#I’m like a fucking dog I see a delicious fruit and I just go for it there is no stopping me

[hawnks]

YouTube doesn’t keep playing in a little box in the corner when u leave the app with a video playing anymore??

[moominofthevalley]

Made with Love

Trystan follows up on his promise, much to Emily’s dismay.

trystan x emily

teen | wc: 1.5k | early book 1

Ink spots of rain trickled onto the industrial windows of Trystan’s penthouse. Groaning, Emily scanned the living room. Stacks of papers were scattered about the coffee table ahead of her, and the mysterious three-headed statue peered into her eyes as it stood on last night’s notes. She glared back at the eerie trinket, finishing off her old stale cup of coffee. 

“Morning partner,” Trystan smirked, his body leaning against the kitchen counter. Crossing her arms, Emily shook her head and begrudgingly smiled.

“You know, I’m not a big fan of that word, ‘partner.’ You’re more like…a little dog. Nothing more than that. Just a tiny little dog that follows me around all day,” Emily teased, “Are you ready?”

“It’s six in the morning. We have two hours to spare! We can do whatever we want!”

She scoffed, “Well, I would really want to head in early. I couldn’t find much on-”

“Hang on a second! Don’t you remember the little raincheck we made a while back?” Emily shook her head. “We have time. Let me make you some dazzling traditional Drakovian breakfast. You’ll love it.”

“Fine,” Emily pouted, “But I also want a new cup of coffee.”

“Of course,” Trystan said, “How’d your research go last night?”

“It was shit,” she scoffed, “Couldn’t find anything on that statue.” Emily shook her head, moving to sit at the kitchen bar. 

“You’ll find something eventually.”

A package of sausages, an egg carton, a loaf of bread, a bowl of fresh strawberries, and a dark chocolate bar were placed on the counter. The scent of bitter, brewing coffee filled the room. Emily quietly mumbled as her eyes fixated on Trystan’s hands, slowly peeling the sausages out of their package. 

“I take it you don’t normally make yourself breakfast?” Trystan asked, grabbing a cutting board and a knife. Emily shrugged, impatiently waiting for her promised cup of coffee.

“No. Usually don’t have the time.”

“Well then, I think you’ll love this.”

“Oh yeah? Do you cook for every woman who spends the night in your penthouse?”

“Of course I do,” he winked, “But you are the first American to try my deliciously amazing Drakovian breakfast!”

“How lucky I am,” she deadpanned, “The ‘first American!’”

Trystan grinned, setting a cast-iron skillet and a saucepan on the stove. The detective observed him, thrilled at how tenderly Trystan handled the ingredients. His veiny hands chopped the chocolate to bits, the aroma swirling around the kitchen. There was something so divine about it all – so much care and gentleness, so purely intimate; and only for the sullen detective to see. Her heart bubbled inside of her, eyes fondly locked on his hands. 

Trystan cleared his throat, glancing at his partner, “What’s gotten you so distracted?” 

“What? Nothing! Fuck off!” Emily retorted, her eyes now on the coffee machine. “I’m distracted because I don’t have my coffee yet.”

“For a detective, you make a horrible liar.”

“Shut up.”

The two laughed, their eyes catching each other’s for a brief second. Trystan put the dark chocolate bits into a ramekin. 

“Do you cook a lot?” Emily asked as the coffee machine came to a finish. Trystan took a well-loved mug from the cupboard and poured her a fresh cup of coffee. 

“Oh, yes, I am an amazing chef. Just you wait!” Trystan moved over to the strawberries; chopping them up and placing the fruit in a separate ramekin. Bits of strawberries clustered around his hands, splotches of bright red painting his fingers. 

“Oh really? You’re a bit…messy.” 

“Don’t you know? All magnificent cooks are messy sometimes!”

“My bullshit meter is going off the charts,” Emily said, taking a sip of the coffee. “You got fuckin’ strawberry bits all over you! Put on an apron.”

Trystan shook his head, pointing to a nearby coat hanger holding some aprons. “If you’re so bothered by the mess, Detective, put the apron on me yourself. My hands are a bit busy at the moment.” 

Rolling her eyes, Emily took an apron and stood behind him, closely watching his movements. He continued dicing the strawberries as Emily tied the apron around his neck, her eyes locked on the prickles of hair on his shoulder. Gently placing her hands around his waist, her cheeks rose in heat, finally tying the last knot. A wistful sigh escaped her, the heat of her breath tickling Trystan’s neck. She sat back down, quietly admiring the view of her partner – her little dog – cooking her a quaint breakfast. 

“Better?” Trystan asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Much. Now hurry up, I do plan on coming in early.” 

“Of course.” 

A satisfying hum escaped from the skillet as Trystan dumped the package of sausages. Reaching the cupboards, he grabbed a heap of seasonings – salt and pepper, paprika, basil, and thyme – and sprinkled them over the meat. Minutes of more crackles passed, and soon, everything was quite perfect. He placed the fresh boar sausages on two separate plates; one for the disgraced detective, and another for the disgraced royal.

“Smells amazing,” Emily said. 

“That is the beauty of cooking, isn’t it? How it makes your whole house smell so heavenly!” Trystan smiled, dumping the dark chocolate into a saucepan. Stirring the gooey chocolate with a whisk, his heart danced at the loving act: cooking a meal for a dear friend. Turning off the stove, he placed the saucepan on a counter, waiting for the glaze to chill. 

“Want a taste?” He asked, pointing a ladle towards the detective. Holding the spoon for her, Emily took a long sip, her eyes never leaving his. Trystan lowered the ladle, slightly tilting his head. The taste was wondrous, and she hummed as the savory notes pranced around her mouth. She was, in secret, delighted. 

“Mm, not bitter enough,” Emily joked, eyes still on Trystan. Chuckling, he grabbed the egg carton and another skillet. 

“Are scrambled eggs okay?” She nodded, taking another sip of her coffee as she sat back down.

“Is it…almost done?”

“Tsktsk, always so impatient, aren’t you? Breakfast — Drakovian breakfast — thrives on complexity, Rose. It’ll take a bit longer than making bacon and eggs.”

Trystan easily cracked two eggs with a single hand, whisking them in a bowl before dropping both of them on the pan. He dusted the eggs with a handful of salt and pepper, sprinkles of paprika, and garnished with basil and thyme. 

The first to go on the plates were buttery, silken pieces of milk bread. Adorning the bread carefully, he scooped up the scrambled eggs and set one on each plate. Steam flew into the air, the complementary scents melding each other. He dunked the strawberry chunks on top, the crimson red fading into the eggs and bread. Trystan set plump boar sausages on both of their plates. 

“And now, partner, for the finishing touches…” 

Trystan spilled the dark chocolate glaze across the strawberry-egg toast combo. On instinct, Emily’s stomach rumbled loudly. The sausages were perfectly round and cooked, not a speckle of char in sight. The bread was soft and stout, now blanketed with the dark chocolate glaze. 

“Go on, try it.” Trystan handed her a fork and a napkin.

Emily took a bite of the sausage, the heat burning her tongue. The taste was simply exquisite; the seasonings were perfectly blended, and the subtle yet rich nuttiness from the boar sausage made her mouth water. Finishing the last bite, Emily glanced at Trystan, a grateful gleam in her eye. 

“How is it?”

Before answering, Emily took a large bite out of the toast. An ear-to-ear grin escaped her lips, her mouth still full of strawberries and eggs.

“I lhuhve it, fkanksh.”

“Your manners are atrocious.”

“Your faesh is atroshush.”

Trystan gazed into her earthy eyes, astonished at how such a snarky detective could sway his heart. Stealing a glance at her lips, Trystan answered her with another ear-to-ear grin. 

“So, this is what it takes to get a real smile from you? Making you breakfast?”

Emily shrugged and swallowed the rest of the breakfast, trying to keep a straight face. Despite how madly infuriating the disgraced royal behaved, how obnoxious and overly flirtatious he was; a part of her gut refused to ignore the alarms ringing in her head. Just this once, in this rainy and misty morning, the grumpy detective smiled at her partner. 

“Trystan…” She mumbled, her hand sliding over his. The two of them, opposites of each other, leaned closer. Trystan’s free hand cradled her jaw, the heat of his body soothing her. Their lips seconds from embracing…

“Right, well we should-”

“Warm in here-”

“Stuffy! Um, I'll just-”

“Yeah.”

Emily and Trystan stared at each other for a brief second, dumbfounded. She shook it off, slightly disappointed. The charged moment passed as all moments tend to do.

Interrupting the silence, Trystan’s eyes flitted back to Emily, removing his hand from hers.

“One of these days, we’ll go to Drakkos together and I’ll cook you a whole three-course meal of traditional Drakovian food.”

“I’ll hold you to that, your highness. Now, get your ass up. I would appreciate not being late to work today.”

* * * * A/N: my first crimes fic!! crimes of passion is my special interest & it just means so much to me! i absolutely cannot wait for the third book!! :) in the meantime, i'll be writing plenty more trystan x emily drabbles!! thanks for reading & i hope you enjoyed it.

click here for a masterlist of all my written works!

[heyyoufathead]

i’m obsessed with the keto white bread i found at wally world. i won’t read the ingredient list because i’m sure it’s not bread, or even food. but it’s fucking delicious. same thing with sugar-free fruit preserves and sugar-free pancake syrup. i prefer to keep on enjoying these things inside the bliss that is ignorance.

the scale said 160lbs this morning. it made me happy. all the new smaller pants and underwear i bought are getting too big. and i can’t afford to buy new stuff now because i need to buy shoes (and hiking boots) from my podiatrist, and possibly go see the orthopedic doc about my left foot.

plus i spent $293 on dog medications for the month today. my fur baby is high maintenance. and i may have spent $75 on shit for his toy/treat subscription box. my fur baby is baby.

as far as me, i cried in therapy this past thursday. because accepting love from myself is so physically and emotionally and psychically discomforting. and believing i deserve money, after being such a colossal fuck-up for decades, is difficult to stomach. validation, that i crave so fucking desperately, actually hurts to receive.

why don’t i love myself? why do i worry so much about how things appear?

the fact that my parents and my dad’s mother were often vocally critical of what i ate, how much i ate, what i wore, my body, my facial hair, how i wore the hair on my head…blah blah blah ad nauseum…may have caused me to be hyperaware of other people’s opinions about me. and i may have internalized it as disapproval. and i may have tried to reconfigure every molecule of my being in the pursuit of approval that they were never actually going to give me anyway.

and now, when people want to have opinions about me, i still internalize it as disapproval and feel the urge to try and “be different”, but i also feel the urge to violently reject it and defend my boundaries and fragile sense of self.

this could very well be the reason i don’t like being touched and i have such a hair trigger where bodily autonomy is concerned.

did i just let all the things i’ve been avoiding out in one single journal entry?

wow.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Finale - Rewrite - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 7 - Beast

=

It had taken a bit to get from the castle to the dorms but now you, Celia, and Uma sat in Audrey’s room as Mal and Evie searched the campus for any clues for where the possessed princess might be. Uma was on Audrey’s bed reading her diary while you lay across her legs, playing with the fishnet wrapped around Uma’s waist.

Celia was digging through Audrey’s jewelry as Mal and Evie turned to the room, both looking exhausted from their run around campus “she’s nowhere on campus” Evie breathed, leaning on the vanity as she caught her breath.

“Found her diary,” Uma said distracted as she continued to flip through the private pages. You had told her of Audrey’s struggles before but seeing them on paper was a bit of a heartache, wow her grandmother really was a bitch. “and damn did you ruin her life” Uma chuckled, setting down the diary and giving Mal a sharp smile

Mal just looked sad at the notion, yes, she might have originally not cared about running someone's life (Audrey and Uma being examples of her old cruelty) but knowing first hand from Audrey’s own diary that she had ruined her life made her feel terrible “did you find anything that we don’t already know or?” Mal asked dryly, trying to brush off her feelings so they could get this mission done.

“she hangs out at fairy cottage” Uma closed the book and tossed it aside, patting your leg as it hit your head. “you know? Where flora, fauna, and Merryweather hid her mom from your mom?” Uma teased, laughing a bit as Mal rolled her eyes.

“ha-ha, yeah yeah, do you think that’s where we'll find her?” Mal laughed dryly and looked down at you, as out of all the vks you were the one who was around Audrey the most.

“Maybe, she does hang out there a lot, and it’s very secluded, deep in the enchanted woods and way past Auroria castle, it’ll be past midnight by the time we get there” you muttered, picking at your nails. Mal nodded, it would be their best bet.

“Then let's head back to Evie's and wait for the boys, then we’ll head for Auroria immediately, we’re short on time as it is” Mal pushed you up from your spot on Uma’s legs and let you grab Uma, who was being very stubborn, wanting to stay on Audrey’s very comfortable bed.

Evie turned and gave a disapproving look to the thieving Celia, who had one of Audrey’s gaudy blue songbird tiaras on and multiple other pieces of jewelry. “First off, those don’t suit you at all, second, the bling stays here” Evie snorted as Celia pouted at her.

“But she’s bad!” Celia wined, shoulders slumping as Evie reached out and took the tiara off her head.

“And Dizzy made better jewelry when she was seven, now come on, put them away and I’ll get you some styling jewelry after this is all over, I’ll ever take you to the bayou.” Celia perked up a bit at that and started to take off Audreys stuff, rushing after the others with Evie after she set the last bracelet down.

-

“Ben!” Carlos called out for the lost king, looking around every turn in the search for their dear friend. Jay called out for him as well, Gil attempting to use his tracking skills for any footprints that might lead them to Ben, Harry trailing behind with Hadie as the five boys searched for the King.

Carlos sighed, calling Dude back to him and sitting down on a rock, pulling out a scrap of Ben’s clothing for Dude to smell and track. “come on, nothing?” Gil perked up and almost skipped over to a blueberry bush, picking some off and moving aside for Hadie as the older vk looked especially curious at the bush.

“Are these blueberries?” Hadie asked, picking one off and tossing it in his mouth, his eyes comically sparkling as the taste. Gil chuckled and picked off a handful for the god and poured it into his hands, Hadie devouring them in seconds.

“ya know” Jay chuckled walking up next to Gil and picking off a berry or two “that is the same face Mal makes when she eats strawberries” Carlos turned and laughed, nodding along.

“It is! Ya know, I always thought you and Mal had some similarities, I guess your dad being, well, your dad, solidifies that eh?” Hadie just shrugged, distracted by the delicious blue-purple fruit.

“soooo, how long have you known about you and Mal being siblings?” Gil asked, once again Hadie just shrugged.

“uh, I guess when Maleficent dropped her off at dads door” Hadie muttered rubbing his lips free from the stain of the fruit. "so, around 19 years I guess” Gil hummed and nodded, picking a couple more blueberries and popping them in his mouth, Dude and Harry walking around looking for Ben still.

Harry looked down as Dude pawed at his boot and then nodded, realizing Dude had picked up a scent. “Pup!” Carlos looked up at Harry, then silently cursed to himself, why did he still respond to that dumb nickname Harry had given him when he was 7. “Dude found somethin’ !” Carlos stood and ran after Harry, who was already trailing Dude as the dog went off the main trail and went deeper into the forest.

Gil, Jay, and Hadie quickly followed, not realizing there were eyes on them as they resumed their search for the king.

-

The girls arrived at Evie's cottage, which luckily wasn’t far from Auradon prep especially with the bikes, and hopped off their vehicles, Uma whistling in appreciation for the quaint home “nice place” Uma muttered, smirking a bit as Evie grinned at her.

“I got a good deal” she chuckled, taking her key out and unlocking the back patio doors, the five girls walking in and getting comfortable. Celia suddenly stopped as she noticed light snores coming from the parlor and tiptoed in, gasping a bit as she locked her eyes onto the twins and Dizzy, all three sound asleep.

Dizzy seemed to be having a nightmare, and Celia quickly calmed it with a long blanket and soothing words, Evie smiling at the two as (y/n) made sure the twins were okay. Mal walked into the living room and sighed with relief, all the other vks were still here, asleep, but here. Claudine, Colin, and Ginny were huddled up on the couch with Ginny as the main pillow, Colin on her legs as Claudine took her chest, and Diego was sound asleep in Carlos’ favorite armchair with the leg rest popped out.

Uma turned as sudden loud snoring came from the room just off the kitchen, Uma, Mal, and Evie quickly walked towards it only to find Doug on the ground in a crumpled mess, some tubes of fabric rolled out across from him. He must’ve been cleaning up when the sleeping spell washed over the house. “uh, who’s the dude?” Uma asked, Evie pushing past her and kneeling next to him.

“Doug, my boyfriend” Evie placed her hand on his head and checked for any injuries, sighing in relief when she found none, he might be sore from sleeping on the hard tile of her workroom but otherwise he’d be fine. “let's see if this works, Mal” Mal perked up, raising her brow “go get the yellow bubbling potion in the thin and long glass tube that’s at the top of the cabinet above the refrigerator,” Mal grumbled and turned, calling out for (y/n), since she couldn’t reach that spot; might as well get some help with it. Damn her 5’2 height.

Uma raised her brow in curiosity as Evie sat Doug up to get ready to administer the potion “uh, what potion?”

“Some anti-sleep spell potion I made a while ago” Evie smiled at Uma, and Uma paused a bit, suddenly fearing the once thought to be a simple fashion forward prissy isle princess “I made it from some of the poison from Maleficent’s spindle on the needle, should reverse the spell on Doug. I know Mal said there’s not a lot that can reverse the curse of the scepter but there’s no harm in trying” Mal and (y/n) returned with the bubbling yellow potion and Mal handed it to Evie. Evie popped off the cork and poured it down the sleeping Doug’s throat.

Evie clasped her hands together and prayed to whatever gods were listening that it worked. And it did, because a few moments later Doug's eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly at Evie “thank goodness for your potion-making skills” he rasped, leaning in to hug Evie as she squealed and pounced on him.

Uma laughed a bit and turned to give the two some privacy as Evie quickly caught Doug up to speed, (y/n) and Mal following close behind. Uma paused as she looked directly at the unpackaged Jane cake.

You met her gaze then looked at the cake, then sighed “well, it's gonna go bad if we don’t” you gestured to the cake and Uma practically skipped towards it “just leave a slice for Jane at least” Uma nodded, grabbing a knife and cutting herself a sizable piece, Celia running into the room to get on the cake action.

“I hope they find Ben” Mal muttered, sitting at the kitchen window counter and leaning on her hands, eyes downcast in worry for her boyfriend.

“I’m sure they’ll find him Mal” you comforted, rubbing her shoulder and offering her some cake. “have some faith in them”

-

Carlos called for Ben as Dude let them deeper into the forest, the dog pausing ever so often and then leading them in a new direction. “Ben!!” Carlos yelled out, spinning in a circle to get his voice to reach father as Dude sniffed at a large claw/shoe print.

Dude shook his head and turned to look at Carlos ‘I found a print! Smells like Ben and-something really really smelly! Even worse than Jay's power shakes!’ Carlos snorted and walked up to Dude to look at the print, yelping as a large stone statue leaped from the brush next to him, swiping at his face but thankfully missing.

“holy shit!” Carlos yelled, picking up Dude and running back towards Jay, the stone statue close behind. Jay’s eyes widened as he got a good look at the beast. It was one of the marble lion statues from Auradon prep!

The boys turned on their heels and ran, Hadie taking a small chance and creating a fireball in his hand then throwing it at the statue, grinning as it blasted the beast into pieces. But it was replaced with two more that lept from the brush just behind him. “fuck!” Hadie yelled bolting after the others.

…

Ben opened his blackened eyes to the sound of screams…familiar screams. He lept up from his shady spot under a tree and bolted towards the sounds. His friends! His friends were in danger! He slid to a stop on all fours and let out a pitiful whine as he watched Harry, Gil, Jay, Carlos, and Hadie run away from the marble beasts chasing them, Hadie taking quick shots at them but unfortunately missing.

Ben let out a low growl as several more marble beasts went to attack his friends, he arched back on his heels and went to pounce but stopped. He saw his horrific reflection in a small puddle next to him, beastly matted hair, black eyes, sharp fangs, dark curling horns, paws with claws the size of his face, he had also grown several times bigger than his human size.

He was a monster, he sank back, watching his friends with watery eyes as they attempted to fight against the beasts. Ben let out a pained roar as one of the beasts jumped at Harry and sliced into his shoulder, the pirate falling to the ground in agonizing pain as Harry screamed out. Blood poured from his shoulder and Ben steeled himself.

They were his friends, they were being hurt, they cared about Ben.

They wouldn’t fear him, and they would never hurt him.

He had to be brave, for them. As their king and friend.

Ben leaped out of the brush, letting out a mighty roar and slamming into two marble beasts, the stone crumbling under his claws in an instant. He whirled around and jumped towards Harry, slamming into the beast about to clamp its jaws around Harry’s throat and tossing it away. Ben let out a terrifying roar, one that echoed out throughout the forest.

“Beasty?” Harry weakly asked from below him, hand clamped on his heavily bleeding shoulder. Ben looked down at him and let out a cooing whine, looking back up and growling as another two statues came near him. Ben reared up and slashed at the beasts, the marble crumbling under his strength.

“Go Ben!” Carlos yelled from next to Jay, who stared slack-jawed at beast Ben. “you got this! Kick their butts!” Ben grinned at Carlos’ encouragement and did quick work of the last two beasts, swiping and destroying them under his jaw and claws.

Gil and Carlos cheered for Ben as Jay stared in awe, Hadie bolting towards Ben and sliding underneath him to attend to Harry. Ben backed away and nudged at the slowly becoming unresponsive Harry. “shit” Hadie curse, patting Harry’s face to wake him “come on Hook, don’t pass out on us”

Carlos, Gil, and Jay ran closer to the three, Jay grabbing onto Ben’s collar just in case he got afraid of their reactions and tried to run. But thankfully that was the last thing on Ben’s mind as he looked down at Harry.

“Harry come on dude” Gil whispered, taking off his bandana and soaking up the blood as Harry’s eyes fluttered “(y/n)s gonna kill me if i-woah!” suddenly Ben was sprayed with water, his body glowing a soft periwinkle as he shrunk down to his normal size and his horns, paws, claws, and fangs reduced with it.

Ben shook his head and looked around, eyes widening as he spotted Jane holding a long water gun, probably half full with enchanted lake water. “Jane!” he called, waving her over to Harry. “help him! the water can help!” Jane hurried over and gasped as she saw the badly wounded Harry. She kneeled next to him and gently sprayed the water onto this shoulder, the slices glowing the same blue as Ben had and closing up, the blood disappearing as the water ran over it.

Harry slowly regain consciousness and groaned, sitting up with the help of Ben and Hadie. “wha-Beastie boy? How did yeh?” Ben just nodded at Jane then quickly explained what had happened to him.

“Audrey, no, Maleficent cursed me to become my worst fear, an unlovable beast like my father, but the water” Ben nodded at Jane again, who was being hugged by Gil “turned me back, it breaks spells and can drastically reverse curses but-“ Ben gestured to himself, still mostly furry and fanged “-only mostly, we’ll have to defeat Maleficent to fully remove the curse” Harry just nodded, still out of it slightly and stood on wobbly legs, he had lost a bit of blood so it would be a minute before he didn’t feel dizzy anymore.

“Let's head back to Evie's place, they’re waiting on us,” Gil said, pushing Jane to Carlos for the younger vk to take her as Gil and Jay helped Harry get situated to move out. “and We’re running out of time” Ben nodded and followed after his friends, Hadie trailing just behind them, eyeing the marble statues that had been destroyed by him and Ben.

-

Mal stepped behind Celia's chair, looking at Uma slightly unsure before she decided to just go for it “Thank you, Uma. That was a really good idea” Uma turned to her with raised brows, confused on why Mal was talking to her willingly “searching Audreys room, now we have an idea of the right track” Uma frowned and glanced at you, who shrugged and continued to eat one of your snacks that you had hidden at Evie's just in case.

“Is there an insult in there or something that I missed?” Uma asked with a mouthful of cake, Mal shook her head, sincere in her words.

“no, no insult, I just…wanted to thank you.”

-

Audrey, no, Maleficent clicked her tongue in frustration, slowly her weak little failure of a daughter and her ‘friends’ were figuring out where she had gone and were getting closer to beating her…if only little Malsy didn’t have that blasted ember, it was the only thing next to the wand that could defeat the scepter and reverse the possession spell she had placed upon the daughter of Aurora.

“On the right track,” Maleficent said through Audrey, glaring down at the image on her scepter as Mal sat across from Uma, getting a plate of cake for herself “you won't be going anywhere” Maleficent looked up and smirked at Chad, who looked as if he was five seconds from peeing his pants. “how about we mess em up a little?” Chad looked at her fearfully and attempted to suggest something less…evil. Which made Maleficent angry.

“I say we go back to my place and binge-watch some tv?” Chad suggested, his eyes wide with terror “huh? Or maybe order some stuff online?” Maleficent/Audrey tilted her head with a smirk, somehow that translating to ‘yeah let’s do that instead’ to Chad “yeah? Yeah!” Maleficent/Audrey flicked her hand down and Chad followed it, his body glowing a soft green as he went to his knees. “no?! um-what about pizza?” Maleficent/Audrey flicked her hand out and Chad fell on his ass, his back facing an open closet…which gave Maleficent/Audrey an idea “okay, you don’t like Pizza, salad! Sa-“ Chad stopped as he looked towards the front door of the little cottage the two were in, eyes widening as he looked at “Audrey’s” shadow.

Except it wasn’t Audrey’s shadow anymore, once with long hair and a crown perched on her head, was now a taller older figure, with curling horns protruding from its head. Even Chad wasn’t dumb enough to not figure it out. He looked from the shadow to Audrey as discreetly as he could, clenching his jaw as he noticed Audrey’s usual honey brown eyes were turning a vivid green, similar to Mal's eyes.

He went to stand and attempt to take the scepter from his possessed friend but Maleficent blasted him back with a wave of her scepter and Chad was in the closet, the lock sliding shut with another wave.

He started to bang on the door, pleading for Audrey to fight the spell that had taken hold. Maleficent only laughed, there was no saving Audrey now, by the time her daughter and her friends got here, it would already be too late.

Maleficent turned and disappeared into a swirl of green smoke, she had a much better place to execute her evil plans than in this old hideout the good fairies once hid the princess Aurora.

-

Mal chewed her lip as she watched Uma from across the dining table, Uma ignoring her as she enjoyed another piece of Jane’s cake. “Okay I know I’ve been feeding you sugar for the past three years but slow down you’re gonna give yourself a sugar crash and stomach ache” you joked as you pulled the almost empty plate away from Uma, laughing as she glared and pulled it back.

“Fuck you let me have my sugar,” Uma said in a teasingly angry tone, a smile on her face as you tried to take the plate again “take the plate and I stab you”

“Stab me and I’ll turn you into calamari” you shot back, snickering as Uma rolled her eyes.

“That’s squid dumbass, I’m an octopus.” you held your hands up and sighed, leaning back in your chair and looking outside to keep an eye out for the boys.

“Hey, Uma?” Mal asked nervously, playing with her piece of cake as Uma looked at her with wary eyes “I um…I wanted to apologize” Uma looked genuinely shocked at that, sharing a look with you before looking back at Mal apprehensively, unsure of what Mal was going to say.

“I-I was a bitch of a kid” Uma snorted at that, going back to her cake as Mal continued to talk “I really was a bitch to you specifically, the…shrimp incident, the harassment after that, I treated you like dirt even before all that and I really want you do know that I regret it all, im sorry for the way I was and how I was so cruel to you, I know we were raised to be like that but still, I feel awful about it”

Uma glanced up at Mal, her face giving away nothing. Mal sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear “im not expecting your forgiveness or anything like that, I don’t expect your friendship, just because I apologized doesn’t automatically mean you should forgive or forget about the way I hurt you. So I understand if, after today, we never speak again” Mal smiled at Uma and looked down at her piece of cake, seeming as if a weight had finally been lifted off her chest.

Uma stared at her for a moment before nodding and pushing around a piece of cake with her fork “You were right (y/n)…she has changed” Uma muttered, pushing down a smile as Mal perked up at that and looked at her confused.

���(y/n) talked about me?” Mal asked, looking at (y/n) with shocked eyes “Why would you talk about me?” you shrugged and grabbed your bottle of root beer, keeping your eyes on the outside.

“Told her ‘bout you going to therapy n stuff and how you are actually doing better than just saying it and not changing at all” you hummed, sipping at your soda and sighing. “in my world, the movie you was a whole ass bitch and the writers didn’t develop your character properly at all, treated everyone like shit, including Ben…weird thought but what if we’re in the third movie right now?”

Uma and Mal shared a look of ‘ah right forgot she’s from another dimension where we’re fictional characters’ “that’s possible, but please don’t even mention that again I do not want to implode” Mal snarked, laughing a bit as you flipped her off without looking.

You froze as the hum of magic suddenly pulsed around you, a dome of blue magic that shimmered with green and pink surrounded the house like an airtight cage, sealing the doors and windows. “What the fuck!?” Mal yelled out, standing from her chair and rushing towards the windows, yelping as the dome pushed her back from them “It's Audrey, she trapped us!”

“Celia!” Uma yelled out for the young vk, the aforementioned girl rushing in just after that with a panicked look, running into Uma’s arms and burying herself into Uma’s side.

“What’s going on!” Evie yelled as she ran in from the living room, Doug just behind her with wide fearful eyes as he looked at the magic dome blocking the windows and doors.

“Audrey trapped us, Mal do you got a spell or something for this!?” you grunted as you slammed your shoulder into the patio doors, rubbing it as pain flared from a particularly hard smack.

Mal froze for a moment, trying to figure out a quick spell to get out of the castle when one finally came to mind “please work” Mal pleaded to herself, holding her hands out “You’ve caused my friends pain and fear/we’ve had enough, now disappear!” Mal went a twinge of pain run through her, mostly hitting her head as her hands sparked light blue with magic but nothing else happened “shit! I don’t think I can, I don’t have access to my magic anymore” Mal pressed her palm to her head as Uma looked down at her necklace, the ember within glowing along with her shell.

“What?!” you screeched, backing away from the door as the glass started to crack from the dome pressing on it “But you used a spell on the knights?!”

“I don’t know?! I think I connected to the ember or something?!” Mal grabbed onto Evie as the windows creaked with effort “what is she trying to do, kill us?!” Evie winced as the windows cracked, whelp, that’s fun, and hundreds of dollars down the drain to get those fixed.

Uma’s mind went back to when she and Mal had combined their magic to defeat the knights, and then remembered Mal had cast a spell with her, through the ember! Mal was right, she had connected with the ember! Uma stepped up to Mal, holding out her hand for Mal to take. Mal just looked at her confused and scared.

“Together,” Uma said forcefully, shaking her hand a bit to encourage Mal to take it “like with the knights, our magic together can overpower it.” Mal looked relieved at the idea and took Uma’s hand, the ember blazing bright blue as she did and their hands glowed teal-blue. Uma and Mal nodded at each other once before turning towards the patio doors, focusing on the dome just outside.

Uma’s eyes glowed turquoise as Mal’s glowed yellow, and her hair moved like fire once again. “You’ve caused our friends pain and fear/we’ve had enough, now disappear!” Uma squinted as the ember and her shell burst out in a bright show of light and another glow burst out from her and Mal’s conjoined hands and flowed out towards the rest of the house and the patio doors. The dome shattered with the burst and they were free. Uma and Mal’s hands dropped and separated, the ember within Uma’s necklace dimming from its lost connection with Mal.

Both Uma and Mal let out a slow breath, their shoulders dropping in relief as the tenseness from being trapped released. “you did it” Evie breathed out, looking relieved that her doors or windows didn’t shatter

“Nice, now get me the hell outta here” you grumbled, moving to push the doors open and gasping as you saw the boys running towards the house, with both Ben and Jane. “It’s the boys!”

The other girls followed you and Mal ran to Ben, Uma colliding with Gil as you ran into Harry's arms, slowing down as you noticed his sluggishness. “Harry” you breathed, gently squeezing his torso before pulling back to examine him “what’s wrong, did you get hurt?”

He just nodded, stumbling a bit as his supports named Gil and Jay had gone to make sure the rest of the girls were okay “aye, Audrey sent some stone statues at us, one of ‘em got me pretty good, it’s mostly healed though, Jane had some enchanted lake water” you nodded at Jane in thanks and she nodded back, leaning on Gil’s arm as he introduced her to Uma properly.

Uma caught your gaze and gasped, seeing the slices on Harry's shoulder as he pulled his hand away. She raced over to him and laid her hand on top of the shallow cuts and muttered a healing spell, focusing on the rips in the fabric of his shirt and jacket as well. A moment later Harry was fully healed and his clothes were fixed as well, he also looked as if he had renewed energy. He pulled Uma into a hug and thanked her, the sea witch nodding and patting his arm to tell him to let her go.

Mal was making sure Ben was okay, pursing her lips at his fuzzy face and fangs “Are you okay?” she asked concerned, knowing one of his greatest fears was turning into a beast. Ben smiled and shrugged.

“I am now” he hummed, giving Mal a reassuring pat on the arm “hey it’s okay, I was scared at first but-I’m not now, I’m not a beast, Im just” he gestured to himself “fluffy” Mal looked unconvinced but let it go, they didn’t have time to argue over Ben brushing his problems away when they were clearly important.

Ben looked over to Uma, looking slightly surprised to see her “Now where the hell have you been?” Uma just looked sheepish as Gil and Harry pouted at her. “wait lemme guess” Ben pointed at you as you snuck behind Harry “(y/n)s been hiding you at your request?”

“How in the hell did you guess that?” Uma said surprised, her eyes wide. Ben just shrugged.

“I know (y/n) and that is exactly something she would do, and knowing you from Harry and Gil, that is also something you would do” Uma turned to her boys, slightly surprised they seemed to talk about her that much. Harry and Gil just shrugged as Mal turned Ben’s attention to her.

“okay, so Uma found a clue in Audrey’s diary” Ben looked at Uma slightly disappointed that she had gone into Audrey’s private life like that but Mal quickly turned his attention to her again “I know I know, we’ll both apologize to her after this is all over, but now we think she may be in Fairy cottage, the one her mom was hidden in when she was a kid, do you have any idea where it may be?” Ben nodded, wringing his hands a bit.

“yeah, she took me there every fairy godmothers day…speaking of FG’s where is FG?” Mal, Evie, (y/n), Jay, Celia, Carlos, and Hadie all looked uncomfortable at that.

“uh, she got turned to stone” Hadie muttered, kicking away a stone at Jane and Ben’s shocked looks. “we were trying to get the wand and I suppose Audrey found out and stopped us before she could get it.” Ben nodded solemnly turning back to Mal, who gave him a sad smile. Ben took a deep breath and went into king mode, turning to Doug and Gil.

“Doug, Gil” the two looked up slightly surprised at his authoritative tone “go with Jane, find FG, I know she stone right now but knowing her exact location would be good” Mal went to say she was at the museum but stopped as Ben continued to talk “then get the wand just in case, Jane should be able to access it” He looked to Jane for confirmation and she nodded, looking sure she could control its magic this time around. “and if we do fail in defeating the scepter, you’ll be our last hope.” everyone nodded, the tension rising in the area as you all realized you were all heading into a final battle situation, where the stakes were high and death was probable. “good luck, take the bikes if you need to” at that Carlos opened the garage to reveal Harry and Gil’s new motorbikes, to which Gil and Jane climbed on his and Harry quietly threatened Doug to not ruin his.

Soon the three were off into the setting sun, Mal biting her lip as she remembered Beasts words on the deal ‘return the scepter and the crown to the museum at sunrise, or the barrier will be closed for good’

Ben intertwined their hands, seeming to know what Mal was thinking about, she gave him a watery smile and they turned to go back into Evie's place for a moment to make a quick plan with everyone before they all headed out.

-end of p7-

part 7 yall!!!! hoped you liked it!!! i really like how the beast ben part turned out along with Mals apology and the scene just after that :3

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rewrite taglist

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[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE BLOOD Vol.5: Mukami Yuma [Track 9+10]

Original title: どうでもいい & オレが噛み砕いてやる

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol. 5: Mukami Yuma [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: I survived another More, Blood CD...but I’m not sure if the same can be said about the MC in this one, oof. All of these early era CDs end in a super vague way where you can’t really tell if she ends up living or dying from blood loss. The latter seems more likely but logic doesn’t apply to the DL universe most of the time. :p I did enjoy translating this one because I just love the way Yuma talks. I used to struggle with him the most in terms of translating, but I’ve finally found a style I’m comfortable with and now he’s one of my favorite characters to translate for. 

Track 1+2 ll Track 3+4 ll Track 5+6 ll Track 7+8 ll Track 9+10

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

TRACK 9: Whatever

*Rustle rustle*

“Fuck...I didn’t approach ya with this intention but...The more I suck yer blood...the better it becomes...Haah...I see...Right...I can just suck ya completely dry...then hand over yer empty, withered body to him. Hehe~ Aren’t I a genius? ...Ya think so too, don’t ya?”

*Smack smack*

[00:50] “Oi...Are ya listenin’? ...Ahn? Ya want to remain mine as well, don’t ya?”

*Rustle*

“Ah...Fuck...I’m thirsty again...The fuck’s goin’ on? This is bad...Did I get bewitched by yer blood as well?”

*Rustle rustle*

*Thud*

“Haah...Ughーー”

*RIIIIIIP*

“Haah...I bet you’re hidin’ even delicious blood somewhere, aren’t ya? Show me...!”

*RIIIIIP*

“Ughーー! Where is it!? Show it to me...!!”

*Sniff*

[01:44] “Haah...Smells great...Yer back smells lovely too...Aah...Your blood is more fragrant...than any perfume out there...”

He starts licking your back.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Haah...I can taste it even through your skin...Hahn...Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

[02:26] “...I’m ashamed of myself...I’m actin’ like a starved dog right now...”

You beg for his fangs.

“Hehe...Aahー I don’t mind plungin’ my fangs in right away but the nerves here are really sensitive, ya know?”

*Rustle rustle*

[02:49] “Am I gonna go mad after I’ve indulged in every drop of blood flowin’ through your veins...? In that case, I want to take my time and savor the taste of yer blood for as long as I can...”

*Rustle*

“Mmh...Nn...Yer body is seriously sweet...This is messed up...Were ya made to be a Vampire trap or somethin’...?”

*Sluuuuurp*

[03:26] “I bet they got pushed ‘round by ya like this as well, didn’t they? In that case, they might be feelin’ relieved now that they’ve finally been freed from ya...Or perhaps they’re already frantically lookin’ to get ya back?”

*Rustle*

“But...Haahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Aah...Hah...I won’t give ya up...Not to anyone...You belong to me. Don’t ya dare offer yer body to any other guy. Haah...”

*Sluuuuurp*

[04:14] “I see...All these dirty marks left across yer body are proof of possession, aren’t they? Hehe...Now it all makes sense. ...You’ve had all these guys leave their mark on ya from head to toe, yet you’re still not satisfied? Haha...What a greedy girl ya are. Ya disgust me.”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Hnnー!”

*Sluuuuurp*

[05:01] “Ugh...Haah...!! Haah, haah...It has started flowin’ out...The blood from here...is really sweet too...How to put it...? Like a fruit...It oozes out like juice the moment you bite down...Haahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Hah...Mmh...Nn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

[05:36] “Aahー!! It coats the inside of my mouth...Seepin’ inside my body...Haah...This shit’s dangerous...One sip is enough to completely ruin ya...However, the moment ya get a taste, you’re done for...Haah...I don’t even want to imagine havin’ to go back to drinkin’ any other blood...Ahー For some reason...I no longer give a damn ‘bout anythin’ else.

[06:25] ...I want you...I want your blood...oh-so badly...I don’t know what to do with myself...I bet ya want me to mess ya up real good with my fangs as well, don’t ya...? I can tell that yer whole bein’...that yer blood is seekin’ me out...wantin’ me to bite ya all over...until ya drown in me...”

TRACK 10: I’ll Rip You Up With My Fangs

*Rustle*

“Haah...Twist your body more...Writhe around...tryin’ to lure me in...Come on. Where do ya want it next? Haah...Look at ya lyin’ there pantin’ while havin’ a guy hover over ya...Haha...It’s hilarious...”

*Rustle*

[00:39] “At this rate...I might end up devourin’ ya whole...I must have a few screws loose as well...It’s all yer fault tho’...Aren’t ya infected with some weird virus or somethin’...? One that makes Vampires grow exceptionally attached to ya...”

*Rustle*

“Well then...Where do ya want my fangs next? I’ll plunge them right in...Deeply...Down to the very core...”

*Rustle*

Yuma bites you again.

“Mmhーー!!”

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Aah...”

*Rustle*

[01:49] “I sunk my fangs into yer lower back...Hehe, bet ya can no longer even tell where I’m bitin’, can ya? Hah...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Nnh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmph...Nn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Hah...Ughーー!!”

*Rustle rustle*

[02:24] “Oi...Say somethin’...If it feels good or not...I don’t want to feel like I’m gettin’ it on with some lifeless doll after all. Ah...?”

*Rustle*

“Oi...���

*Smack smack*

“Hehe...Guess you’ve really had all the energy sucked out of ya, huh? Oi, we’re not done yet. Haah?”

*Rustle*

[02:52] “Ugh...Haah...Not yet...Don’t lose consciousness just yet...Give me every single drop of yer blood...I’m still nowhere near satisfied...Neither are ya, am I wrong?”

*Rustle*

“ So...don’t be slouchin’ just yet...Ya can still offer more blood, can’t ya? Ah? Oi...Look this way.”

You turn your head towards Yuma.

“Exactly...Look at me....”

*Rustle rustle*

[03:28] “Come on, keep yer eyes on me. It’s much better than havin’ yer blood sucked while we can’t see each other’s faces, right? Hehehe...Chicks always want it their way after all...”

*Rustle*

[03:47] “Your body’s all twisted and turned...Ahー But I no longer care whether ya make it out alive or not...For some reason, the thought of havin’ some other guy runnin’ away with ya makes me burn with anger.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Mmh...”

Yuma bites you once more.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Hahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Haah...Am I bein’ stubborn...? But if that means I get to keep ya all to myself...then I don’t give a damn...”

*Rustle rustle*

[04:45] “I’m just so parched...I want yer blood and that’s the only thing I give a flyin’ fuck ‘bout...If I have to hand ya over to someone else...I might just destroy everything and everyone ‘round me...Hahaha...Haah...Yer blood’s hella scary...I never thought I’d say these kind of things...Ya might not expect it, but I consider myself to be a pacifist. Gardenin’ is my hobby. Aah...If only you were one of the vegetables in my garden, then I could gobble ya up and just grow ya again afterwards...But I guess life isn’t that easy, huh?”

*Rustle*

[05:59] “I have no other choice...So I’ll love ya plenty, seekin’ ya out...As long as yer blood is this incredibly sweet at least...Haahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Nn...Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

*Rustle*

*Sluuuuurp*

[06:48] “Leavin’ bite after bite...Until I’ve ripped ya apart with my fangs...There might be nothin’ of ya left by the end, but that’s what ya want, isn’t it...?”

*Rustle*

[07:08] “It’s written all over yer face...That ya want me...Want me to crave ya like this...Come on...Submit yerself to me...I’ll make ya feel amazing.”

*Rustle*

“Haahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

ーー THE END ーー 

[abraxos-the-phantom]

Scum Disciple Deleted

-scenes. Here you go @vodkassassin. Unformatted and mostly unedited save for some awkward phrasing I fixed as I skimmed through it. I have a habit of merely taking out scenes rather than straight deleting them when I don't think they work out so if you see it on the fic shhh I probably just found a better place for it, but for the most part I think these are unused

TLJ + MF; Flashback/Illusion

[Log: File:Save_??-???.?.????.log]

“You know, for a man so keen on maintaining the preference of a dignified cultivator, you are fairly quick to disband such things as you see fit,” Tianlang-jun mused.

Ming Fan threw a dirty look to the former Overlord of the Demonic Realm over his bowl of beef stir fry lily bulbs. It was a specialty in this region, boasting a sweet lily bulb due to the length of time the farmers around the area spent cultivating the plant. In other words, it was delicious and a welcome change to the guilt trip galore that was eating Lou Binghe’s cooking.

Oh to eat that delicious snow congee without feeling the compulsion to throw it all back up-

Well, no use dwelling on such things.

“Most of anything could be considered vulgar when in close proximity to you,” Ming Fan quipped, taking a generous helping of the stir-fry between his chopsticks. “If you had as much sensibility as you had sensuality, I guarantee that people would be more fond of you. Unfortunately, it is too late for me.”

“Hoh? Is that so?” Tianlang-jun’s lips curled in a smirk in spite of the fact that Ming Fan had no interest looking his way, regardless of the other demon happened to do. Some odd five or so years have taught Ming Fan that there were times when the best move for dealing with the other was simply ignoring him.

Ming Fan maintained his bland tone as he briefly paused to speak, “Yes.”

Tianlang-jun shook his head, “Honestly. Are all disciples of Cang Qiong like you, or are you just the special one.”

Said disciple only gave Tianlang-jun a significant dirty look, “You’d have to actually behave yourself to get to know another disciple of Cang Qiong.”

“Eh,” the Heavenly Demon leaned back against his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. “Too boring.”

Ming Fan made a noncommitting sound as he finally ate the last of his order, letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“Ming Fan, a question if you are so gracious enough to grant me such a thing.”

Ming Fan only raised a brow, “You may ask, whether I answer is not on the table.”

“Why?” Tianlang-jun paused as he attempted to think about his question. “Why do you maintain this relationship of ours? It’s not as if you’re on any obligation to maintain basic relations for a political reason, and you hardly ask me anything so you aren’t after my wisdom. With Lou Binghe going in and out Cang Qiong Sect, it’s not as if I can threaten your Sect any more than I could try and fight with my son.”

Ming Fan crossed his arms, humming for a moment tilting his head just enough to convey thoughtfulness he turned to look the demon lord in the eye, “If you were to be confronted with a former enemy of a war without meaning, what would you do?”

Tianlang-jun hummed, “I wouldn’t care.”

“Exactly,” Ming Fan pointed out. “Now what would you do if you discovered you were on the wrong side of that war?”

“…I still wouldn’t care.”

“Would you?” Ming Fan hummed, “Well, that’s your choice.”

“So is that all? You pity me?”

“Not quite,” Ming Fan shrugged, idly arranging the finish plate on the table. “More like my recompense of sorts.”

Tianlang-jun’s expression was unreadable as he stared, quietly adding, “You realize that I’ve killed hundreds of cultivators like you. Your age, younger- older. It didn’t matter, they were obstacles in my path and I removed them.”

“Of that I do not doubt, but these days- the line between righteous and mad is thin,” Ming Fan snorted. “I stand at the meager in-between myself. But what else can I do? I am but a mere mortal, attempting to right his wrongs.”

Ming Fan took a final sip at his tea, “Sometimes, that is all one can do without going well and truly mad.”

Tianlang-jun chuckled, “I suppose that’s true.”

The hours seemed endless after that, a moment in time felt like hundreds upon billions as the two simply- existed.

“So,” Tianlang-jun said after an eternity’s moment. “What are you doing here Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan blinked, “Is this not one amongst our many meetings?”

The world seem to blur around him like ink amongst a pool of water. Fading into implied images as the sky and trees distorted. The sounds of the earth quieted to a hushed whisper. Ming Fan’s eyes casted around in confusion as the lively village dulled into a dead silence.

“It isn’t,” Tianlang-jun leaned back, smirking. “You’ve spent so long with me that I am now here with you- in limbo. I’m flattered Fan-er.”

Ming Fan narrowed his eyes, scowling, before looking away, “Definitely. Tianlang-jun never called me that to my face.”

Ming Fan twisted away from the…demon for some time to think.

TLJ + MF - Actual Flashback

“You look like you went a round and three more with a golem,” Tianlang-jun tsked at him.

“Are you going to lecture me about coming out while I look like I lost against said golem or are you going to sit your ass down and have some tea like we agreed?” Ming Fan snapped, wincing as he sat.

Tianlang-jun whistled wolfishly. “Why, I never took that War God to be the kinky type.”

“Don’t be so obscene,” Ming Fan rolled his eyes. “He landed me flat on my ass almost a dozen times. Of course sitting down would be a pain.”

“You know there’s this flower that-“

“No.”

“But I hurt just looking at you,” Tianlang-jun whined like a particularly annoying brat. “One tiny little adventure to look for a flower that heals bruises instantly, it’s a Lotus of a blue hue, I hear those people from the far West have been using it for some time.”

“And then Liu Qingge will have me spar against him, again, and this hellish circle will repeat itself. I am only saved by the fact that my cultivation is not as advanced as one of a Peak Lords, otherwise I would be healed by the end of the week and my pain begins anew,” Ming Fan shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but no.”

“Aww, well since you’re being so polite about it…” Tianlang-jun sighed and sipped from the tea. “Mn- this is good. Where did you get it?”

“Shang-shishu taught me how to prepare lemon tea before the fruits go out of season, apparently there is a sweetened-cold version of this as well, but he has yet to refine the technicalities of the ingredients. I worry for him, he always seems so busy.”

“He looks like a rodent who accidentally ate a pepper, though I suppose in this case it would be a block of ice what with Mobei-jun being his lover and all.”

“I did wonder how that happened, and worried a brief time. An Ding Peak’s disciples had said that their master would occasionally come home bruised and barely able to walk, they were rearing to go to war with the Northern Demons far before everything else happened.” Ming Fan sighed, “Well, it isn’t any of my business. I’m sure they’re dealing with the situation in their own way.”

“True that, those An Ding Peak children…physically they are weak, but it is always the weaker ones that surprise you the most. Especially when angry,” Tianlang-jun smiled as he mused. “Afterall, hornets don’t seem like much at first glance. That Mobei-jun has his work cut out for him, ah, speaking of. What of those two? Surely the boy is tip-toeing these days.”

“He tends to keep to the bamboo house, and we tend to stay far away from the bamboo house, especially at night.” Ming Fan raised his hand to drink. “That is all I will say of the matter.”

Ming Fan sighed, rubbing a hand against his eyes, “I am getting far too old for this.”

“Oh please, you’re not even a century old.”

“Hm, and yet somehow I am still significantly more mature than you. Have you reached the regression stage of life Tianlang-jun? I must say, I’m rather peeved that it’s a mental deterioration rather than a physical one for you demons.”

“Hoh?” Tianlang-jun leaned forward, smirking. “Wish to test how youthful I can be Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan raised a hand idly pointing at the silks of Tianlang-jun’s clothes, startling the heavenly demon as he wondered just what the other had found on his clothes.

Then Ming Fan flicked up, hitting the former Demon Lord up the lip and under the nose, causing Tianlang-jun to recoil, sputtering from the unjust attack. The audacity.

“I’m sure you’d at least warm the bed,” He deadpanned, sipping at his tea without a care as Tianlang-jun sputtered indignantly.

NMJ/MF - Original Re-meeting for ch 52; added here for my convenience (cus i don't wanna make another post)

“Gather everyone who can fight!” One voice called. “Sect Leader Nie is being surrounded by a pack of hell hounds! They need help.”

Ming Fan was out and running before anyone could even blink- with only Liu Qingge and Tianlang-jun holding enough time to react by following him.

-

“Shit-“ Mingjue cursed, swinging around Bàxià to hurl one attacking hound over to the side. “Meng Yao- you alright?!”

“Could use-” Meng Yao grimaced as he had to back off to avoid the snapping jaws of another hound. “Some help.”

“Reinforcements should be on the way!” Mei Lin cursed venomously under her breath. “Just where the hell did all these damned dogs come from?!”

“We’re being overrun!” Lang Fengyi yelped as he narrowly avoided claws.

“Fuck-“ Mingjue gathered his energy, willing it to fill him once more. “Get ready to run! I should be able to distract them long enough to-“

“Don’t worry about that.”

The disciples of Nie turned to find a man arrogantly walking through the field, the hounds yipping in fear and running from him, as well as another man clad in white and silver who eyed the hounds back.

Tianlang-jun stood before the disciples of Qinghe Nie with a bright smile, “Relax now, everything will be fine.”

Liu Qingge huffed, drawing his sword, “Says you. We have to make sure he’s not overworking himself remember?”

There was a distant rumbling- an ominous presence that washed over them to the point where all the hounds began to shudder and shake in fear as they too yipped around fearfully.

Descend with great speed. Swift and merciless. Run my enemies. Leave none left alive. May death greet you well.

Formation formed.

Ming Fan dropped his sword with militaristic precision, tilting all the swords generated by his power towards the ground in varying angles.

Heavenly Wrath Formation.

Tianlang-jun looked up in the surprise, “Don’t tell me that’s-“

“It is,” Liu Qingge scowled.

“Who-“ Nie Mingjue began- before all hell broke loose.

Liu Qingge’s expression was thunderous as he swept past rows of demonic hounds, tilting on hand and waiting-

Another man dropped from the sky not a second later, catching Liu Qingge’s robes and righting him before swinging his legs on the man’s waist to get around and jab another hound in the back- Tianlang-jun was swift to join the fray, allowing the shorter cultivator to move around him to get at all the lucky hounds who managed to move away from Ming Fan’s deadly aim fast enough.

While Tianlang-jun added to the deadly partnership with his own flare, it was the pair of Ming Fan and Liu Qingge that showed the obvious years of partnership between them- for the two had years of spars and night hunts to guide their blades where they need be.

Heads flew, limbs joining them as the immortals of Cang Qiong Sect and Tianlang-jun of the Heavenly Demon Line slaughtered the feared and the rowdy- leaving those of Qinghe Nie in awe.

“..Wei…” Meng Yao said, knees beginning to grow weak. “Wei Fan?!”

The man abruptly froze, glancing towards their direction before seeming to move on instinct- the War God sensing the sudden change and using his arm to propel him outward, allowing the man to fly across the air and land his sword true through the skull of the hell hound that was just about to take a chunk from Nie Mingjue’s side.

Ming Fan, not upset as he was, barked at them venomously, “Just what do you think you’re doing?! Fucking move! You’re in a battle field! Fight damn you! Are you not of Qinghe Nie?!”

“Teacher Wei!” Mei Lin cried- openly actually, crying.

“Oh for the love of-“ Ming Fan cursed. “I’ll take your crying and yelling and cursing later, lift your sabres and fight!”

“Xiao-Fan!”

Ming Fan turned, grunting as he launched his sword in the Heavenly Demon’s direction and skewering the hound. “What?!”

“Lower your blood pressure!”

Ming Fan felt his blood pressure rise out of sheer spite. “Fuck you!”

“A-Fan,” Liu Qingge growled. “You just performed one of the most powerful formations while silent. Calm down.”

“I can’t!” Ming Fan caught himself with a scowl. “But I’m not upset!”

“For the love of-“ Liu Qingge turned to Tianlang-jun. “Can you handle the rest?”

“Yeah I got it,” Tianlang-jun batted away a hound with his bare fist. “Just take care of our pissed off little horse first.”

Liu Qingge wasted no time, grabbing the now fuming Ming Fan, his nose beginning to trickle with a line of blood and generally causing the already shocked disciples of Qinghe Nie to panic.

“Hey,” Liu Qingge’s voice was soft as it was firm. “Calm down. Calm. That’s not a request.”

“I’m trying,” Ming Fan hissed. “You try doing this in the middle of battle.”

“Alright back up plan,” Liu Qingge turned to the still shocked Nie Mingjue. “You. Make yourself useful. He needs a distraction.”

“Wha-“

Liu Qingge shoved Ming Fan into Nie Mingjue, the taller man abruptly catching the man by the waist to steady him before something else caused him to loose balance.

Forgot one: Deleted Extra feat. Yang Yixuan + MF; written with it's og formatting since notes preserved my italics somehow

Cold wind swept past the ravine.

Shaking trees and rustling branches provided the background noise for the twittering creatures who lived in the back mountains. Within this quiet land was a surrounding of high elevation mountains spanning all around the mountain side.

There, Ming Fan sat quietly. Watching the creatures bellow- there were no humans for miles save for those few people within the Ancient Sect, and they were hardly just human anymore.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get off your ass.”

Ming Fan stiffened.

Yang Yixuan’s arms were cross across his breast, idly looking down from the view of Qing JIng Peak.

The landscape had changed much since Ming Fan had last come here, it was greener. With the trees far taller than when Ming Fan had last seen them, the older trees cut down by the ravages of war and time- but new ones taking their place. The silence too, was new. With no disciples Cang Qiong Mountain was a far quieter place than it had been during the height of its Sect Years. Some ascended, some peacefully settling into their next life, and some sticking around. Going to and fro the place carrying out errands and enacting a firm hand where the average Cultivator could not handle. The war had put a damper on such things, what with their stance of neutrality, bu it was no less somewhat of a sobering surprise that those of Cang Qiong Mountain had seen what was happening and judged it would be better to remain quiet.

He knew why of course, it was more practical in the long run for a mythical Sect, they were not here to force the future into their own hands- merely to counter the monsters of the yester years. Still. He wondered.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically here it,” the former head disciple of Bai Zhan peak, the former Peak Lord himself, continued with a raised brow. “You’re normally quick to empty your mind and dump it onto others.”

Ming Fan scoffed softly, “Normal is a poor basis to use to pass judgement at the moment, even a Bai Zhan Peak buffoon like you should realize such.”

“…”

Ming Fan pursed his lip, anger simmering.

Settle.

Settle.

Settle.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He said softly, allowing his fist to slack from their death-like grip.

“You just lost your brohter,” Yang Yixuan said bluntly. “You were a raving asshole when Liu-shifu dragged you here. Pretty much spat at Luo Binghe’s feet and insulted just about everyone.”

Ming Fan restrained the urge to flinch at every word.

“I’d be more than a little troubled if you didn’t act like that after losing your brother.” Yang Yixuan continued with a shake of his head. “It’s good to know that our illustrous Ming Fan is still a human.”

“Have I not proven that time and time again?”

“Dunno,” Ming Fan turned his head, the Bai Zhan Peak’s former sole disciple’s voice turning uncharacteristically soft. “You were doing a pretty good impression of acting like an immortal before.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

Stiches, Part 2

A/N: Yep, I’ve ventured off the Marvel path and penned a few tales for The Witcher! 

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut

Stiches Part 1 

Consciousness came slowly, like sunlight filtering through a thick fog. Warmth surrounded your heavy limbs and when you tried to move, a delightful pang registered in the muscles of your inner thighs. A low moan slipped passed your lips as the ache between your legs caused a flood of images from the night before to crash across your mind.

You told the traveling Witcher you wanted to feel him for days after he left. The man took you at your word. Playing your body with the mastery of a hundred years of practice, Geralt assured your cunt stayed swollen and wet as he fucked you thoroughly, roughly, and repeatedly.

“Stay put,” a deep gravely voice rumbled against your ear. A strong arm pulled you tighter to his bulk. “I am not ready to awaken yet.”

You turned in his arms to bury your face in the hair of his chest. Your knee easily slipped between his thighs as his legs tangled with your own. His large hand settled at the back of your neck, and you felt his deep sigh. His weighty and lax body wrapped around yours. His half hard cock pressed into you belly. Despite fatigue, your hand moved between you to wrap around his length.

“Hmm.” Geralt pumped into your palm once before pulling your hand away and pressing your palm to his lips. “Sleep now, my dove.” He chuckled lightly. “Later I shall plow you like the fields of wheat in Novigrad.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you nuzzled into his chest and succumbed to the warmth, drifting off to sleep again.

Darkness enveloped the world. The warmth surrounding you turned your limbs numb, preventing you from moving away from the wailing in your ears. Harsh and painful, the sound clawed at your mind brought you to panic. You needed to run, needed to flee, but you couldn’t move. Not even a sound came forth as you tried to scream. The source of the wail pulled at you, ripping into your chest, tearing the life from your breast.

Light flared. Fire seared your flesh. Breath rushed through your lungs and you screamed.

Hard rough hands shook you. A deep voice called your name. Your eyes popped open to see Geralt on his knees over you, gripping your shoulder hard. Shock left your heart beating like a galloping horse. Cold steel brushed against your hand and you realize his sword lay beside you.

With another shake he said your name, scowling. “Are you with me? Why do you have a Hym attached to you?”

“What?” You looked up at him. “I, um, I have nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Geralt’s jaw clenched. He let you go, sitting back to lean on the headboard and place his sword beside the bed. “No,” he huffed. “A hym has attached itself to you. What have you done?”

You sat up, pulling the blanket up with you. “What? I have not-“

“Don’t lie to me.” Geralt large hand grasped your jaw. You never saw him move. He was just suddenly holding you down, growling in your face. “Hyms only feed upon the guilty. What have you done?”

A tightness gripped your throat, but it wasn’t Geralt’s hand. Tears burned your eyes. “I don’t know.”

He released your jaw, but didn’t let you go. He pulled you upon his lap.  “Tell me of the creature in your nightmares. Is it just in your dreams, or does it whisper to you while awake?”

“Just nightmares.” You twisted your fingers in the blanket. “They come once, maybe twice, a week.”

“I suspect,” he tilted his head to look at your downcast face. “That is the only time you allow yourself to sleep soundly.” You nodded. He took a deep breath, running his fingertips down your spine. “Hyms attach to persons holding onto guilt, great guilt. They feed on it, create a darkness in the person, so they can feed even more.”

Silent tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I can help you, little dove. I can defeat this thing, but you have to tell me.” The warmth of his large hands slipped up to rest upon the base of your neck. His voice rumbled low and deep, but it made you want you curl against him and weep.

“The spring after my husband was killed,” You sniffed and leaned into Geralt’s chest. “One of the smiths, Wallen, attempted to gain my favor. I turned him away, but he persisted. He became obsessive and abusive. I feared him and took great pains to never be alone with him.”

He remained silent, but his fingers began their journey over your back again.

“One day three men came to town. They were part of the raiders who attacked when my husband died. I knew they were dangerous, knew they would kill without remorse.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. Never before had you uttered the words, “I knew they were listening when I lied about a large commission Wallen had taken.”

Geralt nodded. “They killed him for riches he did not have.”

“I told myself, I just lied. I didn’t kill him. It was a little lie, that’s all.” You wept. “He was vile and mean. I could not push him away anymore. He attempt to...he nearly...I knew he would do worse than force me if he caught me alone. I was afraid.”

A single rueful huff erupted from his chest. Geralt pressed his lips to your hair. “Such feelings for nothing but a cunning solution to a problem.”

“But…”

“If this man came after you, and you held a blade, what would you do?”

“Use it.” You huffed.

“If he came after you, and you own attack hounds, what would you do?”

“I’d release them.” Your tears ceasing.

“So all you did, my dove, is release the dogs you had at your disposal.” Geralt pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin below your ear. His tongue slipped along the edge of your ear before he nipped at it lightly. “Now that you have spoken of it, the hym can be fought.”

“How?” You turned your face into his neck.

“Tonight you will take me to where the Smithy was killed.” He felt you stiffen, but he shifted you in his hold to tuck you closer to his chest. “You can. You will. The hym will come to you. Then I will kill it.”

“How do you kill a nightmare?” You asked in a small voice.

“I’m a Witcher.” He chuckled. “Or had you forgotten?”

“No,” you quietly laughed. “How could I?”

“Then tonight I shall slay your monster.” His hand tipped your head up. His breath washed over your lips.

“But I have no coin to give you.” You fought not to smile.

“Then we shall have to barter.” Geralt’s mouth possessed yours, drawing a delicious moan from you. He tossed away the offending blanket, and moved you to straddle his lap. Your fingers tangled in his white hair. As your tongues battled, his hands encircled your waist and he rocked you against him. Your breasts raked over his chest.  

Still sensitive from the night’s amorous activities, you grew wet against his hardening cock. You nipped and kissed along his neck. “Gods, you feel so good.”  

He only grunted, as his rough hand squeezed your breast, thumb rubbing over your taunt nipple. With a fluid movement, he flipped you both. You landed on your back. Geralt hooked your knees over his arms. Leaning forward he trailed love bites down your chest.

“So sweet.” He hummed against the soft skin of your inner thigh. The scruff of his chin grazed your sensitive clit and you gasped. Geralt laid the flat of his tongue over you, soothing you, teasing you. “Do you need rest, my dove?”

“No.” You panted, fingers twisting in his hair.

“What is it you want?” His voice vibrated through your body.

“Fuck me.” You breathed.

He chuckled, crawling up your body, painting a trail with his mouth. When his cock pressed against your slick core, he kissed you hard, burying himself deep. His groan mixed with your moan. Unlike the night before, he moved slow and deliberate. The length of him moving in and out at such a pace that your breath became one, the tension coiled, and heat spread.

“Yes,” you clung to his shoulders, legs wrapping tightly around his hips. His fingers dug deep into the meat of your ass, holding you tight. His weight pressing into you and the scent of his sweat filling your head, you lost yourself in him.

His pace quickened. Your body tightened. You curled your hips up. His hips snapped, cock hitting you perfectly. Your thighs shook. His grunts mingled with your cries. Geralt pounded into you with force. You dug your nails into his back, coming hard. He growled, following you.

You held on with weak limbs, relishing in the feel of him. He rolled and pulled you along with him. Your fingers trailed down his side, feeling the stitched you placed there just the day before. Lifting up, you checked his wound. It was pink, but looked a week old.

“Told you I heal quickly.” Geralt sighed.

“Good thing,” you settled into the crook of his arm. “I’d hate to aggravate an injury before you go monster slaying again.”

He huffed. “It would be worse if you sent me off hungry.”

You laughed, sitting up. His eyes were closed and a relaxed smile was on his face. “I think I can manage to satisfy your appetite.”

Geralt’s golden eyes met yours, glinting with mirth. “You’re definitely doing that, but what about food?”

Soon the two of you were dressed and seated at your favorite table in front of the fire. The inn owner, Rulla, thankfully did not comment as you immerged from the Witcher’s room. She just gestured to your table and followed with a pitcher of ale and cups.

“About time. I suppose you’re hungry.” Her reproachful words did not match the teasing smile on her lips. When Geralt grunted an agreement, she wondered off to quickly return with a large platter. Unloading bowls of stew, loaves of bread, and a large plate of cured meat and dried fruit.

Your stomach grumbled, realizing for the first time how famished he’d made you. Geralt tore off a piece of bread and began to eat with purpose. He did everything with purpose; eating, fucking, monster killing.

By the time this Witcher moved on, he would not only leave you well bedded, but free of your nightmares. You smiled, feeling better than you had in ages.    

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My Masterlist

[seasonofthewicth]

candlelit cabin

prompt: Pretend boyfriend/girlfriend for family Christmas party. I took this prompt and ran with it. rowaelin 4.5k

“Rowan, please. Hear me out.”

Aelin positions herself in the doorway to their kitchen with a hand to his chest, blocking his way so he’s forced to hear her out. The cotton of his worn t-shirt is soft against her fingertips and she longs to twist her fingers into the fabric and pull him close. 

Rowan rolls his eyes but brings his hand up to cover hers against his chest. “Go on.”

She grins. She’s known Rowan for long enough now, lived with him for a few years too, to know that she’s going to get her way. 

At first, the shared apartment had been frosty, with them both avoiding the shared spaces when they knew the other was in there. Aelin had moved in with him because she had known him through mutual friends from college, who had verified that he wasn’t a serial killer, and he had a spare room that she needed. 

Now, Rowan Whitethorn is quite possibly her favourite person on earth. 

“You know Aedion just got engaged.” Aelin presses her other hand to his chest, working the puppy-dog eyes to help her case. 

Rowan nods with his eyebrows raised, this isn’t news to him. The announcement card has been pinned to their fridge for a few weeks. “Yeah, so?”

“So, my parents are going to be on me all week about when I’m going to settle down, and in my opinion; it’s Christmas. I’m already bummed enough about being single, I don’t need them constantly bringing it up, but anyway, that’s where you come in.”

For as long as she can remember her parents have hosted Christmas in their cabin in the Staghorns. So much so that she can’t think of the holiday period without thinking of the wooden-walled cabin, with it’s rustic fireplaces and grounds full of pine trees. 

She can almost smell the mulled wine her mum cooks over the stove, the way her fingers would smell of orange for hours after chopping the fruit for her mum to throw in. Some of her best memories are from the cabin, and Lorcan can tease her all he wants, calling her a spoiled princess, but it’s not like she doesn’t know how lucky she is. 

It’s also not like he’s never made use of her generosity when it comes to his anniversaries with Elide. 

Rowan winces at her words and her natural response is to grin up at him where he cringes away, already knowing where she’s going. He can almost read her mind at this point. 

“Rowan Whitethorn, fake-boyfriend-extraordinaire.”

“Aelin, you know I’d do anything for you,” He starts, and Aelin’s heart takes off at the words. 

It’s a well established fact, for everyone apart from him, that she’s in love with her best friend. She’s dealing with it. 

Sharing an apartment with him makes it difficult to ignore how attractive she finds him, in his suit dressed for work and in his pyjamas on lazy Sunday nights. He always looks incredible. 

In the years she’s known him he’s only gotten better looking. From the lanky teenager she met in her first year of college Rowan has matured from a boy to a man. A man Aelin is very attracted to. 

She’s always acknowledged his attractiveness, but since moving into his apartment she has found herself more and more drawn to him. His voice, his smile, the way he makes her a coffee in the morning and leaves sweet treats on the counter for her from the bakery near his office. 

But he’s never hinted he wants anything more from her than friends. Again, she’s dealing with it. 

Rowan is still speaking, and it drags her out of her daze. “But I seriously doubt your parents would believe that I was your boyfriend that you hadn’t told them about.”

Rowan is wrong. So wrong. Evalin and Rhoe have made an endless number of comments about the two of them over the years. Her parents adore Rowan, almost as much as Aelin herself, and so far Aelin has managed to quell their hopes. Taking Rowan as her fake-boyfriend to the cabin is most definitely a bad idea, only adding fuel to her parents’ fire, but she’s desperate. 

“Ro, please.” She’s not above actually begging. She leans further into the hands pressed against his chest and she knows as he bites his lip she’s won. 

“Fine,” He sighs. “But I’m not driving.”

“We can do half each?” She offers and he only rolls his eyes again, but he’s smiling and she leans up to press a peck to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” She says. “I love you, seriously.”

She doesn’t think she’s imagining the blush on his cheeks as he grumbles and uses the back of his hand to wipe her kiss off. 

-- 

“Rowan, take the bed.”

“Aelin, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed in your own house.”

She sighs. They’re at a stalemate. 

They’re standing on opposite sides of the bed, both dressed for bed, and she’s ignoring how good he looks. He’s wearing a pair of soft-looking green flannel pyjama pants and a grey t-shirt. Simple, but it’s really working for him.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine on the floor. It’s carpet.”

Rowan looks anguished. “No. I don’t see why I can’t take the spare room like I do every time I come here.”

“My parents aren’t stupid. Every time you’ve come here before we’ve just been friends. We need them to believe this.”

She gestures between the two of them. Her parents had greeted them upon their arrival at the cabin. Aelin had managed to persuade Rowan to drive the whole way, she knew she would, and her parents had been waiting on the doorstep when Rowan pulled the car up outside the cabin. 

They had been wearing matching expressions of glee, and Aelin saw Rowan visibly steel himself before stepping out of the car. 

The introduction hadn’t been a big deal, her parents have met Rowan a number of times before, but never as Aelin’s boyfriend. Aelin thinks it went pretty well and that her parents likely don’t doubt their story. She’s again ignoring why that could be. 

Rowan crosses his arms across his broad chest and Aelin forces herself to concentrate.

“They could just think I’m being polite,” He tries to argue and Aelin shoots him an unimpressed look. 

“Here’s a radical idea,” She says. “Why don’t we just share. The bed is easily big enough for the two of us, we’ve shared a bed before.”

Rowan scoffs. “Yeah, when we were both blackout drunk. Do you even remember that night?”

Yes. In great detail. “No, but it will be fine.”

Rowan releases his arms from their place across his chest and Aelin knows she’s won. “Okay.”

Aelin fights her smile. 

“I can still take the floor.” 

Aelin sighs and pulls her side of the duvet back, “Just get in the bed.”

-- 

It is not fine. 

Aelin thinks it’s probably been about half an hour since she got into the bed and she is still staring at the ceiling, wide awake. Rowan’s breathing has been quiet and even for a while, he’s probably fast asleep. 

He’s so close, she can feel his warmth under the covers, but they aren’t touching. It would be so easy to reach her hand across the mattress and trail her fingertips up his arm until her hand was at his shoulder. It would be so easy to roll onto her side, throw her leg over his and rest her head on his chest. 

It would be so easy to kiss him. 

She sighs, frustrated again and feels the mattress shift at her side. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Rowan’s on his side now, facing her in the bed, but his eyes are still shut. 

Aelin rolls herself onto her side to face him, she allows herself to catalogue his whole face in the small beam of moonlight slipping in through the curtain. The silver of his eyebrows to the pink of his lips. Even in the darkness she can see the long sweep of his eyelashes and the slight dusting of stubble across his jaw. 

She’s so fucking in love with him.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” She retorts. 

“I can hear you thinking from here.”

Aelin laughs and Rowan’s eyes finally flash open, still so brightly green even in the dark. He grins back at her and she loses herself in the smile a little bit. 

“I’m not thinking about anything,” She says automatically and Rowan just nestles himself deeper into the pillow and waits. She melts at the sight. The vision of him tucked up in bed opposite her looking so relaxed is almost too much. “Okay, maybe I’m just thinking about how to sell this.”

“This?”

“Me and you, you know, deeply in love.”

Rowan huffs a laugh, deliciously deep and sleepy. “I don’t think we’ll have to do that much, what’s the difference between us and a couple anyway?”

Aelin thinks her heart stops beating. She clears her throat to restart it. “What do you mean?”

She hears the rustle of the duvet as he shrugs. “How does any couple differ from friends? Apart from people who are big on PDA, it shouldn’t be very different.”

“I don’t think you have to be big on PDA to act like a couple. Most couples, you know, hug, kiss, do couple-y stuff that’s different from us.”

“Right.” Rowan’s voice is soft in the darkness, and she wishes she could see more of his expression. 

“You probably will have to kiss me at some point this week.” 

Aelin didn’t mean to say that, definitely not, but it’s true. Her parents would think it was at least slightly unusual if Aelin never shared even a peck with her supposed boyfriend over Christmas. 

She hopes it’s dark enough that Rowan can’t see the fire in her cheeks. 

“Oh.”

His response really doesn’t give her a lot to go off. 

“You don’t have to,” She starts. “We could probably get away with it, I’d just tell them-”

“Aelin.” 

Aelin stops speaking. There’s something in his voice that halts her breath in her throat. 

“We should have practiced this,” He says. “We should have discussed this.”

Aelin frowns, somewhat defensive. “I thought you would have known, I mean, you’re coming here to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Rowan just breathes out a breath she thinks could be a laugh. “I know, I did know that. Now I’m just shitting myself at the thought of kissing you in front of your dad.”

Aelin laughs now, too loudly for the quiet of the night. 

“You can kiss me now if you want to get it out of the way, that way when you have to do it in front of my dad it will be no big deal.”

She’s joking. Or at least she hopes he thinks she is. 

Rowan is silent for a beat too long. 

“Really?” He asks.

Aelin tries to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, you’ll have to get ready to kiss me at some point. Unless I’m too hideous to even consider.”

“Aelin,” Rowan sounds pained. “You’re not hideous.”

“I know, I was joking.” She smiles hoping he can at least see that. “About that anyway.”

“Right. You don’t mind if I kiss you now? For practice.”

“Not at all. Kiss away, Buzzard.” 

If she makes enough jokes she can pretend her heart isn’t pounding in her chest as Rowan shifts closer. 

“Okay,” He says and Aelin’s entire body sets alight. 

He reaches out a hand to cup her cheek and Aelin wants to lean into his touch forever. She needs to remember every moment of this.

She wriggles closer to him, very much aware of the fact that they’re lying in bed together and he’s about to kiss her. 

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” He’s so close to her now that his breath washes across her face as he speaks. 

She wants him to pause, to hold on to let her catalogue every single moment of this but she nods, unable to find the words past the catch in her throat. 

“Okay,” She catches him whisper under his breath, mostly to himself, as she allows her eyes to flutter shut. 

Aelin holds herself almost painfully still as he presses his lips to hers in a feather-light touch. His lips are warm and soft against her own. 

He pulls back far too soon, only a millisecond later, but he doesn’t remove his hand from her cheek as she opens her eyes. 

She can’t find a single word to say, she never wants to leave this moment. Here in this dark room in the silence she wants to kiss him forever. 

Rowan is watching her silently, his eyes flicking up and down her face, from her eyes to her lips and back again. 

“Hi,” She whispers and he smiles. 

“Hi.”

His fingers flex on her cheek and she allows herself to bring a palm up to his shoulder. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. 

“Aelin,” He says, his voice hoarse. 

His eyes snap open, watching her, and he reads something on her face that has him drawing her face back to his. 

This kiss is different from the first. 

The first was tentative and unsure. Testing the waters. 

This kiss is tender and deep. Rowan takes his time with her, starting with a gentle press of his lips against her own before pressing harder against her. His hand shifts down from her face as he kisses her to wrap around her waist and tug her tighter to him. 

Aelin allows the hand on his shoulder to slip up and to slide through the silver strands of his hair. 

Rowan gasps at the touch and she slips her tongue into his mouth. 

He tastes of mint and Aelin wants more. She presses further into him, her breaths coming fast in gasps every time their lips part and return to each other. Rowan rolls onto his back and the arm around her waist pulls her with him. 

She’s half on top of him now, leaning up on an elbow with a leg thrown over his as she kisses him. His free hand comes up to twist through her hair and hold her face to his as he licks into her mouth. The sensation has her toes curling and she presses her hips into his side slightly. 

He lets out a groan and the sound shocks her back to reality. 

Aelin pulls back and takes a second to process the way they’re wrapped up in each other. She can’t help the laugh that escapes her as she presses her face into Rowan’s chest hiding her blush. His chest shakes against her and he’s laughing too as he wraps both of his arms around her in a hug. She feels him press a kiss to the top of her head and she allows herself to rest deeper into his chest. 

“Let’s get some sleep,” He says into her hair. 

-- 

Somehow she manages to drift off, with her hand stretched across the bed towards him. His fingers in the same place brushing against hers. 

Aelin wakes up before him in the morning and untangles herself before he has a chance to wake up and realise the position they’re in again. 

-- 

Aedion and Lysandra arrive in time for dinner and Aelin spends ten minutes in the kitchen with her friend screaming about the ring. She hasn’t seen them since they announced the engagement and she’s happy for the two of them, she really is, and she couldn’t be more excited about the wedding. 

Lysandra however, is far more interested in the story of Aelin and Rowan. 

“How long has this been going on?” Her friend hisses through a whisper. 

“Not long, it started about October.” 

They had arranged their story before they had left their apartment. They could keep the bulk of it pretty generalised, spinning a story about how they had both realised their feelings for each other and things had just progressed from friendship, but they had sorted out dates so not to trip up. 

Aelin shrugs when Lysandra grins, her eyes full of unadulterated glee. 

“And you kept this a secret from me because?” Lysandra demands. 

“I don’t know, it’s new. Don’t make a big deal.” 

“Don’t make a big deal?” Lysandra scoffs. “This is you and Rowan. I have been waiting for this for years.”

“No you haven’t.” Aelin is definitely blushing. 

“I have,” Lysandra nods dramatically. “Aedion too. We’ve discussed it.”

Aelin wants the ground to open up and swallow her. Aelin has been thinking about it for years, but she didn’t realise it had ever crossed anyone else’s mind. She doesn’t dare let herself consider the possibility that it has crossed Rowan’s mind.

“Stop,” is all she manages to say before they’re joined in the kitchen by Aedion and Rowan. Aedion sidles up around Lysandra and presses a kiss to her cheek as he wraps his arms around her waist. Aelin smiles at the display and feels Rowan rest his own hand at her hip. 

His hand is so warm and she leans back into his chest as Aedion and Lysandra smile at them. Rowan’s fingers flex on her hip and she looks up to see him smiling down at her. 

They haven’t discussed their kiss from last night, nor have they kissed again, but it feels good to have him here like this. It feels like it could be real. 

Aelin shakes the thought out of her head as her parents join them in the kitchen. 

Aelin’s mum has her hands pressed over her mouth at the sight of the two pairs. 

“Ah,” She sighs looking as if she could be about to cry. Aelin watches her dad lift a hand to her shoulder as he smiles at Aelin. 

“Look at all of you,” Aelin’s mum says. “Let me get a picture to remember.”

Evalin pulls out her phone and Aelin steps across to settle next to Lysandra and Aedion, still wrapped up in each other. She feels, rather than sees, Rowan follow. 

Evalin lifts the phone, but pauses. “Rowan, get closer to Aelin.” She waves her hand in the air, gesturing for him to step further into the frame. He does, but still pauses at her side. 

“Rowan, son,” Her dad begins with a grin. “It’s alright, you don’t have to be so proper.”

Aelin looks up to him in time to see him cover his wince with a brittle smile. When his eyes flicker down to her it softens and he slides his arm around her waist. It feels too good pressed into him like this, like he could hold her together, like he could hold her forever. 

She lifts her hand to rest it over his own at her side.

The warmth of his hand on her waist has her blood pumping faster, it’s like she’s a teen again. She’s never been so easily flustered by anyone since she was younger. No one has ever made her heart beat like Rowan does, no one has ever electrified her skin at their touch like he does. 

Aelin smiles back up at him, a little lost in his gaze. 

“Beautiful,” Aelin’s mum cries and the photo is taken. 

Aelin shakes herself and ignores her dad’s knowing look. Rowan’s hand is gone from her waist already and she misses it already. 

Inviting him here like this was a mistake. 

-- 

Later she spies her mum’s phone on the side and sneaks onto it to send the photo to herself. Aedion and Lysandra are grinning sweetly at the camera, but the sight of herself and Rowan takes her breath away. 

She’s wrapped up in his arms as he looks down at her. The smiles they wear as she looks up at him are a little dreamy, both too lost in each other to realise the photo is being taken. She’d believe it was real. 

She wishes it was. 

-- 

They don’t talk about the kiss. And beyond brief kisses to her cheek when presents are exchanged, they don’t kiss again. 

Aelin is a little disappointed, and a little silly. Maybe it wasn’t necessary to practice, and she cringes at the memory that she was the one to bring it up to Rowan. He hasn’t acted any different with her though after the kiss, he still smiles softly at her when she enters the room and they’ve managed to sleep next to each other in the bed for the rest of the week without problem. 

Unless you count waking up tangled around each other a problem. Aelin does. 

It’s getting harder and harder to ignore what she feels for Rowan with every morning she wakes up with his arms around her. He’s always quick to roll away from her when he wakes up and realises, she’s trying not to let it bother her. 

She doesn’t know how she’s going to go back to sleeping in separate rooms in their apartment. How she’s going to bear saying goodnight to him and closing her door every night.

Their bags are packed by the door, ready to leave and Rowan is defrosting the car, getting it ready to go, when her mum corners her. 

“It has been wonderful to see you, Fireheart.” 

“Thanks, mum,” Aelin allows herself to be wrapped up in a hug and she squeezes her mum tightly. “It’s always nice to see you and dad.”

“We’ve loved having you here. And Rowan too.” Her mum looks like she could cry again and Aelin buries her wince. It’s going to break her mum’s heart when she has to deliver the news of her and Rowan’s supposed break up in a few weeks. “I’m so happy the two of you finally figured it out.”

“I- um…” Aelin doesn’t have the words to respond to that. “Yeah, me too.”

If only. 

Rowan joins them on the porch now and kisses her mum’s cheek as he bids her his goodbye. He shakes her dad’s hand and the image tears through Aelin’s chest. 

She feels like she’s about to cry, at the image of Rowan here like this with her parents, at the idea that they think it’s all real, at the idea of returning to a life where it isn’t. 

Her dad presses a kiss to her cheek. “Cheer up, Fireheart. We’ll see you both soon I’m sure.”

She nods as she wraps her arms around him. She’s not sure how they’re going to play the break up now, she’s made such a mistake bringing Rowan here. How they’re going to play exes everytime she sees her parents now is too much of a mess for her to deal with. 

“You ready to go?” Rowan asks her, his voice soft and a concerned look in his eye.

Aelin nods, unable to find words, and waves her goodbye to Aedion and Lysandra. 

Rowan is driving again, and it means she can look back to the cabin for as long as she can waving to her family. It also means she can spend a while looking away from Rowan, trying to hold in the tears that threaten to fall. 

-- 

They don’t talk for most of the car ride. Rowan shoots her periodic glances, concern written clearly across his face, but he doesn’t speak other than to ask if she needs to stop for a coffee or a bathroom break. 

Each time she only shakes her head. She just wants to tuck herself up in bed at their home and wallow. 

-- 

Back at their apartment she runs up the stairs before him, calling something about putting the coffee maker on as he grabs the bags. She knows he’s starting to get anxious with her silence, but she still doesn’t have the words. 

She’s fiddling with mugs in their kitchen when he finally corners her, unwilling to let her low mood go unmentioned. Another thing she loves about him. 

“Aelin, what’s wrong?” He asks her, his voice so gentle that it only tugs her heart more. 

“Nothing, I’ll just miss being at the cabin.”

It’s a weak lie, pathetic really, and Rowan sees right through it. He steps around the island to rest in front of her. He takes a deep breath before speaking, a tell-tale sign he’s about to challenge whatever she’s said. 

“You don’t normally feel like this though, what’s different this time?”

Aelin knows he sees the tears in her eyes, and his expression is a mixture of panic and concern. She lets out a wet laugh. 

“What’s different?” She asks. “You don’t feel different now, after last week, pretending to be more than friends? You don’t feel different now that we’re back here?”

Rowan glances away from her and she misses the face he pulls at the words. It isn’t long before he looks back to her and steps even closer. He bites his lip, she knows it means he’s nervous. 

“No, Aelin.” She shuts her eyes. This is going to hurt. “I don’t feel different. I’m still just as in love with you now as I was before.”

Aelin’s mouth drops open as her stomach drops to the floor. 

“You’re in love with me?” She says dumbly. 

“Gods, Aelin. I thought that was obvious.” He’s definitely nervous now, and Aelin’s brain rushes to reassure him. 

She laughs, this is absurd. “You’re in love with me?”

Rowan takes a step back, his open expression shuttering closed. “Yes. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” 

“Rowan,” She breathes and her hand shoots out to stop him moving any further away from her. “Rowan, I love you.”

“What?” 

Aelin laughs, a little hysterical now. “We are such idiots.”

She pulls on his hand, pulling him closer to her and sliding her hand up his chest. There’s a hopeful look in his eyes that wasn’t there before as he smiles down at her. 

She rests her palm against his cheek as he says, “Say it again.”

She smiles, closing her eyes for a second. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Rowan’s smile has never looked as bright as it does now. She wants to kiss him. He seems to be on the same wavelength and cradles her face between his hands. 

“You love me,” He says and leans down to press his lips to hers. 

“I do,” She manages before she melts into the kiss.

-- 

They spend hours in the kitchen, in the living room, in her bedroom professing their love for each other. Aelin thinks this is better than any other present she received this year. 

She can’t wait to be back at the cabin with Rowan next year.

[sourwormsaresour]

Headcanons on the type of pets La Squadra would own?

Holy shit this was too fun to make, especially with giving the pets names.

Sorbet and Gelato have their own Crusty-White-Dog™ that's a Maltese Terrier named Armani. The dog hates and barks nonstop at everything deemed threatening (aka, everyone and particularly the rest of La Squadra) and yet those two will claim she's the sweetest thing in the world. True to her name, they deck her with Armani branded clothes, either specially made dog fashion or they had a DIY done to make it look like an Armani outfit- down to the bright pink leash she wears dripping in the Armani logo. She eats the finest dry kibble and only drinks Ferrarelle Sparkling water; she will know the difference if you switch it up. She's the epitome of "I demand pets but only do so with your eyes" to everyone. Despite loving Sorbet and Gelato the most, she demands all their attention on her and she will cockblock those two if she catches them being affectionate to each other instead. Despite having a nice bed, she always sleeps between the two of them and will whimper if they kick her out of the bedroom so they can get intimate. Those tear-stained eyes always look like they've seen everything, despite being constantly babied by her owners. If Armani could, she would kill everyone.

Risotto, the biggest man in Vento Aureo, has a little Syrian hamster he called Ace. He thought that a pet with a shorter lifespan would allow him the perfect balance of having a pet but not being very attached to it compared to pets that live longer- he was wrong. If you ever come into Risotto's office as he worked, either you are greeted with Ace running around in his green hamster ball, walking around Risotto's desk as he worked, or running in the hamster wheel behind the desk. Ace's tank is an old Aquarium tank Pesci gave to Risotto that is now full of soft bedding, toys, and Risotto frequently cleans it. There are days where Risotto just spends hours watching his hamster walk around the room, eating little treats, and staring at Risotto with its beady eyes. It's gotten to the point where you can't walk into Risotto's office without noticing a lone sunflower seed or piece of bedding on the ground that Risotto didn't notice until you pointed it out. Every time Ace passes from old age, Risotto buys a new Syrian hamster and calls that one Ace. He hasn't kept track of how many hamsters that came and went so far, but treated every one of them as if they were the first Ace. He takes pictures of Ace doing the most relatively boring things and will share them with his members.

Illuso got a Sulphur-crested cockatoo named Scapino as a joke. He thought they didn’t require much attention but later felt bad when he found out that they need specific proper care. He proceeds to care for it as if it was his child. Illuso taught his bird how to speak and swear at people, specifically swearing at Formaggio and occasionally at Ghiaccio. This man will shower his bird with the best treats (expensive nuts, dried fruit, chicken bones) and has a special bar for it to perch on when they're in the shower together. This bird has free reign all over Illuso's place and wears a little anklet thing to verify that it has an owner should it escape. The two of them have spa days together and it’s one of the most wholesome things in the world to witness. Scapino will actually join Illuso on missions too, staying in the mirror world the whole time, and it provides him some comfort from his social anxiety. Sometimes Scapino sits on his shoulder as he walks. Illuso trained it to stay and hide in the mirror world so that it wouldn’t fly away or blow his cover when he’s working. But the bird will fly around in there and will watch anyone that’s getting murked in front of him with no remorse and commenting on it too. Imagine you’re dying in the mirror world and your last moment is this fucking bird looming over you going “night night, motherfucker”. JESUS CHRIST. 

Prosciutto used to be on the whole “pets are unnecessary” train but he had considered looking at breeders for the best quality dog. And then one rainy day he found an abandoned Portuguese Water Dog puppy in an alleyway and at Pesci’s insistence took it in. Turns out the puppy was bought by a rich family for their kid but then abandoned when the kid wasn't interested in it anymore. Prosciutto insisted that the dog was going to stay for one night and then sent to the pound first thing in the morning. It's been years now and the little dog is now a big fluffy good boy named Pon Pon. The second biggest chunk of Prosciutto's paycheck is for this dog; I'm talking grooming services with paw-ticures, an all-organic raw diet, the nicest beds that even a human would wish they can sleep on. Pon Pon is properly trained with all the basics and tricks, because Prosciutto doesn't want to deal with a misbehaving dog, but it will use puppy eyes against the old man now and then. He give you the best smiles if you call him a good boy and if you glance at the right time you can see Prosciutto smile for a brief moment. Had he lived longer, he would have made Pon Pon famous on Facebook like Boo the Dog. Prosciutto will also not admit that this dog has helped him get laid a few times, because every person he did bring home always got a kick out of Pon Pon.

Ghiaccio has a pet snake- an albino ball python named Bianco. Ghiaccio was also on the “pets are unnecessary” train too but mainly because he can't stand loud pets (i.e. Illuso and Sorbet and Gelato’s pets). When Risotto suggested he get a snake, Ghiaccio looked into it, researching and meticulously setting up the proper enclosure  and found himself going to a local reptile expo to find Bianco for sale. He’s fascinated by his snake to say the least, and would use leftover containers or Tupperware for Bianco to spend more money on proper equipment or food. Ghiaccio is really involved in online reptile forums and frequently debates with people on topics such as the best substrates to use, whether live rodents are better than frozen, ethics of breeding certain species, etc. He often gets worried when Bianco becomes picky and Ghiaccio would spend sleepless nights trying to get his baby to eat. Ghiaccio would walk around with his ball python wrapped around his neck or lets him slither around in his room under supervision but he mostly leaves him alone in the enclosure. There are times where he would claim he has the best, smartest pet and everyone just rolls their eyes like “yes the white fettuccine that got stuck in a toilet paper roll an hour ago is so smart”. But they let him rant about it. It’s kind of cute to say the least.

Pesci is the definition of people whose entire LIVELIHOOD is making his room into an aquarium. His room is full of strictly maintained, cleaned, and decorated tanks full of various types of aquatic animals. I’m talking Dwarf Puffers (Antonio, Portia, Jessica, Bassiano, and Solanio), Albino Gold Axolotls (Moe, Larry, and Curly), Red Ear Sliders (Franco and Ciccio), Clown Fishes (Browser, Mario, Toadstool, and Koopa), Brazilian Sea Horses (Tom and Jerry), a Blue Betta Fish named Valentina in a 30+ gallon aquaponics tank that grows a variety of plants each season- to name a few. He rebuilt his entire room to keep everything running and even had Melone help him set up timers for lighting and temperature control. Pesci will cry if you somehow made the pH level off by 1 or did not care for his animals properly when he’s away. He’ll even lecture you about bad tank setup. He's a prominent member of the aquarium  community in Italy and will regularly redecorate each tank to suit the year and mood. This is where he’s spending his cut on the 20 million lira job: caring for his mini aquarium room. He occasionally gives away his pets’ offsprings for extra money (he doesn’t breed but sometimes he ends up having a ton of baby animals he can’t take care of) and would have been a YouTuber for his fish content. Now that I think about it, Pesci reminds me of my mutual @nexter2nd. Please go follow them.

Melone has a Holland Lop bunny and you cannot change my mind. He actually had a pet bunny growing up, another Holland Lop named Echo and Grep, and his current one is named Sudo; all three are named after UNIX commands. He has a large dog crate he diy-ed to be a roomy enclosure in his room for her that he cleans frequently but also allows Sudo free reign of the room when she wants to go out. Because of his job, he makes sure all his wires are covered so his bunny isn't tempted to chew them and watches his bunny diligently whenever she roams around. Easter time is when the denim jacket, pastel bows, and flower crowns come out and Melone makes sure to take a lot of photos. He also housetrained his bunny and taught her a few tricks, similar to how he trained Echo and Grep years ago. Sudo is spoiled in terms of getting a lot of pets, new toys, and feasts on the finest veggies and delicious hay. Melone also makes sure the first thing he teaches his Juniors is to not harm the bunny. Surprisingly, he's against breeding Sudo and has her neutered. This is mainly because he doesn't have the time to breed and raise more bunnies but also he hates the idea of selling the grown bunnies off afterward. 

You know that Formaggio has a cat: the little Russian Blue cat named Sweetie Baby. Sweetie Baby was a kitten that he found outside his home. The little thing was the sole survivor of its litter and nearly starving to death, so he took her in thinking he will bring her to the shelter when she recovers; that cat now lets him live in HER apartment rent-free. Despite feeding her cheap dry food and constantly shoving her into bottles, he treats her like a queen otherwise. He will dress her up in little outfits (much to her annoyance) and often would be too aggressively affectionate towards her. Still, there are moments where she would cuddle with him during the later nights and allow him to put on one iced-out bow he just spent a quarter of his paycheck on. Walking to his apartment and even the backdoor of La Squadra’s HQ means carefully walking through the stray cats mewling at your feet, because Formaggio will feed any cat he sees. Initially, Risotto wanted the cats gone, but then he finds out the cats doubled as security when he watched some robber attempting to break in but getting their eyes scratched off instead.

[pigeonfancier]

Allergies are so much funnn. I made bourbon creme cookie spoons, because my bffle sent me a bunch and I immediately became obsessed! Used as pudding pack instead of custard powder, because I didn’t feel like going to the store. It had the ever-ambiguous “spices”, but surely, I reasoned, no allergens, because it’s a fucking pudding pack?

The cookies are delicious! Delicious and allergenic - that, or else switching my dog over to a food that has soy in it was more of a dumb idea than I thought. I figured that she doesn’t really lick people, so it’d be fine.. but I did not fully consider the fact that she licks herself, and she also wants to be held and/or leaning against me and/or directly underfoot at least 60% of the time she’s awake, so she might just be spreading soy protein across her pelt and then me.

Either way: I was a fool, haha.

Week for it! Garden is finally going alright, now that we’re out of the hell heatwave, but flare-ups are being a pain in general, but this time with 3x the brain fog, which is.. a little concerning to realise I keep zoning the fuck out and going on autopilot, but it happens. I’m still getting shit done, so just kind of shrugging? We stan a productive lizardbrain. My heart rate has thankfully dropped from resting at 110-180, down to 85-140 on average, which is still infuriating and unpleasant to deal with, but it is a lot more manageable. Just have to keep an eye on it, take breaks, build plans around the fact my energy and focus is -30%, lol, and don’t fuck around with elevation. People have been sweethearts and keeping it in mind, so at least it’s not as frustrating as these spells have been in the past - I want to do more still, but that’s just a constant.

On the infinitely more positive side, though, the lemon and lime trees are thriving. I’m so pleased with them! I don’t know if they’ll ever quite settle enough to start producing fruits, but they’re readily producing flowers, the pollinators love them, and they smell great, so that’s all I need, tbhhh. I was a bit distraught that the heatwave has managed to murder all attempts at sunflowers or corn this year, but whereas those wilted, my peppers have gone completely batshit, and even the smallest plant has four peppers nearly as long as the main stalk growing. And all three varieties of colours have survived, so there’s purple, red and green. I’m hypeddd.

Still planting seeds, and seeing what I can prompt into popping up! Plan is still to maintain a nice garden inside of the greenhouse over the winter, because watching the slowly rising price of produce in the stores are making me feel a little feral. Main concern is making sure the humidity inside the greenhouse stays low enough not to foster disease or fungus between the plants, at this point? But the air’s dry enough in winter that I might be overthinking it! We’ll see.

Also on the positive side: the pool is getting to the point I am a little less suspicious of its existence! Quarantine run-arounds and other assorted bullshit means that we’re doing the usual BBQ closer to the end of the month, rather than at the start, so.. might actually have it up for people to swim in! I don’t like nor trust any bodies of water very much. I technically know how to swim and float, but I just don’t see the particular appeal.

However, reading on the sideline and kicking water in people’s faces when they forget I’m there does have a certain nostalgic thrill to it. That, and I’m very curious on seeing what the fuck Domino’s reaction is going to be to people jumping into the pool. She fucking loathes all water, to the point of refusing to go outside if it’s rained.. but she does love obsessively copying anything that she sees people doing as well. So which will win out? Excited to see!

[selfetishizing]

In which Eiji grossly overestimates the amount of mandarins he and Ash can eat. / 🍊 / ao3

Eiji comes home with a carton of mandarins and drops them at the entrance step with a dull thump.

“It was a good deal,” he tells Ash between breaths. “Ten kilograms for six thousand yen.” And then something about Mikan mandarins being nothing like those Floridian jokes for citrus and how the season for them is coming to a close. Ash never asked in the first place. It was as though he was defending himself from something before Ash could even open his mouth.

“Okay.” Ash kisses him on the cheek and helps him out of his coat, always in that order. Eiji stands on his toes, balancing himself with the cords of Ash’s sweater to aim another on his mouth. Ash leans down to help him, unconsciously souring his expression as he pulls back. “Have one on your way home?” He kisses him again for surety and, well, sure enough, his lips taste like they had been doused with Tang.

“A couple. Two couples.”

Ash whistles. “Dang. These oranges must be somethin’.”

"Mandarins, Ash. Mandarins. Not that I’d know the difference,” he sighs. “Oranges, mandarins... They're all kind of the same aren't they? Maybe it's about the size, the firmness, the peel. Maybe it's about the taste. All I know is that mandarins are like candy, and whatever this is,” Eiji pushes his chest out and wildly gesticulates to the accursed box before them, “is not it. These must be clementines from— oh, I don't know!— Pensa-fucking-cola!” He erupts all at once, shooting up like a thermometer on a dog day June afternoon and fizzling out like cola foam.

Eiji leans back against the door and Ash on the bannister. They stare at it, Eiji with utter disdain and Ash with morbid curiosity. Like a pack of Tic Tacs magnified by one hundred, he muses.

Ash crouches down to pick one of the mandarins up. Eiji moves in accordance, hand reaching out as if to stop him— that the fruit would poison him if he so much as hovered over it. Despite this silent warning, Ash grabs three and plays court jester for His Highness.

He juggles.

He juggles and he absolutely sucks at it while Eiji watches in complete horror; seeing the mandarins not as mandarins, but clipped grenades ready to blow the very hands that handled it. The color had gone from his face. He is but a pale sheet reflecting the warm hue of the ball pit that tormented him from below.

Eiji flashes him a mortified look. What the hell do you think you're doing?

Ash concentrates. Trying not to mess up.

Eiji frowns. This isn’t funny.

Ash almost cries. Yeah it is.

And he messes up.

The mandarins drop to the floor, sad little balls with not a lot of roll in them. Their eyes trace them as they huddle next to the box, like they had desperately wanted to go home and out of the reach of these two men that were belittling them.

Defeated, Eiji's back slides down the door. He holds his head in his hands.

“I miscalculated,” he says exasperatedly. “What are we going to do with all of these oranges?”

“Mandarins.”

“Mandarins.”

Ash sits level with him on the first step, eyes gleaming with warrior morale. He grabs the enemy and thrusts his fingers unto him, peeling them from their leathery armor. Ash— the fearless brute!— sections his enemy into eighths and tears into their head, innards spilling down his chin. In savage fashion, he wipes their juices with the back of his hand, going as far as offering their remains to Eiji. He grins. “We’re gonna eat ‘em.”

──────────⊹⊱🍊⊰⊹──────────

The sun slowly filters through bleary eyes and he sees a blob of Eiji watching him, head propped on both elbows. Ash hums as Eiji runs his hands through his hair, neither awake or asleep.

“An angel,” he murmurs, grasping his wrist and pulling him in. He presses his lips on the inside of his arm.

“Not quite.” Eiji climbs over him, heartbeats tethered. He smooches his jaw, laces their hands loosely. “Your worst nightmare, actually. A real devil with horns and a pitchfork.”

“Oh no.” Ash wraps an arm around Eiji’s waist, keeping them fixed together. He aims— bullseye!— for his lips, scrunching his nose when he tastes him on his tongue. “Oh no.” Mandarines today. Tangerines yesterday. Clementines the day before.

The wisps of Eiji’s hair tickle his skin as he laughs into his chest. “Told you so.”

“Sugar, you’re sour!”

“You really won’t like what’s for breakfast then.” Eiji rests his cheek against his shoulder, looking up from behind his lashes. Ash stares at him, the world in his eyes. It's enough to mask his disappointment.

“Again?”

“Yes, again. It was your idea."

“Can’t I have you for breakfast?”

“No, silly. That would be cannibalism.”

“But you’d be so delicious." Ash brings their held hands to his mouth, playfully biting one of Eiji’s fingers. Oranges. Of course it tastes like oranges. “Actually, on second thought....”

“Poor thing,” patronizes Eiji, patting his head like he’s the star player of a losing team. “You poor, poor thing.”

“You’re evil,” Ash whispers.

“I know, and you’re absolutely mad about me for it.” Eiji winks and untangles himself from Ash’s cling. He swipes his bangs up and pecks him on the forehead. “It’s waiting for you downstairs.”

“‘It?’ What is ‘it?'”

Eiji is already out the door, down the hall before he can answer.

Ash rolls himself up with linen wraps and lays lax in their unmade bed, ruler of this citrus peel mausoleum. He curses to himself, at the sun, at his sweet-turned-sourheart. He wishes it was the weekend. Then, he'd have an excuse to stay in bed all day and never leave their room. He'd be able to snack on all the Eiji he wants without burning the roof of his mouth with acid fruit.

──────────⊹⊱🍊⊰⊹──────────

The low table is dressed with white lace placemats and their finest floral china— courtesy of Missus Mom Okumura. A carafe is the centerpiece, replacing the vase of lilies Ash had bought Eiji when he went into town. Ash looks through the glass, Eiji’s head bobbing in the saffron pool.

“Come sit,” beckons Eiji, motioning to the cushion adjacent to him. His smile is distorted by pulp. Cautiously, Ash enters. He keeps it cool, keeps it blasé as he shuffles his feet inside with his knuckles tucked into the waistband of his brief, elbows pointed outward. There, his place is set with wooden chopsticks and their granite stopper. And lo and behold, the main course’s presentation is that of a rose, blooming from its peel. He should’ve known.

“You’re joking.”

Ash would've laughed had the situation not been so ridiculous.

“I wish I was.”

“How is it that we have an infinite arsenal of mandarins?”

“Not infinite. The box is almost empty.”

“It took us four days of constant snacking to get to this point.”

“And it will take us one more to finish it.”

Ash points an accusatory finger at him. “You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna stuff myself with another one of those. My shit is literally orange.”

“Put me in a sanatorium then.” Eiji slides the plate in his direction. “Breakfast is served.”

──────────⊹⊱🍊⊰⊹──────────

Ash always liked train rides in Japan, liked how silent it was, and the comforting voice of the announcer telling them they’d arrived at their destination. Living in the countryside meant sprawling fields for hours until they reached the city, a scene Ash never seemed to tire of. A cow would greet him for a second before they were replaced by some grandpa with muddied ankles, before he was replaced by a young girl on a Tiffany blue bell bike, before she was replaced with…

As he stares out the window, he can see Eiji, sitting across from him cross-legged, peeling another offending mandarin. Ash sighs, trying to immerse himself back into his one-man game of I Spy. Eiji wins his attention again— he always does— and so Ash settles on watching Eiji’s reflection behind him.

Eiji always starts at the middle and digs his thumbs into the peel, pulling its skin off as if he were undressing it. Erotic, Ash thinks fleetingly. He strips it sensually, letting it unfurl into a sproutling. Juice drips down his hand when he carelessly breaks into its flesh. Eiji licks up from his wrist, the heel of his palm and sucks on a finger. Naughty, naughty. Ash smiles into his sleeve, letting the thought float up in his head and burst into a million soap bubbles.

Finally, for once this week, his mouth waters, parched. Ash supposes this is what it means to be in love. Even the most mundane of tasks can look enticing if your other half is doing it. He’s sure he’ll be over the moon about this snapshot scene for the rest of the month. He’ll count the replays of Eiji in the train instead of sheep just before slumber, ensuring him tender dreams.

“It’s a lucky sweet one.” Telepathic. Eiji seems to know exactly what he wants.

Ash nods.

Eiji breaks it into fourths, a fourth into a half. Instead of giving him a section, Eiji rises from his seat to sit beside Ash; crosses his legs, leans in, opens his mouth to say “aaaah” as he feeds him. Ash devours, nips his nail.

“There’s people in this car,” Eiji whispers sharply, eyes darting left and right. A man is reading the paper— a huge parrotfish is its cover story. There’s a teenage boy in the back fiddling with his phone, neon lights of his game reflecting softly on his face. A woman Ash presumes worked the night shift is sound asleep.

“No one’s looking.” Ash wraps an arm around him and scooches closer. “Quickly.”

Eiji, Mister Goody-Two-Shoes, puffs his cheek and scans the area one more time, switching his gaze from Ash’s mischievous stare to his near-empty surroundings. He surrenders and angles his head up, eyes closed, waiting, aching. Ash captures him.

“You taste like Sunday morning,” Ash coos, supping the remnants of his juice-glossed lips.

“Ever the poet.” Eiji, blushing, concentrates on turning more quarters into halves. “We still have four of these left. Hopefully they taste just as sweet.”

Ash is sure they will be.

He wouldn’t mind eating mandarins for the rest of his life so long as Eiji is peeling them for him.

[mamabearcatfanfics]

Dani updates something. The world must be truly coming to an end. Read below or here on AO3

Like most great wars, it was started by something small.

Kagome picked up her laptop from where it had been sitting on the coffee table and carried it into her bedroom, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to invite Inuyasha over for movie and pizza, but when she’d texted him earlier in the day and heard about his crap day at work, she’d extended an impromptu invite. Sango hadn’t minded, and it had been fun, even if he did spend most of the night using her laptop to debunk theories in the spy thriller they’d watched.

When he’d first arrived, he’d been his usual grumpy self, but by the end of the movie, he was in an excellent mood. It was nice to see him happy, although she wasn’t exactly sure what had caused the change in attitude. The pizza had probably helped. She’d never seen anyone consume pizza like Inuyasha could. It worried her sometimes, the types of food he ate, even though he argued that an inuhanyou’s metabolism was very different to a human’s and you couldn’t compare the two.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. If her friend was happy, then so was she. He had such a nice smile, and she tried to do her best to help it come out at every opportunity. They were just friends, she knew that, but his smile was just… it gave her butterflies.

Calling out a sleepy goodnight to Sango, she wandered into her bedroom yawning, wishing she could flop straight onto the bed and close her eyes. But unfortunately, she still had the proposed media releases for the Starlight Foundation’s upcoming fundraiser event to read through before a breakfast meeting tomorrow. She knew if she’d stayed to go over them at work she’d have to walk home from the train station in the dark, so she’d emailed them to her personal laptop before she’d left for the day.

Slipping into her comfy pj’s and snuggling under the covers, she opened up her laptop, then blinked slowly, her head tilting slightly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Everything was upside down.

Her whole screen was the opposite of how it should look. She exited out of her email program, noting with apprehension that her desktop was also upside down, then opened it up again. Still upside down. Crap! Was this a virus? She’d let the virus protection on her laptop lapse because she’d had to buy a new dress to wear to the fundraising ball, and she’d seen the perfect dress and there’d been a sale, and she had to get the extra money from somewhere. What if it the virus somehow got back to her work computer? Shit, shit, shit!

Quickly googling ‘everything on my computer screen is upside down’, and tilting the screen and her head so she could read the upside down words, she breathed a sigh of relief when she worked out it was an easy fix. Using the Ctrl, Alt and arrow keys she quickly set it to rights, sending up a silent thank you prayer to the IT gods, with a promise that she would update her virus protection asap. She wasn’t sure how her screen had got that way, but right now she was too tired to care.

The next evening, when she sat down with Sango to watch the latest episode of Masterchef, the tv remote refused to work. With their cider going warm and the avocado dip congealing on the cheese platter they’d prepared, they both tried to get the remote to work, giving it a tap and shake to no avail.

After repeated attempts at removing the batteries and rotating them, while Sango went through the junk drawer in the kitchen in a fruitless search for new batteries, Kagome finally noticed the tiny scrap of black tape over the sensor on the remote.

She removed it, and the remote worked again. She looked suspiciously at Sango, narrowing her eyes. She smelled a prank. But Sango loved watching Masterchef as much as she did, and was complaining bitterly about them missing a souffle failure. Masterchef was one of the highlights of their week. Nope, it wasn’t Sango. But someone was definitely having fun at their expense.

Two nights later, when she bit into an Oreo from her secret treat stash in her bedside drawer, and found the sweet creamy filling had been replaced with toothpaste, she knew there was a prank war going on. And as far as she knew, there was only one person who knew about her secret stash, because he’d busted her one night stuffing her face when he’d popped his head in her room to say good night.

Inuyasha.

He’d had time to do all these things on their movie night. He’d used her laptop. He’d had access to the remote. And now that she thought about it, there’d been that suspicious amount of time he’d spent in the bathroom, which neither of them had questioned because he’d muttered a warning about steering clear of the bathroom for a while to give the air a chance to clear. But that would have enabled him access to both the bathroom and her bedroom while her and Sango were engrossed in the movie. No wonder he’d been so cheerful that evening when he left. Inuyasha had pranked her.

But what he didn’t know, was that Kagome was a seasoned campaigner when it came to prank wars. Her and Souta had it down to a fine art, coming up with bigger and better pranks all the time, to the point that one year her mother hand banned them totally, because things were getting out of hand.

The corners of her mouth turned up in a sinister smile, and she let out a chuckle worthy of a cartoon villain. Alright. If he wanted a war, he’d get one.

It was on, like Donkey Kong.

Inuyasha sighed moodily. It wasn’t that he disliked his job necessarily, it was just a job, and it paid the bills, and gave him enough time off to do all the other things he enjoyed doing. But on days like today, when the shop was empty as a tomb, and his phone battery had gone flat, he was ready to expire from boredom. He was just toying with the idea of using a charging cable from the one’s in stock, when a familiar scent drifted across his senses as the shop bell rang.

“How’s my favourite hanyou doing?” Kagome grinned, watching his ears perk up as she walked in.

“I’m fucking bored to tears”, he said, standing up from where he’d been slumped against the counter. He glanced at the clock on the wall, then looked back at her with concern. “Hey. Aren’t you home from work a little early? You’re not sick are ya?”

“No, no, I’m going to work from home this afternoon, seeing I’ve been going into the office so early this week”, Kagome answered breezily. “I just popped in to bring you something.”

“Huh?”

“I tried out a new recipe for chocolate chip cookies, and I know how much you like them, so I saved some for you. That should make your afternoon more interesting.”

Inuyasha sniffed the tupperware container she handed over appreciatively. Kagome was a good cook, and even though the plastic blocked most of the smell, he could tell they would be tasty, because everything Kagome made was delicious. And chocolate chip cookies were his favourites. Fucking sweet!

“Thanks Kagome! You’re the best, you know that?”

His conscience twitched slightly as he thought about the toothpaste oreo’s he’d hidden in her drawer. He’d had a crap day that day, and playing those little pranks on her had cheered him up immensely. He’d often played pranks on his half brother Sesshoumaru back when he’d come to visit Dad during school holidays, to see if he could budge the stick that the older youkai seemed to have permanently wedged up his arse. The oreo trick had been one of his favourites. But here she was baking for him. Maybe she hadn’t found them yet. Perhaps he could replace them with a whole new packet before she ate one, seeing she’d bought him these. He grinned at her.

“You wanna stay and eat some with me Kittycat?”

“I’m afraid I can’t”, Kagome said with a sorrowful expression. “Lots to do. But I’m sure you’ll enjoy them!” With a cheery wave, she walked out of the door.

Inuyasha smiled, looking down at the container in his hands. She’d put a post it note on the lid, with ‘For Inuyasha’ written in curly swoopy cursive. She was a good friend, had fit into his life so completely that he didn’t know what he’d do if she suddenly disappeared. He was so glad he’d helped her that day she’d walked in to the shop with her bad cold.

Taking off the lid and not even pausing to take a sniff, he picked up one of the delectable looking cookies and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, chewing appreciatively, until a distinctive taste hit his tongue. He nearly spat the contents of his mouth out on the floor, but ended up swallowing the mouthful with distaste, knowing he’d be the one that would have to clean up the mess. Those weren’t chocolate chips…

 Fucking raisins!

The wench knew he hated them. What the fuck? Who would replace innocent chocolate chips with fucking raisins, the worlds most vile dried fruit – that was… was evil!

The post-it note fluttered off the lid, and he noticed a smiley face drawn on the back with some more of Kagome’s swirling cursive.

 ‘That’s payback for the Oreos dog boy!  ❤ K.’

He snorted, about to tip the cookies in the bin, then deciding to put them aside to give to Myoga. The old man had taste in his arse, he’d probably love them, especially if he told him Kagome made them. But Kagome. What was he going to do about sweet little innocent Kagome? It looked like he’d finally found a worthy adversary.

It had been two weeks since she’d given Inuyasha the cookies, and there had been no retaliation. She sniggered, remembering his face when she’d asked him how he’d liked his cookies – the rolled eyes, the huff of irritation. Sweet manna to her soul. But then he hadn’t done anything about it. Frankly Kagome was a little disappointed. It was a shame, because she’d really enjoyed baking the biscuits for him and imagining his face when he bit into one, but she guessed that not everyone liked pranks. The Oreo incident had probably been a one off.

She flicked on the lamp next to the sofa, ready to sit down and enjoy her book and her cocoa with the last of the tiny little marshmallows, and shrieked, slopping the hot liquid down her pyjama shirt. Sango came running.

“Kagome, are you okay?!”

“Cockroach!”, she shrieked, pointing at the lamp, ready to hurl her book at it. The shadow of the insect was clearly visible on the inside of the lamp shade. “Quick Sango, get the bug spray!”

“On it!” Sango hollered, running into the kitchen, clearly ready to unload half the can on the offending interloper. Kagome kept her eye locked on the insect, wanting to be ready in case it flew towards her, holding up her book like a shield. The insect was still. Very still. So still in fact she bravely moved closer to take a better look.

She pulled the cut out picture of a giant cockroach from the inside of the lamp and held it up for Sango’s inspection as she approached with a jumbo sized can of spray. Sango looked incredulously at the paper insect, and then back at Kagome, who was looking at the cut out with a strange expression of glee.

“Inuyasha?” asked Sango hesitantly, unsure exactly what was going on, but making an informed guess.

“Yup!” replied Kagome happily, popping the ‘p’ with relish. Looked like Inuyasha was playing a long game. She could do that.

They were strolling along the High Line, or rather Kagome was strolling, and Inuyasha was following along reluctantly. It was only the promise of beer and a burger at the end of this outing that had made him go along.

“Isn’t it lovely here?”

“Kagome, it’s a bridge. With plants on it. And tourists.”

“But it’s so nice! Isn’t it amazing? All these green things growing in the middle of the city.” She twirled around with her arms out wide, nearly taking out some backpackers, then grabbed his hand, dragging him over to a small garden filled with purple daisies.

“Can we take a selfie here together? Please?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and then pouted dramatically. “Aw, I’m all out of battery.”

She looked up at Inuyasha and gave him a sweet smile, and he rolled his eyes, shoving his hand in his jeans pocket to pluck out his phone.

“Fine, use mine”, he drawled, unlocking his phone and handing it over to her. “But don’t go filling it up with cutesy photos, alright?” He didn’t mind really though. Kagome was always taking photos of them together on her phone, and he didn’t have any on his. It might be nice to have at least one of them together.

Kagome smiled up at him, and they did the usual shuffle so they would both fit in the confines of the screen – her standing on tiptoes, and him curving his body downwards.

“Say cheese!”

He grinned automatically, his lopsided smile revealing one fang, his cheek resting on the top of Kagome’s head. She’d told him she was using a new shampoo, one that didn’t smell quite as much, after reading up on different scents that bothered youkai, and he appreciated the fact that she’d done something like that for him. He sighed, breathing in her sweet smell, which blocked out the usual stench of the city.

“Thank you” said Kagome softly, mindful of how close she was to his ears. She kissed his cheek gently, and he couldn’t help the sappy grin that crossed his face. “I’m just gonna message the photo to my phone, okay? That way we’ve both got a copy.”

“Uh sure.”

He straightened up, feeling his heart beating a little faster for some reason. He obviously needed to get to the gym more often if walking along a bridge and dodging tourists got his heart rate up.

She handed him back his phone and then tugged on his hand. He slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“C’mon! I promised I’d buy you a beer and a burger. There’s a pub just under the bridge that’s meant to be awesome. I was reading reviews about it last night.”

He smiled fondly at her, taking in her wide grin and the spring sunshine bouncing off her dark hair. Such a bubbly person. He honestly didn’t know what Kagome saw in him. But he was very glad that she liked hanging out.

He had such a fun afternoon talking, laughing, eating, then walking her back to her apartment, that he realised he’d never looked at the photo she’d taken. He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, then snorted when he looked at his screen. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but somehow, she’d changed every single app icon to different pictures of kittens. Nice one. His lips curled into a smile, already planning on what he could do to get her back.

He flicked open his photo app and stared at the photo of them together, standing in the sunlight surrounded by purple daisies in the middle of a bustling city, the wind blowing their hair so the white and black intermingled. He saved it as his lock screen.

Kagome hated dusting. But she loved knick nacks, so dusting was a necessity. She just couldn’t bear to throw things away, and kept all sorts of little mementoes that wouldn’t mean anything to other people, but meant a lot to her. Spraying a little bit more polish on the rag, she ran it over the shelves of the bookcase in the hallway, picking up a photo frame absentmindedly so she could dust underneath. And then she double blinked.

Taking a closer look at the photo, she snorted with laughter. It was a photo of the four of them, one someone had taken when they’d won the pub trivia championship.

She didn’t know how he’d done it, or when, but somehow Inuyasha had used a photo editing program to replace all their faces, hers, Sango’s, Miroku’s and his own, with the features of Nicholas Cage. Not entirely original, but funny all the same.

She turned the frame over to find the original photo stuck to the back. Miroku had his arm carelessly around Sango’s shoulders and Sango was blushing – no doubt Miroku had just whispered something perverted in her ear.

She was standing next to Sango, and Inuyasha was standing directly behind her, bending down so his chin rested on the top of her head. It made her smile, the way he draped himself on her for photos – it was often the only way they both fit, because he was so much taller than her.

He was so amazing, he took her breath away sometimes, just like he had that first time in the store. It was like he didn’t know how beautiful he was. She turned the photo around again, giggling at how ridiculous they all looked. She had to hand it to him, that was tricky. Time to up her game.

Inuyasha was pulling his boots on when there was a knock on his front door, but it was expected. He’d ordered a box of Krispy Kreme’s to bring to Miroku’s regular card night, and it had arrived right on time. Salted Double Caramel Crunch. He always ordered a box, knowing the girls liked them, and having a not so secret love of them himself. Kagome was always at him to eat healthier, worried about all the salty and sugary foods he enjoyed eating, but he was half youkai – his metabolism could handle nearly anything.

Carrying the box carefully, he walked the two blocks to Miroku’s house, a tiny bit late because he’d had to wait for the delivery, but it wasn’t like anyone would care. They were already there, Miroku shuffling the cards, Sango sipping a beer, and Kagome sitting on the sofa, her eyes lighting up when he walked in the door. Sometimes she was so fucking cute, he couldn’t stand it.

He plonked the box down on the centre of the table, and walked across to Miroku’s fridge, opening the door to snag himself a beer.

Sango opened the box eagerly, and then laughed uproariously.

“Are you on a health kick Inuyasha?” she sniggered.

“Huh?”

Opening up the sides of the box, she revealed carrot, celery and cucumber sticks, along with a plastic container of hummus.

“What the fuck?!”

Kagome came to stand behind him. “Oh, good boy! You finally listened to me about eating healthier foods. You’re gonna feel so much better!” she said, patting him on the shoulder.

Inuyasha turned his head, raising an eyebrow.

“Really Kagome? Kidnapping innocent donuts?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Kagome said, her expression all wide eyed and innocent. “Bu-ut if you wanted a donut as a little treat for being a good boy, after you’ve eaten some healthy veggies of course, there’s a plate of Salted Double Caramel Crunch ones in the kitchen. I know they’re your favourites.”

Kagome was tired. So tired. It had been a hectic week at work in the lead up to the fundraising ball, and all she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with a nice cup of sleepy tea before heading off to bed. She opened the cupboard to reach in for her favourite mug, but her hand clutched on empty air.

Huffing impatiently, she stood up on tiptoe, unable to quite see onto the shelf. Sango was taller than her, and sometimes she pushed the mugs back too far in the cupboard for her to reach. But her hand still grasped at nothing. Were they all in the dishwasher?

She opened up the dishwasher, but it was empty. Sighing impatiently, she went into the hall cupboard to fetch the little step stool she used to reach the higher shelves, but it wasn’t there. Or in the bathroom.

Smelling a rat, or rather a dog, she walked slowly back into the kitchen, her eyes roving around for anything amiss. And then she noticed them. Every single mug, cup and glass was placed on top of the cupboards, way out of her reach. Kagome frowned.

This… this one hurt a little. Inuyasha knew she was sensitive about her height. At 5’2” she was the shortest person in her family, with even Souta towering over her now, and her height was a family joke.

When they first met, Inuyasha used to tease her about it all the time too, but he didn’t any more, knowing that it upset her. The only thing that had stuck was her nickname, Kittycat, which she didn’t mind so much, she kind of liked the way he said it. But…

She sighed, climbing up onto the bench top and balancing on her tippy toes, one arm stretched up to reach for a mug, the other windmilling frantically as she almost lost her balance. This game. It didn’t feel quite as much fun anymore.

Inuyasha sipped his beer silently, sitting alone in their regular booth at the pub. Miroku had tried to engage him in conversation, but had eventually given up when every answer was a surly one syllable reply, and had gone over to the pool table to join a game.

They were waiting for the girls to arrive for their regular pub trivia night, but his heart wasn’t really in it tonight. He was annoyed at Kagome. She’d called him a ‘good boy’. Offered him a treat, like a dog. In front of other people. And it rankled, especially since she was usually the one who would defend him when others poked fun at his ears or his inuyoukai heritage. Somehow it hurt ten times worse coming from her, because it was unexpected. She did call him dog boy sometimes, but that hit different, because it was a nickname, a term of endearment. Being called a ‘good boy’ felt derogatory.

Maybe it had been petty, putting all the things up out of her reach, especially when he knew she was sensitive about her height, but he’d felt like being fucking petty. This game they were playing wasn’t as much fun as it had been.

His ear twitched as he heard the raised voices of Sango and Kagome over the general noise. Sango was disagreeing with her over something, asking her if it really was a good idea, and Kagome was shushing her, moving through the crowd towards them. She seemed a little off balance somehow, like she was walking differently, leaning slightly to one side.

As soon as he got closer he saw why. Her arm was in a sling.

The mugs. The fucking mugs. He’d put them all up out of her reach and hidden her step ladder under her bed. And of course because she was the clumsiest woman on this side of the planet, she’d managed to hurt herself. And it was all his fault. Fucking shit. He was the worst person alive.

Gulping, he pushed himself out of the booth, moving over towards them. Sango was still glowering at her, probably telling her it was a bad idea to be out at a pub when she was injured. And she was right. Maybe he should take her home. He couldn’t see a cast, so maybe her arm wasn’t broken. But even if it was just sprained, that was bad enough, because he knew it was coming up to the busiest time of year for her at work.

When he got closer, Sango greeted him shortly and then moved off to find Miroku. She obviously was angry at him, because she should be. Because he was a shit friend, who’d done something to someone who he cared about very much.

“Kagome…”

“Hey Inuyasha”, she said, looking downwards, her voice dejected, her arm cradled against her side carefully in the sling. “How are you?”

Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her carefully, like she was made of glass, avoiding her injured arm. She was so tiny, so fragile. So breakable.

“Kittycat, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t think.” He stroked her hair gently, running his clawed fingers through her dark curls. “Does it hurt too much? Have you had it x-rayed? If you want, I can take tomorrow off and take you to out patients. What ever you need, okay? I’m such a shit, I can’t believe I-“

Kagome cleared her throat. “Inuyasha?”

“Do you need to sit down?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m okay, really.” He watched as she pulled her arm out of the sling, and he flinched, his own hands moving reflexively, ready to steady her. “I really am fine. I almost fell, but then I didn’t. I didn’t get hurt. This is just to… to prank…um, gotcha?” she gulped as the concerned expression on Inuyasha’s face turned to ire.

He blinked at her, stony faced, then marched out of the pub, uncaring about Kagome calling after him.

He marched down the street, anger fueling his long strides, uncaring that Kagome’s voice was getting further and further away. He could hear her running to try and keep up, and he was bitterly amused about her tiny little human legs not being long or strong enough, until he heard her misstep and almost fall. Fuck. If she really did fall, which was totally a possibility because she was the biggest klutz on both sides of the planet…

He turned and marched back towards her, then waited, his arms crossed. She ran up to him, panting, leaning over to catch her breath.

“That wasn’t fucking funny Kagome.”

“I’m sorry”, she gasped. “I should have listened to Sango. She said it was too much. I was just annoyed about you putting everything up so high. And when I almost fell it gave me the idea.” She sighed. “But you’re right, it wasn’t funny.”

“Damn right it wasn’t!” he snarled. “I thought you were injured, and you know I’d never do anything to deliberately hurt you. Between this and the ‘good dog’ comment, I’m fucking-“

“What! I’d never-“

“It was implied. I was a ‘good boy’, who could have a ‘treat’? And then I suppose when you faked an injury you thought the good dog would whine about it and look after you? What did you do, read up on Inu youkai protective instincts or something? I bet you had a good laugh about it, huh?” He huffed out a heavy breath. “I don’t like this game we're playing anymore Kagome.”

“Inuyasha, I never meant it that way. I was teasing, but I’d never…” She was openly crying now, hugging her arms around herself. “Please, I’m so sorry. Please.”

She looked so pitiful that he relented, wrapping his arm around her shaking shoulders.

“I’m still annoyed Kagome”, he sighed. “But it’ll be okay so stop crying. No more pranks, okay?”

“No more”, she sobbed, pushing her face into his side. “I promise.”

Seeing a bench close by, he tugged her hand over to sit down beside him, patting her on the shoulder as she continued to cry.

“Hey c’mon now. Stop crying. I said it would be okay.”

“I really am sorry”, she sniffled. “I guess I don’t know when to stop. Maybe that was why Mama banned me and Souta from pranking each other.”

“You used to prank your brother? Hey, me too.” He rubbed her shoulder as she leaned into him. “Not all of them were bad. Look see, I still got kittens on my phone.” Kagome smiled, her cheeks wet with tears, and pulled out her own phone.

"Look, our lock screens match", she said softly, showing him the photo of them both standing in the sunshine surrounded by purple daisies. She wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath.

“I put the Nicholas Cage trivia team photo on the fridge so Sango and I can see it all the time”, she said shyly. “It makes me laugh. Are you gonna tell me how you did it?”

“Nope, I’ll take my secrets to the grave”, he grinned, then sighed. She still smelt like guilt and sadness. “C’mon Kagome. Cheer up.”

“Inuyasha, please believe me when I say that when I said ‘good boy’ I didn’t mean it the way you thought I did”, she hiccuped, looking at him intently. “I promise. I just didn’t think. I promise I won’t call you that again. And if I ever say anything that hurts your feelings like that, please tell me.”

“Okay. And I promise I won’t hide your things up high again. That was kinda mean too.”

“Okay. Are we good now?”

“We’re good.”

Kagome reached out her arms and hugged him around the waist. “Good. Because I hate fighting with you.”

He squeezed her back affectionately, then pulled her to her feet. “You ready to go kick some trivia butt Kittycat?”

“You bet.”

"Oh, and you need to make some more raisin cookies for Myoga. The old coot hasn't stopped raving about them."

[vidalinav]

Queen of Monsters: Chapter 5

Summary: Nesta and Cassian visit the Ironcrest clan and are forced into close quarters ft. an Illyrian wedding 

Read also: Chapter List, General Masterlist 

Warnings: None for this chapter I think 

Updates every Tuesday/Wednesday... mostly Wednesday. I will edit this tomorrow since I can’t look at it any longer.

~

Nesta scowled as Cassian set her down on the platform, crossing her arms as a permanent fissure took up space between her brows.

“Don’t touch me.” She said, patting the skirts of her gown with one hand as she tried to carry a basket full of exotic fruit with the other. Delicious reds, vibrant greens, and some that smelled of candy. The scent made her gag through the flight.

Cassian rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically as Nesta glared. But he grabbed the handle of the basket before she could take a step forward.  

“Stop that,” She grumbled, swatting him away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he moved to face her, blocking her view of what waited beyond him.  

“Nesta, listen.” Cassian said his voice lowering. “I know you’re intent on making everything difficult for all of us, and you have the tendency to run off to Mother knows where, but here, I need you to stay close to me.”

At the words, Nesta wanted to tell him off, imagined kicking him between the knees like that day many moons ago. But Nesta saw the look he gave her, the red of his cheeks blooming to full color.

He was angry—angry enough that he spouted curses without even opening his mouth.

She saw it in his eyes. The hatred burning.

Nesta nodded her head, and Cassian, at her assent, turned to face the Illyrians.

The rigid males were gathered in the town square, the space situated between the residents of the Ironcrest Clan. Unlike Windhaven, most of the small city had been occupied by buildings instead of tents. Some two or three stories in height. Their triangular roofs ran up the mountain like pictographic trees on a map and there was hardly any space between each hut.

Brown. The city was brown and painted with mud-ridden snow. In the back of her head, she thought she heard Elain’s voice, you can always find something beautiful if you look hard enough. Nesta could not see beauty where there was none.

The Illyrians were lined up as Cassian stepped ahead of Nesta. A male, she could only assume was the camp lord, raised a stern hand. He was stout, with a goatee made of wisps of grey. He stared at them harshly, as Cassian’s wings almost seemed to rise to full height.

Nesta wanted to snort at the action. She’d read in a book once that when birds felt threatened, they brushed up their feathers to antagonize, and when they wanted to mate, those feathers would flutter open so that all the colors would be displayed in its full glory.

He was peacocking, Nesta chortled silently.

“The High Lord sends his greetings,” Cassian announced, the words so formal for the puffed-up bat she’d always seen. “He regrets that he can’t make the trip himself.”

“Too busy to do his job?” Another male inquired. A young man by her standards, that drew up short to Cassian’s impressive height. He was lanky, certainly not as big as Cassian’s physique, but he was well-muscled and built strong.  

He was handsome, she supposed, plain by fae standards, but… handsome enough.

“He has more important affairs…” Cassian glowered, “like running a court.”

The male sneered at that and Cassian clenched his fists. The two Illyrians bristled, Cassian looking down at the male, the male sizing him up. Nesta thought they might settle it right here, in the middle of all of them watching.

She doubted the Illyrians would mind so much.

But a voice broke out from the silence, and Nesta stood on her toes, her neck reaching to see a male wading through the crowd. The lines parting for him.

“Now. Now. Our High Lord is busy settling the conditions of the state. We were in a war after all.”  

To Nesta, the male looked like Father Time. Sleepy and white. His skin pale and grey. His hair seeming to be dipped in winter. For some reason, looking at him made Nesta want to yawn, and she imagined falling asleep to the rhythm of clock hands turning.  

Cassian dipped his head at the male who extended a solemn hand, “Lord Ymran.”

“General,” the male bowed, his voice light and eager.  

Cassian turned towards Nesta, his hand casually drawing her forward.

The Illyrians did not so much as look at the female who emerged through the crowd, her head buried low in her arms. She was pregnant, Nesta noticed, but she moved quickly. Nesta passed the basket to her as she bowed her head and remained quiet beside them.  

“Our High Lord offers a token of appreciation for our stay and in regret of not offering greetings, himself, during Solstice.”

“So, he sends his dog in his stead? Tell me general, what’s it like sitting on his lap and licking up his leftover scraps,” The young Illyrian said, sneering as he eyed Nesta.  

Nesta could feel a tremor in her spine at the words. A deep roar like sound echoing in her mind, that surprised even her.

Cassian stepped closer and the camp lord, perhaps remembering where they were last year, remembered what they saw, raised a hand to the young male who would not be consoled.

“Kallon,” the camp lord warned.

Switching his attention to Cassian, he forced a grin. “How long do you intend on staying?”

“Until what we’ve set out for is accomplished,” Cassian answered vaguely.

“I’m afraid we have not made up a residence for you both,” Lord Ymran said, sizing up Nesta curiously.

As if on cue, the rest of the males did too, looking her over and under and somehow in between. She wanted a bath from all the looks that stared hungrily, and maybe some cleansing oil for the sneers. But Nesta did not shy away from their gaze, a fact she saw eat at Lord Ymran, whose brow twitched slightly.

“All of our houses are otherwise occupied.”

Cassian grabbed her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers as Nesta stared at him with subdued shock.

“We’ll find our way.” He said sternly, without looking at her.

The males began to disperse. But Cassian didn’t let go of her hand.

Nesta did not ask questions, preferring to save them until all of them had left. Except Lord Ymran, Kallon, and the camp lord would not leave. They stayed, standing as if Cassian himself had no right to dismiss them, as if they did not follow his orders.

A wall of Illyrians, she wanted to call the image. One segment of a fence. Barricaded by wings and blundering egos. It was Cassian who eventually submitted, pulling Nesta with him until he managed a distance beyond fae ears.

“Fuck,” Cassian yelled, swearing a list of Illyrian expletives she made sure to remember so Emerie could explain them to her later.

Nesta merely rolled her eyes as he punched at a pile of snow.  

~

“You raging buffoon,” She spoke, “Stop pulling me.”

“You walk so slow in those dresses,” Cassian goaded, continuing his hike through the village.

Most of the houses they past seemed empty compared to the hustle and bustle of Windhaven. There were no lights making way for shadowy figures. All of the lights were out. Nesta counted more than one window shut by thick curtains.

It was a ghost town. Quiet and eerie. Existence trapped behind memories and door frames and four wooden walls. It had her grasping for any signs of life.

Where was the fire? Where was the smoke?

“It’s not my fault you have legs as long as tree trunks,” She roared.

“Wouldn’t be an issue if you weren’t so stubborn about flying!”

Flying had quickly become a debate between the two. Though Cassian boasted she would become used to it sooner than later, that he flew gentler and with a greater care than his brothers, Nesta wasn’t at all convinced. She had asked to stop many times during the trip, puking behind bushes and trees. She wasn’t so keen on trying it again.

“You said it was only a block away!” Nesta yelled.  

“So!” Cassian replied indignantly, his voice getting higher as he got more upset. That was hardly her fault! Nesta thought, pulling her hand away from his grasp.

“So, a block away is walking distance,” She scoffed. “You’re just pissy that you lost.”

At his inquiring look, Nesta continued. “That little standoff you all had…”

He knew what she was talking about, of course. Nesta could see it in the way his nose scrunched up and his jaw clenched tightly.

“There was nothing to win,” Cassian dismissed, whipping forward as his wings almost hit her.

Nesta barely missed smacking them away.

“There is always something to win.”

But Cassian ignored her, stepping up to a building that was larger than the rest.

Like many of the other houses she noticed, a purple plant hung from the door, nailed to the wood in some omen that Nesta could only describe as aggravating. You don’t know what we are, the plant seemed to say. Even after all this time reading, you still know nothing.

She had a vague inclination to ask Cassian, even if it was beyond her better judgement, but he was already racing inside.

Nesta shook her head, muttering the words childish and fool.

She found him at the counter. An Illyrian flipping through a large book as Cassian spoke.

“I’m afraid most of our rooms are filled,” Nesta heard her say, though no regret filled her voice. “There’s a wedding this evening.”

The female gestured to the rich fabrics covering the walls and Nesta’s gaze trailed over the deep pinks and dark purples, the patterned oranges twisting their way up the fireplace, the door frames, and all of the tables filling up the warm space.

“I assume you and your wife will only need one room.”

“We’re not—” Nesta was quick to protest, whipping towards the desk.

“Yes. One room will be fine,” Cassian answered, pulling out a bag of coins that jostled on the countertop. The Innkeeper eyed it hungrily and Nesta wanted to snatch it away, demanding that the female recognize them as sworn enemies and not matrimonially tied.

In a series of what felt to be a cosmic joke, one room was not the worst outcome she’d find as they opened the door to their room.

Inside, covered with an abundance of furs, was a bed.

One bed.  

Cassian snorted at her look, his lips raising to one side as he held in a laugh.

Nesta ignored him, walking past and dropping her bag on the floor. She kicked it under the bed lest Cassian trip and go sprawling on top of her in the tiny room.

Cassian plopped on the mattress and Nesta grimaced at his shoes laying on the soft throws. He tucked his hands beneath his head and lounged. Grinning teasingly as he looked her over.

“I am not sleeping with you,” She warned.

Cassian laughed, “As if you’d get that honor.”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

“And you don’t?” He taunted.

Nesta ignored him, changing the subject in an effort to secure a victory.

“Who was that Illyrian? Lord Ymran.”

Cassian sat up suddenly serious and Nesta smirked inwardly at the win. “An old lord.”

“And his son?”

“Lord Ovis and the younger one is his son Kallon. But he’s not a lord,” Cassian grumbled. “Not yet.”

Nesta grabbed a sweater from her bag, folding it and setting it in one of the drawers.

“Lord Ymran seems... respectable enough.”

“He’s not.” Cassian remarked, not elaborating further.

Nesta wondered what he meant, but Cassian kicked off his boots closing his eyes as he leaned back into one of the many pillows.

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” Nesta asserted haughtily.

~

Cassian had left before her, but not without some convincing. She’d told him she’d wanted to change. He so helpfully remarked that he wasn’t stopping her. After two glares and three smart retorts, Cassian had left for the training fields. Nesta hadn’t asked where those were.  

She took the note Ira left her from her notebook, reading each letter in her perfect script. The name of each plant blooming behind her eyes. She knew three of them in Illyrian. Elleborum for the hellebore flower, iglika for primrose, and podsen for the snowdrop’s droopy petals.

Ira had mentioned a shop. Hard to find at first, but easy enough for someone as stubborn as Nesta. She’d asked the innkeeper if she’d known this shop, but the female had raised a nose and rudely said that if there was such a place Nesta certainly had no business going to it.

Her help had left Nesta with little option, but to walk around, scouring the village herself.

Two hours later she’d yet to find the shop, but oh did she find the training fields.

Sweat dripped down Cassian’s back, and Nesta tried not to crumble the paper in her hands as she took in his shirtless form. His tattoos crawled down his back like a finger running down his spine and Nesta swallowed lightly. Some voice in her head chastising him for being shirtless in the middle of winter.  

She watched as he tumbled with another male in the ring, the Illyrian raising his fist as Cassian punched from below, kicking him so far the male rammed into a set of wooden planks set out for seating. Another male entered the ring and though he lunged at Cassian, he was quick to deflect. The end of his palm going straight to the male’s nose.

Nesta blinked at the aggression, trying not to wince at the splattered blood. Cassian must have sensed her there because he looked back and grinned defiantly. His canines bright and dangerous.

At his stare, Nesta yawned, tapping her mouth as if she’d seem much more impressive things.

His eyes burned at that, and Nesta smirked playfully, dipping her head in mocking salutations as another male came running from behind, kicking out his legs as Cassian fell and they carried on with their ruckus in the rings.

She continued on her way, kicking up her boots as she counted all the buildings.

There were fifteen before the mountain had skewed upwards, twelve on the upper level. Seven as the height grew higher, and none of the businesses had the letters she could draw in her sleep, that Nesta had come to associate with infirmary, plants, herbs or even the word shop.

She gave up after house thirty-five, her shoulders slumping through the inn’s doorway. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of baked bread, and it was only then Nesta realized she’d missed dinner.  

Nesta blinked at the changed scene before her, twisting her head to peer behind her as if she’d entered the wrong building.  

The place had only been half decorated when Nesta left, but now… Silk woven tapestries covered the walls and bundles of fabric fell in every corner, so much that Nesta felt entrapped by the purple and orange glow. She was in the middle of a pillow fort, she felt, rather than an inn turned wedding hall.

Nesta followed the colors down a narrow hall until she met an open doorway that emptied into light.

Candles glittered through the aisle and though Nesta wanted to snide at the impracticality of blushing brides burning before they said, “I do,” the romantic part of her brain took notes.

Illyrians were already gathered in their seats, talking low, their voices thrumming with joyous song.

Nesta crouched low as the music sounded and made her way to an empty seat in the back. Inconspicuous enough that no one would see her as they celebrated the couple she had yet to see. Or so Nesta thought, because the minute she sat, arching her neck to get a better view, a finger poked at her side.

Nesta yelped as Cassian shushed her.

“It’s about to start,” he whispered gruffly.

He maneuvered to sit, but his wings brushed against her hair, a talon snagging on her braids. Nesta gave him a murderous look as she patted her hair down, Cassian failing to hide his snicker.

“Shh,” Nesta answered in reply.

The groom entered from the side, walking to the podium as he made greetings to the people at front. The fabric of his wings were etched in gold paint, a collection of tiny points and whirls like Cassian’s tattoos. Nesta grasped it all, the male smiling as an older female came to bring him a wreath of magnolias.

Nesta was afraid to take a breath as the subtle strings of a mandolin started, the soft thrum of drums. The sounds of heartbeats, she thought, and something more fervent—like a budding flower being dipped in sweet honey until the dew tasted of desire. Of dreams.

The groom loved his bride, Nesta could tell by his look, had perhaps dreamt of her long before the admission had been uttered from his lips.

They did not have to wait long for Nesta to see that the bride too loved the groom. A hush fell over the room as the doors opened, the procession standing at her image.

The bride’s brown skin glowed with gold; her wings as covered as the grooms. With those markings that whispered dreams in their ears. And the groom looked happy, truly happy to see the female glide forward. Her smile bright enough to light the room.

Cassian didn’t utter a word beside her, and Nesta looked at him, suddenly concerned that he had stayed quiet for so long.

He only stared at her softly, his chin resting in his palm.

“The wedding is that way.” She grumbled, watching as a ribbon was twisted around the couple’s joined hands.

What did it all mean? Nesta wanted to know. But Cassian leaned closer, and Nesta blinked as his body neared hers, their heads so close she refused to swallow in fear that he could hear it like resounding bells.

“Red for honor…” Cassian recited; his words sweet to her ears. “Tied around the wrist for fidelity, knotted for bonds that will never be broken.”

Nesta watched as the bride grasped the chalice the priestess held towards her. Her arms, woven in bright red, reached out and she held the chalice up to the groom's lips.

“A sip of wine for abundance, drunk from the same cup for unity. May love be overflowing.”

“My blood is your blood,” She heard the couple repeat. “My glory is your glory.”

Cassian dipped his head, his lips so close to her ear Nesta wanted to shy away, but she held herself still, holding her breath as she willed her heart to stop beating so fast.

“The tie will not be severed,” He repeated as did the couple, “for they are made of strengthened bonds. Love has won all battles.”

The priestess did not untie the knot, but rather let their wrists slip through the loops, so that when they were free the bride and the groom came together in a kiss.

Nesta’s heart swelled for them both.

“After this, they’ll burn the ribbon,” Cassian explained in hushed tones. Indeed, the priestess handed the couple a lit candle, the flame waving to and fro as it was jostled around.

“What happens next?” Nesta asked as if in a trance.

A wicked gleam settled in his gaze and Nesta immediately regretted her words.

“There’ll be a reception. Song and dance, and then they’ll fly off to some location in the mountains. Undisturbed, of course. The best part of the whole thing, I imagine.”

Nesta snorted, “How romantic.”

“How about you Nesta?” He teased, “Do you wish to be swept off your feet—fly to some unknown cabin where you’ll ravaged for hours.”

Nesta gave him a sidelong glance, as he leaned back in his chair, cool in his plain shirt and his loose pants sitting low.  

Where did the advantage lie?

“I think that if there were truly someone who could ravage me for hours, I might skip the wedding entirely.”

Cassian huffed a laugh. “I don’t know. You strike me as the type to want the whole ceremony. Don’t tell me you’ve never planned your wedding when you were young.”

“Why? Did you?” She inquired, pursing her lips. “Now, were you the one in the dress? Or did you just like imagining someone who’d want you for more than a few hours?”

Cassian paused at the words and so did Nesta. The soft strum of the mandolin melting away and leaving only hollow echoes in its stead. She swallowed the regret away as his gaze turned to frigid ice.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta cut him off with a flare of her hand.

“Don’t bother.” She stood abruptly, the creak of the chair loud enough that Illyrians glared her way. She scowled back, looking to Cassian as her body towered over him. “I’m going to bed.”  

Nesta brushed away the magnolia petals falling as the crowd began to throw them at the blissful pair. She cut them off at the door.

At least they had each other, Nesta remedied, swatting the guilt away.

Who did she have?

~

It was uncommonly warm in the small room, with the heat from the kitchens wafting up. There was no need for the chimney, so Cassian had not started a fire. A fact she was both grateful for and perturbed by because the darkness seemed to make her rattle in her skin. People laughed through the walls, through the floors, and Nesta felt their voices vibrate in her bones. She could hear the sharp edge of glasses breaking, the cheers and music drifting through the wood and furs and Nesta tried not to make the bed creak as she turned, clutching the blankets to her chest.

She peered at Cassian, lying on the floor even after all of his complaints, but he turned towards her suddenly and Nesta squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be covered by sleep’s endless throws…

When she opened them again, Cassian was staring at the ceiling, his eyes bright even in the dark. His wings tucked between the bed and the wall, one of his talons angling oddly. Nesta couldn’t imagine it was comfortable and some brave part of her, the part that had become unhindered in the darkness, wanted to tell him he could share her bed.

She quickly clutched the quilt to her mouth.

Even in all the noise, she could hear him breathing, hear the sweet rhythm of his heart beat on and on. One thump after the next. Nesta wondered if he could hear hers too or if like Feyre had once said, he’d learned to tune hers out.

The thought made her sink into the mattress, her knees coming to her chest.  

“They don’t like us here.” Cassian spoke, his voice as soft as sheets.

She caught his gaze in the moment, Cassian shifting until they lied facing each other. Nesta pretended his words were the beginning of a bedtime story, but Cassian didn’t paint worlds with his tongue. He just looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

Perhaps, she should have said something, voiced that he was wrong or agreed that he was right.  

But Nesta suddenly exhausted and heavy burdened, only turned away. She closed her eyes as she settled, tucking a hand beneath her pillow.

What could she have said anyways, she asked herself.

Why would she, Nesta probed.

But the answer had already clanged in her chest, the space hollow and unfilled. Her soul left desolate and bare.

Empty.  

She would not comfort him, she thought. There was no comfort for the unwanted. The unloved. They only had each other here in this dark room, and Nesta would not make him feel better when he was all she had.

And so Nesta let sleep claim her, tucking wishes into bottles, grasping stars for a tomorrow that would never come.

Cassian deserved to feel the bitterness seep into his skin.

For it had surely seeped in hers.

~

Tagged:  @my-fan-side  @ekaterinakostrova  @anastasia-orlov @lord-douglas-the-third @autumnsletters @soitsgorgeous @sjm-things @courtofjurdan @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives

~

Sorry for the late update! I got sick, but I’m mostly better now! Also oof this chapter needs a lot of work. I’m going to have to edit these last few chapters soon. 

I was feeling this chapter when I first wrote it and today my brain was like nope not today. So I’m a little bit disappointed with it. But I’ll fix it eventually. At least it’s own in the world. 

Also, You’ll notice a lot of times, I have many Illyrian women being in the center of these stories. Mostly, that’s because starting off it’s Nesta’s POV and of course she’d see mostly women. But it’s also because I want to imagine Illyrian culture. And culture and society are built on the backs of women. Food, celebrations, stories, teaching, language by that extent, cultural practices. Especially in a society where men would have a specific role to be the warriors, merchants, weapon masters, business owners, the people who are sustaining every day life would be women as mundane and trapping as that might seem to maybe Cassian or Rhys or Azriel. 

Not to say that women are not disadvantaged as SJM has described, just that the way these men may see disenfranchisement, may in itself be another sort of cage. So I hope to eventually distinguish that between their two POVs. This very biased “feminist” view from Cassian who says that females need to learn to fight to gain this elusive equality and subsequent protection for themselves. And Nesta’s POV who has seen the world with a very traditional mindset of marriage, virginity, ballgowns, and poise, who has learned and experienced that those things create barriers for women. Who herself feels trapped in her body as a fae, but even before is trapped in a society she doesn’t fit in, who then learns her world is a lie and everyone in it a liar. So, personally, I would think that Nesta could see what Cassian can’t, that women are not just “doing chores.” There is some importance in child rearing, in feeding the village, in domesticity, even if they still do need to expand the rights of women. This is not a weakness, but rather one facet of power. 

This is also why I tend not to have Nesta completely dismissed by all these females either. because I feel it would be easier to infiltrate the ranks of women as a women rather than say Cassian offering his money or power or sympathy. Especially when Nesta’s character is someone who can relate so well.  

Anyways, I don’t know if that makes sense or if it’s is coming across well, and I don’t know if I should continue analyzing my own fic, but I guess let me know if that’s something y’all are interested in me continuing throughout the chapters. 

Like, reblog, comment... and Happy Reading! :D

[asstrologyst]

More Than A Woman (Intro)

More Than A Woman - After surviving the events of Endgame, Tony Stark has become a recluse. Spending day after day in his workshop without letting anyone in, he finds not only a new way to cope with his PTSD, but something he hadn’t had in so long; a friend. What happens when this new friend develops thoughts and feelings of her own, especially toward a certain super soldier?

A/N: I was listening to More Than A Woman by the singer Aaliyah when this idea came to mind. It’s something that’s lingered in my head for at least a year and now that I’ve got hella free time, I’m ready to give it a go! I hope you guys like the intro! - D. (Sorry it’s so short! Also had to reupload on my phone cause Tumblr flagged it for some reason.)

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Android!Reader (Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Angst/Mentions of PTSD & Depression/Artificial Humans/ Fluffy ending. (It’ll get smuttier & fluffier at some point lol)

If there was one thing Anthony Edward Stark was good at, it was bad ideas. And it was this bad idea that had been spawned from something oh, so human.

Loneliness.

Ever since the events of that day, Tony had spent his days locked away in his workshop on his own. Tinkering away at anything that took his mind of the constant pain that shot throughout the right side of his body whenever he lifted a single finger. And god, it didn’t look any better. He tried to ignore the constant looks he got whenever he did manage to make himself go outside on the rare occasion.

But this was his way of coping with things and damn it, it helped. Sure, it may not have been a healthy thing. Locking yourself away for weeks at a time and refusing to speak to anyone was a giant red flag for unhealthy tendencies and was certainly not normal at all. But then again, was anything really normal about Tony’s life? His wife, Pepper, was the smartest woman he knew and was far too busy helping repair the world after the snap. His daughter, Morgan, was growing up herself and had Happy to watch over her at the time being. And fuck, did Tony needed this break.

He needed to do something. To build something. Something that showed that no, he wasn’t completely broken and incapable now. He wasn’t just mangled and fucked up for nothing. He could still do something. Anything.

That’s when it came to him.

What if he didn’t have to be alone?

Sure, he had Pepper and Morgan. He had Happy and the team, but given his circumstances, he couldn’t stand them seeing him like this. More importantly, he couldn’t stand the pity he’d get. That’s why he needed someone to vent to. Someone who wouldn’t judge him or see him as a weak old man trying to keep up with the big dogs. No, he needed someone different.

Sitting up in his chair, Tony hastily grabbed the crumpled notepad that had been sitting by his desk for weeks, along with the half-broken pencil and began at his best attempt to sketch a human body.

He started out with a head. dragging his pencil along the paper, outlining the shape of it. He created ears, eyes, lips and a nose. Then came the body parts. Arms, legs and feet. Toes, fingers and nails. All that jazz. Until finally, he had the perfect outline of the person who’d unknowingly would save him from his self isolating turmoil.

Seventy-Two hours.

Seventy-Two hours was how long it took, but judging from how detailed everything looked, Tony would say it was worth it. Every single eyelash to every single fingernail looked so…real. One would think that an actual human being was laying on the table before them if they saw you. It was at this moment that Tony had felt somethings he hadn’t felt in so long.

Excitement.

Happiness.

Ambition.

All the things that made him who he was before and in just a few seconds, his new creation, a new chapter in his life would be opened. As if he were touching the gentlest material in the world, Tony placed his fingers on the android’s chin and tilted its head to the side, revealing a small USB-like port behind its right ear. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, revealing a tiny microchip – or as he liked to call it, your brain.

His hands trembled with excitement as he slid the tiny metal square into the robot’s head and practically jolted backwards with excitement. And like clockwork, he heard the familiar sounds of a machine turning on, the mechanical properties humming with the sounds of life.

The second you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was white. You couldn’t register a thing, only the sight of brightness clouding your vision. What it was, you had no idea. Who it was, you had no clue. But within seconds, the bright light faded into something that made your head spin. You blinked rapidly as your eyes took in your surroundings.

The giant fluorescent lights beaming down on you made you wince and for the first time, you felt pain. Even if it was dull, it still felt like something and that’s what made your eyes nearly shoot out of your head with how wide they opened.

Your first breaths were rapid, taking in large quantities of air and expelling it even faster as you experienced your first anxiety attack. Where were you? What was this place? But most importantly – what were you?

Glancing down at your hands, you moved your fingers for the first time in sync with each other, eyes big with disbelief. Moving your gaze downward, you noticed two legs and two feet resting against the large operating table.

“I take it this must all be a bit of a shock to you, hehe.”

The sound of a deep, yet calm voice caused you to nearly jump out of your artificial skin. Sitting upwards in a flash, you opened your trembling mouth as you fought to process what in the world was happening. There you were, cold and afraid and with a strange…thing that looked as though it had the same mechanics, beaming down at you like you were something edible.

“You probably have no idea what the hell is going on,” He acknowledged. “Do you?”

It took quite a bit for you to muster up the courage for you to shake your head and when you did, he let out a nervous laugh. One that you found yourself letting out, too. Surprisingly.

“It’s a defense mechanism, kiddo. Don’t worry, I coded it for you to help you out.” He informed you as he grabbed what looked like to you, was a giant light-up rectangle, before tapping away at it in a haste.

Setting it back down with a small clank, you watched as he grabbed some kind of object with wheels and scooted himself closer toward you, which instantly made you scoot further from him on the table. Noticing this, his smile faded and was replaced with a concerned frown.

“Look, kid. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reasoned, holding out his hand. “I’m a friend.”

“F-Friend?” You stammered, furrowing your brows. Confusion wasn’t a good experience for you, Tony figured that, so he did what he did best. He improvised. Peering around the room, looking for something that could help him and calculating the reaction you’d have in his mind, he finally broke out into a grin when he spotted the little silver baggie on the desk in front of him.

Picking it up, he slowly and carefully, held it out to you. “Blueberry?”

“What the heck is a blueberry?” You felt yourself blurt out before clamping your mouth shut with your hand. The laugh that echoed the room was something you didn’t expect from the strange man sitting in front of you and for the first time, you felt a new emotion: ease.

“It’s a fruit.” He chuckled, taking one out and holding it in front of you. “Check it out, not only is it nutritious, it’s also delicious.”

You don’t know how or what you were doing when you felt your cheeks move upward and your teeth become exposed to the chilling air in the room, but unlike the first emotion – which horrified you – this one was pleasant. You didn’t mind it one bit.

“There we go! That’s what I like to see.” The man smiled at you pridefully.

“What…was that?” You asked, the smile seemingly glued to your face.

“It’s called a smile, sweet cheeks. Get used to it.” He informed you before scooting closer. “Now, how about we get you a name?”

You paused, staring at him and expecting him to explain what a name was and why you needed one. “It’s what I’ll be referring you as, for now.” Taking the hint, he placed his hand onto his chin, stroking his beard playfully as he stared at you as though you were some kind of painting that needed to be seen from a certain angle to understand.

“Sharon?” He offered.

You winced, shaking your head.

“Lucy?”

You raised an eyebrow. He let out a snort and shook his head.

“What about…. Y/N?”

You paused, this time, you felt something different inside of you. From deep within a place you couldn’t pinpoint. Feeling your cheeks move upward again and your eyes twinkle, you knew whatever this feeling you get when you were called this, it was more than just a pleasant feeling. It felt good.

“I like that name.” You admitted, repeating it under your breath once again and smiling even bigger. “It’s beautiful.”

“And it fits you, too. Way better than Sharon.” He admitted with a dopey smile, one that made you experience laughter for the first time. You decided that that was your favorite one. Laughter.

“Well, Y/N,” He spoke softly, holding out his hand to you, which you reluctantly took, standing from the table. “My name is Tony.”

You finally had a name for this strange man that brought you to life so suddenly and it felt good knowing that you weren’t the only one with a name. You had begun to build a list of questions, ones that you knew you’d need answered. What was this stretchy stuff covering your skeleton? What was the wet slimy thing in your mouth that moved when you spoke?

You wanted to know everything.

“Welcome to life, kiddo.” He turned, showing you his giant room filled with all sorts of trinkets, objects far too advanced for your knowledge at that point, but fascinated you nevertheless. “It’s gonna be a wild ride.”

For the first time, you weren’t the only one that experienced this emotion: Hope.

[evolsinner]

⊱┊14

i awake to footsteps rushing up and down the staircase, the kind where you're late for something. not only does that tell me that it's morning time, but the fact that there's blinding sunlight shining through the thinnest crack in the curtains where both sides meet in the centre.

kayrem's sleeping on his stomach, all sprawled out. his pale back with beauty marks sprinkled all over makes me weak, but his ash brown hair brings me back to my senses; it ain't fucking ink black!

"kayrem, you gotta wake up."

he needs to get the fuck out, like, now.

"mmm, marie.." he mumbles, rolling over so that he's facing me, "a little while longer.."

"no, kayrem."

he mumbles again, pulling the covers over himself as a refusal, but this action also removes if off me.

"shit! don't look! don't look!" i quickly grab the covers again.

he literally laughs in his half~asleep state.

"so not funny," i mutter, flustered.

"i don't know why you're freaking out," he murmurs nonchalantly. "i was in you last night, marie."

the heat instantly rushes to my cheeks. some part of me wished he had forgotten, that we both had forgotten. i don't regret it, but it's more like a weird feeling. i feel out of place. a puzzle piece that one tries to fit in the incorrect template. i feel...wrong.

"mum and dad are awake. they'll notice that you're missing from your room."

no answer.

"kayrem, get up, please," i urge.

no answer again.

guys after sex are so lazy.

i decide to get up first.

"cupcake, stay with me," kayrem grumbles, gripping my arm. "i like it when you're next to me..." the libido in his morning voice taunts me.

i clear my throat and wriggle free from his weak hold.

-ˋˏ ༻🥂༺ ˎˊ-

i'm on literally house arrest, my brother as my stupid babysitter! i’m hoisted up on the kitchen's wooden benchtop, watching tv on the other end of the room whilst munching on cereal.

our parents have gone off to finish the last of the reporters at the old house so we can move back in. maxi's at school, and kayrem...well, he's heading down the stairs ~ shirtless and in red flannel pj pants.

"morning, sunshine," kayrem smiles through his yawn.

"uh, mornin'," i purse my lips, hitting him with that co~worker smile.

he bites his bottom lip..seductively before going off to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "how'd you sleep?" he stands across from me, twisting the cap open.

is that a trick question or something?

"f~fine."

i continue taking spoonfuls of cornflakes, making sure to focus my attention on the tele and not on him. for whatever reason, my gaze returns back to him. ugh! i absorb in his skinny but lean frame. he pretends that he doesn't notice me evidently checking him out. i think he likes the attention...

"warm today, ain't it?" he gazes out the windows.

"um, yeah!" i reply rather too upbeat which makes the situation even awkwarder! quickly, i follow his scan out the windows to cool down my fluster away from his judgment.

he chuckles under his breath.

"what are you doing?" i anxiously question his sudden presence right in front of me.

"spread your legs."

“what?"

he places his hand on my knee and another hand on the other knee before firmly spreading them apart, then he comes in between them and whispers, "i'm hungry."

the bowl trembles in my grip.

"…for some cereal," he clarifies nonchalantly, lifting up my spoon and collecting some cornflakes on it.

i internally relax.

instead of bringing the spoon to his mouth, he brings it to my mouth. "open," he touches the spoon to my lips.

i open my mouth and he feeds me the spoonful like a baby. i start to chew when kayrem leans in and envelopes his mouth over mine. it catches me so off guard that the bowl i'm holding tilts and a little bit of the milk pours over his abs. he doesn't care though, rather, he deepens the kiss.

"most delicious fucking cereal i've ever tasted, cupcake," he says between the kiss, eating the cornflakes right out of my mouth.

i set the bowl aside and drag him closer between my legs as we make out. my breathing elevates and a sense of intense lust gushes through me. i am so angry at myself, but it’s his fault. he knows just how to make sure i'm his whenever he wants me to be his.

"wait, stop, we shouldn't," i retract.

"you practically told me to rape you last night, and now you want to back out?"

"it wasn't like that!" i snap.

"sorry, but i don't break promises, sis," he uses my words against me. "now lean back," he instructs. "i want another taste..." he adds in a whisper.

i get soft again.

a button, a zipper and a tug later, kayrem has his mouth against the base of my underwear.

"kayrem..!”

he sucks my folds over the fabric and toys with my clit. all the windows are completely uncovered; anyone can practically see in. i catch a glimpse of a car going past, and like a reflex, i kick kayrem in the shoulder. he stumbles back, confused and infatuated.

"no," i tell him like i'm taming a dog.

another car goes past and he sees me looking at it nervously.

"who the fuck cares if anyone sees? i'm just enjoying breakfast. no crime in that, babysis.”

like a dog to a bone, he returns and drags my underwear down. he begins sucking..licking..probing..swallowing. he really knows how to…eat.

"mm..fuck," i grind into his face, creating more friction for myself. "you've..." i throw my head back, "got to..." i grab his hair, "stop,” i push him deeper into myself.

"moan for me, baby, moan for me."

"ahh, fuck, kayrem, f~faster..!"

giving his tongue a break, he rams two fingers into me and begins pumping in and out vigorously. i go from a molten lava cake that's been cut in half to an active volcano.

"w~what's happening to me..?!"

"it's okay," he takes a step back. "you're squirting."

"what?!" i throw my palms over my vag, stopping the gush. it feels like i'm peeing!

"marie, christ, you look so damn fuckable right now," he observes me with broad, broad eyes. "effing wish you were sitting on my face."

"i don’t squirt," i say angrily.

"hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. guys dig that shit. you've actually made me a fuckload hornier."

"i'm not!" my eyes blur up.

"okay, okay," he quickly says. "it's okay, okay? i'll help you hide the evidence, cupcake," he smiles softly before reconnecting his lips with my wet folds, and just like that, he pumps my euphoria levels right back up.

"oh god, yesss," i scream. "oh my god!" i spot a familiar grey blob backing up into the driveway. "oh my goddd!"

kayrem continues.

"get off! get off!"

the car door shuts.

"get off!!!" i slap him hard on his back.

"ow!" he lifts his head up. "what the hell, marie?! you're so confusing!"

"mum's here!!"

keys dangle at the front door.

"what? she is?!" he glances out the window and sees her parked tesla. "oh fuck! fuck! what the fuck?! why the fuck?!"

i jump down, collect my pants and run behind the benchtop.

the door sways open.

"hey, mum!" i scream.

"jesus!" she holds a hand to her heart. "you startled me half to death, roséah."

"oops, aha! sorry, didn't mean to. um, why are you home?"

"forgot some important paperwork..." she answers me, looking around dubiously. her scan stops at kayrem as she watches him awkwardly eat the rest of what's actually called breakfast. "ahem, kayrem, please put on a shirt. you can't be walking around like that in front of your sister."

"oh," he looks at his chest, or past it, i can't tell. "uh..." and he faces me.

i shake my head at him questionably.

he gulps, licking his lips nervously.

"kayrem. shirt. now," mum dictates.

"right..mother..just.."

he's still staring at me in some code that i'm supposed to magically understand.

?!?!?!?!?

he glances at the fruit bowl which has a batch of bananas on the top.

so?

oh.

oh.

"this is bananas!" i scream again.

"jesus, roséah!" mum jumps in fright again. "what is with you?!"

"sorry," i cringe. "uh...would you like a banana?"

whilst her attention is fixed on me, kayrem slips away.

"no, and for the love of god, use your inside voice."

i nod, peeling up one for myself.

she leaves.

i roughly take a bite out of the fruit…yummy?

[onetuffbunny]

Werelunches

"What the fuck, Jackie."

This is most definitely not the first time he's heard this in his life or this week, and it definitely won't be the last. Bunny's awkwardly huddled in the shower, damp and cold, while his best mate sprays him down with mystery liquids that burn when they make contact with the angry parts of his skin. Peroxide or the other one? He's not sure. You can't expect him to keep track of things, not if you don't want them lost.

"I told you I was a werewolf," he replies. There is a delicious concoction of ice cream, crushed cookie bits, and fudge just out of reach that was meant to be his but it's probably going to melt before he can even drink it because you can't have ice cream while your wounds are being tended to. Being a werewolf blows.

"Yeah, well, you tell me you're a wizard all the time but I've never seen you shoot a fireball."

"I'm not that kind of wizard," he grumbles.

"Jesus," she continues, "the fuck are we supposed to do with this? Obviously, you can't fucking go out in public when you're some kind of creature of the night."

"Obviously," he agrees. "I just gotta learn to control it, man. I mean, it can't last forever, yeah? I just gotta attune myself to my inner wolfman frequencies and embrace the beast within or whatever. Sounds right."

"So, you have to eat like chipmunks now or what? Is that what wolfmen do? With teeth like that, obviously you're meant to chomp on things."

She sprays him again. It stings.

"Aw, shit, I hope not. I don't want to eat a little guy."

He thinks a minute.

"Deer sounds kinda nice though."

"Oh, dude, it's not hunting season," R.A. says. "You can't because of conservation."

"The wolf cares not for the laws of man," says Bunny. "Also, like, I'm good. I probably can eat lunch meat just fine, maybe. I dunno. Dogs can eat lunchmeat just fine and that's just a wolf with extra steps."

"It's got mad sodium. You can't give a dog too much sodium. We can't take you to the vet if you have too much salt."

Another spray.

"Man, I'm a rabbit. How much you think rabbits know about dog food? Nothing."

"Well, we gotta figure out what you're supposed to eat and I know it's not fruit. You're being real nonchalant about this you know? Jesus. What the fuck, man, what the fuck."

He shrugs.

"When faced with the strange and unusual, we can either deny reality, accept it, or, persnaps, get real weird with it. It's fine. I told you woods folk were real."

Also, if he acts completely casual about his ongoing transformation into something clearly no longer human, that means it's fine and he's okay and everything is just groovy, just a real good time. He's not in pain. He's not scared. He's real good at pointing the finger guns at people with a goofy grin so they don't suspect shit.

R.A. gives him a real stern look because she knows bullshit when she sees it and gestures at his entire everything.

"You think this is fine, man? Because you can't walk. We're going to have to bandage so much of you. You got paws, man."

"Peets for feets is neats," says Bunny.

"Christ, what if you eat people, Bun?"

He had not actually contemplated this but shit, werewolves love eating people, don't they? He doesn't have it in him to eat people, not even assholes.

"I don't want to eat you," he says, "so I probably don't."

Don't, can't, won't, not happening.

"Probably isn't good enough, dude," she says because she's always had more common sense than him. "You gotta work that out and quick. And obviously, you can't be going around showing your face around people or else the U.S. government is going to steal your kidneys for science, so no leaving the woods, no showing your face around no one, and don't go streaming or I'm selling all your Disney shit on the Internet. Hey, stop squirming, jackass. This isn't disinfecting itself."

"Y'know, you're being awful nonchalant about this yourself and you accuse me of crimes," Bunny says like this is really the most important matter at hand and not the fact that he's nine feet tall with knives for teeth.

"Dude, someone has to take care of business and it clearly isn't going to be you. I love you, man, but Jackie, what the fuck."

It turns out that werewolves do not eat lunch meat. They also do not eat protein shakes or TV dinners or even those little juice boxes you give to four year olds because they refuse to drink anything that doesn't come in box or carton form. They don't even eat their favorite ice cream.

Shit. He really hoped he didn't have to resort to chipmunks. He's never going to be able to catch one of those little fuckers.