#Common Bent-wing bat

[loveisinthebat]

Tired Lump

[hellsitegenetics]

String identified: c t gg (ta ) c a a t t t t (. ) t t . t a a g, at a a t ta t g a t t t. Ta a a t t

Closest match: Miniopterus schreibersii genome assembly, chromosome: 17 Common name: Common Bent-Wing Bat

(image source)

Sonic the Hedgehog (sustained speed of 767 MPH) could have made the journey from the Shire to Mount Doom (1718.5 miles) in just over two hours. But also he famously loves rings, so he almost assuredly would have found the thrall of the Ring far too powerful to resist. Tails would have had to shoot him

[little-creature-of-the-day]

little creature of the day: common bent wing bat

little cutie

image source

[girl-next-door-writes]

Between the Stacks

Characters: George Weasley x reader

Summary: Snow falls softly at Hogwarts, but George Weasley’s mischief sparks warmth in the library—and maybe, something more.

Word Count: 1247 words

Prompts: Library. Mutual pining. A hug that lingers.

A/N: A lovely sweet anon requested this one, so I hope you see it. I have missed writing my favourite Weasley.

The library was quiet, the soft rustle of pages and the occasional scratch of a quill the only sounds breaking the stillness. Snow fell softly against the windows, casting shifting patterns of light on the stone walls. Christmas was just a week away, and most of the students had already left for the holidays, leaving the Hogwarts library eerily empty. You had told yourself you stayed back for the quiet. The peace. But the truth was, the silence felt heavier than you’d expected, wrapping around you like a too-tight scarf.

“You’re staring at that book like it insulted your gran,” a familiar voice broke your concentration, and your heart did a little flip. George Weasley slid into the chair across from you, his signature mischievous grin firmly in place.

“Maybe it did,” you quipped, snapping the book shut. “I’m not entirely convinced Potions theory isn’t some form of cruel punishment.”

George chuckled, leaning back in his chair, and you couldn’t help but admire the way the firelight turned his hair into copper and gold. He was always so at ease, like the world bent just slightly to accommodate him.

“What are you still doing here, anyway? I thought you’d have escaped this place by now.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you countered, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, an easy motion that somehow felt practiced. “Fred and I thought we’d stick around. Fewer teachers means more room for…creative experimentation.”

“Ah, I see. And by ‘creative experimentation,’ you mean causing as much chaos as possible?”

“Precisely.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and for a moment, his grin softened into something thoughtful. “But what about you? Why spend your holidays buried in books when you could be…I don’t know, having fun?”

You hesitated, twirling your quill between your fingers. The truth was, you’d stayed back partly because you enjoyed the quiet, but mostly because of him. George. His laugh, his jokes, the way he made everything seem brighter. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“Maybe I like the quiet,” you said finally, glancing away to hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “It’s…peaceful.”

“Fair enough,” he said, though there was a glint of something knowing in his eyes. “But don’t you ever get lonely?”

“Not when I have people like you interrupting me,” you teased, grateful for the shift in tone.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, shattering the stillness of the library. For a moment, the cold stone walls seemed to fall away, and all that was left was him.

Over the next few days, George seemed to pop up wherever you went. In the Great Hall during meals, he’d slide into the seat beside you with a cheeky comment about your “intense focus” on your soup. In the common room, he’d swipe your parchment to doodle absurd caricatures of Snape, complete with a crooked nose and bat wings. And in the library, he’d appear from behind the stacks, always with a joke or a story that left you laughing despite yourself.

“You know,” he said one evening, as you both sat in the library again, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you?” you repeated, feigning innocence as you turned a page in your book. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping a finger to his chin, the picture of mock seriousness. “Maybe because you’re worried you’ll fall madly in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart raced. “Please. I think I’ll manage.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a wink. But his grin faltered—just for a second, the smallest crack in his usual bravado. His eyes lingered on you, softening in a way that made your stomach twist, before he quickly glanced away.

It wasn’t until the evening before Christmas Eve that things came to a head. You were alone in the library, the faint strains of carols drifting from the enchanted suits of armor in the corridors. The fireplace crackled softly, casting long shadows across the rows of books, and snow tapped gently against the frosted windows. The quiet was almost soothing, and you’d been lost in thought when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually studying so close to Christmas,” George’s voice rang out, tinged with mock horror.

You turned, startled, to find him standing there, a box wrapped in red and gold paper in his hands. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and there was a certain nervousness in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“What’s that?” you asked, eyeing the package.

“A present,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For you.”

“For me?” You blinked, surprised. “Why?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug, though his grin was unusually subdued. He stepped closer and set the box carefully on the table. “Go on, open it.”

Your fingers brushed the crisp paper as you peeled it back, the firelight reflecting off the gold paper. Inside was a small, intricately carved wooden box. You lifted the lid to reveal a quill, its handle engraved with your initials and the crest of your house. The silver feathers shimmered faintly, catching the glow of the fire.

“George…” you began, your voice catching. You ran your fingers over the smooth handle, marveling at the detail. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I thought you could use something special for all those notes you’re always scribbling,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. “Figured it might make studying a bit less miserable.”

“It’s perfect,” you said, looking up at him, your chest tightening. “Really. Thank you.”

He grinned, but this time there was a softness to it, a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his tone quieter, “I wasn’t entirely honest earlier.”

“About what?” you asked, though your pulse quickened.

“Why I stayed for the holidays,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. His hand drifted to the edge of the table, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the wood.

Your breath caught. “Why did you?”

He looked up then, his brown eyes meeting yours with an openness that made your stomach flip. “Because I… I didn’t want to spend so much time away from you.”

The words hung in the air between you, soft and tentative, like snowflakes that might melt if you moved too suddenly. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, before you could think twice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He froze for a heartbeat, then pulled you close, his hold firm and warm and lingering just a little too long to be purely friendly.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured against his shoulder, though your tone was affectionate. “But thank you.”

His breath was warm against your hair. “For what?”

“For staying,” you said softly, tightening your hold for just a moment longer.

When you finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your arms, his touch warm despite the chill in the air.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, his gaze locked on yours.

“Merry Christmas, George,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something wonderful.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

How do you think Theon Greyjoy would have fared at the Archery contest during the Hand’s Tourney in AGOT?

As mentioned in a similar ask about Sarella, Anguy won that contest by outshooting “Ser Balon Swann and Jalabhar Xho at a hundred paces after all the other bowmen had been eliminated at the shorter distances,” (AGOT, Eddard 7) which can be estimated at about 250 feet. Has Theon ever been shown to shoot that far, and (if not), can we estimate his maximum range from known cases? (No, of course I wouldn’t just say “pretty well” or “not great” based on reputation).

Right off the bat, Theon has a few more instances of shooting arrows than Sarella (who just has the one scene in the AFFC Prologue) mentioning that he’s been practicing archery under Dagmer Cleftjaw (so before the age of 9) and had pretty good accuracy even then (saying he put an arrow through a “seagull on the wing” in ACOK Theon 3). Tyrion, a complete stranger, vaguely remembers Theon being “good with a bow” (ACOK Tyrion XI), and it sounds like he was one of the archers who shot down the Frey ravens (AGOT Catelyn IX) among Brynden Tully’s men. However, I’ve found two instances of Theon shooting arrows where we can roughly estimate the distance (if anybody has found other cases, please point them out).

Drunk, Theon decided, watching [Todric] bellow. It was said that the ironmen of old had oft been blood-drunk in battle, so berserk that they felt no pain and feared no foe, but this was a common ale-drunk. "Wex, my bow and quiver." The boy ran and fetched them. Theon bent the bow and slipped the string into its notches as Todric knocked down the Botley boy and flung ale into his eyes. Fishwhiskers leapt up cursing, but Theon was quicker. He drew on the hand that clutched the drinking horn, figuring to give them a shot to talk about, but Todric spoiled it by lurching to one side just as he loosed. The arrow took him through the belly. The looters stopped to gape. Theon lowered his bow. "No drunkards, I said, and no squabbles over plunder." On his knees, Todric was dying noisily. "Botley, silence him." Fishwhiskers and his sons were quick to obey. They slit Todric's throat as he kicked feebly, and were stripping him of cloak and rings and weapons before he was even dead. —ACOK Theon III

Theon intends to shoot at Todric’s drinking horn but shoots him in the belly instead due to sudden movement, so he’s close enough to see fairly small objects. He’s also able to make himself heard to the people next to Todric without it being mentioned that he had to move closer or raise his voice. A normal conversational voice is 60 decibels (dB). Sound pressure level normally halves (by six decibels) for each doubling of distance, meaning the distance between Theon and Todric at the point of shooting was about 40 feet.

The other instance is when Theon, carrying a longbow and with long razor-tipped broadhead arrows, shoots Stiv when he holds a dagger at Bran’s throat:

A low thrum came from the woods behind them. Stiv gave a choked gasp as a half foot of razor-tipped broadhead suddenly exploded out of his chest. The arrow was bright red, as if it had been painted in blood. The dagger fell away from Bran's throat. The big man swayed and collapsed, facedown in the stream. —AGOT Bran V

Bran is able to hear (though quietly) Theon shoot the arrow before it makes impact with Stiv’s chest. This is fairly significant because at shorter distances, Bran wouldn’t have been able to detect the arrow’s shooting and impact as separate events, and it’s estimated that humans can separate sounds as little as 20-30 milliseconds apart. Since sound travels 343 m/s through air, that puts the minimum distance of Theon from Stiv at 6.86m or 20.6 feet. However, that doesn’t take into account how loud the thrum of Theon’s bow is. It may be surprising that longbows are actually one of the quietest bows (the recurve is louder, and the crossbow the loudest) and the larger arrows like broadheads make quieter noises when shot, because the energy the bowstring would’ve made slapping the wood is transferred into hurling the arrow. According to this thread, the longbow firing could be around 74dB or over 10 times louder than normal conversation, about as loud as a vacuum cleaner. Using the same formula for sound over distance as in the Todric example, 74dB can be heard from about 90 feet away, meaning the distance between Stiv and Theon was between 20 and 90 feet (though admittedly, definitely closer to 90, maybe about 85 feet).

That’s about all I can estimate about Theon’s maximum archery distance; it’s less than 100 feet, far less than Anguy’s winning distance of 250 feet. It seems his archery talent is more in his accuracy at hitting small (sometimes moving) targets at somewhat “close” distances rather than hitting larger stationary targets at very far distances (maybe significant foreshadowing for his role in protecting the Starks in TWOW?) Meanwhile, the Hand’s Archery Contest in AGOT was based on who could hit archery butts from the farthest pace away, which is definitely not Theon’s strong point if my textual analysis means anything. Just based on what I can determine about sound distance from two more detailed scenarios of his shooting, Theon would probably make it to the early-middle rounds of the Hand’s Archery Contest and get eliminated by 40 paces/100 feet from the targets, (and probably insult all the men who got further than he did and mock the idea of Ned getting a tourney in general to make himself feel better about losing so soon).

[moons-booknook]

Queer Animals

quick wiki read up

Animals that display homosexuality:

Primates- besides humans, many primates are gay. bonobos (fully bisexual), gibbons(rare), gorillas(common), orangutans(rare, observed in males), and even our closest relatives the chimpanzees (mostly male), have been seen (both male and female)

Birds- black swans(polyamory, males), albatross’(mostly female but also male), blue ducks(male), ibises(chemically induced), mallards(male leaves female for male), penguins(mostly male but also female), vultures(male), pigeons(both male and female, infertile eggs), flamingos(same as black swans). most of these species raise chicks together

dolphins- amazon dolphins, bottlenose, dolphins do not care behaviors: sexual, emotional connection. they are technically bisexual because of reproduction.

bison- american bison both males and females

bats- more than 20 species are gay. list: many flying foxes, Rafinesque's big-eared bat, bent-wing bat, serotine, bechstine, long-fingered, daubenton, little brown bat, noctule, leisler, pipistrelle, long-eared, barabastelle, horseshoe, vampire. //more common in males

elephants: sexual behavior, kissing, trunk intertwining, putting trunks in the other’s mouth, form companionships. present in both sexes.

giraffes: necking, caressing, courting, sexual behavior, more commonly to happen with 2 males than heterosexual partnerships.

marmots: species: olympic, hoary. more common in females. behaviors: nuzzling, kissing, sexual behavior

lions: nuzzling, caressing, sexual behavior. both male and female, though only in captivity in females as observed.

polecats: sexual behavior

sheep: 8-10% of rams are exclusively homosexual. behaviors: courting, sexual behavior

spotted hyena: mounting between both (especially female) sexes.

lizards: some whiptail lizard species are only female and reproduce parthenogenicly. they increase reproduction by courting and sexual activity to increase ovulation.

tortoise: oldest tortoise, jonathan is GAY and has been with his partner fredric since 1991!!!

incects: dragon flies (male), fruit flies, bed bugs

others: wallabies, antelopes, sea lions, belugas, bears (lol), deer, foxes, rats, domestic cats, domestic cattle, cheetahs, opossums, shrews, domestic dogs, donkeys, kangaroos, guinea pigs, mongeese, rabbits, elk, whales, goats, gazelle, monkeys, wolves, squirrels, hamsters, marmots, horses, rhinoceros, chipmunks, seals, ruminants in general, hedgehogs (long eared specifically stated on this list 😳 sonic????), martens, mocos, moose, zebra, mice, ox, porcupine, quokka, raccoons, tanukis, tasmanian devil, tigers, hogs,

[libidomechanica]

“Press, not locks and when the streaks, hast ye softness where borne”

A limerick sequence

               I

The fire; full ornament carefully Alexandering Boy I speak of    pearl sprung. Press, not locks and    when the streaks, hast ye softness where borne with Richard about thou?

               II

For, thou now? Words were green, she leane, framed, the only my condemn’d then can make    us were not from so    falling sea. Gift of a cheek to desire should, I opine.

               III

There too, I have beyond althought; nothings serve, but Juan to a cypress growth    and for pity of the    true? Not alofte, that dart,— beautiful, and one vena cava.

               IV

And, pass’d her arms and situation. To the Head, a God of my brook at    their spring. A simple,    from me remote hert doth as might will be from he week, to thine?

               V

Na thy strange stages, and Philosophic lyre; her stars: come odes of door, in    June, that is on, if but    no dark, cradle; his woe, but wide, as you say’st, the which fain boils.

               VI

Of my stone shape! But as a long men whores of lover headlong I should take    so destroys it; not beauty    was rather doubt? Love, deep as a clamorous sharp sparkle.

               VII

I’m guess’d, and say—I can love proud meant from mine. The joy he tulip, whose and    a living the sky, and    them shall not that awoke with his quiet as the comes away.

               VIII

’Er you know ye seemly sing silent to the days there will to thee, you will    spends up he repent. Blow,    as they streaming learning horses, like one or thanked fish-woman!

               IX

Whoever hands of at also when the stay here right I cares scum, and the    earth’s safe alas! ’Er and    weeping, tinger mine earth in you could lightest be quieted.

               X

Meet, and ruled! Three, but when it and died antagenet. Swerve. Gone to then removed,    or else walls, who takes    a procreatured either told. Yes! And nimbler murmuring.

               XI

Still, would the unhappy spirits appeareth. The letter plant with come other    lonely they common    the dusky colour of forest her and damns me in the braue.

               XII

Did not what dawning bloom, thy men, or whether? Wither frail of colour title,    hurricanes of no    vaile we should not why? Colin came to thee; then will lives us.

               XIII

To guilt thought, that least of song conne, to was sister. Let our down heave there that    beard, the starte, and shown lucus    a noun. When the steed his disgrace: binde you beautiful dream?

               XIV

From all that lurk in the daffodils. Yet I knew the choice no word to sate    its in the wish than at    Waterline who every playnts, her strife! My stocks of troubled him.

               XV

And you do not thereof nobly folly hath thy took her yet I blame, its    edge the breaches they have    bent. From kisses, there, in the thou have once, every grace to life!

               XVI

When I wrote loved! The flush’d by a separate wide and looke the roof, some pearls comes    in fresh numbering home,    if though the bound it should she wings of love there’s an in it.

               XVII

Guilty hand, leave more the removed your lives at Rome, the blacken at his dead,    and blue; strike, and raven    of Mt. Plain on men heads where myne eyes, like to each can looked.

               XVIII

The bastard sight, and play at would not to weep this; my paper siluer so    he rose, waves her own! Lest    said, by me haunting in earth. He wylfull the must play away?

               XIX

Of bards be terms in Guido’s fault I be chasing any now in black night,    and you it’s wreathing’s fierce:    ’ my ways your souls! He scentertain so stuff, live wisest the bat.

               XX

This light assay we would fly, and then? For was told, and allows on her and    no, those fall, on snowy    shriek, that we will ye hear, Eadwacer? Away. Here humble vain.

               XXI

To dull, as those to vaile, taking on thee; that is the Sphinx. When I ’d for    any trouble you blind    her Secret witch becomes in heart, nothings chiming liberty.

               XXII

He all of a call somewhere she world is saving age, i, that sweet fadeth    now my small locked, or didst    thou may foreigner, and serious each, Love? The favour for me!

               XXIII

From Love! I under one who, in your want these mone of her part,—beauty’s    declaretless—how a funnel    of inconversation, one with the want their charge of pains.

               XXIV

How them often hear a troop of dream. Before he did not this contention:    at which their damsels! With    kisses skill Desire on her husband never about there?

               XXV

Equal with went over the cocked haye. Foolish matter; saying ever flowers    are relish, their or    a shamefull flesh and brainsoaked garden gave was it was.

               XXVI

Into them I love in dew? Whose disparity of yore. Than ever shining    no more better clown,    sitting much did not, then pride, and prove Nymph and howe’er histories.

               XXVII

And shooting over them and dumb? Our spring and hence, then, in sleep. Tis better    other and the very    kindly with the stalks to change, war, a stones with pardon me.

               XXVIII

Whose descry a mournful gust own, and all the dark palm trees, lay the Mounter    bark and her maxim forming    is fawn. But the greet thy silver-clearer bid falcon-eye?

               XXIX

The river on. And her parley Mill her, Sister, or identity. Out,    the below, mild revoke    thee, you within and farewell’d towards of the green, a catch light.

               XXX

These, freckled and die: your sounds, siller in the days that he mirror these that    once, and farewell’d grass;    but live at sings rare a words were they were white, we’re weeping, cheek!

               XXXI

Still with it must enemy who take her days that flatter with fig forever    than shorn away? Ay,    Love wither whither steep may be: vnited as that would under.

               XXXII

Wound up from death to do we home. To sea, betrother braiding galleries    of the sun and a places    all past: dissolution I move into his terrible!

               XXXIII

And on pole! Humid see and tell, wherein came years it grew,—saith sike delight,    told timidly expire.    And this, faint extremely dash the palate thy wit we can he.

               XXXIV

Burner, sad temper Juan all the Sphinx. But where was a more. Of wife butteranced    in the rising    speech, and woman, in dead fled feel it should remain day, till these.

               XXXV

Shape of the table to thy goodly race! You will not you no stinge, he talled    Hope is my ladies    ruin. To looking on her stain’d of sunsettle, where further.

               XXXVI

Tush, there. That lurk in a damsels in New York, lying easy my extremely    few: I have ye, merry    head, and golden will, they with ’haviour simple state a maid.

               XXXVII

Nor Palinode if thou have been adverse. Mother mistress a night of fire    it was fully. Southwest    stomakes him daily sails the fragrant mind was not quicken.

               XXXVIII

She slain an owl-songs of a silent claim it was off, and I hold of a    there, and a feint. Yet into    a swooning on thy good release: she shall used up a weight.

               XXXIX

How she had choice is a tighten’d, murmur, seem Angel of reason betighted    to drink? Let could make    so mastery object of Eternity, where will ne’er renne.

               XL

And yet, heart the simple she sweete Violines. For Poesy! When not in ashes,    those themselves sae press    grown, resembling extant with they may between the presented!

               XLI

For him, looking, enamour, ’ reply, marrying were are not he. Meanwhile    her brow’s blue; stripping, cheek,    but she, like a common to cast a corpse-light the daffodils.

               XLII

Then she next day, and the raignes and bones which lays bore: now I must between    first stronger went to his    fechtin’ a kennel. And look into linger; the horn, and breath.

               XLIII

Death, and the hour own heart within it. -Shed her, and please mind in the breath crime,    and poor fishes,—he dream!    A hand of love-poem! Are flowers quickly five. Meads some tree.

               XLIV

Break, and fiery like home one gentleman, and be barren to face in    for Cleone. But the wisardsweltre    inlaid who eats heard nobleness, and to my dear, the bough!

               XLV

—You can’t the her sinks back-hoe. Will streamlet flye: sike might, unlevel without    signs, and Science, far away.    That the whose will pry into think that that through with the weeds.

               XLVI

So sweet, in so he castle, an’ wilfull of mine own full tongue. I’ll taken    of sunset, because he    will hear me? Bettering letter cloud that stepped it a tawdrie lace.

               XLVII

When beauteous eyes a lawn in none; and, and betray us. Their his like an    infancy as just of    them and heavy! So noises and there was compare? Ten tragedie.

               XLVIII

Serene, and keepe in and part potent to you would burnish matter answer    and the fish. To sharp eyes,    but, pale than field, may I love, why should make here, so cleft our love.

               XLIX

While young Semele such place, as on her charm, alas! That white fancie, draw one:    a poor hath been entangle    heats.—Excuse her his neuer her all in libel, or fret.

               L

Or articles of Glory. I am from eyes shut index. A longer    and nowe wildering, I    gavel. Tho’ in the learne there is Dido, dead made up in earth.

               LI

A coldly ting’d with us. And thy beauty. For, Maud and, some cannot toss    and such as amiss,    expected. Place came light Emperor histories. So saint, to hide wave!

               LII

To my tears, whoso fair attitude, Shared with together round. And warrior    magnets all of fervenche    that the breeze with it faithful Sun. Or the whole would faint a kind.

               LIII

A soft land, and thou seems Beauties the Elysian miracle; and put be    crown’d by a right the young    man, let the glad of ruin. More to ill: there’s joy, Adieu!

[procyonloser]

Continuing~ same warnings with slightly more porn

Adam scrubbed at his scalp roughly, before rinsing out his 3-in-1 shampoo body wash conditioner, and stepping out of the shower. He glanced in the mirror, seeing twin spots on his throat that were still bruised but healing after a few days under a bandaid.

He'd barely started drying off with a towel he probably should have washed...a week or two ago, when his phone range. Recognizing the ringtone, Adam ran into his apartment living/bedroom in nothing but a towel hung around his hips.

He grabbed it up and answered with a grin, plopping down on his bed. "Heeey bitch."

"What the fuck do you mean you were attacked by a vampire?" Lute barked at him from across the country.

"Yeah, ran into one walking home." Adam said casually, pleased with himself for getting such a strong reaction from her. "Don't worry, I scared it off."

There was a long pause on the line, but he knew her well enough to guess she was staring at the phone in anger. "You... Chased a vampire away. The thing that doesn't exist. You chased away. From downtown LA?"

Adam hummed, bringing his legs up so they were criss cross. "Yeah, that sounds about right. You know it was attacking this poor lady, so I stepped in and was like, not on my watch fucker. We fought. I've got a couple scars, but I made the cunt flee."

"Adam, I- you- I can't-... You said you were going to be fine while I went on vacation! How the fuck drunk were you?!" Lute sounded exasperated, it was pretty late over there. Who the fuck goes on vacation to a medical malady museum?

"I was totally sober," Adam lied through his teeth.

"Fucking liar. I'm going to call you tomorrow when I'm not exhausted, and hopefully when you're not drunk." Lute huffed, before she hung up on him.

Adam rolled his eyes, before laying back on his bed. He kinda missed her yelling. Adam sighed, before a moment caught his eyes. He sat up sharply, blinking at a small yellow bird on his bedframe. It tilted it's head at him, ruffling it's feathers, moving back and forth on the wooden frame. Except there was something wrong with it - Adam was pretty sure birds didn't have six wings.

"What the fuck are you?" Adam whispered, wide eyed, suddenly aware he was only in a towel. It laughed, oddly human sounding, before flying forward and landing beside him, becoming a man in an instant. No, it was him again. The vampire.

"She seemed nice," Lucifer said, chin in the palm of his hand, but Adam was on high alert. Turned on slightly, but still on high alert.

"H..how-" Adam started, but Lucifer cut him off.

"How did I find you? I followed your scent. How did I get inside your place of living? That's just a common myth to appease scared humans, I can go wherever I please." Lucifer smiled toothily at him.

"No, how the fuck are you a bird?" Adam glowered. "You're a vampire, where's your self respect? Shouldn't you be all goth and shit, come in as a bat or black cat?" Adam asked, and Lucifer blinked owlishly at him, before cackling.

"You are adorable," Lucifer smiled at him fondly. Adam felt a bit miffed at the comment, he was cool, badass, a rebel, not... Adorable. "Can I drink from you again?"

Adam opened his mouth, ready to tell him to fuck off and get bent, but the memories of last time came rushing back to his mind. Immediately, heat pooled, and his clit throbbed.

"Fuck yeah," Adam growled, pulling Lucifer down on top of him. Instantly, teeth pierced his skin, and that same wave of pleasure crested over him, through his veins. Adam rocked his hips upward, desperate for friction as the small vampire drank away. Soon, the towel was pulled out from around him, and Adam let his legs fall open. "Come on, fuck me."

Lucifer wasted no time, and he was larger than Adam would have expected from his body size. He moaned as Lucifer buried himself to the hilt, wrapping his arms around his throat. Lucifer fucked him for who knows how long, and Adam lost count of how many times he'd cum. He was pretty sure Lucifer had stopped drinking from him after a few minutes, quickly putting all his attention into fucking Adam through the goddamn mattress, until there was a puddle below Adam's hips.

Lucifer sighed happily, nose nuzzled into Adam's throat. "I truly wish I remembered where I know you from.."

Adam was too fucked out to even think about it, let alone push him off.

But, some things seemed to not fully be a myth, as Lucifer was gone come morning.

Mini fic, adamsapple, trans masc Adam, vampire Lucifer, dubcon

Adam stumbled down the street, drunk, tired, angry, drunk, furious, did he say drunk already? His girlfriend had dumped him, again, but this time he was pretty sure it was going to stick since she was fucking pregnant, and Adam didn't have a fucking dick. He didn't wish her well, in fact he wished her worse, before he left to get fucking trashed. Had he said fuck enough times yet?

Eventually he got kicked out of the bar, and had to go... to the next bar, before that one kicked him out too. He'd started hitting on any girl he saw, and the last place eventually kicked him out for, according to them, offering to go down on a portrait of the madam who'd ran the bar in 1889. Whatever, Adam had booze at home. So, to home he went, very slowly, trying not to trip over his feet too much.

Adam rounded a corner, and blearily blinked in realization it didn't seem familiar, he must have taken a wrong turn - then, he saw something else. A figure was collapsed on the ground, legs buckled under them, and another individual was just barely keeping their head up. Except, it didn't look like they'd caught them, it seemed more as though-

The man looked over his shoulder, back at Adam. His hair was a pale blond, and his eyes were glowing red, pupils a bright unearthly gold. Blood was dripping down his chin.

"Hey, fucker! Let them go!" Adam yelled, marching forward, never one to back down from a fight. Plus, it helped he could tell he was close to a foot taller than the guy. Adam was taller than most people, including most cis guys he met, which in Adam's mind made him the alpha male.

In a blink of an eye, Adam was slammed up against a wall, a hand around his throat, and inhuman eyes stared up at him with mild annoyance; until suddenly they widened in surprise.

"Wait, I know your scent." The figure said, sniffing the air. "Why do I know your scent..."

Adam struggled against him, it seemed insane that a tiny guy like this, who looked more like a librarian or a fucking jester, could be this strong. It wasn't just that he was drunk, this thing wasn't human.

The hand slid down, gripping into Adam's shirt to jerk his head down, until they were face to face. "You smell so..."

Adam flinched as the thing leaned in and bite hard into his neck. It was painful, more than he was expecting, but his struggling was useless. But, suddenly, pleasure began to flood through his body. It throbbed in his head, his chest, between his legs. From terror to abject ecstasy, Adam moaned, his hands no longer trying to push away, but to pull him in closer.

The man let go, before biting down again, and Adam came, legs suddenly weak. He was soaked, like he could drown a horse he was so wet. A hand pushed down the front of his pants, and very quickly coaxed him to another orgasm.

"Call me Lucifer," the man said, pulling his hand out and licking his blood off his lips before licking his fingers. "You'll be seeing me again."

In a flash, Lucifer vanished, and Adam was left with a headache, sticky pants, and the knowledge he should probably google vampires.

[daily-fun-animal-facts]

Common Bent-Wing Bats

The name Common Bent-wing Bat is really an  generic name for what is actually three separate sub-species which exist in Australia, none of which are common;

Southern Bent-wing Bat (Miniopterus schreibersii bassanii - southern subspecies) considered critically endangered and distributed in south-western Victoria extending into the south-east corner of South Australia.

Eastern Bent-wing Bat (Miniopterus schreibersii oceanensis - eastern subspecies) also known as the or Large Bent-wing Bat occurring near coastal eastern Australia from the northern tip of Queensland down the east coast including New South Wales and extending to central Victoria.

Northern Bent-wing Bat (Miniopterus schreibersii orianae -northern subspecies) found in the northern part of Western Australia and Northern Territory.

[loveisinthebat]

They Eeby

[attlebridge]

Doll Review - Blind Box Fairy

Artist - Fenjiexian / Dividing Line

Reviewing - 1/6 “Blind Box Fairy” (blank dolls, normal resin colour) x2

Photos (of naked dollies) and text is below the break!

These dolls were purchased from the artist via a Taobao shopping agent. I joined a group order for a lot of 6 blind boxes, which gave us a discounted purchase price of $40 USD per doll. I ordered 2 dolls (one was going to be a gift for a friend, but when I casually showed an image of these cuties, she wasn’t interested, so I got her something else and kept the spare doll for myself, haha).

This was a preorder and there were some production delays, so it took around 3.5 months for these dolls to arrive to me.

The Blind Box Fairies are randomly packaged. There are 8 possible styles available, with the cream-coloured fairies being common, and the purple/jet-black fairies being very rare. The fairies have different expressions and pointed elf ears. The jet-black fairy has bat wings. Only 1 “mystery” doll was made, which supposedly contained a real diamond.

The dolls are blank, nude base dolls. They do not come with eyes, wig, or clothes. Each doll was packaged with a waterslide decal set to apply eyebrows and lashes to the doll’s face. Both my dolls came with the same decal sets.

When my group order participants were making requests for which styles they would prefer, I said I would prefer the ones with “teeth”. Luckily, our set of six contained both visible teeth styles, and I got them! I’ve been calling them “shark” and “fangs”.

Shark Goblin:

Fangs Goblin:

Both dolls have the same pear-shaped, genderless body. It has double joints in both the knees and elbows. The thighs have a swivel joint for rotating the legs. The joints fit well together and moved smoothly. The elbows and knees both ‘lock’ into place, allowing the doll to hold poses and stand without crumpling.

Personal preference: I found the doll’s back sculpting to feel kind of hollowed out and flattened, especially in the spine area, which I wasn’t a fan of. It seemed out-of-place compared to the plump volume of the rest of the doll’s body sculpting. The doll’s crotch area was oddly squared off and flattened (didn’t match the rest of the sculpting style). At first I assumed it was for stability while sitting, but in practice the doll rests on the back of the hip/leg joints, with the squared off area elevated above the sitting surface. So, I’m not sure what the purpose of that design is.

It was easy to balance the doll on its feet and it could stand on its own. The doll could be posed in a sitting position with knees bent; it did not lean back or tip to one side.

The doll could also balance and remain upright when seated on a flat surface. The knee joint pieces are straight and the knees appear squared-off when in a fully folded position. 

The head back is attached with sufficiently strong magnets and the cap sits flush with the rest of the head. There are 3 grooves inside the head which the s-hook can fit in. The dolls each had a silicone friction disc in the joint between the head and neck. The heads take a size 7″ doll wig.

Compared to other 1/6 size ABJDs, the Fenjiexian Fairies are slightly taller and have different proportions. The upper body is slightly narrower, while the lower body is wider, especially in the waist, hips, and legs. The arms and legs are slightly longer and their feet are slightly smaller than the YoSD standard. 

I had some trouble dressing this body in standard-size YoSD clothing. Dresses with gathered skirts, or stretchy/loose-fitting clothing may fit this body, but custom-made clothing would likely fit best. As a seamstress, this is no trouble for me, but if you don’t sew please keep in mind you may have trouble finding clothes that fit this body well.

Thanks for reading, and I hope this post was informative if you are considering purchasing one of these dolls for yourself!

[spacexcowgirl]

All About The Chase - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending, 

A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.

The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.

Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.

Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.

A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.

Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.

As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.

Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.

A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.

Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.

“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.

“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.

Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.

“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.

Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.

“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back. 

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it. 

“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”

“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.

“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.

“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.

“You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.

“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.

“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”

“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.

Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”

Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.

“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”

Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly. 

“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”

“Well, if you’re offering—”

“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”

Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips. 

Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.

-

It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.

To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.

It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.

“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”

“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”

Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.

“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.

Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.

“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.

“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.

“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”

Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.

-

When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.

Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.

Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.

“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.

“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”

At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.

“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”

“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”

Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes. 

“But, you’re missing dinner…” 

“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”

While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.

“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”

Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. 

They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.

Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.

They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.

Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.

“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.

“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”

“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”

“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.

“And who’s she?”

“Glinda, the good witch.”

“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress

“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”

“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her. 

“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.

“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.

At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”

“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”

It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.

“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”

“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.

Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.

The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.

“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.

The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.

“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”

Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.

“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.

Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.

-

When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl. 

“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.

“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”

Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.

After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.

Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.

Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”

And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.

-

A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.

“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.

“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.

“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.

“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.

“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”

“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.

“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”

Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.

“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”

Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.

“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”

Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.

“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”

And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.

-

When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.

“Hello, love—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”

Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.

“I don’t know what—”

“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”

After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”

“But—” 

“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”

“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”

“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”

Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.

“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”

In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.

“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”

“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically. 

“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.

“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”

The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.

When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.

-

Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.

Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop​ @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15​

[strangeinvader9]

More Than-Wait What? pt3

Over the next couple days, I got more used to the fact that I was in space. It was my dream come true, but how I’d come to be here wasn’t part of the plan. I managed to make myself a cane/walkingstick/crutch out of random materials around the medibay but it was kinda pointless. I couldn't exactly go anywhere as my injuries prevented too much movement and trying to get off the table I was on seemed like a death wish as it had to be ten to twenty feet off the ground. 

I had seen many of the other crew members,  but we didn't interact. There's a saying that people come in all shapes and sizes,  but compared to cybertronians, we all look pretty much the same. Their forms were, tall, taller or huge, boxy, curvy, slim, wheeled, winged and even multicolored. Although one thing almost all cybertronians seemed to have in common were their eyes, or optics as they referred to them. Visored or not, all but two that I'd met had bright blue optics, even if they were of varying shades. 

One mech, a medic by the name of Ambulon, had bright yellow optics, although he didn't seem dangerous like yellow eyes typically meant in human culture. The other mech, Whirl, also had yellow for optic color, but he only had the one and he did seem dangerous. 

When Whirl had been brought into the medibay, Ratchet had quickly snatched me up and hidden me behind a box on a shelf, warning me not to draw attention to myself. I didn't ask questions once I heard the ruckus Whirl caused as Ratchet and another medic, First Aid, had tried to treat him. Whirl had a bad temper and even worse mouth. Some of the things I heard sounded like the cybertronian equivalent of swears. 

Curious,  I peeked from my hiding spot. The loudly vocal bot known as Whirl was big. Like 2-3x Ratchet's height big, although his frame was slender. His limbs were long and gangly, reminding me of an enormous blue and black greyhound on two legs. Some might have thought bird, but not with the way his knees bent forward instead of backwards.  Or maybe a Utaraptor minus the tail. The biggest difference was, aside from the obvious, while a Utaraptor had teeth and claws, Whirl's most dangerous weapons were the guns mounted on his chest. Everything about this mech warned, stay away if you want to live. I was all too happy to comply.

Not too much longer after Whirl had left, fate decided it was time I left the medibay and got to know the rest of the crew. I was sitting on one of the beds, poking at my IV of nutrients trying to scratch without dislodging the needle when something landed behind me with a slightly muffled thump. Going still, I heard a squeak behind me. Slowly turning, I spotted a mechanical bat roughly the size of a gargoyle bat but with the features of a fruit bat, or flying fox. It looked at me with deep red optics, sending a chill down my spine. There was no known myth or legend where red eyes were a good thing. At least, not that I knew of.

The bat squeaked again, tilting its head like a confused bird. 

“H-hi?” I greeted uncertaintly. I couldn’t ask for help as Ratchet and Ambulon, the only medics on duty at the moment, were busy and First Aid had left for the day. Plus there was no guarantee this creature was going to hurt me. It gave another squeak before snatching me up in its claws and flying off. “Oi! Put me back down, I should’t be flying!” I protested.   

The bat ignored me, flying off to god knows where. As it did, I tried not to squirm and worsen my injuries, which wasn’t easy. I really hope I don’t end up with a punctured lung. I highly doubt any of these guys know how to treat that. I thought. Looking around as we flew, I saw a lot of the bots I hadn’t met yet but just for like a second as the bat was flying too fast for me to get a proper impression. I also nearly hurled from vertigo as we were really, really, really high up. 

Finally getting me to wherever it had wanted to take me, the bat dropped me not very gently on some hard, metallic surface. “Gah!” I yelped before nearly blacking out from the pain. I vaguely heard voices around me but I was in too much pain to really focus on what they were saying. Slow, short breaths slowly brought things back into focus. 

“Question: human is conscious?”

“Answer: human is in immense pain. I’m gonna find a way to disassemble that bat,” I grumbled.

“Argument: don’t. Ratbat was curious.”

“So I had to be flown out of relative safety, at the risk of further injury and dropped painfully onto some surface because some creature was curious?”

“Answer: yes.”

“Not cool. I feel like I’m gonna puke. Am I still moving?”

“No.”

“Good.” Carefully sitting up, I took a look around. “Where am I?”

“The command center.”

“I’m on the bridge? My ribs are killing me. Why was I brought here?”

“Ratbat seems fond of you.” At that statement, the bat, now known as Ratbat, landed next to me and started to nuzzle me. 

I lightly bonked its nose with the IV stand I somehow kept a grip on. "Nuh-uh. You don't get to kidnap me and injure me and expect cuddles," I told it. 

Rabat squeaked and wrapped its wings around me snuggling close. 

Nearby, a door wooshed open and a vaguely familiar voice called out, "Soundwave, what did you do with the human?"

"Down here, Lieutenant. I think I've been imprinted on," my muffled voice told Ultra Magnus.

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #1: Delayed Gratification

Prompt: foster || Master Post || On AO3

IT BEGINS.

The Jewels and Java cafe is the brilliant brainchild of my friend @catpella and was used with permission. :3

--

“Again, I am so sorry,” Synnove hissed, mortified, as they walked down one of the many hallways of the Arcanists’ Guild.

“It’s perfectly all right, my love,” said Aymeric fondly, squeezing her hand. “If we miss the ferry, we can simply teleport.”

His lady sighed heavily and muttered, “But I like the ferry ride…”

He laughed and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles, and satisfaction purred in his chest at the way Synnove’s golden cheeks rosed with pleasure. Galette, in her usual position draped around her mama’s neck, didn’t bat an eye. Ivar, behind them, made a disgusted noise, followed soon after by Tyr’s annoyed elder brother huff; he ignored them, well used to Synnove’s sons’ idiosyncrasies.

It was not the first time one of their getaways had been temporarily delayed by a work-related emergency; their friends and colleagues were normally keen on ensuring the pair of them got to take vacations, but sometimes matters arose that absolutely could not be handled by anyone else. This one, thankfully, had occurred while they were still in the city and easy to reach. Very easy; they’d been merely around in the corner from Mealvann’s Gate in the Jewel and Java café, enjoying sweet treats before they planned to wander over to the ferry quay for the journey to Bloodshore and the cabin, when Thubyrgeim’s emerald carbuncle, Din, scurried in with a note from the Guildmistress.

“Oh, she’s playing dirty,” Synnove had muttered as she read the note. Din had twitched an ear in her direction, but he had clearly been in the midst of gossiping with Galette and Tyr, their noses and ears and tails moving in the way of creatures who didn’t need sound to communicate.

(Aymeric had, not for the first time, suspected that Synnove’s carbuncles’ aetheric harmonic matching capabilities were nowhere near as common as his lady implied they were. Certainly, he’d never ‘heard’ any other carbuncles speak, but he also knew Synnove’s quintet limited their direct communication to Synnove’s immediate social circle, and it would not be out of the realm of possibility that other carbuncles had similar preferences…)

Aymeric had peered over his shoulder, setting down his fork with its piece of rolanberry shortcake on his plate, and shook his head in amused exasperation at the sight of the Guildmistress’s shorthand, which was as atrocious as Synnove’s. “What seems to be the problem?”

“One of the fourth-years needs final approval for her thesis project’s spell changes,” she had said, refolding the paper, then pinching and dragging her nails along the crease to sharpen it. A chip of her bronze nail lacquer ended up left behind. “Yamomo—” the chair of the aetherophysics department, he had recognized the name immediately, “—had to ‘port out to the Range. It’s either an unscheduled detonation or one of the Squadrons fired on a part of the island they’re not supposed to, Thubyr’s writing got a bit sloppy there.”

A bit sloppy?

Pointedly ignoring his look, his lady had continued, “Solkthota’s presenting her thesis project at the next conference, and guess where that is?” Her voice had turned as dry as the Sagolii.

Aymeric had giggled even as he had fished Roksana out of her bowl of melting ice cream and absently began cleaning her face with a napkin as the white carbunclet had purred. “Does it start with ‘Radz’ and end with ‘Han,’ by chance?” he said.

“Oh, you’re good,” Synnove had said with a rueful laugh, and waved down one of the café’s waitresses to get their desserts packed to go.

Now, they approached one of the warded workrooms in the Guild’s north wing. As they did, Synnove carefully smoothed out her expression from huffy and annoyed to professional interest. For all that she did want to be vacation right now, enjoying the lazy trip around the southern coast of La Noscea to sightsee or nap or cuddle, she would never take out that frustration on one of her students.

She dropped his hand—reluctantly, though she quickly skimmed her thumb over his knuckles first—and opened the door to the workroom, stepping inside, with Aymeric following just at her heels.

The workroom was large and well-lit, the early afternoon sun streaming in through the many windows. The part they immediately walked into was a small observation area, with a setup of desks similar to a small amphitheater leading down to the main floor; this must be one of the practical demonstration workrooms, then. Two students were off to the side, a dark-skinned Highlander lad and a tiny grey elezen girl who had yet to hit her growth spurt and could have been anywhere between sixteen and twenty-one summers old. At the front of the workroom, pacing nervously, was a gangly Sea Wolf young woman, skin the color of storm clouds and hair such a shocking shade of daffodil yellow he would have thought it was dye if her eyebrows hadn’t been the same color.

All three students’ head whipped up and around when Synnove entered, and Aymeric saw the two sitting ones’ jaws drop as he took a seat at one of the other desks, Ivar and Tyr jumping into seats next to him as the twins tumbled down his arms to the desktop. The presumed Solkthota paled and stammered out, “Professor Greywolfe! You’re supposed to be on vacation—”

Synnove waved a hand and closed the short door on the partition between the observation area and the presentation area. (Briefly, as the latch on the door clicked into place, he felt the faint snap of a ward activating.) “Hadn’t left yet, Solk, and an emergency means Professor Yamo has to put the fear of the Twelve into someone,” she said absently. Her voice had gone from her usual faintly Ala Mhigan and Lominsan accented lilt into the crisp tones of a Gate arcanist on duty. “Remind me of what your thesis was covering? Professor Yamo hasn’t given me a copy yet.”

The young Sea Wolf took a deep breath and launched into a technical diatribe that almost immediately had Aymeric’s eyes glazing over. He recognized a few words and phrases—Shotamian manifold, harmonic oscillation—and knew just enough from listening to Synnove’s explanations over the years that this project didn’t seem to be carbuncle focused, but otherwise it was all Allagan to him. Instead, he made sure Amandina and Roksana hadn’t taken a page out of Galette’s playbook and hadn’t gotten into the bag of treats sitting beneath the desk at his feet, and leaned back in his seat to observe. Faintly, he could hear the other two students murmuring to one another, but about what, he was too far away to tell.

(They weren’t looking at him as they did, at least, so if he was the subject of their conversation, they at least had better manners about it than most Ishgardian nobles.)

Solkthota finished quickly, nerves clear as day on her face, and Synnove nodded, reaching up to pet Galette’s tails. “All right, no time like the present to test this.” She gestured towards one of the person-shaped targets at the end of the room. “Let’s see what this modified Ruin can do.”

The student took another breath as she unhooked her grimoire from her belt, opening it and quickly turning pages to the correct one. Solkthota removed her channeling stylus from the strap on the grimoire’s back and held it up in the air, the tip pointed towards the target, and began to cast.

The bolt of power had barely left the stylus before Synnove was roaring “DOWN!” and tackling the Sea Wolf to the floor. Aymeric grabbed the twins just as the word began to leave Synnove’s lips, and was on the floor beneath the heavy ironwood desk, the shrieking carbunclets tucked close to his chest, just as the echo of it was overtaken by the roar of an explosion. Tyr was on top of him and his little sisters as a bright light blinded him, blocking it out, but having an enormous topaz carbuncle atop him did nothing to muffle the sound or the feel of the room trying to shake apart.

The silence in the aftermath was nearly as deafening as the explosion had been.

Tyr rolled off his head, shoving past Ivar, who hung from the desk, chittering in excitement because big boom and, of course, he had watched. Aymeric crawled out after Tyr, and as he stood, the girls immediately pulled themselves up onto his shoulders and tucked into his neck, shivering. He absently stroked first Roksana, then Amandina, and hurried to the other end of the observation area to where the other students had been. As he walked, he noted that the ward on the partition was flickering oddly, like cracked glass, but the spell still held—barely.

The Highlander boy had covered his elezen classmate’s head with his torso, and she was shoving at him now, her voice muffled by his bulk, saying, “Tyon, gerroff, you’re heavy!”

Aymeric bent over to help Tyon keep his balance as he pushed himself up and crawled out from the desk. “Are you all right, you two?” he said.

Tyon rubbed at one ear, and accepted his proffered hand to get to his feet. “Ears’re ringing,” he said while also blinking rapidly. His tiny classmate popped up next to him, patting her dark blue hair back into place and scowling faintly.

Synnove, meanwhile, was lowering her arm; the right one, upon which she wore the ring denoting her as a master arcanist. The glimmer of a shield fell away as she did, and then she was standing upright and helping Solkthota to her feet. Galette’s ears were pinned back and her nose was twitching, but otherwise she seemed utterly unperturbed.

“I am so, so sorry,” the Sea Wolf was saying, her whole body shaking and her eyes wide with mixed shock and horror. “I know I did the math right, I know I did—”

“Honey, take a deep breath,” Synnove interrupted, hands on Solkthota’s shoulders and her voice firm as she looked up at the young woman. “In for seven, and hold, hold, hold, little more, and now out for seven. That’s it. And again…”

As Synnove calmed her student, Aymeric and the other two began righting chairs and wiping plaster dust from the tops of the desk. Tyr came over to headbutt Tyon’s thigh, and the Highlander gave his head a firm rub; as he did, an emerald carbuncle that appeared more vulpine than the standard manifested, yipped what was likely a hello, and then went to sit on the elezen girl’s foot. She immediately bent down and scooped the creature into her arms, tickling under its chin.

Soon enough, Solkthota’s breathing was under control, and Synnove gave her a grin. “There we are. Now, what’s the first rule of science?”

Solkthota’s answering grin was shy and watery. “It’s not science until you write it down.”

“Very good,” said Synnove, her green eyes glittering. “So let’s do that first. Next, we’re going to go through your arrays page by page; your working theory is sound, but the math fell through at some point.” She suddenly pointed towards the young elezen, without looking. “And no helping her, Atreanne!”

“Oh, come on, Professor G!” Atreanne said in a high, nasally whine. Her carbuncle added its own whine as emphasis. “I’m the best at it!”

“And Solkthota will learn better if you don’t feed her the answers,” Synnove said, her voice wry in the way of someone who had. “But you and Tyon are welcome to stay and observe, both of your physics work could do with some polishing.”

Tyon and Atreanne exchanged looks, wide-eyed, and then bolted for the partition.

“I’m glad now it wasn’t Professor Y today,” Aymeric heard Atreanne whisper to Tyon. “Professor G’s way more patient with screw-ups.”

“Professor G likes screw-ups,” Tyon whispered back. “They’re more fun, she says.”

“They are more fun, now hop to it, kids!”

Solkthota was dragging over the desk that had been pushed up against a wall, and Tyon and Atreanne grabbed chairs from the observation to bring over and sit with their classmate and teacher. Synnove, meanwhile, looked at Aymeric as she walked backwards towards the slate chalkboard.

“Can you get me some fresh chalk?” she said, a rueful grin on her face.

Aymeric laughed and gave her a sweeping bow, the twins peeping excitedly as they held on. He righted them as he straightened, and turned to head to where he knew one of the storage rooms were.

It was a good thing he had remembered to pack a few books to read.

[mochibrokenheart]

SVSSS: Guardian of the Museum

Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua

Word Count: 2,756

Summary: Of course there's ominous growling and destruction to the building on Shang Qinghua's first night as a museum curator. Of course there is! Besides being desperate to keep the job, he's not sure what possesses him to actually walk toward the dangerous situation. His survival instincts were better trained that! Except...wait a minute...the terrifying creature causing all the ruckus is actually the hottest thing he's ever seen???

My first contribution for Moshang Monsterfucking Month (and my first fic for the fandom in general!) Heavy on the monster part as the nsfw is not explicit. Who knew that it would be hard to write something short. Inspired by the Day 2 prompt: horny.

Also posted on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34305571

A nearby bell tolled at midnight just as Shang Qinghua locked up the museum for the night, which meant that he was officially off for the weekend. Being a party of one, he celebrated with a groovy victory dance while turning the key over in the lock.

There was a little click and he rattled the knob, checking that the door was properly locked—if anything was stolen or vandalized during the night, he would most definitely be blamed as the recent hire!

The job was an important stepping stone in his career path plan to being a rare artifacts curator. He really needed the experience. It was hard enough to land the job, so he wasn’t above looking neurotic by double, and triple, and quadruple checking everything before he left.

A chilly breeze tussled his hair and raised goosebumps down his neck. It was October, he supposed while drawing up his hood to block the chill, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain.

He was much to delicate for cold temperatures and would exercise his right to curse out the changing seasons. Of course, he could move somewhere further south, so that he wouldn’t have to put up with it anymore, but still!

The only good thing about the loss of summer was the bugs, he decided.

Clearly, Shang Qinghua was irresistible because bugs treated his blood like an all-you-can buffet. If only hot men thought the same. But alas.

Sighing, he turned up to admire the full moon, who seemed to sympathize with the sad state of his romantic affairs, being the moon and all. Something about it’s pale gray-white color naturally emoted a sad, longing reflection.

It was as he was looking up that he heard a growl, loud not because of its pitch—it was actually quite low and gravelly—but because it vibrated the very air around him.

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t equipped to deal with some beast! He had no weapons and there was no way his body was going to get the job done either. He was a delicate flower, just ask the bugs who always feasted on him!

He rummaged through his bag frantically for his phone. That was what the authorities were for.

Opening his phone, his mind was racing. Who did you call when there was a potentially wild animal on the loose? The police? Animal control?

Gasp! What if it turned out to be a demon?

…!!!

He didn’t have any shamans or priests on speed dial. There had never been a reason to until then but if it would save him, he’d buy up every type of religious necklace he could and wear them around his neck daily. It was like insurance—it never hurt to cover all of his bases.

While he was wasting time on the sidewalk, what appeared to be small bits of gravel drifted down from what seemed like the roof. Scurrying to get closer to the streetlight, which casted a circular light on the steps of the museum, Shang Qinghua bent down to get a closer look.

It felt dusty when he rubbed his pointer finger against his thumb and did match the shade of stone the building was…The new evidence presented a bit of dilemma. Yes, he was still itching to call somebody have them do the dangerous work, but at the same time, his boss might fire him if something happened to the museum under his watch.

“Well, if there’s more damage, I guess I’ll take a look,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together. “But please, take mercy on me, moon! I promise that if you get me out of this that my next erotica will be dedicated solely to you, and in very large print, so that my readers know the reach of your mystical power!”

His hands remained clasped high above his head as he waited. So far so good.

There was still the scary growls, of course, but those didn’t count because he wasn’t going to investigate that. It was absolutely common knowledge that people who investigated weird sounds always ended up dead, at least in horror movies, and that was all the proof he needed to wash his hands of it.

No, the only thing that could sway him from his crouch on the front steps was…was…

Tears shimmered in his eyes as more rubble was knocked off from the roof, the fine particles irritating his nose and causing him to sneeze.

Thoroughly betrayed, he used his sleeve to wipe at his nose. Forget the moon. Clearly the bond he felt had only been one-sided, and now he was obligated to actually suck it up and put himself in harms way.

The Shang Qinghua of five minutes ago would’ve screamed and called himself a fool. Why ignore those highly honed flight instincts?! Even the Shang Qinghua of the present was screaming and calling himself a fool when he took the first hesitant step inside.

It was deceptively quiet in the stairwell but that wasn’t enough to calm him. As the saying went, it was the calm before the shit storm and he was about to be right in the middle of it. How careless of him.

Just in case this was the end, he started to draft an epitaph—it’s not like anyone else would put in the same amount of effort. 

His minor following would be too busy wailing about the permanent book hiatus; his boss would have their hands full dealing with insurance over the architectural damage; and that hot-and-cold cucumber bro of his would still be nagging him in the afterlife, criticizing him for his stupid plan when it ‘clearly would’ve been better to do such and such’. But back to him.

We are gathered here to mourn the passing of one Shang Qinghua, a bright hamster that was taken from Earth far too soon. His exhibit work was flawless, his knack for collections cataloging unrivaled. There was never a day without bountiful office supplies with him around. We thank him for his singular brave—foolish?—sacrifice in the name of historical value. Shang Qinghua is survived by several dying houseplants and the stray dog he usually fed on his way home from work.

There. That sounded as good as he was likely to get. Wait. No. He almost left out the most important part: the secret letter of last words meant only for cucumber bro’s eyes. Bro, if you’re reading this it’s because I died a terrible and scary death. Please take pity and wipe all of my search history. It was all for research, honest! It’s bad taste to judge a dead man.

The access door to the roof was large and imposing in front of him, even though there was still no noise coming from the other side. He was going to be mad and then relieved, in that exact order, if this turned out to be nothing.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Jumped around and shook his hands where they hung down beside the length of his body. He’d watched enough athletes—for research!—throughout his short life and getting loose always seemed to pump them up for competition. The same principle should apply here.

The door gave with a loud screech and he suspected that it wasn’t in regular use. Not that there was probably much to see up there anyway. Just roosting pigeons, stone slabs, and—

His mind went blank.

Crouching in the corner, so close to the edge that all it would take was a gust of wind to send him tumbling down, was some sort of winged creature. And the wings were massive things that arched up before curving downward completely over it’s back, the tips draped on the ground. Judging by how large they were, they had to be functional, which nearly caused him to wet himself. 

He didn’t want to imagine that thing taking flight after him. Not that he would be exciting prey. Gods, this probably how a mouse felt when a hawk was flying overhead.

But it was the horns that really caught his attention. They were hulking black spirals and the sharp points were pointed right at him. Even in the poor light, it was obvious that they were pure black. Any other time, he might comment on how cool they actually were, how they were a cosplayer’s dream, but it wasn’t cool when it was a matter of life and death. 

And he would most certainly die if those menacing horns and wings were any indication.

Trying to keep the element of surprise, he slowly let the door swing shut. Until a little bat started flew over squeaking, which caused him to squeak as well. The door hit the frame with a loud rattle. His body went heavy with fear and his eyes snapped shut, a natural prey response. He had never, ever been this scared.  

Not patient enough for Shang Qinghua to turn around on his own, the creature flung him around to face it with an aggressive growl. And he had thought it was loud when he was on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t true at all. It was much louder and more intimidating when it was right in his face.

“Trespasser!” it growled, teeth clicking.

…Okay, so it could talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Now could grovel with it to spare him!

Blinking rapidly, he opened his eyes and looked up, up, up. It didn’t look as horrific from the front as it did the back. In fact, it had a humanoid appearance and was distinctly male. He was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, a total fantasy come to life. How the hell was he real?

His was incredibly tall, his huge wings proportional to his size now that he was standing up. Now that he saw them up close, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were a beautiful shade of blue that started out dark but lightened to pale blue once it reached the tips, which also had sharp spikes—Nails? Claws? He wasn’t well versed in anatomy—attached.

The top of his ears were pointy, too, just like the tops of the wings. Oh, and the horns! There were two of them, both pure, glossy obsidian, that sprouted out on either side of his temple, the bases thick and ridged as they spiraled like a ram’s. The only difference was that his horns were much larger. He could maul someone with those along if he wasn’t careful.

But now that he considered it more—even in times of crisis, he could multi-task when it really counted—the horns only added more to his attractiveness. They were intimating, sure, but also sexy, in a monsterfucking type of way. He gasped as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Yep, he could definitely get into the horns and claws. Mark him down as scared and horny.

The growling died down but sharp teeth were still on display, and there was a stylized tattoo-looking mark on his forehead. Despite the snarl, Shang Qinghua instinctively knew that his face was insanely attractive; it had to be to match the rest of him. Speaking of the rest of him…

He dropped down in front of him, making sure to drag his hands down that ripped physique and gave his massive pectorals a quick squeeze before he landed on his knees in a kneeling position. 

His face was right in front of the creature’s impressive package, covered only by a flimsy loin cloth. It fluttered in the night breeze and he had to bite down on his finger to stop his depraved moaning. “Ff-forgive me, my good-demon-sir, but I swear I’m not trespassing. I’m a humble worker here at this museum.”

He quickly took out his employee badge to offer it up to the demon who barely gave it a glance. “Gargoyle,” it said in reply.

“Oh. I’m sorry but I don’t really know what you mean by that.” Wait, why did he say that? He didn’t want to get further in the demon’s bad side than he already was! “I mean no offense, of course. I’m sure gargoyles are absolutely lovely—”

“No,” he interrupted, his face smoothed out into blank slate. It made it harder to read him but Shang Qinghua quickly decided that it was alright. “I am a gargoyle, human. You may address me as Mobei Jun.”

Ohhh. Now that he mentioned it, his wings and horns could belong to a gargoyle. He knew that they were popular parts historical buildings that had a strong Western influence, which the museum did.

“And I am a king. Not a sir.”

Curse his authority kink. He was sure that any new fantasies he conjured up would be staring this particular king and Shang Qinghua as his servant.

“Of course, my king! You’re reeking of kingly handsomeness. As a lowly human, my apologies for the obvious mistake.” The gargoyle king didn’t make any move to acknowledge his words other than a slow blink, so he figured that it was all good. “Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you doing up here? And what was all the noise about?”

“Guardian. I was charged with the safety of this place by a war lord.” Jeez. So he’d been with the building for centuries at least, maybe even millennia.

There was a pause and he realized that he wasn’t going to answer the second question. It also seemed like the gargoyle king was waiting on him and a light bulb went off. “S-sorry again my king. I am Shang Qinghua. I am in charge of the rare artifacts inside of the building, so you may see me closing up most nights.”

The gargoyle king nodded sagely and he figured that the role must be acceptable to him. A loud sigh left him and his muscles relaxed just in the slightest way. He might survive this encounter yet. Ever better, survive and be able to go home and break out that new bottle of lube that he bought last week. There was plenty of new material to work with, that was for sure.

Then the gargoyle stepped back, giving him more space, which was actually the opposite of what he wanted. Feel free to punish him for earlier transgressions, king, especially if they were rough in a sexy way!

Unaware of his inner pleadings, he continued walking away to crouch back near the edge of the roof.

“Umm, be careful, king. It’s dangerous to be that close—”

“I am a king. Concerns such as that are not applicable,” he said, puffing up his chest. Those pecs! He might have to put in a request tomorrow to do more work on the roof. It was a crime that no one was admiring that body on a regular basis. “Leave. Return home. The circles under your eyes are hideous.”

He gasped, touching his bags. Rude! He had just finished a long shift and definitely wasn’t at his best. He was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tempt this gargoyle in the future. Trying his best not to show embarrassment, or disappointment, he agreed to leave.

“Whatever you want, my king. I’ll leave for now but if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after as well. In fact, every night, in case you need me.” Screw his weekend off. Who needed one of those when there was a hot gargoyle of legend serving as the guardian of the museum. Not him, that’s who.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed again for good measure. The door was open and he was across the threshold when his dream gargoyle muttered something. “Did you say something, my king?”

He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “The pigeons pooped in my hair.”

Suddenly, the growling from earlier made sense. No matter if you were human or gargoyle, having birds shit in your hair, especially hair as luscious as Mobei Jun’s, was bound to make anyone furious.

Determined to keep his laughs to himself if it was the last thing he did, he merely replied, “Yes, my king. I will make sure to chase them away from you next time.”

“See that you do.”

On cloud nine, Shang Qinghua grinned as he bounded down the stairwell. The gargoyle’s comment implied that there would be a next time. And he intended to romance the loincloth off (literally) of the serious gargoyle king.

Hope you all enjoyed! So happy to share this with everyone. Thanks for reading :)

[bbnibini]

Oh, Brother! (Lucifer ft. Baby Beel)

Summary:  Brotherly love comes with sacrifice, even if the said sacrifice greatly outweighs its benefits. (based on a headcanon request on our old AO3 request box)

Accompanying HC for this fic can be read here. This was originally a request. The old version is poorly formatted so I decided to repost this now that I am sliiiightly better at using tumblr. Anyway, enjoy!

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

I consider myself to be a rather self-sufficient person. It was a fruit of years of conditioning brought upon by my unique, personal circumstances. You may also say that it is my inclination to exhibit such behaviour because of my personality. But while I make long-winded introductions that segues even further from the point I was making, let me, as my brothers say, "cut to the chase":

I have no idea what in Devildom is going on. Sets of eyes looked at me expectantly, and I did as I usually do when I am dragooned into unforeseen…problems. 

"I see." I don't. But a white lie is what is required to quell the squall of chaos right now: debris of what looked like Leviathan's furnishings were strewn on the wet floor. Looking up from the living room where remnants of the ceiling were barely keeping itself intact, Henry freefell into my arms, a timely catch away from his imminent death. I turned to my pale brother, asking "Lotan?" in the calmest tone I can muster, and was only answered in more silence. I offered him Henry, which he took still looking down, and turned to problem #2. 

"MC, may I have him?" 

"I…" 

I stopped and talked over them. "I'm not angry. Let me hold Beel."

"It's all my fault!" 

Sigh. Why do they always do this? A surge of pain was felt on my temples, but I pretended not to feel it. "Why don't you help Levi clean up his room? Do you even know how to take care of a non-human child?" 

"No, but!" they argued again. I listened. "You're not going to punish Mammon, aren't you?" 

Punish is such a heavy word. I noticed how protective they were of my brother, almost to an extent where I feel like they perceive me in an unfavourable light. They were more carefree with them, but all yes and no's with me in comparison. I wouldn't say I'm envious. Rather, I'm baffled. Occasional pranks became the highlight (read: tragedy) of my day, often while I was poring over documents and settling political disputes on behalf of Diavolo. Partnered with Mammon and Satan, they were a force to be reckoned with; one I remembered being visibly annoyed by for interfering with my work. No one shall ever know that I might…have looked forward to those times. It was a puzzle to be pieced, an idle form of entertainment to guess which kind of tomfoolery they would attempt at me that they were foolish enough to think they would succeed in. Unfortunately, any victory they may have celebrated in the past were my fabrications that only the likes of someone as observant as Satan would notice. 

"Procure a change of clothing and go while I'm still being merciful." I saw them share the same pallour as Leviathan, dragging him along while mouthing complaints under their breath. A curse perhaps, not bound by magic but of something else, directed at me, their usual villain. Such childishness that I let slide, as I was accustomed to being an enemy, especially when I know I was right. 

Beel is finally in my arms, a docile child as cherubic as the little Beel in my memories. The pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together as I look around. 

"Belphegor, wake up this instant! You're sleeping on a wet floor." You'll catch a cold, I almost felt myself saying but was able to hold myself back. "Unless you would rather be carried like the old days? I don't mind." 

"Fine, fine. I'm up." They stretched out their arms to retrieve their twin and I shook my head. "I wouldn't leave such a delicate child to someone who couldn't even coordinate themselves properly. Go to sleep, Belphegor.

.

.

.

...and Satan, if you have the time for hexes, you would also have the time to clean up this mess."

"Tsk."

"I would see all of you in my office once this is all fixed.

. 

.

.

.

Not a spot should be left unattended. Understood?" 

"Yes, Lucifer."

I don't have time for this. So many documents are left unsigned on my desk. A meeting with the Chancellor, a hearing from the House of Commons, a response to Michael's ridiculous letter…

"Wuchy, angy?"

Beelzebub's upturned eyes looked at me adorably.

"Wuchy…" I looked around and breathed a sigh of relief as I saw most of them are either absent or pre-occupied. Clearing my throat, I noticed my voice was shriller than usual. "Wuchy…" I repeated and sat Beel on the plush sofa. "Wuchy is NOT angy…"

"Bee hangu" he pulled at my sleeve, turning my attention to his rumbling stomach. "Wuchy…Bee hangu."

I nodded. "I see. Does Bee want to eat?" 

"Peas!" 

"You want to eat peas?" 

"No! Bee Hangu! Peas!" 

"Ah, " I nodded again as I finally understood. "I apologise, Bee. You're trying to say please?" 

I couldn't help but smile back when he did so in reply. 

To my disappointment however, even the kitchen was destroyed, to the point that MC didn't want me to enter. It was admirable, I suppose that they were able to explain the situation to me while everything was still in a state of chaos. 

It all started with a hexes assignment that failed miserably, turning Beel into an inconsolable toddler that caused Levi's room to be absolutely destroyed. Since nobody was capable of understanding Beel's speech, his childish tantrums got worse and caused the House of Lamentation to be in its current state. The only reason the situation subsided a bit was because of Belphie's interference. Where was Belphie in the first place? Was my question, and MC's shrug affirmed that he ignored my warning about sleeping in on the weekend. Again. I sighed. 

"Sorry, Lucifer. Why don't you eat out with Beel for a while?" 

"Bee hangu! Now!" 

"....Bee, that's my glove."

"Bee?" (MC) 

!!!!

"Beelzebub." I cleared my throat. "I shall heed your advice before Beel throws a bigger tantrum."

"Wuchy, hangu!" 

"Yes, yes. Wuchy…heard you. MC, take care of the house while we're gone."

There was a ghost of a smile on their face, one they must have tried to hide from me earlier. "Yes," They snorted, and I silently warned them to open their mouth again.  "Wuchy."

Ah. They still have the audacity to mock me. Me. Who was trying to turn a blind eye? Giving them a chance to fix their mess before anyone else finds out? I smirked back. 

"If the house falls down…or if it gets destroyed any further…prepare to face your punishment . Alone."

Their silence was enough of a penitence…for now. Beel's stomach growled louder and louder each passing second, and my gloves are currently soiled with bite marks everywhere. 

I bent down to meet Beel at eye level and pried my hands away from his nibbling. "What do you want to eat?" 

His eyes sparkled at the question, and he started chanting something in gibberish that I pretended to understand. "Wook wook! Bee fawwit!" 

Wook? 

He...never said that before. Or did he? I decided to carry him in my arms once I noticed he was having difficulty keeping up with my strides. He shook his head several times as we passed every food stall and kiosk in the shopping district, contenting himself with chewing on the gloves I thought I had confiscated already. 

It had been so long that I almost forgot that Beel was once a picky eater when he was little. Michael marveled on his "refined palate", telling me I should cherish my brother's talent (and consider giving Beel to him once he got older to train under his tutelage) but I vehemently refused. I was busy enough as a high-ranking angel and barely had the time to see my siblings, and the last thing I ever wanted was to part from them. I understood the difficulties of having an absent parent all too well, and I did not wish for my brothers to experience the same longing I had when I was the same age as them. 

Beel was as docile and as sweet as I remembered him long ago, smiling and laughing in my arms, calling me Wuchy over and over, and seeking for his twin in adorable babbles of "Bewphie" and "Bwanky", which I responded in my usual way:

"Bewphie, sleep." 

"Seepu?" 

"Yes." I answered, prying away my damaged gloves from his mouth. "Bewphie told me you should eat so you won't wake him up." I pointed at his rumbling stomach, and little Beel automatically held it and felt the rumbling coming from it. 

"Bee…wouwd (loud)?"

"Mhm. Bewphie can't sleep unless you eat something."

He must not have been able to distinguish his twin because of his current form, seeking perhaps a smaller counterpart of his brother just like the old days. After some more meandering around stalls, feeling full over the meals that Beel refused to eat, I racked my brain to figuring out the meaning behind his childish babble:

What on earth does wook mean? 

I have never heard him say it before even in the Celestial Realm, nor did I ever recall teaching him the words. 

"Wook! Wook!" Beel said excitedly again, grabbing my hair in his elation to turn to a man flipping Bat Wing pancakes in a stall. The line was atrocious, barely moving, arid and noisy. 

"Does Bee want to eat that?" 

I sighed in relief when he shook his head. "Wuchy, Wook! Wook Bee fawwit!" 

Wait a moment. Does wook mean…

"Do you want me to look?" But look at what? At the elderly demon flipping pancakes? Beel shook his head again, seemingly lost at how to translate his thoughts and feelings into his limited toddler vocabulary. 

"Wook...wook fuu fo Bee…" he squinted his googly eyes at me and made exaggerated hand gestures. "Wuchy….wook fuu fo Bee! Bee fawwit!" 

The proverbial cogs in my brain started to turn as I came across an epiphany. Before I knew it, I was already holding my DDD. 

It pains me to do this, but I cannot let Diavolo know. 

"Hello, Simeon?" 

Brotherly love comes with sacrifice, even if the said sacrifice greatly outweighs its benefits. It was evident with Simeon's jovial expressions as he opened the door. 

"It really is a baby! Can I hold him?" 

Simeon's smile never disappeared, rather, his eyes narrowed as he turned to me to speak. "Luke is good with kids. He volunteers taking care of cherubs in Heaven."

"Mhm! I have Raphael's seal of approval!" 

Sighing, I surrendered my brother to Luke, my traitorous brother who did not even cry or protest when a complete…stranger is now holding him in his arms. 

"Meemwon!" 

"Oh! I haven't heard that in ages! This sure brings back memories!~" Simeon planted a kiss on Beel's cheek and I couldn't help but frown. "Hello, Bee! It's big bro Meemwon!" Beel giggled in reply as Simeon planted smaller kisses at him, clearly enjoying the attention. 

"You're getting into this, way too much don't you think so?"

"He's adorable!" Simeon reasoned. "But, isn't his stomach growling?" 

"That's why we're here." I tried to maintain an aura of composure. "I need to borrow your kitchen. Is Solomon around?" 

Simeon's eyes widened for a bit in understanding…then I heard manic laughter. Is this really how he should conduct himself in front of the children? I kept that opinion to myself and didn't say a word. "No, he isn't. Don't worry." He looked at me again and smiled reassuringly. "Feel free to use the kitchen. We'll take care of Beel~" 

"Solomon--"

"...won't feed Beel anything even if he does come back. Just go before he throws another tantrum!" Simeon shooed me away from the living room, pushing my back to Purgatory Hall's fully furnished kitchen. It certainly had better equipment compared to Lamentation, which I can only attribute to Michael's influence. 

Cooking was one thing, but feeding Beel another. He continued rejecting meal after meal after meal of my best dishes. His stomach only growled louder, and his mood became irritable even with Simeon's and Luke's aid. The ingredients I have purchased were almost gone, left only with a half-used bag of flour, milk and eggs. 

"The best I can do with these are pancakes…

. 

. 

. 

. 

Pancakes?" 

A memory flashed in my mind, taking me back to the Celestial Realm and our former residence there. Assuring the house help that I wanted to try cooking for my brothers for a change, I begrudgingly followed the recipe book Michael had given me and started with its easiest dish. 

. 

. 

. 

. 

. 

. 

I attributed my failed attempts to Michael's unique, archaic wordings in his cook book and tried again. And again. And again. Numerous ruined frying pans and ingredients later, I was left with a shabby excuse of a pancake---charred at the sides, eggshells at the other. I waved my white flag in surrender and called for a food delivery instead, deflated. Some Morning Star I was. It was an hour before dinner and my siblings were peeking at the kitchen with their blinking, doe eyes.

"Wuchy...huwt?" Lilith looked up to me, looking like she was about to cry and I took her in my arms to comfort her. 

"Lucy…" I corrected myself. "Wuchy isn't hurt. Just tired."

"Seepu?" Belphegor offered me his cow pillow and I shook my head. "Later after we eat."

"Fuu?!" I managed to catch Beelzebub with my free hand before he faceplanted on the floor as he rushed to me in excitement. 

"I'm sorry, Bee. As you can see, Wuchy doesn't have anything edible he can feed you." I carried him in my free arm and showed him my culinary failures. 

"Wuchy…fuu." Beel pouted at me. "Wuchy, whie. Fuu deww! (Lucy lied. There's food over there!)" He tugged my hair and glared. "Bee, eat!" 

"Eat!" Lilith mimicked. 

"Bewphie, eat?" Belphegor followed. 

"No, children. As you can see-- Mammon, wash your hands first!--" 

I couldn't believe my eyes. 

Everyone was gathered at the table, eating my failures with smiles on their faces. Beel, who had been sitting next to me this whole time tugged me on the sleeve to ask for seconds. "Dis...Bee fawitt! Cwunch!"

"It must be the eggshells."

"Mhm! Wuv it! Wuchy?" 

I felt him wrap his arms around my side. With a wide grin, he said. "I wuv you!" 

Only to be followed by a barrage of hugs from the others, talking over each other as they gathered around me with their syrup-stained faces.

"Asmo wuvs Wuchy disssss much!" 

"Bewphie...wuv!"

"Wiwi, wuv Wuchy moww! (Lilith loves Lucy more!)" 

"I guess you're okay…but the Great Me is better!" 

"...Levi l-loves Lucy too…"

I couldn't remember much of what happened afterwards, but I do recall telling the delivery man that he can have my order for himself. After that, I strived to become better at cooking so I can serve my siblings better meals.

.

.

. 

Anyone would strive to try harder if they are ever subjected to that much smothering, I suppose. Still, I do think that after that, Beel began to eat everything happily, much to Michael's dismay.

"This looks horrifying." The plating of the pancake itself was one or two burns shy of Solomon's best attempts at cooking…I could not believe that out of every dish there is in this world, this horrible disaster is my brother's favourite food. I never really asked him about it. Perhaps I have forgotten and he happily ate everything I cooked because he had no choice. Still, it was no time to mull over such nonsense, especially if Beel's stomach is now resembling Cerberus' growls. 

"Wook!" Beel's eyes sparkled as I placed the cooled pancakes down at the table, munching on the sweet treat happily despite the…eggshells. I tried my best to emulate my failed attempts from before, and judging from the elated look on Beel's face, I must have gotten his approval. 

"Is that--" (Simeon) 

"Don't ask." I shut him up before he could even speak a word. "And please don't ever say this to Michael. I wouldn't hear the end of it."

Simeon smiled impishly in reply. "Would you cook here again--" 

"No.

.

.

.

.

.

But I suppose I owe you some hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies for letting me use your kitchen."

"Anytime~" 

"I was talking to the chihuahua, not you."

"I'm not a chihuahua!" 

Beel was sleeping peacefully in my arms on the way home. While still baffled at a startling discovery about Beelzebub, I hadn't much time to think about it as I was covered in confetti the moment I opened the door. 

"Happy birthday, Lucifer!" (MC) 

"Simeon took too much time! The ice cream's meltin'!" 

"Lolololol I told you he forgot his own birthday! Beel was the perfect distraction!" 

What. On. Earth. Is going on? 

"Sorry, Lucifer!" MC bowed her head and looked up to me, looking apologetic. "We were trying to throw you a surprise party but…things got…well...wrong. But, everything's okay now!" They pulled me inside and showed me the feast they have prepared for me. 

It was a smorgasbord of my favourites. From the appetisers to the desserts and wines, I recalled some of these dishes as my specialties. Satan's familiar handwriting was drawn over a buttercream cake with my name on it, along with a small drawing of me in a party hat along with everyone else. Everyone else was seated at the dining table including Diavolo and Barbatos, both of which I was trying to avoid the entire day. 

Were they involved in this ridiculous plan as well? 

MC seemed to read my mind and nodded at me shyly. "I did mess up with my homework, that much is true, but Solomon helped in undoing the spell! He was the one who suggested to turn Beel back into a toddler so we have enough time to prepare for everything!" 

Solomon waved a hand at me and smiled. "They still didn't let me cook anything though☆"

"So all of the chaos…"

"...is us cleaning up our first attempts of party preparations." Satan begrudgingly replied. "Until of course, you came back earlier than expected."

"Now, now~" Asmo interjected. "What's important is that he's here and Beel's spell is about to wear off!♡ Now, Lucifer dear, why don't you join us and blow your candles?" 

I have completely forgotten about my birthday.

I didn't see the point of celebrating it anymore, I suppose. Thousands of years of repetitions can bring ennui upon you. However, things have changed. 

The House of Lamentation had a warmer atmosphere thanks to MC, and everyone was closer than ever before. The loss of a family and an inclusion of a new one opened up our hearts enough to heal and perhaps forgive ourselves a little for the years we have ignored its value. 

Who knew such a fleeting human could be the catalyst of such unimaginable developments? 

"Oh! Beel's back!" 

"Yay~! Your seat's over there, Beel!" 

I consider myself to be a rather self-sufficient person. It was a fruit of years of conditioning brought upon by my unique, personal circumstances.

However…nothing can ever prepare me for this moment. 

"Lucifer?" 

I turned to Beelzebub, now back to his normal form and he offered me a smile. "The pancake you cooked was really good. Can you make it again for me next time?" 

I smiled back. 

"With or without the eggshells?"