#pretty sure it was howl and then spirited away

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.1)

W/C: 3.5k #full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, soz if anything is clunky asdkjf; i can only reread the same fic so many times for editing sadge

A/N: Decided to separate this into parts since I'm dying to post some of it lol I've held it in a chokehold in the shadows of my WIPs for too long, some of it has to come out before I explode o(--( there is more to come!

tag: @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9

The scripture was incomplete, worn away by age.

…herein lays the God...imprisoned...by...Disgraced One…

Yet the society felt this, the coffin uncovered decades ago, could be an invaluable asset. The vessel was decrepit and ancient, yet still stood strong against the test of time and the wear of nature. Seal papers, no doubt left by a monk of sorts, covered the entirety of its surface, hiding away rotting wood and rusted bands of metal from modern sorcerer's curious eyes.

Few knew why the higher ups kept the vessel under lock and key. Fewer knew why they kept it at all; however, those few understood the importance of such a relic. They'd been the ones to seek it out, to steal it away before malicious forces took it for themselves, warping the supposed deity inside for their own, malevolent purpose, whatever that may be.

And with Ryoumen Sukuna's fingers being found one by one, they could not allow anyone to possess humanity's failsafe: you. A great being imprisoned by the devil.

“Anything?” Gojo trilled, patting Yuuji’s shoulders frantically as he stood behind him and beheld the wooden tub covered in sigils. 

“Uh…” Yuuji tried to focus on Sukuna’s presence inside of him. He didn’t seem intrigued or frightened, nor did he seem too bothered with the idea of them trying to smite him down with a sealed god–he was, however, annoyed that Yuuji continued to poke and prod at him. 

Piss off, runt. 

“Yep. Nope. Sukuna doesn't care,” Yuuji sighed. “He's getting all pissy now that I'm bothering him, though.” 

Gojo laughed and patted Yuuji's shoulders a few more times before all but twirling towards the bound box. “Well, that's a pretty good sign that he's not the one that did this, then! In that case,” he started, walking up to the seal papers keeping everything locked down, “let's pop ‘er open.” 

Before Yuuji could even wonder if that was a good idea, the white-haired witch used an overzealous amount of cursed energy and disintegrated every scrap of seal paper. 

Yuuji braced for impact. Surely something terrible like a bankai or a spirit bomb would send them flying once the coffin came undone. Surely they'd pay for this, for unleashing whatever godly spirit laid locked up for far too long, only to release it back into the modern age and–

“Huh. Weird.”

Yuuji cracked open an eye and saw the dull shine of tattered onyx fur, and his control slipped with a blitz of vertigo. 

Markings flared across his skin as he stormed toward the coffin, heart howling with thoughts and memories crashing through a shared mind; a face he didn't know but knew so well bloomed at the forefront of it all, eyes framed in pointed scarlet, skin bathed in ancient, dappled sunlight.

They reached the edge of the coffin and gripped the edges, splintering the wood as they took in the sight; crimson and curse decay pooled around a figure, curled up and half-submerged. Several black, tattered tails spilled free from the tub, no longer crushed from the force of the lid sealing them inside, but they were bent awkwardly and matted with whatever tincture lay at the bottom.

Then there was the so-called god in the middle of it all–you. Still. Quiet. Curled up in a haori far too big for you. Eyes closed. Almost peaceful.

Confusion tore at Sukuna while nausea ripped through Yuuji; he couldn't bear to look at such a morose scene.

So, Sukuna pushed him aside.

[Heian Era]

You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. 

You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails. 

Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful? 

Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him. 

They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him. 

Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing. 

“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces. 

You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud. 

What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–

“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.

“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.

"They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated.

“They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.” 

The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature. 

The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him. 

“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make. 

Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you. 

That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”

It took some time, but you managed to recover. It was an unnerving experience, with the way Uraume tended to you with sincerity. Perhaps it was genuinity born from their devotion to Ryoumen Sukuna, but you greedily soaked it in, filling your stomach with the care they offered you. 

Sukuna didn't bother much with you, not that you really minded; you were much more content to be fed and forgotten than hunted down by the creature that supposedly took ownership of you without enforcing it. If he didn't cause harm or good, if he simply existed somewhere else and forgot you breathed the same air as him, you'd still be at peace. 

But he was more intrigued than you gave him credit for. 

“Ho? So this is where you scamper off to,” Sukuna hummed, leaning over you as you dozed in the nice little spot you'd made for yourself in the garden, right under the crimson cover of a maple tree. You jumped the slightest bit, your daydreams and sunbathing interrupted by the brute’s silhouette eclipsing the sun, but you settled again quickly. The beast of a man wasn't a cause for panic in your little world, after all. 

“Does it displease you?” You inquired, fixing your hair and straightening out your robes. 

Sukuna held onto an overhead branch of the tree as he looked down at you. “Pets are supposed to play in the yard, aren't they?” He smirked as you pursed your lips and flicked your tail before calming it with hasty pets. “What, you don't like being my pet?” 

“I would not refer to myself as a pet,” you countered as the man sat down with you and leaned against the tree. The king's presence calmed you. With him, you knew you were invincible. 

“Pft. Then pray tell what your damn role is around here.” One set of arms folded behind his head while the other set crossed over his chest. “Pets are freeloaders. Pretty sure that's exactly what you are.”

You huffed. “Freeloader. Tch. How rude.” 

“Lookit that. You're copping an attitude now that you're fat and fed. Used to be so much more polite.” 

“Fat and–I am not fat.” You headbutted his side lightly, something that would make more sense had you been in your fox form. You grinding your forehead against him suggested this was more of a human move, however. “I am perfectly normal now. I was brittle and nonexistent prior to now. This is a grand improvement.”

Sukuna scoffed a laugh and looked down at your head pressed up against his side. “Thanks to me,” he boasted. 

“Yes,” you agreed. You held onto his haori and looked up at him, placid and intense. “It is thanks to you. I would not be here if not for your mercy and intervention.” 

Sukuna raised a brow as he regarded you. “Hm. And what will you do to repay me?” 

“My very presence grants you luck, good fortune and fertility.” You tilted your head. “I already repay you by being here.”

Tch. But the gardens and surrounding lands did look more lush and lively since your arrival, he couldn't deny that fact. But he was a king; he could always ask for more and expect to get it. 

“What more?” He prodded.

Your tail flicked as you thought. “What would you ask of me?” 

“Something you haven't given another,” Sukuna replied. Ugh, your flowery, poetry-y, bullshit speak was rubbing off on him. 

You stared at him, gemstone eyes glinting with earthen hues and shards of gold in the yawning afternoon sun. The leaves bristled just perfectly, letting in dapples of citrus sunlight as if trying to make this moment something special, as if to burn your ethereal presence into history for all eternity. All this, just while you thought of what to give him. Perhaps a riddle is what you wanted. Perhaps purple prose suited your fancy. Perhaps it was something else. 

You sat up, carefully raising yourself onto your knees before leaning up towards the hulking king. He turned his face to you in interest, feeling a sort of natural energy begin to pool around the both of you, reaching from the far depths of the earth and the wide stretch of the sky to converge on your existence as you framed his face with gentle hands, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

It lasted only a second. But a second was long enough to catch the scent of petrichor and petals on your skin, to indulge in the heat of wildfires raging in your soul, to feel the blasphemy of you against him; then, you parted. 

“For now,” you murmured, and Sukuna swore he saw your single tail fan out into nine, “I give you my divine favor, Ryoumen Sukuna.”

You wondered if your favor was enough. He'd been gone some time, off to accept a duel from the snotty shitheads Sukuna had received you from. Apparently, having two of the eldest boys murdered rubbed them the wrong way. Sukuna was glad for it, you knew–the man lived and breathed for a fight. 

Of course, you stayed put. Uraume assured you'd be fine on your own, and Sukuna reminded his staff they'd all be eaten alive by the king himself if anything uncouth were to take place in his absence. It was more so that Sukuna didn't like the idea of idiots touching his stuff than it was the notion you were important to him, from your understanding. 

Regardless, the time alone left you restless. That king made you invincible. Without him, you were nothing more than the scared kit locked away in darkness, never to emerge lest your stubbornness trick them. But things were different here. Everyday was filled with unknowns and uncertainties when the two you'd forged fragile bonds with fell absent. 

So, you thought of how to repay Sukuna. Your divine favor would only do so much, after all–you didn't think a man like that really needed the extra luck, but he seemed more than intrigued by the manner of delivering the blessing; you remembered how he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, shielding you from the inferno burning out of control. He grumbled something low in his chest, just loud enough that you heard: 

You better be here when I get back.

“Ah–” The thrill those catastrophic words gave you nearly led to stabbing yourself with the needle. You tutted and regained focus, continuing to carefully embroider the sleeves of one of Sukuna's many plain black haori.

You learned how to sew and embroider from watching an elder from that clan work her magic on old, tattered clothes. She never spoke to you nor regarded you, but she never turned you away the rare times you watched her fix garments; you thought it was beautiful–the art of turning something mundane into something meaningful.

Though you wondered if Ryoumen Sukuna, the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared man alive, had a desire for anything useless and meaningful. 

The answer came quickly. You'd found yourself void of confidence when the monarch returned to his palace after (obviously) winning whatever duel he'd agreed to; you weren't sure if you were to congratulate him, celebrate him or something more. On top of that, he'd eventually find that haori you'd slaved over for days, and you weren't sure you could take the heartbreak of dismissal. 

However, those fears were quashed when, from a new little secret garden hovel, you spied the man donning the very haori you slaved over; it wasn't a flashy piece, you didn't want to subtract from the marvel that was the king of curses, so you opted for using black, shimmery thread to weave intricate twisting trees and blackened blooms along the sleeve. Only if the design caught the light would one be able to notice it. 

But that was enough for you. Knowing he accepted such a meaningless gift was reassuring of your place in his world. 

So, you finally let Uraume convince you to stay in the room they'd prepared for you. 

“No need to be nervous,” you hummed, that undying urge inside you to take care of something helping you soothe the young woman's nerves. You fixed her hair, your deft fingers carefully slipping strands into place before sliding a decorative pin in to hold it all together. You took a step back to appraise her, Sukuna's latest concubine. 

“I–thank you.” Sachiko blushed fiercely and bowed the slightest bit, not risking a deep bow for the fear of her hair falling loose. “I can see why all the girls love you.” 

You laughed, low and warm. “Well, it's hard not to love someone who takes care of you, no?” Gently, you tilted her chin up and leaned in, carefully examining the red lacquer staining her lips. The colour matched her kimono and the gems in that exquisite hairpin keeping dark locks at bay. “But I'm glad. I know it's difficult to find respite in these times.” 

Sachiko held her breath as she looked over the natural paint of crimson adorning your eyes. “I-I, um–yes, I do agree.” 

You hummed and carefully fixed the smallest smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Mh. So I hope you do your best to please him.” 

“I will!” Sachiko promised. “But–I wish to–may I give you something?” 

“Of course.” 

She gathered her kimono up in her hands and leaned up toward you. You leaned down, expecting a secret or hushed words, but perfect red lips pressed against your skin instead. And you were dumbfounded; you'd never been kissed before. You'd never had a lady show that interest in you. 

Sachiko got down from her tiptoes and hid her mouth with her sleeve. “Just for good luck!” She squeaked before bowing and hastily running through the doors where Sukuna would no doubt be waiting for his woman for the evening’s events. 

You looked at the doors sliding closed and caught a glimpse of Sukuna stood before the young woman, his frame swallowing hers as you looked on. And you caught a glimpse of his eyes, his stare of shock and utter vexation–clearly, he'd seen the short woman give you a kiss for good luck. 

You turned away, choosing to abandon the girl to her demise as your fingers ghosted against your lips in wonder. 

He showed up in your chambers later that night. You were still awake, quietly embroidering another haori; this time, it was for Uraume. They insisted they didn't want to burden you, but they crumbled under your more insistent insistence, and accepted the offer on the condition it looked subtle and muted. 

Sukuna padded toward you, hardly bothering to announce himself or ask to join you (ugh, how annoying) before plopping himself onto the futon beside you, sighing as he laid down. 

“I see you finished early,” you commented, jumping the littlest bit when large hands caught your flickering tails. He didn't hurt you, no; he was simply an overgrown toddler with a penchant for examining whatever wiggled before him. 

“That woman kissed you,” Sukuna answered, unhelpful. “Ruined it.” 

“Ah. Well. I didn't expect it either.” You cleared your throat, feeling an unexpected bubble of embarrassment rise in your chest. “I have…I've never been given a kiss before. Not from what I can recall, at the very least.” 

“The hell are you talking about?” Sukuna grouched. “You planted one on me in the gardens.” 

“Giving is not receiving,” you corrected, flicking your tail so as to hit his face. “I've never given a kiss on another's lips, regardless. Though I find myself wondering why I–” 

You yowled when he yanked your tail like he meant to rip the thing off, and you whirled on him, eyes drawn into slits and chunky fangs bared as you dug your nails into his wrist in an effort to make him let go.

Yet the king looked unfazed. He sat up and  tugged you closer by your tail, yank after yank, ripping an impressive collection of vexed noises from you until his broad hand caught you by the throat. You clawed at his wrist and forearm, scrambling to find purchase, idly wondering if he'd finally had enough of you and sought to put you down after dirtying one of his concubines–

But he kissed you instead. His lips were warm and dry, not quite soft yet not unwelcoming. Sukuna knew what he was doing, too; his tongue licked at your bottom lip before pushing inside to finally taste you and taint you from within just a little bit. 

Your grip on him laxed the slightest bit, and you even eased into his hold as he, too, refused to harm you further. If you weren't aware of his malevolent spirit, you might've thought him gentle in that long, simple moment–a special brand of “gentle” that was wholly Sukuna's. Kind, but jagged around the edges. 

He started pulling back, though, and you followed after his touch like a bewitched maiden chasing after the lips of a lover. You nipped at the air like that'd do something for you, but soon settled on leaning into the hand holding you still, even if your throat scratched and ached because of it. 

You found Sukuna's calm stare watching you when you opened your eyes a crack. For once, you thought he looked content; the cruel, mocking lines of his face had smoothed and relaxed, and that annoying, cocky smirk he'd been born sporting had been replaced with a placid, normal lilt. Even the inferno blazing in crimson depths eased into pools of yawning embers–warm and spirited, yet contained. 

The sight relaxed you despite the confusion it brought to your rationale. 

“That,” Sukuna said, so odd and quiet, but powerful and judicial. “Is your first.” His thumb stroked against the side of your neck, pausing to feel the pitter patter of your heart thrumming under his mercy. “It'd serve you to remember that.” 

You nodded shallowly. “Of course.” 

Pleased, he let go of your quite breakable neck and moved like he was about to get up. You grabbed at his hand and pressed his palm to the side of your face like he was cupping your cheek. Your insistence on touching gave the beast pause, but he settled again, content to let you keep him hostage for as long as you wanted.

And you indulged in the simple favour. You nuzzled into his palm with a very fox-like chitter as a bassy, quiet trill of a purr lazily rolled through your chest, eventually reaching Sukuna himself. It somehow had him feeling content. Relaxed. Like he was basking in the warmth of the sun. 

“I request another,” you chirped, and Sukuna quirked a brow. 

“Another?” 

“Kiss.” 

Sukuna twitched a smirk. “It'll cost ya.” 

“Oh?” 

“Give me another blessing.”

And you agreed.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[ghost-bxrd]

So with Fae!Dick, we all know that Bruce is just… not gonna say anything bc of his own mental health, but do you think the other batkids notice anything once they come along?

On one hand, I think someone would have to notice. If not Jason, then Tim, Steph, Barbara, or Damian bc, well, they’re BATS. They literally have been trained to notice things.

On the other hand, though, I think it would be HILARIOUS if they just attributed Dick’s Fae nature to him just being weird. Like, completely unaware he isn’t human. Maybe not entirely realistic but I think it leaves for some interesting comedic moments 😅

Honestly at one point I think it all devolves into plausible deniability. 😭😂

Jason is the first to notice something amiss, obviously. But he joins Bruce in pretending it‘s just Dick‘s general weirdness. After all, as long as the dog just howls once in a while it’s not necessarily a wolf, right? And Dick, after the initial hang up and trying to kill him a little, is sweet as a summer‘s day to him and viciously protective to boot. Galas and all the rich people there that used to treat Jason like a circus animal aren’t a problem anymore because Dick always swoops in like a bat out of hell and distracts the creepy old ladies with a charming smile until they walk away with vacant eyes. It‘s all pretty funny. And very weird. But hey, Jason gets a laugh out of it and that secretive little grin from Dick so whatever.

Tim I headcanon has Dick all figured out within a month of officially meeting him (the opposite of this would be Tim never figuring it out which is also kinda funny and just attributing it to his circus past or something) and is veeery cautious about interacting with Dick for a time. It makes Dick kind of sad and Tim can only withstand the puppy eyes so long until he caves.

Steph just kinda shrugs and accepts Dick‘s strangeness at face value. It ain’t hurting her so why should she bother? Dick is cool. She likes Dick. End of story, thank you and good day. And yeah, fine, some of his habits are downright weird and everything but who is she to judge? And he‘s always down to cause mischief with her which is?? Super cool???? Even the more devious pranks she can bribe him into joining by handing him a jar of fresh honey or hand picked fruit!! Anybody trying to say shit about Dick lands them on her hit list, period.

Cass is Cass. Nobody can fool her. She may not know what Dick is, but she‘s painfully aware he‘s other. Most wildlife treats him like bees would their queen, there‘s always the scent of pines and rain following him. Dick‘s body language says ‘playful-content-happy’ but his eyes say ‘dark-dangerous-predator’. It’s all very conflicting; a study of contradictions. Cass learns to go by what his body language says and quickly finds a kindred spirit in Dick, who somehow always seems to know exactly what she tries to express but has trouble translating into words.

I headcanon Damian grew up with folklore so while his first theory may not be “fae” he definitely has Dick down as something other than human. Which means he must be powerful. Which means Damian must keep himself in Dick’s good graces in the hopes of making the creature teach him how to be powerful in turn. And, well, the kid grew up with a grandad that regularly takes dips in a magical swimming pool. I don’t think there’s much that can genuinely shock him lol.

Duke is… well, he’s the sensible one so of course he’s the first one to actually ask questions. And then proceeds to go nearly insane because??? Nobody seems to?? Care???? That Dick just rotated his head a full 360°???? Or that the manor sure af isn’t supposed to??? Randomly add hallways???? Or that there’s a whole ass SWAMP that appeared in the basement overnight???? Or a door that leads straight into the forest?????? Duke very nearly nopes the hell out because that’s too much even for him. But finally, finally someone takes pity on him (I headcanon it’s Cass) and she doesn’t explain anything per se, she just kind of… shows Duke. Shows him around the manor, introduces him to twisting halls and strange rooms, takes him to where Dick is lounging with the rest of the family, purring like a content cat. And Duke still doesn’t understand, not completely, but Dick smiles at him with too many, too sharp teeth and tugs him into the huge cuddle pile and?? Are those feathers on his neck?? No, he must have imagined it. Anyway, Duke thinks he can handle this… strangeness, if it scores him a family like this. It’s Gotham, right? Weirder things happen here on the daily.

Omg this turned into a whole ass essay I’m so sorry 😰😅😭✨

#ghost talks #fae dick grayson #faerie folk #the other things #pagan folklore #the things from the woods #the ones that grin from darkness #the birds with no feathers #the things that call between the trees #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #robin #batfam #bruce wayne #tim drake #red hood #duke thomas #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #Damian wayne #Damian al ghul

[st-kitten]

707 pt.3

← previous chapter christmas special

A/N: um... i've got two small special effects for this part, sooooo see if u can use them at the right moment :")

WARNINGS: trauma, implied death by accident, a good cry honestly, violence (intended IM A GIRLS GIRL BUT SOME THINGS ARE OKA-), that shlong, sloppenheimer (kidding: oral sex, both receiving), age gap (newsflash 😒) (reader is obv 20+ and toji is idk 38?)

"can we call y/n? for cake?" asked megumi.

"i'm not sure she wants to see anybody today, kid," replied a distressed toji

"but it's my birthday..."

toji couldn't resist megumi's puppy eyes. but he figured that if there was anyone you'd listen to, it would be him. it was worth a try.

both of them stepped out of their apartment, hearing music coming from your apartment. toji felt his breath returning to his lungs. music meant you were okay. or at least alive. your singing got clearer as the two of them stood outside your door. he tried knocking but it was left unanswered. toji wondered whether it was just a recording playing, so he pressed his ear on the door. no, that's definitely her. open the fucking door, y/n!

all toji had as a sign that you were inside were was you were singing.

[mention: easy on me, by adele, again for the lyrics ft.]

"i know there is hope in these waters..." is she crying?

"but I can't bring myself to swim, when i am drowning in this silence..." your voice croaked in the end. she's definitely crying. what the fuck did i do...

toji looked around the lobby. seeing it empty, he grabbed your doorknob and pressed hard on it, tearing it apart, breaking it. he gave it to megumi. he barged inside your barely lit, dark living room, only to find you sitting on the floor, head against the sofa, looking at the ceiling. broken glasses and torn papers surrounded you as you sang at the top of your lungs, voice overcome with some kind of pain that toji couldn't understand, but just feel.

"you can't deny how hard I've tried i changed who I was to put you both first but now I give up..."

"i was still a child..."

"so go eas-" hearing the door blast open, you stopped, whipping your head in its direction.

you were about to bark at toji when you saw the look on his face. fear... then you saw megumi, holding your doorknob, standing behind his father.

toji saw your grief-stricken face. the haunting melody of whatever heart-wrenching song you were singing still echoed in his ears, reaching out from the walls like a desperate cry for help. your disheveled hair clung to your face, a stark contrast to the carefree spirit that used to reside next door.

"w-what are you d-"

"what happened?"

toji treaded carefully around the broken glass, telling megumi to wait where he stood. he knelt down beside you, pushing away the small shards.

you sat there, too horrified to say anything. why is he here? a small shaky breath left your mouth, the rest bubbling up like lava, ready to erupt.

"i don't know what i did baby, but i'm sorr-" toji's apology went unheard as tears streamed down your face and a cry tore through the air like a wounded animal's howl. it was guttural, unrestrained, and laced with a pain so visceral that toji felt it in his bones. the sound wasn't pretty; it was raw and unfiltered, like the ugly side of life laid bare for anyone in earshot.

without a second thought, toji enveloped you in a tight embrace, pulling your trembling shoulders into him. he sat on the floor next to you, one leg folded down and the other tucked to his chest. he felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine as you sobbed into him.

"it's okay..." was all he could say. even he knew that it wasn't about fixing everything; it was about being there in whatever storm was raining down on you. he looked at megumi, unsure about how his son would take seeing you break down. the child stood a silent witness to all of it, his eyes glistening slightly.

"why is it okay?" you muttered. "for parents to be your first bullies..."

"what... stopped them," you sniffled, "from just listening to me?"

toji held onto every word that came out of your mouth. a part of him was relieved that this wasn't about him.

"i didn't want a fucking cake... i didn't want a cake, i just wanted them..." your breath hitched.

"you spend half of your life raising a child in the cruelest way... your last words to each other end up being an argument and... your last words to me were nothing..."

toji felt a knot in his stomach. he watched megumi leave and go back to their apartment. he was torn between his kid, disturbed on the eve of his birthday and the woman he was cradling, on her birthday...

as the echoes of your cry faded, they left behind a heavy, oppressive silence. only your shaky breath could be heard. he sat beside you, his eyes searching for the right words as you wiped away the tears that had traced down your cheeks.

"birthdays are supposed to be happy, ya know..." he whispered to you, as gently as he could. as if the wrong words would shatter you.

"they're also supposed to be spent with family apparently..." you said, gritting your teeth. toji didn't know what to say... he wanted so desperately to talk to her. but how do you even say something at a time like that?

megumi's small steps echoed in your living room. both of you looked at him. you felt like bawling your eyes out and toji simply smiled at his son.

megumi carried a small plate with a loaf of bread sitting atop, two tiny candles buried in it, their flames flickering in the dark room. he stood in front of you, holding out the plate to you with his tiny hands.

you held the plate, placing your hands on his. you glanced at the clock, which was seconds away from midnight. you blew one candle, covering the other with your palm. and when the clock struck 12, megumi blew the other candle out.

"happy birthday, gumi," you put the plate down and hugged him. he wrapped his tiny hands around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "happy birthday, y/n," he said softly.

hours passed by as you talked to toji about your unforeseen disappearance. megumi had fallen asleep in your lap and you stroked his head. you told him about your 13th birthday, your parents death in a car crash... you left some things off the conversation. oh, how toji felt each word you said. he knew how ruthless families could be. his own was never kind to him. he told you about his scar in return, and how he felt insecure about it.

"it's kinda hot, if you ask me." seemed like you were back to being your normal self.

toji smirked. "i know. you wouldn't stop kissing it last night."

you smacked his chest with the back of your hand. but it brought you two to that conversation. toji wanted it off his chest.

"i like ya."

you looked at him, taking a shallow breath.

"not just 'cause we made out yesterday. i'm the worst person to talk about feelings and shit to, but... i got 'em. for you." toji was done with it. he didn't want to stretch it any further. not after the day you'd had.

you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off, "sit with it for a while. ya don't need to answer me right now."

toji picked megumi up from your lap, carrying him in his arms. he pressed a soft, patient kiss to your lips. "belated happy birthday," he said against your lips, got up and left, leaving a large hole in your door.

[ambient song y/n might vibe to: jeene mein aaye maza, by ankur tiwari]

you wandered aimlessly in the convenience store, picking up things and putting them back where they didn't belong. you circled the whole store thrice until the cashier asked you if something was wrong. paying for cheap beer and rice crackers you didn't even want, you left the store.

you walked home in the evening, head in the clouds. (a cloud shaped like toji)

he liked you. his words hammered in your mind like construction workers at the crack of dawn. girls usually felt giddy after hearing a boy confess to them. the fuck were you feeling? and why was it some kind of diarrhoea? you mind went back to how you'd kissed and how good it felt. there was no doubt that you found him attractive. you liked spending time with him. but did you like him? what even would you do if you did? date him? be his girlfriend? mother to his child? how did one go about dating an older man? if anything, he'd end up with another child.

you walked by a park, watching children playing (mostly falling), building sandcastles in the pit (and falling on them), running around chasing nothing (and falling), scurrying into their parents' arms (guess what).

did you want to be that to megumi? because being with toji meant being with megumi and being responsible for him.

you sat down on the pavement, sipping on beer that tasted like toothpaste, pondering over what kind of life you'd build for yourself. you were not interested in hook up culture. committed relationships were made to sound like life imprisonment sentences. the titles didn't apply to you and especially him. what would being with toji even look like? once your little quinn project comes to an end, what then? would he grab the cash and bolt? would he stay? would he stay anyway?

the more you sat and thought about it, the more things blurred. you thought it best not to overthink it. he did tell you to not rush an answer. but you were not the most patient of all people. the one thing you disliked was how things get awkward every time someone confesses their feelings out of the blue and the other has to be the dealbreaker.

you decided to do the rest of the thinking at home. the city was twinkling with christmas lights and decorations. it was always a wonderful sight to see. it made you want to travel to a quaint countryside only to realise your long lost love for the holiday season and family values as you broke into song about reuniting with your childh-yes, that hallmark movie.

when you entered through the gate to your building, you spotted megumi near the postboxes. a very uncomfortable megumi... in the arms of a woman you'd never seen. she looked rich. fur coat, pradas, sunglasses that covered her whole face like a covid shield. megumi so didn't want to be held like that. your gaze fell on toji, who... drumroll... had the exact same expression as his kid. as you walked in that direction you could hear the conversation.

"he likes me, don't you think?" PLEASE that's what rich people sound like?

"just put him down," toji sighed.

"no, i'm gonna steal him!!!" she giggled, shoving her face into megumi. he flinched and pushed himself away from her.

"aww, he's so playful... toji, why don't you invite me over for a drink?"

megumi wiggled like a worm in her arms, trying to escape her grip. he twisted like a pretzel until she had to put him down. but she held onto his hand tightly. that didn't go unnoticed by toji who was growing angrier every passing minute.

"come on... it'll be fun," she sneered.

"i gotta look after my kid." that was all he said.

"i'm sure he won't mind... right meggy? you'll let daddy and i play for a while, right?" megumi tried to pry her hands off, but she tugged at him harshly.

suddenly, all the diarrhoea made sense. the blur cleared. your eyes narrowed as you observed the audacious scene unfolding before you. something in your head snapped and you took purposeful steps towards her, and offensive gaze locked, devoid of any remorse.

swatting her hand off of megumi's, you put the kid behind you protectively. in a millisecond, your hand swung with conscious thought, as you smashed the beer bottle on her head. the glass shattered on her scalp, cutting through the background noise like a warning shot.

"not. your. kid."

caught between shock and appreciation for your sudden defence, toji covered his curled mouth with his palm. he looked at megumi, who stood behind you, holding the ends of your jacket. the kid looked back at his father, smirking mischievously. toji turned his cackling laughter into an asthmatic cough.

the woman couldn't take a hint even when it hit her in the skull.

"who do you think you are?"

"how dare you hit me? do you know who i am?"

"i'm talking to you!!! hello!!!??"

you let her run her mouth. you weren't interested in what she had to say. you looked down at megumi. you could see the faint red strip that circled his wrist. you knew how manipulative it was to use toji's kid as a means to get to him. you already befell his threat. but you understood it all of a sudden.

the honest urge to protect your kid.

the woman eventually stomped and left, mouthing cuss words at passersby.

"so... care to explain what that was?" asked toji, folding his hands, looking at you with fascination.

"my answer," you said with a smile as you held megumi's little hand, rubbing the back of it with your thumb.

toji smirked proudly.

"what happened here?" asked the building watchman, who heard about the act of violence from others who witnessed it.

"nothing interesting,"

"they're saying you harassed a woman," he was quick to throw an accusing glance at toji.

"nonsense! just some personal drama," you interrupted. "that's the father, this is his son."

"and that's the unholy spirit..." toji mumbled to the guard, earning a death glare from you.

the three of you walked towards the elevator. you handed megumi the rice crackers you bought and he wasted no time in digging in. toji put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as he whispered in your ear, "what does a fella like me have to do to see you smash another bottle again?"

"flirt with another woman and i'll gladly smash one on your head."

toji's deep chuckle vibrated in your ear.

megumi dragged you inside their house to show you his new sketches. he'd really outdone himself. he'd also made his father hang all the small drawings on the christmas tree they had in their living room. toji was glad that he'd found something to occupy himself with. not that he didn't want to spend time with the kid, but seeing him not get overly attached to a single parent relieved the giant weight on his shoulders.

"mmm! gumi, i have a gift for you."

megumi trotted to you like a puppy, eyes twinkling like stars.

"you're gonna spoil him."

"correct."

you gave him a cd. "i wrote you a song." megumi clutched the cd like a prized trophy. he opened the case and showed his father the cd. you'd chased down your producer's sales guy to put one of megumi's sketches as the cd cover.

"when did you even have time to do this?"

"last night. and today morning."

"you didn't sleep?"

you looked away from him, perfectly expecting a fatherly scolding. instead, toji just chortled. he left megumi to listen to your song on a loop as the two of you went to your apartment. (sorry megs, but this is a toji x y/n)

you closed the door, swearing that the hole where your doorknob used to be was getting bigger by each minute. not a moment later, toji had his arms wrapped around you, his mouth on yours. you dropped the grocery bags on the floor and threw your hands around his neck. bumping into nearly every piece of furniture along the way, you sauntered into your room, lips glued to each other. he kissed you like it was the last thing he could do in the world and you kissed him like it was the first thing you wanted to do before anything else.

"mmm... hold on," toji pulled away momentarily and said, "promise me one thing."

"what?"

"you don't disappear when shit hits the fan. you come talk to me."

you felt guilt churn inside you, recalling how you'd left toji and megumi to wonder what 'they' had done wrong to make you go distant.

you nodded. "i promise."

toji held you in his arms for a while, taking a look at your face. he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you winced.

"ow! careful, i just got my ear pierced."

toji raised his eyebrows. he pushed your hair aside and saw a helix piercing, the edge of your ear pink and slightly swollen.

"that looks like it hurt."

"oh, it did."

"then why'd ya get it?"

"i always get piercings on my birthday."

"why?" toji honestly didn't understand this form of self-harm.

"what can i say, buddy, i love getting stabbed..." you said plainly, backing away and took your shoes off.

toji snorted a laugh at your comment. "masochist."

"aww, big man uses big words now..." you said, keeping your shoes under your bed. toji simply slapped your ass.

"sadist."

"by the way, i added some background noises to our recording. it sounds so good!"

"oh? let's hear it then," said toji, sitting down on your bed. he was glad to see you be your usual confident self. last night had him tensed with worry. even though he wasn't the source of your pain, he couldn't imagine how lonely you must've felt spending your birthday crying as life wickedly toasted to your parent's death, scarring the one day you were supposed to own with pride.

you made him listen to some excerpts, but ended up talking over them anyway, excitedly telling him how smartly you had edited some things. he just watched you with a small smile. whenever you turned to face him, his eyes fell on your piercing. he counted how many you had. nine. marking nine years of an anniversary nobody would want to remember like this. four piercings on each ear and one in your nose. did you really need the pain to validate your broken heart? did it make you feel like you deserved it?

he dismissed those thoughts from his head. it was your decision. and you bore it like an ornament, and not a scar. plus, he now that he fully took your face in, he couldn't deny hot incredibly hot those piercings looked on you. the thought of you sitting through that and showing off your piercings made his stomach flip. seriously, how much more hot could you get?

as if to answer his question, your recording played in his ear, some scene at a party with your characters failing to keep their hands to themselves. his voice blended with yours like the perfect duet. the way you spoke, changing your tone, pitch, hell, even your little laugh to suit your character made him feral. he wanted to hear you more. but not for some recording. he wanted to hear you for himself.

the moment the recording ended, toji pounced on you, grabbing your neck, careful not to hurt your ear as he kissed you roughly. you gasped, but melted on the spot. you liked where this was going anyway. toji moved his lips along yours, nibbling at you mouth. he let you catch a breath, before shoving his tongue inside, only for it to hitch again.

he pushed you into your bed, immediately hovering over you. he let his hands run up and down your legs. you hummed under his touch. he felt you shuffle underneath. he pulled away for a moment to watch you sneak your phone out of the pocket, finger pressed on a red dot.

"you wanna give your fans a show, baby?" he murmured.

"nuh uh, this is for me," you panted.

toji smirked. "gotta make this good then..." he peppered kiss on your neck, sucking on your skin. he could smell that god awful coconut perfume. to ease the weight his humongous body dumped on you, he shoved his knee between your legs, hoisting himself over you properly. you practically moaned in his mouth at the feeling of his knee rubbing against you. you had no idea what to do with your hands, so you just let them stay on your stomach lifelessly.

toji broke the kiss once more, chuckling at the whine that escaped from your mouth.

"so needy..." he growled, taking his shirt off with one hand. your jaw hung open as you took him in. the way he towered you even when sitting on his knees made him seem almost... monstrous.

toji only it thought it fair to get rid of your clothes too. he held your waist and pulled you to him, hoisting you on his lap. he took your jacket off, throwing it on the floor.

"be careful with the shirt. it's vivienne westwood."

"strip then."

slowly, taking the sweet time of your life, you pulled the shirt off, turning it right side up and neatly folded it, placing it at the far end of your bed.

"you done, sweetie?" he cooed in your ear.

"done."

"lovely. put your hands to use." he had you folded under him, back on the bed, kisses getting rougher, wetter, messier. you clawed at his shoulder, back, neck, chest, every part of him that you could touch. he licked a particular spot just under your ear that made you mewl in pleasure. like a vampire, toji bit your neck, causing you to moan softly.

his free hand unclasped your bra and tossed it away.

"would it kill you to not throw my clothes here and there?"

"thought you liked it violent, baby..." he murmured in your ear, biting a hickey on your neck. he kept switching between kissing your lips and sucking at your neck while he played with your tits, squeezing them, pinching them, kneading them like dough. he was right. they did fit in his hands perfectly. he latched his mouth onto one, making you squirm under him.

toji was absorbing your body. he felt bold; bold to take what he wanted from you. well, what he wanted was you. your body, your hips, your mouth, all of it. he wanted to show you just how desirable you were to him.

the hand that roamed your waist slowly trailed down your cargo pants. you didn't even realise when he took them off, but it was good anyway. less is more.

at an agonisingly slow pace, the tips of his fingers teased you over your panties. toji took a look at you, covered in his marks, lips pink and swollen.

he chuckled, "just how many of these stupid panties do you have?"

"I FUCKING KNEW IT. PANTY THIEF!" you smacked his abs.

"they're mine now," toji murmured as back away, spreading your legs apart with his hands, grabbing at your thighs. he kissed your inner thigh languorously making his way down to your wet cunt. he took your panties off, once more putting them back in his pockets. he dipped two of is fingers inside slowly, as if he was learning about your body. he watched your every reaction, every quiver, every hitched breath as he took his time and prepped you for himself. he curled his fingers at an optimal spot and like a cat on heat, you mewled and your legs shut tight around his hand.

"uh uh uh, i need these legs wide open, darling." he knew how much you liked it when he said that. when you didn't spread them, he smacked a hard slap on your hip, causing you to gasp and giggle as you did as directed.

"don't be a brat."

"or what?"

toji didn't retort. instead, he dove straight into your cunt, painting your insides with long strokes with his tongue. he paired it with his forefinger running up and down, inside and out, pushing against your clit. hearing you whimper and pant just made him want to tease you. recording all those dirty audios with you had him gain a mind in the game. like an illusionist, his hands disappeared and he pulled away, making you pine for him.

"toji fushiguro, i will smash a bottle on your head if you ever take your mouth off me like that again..." god, you sounded so sexy.

"ya know... it makes my dick hard when you talk to me like that."

you crunched forward and grabbed his hair, pulling him back to your pussy. toji chuckled, resuming eating you out like a man starved for days.

"oh i bet it does," you said breathlessly, throwing a few more slurred taunts his way. toji extended his free hand and shoved two of his fingers in your mouth.

"put that mouth to use, brat." he groaned in pleasure feeling your tongue swirl around his fingers, sucking them, gently biting them whenever he lapped at your cunt the right away. even with his fingers stuffed in your mouth, he could hear your muffled moans loudly. he sped his pace, slipping his fingers in and out of you, lapping at your core. he felt you clench and he took it as an open invitation to increase the pressure. you let out a long, stretched moan as you gushed all over his chin.

"is this what you ladies call girl dinner?" toji took his fingers out of you, licking them and tasting you, smacking his lips.

you laughed, throwing your head back.

"ugh, shut up."

"make me," you commented, practically waltzing into the man's next plan for you. toji's hand wrapped around your throat as he pulled you up as if you weight nothing. he got off the bed, standing in front of you as you were on all fours.

"gladly," toji slid his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard-as-a-rock girth.

"this isn't fair, toji," you cried at the size of it.

"i know, baby..." he gripped your chin with his fingers, nearly crushing your jaw. you looked up at him and seeing you on your knees for him lit a fire within him.

playfully you licked his wet lip like a kitten...

"cute. but that's not gonna cut it, sweetheart."

"i'll have you know i won the popsicle eating contest in my college..."

toji chuckled, holding his cock out to your face and smacked it against your lips. "gonna keep me waitin'?"

you took his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, letting the tip run between the faint slit. you bobbed your head a few times, adjusting to his length and width. you'd be grateful to have a jaw left by the time you've sucked him dry. you took his length in your, stroking what you couldn't. you felt his cock twitch and pulsate in your mouth.

"god, you're doing so well..." toji reached forward, accidentally thrusting more of his dick in your mouth, making you whimper. he picked up your phone, which had been recording every lewd sound you made and he held it by his hip. "you sound so... fucking perfect, baby... gagging over my dick like that."

he pushed your hair aside, gripping it tightly as he pushed your head further in, moaning at how good it felt to have you take damn nearly all of him.

"fuck... shit.... s' good" toji let a buffet of grunts and moans spill out of his mouth. first, because he you took him that well, and second because he wanted you to get off to his voice, just like he did to yours. he began thrusting into your mouth faster, feeling his release creeping its way up. had he known how easy it was for him to come just by getting a quick blowjob, he'd have put more work into the foreplay. but fuck, he loved every damn moment of it. how your mouth was wet and warm, how your pointed tongue knew just where to lick, how your cheeks hollowed to pull him in.

"keep going, baby... i'm almost there," he panted, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, hips moving at a brutal pace. his mind went to you eating a popsicle for some reason and he laughed, paving the way for a guttural moan that rumbled through his mouth as he came into your mouth. you closed your eyes, letting the uncomfortable feeling pass away as you managed to swallow the barrel full of cum he just shot into your mouth.

toji pulled out, feeling euphoric. he was completely obsessed with you. he wanted to take your right there. he wanted to be inside you. fuck, he wanted to see how loud you could get for him.

a knock on your main door and a small voice calling out to toji snapped you back to your senses.

"what a cockblock," toji sighed.

you threw a pillow at him. "that's your adorable birthday boy you're talking about!"

toji changed back into his clothes, refusing to give you your panties back, earning another pillow to his face. he looked at you to make sure you still didn't have second thoughts about him. but there you were, effortlessly moving around the room, picking up the pieces of clothing he'd tossed here and there. he loved how much fun you had doing all these things with him. it made the experience twice as much worth it.

you changed into your pyjamas and led toji out of your bedroom.

"does it say 'juicy' on your ass?" he said, reading the glittery text on your pants.

"ya bet it does," you smacked your own ass, proud of your sense of fashion, no matter how ridiculous it was.

"gonna fuck that ass someday."

"fix my door first." you peeked through the hole in your door, looking at the top of megumi's hair.

you opened the door to see megumi standing in his pyjamas, holding his demon dog, yawning.

"awww, sorry for keeping your dad for so long."

megumi yawned again, nodding.

"she sang a song for me too, you know..." said toji, picking up his sleepy kid, giving you a wink. you kicked his ass, making him stagger out of your house.

"good night."

"good night..." you smiled at the two.

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ��✩‧₊

TAGLIST: @kaininety2 @ruixrei @chicken-fifi @mrsfush1guro @szillx @queendessi24 @sillysillygoofygoose @shadowmoonlight0604

#forgive me father for i have sinned #toji fushiguro #dad toji #toji #fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x y/n #megumi #juicy pants

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi Mint!

I love your game recs so much! Do you know any wilderness survival ttrpgs with a lot of crunch? The genre could be anything including horror, fantasy, etc, mainly I’m just looking for a game with plenty of rules/systems for things like foraging and building shelters. Ideally I’d like something with a solo option, but I’m also good with group games :)

Thank you so much!!!

THEME: Wilderness Survival

Hello there! Thank you very much for your kind words. I don’t have a lot of recommendations for you today, but I hope the few I do have are useful for you!

Cast Away, by Monomyth Games.

A shipwreck survival horror game that will crash you against the rocks of mysterious unknown shores and leave you asking—why me?

Castaways are unfortunate lost souls stranded on a far off island… but they aren't the only ones who now call the island home. With rules for exposure, building shelters, crafting, hunting, gathering, debilitating ailments, escape plans, an island weather system, a menagerie of wildlife and monsters, and mysterious island encounters, players will have to fight tooth and nail exploring the harsh island environment to survive against the odds.

MÖRK BORG has really made a name for itself over the past few years as a game with astounding layout and easy-to-learn rules. Cast Away, being built on MÖRK BORG, looks to have plenty of rules built onto the original framework, so I think it might be a bit crunchier than the original game. The setting is also pretty brutal, in tune with the themes of the game it hails from. The game also has a supplement for solo play, called Stranded, in case you want to take the game for a spin by yourself.

Against the Wind, by Cezar Capacle.

In the lands where the wind howls like a beast untamed, you forge your path. They say the gales here shape not just the land, but the very spirit of those who walk it. You are one of those souls, a wanderer amidst the churning skies and the earth that bites with frost.

Against the Wind is a solo/coop fantasy-adventure sandbox game in a land ravaged by fierce winds and biting cold, all infused with a subtle pinch of fairy tale ambiance. In this world, players step into the roles of magical nomad heroes, confronting the relentless climate, traversing diverse landscapes, and following their own unique paths.

The game blends traditional and modern styles of play, merging the classic elements of fantasy adventure — like wilderness exploration and dungeon delving — with contemporary, narrative-driven mechanics.

A character in Against the Wind has plenty of descriptive pieces that tell us about how they look, but they also have pieces that appear to matter mechanically, such as their background, role, gift, skill, and weapon. As a GM-less and solo-friendly game, much of the world appears to be procedurally generated through rolling on tables, so it looks to be pretty dense when it comes to player involvement. With all of these pieces, I’m not sure how much of this game can be labelled “crunch”, but if you’re surviving I imagine you’ll have to deal with things like the surrounding environment, inventory, and dungeon navigation, which feel pretty “crunchy” to me.

Stranded, by Rúnica Games.

The best navigators in history have searched for a northern passage to join the Atlantic and the Pacific. Many of them never returned home. You should have been the last in this line of pioneers, with a discovery that would have brought light to these uncivilized lands. But things went wrong.

A few weeks ago, the fury of the elements left you stranded between sheets of ice. Summer has been very short this year, and it is clear that you do not have enough time to free the ship and repair it to return home.

You must go through the harshest fall and winter of your lives, waiting for warmer days. But neither the ship nor you are prepared to spend months isolated in the most remote part of the world. You have neither the food nor the proper equipment. You only have yourself. Will this be enough?

This game is still in playtest, but it’s a pretty sizeable playtest! Unlike the other games on this list, it’s situated in a very specific time and place, that of an arctic voyage in the Northern Passage. It looks like character creation occurs as you play, so you’ll have a lot of pieces on your character sheet, but you don’t figure them out all at once. I think this kind of character building might be helpful for long-term play, as you can achieve mastery over a long period of time without feeling overwhelmed by new rules or tracks.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Cast Away, by Afterthought Committee.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #asks #survival

[taey0ngsvape]

everything has changed - taeyong

“you’ll be mine and i’ll be yours”

pairing: taeyongxreader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

contains: reader uses she/her pronouns, best friend mark, pining taeyong, getting together, reader’s love language is physical touch, kissing, tooth rotting fluff

summary: taeyong has admired you for as long as he can remember, but as his feelings for you change, he knows that he can’t keep them hidden anymore.

Taeyong watches your head fall back as you laugh at something Mark just said. A small smile plays onto his lips as your shoulders shake from the force of your laughter.

He loves your laugh. He loves everything about you actually, but your laugh was the first thing he really noticed after he first met you. Mark had been the one to introduce the two of you and from that first day, Taeyong thought you were beautiful and funny and kind, and his feelings for you had only intensified since then as he got to know you better. 

He likes spending time with you and Mark, because Mark was your best friend and he knew how to make you laugh. Sure, Taeyong wishes he could be the one making you laugh, but as long as he gets to see the joyful expression on your face, he doesn’t really mind. 

You turn to him, a wide smile on your face and his breath hitches. You look absolutely radiant and the way you’re looking at him is full of such fondness that it makes his stomach flip. “What do you think Tae?” you ask.

“About what?” he asks, because he hasn’t actually been paying attention to the conversation for at least five minutes now.

You playfully roll your eyes. “Are you even listening?”

“Yes!” Taeyong says defensively.

“Well, we were talking about whether Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle is better than Chihiro from Spirited Away. I think we’ve come to the conclusion that Sophie is considerably less annoying.”

“Chihiro was only a kid,” Taeyong points out. “Sophie had like… life experience.”

“But if you had to choose,” you say.

Taeyong shrugs. “I pick both.”

“See! I told you,” Mark says and immediately you turn back to him, continuing the conversation (that was really more of an argument). It was lighthearted and full of laughter and Taeyong is more than content to watch two people he loves enjoy each other’s company. 

Eventually, Mark has to leave, so Taeyong walks you back to your apartment. You loop your arm through his, something he’s become used to over the months you’ve known each other. You tend to be touchy with others, especially your friends. Every time you walk together, you’re always holding onto him in some way, whether it be resting your hand on his arm or intertwining your fingers. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, looking up at Taeyong, who has been deep in thought ever since you started the walk.

“Of course,” he says, like it’s a reflex. And it is true for the most part, except for the fact that he’s helplessly in love with you and has been for a while now, which is something he can never tell you. He can’t lose you, because as much as he’s attracted to you, you’re his friend first and he can’t imagine his life without you. 

“You just seemed a little… out of it, I guess,” you say. “You’re thinking about something. What is it?”

Taeyong doesn’t meet your eyes, afraid that if he does he’ll spill everything. “It’s nothing,” he says. 

You sigh softly. “You know you can talk to me right? I’m your friend.”

And that’s the problem, he thinks to himself. You’re his friend and that’s it.

“I want to help. Just let me into that pretty head of yours,” you say and his cheeks flush at the word ‘pretty.’

“It’s nothing,” he says gently. “Don’t worry about me.” 

He slings an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to him. You lean into his touch and he can’t help but feel like this is right. This is how it’s supposed to be.

But it’s not.

And that’s the problem.

He resists telling Mark until the last possible moment. He’s perfectly fine with keeping his feelings to himself, but eventually he can’t bottle them up anymore. He needs someone to talk to and there’s no one better than Mark, who’s not only his friend, but yours as well. If anyone is going to understand why Taeyong loves you so much, it’s Mark.

“Is everything alright?” is the first thing Mark asks him when they meet up to talk. All Taeyong had told him ahead of time was that he needed someone to talk to and that he trusted Mark the most.

“It’s nothing bad,” Taeyong assures quickly. “But I need you to promise that you’re going to keep this to yourself. This is something really personal and I don’t want anyone else knowing about it.”

“Of course dude,” Mark says. “This is your business, no one else’s.”

Taeyong smiles. “Thank you.”

Mark waits patiently as Taeyong gathers his thoughts, figuring out what he’s going to say, but in the end it proves to be completely futile because he just ends up blurting out, “I’m in love with (y/n).”

Mark looks a little surprised at first, so Taeyong keeps talking. “I have been for a while now. She’s just… I mean you know her better than anyone. You know that she’s kind and sweet. You know that she makes people laugh and can brighten anyone’s day. You already know that she’s loveable. And falling in love with her was easy. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Mark says, and he offers Taeyong a smile. “And for the record, this makes me really happy. I love you and I love (y/n) and I’m glad you love her too.”

Taeyong mirrors Mark’s smile and looks down at his lap.

“You know,” Mark laughs, “Before I introduced you, I was afraid you weren’t going to get along. And I love both of you so much and I was so scared that you weren’t going to like each other. So personally, this is like… the best possible outcome.”

“Aside from the fact that she only sees me as a friend,” Taeyong points out. 

“Have you told her how you feel?” Mark asks. Taeyong shakes his head. “Then how do you know that?”

Taeyong gives him a look that says, come on man, be serious. “She asked me what was going on the other day and told me I could tell her anything because we’re friends. She only sees me as a friend.”

Mark looks at him sympathetically. “I think you should tell her man. There’s no real way to know unless you do.”

Taeyong shakes his head. He can’t.

Unfortunately for him, things don’t go as planned. As he falls harder, deeper, he quickly realizes that he can’t keep living like this. He can’t keep watching you laugh while not being able to pull you into his arms. He can’t keep looking at you as you smile at him while not being able to close the space between you and feel your lips against his own.

Which is new. Sure, the thought of kissing you had crossed his mind a few times, but recently it’s become all he can think about. You own what seems like 30 different chapsticks, all of them flavored differently and he wants to taste every one. He wants to cup your face in his hands and bring your lips to his, kissing you until he’s out of breath. Recently, it’s the only thing he wants.

So he tells Mark.

“You should talk to her soon,” he says. “You know she’s going home for a month in like... two weeks. I don’t mean to pressure you, but the clock is ticking.”

Which is how Taeyong ends up on your doorstep not even two hours later. He thought about buying flowers, but figured that was too much.

Once he knocks, he’s only waiting for a few seconds before the lock clicks and the door opens. You peek out and when you see him standing there you smile. Opening the door, you step aside so he can enter your apartment.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you say, making your way over to the couch and patting the cushion next to you, beckoning him to come and sit down.

“I need to tell you something,” Taeyong says, cutting right to the chase. The butterflies in his stomach are going wild and he’s avoiding your gaze. He isn’t sure he can look at you when he says it, too afraid of your reaction. A look of disappointment, rejection. He’s not sure he could take it.

“Okay,” you say, and you put your hand on his knee, the smallest of touches but it makes him feel warm all over. “What is it?”

Taeyong opens his mouth, and then closes it again.

“I don’t have to give you the ‘you can always trust me’ talk again, right? You know you can tell me anything. I’m here to listen to your problems because I’m your friend.”

Taeyong sighs. “That is the problem.”

You go quiet for a moment before asking, “What do you mean?”

“You’re my friend,” he says. “Just my friend. But I… I can’t help myself. I just wish you were more.”

“More?” you ask softly, and finally, he looks at you.

For a moment, he’s breathless. You look the same as you do every day, hair a little messy, wearing a big t-shirt that’s probably Mark’s, but you look beautiful to Taeyong. And he knows he’s helplessly in love with you. He can’t keep pretending that he isn’t.

So he says it. “I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widen, but you don’t lean away from him or reject him, at least not immediately.

“I wanted to keep it to myself. I didn’t—I don’t—want to ruin our friendship. But every time I see you I just… I wish you were mine. And I can’t keep thinking like this without telling you how I feel.”

“Tae…”

“You don’t have to like me back. You don’t owe me anything. I just wanted you to know how I feel. And I’m sorry if this ruins things between us, but I hope it doesn’t because first and foremost, I like being your friend.”

“I like being your friend too,” you say. “But I’d like to be more too. I want to be yours. If you’ll have me.”

Taeyong is so surprised that he sits there shocked for a second, unable to speak. But once your words sink in he can’t stop himself from breaking into a wide smile. “I’d love that,” he says. “I’ll be yours for as long as you want me.”

You break into an identical smile. “I can’t see the future, but I imagine I’ll want you for a very long time.”

He blushes, and before he can back out, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering him, you lean over and press your lips against his. It’s just a quick peck, testing the waters. He doesn’t even realize it’s happening until it’s already over, and it isn’t enough. Almost instantly, he’s cupping your cheeks in his hands and pulling you back to him, kissing you tenderly, much deeper than before. 

It’s everything he imagined and more. He swipes his tongue over your lower lip and is met with the faint taste of strawberries. Your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, and it takes everything in him not to groan into the kiss. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

When you break apart, you’re both breathless and Taeyong doesn’t let go of you, instead gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells you because he can. He can tell you all the things he’s been thinking all these months.

You smile at him. “So are you. Sometimes it takes my breath away,” you admit. 

He laughs. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

When he lets go of you, you snuggle into his side and almost instinctively he wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him. It feels so right and he loves it.

“Wanna watch something?” you ask.

“Sure,” he says. “You pick.”

“Only if you promise not to complain.”

“Then you better pick something good,” he teases.

As you scroll through various options he presses a kiss to the top of your head and smiles to himself, his heart filled with love.

Two weeks later, he’s at the airport with you, waiting at the gate for you to board your flight. You’ve been holding his hand for the past hour and he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb gently while you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

As your boarding group is called, you stand up and stretch. Taeyong stands and pulls you into his arms. For a few seconds, all you do is stand in each other’s embrace and Taeyong presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, unafraid to admit it.

“I’ll miss you too,” you say with a soft smile. “But I’ll text you every day and call you as often as I can. It’s only a month.”

Taeyong sighs, looking at you.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” you tell him and as you smile, so does he.

You lean in pressing your lips to his and he rests his hands on your hips as you kiss. You break away before he wants to, but he knows you don’t have all the time in the world.

“I love you,” he says. 

It just kind of slips out, but he doesn’t regret saying it. He means it. He loves you and has for a while.

For a moment, you’re stunned, before you smile and say, “I love you too.”

He smiles at you, brushing some hair out of your face.

He kisses you one more time before you give him one last hug and then grab your suitcase and head for the boarding tunnel. You wave goodbye and he waves back, waiting until you disappear around the corner.

Before turning to leave the airport, he sends you a text.

Text me when you land. I love you

As he’s leaving the airport doors, his phone buzzes and he glances down at the screen to a text from you.

I love you too

He smiles at the screen before slipping his phone back into his pocket, a sense of warmth filling his chest. You love him. And it’s a wonderful feeling.

#nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct127 fanfic #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fluff #taeyong fic #taeyong scenarios

[zeenimf]

Farewell my Eyjafjörður | Vertu Bara

i haven't forgotten about this wip, as sigga and sera haunt my mind every living moment. have been feeling so angsty lately that i decided to reread some of the old writing and found this snippet at the bottom of my wip folder. i thought you might like it. the excerpt continues below the cut

Sigga stands peering out of the window and finds the streets outside deserted.

“I hope Óli and Fjólar are okay,” she says, closing the curtain and turning around. She doesn’t know the old man who owned this apartment very well, but it was the one house they could break into without leaving a trace.

Sera sits on the bed, her knees pulled up, clutching them with all her might. Her eyes are closed, held that way forcefully.

“You can open your eyes, if you’d like.” says Sigga. She does her best to sound sure of herself, to fake an ounce of confidence for Sera to latch onto, but she can't get the image of Sera’s possession out of her head. The way she hung in the air, her eyes a burning red, played with like a crude puppet. As such her words are nothing more than hollow promises. In truth Sigga isn’t sure of anything anymore.

taglist for Farewell my Eyjafjörður (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

“Or maybe you can get some sleep,” she continues. “If our plan has worked they shouldn’t be able to reach us now. I’ll just sleep in this chair, and you can get some rest in the bed.”

Sera does not answer. She hasn’t moved ever since Sigga carefully led her to the bed.

Outside the wind has picked up, howling through the streets. In other circumstances this could have been cosy, a night where you huddle up next to hearth with a cup of tea. But then Sera speaks, her words barely more than a whisper, words so frail they break upon reaching Sigga’s ears.

“Come.”

Sigga turns her head to Sera.

“Please,” she whispers again. It takes a moment for Sigga to register the question. She doesn't want to invade Sera's personal space, a space she normally defends furiously. But when Sera does not change her mind Sigga pulls herself out of the chair as slowly as she can, crossing the room until she stands at the edge of the bed. Only now does she realise that Sera is shaking, almost as if her body is shifting in and out of this world, resonating to those horrific melodies the spirits sang.

“You sure?”

Sera nods, her gesture barely visible, but enough for Sigga to catch with a lifetime of experience. She crawls onto the bed and sits next to Sera to the sound of creaking wood, inching towards her until their shoulders touch. Sigga jerks back, afraid for a moment that touching Sera would call out the ghosts.

“Fuck, sorry,” she says, biting her lip. Sera lets her head rest on her knees as she clutches her knees even harder, almost as if she wants to rip through her clothes and into her own skin.

“Vertu bara,” says Sera. Just stay. Sera’s r’s resonate through her whispered plea, rolling almost like a cat’s purr. She has always pronounced them deeper in her throat, her one tell that Icelandic isn’t her native language, but one Sigga has always liked. With a deep breath Sigga pushes herself gently against the huddled-up Sera, raising her arm above Sera and letting her hand drape on Sera’s shoulder, careful as not to touch her scarred arms.

It is Sera that jerks away this time, but not in such a way that she breaks away from Sigga’s grip. After the shock has waned Sera leans slightly into Sigga. Sigga takes Sera’s hair in response and brushes it to the side, making space for Sera to rest her head on Sigga’s shoulder.

“Do you still hate the way your fingers look?” says Sera.

“What?”

“Your fingers.”

Sigga does her best to suppress her laughter, but fails to keep it all in.

“What are you on about?”

“I just wanted to say that your long bony piano fingers are pretty,” says Sera.

Sigga can feel Sera’s body lean against her more and more, allowing her to fall into Sigga fully. She has stopped shaking too, and Sigga manages to catch a glimpse of Sera’s eyes without moving her head. Her face isn’t strained anymore, soundly asleep. Sigga pulls a blanket over Sera’s knees and closes her own eyes. Even though her position is uncomfortable she’s afraid to move, especially when Sera’s only just fallen asleep. Without realising she pulls Sera closer to her, cradling her, hoping that it’s enough to guard Sera from the nightmares that haunt her every night.

@ink-fireplace-coffee | @henrike-does-writing-sometimes | @writing-is-a-martial-art | @magic-is-something-we-create | @florraisons | @hysteriwah | @chayscribbles | @mashuheartwrites | @ettawritesnstudies | @strangerays ​ | @authortango

#fiction #wlw #writeblr #excerpt #romance #farewell #sigga #sera

[greghatecrimes]

hi! its my nerdy ass again!

ive been obsessing about your baby ducks au and seeing it everywhere. im rewatching my neighbor totoro right now and i can totally see house raising the kids on ghibli movies! hed have that box with all the movies in dvd.

thirteens favourite would be princess mononoke,for obvious reasons,two adass girlies,but i like to think chase would lie and say his is spirited away because it has a monster and a cool dragon when his favourite is actually howls moving castle cause my boy chase is a hopeless romantic lol

Eeeeeeee I love this SO much!!! I seriously can't put into words how huge this is making me smile. Of course Chase's favorite is actually Howl's Moving Castle, and House and Wilson and Thirteen totally all know it, but they let him pretend it's Spirited Away so he doesn't feel made fun of (plus Spirited Away rocks, it's always a great one to watch on a movie night). (Something something once they're teenagers, they finally tease Chase a bit with it, and it's about being as nit picky with his hair as Howl is😂)

And Thirteen's fave being Princess Mononoke, omg YES!!!! I need to put that one on sometime soon, Ghibli movies are really nice to have in the background because the art and the music is always so beautiful! (I'm sure after I watch it, I will have a lot more to say in particular about bby Thirteen loving it! I've never actually seen the whole thing from start to finish- I wasn't raised on Ghibli movies, so I only first heard of them when I was in high school. lots of them I've only seen parts when they're on while hanging out, or the handful that my gf and I have watched together the whole way through. But now I have good reason to watch it ASAP :D)

House totally has the box set with all the DVDs, and around the time Chase (age five) first gets placed with them, Thirteen's (age three) favorite toy is a Totoro plushie basically as big as her. She likes to make him outfits for whatever they're playing, and she loops Chase in on "stealing" clothes from the clean laundry for them pretty quickly. Then after he's dressed Thirteen pulls Chase into imaginary play with her and Totoro. Sibling bonding :) (Of course the outfits never match but look charming nonetheless. I'm imagining one of Wilson's button down work shirts buttoned crookedly, a tie tied completely wrong, and one of House's baseball caps)

#this whole concept is so sweet and fluffy it eased my joint pain #ask #bunnybunbun0 #this is SO cute #baby ducks au #greg house #remy thirteen hadley #robert chase #james wilson

[perexcri]

there’s nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you - [byler week - day 5]

yeah so i thought this fit the secret identities thing until i wrote it and realized it uhh. isn’t quite that. so enjoy whatever this is i guess - lots of miscommunication and a fun set-up for potential enemies to lovers

also it’s my personal headcanon that Will is a music snob, so if you don’t like that then uh,,,,i guess skip this one idk

title from: wilson (expensive mistakes) by fall out boy

dedicated to: the listening party for fall out boy’s new album that i went to last week in a city an hour away from me; i came up with this stupid idea on the drive there! indie record store in [city redacted], you were very nice, and thank you for having a decent selection of poetry i could pick from :]

Don’t ask Will how this ended up being his job, because he honestly doesn’t know. One day, they had a meeting for the university’s queer artists’ zine where he was complaining about everyone’s responses to the new U2 album (yes, it sounds different from other U2 albums, but obviously if you look at the lyrical and metatextual themes of Achtung Baby, it’s still very much U2), and then BAM–suddenly he’s in charge of doing the cover art for the zine and writing music reviews.

Sure, he could probably turn it down, but nobody else will take the job.

Also, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t do it right, because, as much as he loves this group, their music tastes are…well…not everybody has an older brother like Jonathan Byers who makes sure they grow up with proper music opinions.

So, if anything, Will does this to keep the spirit of reviewing and recommending underground artists in New York City alive for the zine, and also because he doesn’t think anybody else could do it justice, no offense to them.

But Will is loathing this job for their upcoming edition. He’s sitting in that weird liminal time between class periods where people are in the chaotic throes of rushing around or throwing their notebooks open to prepare for the lecture; his elbows are pressed into the desk that’s just a little too small, and his head is in his hands. He’s staring down at the one submission he’s been putting off for precisely three semesters, because the president of the zine said it needed to be done before they moved on to new submissions, so could you please just lower your standards for one night and go listen to them play so you can write the damn review?

The Fellowship of the Ring, the submission card reads in faded pencil. Scratched under it in the slightly-fresher ink of the zine’s president’s pen, it reads: Thursday - The Purple Hall - 8 PM.

And, God, Will wishes this show was just gonna be a live reading of the Tolkein book. It would be so much better than what he knows it actually is.

The Fellowship of the Ring is a local, up-and-coming act in the underground venues of the greater New York City area that everybody loves because they sound like Nirvana and, you guessed it, throw out Tolkein references like they’re Led Zeppelin. They’re huge on college campuses, where students pass around live-recorded tapes of their supposedly-legendary performances all the time, gushing about how even the bass sounds, the peeling shrieks of guitars, the way the vocalist wavers between grumbles and ethereal, falsetto howls. They even gush about the lyrics and how they truly capture the experiences of Western youth in these first few years of the new decade: malaise, boredom, this sense that there is no great struggle for the future left for them, only an endless drowning in comfortable excess.

Will had even seen a girl with the band’s logo tattooed on her shoulder.

Which is…fine. He guesses.

If you like shitty music, that is.

See, that’s the fundamental problem here: Will likes doing these silly little reviews for live music around New York because half the time, the music is passably decent, and even if that doesn’t work, the lyrics can make up for it. There’s so much creativity in the air, and people are doing so much with it.

Not The Fellowship of the Ring, though.

Where everybody else sees innovation, Will sees reductivity; where everybody screams about the charm of the lyrics and the pop culture references they sneak in, Will sees a demeaning pandering to an audience. Every single time he has been subjected to the squawks and out-of-tune guitars of The Fellowship, he’s spent his time thinking he would be better off to save himself the time and just listen to Nirvana’s Nevermind for the millionth time, because that’s all The Fellowship’s trying to do, anyway, and at least then Will could listen to something good.

Yeah, Will hates The Fellowship of the Ring, and now he’s squeezing his temples so hard that the letters on the submission card are beginning to swim in his vision.

“Hey!”

Thankfully, Will is saved by his very friendly, incredibly good-looking neighbor in History of the American Constitution, Mike Wheeler.

“Hey!” he says, trying to gain back the energy that seeing The Fellowship’s submission card had unwittingly drained out of him.

And honestly, seeing that flash of Mike’s smile and how the fluorescents dance in his eyes, Will feels like he has enough energy to power the sun now, even if they are going to have to sit through yet another lecture about Article II–whatever the hell that means.

“What’s got you so down?” Mike asks, head tilted to the side, some of his hair tumbling into his eyes, and all Will wants to do is push it away–

But, no, he has to have a coherent conversation right now, so he shakes his head and tries his best to return Mike’s smile. “Oh, nothing…Just something for that zine I work on.”

“Oh, yeah!” Mike snaps his fingers, causing some of the buttons on his jacket to rattle together. He always wears a leather jacket no matter the weather or the rest of his attire, and today, paired with plaid pajama bottoms, held-together-by-duct-tape converse, and a baggy Care Bears shirt, it shouldn’t work, but in Will’s eyes, it does. “I think I saw one of those around! I wanted to grab a copy, but somebody else did before I could get to it.”

“I can bring you a copy of the next issue,” Will says, then, remembering the task at hand, groans and puts his head back in his hands. “That is, if I even survive it.”

“What, are they making you skip classes for it?”

“No, worse: they’re making me listen to a band I hate.”

Mike winces. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“That sucks.”

“Right?”

“Can’t you just, like…push it off?”

“I did. For three semesters.” The professor wanders in with a mumbled greeting and a steaming cup of coffee in hand, and Will lowers his voice in anticipation of the lecture beginning. “That’s why I have to do it now.”

“Maybe it would help if somebody went with you?”

Despite having flirted with each other mercilessly all semester during this one shared class of theirs, they haven’t hung out much outside of it, so to be faced with the possibility of something that could potentially be labeled as a date between them is shocking. For a moment, Will can forget about the future torment awaiting him Thursday evening at The Purple Hall’s listening stage, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, having somebody to talk to over the drone of the lazily-played guitars could make the evening slightly more bearable.

“Yeah,” Will finally says, a grin stretching across his face. “Of course. Yeah, that’d be awesome!”

Mike returns the look twofold, and one of his legs begins to bounce. “Awesome! When is it?”

As the lecture begins, Will resorts to a torn piece of notebook paper, like he’s a kid passing notes in class again to survive the boredom. He scribbles The Purple Hall - Thursday 7 PM, then hands it to Mike, who responds with a quizzical look at the paper, scratches something out, and hands it back to Will.

The Purple Hall - Thursday 7 PM 6?

Will shoots him a thumbs up, prays it wasn’t too awkward, and then folds the sheet of paper up and sticks it in his pocket.

And if he carries it around there for the rest of the week, then that’s his business alone.

---

The pros: this is one of Will’s favorite music venues, there’s several bands to look forward to tonight, and Mike seems wholly invested in the idea of this being a date, if him leaning closer and the playful hand on Will’s knee mean anything.

The cons: Will has to listen to the fucking Fellowship of the Ring in approximately ten minutes.

He’s able to put the thoughts off for the first hour. After all, The Fellowship isn’t set to perform until 8–he and Mike had met at 6 as planned, and Will has spent the first hour and a half trying to be blissfully unaware of the torturous fate awaiting him.

Even as his skin begins to crawl at the thought of having to hear those plucky, out-of-tune guitars and the lead singer screeching about the Gulf War under the guise of Star Wars references, he does feel a little settled. Mike’s fingers are surprisingly warm, and the alcohol they’ve been nursing makes his chest glow with warmth. It’s easier to laugh, to be focused solely on Mike and these wonderful, looping conversations they’ve found themselves ensnared in.

“This one’s good!” Mike half-shouts over the drum solo of the current act, consisting of just a drummer and a bassist crooning over their heady rhythms. They’re called the Jazz Squares, or something like that. Whatever.

At least they’re not The Fellowship.

“The drink or the band?” Will queries. His own head’s spinning with the beer he’s been sipping on for the better part of an hour, and he already feels lightheaded, because he’s a lightweight, and Mike’s got something to do with these pulses of courage thumping in his chest, right?

“Both!” Mike takes another long sip from his Jolly-Rancher-blue mixer. Will had asked him what was in it earlier, and all Mike had responded with was Coconut-something and a whole lot of rum!

They’ve talked about so much already–their families, their majors, their hobbies. Mike comes here a lot, he reveals, and he mentions that he plays guitar, too. He keeps it a playful secret when Will asks for more information, though: how long have you played? Do you write, too? Are you in a band, because I could put you in the zine if you wanted–

It’s a surpriseee, Mike had drawled in response, a stupid grin twisting his mouth as his fingers had vacated Will’s knee momentarily just to ruffle through Will’s hair.

As the Jazz Squares’ set finally dies down to some spotty applause (this is more of an alternative scene, after all, but a gig is a gig), Will lets out a groan, melodramatically knocking his forehead into the table, and finally drags out his notebook.

“What’s that for?” Mike asks, eyebrows high on his forehead.

“For that review I have to do,” Will grumbles.

“But isn’t that act on in, like, two hours?”

Will blinks a couple of times. He supposes he hadn’t actually told Mike which group he was here for, but he thought the fact that he originally proposed a meet-up time of 7 would have communicated enough that it was somewhere around then. “Um, no? I didn’t say anything, I guess, but I think they’re up next.”

Mike’s fingers begin to nervously tap on what remains of his electric blue potion. As his and Will’s gazes snag together for several heady seconds, he purses his lips, then throws back the rest of his drink, swallowing the last of it in just a couple of gulps.

Will slowly draws his notebook out, flipping to the page he had specifically marked The Fellowship of the Ring with a disheartened, frighteningly life-like frowny face scrawled next to it. “Is something wrong?”

Mike drags his wrist across his mouth, smearing any remaining drops of blue onto his leather jacket’s sleeve. “So this band you hate that you have to review…It’s The Fellowship of the Ring?”

“Yeah.” Will taps the top of his paper. “I didn’t say anything, but…Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Um.”

Will quirks an eyebrow up. “I mean, do you like them? That’s fine, of course, I mean–people have different tastes and what-not. I’d just have to seriously question your judgment in all matters music-related, I guess.”

“Um,” Mike repeats, fingers now tapping a dangerously fast staccato against their bartop table. It makes the remaining beer in Will’s bottle slosh around. “Um…This is bad.”

“What? Are you a super fan or something?” Thanks to the alcohol, Will feels bold enough to scrunch his nose up with disgust. “I mean, fine, whatever. But seriously, if you want a second date, I’m gonna take you to a record store so you can hear some actually decent music. If you’re impressed by that fucking band’s reductive bullshit, you’ll be positively amazed by a group like The Clash or Smashing Pumpkins or–hell, even fucking U2–”

“Excuse me!” the MC calls over the mic; when the feedback whines, he takes a second to tap at the mic, then announces: “Calling everyone’s favorite up-and-coming group, The Fellowship of the Ring, for soundcheck–their set starts in five!”

The club erupts into raucous cheers. Will has to hide the involuntary groan of annoyance he lets out behind his hand.

Mike casts a nervous glance at Will, then pushes his chair out and looks like he’s going to walk away, the buttons on his jacket clicking together. He nearly trips over the saggy laces of his converse, and through the tears in his jeans, he almost looks like he’s shaking.

“Hey, wait!” Will says, reaching forward and grasping Mike’s wrist. It makes the other guy stop, a blush creeping up into his cheeks, and Will tries to push down his distaste for the band and lets out a sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry–I was being stupid. It’s just a band, after all. If you like them, that’s fine, and I will…” he swallows here, and it hurts, taking on this insurmountable task of trying to push his music-snob’s pride down. “I won’t make fun of you for it. I promise.”

Mike blinks a couple of times before a reassuring grin overtakes his features. “Uh…Nope. That’s okay, Will. It’s not for everyone. I wasn’t like…trying to run out on you or anything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m still gonna be here.”

“Then why are you getting up?”

Mike points at the stage, where a drummer and bassist are setting up their instruments, their eyes scanning the room in search of their infamous guitarist and singer. “Didn’t you hear? We have soundcheck. The set starts in five.”

Will slowly nods. “Yeah. Then the next act starts, and I have to scratch down whatever notes I can think of for them, and then we can get back to our date.”

Mike stares at him for several seconds.

And then it all catches up with Will.

“Oh, shit–”

Mike’s grin turns into something playful, his eyebrows shooting up beneath his bangs. “Can’t wait to read your official review of my fucking band’s reductive bullshit!” he says with a two-fingered salute, then spins around to make his way to the stage. He’s bathed in the dim lighting of the stage, hunching over his guitar the second he straps it around his chest, and Will wonders how somebody who was brave enough to wander around in a leather jacket and a fucking Care Bears shirt and look that good could be involved in a band that’s just–

This bad, Will finishes for himself as Mike strums his first cord, its electricity shaking the walls of the club, and he begins yet another signature Fellowship song that’s nothing more than various John Hughes and horror movie quotes juxtaposed over warring drums and guitars.

Of course Will would be stupid enough to fall for the lead singer of his most-hated band in the greater New York City area.

#byler #bylerweek2023 #ficlet #did not feel like messing around with html for line breaks today so sorry for the extra dashes :))) #also the will being a music snob thing is a headcanon so like #pls don't crucify me i just think it's a silly thing to write about #anyway #i think this could be secret identities if i'd been willing to commit more words and planning but i wasn't so <3

[horseshoemybeloved]

wait i am really intrigued with your versions of the suitehearts i love the designs and seeing your take on them so please infodump about them to me about this obscure fob au that i’ve been insane about for years

It is now time for my long ass ( my version of the ) suitehearts masterpost * wiggles fingers *

Keep in mind!!!

So basically first things first, my versions of ‘em are Completely different characters. Some draw/view the suitehearts as fob in silly costumes ( which is super chill ) but my versions are very different. So when I say “ Benzedrine is a repressed gay wizard obsessed with abba“ I am in no ways implying that Patrick is a repressed gay wizard obsessed with abba. There are some similarities between people but it is never intentional. ( also I’m constantly changing stuff nothings set in stone lol )

Da world!

The world is kinda like a purgatory, everyone there has died but could move to another plane. Thusly there are people from all different decades. Magic is very common here, a lot of people can do small basic spells. But it takes years of practice to become a wizard, and decades to become a good one. There are 5 main,,, species? Races? I’m not quite sure how to label em. But we have:

your average human, nothing really of note here

elemental benders ( they are born with a cavity in their chest relating to what “ element “ they control. Some control water some Disco music! )

Pixies/sprites, they usually have abnormal colored skin, pointy ears, and the ability to float around. They naturally have good connection with spirits and can summon them when needed ( if they’re good at it )

Angels, they’re naturally fun colors, have magical hair, and vaguely cow like ears?. Angles can use their magic to make themselves look like normal humans tho. They usually live together and provide comfort for people. But there has been a rebellion happening and now a lot of angels try and live life not for the sole service of others but now for themselves ( is allegory 4 womanhood moment )

And then of course furries xoxo

Now the reason you even started reading this, info about the suitehearts!

Dr. benzedrine is vaguely narcissistic and full of himself, but in an oddly charming way. Personality wise hes a mixture of howl ( hmc ) without Any of the swauve, mostly just the dramatics, and aziraphale ( good omens ). Hes a middle aged man who Will Not admit hes gay, he is Incredibly repressed. He was apart of the huge royal academy of wizards, best one they’d ever had. But had a falling out with the leader in charge and now just has his own little wizard store. He befriended Donnie at a little diner because he made a reference to a Kate bush or Fiona apple song, or something or other. Him and sandman do Not get along, sandman often visits the store just to annoy him. But they have more similarities than they know, they just need to stop bitching at eachother!

( also he was born like 5’ something but the spirits in charge of transferring people to this plane were like “ I’d be mad funny if we made him really short he’d be so mad “ )

He is my autistic little meow meow 😔🙏

Horseshoe has a regal flowyness to him, semi-oblivious to his own charm, and loves to dance the night away. When everyone around him is disheveled and falling apart, he still manages to look fantastic. He appears to be the dumb blonde of the group, which he definitely doesn't mind and loves to indulged in the trope. ( he may not know where or even what Sweden is but at least hes pretty ) But he is a deeply creative person, and that in its own special way shows an intelligence. He works at a small local craft store ( bcus then he gets first dibs on all the cool new art supplies :D ) he is an angel, but chooses to focus his little magical power on constantly disguising himself cus he doesn’t wanna be bothered lol.

Donnie is very nurturing and kind, yet extremely energetic and bubbly, think kinda like,,, super sweet valleygirl. He’s slightly based off YouTuber Garret watts. He is very big solid guy. He has a bit of a problem with feeling like he Needs to take care of everyone, like it’s job ( he’s workin through it in therapy ) Like I mentioned there are people who are like elemental benders, Donnie is one of them. He has a little terrarium with either a mushroom or a daisy, and can make vines grow from his hands and legs. Donnie is also autistic ( heavily based on my experiences with it, he’s also just kinda heavily based off of me ) He's from da 60s, during the whole hippy thing.

Sandman is your typical bitchy mallgoth, who goes around calling everyone a " poser" and everything " poser shit " they put up a bitchy angry front but deep down theyre an insecure sensitive little guy. Sandman is a Pixie so that means they can summon these ( usless ) spirit guys ( they’re not very good at it ) shes also kinda Super into typical """ cringey """ stuff from 2015 ( ie undertale, fnaf, the lving tombstone, mlp ) Sandman is semi kinda not really it’s complicated openly non-binary, but still seems to repress quite a bit and just push away all deeper feelings. I thought it would be interesting to experiment with a character who is a trans femme gay guy, kinda like a reverse trans masc lesbian I guess. Idk lol don’t get mad at me

Anything else kiddo?

The format id choose to express this story would def be a movie. Uhhh… I can’t really think of much else right now, but feel free to ask questions I luv talking about em :3

#this is so cringe but at least I am free #so uhhh yeah 🧍‍♂️ #my art #americas suitehearts #dr benzedrine #horseshoe #Donnie #sandman #ocs #oc story #or as I like to call em ‘ step ocs ‘ #cus maybe I didn’t birth them but I sure as hell raised em #gotta draw me with a ‘ I’m the dad who stepped up’ shirt

[intj-writer]

How would you represent the 16 personality types as animals?

ENTJ - Lions & Tigers, proud but predatory and in charge, amazing sense of presence, easy to be in awe of even as they destroy and scare everyone in their path, often becomes a big target for others because everyone wants to say that they were able to “bring the fat cat down”

ENTP - Seals & Sealions, the clowns of the sea who are awkward, get into all sorts of trouble on land and the sea, but lovable, always barking never shutting up, until they do and then they are very sad (or are trying to find a way to break the silence and any other rule you imposed on them)

ENFJ - Horses, proud and strong and carries others, sometimes are independent stallions that cannot be tamed, sometimes can be your literal nightMARE, but also liable to be showhorses prancing around and DEMANDING attention from the audience

ENFP - Dogs, usually intelligent and generally loves people and are very protective of the “underdog” but ultimately enjoys having fun and doingt hings to get praise/pets and being affectionate towards those they love, comes in all sorts of sizes and colours like the rainbow beings they are

ESTJ - Rhinos & Bulls, generally BIG stubborn herbivores that could run you over if you get in their way of doing things, can be very loud, very gruff, and very in your territory trying to make it THEIR territory

ESTP - Racoons & Weasels, sneaky and adventurous, gets into all sorts of trouble but surprisingly tenacious and clever, you find them getting into garbage and things you thought you locked them out of, but there they are again, making a mess!

ESFJ - Bears, protective of those in their charge (mama bear!), generally very sweet and generous and maybe a bit “dumb”, but watch out when they are passionate about something! THEY GET VERY LOUD AND SCARY AND IN YOUR FACE!

ESFP - Birds, flighty and freewheeling, but often graceful and pretty, sometimes a bird of prey who can target and hunt targets with exacting vengeance, or can be sweet songbord hyping up the coming seasons.. or annoying woodpecker who won’t just shut the hale up

INTJ - Cats (housecats), often aloof and independent, but can be very curious and affectionate when you have gained their trust, liable to bite or swipe at someone with their claws if they try to get too familiar, often seen as very exact but sometimes you catch them in meme-like stumbles

INTP - Sea Anemonae, Cucumbers & Squirts, very cool but very weird and unclear if they belong with all the other animals, an ecosystem of their own inside their heads, fascinating creatures where you’re not sure how they stay alive

INFJ - Rodents, often small and hidden but are capable of digging through mud and human trash to make complex networks or extract the essences of humanity, intuitive sense of danger and doom (rats escaping a sinking ship), usually very cute but a lot of people are scared of them because they can be vicious (or suspected of carrying mystery pathogens)!

INFP - Deer & Other Pecora (like gazelles), seen as peaceful and gentle but are easily alarmed and may kill you by throwing their bodies into your moving vehicles out of nowhere (half the time because they think they are saving your life, the other half because they won’t listen or GO THE OTHER WAY when you’re honking at them), very funny but will tend to ghost you and run away due to anxious nature

ISTJ - Ants & Insects, hard working and industrious, creating complex systems that helps sustain their society even though maybe very boring seeming on an individual level, much stronger than they appear, quietly holding many burdens on top of their shoulders for the sake of a job well done

ISTP - Wolves & other solitary predators, often alone and solitary in spirit but can gather in packs and work in hierarchical systems, quiet and wary until they start howling or are on the sudden attack, very cool but can be very territorial or hang around the wrong packs out of group loyalty

ISFJ - Spiders, dutiful weavers who seem to be in the know of everything that’s going on, so quietly prepares self and ties up loose strings for everyone else, though often small, can be terrifying once you understand how big a web they can weave to tangle you into

ISFP - Snakes, sometimes cute, docile and harmless, other times clingy, suffocating and poisonous, mysterious and often mesmerizing in their artful grace, but once you see them really mobilize or seek to engulf something, it’s hard to not feel disgusted.

- Prax Nguyen (Quora)

#mbti types #mbti #intj writer #not mine #intj perspective

[theshittymarimo]

Dreams and Daemons

Chapter 3: Franky, Brook Fandom: One Piece Summary: Introduction of Harley and Alma. Words: 1 191 Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Franky - HARLEY, Texas Longhorn

“Fertility, masculinity, strength. With a fiery temperament and no lack of brute strength, the bull is a very strong symbol of masculine power. It is often associated with the sun, but also with the moon and the skies. It is also a symbol of justice and order.”         - “Dæmons Unveiled: Navigating the Bonds of this World”, Filipe Haulman

Franky’s daemon, Harley, loved to transform into ferocious animals that looked impressing, causing people to think twice before they tried to do something to them. Franky delighted in it and constantly challenged Harley to change into new, stronger animals that he could create new weapons to, making him into a super cyborg daemon. Designing new weapons that made Harley stronger than any other daemon they met was exhilarating; he looked super cool! Regardless of who you were, you were bound to hesitate when you saw a rhinoceros with cannons mounted on each shoulder. It didn’t matter that Iceburg was speaking to them like they were fools for thinking so, Franky thought he was probably just jealous as his daemon was a stupid little mouse. She couldn’t even carry a little laser, Franky thought, although now when he was thinking of it, that would be pretty super that too… But his Harley was undeniably the coolest. However, when the marines came to take Tom-san away, no shape mattered anymore. Even a rhinoceros with cannons was powerless before the World Government. That fateful day, Franky stood on the rails in front of the train carrying their creator to his death. Beside him stood Harley, tears welling in his eyes as he changed into a bull with long horns for the first time. The perfect form, if any, to stop an oncoming train. Together, they would surely stop the train. No matter what. They wouldn’t let them take Tom-san away. Franky’s body broke and Harley’s body shattered into golden dust. Franky had probably never been closer to death than that day. Harley returned to him as the bull again, and after a few initial days of silence when Franky was too busy struggling to survive, he could finally focus on his daemon again. “That thing?” Franky spoke for the first time, prompting Harley to perk up from where he lay patiently while Franky worked. “Mm”, Harley hummed, looking over his unscathed body. “Seems like it.” Initially, it felt like a bitter reminder of their failure that day. But Franky soon discovered how practical it was with a long hanger attached to his daemon, no need to put down any tools, and Harley was still strong with a couple of sharp tips. Even if he would totally look more super with a couple of cannons mounted on him. Brook - ALMA, Dog, Austrian Black and Tan Hound

“Companionship, loyalty, protection. Dog medicine can often teach us how to be a good friend, the power of forgiveness, and how to love unconditionally. Dog people tend to have good intuition, keen senses and quick-learning, intelligent minds.”           - “Dæmons Unveiled: Navigating the Bonds of this World”, Filipe Haulman

“Ooowoooowoooo..!” Nami, Usopp and Chopper had been quaking in their boots from the sound. An eerie wail emanated from the ghostly ruined ship in front of them, sounding like the lament of a spirit crying for an impossible redemption amidst the dark fog. It felt straight out of a horror story. Nami really, really didn’t want to climb up the rope. Screw the lottery; she wanted to stay alive, damn it! She lamented while crying in the little boat they had used to approach the ship. Damn that captain who had been shivering in excitement since they first saw the ship. Surely Sanji was enough? The spine-chilling howling echoed again, and Nami barely kept herself from yelping. Then, something white suddenly began to shift through the wood of the ship in front of her. She felt her face pale as she watched a freaking transparent head of something slowly revealing itself, until she saw two black holes emerging from the rotting wood of the ship. Staring straight at her. No. No, no, no, no, nonononono! She shrieked in horror as she climbed up to Luffy and Sanji in record time. She didn’t even complain when Sanji got all lovey-dovey when she jumped into his arms. Let him die first; she didn’t care. It all got worse from there. The damn skeleton showed up—an impossibly moving skeleton, mind you, that asked to see her panties. She was so done. But then, through the rotten wooden floor, a freaking ghost appeared! She knew it was the thing she had seen earlier, no mistaking those dark holes for eyes. But now she could see it was a dog. All white and slightly see-through, like a freaking ghost (it couldn’t be repeated enough times). Oh, and it slightly hovered above the wooden floor; did she mention that part? Like. A. Freaking. Ghost. Luffy was ecstatic. That idiot. She wanted to kill him when he asked them to join his crew before she or Sanji knew what was going to happen. And the skeleton said yes! The ghost dog next to him wagged its tail happily. She could feel her soul leave her body. --- Brook was ecstatic, he had met people! People! They weren’t hallucinations but had invited him over to their ship. He hadn’t been on another ship in fifty years, so he knew that it wasn’t something he was imagining. Alma was just as excited as he was. She was leaping and running around in the kitchen with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She showed no care that half of the time she was running through some of the people in the room who shouted and yelped in shock from the chilly feeling whenever she did so. The other daemons in the room clearly didn’t know how to react when the strange daemon jumped up to them and licked them. But they couldn’t feel the tongue; instead, it disappeared into their body with a chill. The tiger daemon had tried to swipe after her, but to her clear bewilderment, her paw just swept through the transparent body in front of her. Brook soon explained to them what had happened to him. That he had eaten a devil fruit and when he died, he returned as a spirit. “Ah, and I had Alma by my side!” he said happily, looking to Alma who stopped in the middle of her lap around the table and beamed up to him as well. “Well, she was a spirit as well. We searched for my body and when we found it, it was already a skeleton. But I was able to return to my body, and Alma stayed by my side!” Alma flew up into the air with a happy woof. Brook introduced himself as Dead Bones Brook and Alma joined in happily – “And I’m Phantom Alma!” The new people they met stared at them in bewilderment, while the captain’s smile somehow widened even more.

I had a hard time to choose between two names for Franky's daemon, and in the last moment before uploading this chapter I changed it into Harley. I wanted a typical american name for him and with Franky's bike Harley felt like a very fitting name. A rhino could've been a very fitting animal for him but I had an image of a Texas Longhorn for him for a long time, and it feels like a more humble animal for him fitting for the lesson he learned after Tom. Instead of a horn for attacking enemies, he got an animal with horns also made for taking attacks. Dear Brook and Alma.. At first I was searching for an austrian animal for him but soon it came to me that I didn't have a dog yet and it feels very fitting for him. And so I found the breed of Austrian Black and Tan hound. For a long time I imagined Alma as a skeleton as well, but one day it hit me that she would be perfect as a spirit like Brook is when he can let his soul out of his body. Somehow she didn't turn into a normal deamon again after Brook's first death, nobody is really sure what she is now, but on the other hand nobody is sure if this have ever happened before. I wanted to give an image of both before and after Brook's first death so you get two different images of them both here. As a bonus, the name, Alma, coincides with the Spanish word meaning "the soul". If you're wondering about Jimbei, fishmen and mermen are different from humans in that they don't have daemons. For humans it was just another way that they were different from humans and made them more similar to animals. But to fish-/mermen it is said that their whole souls are inside of them and around them in the sea, they are never separated. While humans are the strange exception in the world who are so separated in their souls that they're splitted, always searching for fulfillment.

#one piece #cyborg franky #franky #cutty flam #soul king brook #brook #op fanfic #op fanfiction #my fanfiction #fanfiction #daemon au

[arcthebreeder]

DMO: Digimon Military Operatives_41.TXT

I can't get a rest, not even during Christmas Eve can't I?

First of all, happy holidays! I hope everyone who reads this blog has a merry Christmas!

I'm sorry to be talking about this during the holidays but it is what it is, although I ran out of those a long time ago. But I came to inform you about a situation I got in approximately two days ago, while I was walking around my neighborhood.

I was preparing for a bday party and, in the middle of the street, I found a military stand, I wasn't specifically in a rush so I decided to sneak in and see what could be wandering around that place and oh boy we did find something.

Almost as soon as we got into the system, Herissmon jumped to see what could be there, she has a very hyperactive personality so she started bouncing around the place, I let her do that because Canoweissmon was taking care of her, so she was pretty safe after some time of not finding anything, I decided to get out, however, we got attacked by an old friend, the Tobiumon guy, who at this point doesn't have a Tobiumon anymore, but a Regalecusmon, an Ultimate level, aquatic type, Virus attribute Digimon. He attacked from the back using Regalecusmon's Reactor Discharge, an attack that blows everything away within a mile radius, the blast sent my Digimon flying, so i sent out Regulusmon to help and backed up Herissmon so she wouldn't get hurt, both Regulus and Canoweissmon began attacking, however, Regalecusmon somehow got to avoid the attacks, and then, they started showing their strategy, the Tobiumon guy, who at this point will get the nickname "Ocean Man" (I'm hilarious) deployed his other digimon, Cthyllamon, an ultimate level, fairy type and Virus attribute digimon similar to a MarinAngemon that has fallen into the darkness. Once it came out, it used its special move "Ocean Hell" a move that creates a domain akin to the depths of the sea and stills the fighting spirit of those affected by it, and thus, Canoweissmon and Regulusmon had trouble keeping up with the fight, not only due to the effects of the Ocean Hell, but thanks to the pressure that was being applied to their bodies. When a space like this is created, it simulates the conditions that said would have in the Digital World, considering this, they were basically divers with basic to no protection in the middle of the oceanic depths, Regalecusmon took this chance to use its Briona Strike to attack, Regalecusmon is considered the current apex of the marine food chain of the Digital World, and it was showing us why.

Canoweissmon and Regulusmon are used to fight in the air, not in the middle of the sea, and their bodies were suffering from extreme damage, I didn't have (and still I don't have) any aquatic digimon to cope with the situation, but then I thought about something, maybe overheating the area would help us either get rid of the Ocean Hell or escape, but when I ordered Canoweissmon to start recharging for the Gran Nova, Cthyllamon's mouth tendrils trapped him with the Buccal Rush, so I had only one option, I retrieved Regulusmon, and sent out Herissmon, why you ask? Because she could use her Lighting Fur to shoot her quills to Cthyllamon's tendrils and make it flinch, so Canoweissmon could attack, however, this didn't go as intended.

Even tho Herissmon did some damage to Cthyllamon's tendrils, she's still a Child, so Cthyllamon easily got rid of her by just using another tendril to throw her at Canoweissmon, I gotta be thanked because it wasn't Regalecusmon who at this point was too sure of its win to take care of anything, so I thought of something... Helloogarmon's flames.

It's only presence would boil the whole place down, so I took the risk and sent him out. He was confused at first, but easily got what was going on and ATTENDED MY ORDER to use the Howling Burst, that burnt the Ocean Hell and damaged almost everyone, including himself, once the space was free of any water that could be used against us, Herissmon got on top of Helloogarmon's head, and they both charged against the two marine digimon while I was treating Canoweissmon and with a combination of Helloogarmon's magical flames and Herissmon being used as a basketball to take advantage of its electricity imbued quills, Regalecusmon and Cthyllamon fell unconscious.

The Ocean Man disconnected out of shame and I searched among the files that were inside the military stand, it appears to be a database of Digital weapons, such as the Dramon Killers and the Brave Shield used by Wargreymon or the Móralltach and Beagalltach, the swords wielded by Diarbbitmon.

They were probably stealing these things to equip their Sealsdramon and others with them, they're also probably stolen. Oh, and here's something interesting, Helloogarmon was sniffing through the equipment and found something pretty interesting, a wrench looking mace called the "Vánagandr" he apparently liked it a lot so I let him keep it, from what I got to see, the Vánagandr is a mace used by Soloogarmon, another one of Loogamon's evolutions, during my free time in the holidays, I'll investigate on how to use this to help Helloogarmon Slide Evolve into Soloogarmon, I'll get to what exactly Slide Evolution is once I finish my research, but know that probably the results will be amazing.

#digimon #blog #blog entry #coding #larp #story #fictional world #digimon vpet #vpet #virtual pet #v pet #digital monster #digital monsters #dmo #helloogarmon #soloogarmon #slide evolution #fighting #Regalecusmon #cthulhu #cthyllamon #ocean

[windupnamazu]

smells like sardine spirit!

ffxivwrite2023 #07: noisome having an extremely offensive smell.

Lunya, @hqmillioncorn's Babycorn and Cherrypit, and @perrytheplatyborg's Himbo Hooters. A Realm Reborn, flowrverse (shitpost flavour). 1155wc. ⮞ A little deodorant would go a long way, but I'm not sure you'd remember what that is either.

It was a normal day in the Lavender Beds. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Babycorn Corn was eating mud.

Just last week, «flowr»'s FC hall finally finished construction after a gruelling week of its members running around gathering as much gil as they could. The very last of it came from Lunya, who apparently squeezed an Ul'dahn merchant so dry she came back with not just his gil but the clothes he was wearing that day and the rights to his nextborn child, the contract of which she promptly set on fire. While the house was fully built, what it wasn't was furnished, and with no kitchen to dig through the cupboards of and unwilling to swallow her pride and ask anyone for lunch, Babycorn did what she did best: improvising food.

"Thish mud's pretty tashty," she told her baby brother between mouthfuls of the wet dirt. Cherry babbled a giggle out as he slapped his oversized sleeves to the ground, splashing their midday meal onto his face. "But itsh kinda hot today, ishn't it?"

It was an impressive 32 degrees Celsius, of which the Eorzean equivalent is unknown to me, reader, and remarkably humid. It had rained that morning and left the Shroud quite muggy.

As the siblings alternated between rolling around in the mud and eating it they didn't notice the hulking figure stumbling up the hill towards the cottage, water and mud dripping from his form with each tired step as he searched for sanctuary. As he reached the gate he teetered and fell straight through it and into the middle of Babycorn and Cherrypit's lunch with a huge splash.

"So… hungry…" he moaned into the mud with a horribly deep rumble of his stomach.

Babycorn's pom nearly flew off her head in alarm, kept on her head simply because it was weighed down only by the layer of mud he splashed on her.

"MONSTER?!" she shrieked, diving for Cherry and whisking them both out of their puddle.

Snapping into consciousness, the so-called monster straightened up and looked around in a panic, mud dripping from pearly white fangs. "MONSTER? WHERE?" the monster shouted, only to be hit once more by the sheer heat of the day and how dehydrated and hungry he was. His head hit the mud once more with an exhausted groan.

"Babagaga," Cherry said wisely from the safety of his sister's arms.

"Oh, not a monster?" Babycorn wondered, poking the not-monster with the toe of her boot. "...Do you think it's edible?"

Moments later Lunya rounded the corner carrying a tower of cardboard boxes taller than Vertical Height herself, which she promptly dropped upon seeing Babycorn about to take a bite out of some stinky and unconscious stranger. She started caterwauling, sprinting towards them at an impressive speed for a girl wearing stiletto boots on wet grass for some reason.

"BABYCORN CORN," Lunya howled, shaking a fist in the air, "PUT THAT THING DOWN, YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT'S BEEN!"

"Party pooper," muttered Babycorn, blowing her bangs out of her eyes as she dropped the arm of what upon closer look was a sopping wet catman. No, not the Miqo'te kind, but a larger, fuzzier variety.

Lunya came to a screeching stop next to them. The mudcatthing was snoring away, blowing bubbles into the mud in a way that would have been comical if it wasn't ruining some perfectly good food. She grimaced at its filthy appearance and the bizarre smell radiating off him. "What's a Hrothgar doing in our yard? And why does he smell like he dove through a fish market's post-closing garbage processing center?!"

"Beats me," huffed Babycorn, already uninterested since she wasn't allowed to eat the guy.

"He doesn't seem injured," Lunya said contemplatively. "Just… stinky." With a whirl of her pointer finger a hose came flying around the corner of the house followed by bottles of dog shampoo and conditioner. "If he has to lie unconscious in our yard he should at least have the decency to smell nice while doing it."

Babycorn hissed at the hose as it passed by, which Lunya thought was a nice bit of character development from the last time she had to bring the hose out and Babycorn tried to bite it. Setting the nozzle to 'angle', Lunya hit the Hrothgar with a blast of water.

"BWHHHHBWHWHBBRHHBWHWW," the Hrothgar spat, sitting upright in confusion as he was assaulted with each of the settings on Lunya's latest beloved acquisition from the Gridanian garden centre while she looked for the best one.

"Oh, you're alive!" Lunya said cheerily. "Cherry, do you wanna soap him up?"

"Sop, sop!" Cherry agreed. Or maybe he was saying soup. That was a bit more concerning. Either way, he took one of the floating bottles of dog shampoo and handed it to Babycorn, who uncapped it, handed it back to him, and took four steps back. There was no way she was going to get forcibly given a bath today, no sir!

Cherry promptly dumped half the bottle onto the Hrothgar's knee.

"Would you mind getting out of the mud for me?" Lunya asked the Hrothgar, who was only getting increasingly more confused by this bizarre turn of events. "It's kind of making the whole point of this moot."

"Uh, okay?" the Hrothgar said, and he got up and walked over to a clean patch of grass dripping dog shampoo and mud and water with Lunya and Cherrypit following behind.

"So, what's your story?" Lunya asked conversationally as she rinsed him down and revealed he was, in fact, really a Hrothgar. "Got drunk at the Mirror Planks and fell overboard and washed up here? Alcohol abuse is bad, you know. You got a name?"

"Ba!" echoed Cherry.

The Hrothgar stammered. "H… H… Something with an H…Hem… Him…?"

"Bo," Cherry said with a satisfied nod.

"Himbo?" Lunya wrinkled her nose. "Weird name. I mean, I guess we have a Vertical and a B'ig and a Babycorn, so it's not really that weird in the grand scheme of things—"

"My name is not weird!" Babycorn cried, stomping her boot in the mud and splashing more of it up her leg. "Your name is weird!"

"And you're getting a bath next," Lunya threatened, turning and pointing the hose at her. Babycorn screamed.

"I don't, um, really remember anything," 'Himbo' admitted over Babycorn's furious shrieks that no, no, no, you can't clean me! Na na na na na! I hope you trip and slide on a soap bar!!! "Who I am or where I came from or, uh, why I'm being given a bath. I just know that I'm hungry."

"Well, we can fix that last part, at least," said Lunya. "You wouldn't be the first amnesiac we've taken into our fold. How do burgers sound?"

"What's a burger?"

"Lunya," Babycorn gritted out from behind the tree she was now hiding behind, "this is dire."

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #oc: lunya #babycorn #cherrypit #himbo hooters #tales from the warriors of light #too much serious fic. we need shitposts.

[pansexualbadude]

Aftermath of YKW 1 || or, How to Redeem a Dead Chairman

The last thing he could clearly remember was his own scream.

❂❂❂

Blindingly white petals fluttered around as the scene unfolded, attacks flying from either side of the battlefield. Almost all of Mt. Wildwood had been turned white; a forest of faded leaves. A small clearing, near the back, held a large tree home to the Yokai Elevator. The only thing standing between him and the ultimate domination of the human world was a 12-year-old kid and his yokai friends.

Baddinyan and Bruff were in the front getting heavy hits in against the yokai chairman, with the former also inspiriting from time to time. Baddinyan ducked as a tentacle went piercing overhead, managing to get a few slashes in on it in the process. Blandon was busy concealing the healer, Pinkiepoo, while the second-mentioned kept everyone at a reasonable health. In the meantime, Katie was busy purifying the two negatively inspirited; Bloominoko and Leadoni. McKraken sent out beams up from the ground which the party managed to narrowly dodged, ignoring the groans about a singed pompadour coming from the front row. After successfully purifying the snake and oni yokai, Katie handed a spirit talisman to Pinkiepoo before seeing them off. Leadoni and Bruff exchanged knowing glances.

The blue Oni raced over to the right of the chairman and stuck his tongue out at him.

“Hey! Look this way!” He shrieked over the pandemonium of the battlefield.

This caught the attention of the former chairman. He let out an ear piercingly loud laugh before turning to the little oni and sending a beam his way. Leadoni narrowly dodged it, feeling the energy barely miss his ear. He hardly had time to recover before having to dodge another two attacks.Concurrently, Bruff was behind McKraken and while he was distracted, slammed the spiked bat into his side. The squid-like beast roared in pain before finally going down.

“...I think he’s beat!” Bruff shouted to the others across the clearing.

Several cheers rang out, some louder than others. They all regrouped where Katie was to exchange congratulations, mini-celebrate, and general check up; making sure to stay a considerable distance away from the chairman’s body.

“Is everyone okay? Nobody badly hurt?” Katie asked, still a tad shaken up.

The group looked around at each other before Baddinyan spoke up, “Nyothin’ major as far as I can see, nyan. But,”

he turned to look at Bruff, speaking a little quieter. “At some point it looked like you got hit in the back, when he was sendin’ out the tentacles?”

“Eh, doesn’t feel like anythin’s wrong for now. Howzabout you two?” He said looking at Katie and Whisper.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll stop seeing him in my nightmares anytime soon, but other than that, I’m pretty good!” The former replied.Just as she finished speaking, the group felt something move the ground.

Katie turned around to see McKraken propped up on one leg, still appearing dazed.

“I don’t believe it…How could I possquidly lose?” He spoke, muddled and distressed, “What a calamity!”

Whisper came forwards from beside Katie, “Oh, please… Are you quite through?” “Let’s all experience your demise with a little bit of self-respect. As a butler, I am quite proud of all of us! Our cooperation was steller!”

“Well said! We did pretty great, doki!” Pinkiepoo chimed in.

“It’s like Lord Enma always said: The human world needs our friendship, not our control.”The yokai butler looked around at the motley crew.

“To witness the strength of friendship is both inspiring and humbling.”

“Whisper…that’s beautiful!” Katie said.“GRAAAAAAGH!” And with one last howl, as if on cue, McKraken’s body disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke. Katie yelled out a ‘woohoo!’ and was followed not long after by the others, cheering or just generally feeling proud.

“We did it! I’m so glad that’s finally over!”

“As am I. However, this isn’t over yet. There’s still the issue of his followers, and I’ve a feeling he won’t stay down forever.” Whisper floated past the chairman, closer to the yokai elevator.

With a sigh, he said:“If we’re going to finish this, we’ll need to seal this. Possibly permanently.”

There wasn’t but a beat of silence before the eventual collective response.

“What?!”

There was a variety of mixed reactions among the crowd; some confused, some understanding, and some…not so much.

Bruff stepped closer to the floating yokai, “That’s bull-”

“-woah, okay we are not finishing that, doki. But I agree, can you think of any other way we could solve this, Whisper?” Pinkiepoo asked, holding a hand out in front of Bruff in a futile attempt to cease his advancement. It was working surprisingly well.

“I wish that was the case. If McKraken was able to undo the seals the last few times, what is to stop him from trying again?”

“We’ll stop him. What was the point of all this if youse was gonna give him what he wants, anyways,” Bruff grumbled through gritted teeth.

Katie turned to Whisper, pleadingly,“Yeah! I can’t see you all leave again! These past two months have been some of the funnest in my life!”

“U-um, if this counts for anything, It’d do a better job of keeping people…everywhere safe if we were to…s-seal it versus trying to stop it e-every week,” Blandon added, “and we’ll have time to say goodbye this way.”

Bloominoko wailed dejectedly, “Noko noko! Ko… (It’s not fair! One bad yokai spoiled it for all of us…)”

“The yokai world is still in chaos, even though he’s gone. There are still a great deal of his followers who would want nothing more than to harness that power and take it to the human realm. The only way to stop that is to close the elevator.” Whisper reasoned.

“I…really hate to admit this, even to the marshmallow, but he’s got a point. If we go, we can at least make sure those goons aren’t able to come back,” Baddinyan agreed. Despite this and how much it makes sense logically, he knew it didn’t stop it from hurting like hell.

“Blegh, this is getting nowhere! How about a vote?” Leadoni suggests, standing on a high rock by the tree.

“I’ll keep score; me included of course! Ready?”

“I guess…”

“Sure! All’s fair in a show of hands.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Okay! Those for the elevator being sealed, bring a thumbs up! Those against, thumbs down.”

It was a pretty obvious vote with Whisper, Baddinyan, Blandon, Pinkiepoo, and (hesitantly) Bloominoko for it, Bruff, Katie, and Leadoni against it.

“Well, I guess that’s only fair…” Katie smiled sadly.

They all circled around the tree to watch Whisper seal the elevator.

“It’s now time to perform my final duty as your butler.” Whisper floated over to the door and pulled out a talisman.

He recited some sort of hymn before slapping the talisman onto the closed doors.

“This elevator is now closed for business!”

The structure started glowing as blue light rings with symbols on them started floating around it. They all got the feeling this was going to be goodbye.

“Well, it was nice knowing you, Katie!” Bloominoko says.

“I’m always going to miss having the best luck on the candy lottery, plus, who’s gonna play uno with me now?” Katie laughed with Bloominoko as he dissipated into light.

“Leadoni, try not to get any more children lost. High five?”

“No promises!” He reached up with his big hand and just as they made contact, he too vanished. Katie briskly walked over to Blandon; the yokai in question looked as if he would shrink into himself if he could.

She smiled as she approached him, hands behind her back, “Don’t think I forgot you! I’ll always remember our sword training together.”

“I don’t want to leave, you actually notice when I’m i-in a room…” Blandon said sorrowfully.

“We’ll always have our memories, and I’ll never forget you.”

She could’ve swore she felt her eyes start to sting this time. He disappeared with the wind, as if he was never there. Pinkiepoo stalked over and tapped her on the shoulder with his staff.

“Hey~! We’re gonna miss you over there. Try not to be too sad about it, okay?”

“Sniff, if you say so, Pinkie. Make sure to say hi to Enma for me!” She asked, choked up.

Pinkiepoo nodded, and both human and yokai teared up as he faded away. Katie walked over to the next two she would bid farewell to. Baddinyan was standing looking cool as ever, and Bruff right beside him; arms crossed over a purple and black jacket. She felt tears form in her eyes as she tried to smile at the two. Bruff furrowed his brow and kneeled down a little to face her.

“Hey, what’s the matter? You ain’t going soft on us now, are ya?” He gave her a pat on the shoulder.

“Hehe, maybe. Truthfully…you two were always like siblings to me…I can’t believe you all are leaving.”

Baddinyan gave a low sigh, “Hey man, we’ll see each other some other time, yeah? We’ll talk nyext time,'' the cat gave her a pat on the back, “this ain’t gonna be goodbye yet, nyan.”

“Yeah kid, who else ‘round here is gonna tease you endlessly? All ‘at aside, We really are gonna miss you, punk.” Bruff wiped at something under his shades, he must have gotten something in his eye.

Katie swiftly pulled them in for a hug, which was reciprocated once the shock wore off. It was almost as if she could still feel them as their spirits dispersed. Hearing the familiar sound of shifting in the air, she knew Whisper was nearby. Her butler—she would even go as far as to call him a friend—since the beginning. The one who allowed her to make such wonderful new friends. The yokai who gave her the watch and stuck by her side (most of the time; Nocturn was a one time thing, promise). She didn’t even know where to begin. Thank him, apologise, in the end, she opted for a bittersweet grin.

“You’re the best yokai butler in the world, I’m glad you bugged me to take the watch.”

“Hey! You practically begged for me to come with you; my charm is irresistible.”

“Sure, sure, believe what you want,” she jested, “I hope we meet again someday. It’s hard to picture a future without you all.”

“Likewise. No matter what, I’m sure you’ll do fine without me. You’ve proven more than capable,” Whisper gave a deep bow. He closed his eyes as he said, “my time as your butler has come to an end.”

And with that, he too faded to nothing but a distant memory. This time, there was nothing stopping the tears falling from her eyes. She looked up into the clouds and allowed herself a final moment of despair for her friends.

“I’ll never forget you guys.”

~End of chapter one~

#yokai watch #Badude #Baddinyan #Pinkipoo #Bloominoko #Leadoni #whisper yokai watch #fanfiction #Katie Forrester #Ok now with tags outta the way- #AGH. YOU DONT KNOW HOW SCARED I WAS TO POST THIS. #I have been wracking my brain on whether or not I should #And eventually I came to the conclusion: why not? #Maybe someone out there will like it TwT

[jaladwolf]

✨Silly Pete’s Gang tickle headcanons!💫

Alright, here we go! I’ve actually wanted to do these guys for a long time now, so yeah.

🩶Ler!Pete:

Oh boy…

This man. is one. MEAN Ler

Like, this dude will tease you to pieces.

“What’s the matter, bud? Why the nervous look? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

It also doesn’t help that he’s rather tall because if you’re like short, then he will definitely pick you up.

Ugh, his voice. He acts so. COCKY. He’s real prideful about it too.

”I’m sorry, what was that you just said? I don’t speak giggle kiddo. You’re gonna have to repeat yourself.”

Feathers, paint tools, electric toothbrushes, you name it. He’ll use it.

He’ll baby talk you just to be an asshat.

His main target is Finn, obviously.

🩶Lee!Pete:

Denies it almost every time

”What? M-me? T-ticklish? Absolutely not! Why would you assume that?!”

His worst spot is his hips. Second worst being his ears and tail.

His laughter is a mixture of snickering and cackles.

If you’re able to get him right, you’ll actually get him to snort.

One thing’s for sure, he cannot take what he dishes out.

He claims to not like being teased, but in reality he actually does.

Tickling him is actually something Dottie does to keep his ego in check. He’s all top dog one minute and the next he’s an absolute mess of laughter.

“You tell anyone about this and you’re dead. Got it?”

💙Lee!Dottie:

She. is. SO CUTE!

Like seriously, I could listen to her giggle and laugh for hours.

Her worst spot is his stomach. Sends her into a squealing fit every time.

Second worst spot? Her thighs

Feather sensitive

Doesn’t really try to push the person away

Teases turn her into a blushing mess

Just like Finn, she’s also a target of Pete’s tickle attacks.

💙Ler!Dottie:

Oh she is just the sweetest.

She won’t tease someone unless they’re someone close to her.

”Oh? What was that? Sorry, you’re laughing so hard that I’m having trouble understanding you.”

She usually just compliments them

”Aww, aren’t you the just the cutest thing?”

Sometimes she’ll use feathers or makeup brushes.

Cuddles afterward

🧡Lee!Finn:

Nervous giggling

Will attempt to run away and fail

Like Dottie, his worst spot is his belly with his second worst being his paws.

His laughter is a combination of chuckles and squeaks

If you’re able to, you can actually get him to howl.

Teasing makes him so flustered it’s downright adorable.

He’s the target of tickle fights WAY too often.

His ears are absolutely a giggle spot

Pete usually tickled him just to be mean, but Dottie did it to cheer him up.

🧡Ler!Finn:

Despite him being on the receiving end on several occasions, he’s actually a pretty decent ler.

He’s very gentle because he’s scared of hurting them

Teasing isn’t really something he does often. Unless you’re okay with it, he won’t do it.

Will giggle along with you

He sometimes tickles people to lift their spirits

Will ask if you’re okay afterwards

If he’s able to muster up the courage, he will absolutely do revenge tickles.

And finally done! Sorry if this took a while, I was caught up with a lot. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

DNI IF N$FW/F3T!SH!

#ask goldie anything #fnaf tickles #tickle hcs #grawolfquinn