#Well for something i drew in 15 minutes its fine

[floydsteeth]

My headcannon of what Emidio looks like :3

Thanks @aide-falls for making the Emidio edit that gave me the idea to draw this

[docholligay]

Yeah before I respond to anything else, i'm making this its own post because I think y'all had a LOT of really fantastic ideas of how to deal with the Inevitable Suck and power through anyhow.

My thing ended up being: "Could I say I did my absolute best, and know it was true?" It did not go well today ahaha, I was dizzy, I swear to god I have never ever sweat like that before, but you know what? I did it. I did it, and I did not quit, and for me, the being fast is REALLY NICE, but the not quitting, that's what makes me feel good about myself. Did I push myself? Did I reach the end of my tether?

What I ended up doing is roughly this, playing a little running game I like to call, "Uh oh, you drew for the London marathon." I put in for the London marathon every year, because if you aren't British, you can't qualify, you have to lottery draw, (Or very very expensively buy your way in) which I think is totally fucking fair. I put in for it every year because it often takes YEARS to pull. I can't actually train for a marathon until Jewlet goes to school (Or i should say, I am unwilling to make the compromises to do so. That's more honest). You need a 15 minute mile over 26.2 miles to make the time cutoff. I have a theory that I can run half a mile, walk half a mile, for that distance, and make the time cutoff, and hate my life but cross. And you know what? THAT DID IT! Half a mile is great because it's fast enough that being able to speed walk is always JUST at the horizon, and then by the time I've walked half a mile I;m ready to try again. I told myself at the outset that sub-13 was the goal, and I made that, and I am happy enough with it. I can tell that I fought for it every mile, and I think that's a fair enough thing to ask of myself. If I can't be FAST, I can be TENACIOUS.

Yeah this is a really good point! Something I tell myself often is, "If I never fail, I'm not finding the end of the rope" and at the end of the rope is where we find success. I think you and I have talked about this before but I've heard so often that people whose brains work like mine can't meditate, and I just don't think that's true, in that the basic idea of meditation helps me get back to sleep better than most things, but I had to get out of the way the idea that "You have to clear your mind of everything" is the only pathway to success. Teaching myself to nonjudgmentally tell myself "We're not dealing with that right now" has been insanely helpful.

I do tend sometimes to be out of my mind, but yes! If you go, "I want to stop," and let the answer be, "Hm. Sounds like a you problem," I know I always feel like I've pushed it, and that's important to me, to feel like I've driven myself past the point. Today I think i maybe even overplayed my hand a little--I sat in a quiet hallway of the Y for a good ten minutes after the run before I tried walking to the locker room, and i had sweat so damn much that I was shivering ahahah. But I'm totally fine now, all to the good, a little tired but i feel like I did something good and tough today, and that matters to me.

[miaisagirllover]

starcourt mall

chap 2 of my fic “it almost worked” you can read the first chapter on tumblr or ao3

When Will woke up, everything seemed normal. He just ate breakfast, made some progress on a summer project and drew some sketches of his room. He also called Max to apologise for shouting at her a few days ago. She accepted it and they had a nice chat for a few minutes. But then at dinner, his mom wanted to talk to him. Will knew the signs, she was a bit more quiet and was staring at him from across the table. After a few minutes, she finally asked him something.

“Will, can I talk to you for a bit?” Joyce asked.

“Sure, Mom.” Will replied wearily, knowing what it might be about.

“I’ve just noticed that you’ve been acting a bit odd after, y’know, last October. And I just want to let you know that you can talk to me about anything on your mind,” She paused for a bit “But try leave the boy issues with Jonathan.” she added humorously.

Will seriously contemplated telling her about how the exorcism failed. This was just too big to hide, and what about the long-term? What if he hurt his mom,brother or friends? He was about to say it, but then that voice again spoke up. *No*, it demanded, *don’t tell her*. Will took a moment to think.

“Do you mind if I go to my room quickly? I’ll be quick.” he said hastily.

“Will, honey, what’s wrong?” Joyce enquired

“Mom! I’m fine, can I just go for a bit?” Will shouted.

Joyce was taken aback. Usually Will was quite sweet and quiet, so what had happened for this major personality change?

“Alright,” Joyce replied “But please don’t shout at me like that again.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Will sounded much more meek than before.

As soon as he left and went into his room, he started shaking. He didn’t know whether it was because he had just shouted at his own mother or because he was cold. Maybe it was both, Will didn’t even know himself anymore.

He’d never had an attitude like that, especially to his own mother for fucks sake, except now he did have one with because Will didn’t even have full control over his body and it had the potential to ruin all his friendships. But for some reason, he couldn’t tell anyone what was going on. Every time he tried, some instinct in his head just stopped him. Maybe it was some selfish self-protection. After a few minutes, Will decided to leave the bathroom and just try to convince his mother that he was all fine.

“So, are you sure you’re ok now?” Joyce asked.

“Yea, do you mind if I go to Starcourt?” Will requested.

“Sure, just remember curfew at-“

“9:45, I know,” Will interrupted “Bye, Mom.”

Will then left the house to go get his bike and ride it to the mall. He wanted to get there early to talk to Mike. Outings like these were some of the only times he got to talk to him because most of this summer, Mike was making with El and too “busy” to hang out. Will never understood how someone could be busy with just kissing. It should take just 2 seconds for a smooch and 10 seconds (and that is the pure maximum) for a makeout. How do guys do that with girls for hours on end?? Everyone that Will knew was in a relationship. His brother was dating Nancy, Lucas was with Max now, and Mike couldn’t keep his lips away from El. Maybe even Dustin had met a girl at science camp.

After 15 minutes of biking, Will finally reached Starcourt. Since it was the evening, the mall was lit up with its name in bright neon lights. Next to the bike racks, Lucas and Max were talking with eachother. Mike wasn’t there.

“Hey guys!” Will greeted

“Oh hey, Will, do you know where that dumbass is?” Max asked

“I didn’t see Mike, probably busy kissing El.” He answered, laughing a bit. He’d only known Max for 10 months, but they’d got on really well. And if there was one thing anyone should know about Max Mayfield, it was that she and Mike didn’t get on well. Will didn’t know the specifics of their rivalry, as he was in the hospital for most of it, but he knew the general idea; Mike didn’t want her in the party but Max wanted to join.

A car then pulled into the parking lot and 2 people came out. It was Mike and his sister, Nancy.

“Mike?” Lucas sounded extremely confused “Why the fuck is your sister here?”

“Our parents thought that he was spending too much time at Hopper’s cabin with El, so they asked me to take him.” Nancy replied “Plus, I need to do something here at the mall so it’s convenient for the both of us.”

“You just wanna talk to Steve and try get with him again!” Mike sneered

“Mike!” Nancy snapped “You know I’m dating Jonathan. You’re just mad that I’m preventing you from taking an hour detour to make out-“.

“Can we just go to the movie please? We’ll be late.” Mike firmly interrupted.

“Alright then, you guys can leave and I’ll follow on after.” Nancy said before whispering, “Jackass”

Will honestly thought Nancy had a point about Mike. He had barely been able to call on the phone or radio him on the walkie-talkie. At least Lucas and Max would be talking to each other, giving him and Mike some space to talk a bit.

It only took a minute for them to get to Scoops Ahoy so that they could use a secret corridor to get to the movies (granted, they were running through the crowds of mall-goers). Once they got to Scoops, they were dryly greeted by Robin, Steve’s coworker.

“Hey dingus, your children are here.” She drawled “Hey, Mike, where’s your sister?”

“Why do you need to know?” He replied

Just about as Robin was going to answer, Steve opened the door, letting them through the corridor.

“If anyone hears about this, you’re all-“

“Dead, we know” The party retorted

The kids honestly weren’t too discreet with going into the cinema. Anyone could’ve followed them and found out where they entered from, but that didn’t matter. Lucas was borderline running through the people in the seats.

Perfect, Will thought. Lucas and Max were a row above him and Mike. Maybe he could talk to him during the ads or after the film. His attention was diverted by the room going dark and the movie starting. But after a few minutes, the screen paused before going dark. Everyone in the cinema, including Will, started shouting in disappointment. But then a feeling suddenly came over him. It was coming from his neck, but it quickly spread all over his whole body. It felt like spiders were crawling on him, like he was drowning and burnt all at once. Will immediately started to get worried. The only time he had felt like this was on the field. It was the worst feeling he had ever had. But someone noticed Will’s zoned-out expression.

“Will, are you ok?” Mike asked.

“Yea, I’m fine.” Will said, but then suddenly he felt like he needed to leave now. He got out of his seat and ran out of the cinema. As he was leaving, he was shouting at people to move. Usually, he would always say “sorry” and “excuse me”, but he couldn’t bother with all of the pleasantries right now. Where would he go now? Considering that he was starting to feel like vomiting, Will decided to go to the bathroom.

Great, it was empty. He rushed into a stall and knelt at a toilet. It took only a few minutes before he started throwing up more than he ever had in his life. Then the lights started to flicker, and he knew what that meant. Will hid in the corner of the stall, until it stopped. But when it did, someone started speaking, to him. The voice wasn’t familiar, nor was it human, but it seemed to know him.

Give in, Will, you know you should, what else do you have to lose? Your life has been a train wreck, but I could help. And every part of Will’s body was saying no, that he should resist. What did this thing know about his life? But that instinct, the same one that prevented him from telling anyone the truth, it was saying something different. Will decided to exit the stall and see what this thing was, but when he did, no one was there. It was just him. But just before he was going to open the door, an excruciating pain shot through his body. The last thing he remembered before passing out was being balled up on the floor from pain, and 2 people running in.

“Will! Are you ok?” “What happened?” “Are you hurt?” “Should we take him home?”

Will opened his eyes, with the aftertaste of vomit still lingering in his mouth. The first thing he saw was that he was still in the bathroom, just not alone anymore. He saw 2 blurry figures, one with raven black hair and the other with flaming ginger hair. They were Mike and Max.

“What happened?” Will groggily asked his friends. All he remembered was pain, passing out and waking up.

“We wanted to check on you ‘cause you gone for so long and we looked here and saw you convulsing. You were saying something about ‘not this time’ and ‘give in’ but maybe you were just out of it.” Mike tried to keep his voice stable, but he clearly wasn’t hiding it well. He was as pale as a ghost, and was shaking even when holding Will’s hand.

“Where’s Lucas?” Will enquired. He wasn’t anywhere in his field for vision.

“We sent him to get Steve and Robin,” Max replied “And don’t even try say that you’re okay, you were muttering weird shit and having a fucking seizure.”

Just as she said that, Robin came through the door, with Lucas swiftly behind her

“Steve left early today, something about a chick and a date, so it’s just me. How are you feeling? Do you need me to get,like, an ambulance or anything? Because your friend said you had a seizure and those can be very serious.” Robin very quickly said. Will couldn’t take half of what she said in because of the speed of her talking.

“Guys, I swear I’m fine. Can I just go home a bit early, I’m tired.” Will lied unconvincingly

“Sure you can go home, but I’m coming with you.” Mike said firmly. Will decided that was fine. As long as Mike didn’t tell his mom, everything would be fine. Everyone filed out of the mall, except Robin, who needed to finish her shift. Max and Lucas grabbed their bikes and left first, giving Mike and Will some space to talk.

“So, are you sure you’re ok?” Mike asked as they rode their bikes “Because whatever happened in the bathroom looked a lot like what happened near those tunnels last year.” Will immediately felt a sense of worry go through his body.

He’ll find out, lie to him, that voice suggested. It was louder and more present now. Will hadn’t… No he couldn’t have.

“Mike, I get that you’re concerned, but i’m fine now.” Will answered “Remember, I had the Mind Flayer steamed out of me, and El closed the gate, so everything’s fine.”

“Will, you’re hiding something from me, I can tell. You can tell me anything, we’ve been friends since kindergart-“

“Yea, well sometimes it doesn’t feel like that, does it, Mike?” Will muttered.

“Huh? What did you say?” Mike asked.

“Nothing, anyways we’re at my house, bye Mike.” Will replied, before hopping off of his bike and going into his home.

“Hey, you’re back early, are you ok?” Joyce asked.

“Yea, I’m fine, I just wanna sleep. Long night.” Will replied. He kicked off his shoes before rushing into his room. He decided to look through his drawings to try calm himself down. Drawings of the party as their DnD characters, campaign ideas, sketches of Mike. Will went onto his bed to just think. Why did he start shaking on the floor, saying some weird shit? Max said that he was saying “give up” and “let me in”. He didn’t let it in, did he?

[chunky-ruckus]

I'm probably going to remove this chapter from Itty Bitty- it just doesn't fit- but I like it well enough to save. I'm keeping it here, on my OC blog, and I'm not sure if I should put it back on ao3 as something else? An outtake of some sort? Generally I hate getting rid of my writing / making it inacessable to others. Lmk I guess, it's just kinda.... Self indulgent bs anyway (not in a bad way) lol

___

Another morning.

More and more, you believe you were destined to die on Alt-

Aaah, wait a minute. Depression, you sly dog, you think. You almost had me using groundhog’s day as both a metaphor and a plot device. The bitch is good, but you got her number. And you refuse to booty call on this fine, foggy evening.

And it is fine and foggy. The espresso machine gives its awful death gurgle just like every morning, but you can’t see the lonely subgrubs beneath you, and so you get to skip making a new penguin analogy completely. You consider a silent hill analogy, bringing your hand to your chin in deep thought. It’s ten minutes wasted, and 15 hours 50 minutes to go before you can reasonably go to sleep again.

Haha. This sucks, man. 

You check your calendar, Maybe you have some more, secret events scheduled? But, save for the lonely event a week ago, there’s nothing. 

It occurs to you that you can schedule your own events. And why shouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t you put things in your calendar that you’ve already been doing? As a treat?

Fifteen minutes later. Stelsa would be so proud: your calendar app now has a streak of teal, those days where she’s got you on her calender. You suspect this is a secret plot device that will help you later.

Half an hour down since you woke up. You’re doing this. You’re making today happen.

...You’re staring blankly at your fridge. Which, to be fair, is adorned with pictures that Karako and Wanshi drew for you last time you visited the caverns. It’s so rare to see Karako at all, let alone with the jades.

The picture he drew of himself, protecting you with a psychic aura in pink and purple and your own body sprouting viscera like vines, is shockingly adorable. Wanshi’s companion piece, of her as a mother cat bringing you a piece of her hunt to share with kittycat!you (presumably not dead yet, which is quite a vote of confidence for your constitution) and kittycat!Karako (covered in blood and smiling one of those anime emoji smiles), is a bit more horrifying.

Ten more minutes down. 

You sigh. You know it’s up to you to get into some antics, some real shenanigans if you’re lucky, but your inspiration well is dry and frankly the Alternian dim season is fucking bleak. You’ve noticed more trolls lately are indulging in their violent tendencies. Everyone is moody and dark circles are more likely to be black eyes these days.

It’s going to be a long day.

It’s 1:30 when your pho- er, palmhusk starts buzzing.

You almost don’t recognize the sound over the humming of your fridge. How’s this for beating depression? You’re deep cleaning. Thinking about future meals. Considering a walk, even. Who’s doing it like you?

Shit. The palmhusk is still going hog fucking wild on your counter.

It occurs to you that you very rarely hear palmhusks buzz on this planet. In fact, you’ve set yours to do not disturb mode. You close the fridge- oops, you left the bottle of cleaning spray Marsti lent you- and check your phone.

Marvus is requesting to facetime. And here you were, thinking you’d have to come up with your own stupid bullshit for today. 

You slide the little button around on screen until you manage to answer.

“Ayooo,” he says, hair fanning around his shoulders- excluding his forelock, wrapped up in a little pink curler- as he reclines upside down on a bubblegum pink chaise. “Lunch time, baby, you ate yet?” He picks his teeth as if to sharpen them, readying himself for his own lunch. The muscles and tendons on his slender neck stand out like the waving arms of a crowd; it's mostly disconcerting, a little bit alluring.

“Already?” You knew it was after midnight, but connecting the dots of what time is it and when do you do the things that keep you alive is a bit beyond you right now. Your stomach rumbles. “I guess it is. No, I didn’t eat yet.”

“Real shit,” Marvus says. “Pick up whatever you want and bring it here.”

“I have,” you say, no shame left after the events of friendmageddon, “no money.”

“Yeah no shit,” Marvus twists his face at you, “but I got cash comin’ out both ends, babe. Catch me shitting singles.” Sounds like terrible news for the next stripper Marvus hires. “Catering place ain’t delivering today," they definitely are, "and my roadies are all setting up R N.” Oh, you hate that. He’s verbally conveying text talk? It would have been the same amount of syllables.

“You’re full of shit,” you say. “If you have so much money, buy some more guys to do your chores for you.” Your tone is only harsh in a playful sense, but you can’t help but laugh.

“Money can’t buy good company,” he says, winking. Leaning upside down has leant his face a boyish charm: all of what little fat he carries on his face has gravitated to his cheeks, and you can see a faint purple tint to his ears and hairline that shows he’s either blushing or about to faint from a head-rush. You can hear his heels thumping against the wall. A few trolls in the background are banging an accompanying beat onto what sounds like a table covered in plastic beads. Then Marvus’s face gets all mock-serious, too much squinting smile in his eyes to really scare you. “Man, hurry tha fuck UP if you’re tryna snack.”

“Send me a lift,” you say.

“Sheeeeesh,” he says, squinting his eyes, biting his lip, and bringing his L shaped fingers to his chin. “We love a gold digger.”

His eyes are starting to un-focus. Good, you hope he passes out in a silly little heap at your feet. Jerk. Clown. Asshole. You sigh affectionately.

“I’m serious. My whip,” you say, watching Marvus close his eyes and smile dreamily at your vernacular, “is outta gas.”

“Well my whip,” you watch him tap something on his palmhusk screen and nearly piss your pants when you hear a clown horn rendition of La Cucaracha horn right outside your window, “is already there.” When you look outside, some huge bug is scuttling horribly up the cliffside. Oh, the buggy- scuttle- scuttlebuggy? It looks like a vintage volkswagon, but stupid and with iridescent green-shifting-purple wings for doors. It’s carrying a pair of pink fuzzy dice in its... Grill? That seems to be the appropriate word: the gold plated mandible brings to mind both gold plated teeth and also the front of a car.

“It’s already paid for. Get ya’self something good,” Marvus says. Then he just hangs up on you.

Well. Beats deep cleaning your kitchen. Then again, your fridge can’t hang up on you.

Think of the devil, you hear something explode inside your fridge. You do not want to know.

You grab your coat and jump out of the window, towards Marvus’s scuttlebuggy.

“Too late, lapachka!” 

A huge clown in a striped shirt stops you at the door to the green room.

Another clown, half his size and with a half-shaved head, peeks her head from around him. “Don’t twist your willy, Silly, that’s Marvus’s-”

Marvus’s what, you’ll never be sure- maybe just Marvus’s, period- because yet another clown pushes her aside and stares down at the catering you’ve got stacked in your hands, mouth rounded and hands-to-cheeks in a delighted expression that only a clown could pull off.

“Marvus’s food, Mimz, back off.” Oh. You hope you aren’t included in that category. This stern clown is smaller than the other two, but is able to push them back into the green room.

The big guy- Silly?- sticks a sucker into his mouth and winks at you. “Za moe zdorov'e,” he says around the sweet.

The other, mime themed one- Mims?- reaches forward like a lover in a movie, desperate for a bite. You hope, for the second time that night, you aren’t a tasty treat for some clown cannibal.

“You know how he gets when he’s hungry.” The stern one pouts at them both, hands on her hips.

The clown signs something, and they all laugh.

“That’s soooo funny,” says the stern one, in a weird affectation of a valley girl accent, tilted slightly towards bored. 

“He’s so-” starts Silly, but steam starts coming out of his nose, and he sighs, sucking harder on the sucker.

The mime signs something at you, raising one brow.

“She’s asking if you’re here to eat,” says the stern one, a suggestive lilt to her tone.

“You think so?” says Silly. God, you can’t get a word in edgewise. And here you were, clowning for free. These guys are clearly professionals. “Maybe he wants an audience of one tonight.” He is no more endearing for his thick, russian-adjacent accent. You bristle. The clowns are laughing.

“The food is mine, actually,” you say, because you love getting killed with extreme prejudice by clowns.

The stern one smiles at you, nudging affectionately. “Sure,” she says. “So you aren’t sharing, zaychik?” She pouts. It's adorable, in the same way that a cougar is adorable until it GETS you.

The mime signs, puffing out her cheeks and pouting.

“We all paid something to be here,” Silly translates through a mouth of marshmallow.

They all look at you as one. You suspect they are only telling a half truth here. For the bit.

And you’re the punchline.

Silly comes back towards you. “Go,” he says, sticking the sucker in your mouth. It’s covered in saliva, but you can’t seem to spit it out. “Enjoy the show. Eat later.”

They slam the door behind you. You can hear the tearing of cheap takeout boxes, laughter, and the loud screaming of “bad ideas through this door: three for one special.”

Well, fuck.

You suck on the lollipop. As you exhale, you notice your breath is warmer, wetter. Steam leaves your nose and gathers around your ears. It's the very physical representation of a bad idea.

Well, why not roll with it? You are hungry for more than just lunch now. Although a quick rolling rumble in your stomach reminds you that lunch was your primary objective.

Damn Marvus. If you don't get your lunch, you're gonna... you're going to....

Well, you'll deep clean his green room and he'll never feel comfortable again. 

A team of blue blooded body guards, suits bursting at the seams, stand guard in front of the stage entrance. So that's not the way. They wiggle and jiggle in your vision; low blood sugar must be making you dizzy.

So. You sigh. You're sneaking in. To one of Marvus's concerts.

And you didn’t even bring your concert diaper.

“Za moe zdorov'e,” you mimic the sound of Silly’s words, sucking sugar, and then you’re pushing your way into the crowd, steam surrounding you.

The guards don’t even try stop you.

You stumble in slow motion through a crowd made of 2-d people. It's like you can see the secret workings of Alternia: all of these trolls are just paper puppets on a string. You follow the lights: all leads to behind Marvus's head.

He is so beautiful. You're struck by him. His smiling face. His easy stage presense. And, to top it off, shawty got the flatty. He looks less flat than the crowd; you suspect his lighting crew is just that good.

All in all, being in the crowd is just like last time. But this time, you're the weird part.

You muscle- a strong word for looking letting trolls see you cry and spooking the hell out of them- your way through towards the front. A girl with succulents in her hair bumps you. Her face drip, drip, drips and sloughs off her skull and into your hair. You wear her face like a mask. Everything is horrible.

The crowd pushes and pulls you. There’s blood fucking everywhere. It gets in your nose. It gets in your mouth. You chew it; it tastes like paper.

God damn it. You started this day rejecting your own groundhog’s day scenario, and look where it’s gotten you. You should have crafted a fucking penguin analogy.

There’s not too much you can do, really, except for hang on to the barrier once you reach it, fighting for your fucking life. You don’t even see the way back, that little path of destiny that led you out here.

You’ve been here before; you think it's a little poetic that the first and- what is becoming more and more likely- the last time you meet Marvus is in his stupid River of Dyx.

The only difference is that the longer the show goes on, the more disoriented you get. You’ve been intoxicated on Alternia before, and you're pretty sure you’re intoxicated once again. The fact that you keep confusing people for plants is a pretty big point in your theory's favor.

It’s got to be the sucker. Or maybe clown saliva is hallucinogenic. Either way, you’re feeling like the sucker now.

And you didn’t even get lunch out of this deal. You’re doing your best to emote a little frowny face above your head so that everyone knows your displeasure.

People are definitely crowding you, as if enough pressure can shrink your stomach. Fold it over itself and make you feel less hungry.

Yes. It's working. You emote a little thumbs up emoji. Nobody is watching you, though, now that you're at the front.

Marvus.

Marvus sings sweetly on stage, his mouth wide and teeth glittering, but you can barely hear him over the screaming of several thousand, bloodthirsty teens. And two saguaros singing operatic scales. Why is singing so much like screaming? The lights lower and frame his head like a halo, and you’re lulled to drowsiness. 

When you open your eyes again, it’s in a sea of cacti and corpses.

You want to scream, but you are already screaming. And so is everyone else, even the corpses.

You don’t know how it happens. If it’s even real. Marvus floats down from the stage like an angel and into the crowd's embrace like a lover. He doesn't cross the barrier. He holds his hand out to you, but you can't move to take it. You're drooling.

You’re floating. You think you’re crowdsurfing, which should be impossible. You’re dead, aren’t you? All the rest of those trolls are.

“I’m dead,” you say, testing the waters. Nobody reacts, or seems to care at all.

Marvus does that thing. The whole well what have we got here LOL etc etc. Just like last time. You can barely see his shadow for the light: two more months of stageplay. His stage voice vibrates in his chest, you can almost feel it in your own sternum. Buzzing like purring.

You wish that whoever was running your life would use a different plot device. Groudhog’s day is so cliche. It’s getting old. 

But, so it goes. He's going to go for the kill again. But this time, you-

There's no starstruckness this time: you’re genuinely afraid. You don’t want to double die on Alternia. You didn’t want to die at all.

The canesword comes towards you. You grab him by the wrist, but he’s so strong and you’re so out of it that it means nothing. So you flinch- 

The canesword stabs you in the shoulder. It hurts like hell. Bone grinds against metal. You pull it out and you bleed all over his shiny, waxed stage. How will he dance with his shoes slick with his blood? When did you get on stage?

“Thought this thing,” you say, groggily, “was a stage prop.”

Marvus’s face is stark raving naked in front of you. Eyes wide, mouth frowning and agape. Shocked.

But he recovers quickly, turning towards the crowd again. He brings the canesword to his mouth and, in what would be corny in a porno, licks your blood from the tip. With a wink and everything. How are you even friends with him. People are screaming. You can only hear the rumbling of his voice in his chest. You just fall uselessly to the ground again. It's all you've got.

When you open your eyes, the world is lit up in black-light and neon paint, all in dizzying stop motion. Two dimensional people on a two dimensional backdrop.

All but Marvus, who is staring at you, frowning in more dimensions that you can interpret. He is so beautiful, slender of jaw and wide of mouth. White knuckled grip on his canesword. Hair so perfect from the ghost of a single, pink curler. His eyes are bright, wild. He's frowning through a smile.

He holds his hand out to you.

You, whether you want to or not, go to him. He grabs you softly by each hand, kissing the backs of them.

"I could take care of you," he whispers. Just for you. "When it all goes to shit, you know? You make my kokoro go doki-doki and shizz." Corpse flowers and roaches bloom from the bodies beneath the stage, now decomposing. "Phee-ew," Marvus plugs his nose. "Ain't that something? Take a fuckin whiff, babe."

He shoves a corpse flower into your face and your whole world goes black.

___

You wake up when water fucking drenches you.

Marvus is chewing and singing softly; you turn to look at him. He sings: “I said it must be ‘cause a,” then he chews and hums through the word, scrolling on his phone, “got dough. Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of-” he pops the last bite of food in his mouth, still humming, then juggles a water balloon and throws it at the wall above you.

“Mouth full of what,” you say, unamused and soaking wet.

His head jerks up. “You up, babe?”

You want to answer, but you’re too busy coughing and choking on what tastes like your own blood and tap water. 

“Daayyyum, shawty!” Marvus says, doing that stupid fuckboy lip bite again. When you don't smile, he rips a piece of meat apart, grabs a pinch of rice, and shoves it into your mouth. “Mouth full of that.”

His thumb brushes your lip; you had no idea his skin was so oily. You wonder if he's been picking food up off the floor and eating it with his fingers. He wipes some sauce from your lip, and then sticks his thumb into your mouth. You tongue the last bit of rice from the whorls of his finger tip, some sauce from under his nail. A hint of his sweat accompanies the flavors of what is unmistakably chinese food.

He feeds you like that for a while. There are no cameras. Your head is pounding. He wipes your mouth for you every so often after you cough and the napkin is stained red.

His voice is soft when he speaks next, shoving a piece of orange chicken into your mouth. “Gotta get better at lying, bud.”

“Lying?” You ask through your mouth full of food.

He shrugs, taking his own bite of orange chicken. He’s holding his chopsticks all fucked up; it’s a miracle any food makes it to his mouth. “Killed you that first time ‘cause you was dying, dog. Killed you this time ‘cause you lied.”

“You’re really bad at killing me,” you say. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t smile. He pinches your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and sticks the bite meant for him into your mouth. His mouth is bigger than  yours; it's an ordeal to chew and swallow. What a way to tell you to shut up.

“Guess so,” he says, putting his chopsticks down. He’s resolutely not looking at your face. His gaze is fixated on your shoulder. “All lies got a little bit of truth in ‘em, though.” He rubs the ruined, bloody fabric of your shirt between his thumb and forefinger. It's so ginger that you want to interpret it as shy.

You shrug his hand away and- ah, shit, you’re still bleeding pretty bad. His bubblegum pink couch is a mess of your blood.

“What about you?” You ask, unable to tear your gaze away from his dilated pupils. The grain of rice stuck to his lip. “That guy on stage, how much truth is there in that?” You reach out-

“Lot of truth in that,” he says, wiping the grain of rice away with his thumb. Sticking it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t ask.

“This is just like our first meeting,” you say, but it comes out flat.

“Nah,” Marvus says, offering you the box of beetle and broccoli. You decline. “Totally different. Now, you know what I'm all about.”

It’s a very sweet thing to say. Marvus seems to think so too, because he fucks it up immediately. “Now we’re tight. We’re buds. Ain’t we?”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah. Dope.” You try for a winning smile, but Marvus isn’t having it.

“Sure didn’t act like it out there, though.” Oh, god, he’s honest-to-god pouting at you. He sticks a beetle into his mouth. It crunches. Sickening.

“Marvus,” you say, just as testy. “I don’t even know what was happening. Also I am bleeding so profusely. Oh, god, wait,” horror fills you. It couldn’t be real, could it? “Marvus.” You sit up, clutching on to your shoulder. “Do I make your kokoro go doki-doki?”

"Do I make your what-ero go who what now?" He gives you a scrunched-up look, confused.

Oh, thank god.

“Never mind,” you say, laying back down. If your blood won’t remain in your body, by god you are going to let your body remain on his couch. 

“Guess you was a lil confused before, huh?” He says, suddenly understanding. He pulls something off your pants... Oh, the stick to the sucker. You chewed off some of the paper, making the world’s shittiest, most useless shank. “Without me?” He pouts, but this time it's so fake you could see yourself laughing about it.

But, frankly, you’re still feeling testy. Does he not care that you’re bleeding out on his couch? That you were drugged? Kicked out of his greenroom that he invited you to?

“Friends,” you start, giving him a much more prodigious pout than he gave you. “Keep each other safe.”

“Not on Alternia, they dont.” Marvus’s eyes have gone soft, flitting from you to your shoulder; he flexes his hands, cracking his fingers.

“Well, I thought you would.”

Marvus physically startles at this, looking completely bewildered.

“You said you’d take care of me,” you say, and then you realize that was some kind of drug induced fever dream. “Or, you did in my dream.”

Marvus leans forward, slow and careful. He leans his elbows on his knees and folds his hands together. “Well, ain’t I said all lies got a little bit of truth in them?”

Then he leans in.

He’s smiling, his teeth sharp and glittering. “You been dreaming bout me, babe?”

“Yeah,” you stutter, leaning back. His eyes are on yours, pupils so dilated they’re black.

“And what do you know about me? Ain’t you been taught to be afraid?” His words wash over your face in a humid smog and you can smell his breath: chinese food and something earthy, probably bugs.

You don’t say anything, suddenly still as the wall stops you from backing up anymore.

“You was afraid back then,” his eyes lower to your shoulder, and his lids grow heavy. “When you got stabbed." He drags his hand under his eyes, revealing the purple waters.

“Nice passive voice, asshole. You stabbed me.”

He laughs, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes this time, and then he leans in further.

You think, for a wild moment, that he’s going to kiss you. His fingers come from his eyes to wrap around your head, his thumb stroking your jaw. He looks at you; you close your eyes. His breath is humid against your throat, and then his lips touch the edge of your wound.

It's simultaneously a kiss, and nothing like it. It stings.

His eyes roll up in a characature of ecstasy. He's looking straight at you.

To say you’re shocked is an understatement. You are so out of your element that you can only really roll with it.

He licks you, next, your red blood bright on his bruiseberry-grey tongue. Your breath stutters; it’s a sweet kind of pain, like pressing against a hangnail, or wrapping a bruise.

He hums beneath you. “Like that,” he breathes, and you don’t know if he’s asking or telling or offering, but you nod anyway.

He sighs against the wound, and then wraps his lips around your shoulder, pressing his teeth slightly into your skin.

His other hand has made its way to your waist, and he’s petting you slowly, like you’re his human stim toy. His other hand grabs you behind the shoulder, and he pulls you closer to him, groaning against your skin.

It hurts. It hurts, and it doesn't; it's so bizarre that it manages a horrible, frightening intimacy. His breath is on your skin. He's making noises that you can't inerpret. His fingers comfort. He- there's no better word for it- laps at your blood.

You, for your part, curl around him. Wind the perfect forlock of his hair through your fingers and ruin it. You ruin each other: Marvus gives you anemia, you give him a bad hair day.

With his lips around the gushing wound on your shoulder, he sucks slowly, looking up at you and giving you this shy smile like he’s not sure if you like it.

“Yeah,” you say. The world grows fuzzy at the edges. His eyes close as his tongue hits your skin, and you sigh.

His breath stutters against your neck, then he bites you. So, you pull his hair, hissing.

When he opens his eyes, he smiles again, his show smile. As if you're pulling it out of him. Twinkling on, your little star.

His hair is inhuman beneath your fingers, like very fine wire.

You close your eyes.

"You owe me lunch," you say.

And then you don’t wake up.

[sethdomain]

//vent

sometime i just really hate being left alone with my own though.

it keep spiraling into suicidal thoughts.

its just, its so clear at least people around me has their shit together, while i don’t. day by day im slowly being bothered by it, im not normal nor do i act like other people.

i always envy people around me. although i know they have their own problem and i shouldn’t be jealous of them, but i can’t help but wish i was them. what it would be like to enjoy talking with other people and having very close supportive connection in everywhere you went.

i don’t enjoy anything in life anymore nor do i know what i’m going to do with it. every day, i would wake up and do things i hate everyday. Making art and drawing day by day feels more more dull. i would be in the most funnest place ever and i would still want to end my life. even if im surrounded with friend, i just can’t help but still fucking find a way to want to bash a rock in my head.

i just don’t know whats the point of living anymore if everyday is just like this and this. and even if i try to see more to it... i just cant. for my parents? no, i don’t know if i love them anymore, friends? i just cant bring to care, they probably just will shed one tear for me if i die and then they will move on(good for them) my cats? maybe. my other relatives sibling? i love them, but i havent interacted with them for years

ugh i can’t help but also look back at myself some years ago. how did i do it? the world seem to always bring joy for me although everyone that surround me treats me like a freakshow(i mean they still do), art was so enjoyable and i always put effort in every six packed werewolf i drew. God i was also so likeable now im nothing like that. im now a fucking loser who can’t fucking be chill for once in their life.

and for now, my autism is biting me in the ass and its fucking me in school, people keep treating me like a freakshow in school like i have a toddler iq. this is why i don’t want to put a sunshine persona in school, people would always fucking treat me like a child. how is this relevant? well it makes me hate myself more and want to kill my own reflection, fuck bro why you like that. 

ugh i don’t even care about my dignity anymore, beside the voice in the back of my head always reassure that it wouldn’t even matter anyway, you’ll kill yourself soon enough anyway!

i just can’t wait till they put me on a mental hospital or something, i swear day by day im just gonna snap and no one seems to care enough to help me even if i keep showing obvious hint for depression and suicidal tendencies. yeah totally normal for me to be holed up in my room and avoiding contact for years! totally normal attempt to stab myself and many other things!

you know while you read this let me tell u a story that happened. see, i was like 11. me, i was crying like a bitch in some meatball restaurant(its not a fancy one its like on the street), of course my family was embaressed of me, so my parents try to drag me into the car, but i don’t want to like the little bitch iam.

my parent was pissed. so my mom threatened to leave me behind in there, i of couse cry louder which prompted my dad to just drag me to the car and he put me in the back of the car. after i was in the car they started driving, i was still crying in the back.

they were annoyed i was crying loud as fuck in the back. its been 15 minutes. my mom was so annoyed so she poured cold water all over me, which just make sob and cry louder, so she yells at me to stop so of course this time i try to be quiet, so i just sob little cry while i whimper in the back seat.

and then slowly i sleep and close my eye. i didn’t dream anything but i think i feel peaceful.

and then i woke up, we’re in a highway, my mom then asked if i was okay, and then i said i was fine.

mor4al of the story: Don’t be a childish little bitch over a meatball, people will be annoyed at you nor do they have the patience for you.

[thecrowslullaby]

17. “Are you afraid of me?” 👀

the prompt list and I'm gonna tag @sanders-spring while I'm at it.

Dove! You didn't include any sides but I know how much you love Roman and Virgil bickering so I tried to include that and I may or may not be stuck with another au now. Hope you enjoy :D!

It might be sligthly ooc but in my defense i haven't written in Roman's pov since may.

I'll get the other prompts too, when I finally have access to my pc for linger than 15 minutes at a time XD

Pairing: platonic prinxiety

Warnings: bad description of drowning (they're fine), implied death (they're probably fine too), one (1) swear word, tell me if I missed anything.

Word count: 950

Roman woke up to his body heaving heavily. Throat burning as water spilled out from his lungs. He tried grabbing something, anything, as trying to steady his breathing but his hands caught nothing but sand, the grains seeping through his fingers.

His head felt cold and heavy as he tried to fight the nausea swirling inside it. Wouldn’t be good to get sick, the captain was already furious with him. He swallowed it thickly and painfully. His chest hurt more with every breath.

His hands sunk deeper into the coarse sand. He’s going to have to sweep it later. How did they even manage to get this much onto the deck?

Weren’t they miles away from land?

He felt cold and tired. Slowly his breathing steadied, he already listened in for whatever complaints the captain could throw at him.

That’s when Roman heard sth being dragged along the sand.

His eyes shot open, making his head spin.

Roman always loved fairy tales. Daring stories of knights in shining armor saving damsels, and more importantly, fellow knights in distress. Fighting dragons, slaying beasts, entering worlds of magic and fantasy.

But he believed it to be just that, fantasy.

There was no such things as fairies, huge, monstrous lizards filling the sky with fire or…

..mermaids.

A small rational part of Roman, whose voice sounded suspiciously like Logan’s, told him he was seeing things. His head was still spinning, headache growing steadily worse while his lungs still burned from the saltwater.

No, no, no.

He must be hallucinating, he rationalized, trying desperately to wrap his heavy mind around the situation.

He remembered the captain shouting orders, something about a storm, lowering the mast.

He remembered being on the deck as the weather shifted.

Logan screaming, reaching out with his hand.

Their fingers grazed just barely as a wall of water hit them, taking Roman with it.

And then the ocean. Dark and cold. Swallowing him, filling his eyes and lungs as lumps of air escaping his lips, swarming his vision.

Rising higher until Roman couldn't see them anymore.

Until all that was left was the darkness that creeped up around him.

Cold, heavy and thick, swallowing him whole.

Until he couldn’t tell which way was up anymore.

Was he… dead?

It certainly didn’t feel like heaven with the way his chest burned with every breath.

He closed his eyes. Willing whatever vision flooded his mind away, but once he opened them the thing was still there. It’s posture slouched, body facing away from Roman save from it’s head that was turned towards the sailor.

It was.. watching him with those unblinking black eyes.

“Are you-” There were a thousand questions running through Roman’s mind. He hadn’t managed to settle on one before his lips finished the sentence for him. “-afraid of me?” He scolded himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Their tail must have been longer than Roman was tall and if the sharp nails it tried to hide in the sand were anything to go by it’s diet certainly didn’t consist of plants only.

It drew back it’s tail, turning their body to Roman. It bared its teeth and raised its fins. Sharp claws grinding against sand.

“No.” It hissed.

Well, that certainly wasn’t very convincing. Not that Roman knew a lot about lying of course, being so honorable, but he could spot a poor performance if he saw one.

“Hi, I’m Roman” The sailor offered, voice heavy. “I’m… well… unarmed.”

He could practically feel Logan’s disappointed stare on him as he revealed himself defenseless against whatever he was facing. But Logan wasn’t here now, he told himself, desperately trying to not think where his taller friend was. He couldn't think- he made it, and Logan was smarter, if Roman made it-. He shouldn’t- He couldn't-

Not now.

“What’s your name?” He asked the creature, who thankfully hadn’t fled yet.

“I don’t give my name to strangers.” It practically hissed the last part, baring its teeth at Roman.

“Alright there Mr. Incredible sulk-” Roman chuckled, the motion almost sending him into another coughing fit. The creature's eyes were black but Roman swore he saw an eyeroll and if his friendship with Logan was anything to go by, this was a good sign. “-would you mind telling me where I am then?”

“On land.”

“I… can see that.” There was definitely another eye roll. The fish-man was warming up to him.

“Why the hell are you asking then?”

“Well I was hoping, you might be a bit more specific.”

“How the hell would I know? I don’t go on land much. Tails aren’t exactly meant for that.”

It was only now Roman realized how far away from the water he was. The sand stretching out under him suspiciously dry. The fish must have dragged him all the way out here, or at least waited until until the ebb with him.

“You saved me, didn’t you?” And probably risked their life while doing so. He should probably thank them for that.

“Wow, amazing observation skills.” Never mind with the ‘thank you’s, this fish was an ass.

“Are you this friendly with every human you save?”

“I don’t save humans.” The fish deadpanned, already turning away from him. Roman couldn’t help but grin as he rose to his feet to chase after them.

“Does that mean I'm special?” The fish glared up at him before continuing to drag its body toward the water.

“Don’t let that go to your head Roman.” The sailor swore he heard faint amusement. “It’s already bloated enough with all the water you swallowed.”

“That’s not- hey!” The fish gave him a far too annoying smirk. “I don’t like you.”

It’s smirk only widened.

(i'm probably gonna write more for it but it's getting late here and I'm an old man who needs his rest /lh)

[mrsmaybank]

Crushing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.”

A/N: I love baby genius, season one Reid so much. I wanted to give him a soulmate. Soulmate is you: shy and also a baby genius. Okay, thanks for reading. This was honestly just for me. 

CW: Implied Smut, Mild Cursing, shitty writing 

“Who...Who is that?” Dr. Spencer Reid, debatably the wordiest boy Derek Morgan had ever met, was suddenly at a loss for words. Maybe it was your perfectly sculpted face, your shoes, the copy of The Kreutzer Sonata held to your chest, your chest, or maybe a mix of it all.  Whatever it was, at sight of you walking through the office doors, he was stripped of his ability to speak. 

“That’s JJ’s new intern.” Morgan said plainly, before noticing the completely enamored look on his friend’s face. “What, pretty boy?” Reid couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He was too busy studying every detail of your frame. 

“You think she’s cute or something kid?” Morgan playfully jabbed his shoulder, Spencer’s face instantly flushing an embarrassing shade of red. 

“What?!” He shrieked, “I-no! That’s not..No!” That’s a lie. 

“I just..I didn’t know JJ was getting an intern.” That though, was true. 

“She’s supposed to be pretty impressive. Let’s go meet her.” he started in the direction of the coffee stand, where you and JJ had begun chatting. Before Spencer could protest out of his shyness, he was being dragged along. 

“Morgan,” JJ smiled, “Spence,” she nodded in his direction, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My godsent savior.” JJ beamed in your direction.

You smiled more sheepishly then you would’ve liked, muttering a “Hopefully.” that got a laugh from Morgan and a “Oh, please.” from JJ, but nothing from the man in the glasses. You did your best not to read into it. 

“Derek Morgan.” the muscular agent extended his hand to shake yours, an offer you timidly but happily accepted. 

The taller, lankier, younger, incredibly cute man next to him stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably with a small wave, “I’m uh, Doctor Spencer Reid, oh! Uh, you don’t have to, uh call me Doctor. No..” He shook his head, “Just Spencer is fine.” He looked at you with wide eyes that sent butterflies berserk in your stomach and swiped his tongue in between his lips that only made them go crazier. JJ had told you all about the team. About the magnificently brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, his 3 PhDs and eidetic memory, and all the other quirks you’d have to know in order to work with him, but had failed to mention how utterly hot he was. You felt a crush hijacking your system already. Dear god. 

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Your hands gripped your book tighter as you shifted onto your tiptoes, “I’ve heard really exceptional things.” 

The conversation was set to continue, but Morgan and JJ were summoned by Hotch to the closed doors of his office. Leaving the resident genius and you starting at each other with tight lip smiles. 

Spencer started first, “The Kreutzer Sonata is great.” He excitedly continued, “It uh, it actually used to be a pretty bold book to carry around. After the work had been forbidden in Russia by censors, there was actually a mimeographed version that was widely circulated. Then in 1890, the United States Post Office Department prohibited the mailing of newspapers containing serialized installments of it too. Theodore Roosevelt even called Tolstoy a-” 

His enthusiasm was beyond endearing. You finished for him with a soft smile, "Sexual moral pervert.”

Spencer’s lips upturned in a smile. It was rare somebody in the office could finish his sentences. And he couldn’t help but replay the crass words being said in your soft voice. He felt a crush hijacking his system already. Dear god.  

“Most people don’t recognize it in the original Russian.”  Spencer heard you say. 

“Most people probably wouldn’t recognize it in English.” he retorted.

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Spencer wasn’t even kidding. “I’m not joking.” He shook his head. “It’s unfortunate how many people aren’t even vaguely familiar with Tolstoy.” 

“It is.” you agreed. “You went to Caltech, correct?” 

He smiled, “Yes.” 

“I almost did too. Decided last minute on Columbia.” 

“You went to Columbia?” he asked. 

“I just graduated.” 

“How old are you?” he asked before quickly correcting himself,  “I’m sorry! That was forward! I am not...I’m not trying to undermine your studies with your age, I promise. I’m just curious.” 

“No! It’s okay!” You got out fast. “I’m 19. I graduated high school a little bit early.” 

“Me too.” He smiled. “12, actually.” 

Your eyes went wide, “12?” 

“Yes, um, in a Las Vegas public high school.” He winced, but the self-deprecation somehow came out charming, “I uh,” His eyes narrowed, “didn’t go to a lot of parties.” 

That made you wholeheartedly laugh. “Me neither! I graduated at 15, which you know is the age everybody else starts. It created a really weird dynamic because the older kids in my grade didn’t like me, but the underclassmen my age really didn’t like me.” 

Instead of the laugh you were expecting, Spencer just gave you a pensive stare. 

“Um..I can’t see why. I think you’re very likeable.” The compliment would’ve been strange exchanged by anybody other than Spencer to you.

  “Wait till you get to know me.” You said it through a smile but so softly you were afraid he might not be able to hear it, but he did. 

And that was confirmed when he flashed you the most incredible, toothy grin you’d ever seen. “I uh, I doubt there will be any change in opinion.” 

“Well, um, I’m sure- I think! You’re very likeable as well Dr. Reid.” you said. 

“That’s what you say now.” He retorted in the same coy tone you had earlier. 

You shook your head, “You’ll find I can be insufferably stubborn.” 

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

After two weeks, there was little Spencer could do to hide his massive crush affinity for you from the team. 

In the bullpen: 

You guys had locked eyes and were mouthing out exchanged of No’s and Yes’s from across the room. There was an ongoing half-serious dispute about whether or not Xanthippe slept with Plato. 

Morgan glided in his wheeled chair to whisper into Spencer’s ear. 

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.” He said, shoving files into the cabinet below Reid’s desk. 

“I’m..I’m not.. I--what? Bedr--No!” Reid whisper-shouted back. 

On the jet: 

“Reid?” Gideon called Spencer, “Chess?” He motioned towards the board. 

“Yes, sure. Just give me a second. I’m almost done. I’m reading Infinite Jest. I don’t usually enjoy literature if it isn’t classic, even less so if it’s American. But..” Spencer smiled, “Y/N likes the author.”  He continued his fast-paced reading of the third-to-last chapter of the book. 

Morgan and Gideon exchanged glances. 

Even in front of you: 

You opened a sugar packet and began stirring. 

“De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium is still some of the best work on  heliocentric theory out there, I think. Copernicus knew what he was talking about!” You spun on your heels to see Reid’s face contorted in disagreement. You giggled, “Don’t give me that face! I’m right!” 

He took a sip of his coffee as to keep himself quiet. “Listen, cosmological theory is for…” 

But the pair of you were interrupted, it was Elle, standing behind you and in front of Spencer. 

“New skirt?” Elle asked as you turned, back now facing Reid.  She was pouring herself a cup of coffee too.

“Yes!” You excitedly nodded. “You like it?” 

Elle looked up and down, but not at you. The judgmental eyes were for the man behind you. She pursed her lips, “Not just me.” 

The only face redder than yours was Reid’s.

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

Nights spent in a bar after a case that had dragged on far too long was nothing new, but the energy tonight was especially light. Gideon had refused, but everybody else was just relaxed, even Hotch, and the team just got happier at each other's happiness. It was great, really. As Hotch and Morgan sipped on whiskey, JJ and Penelope had already downed four sugary, colorful cocktails and were in a whispered fit of giggles. Elle and Spencer settled on a tamer option of an IPA Spencer couldn’t name. 

“SPENCER!” Penelope excitedly shouted, “Y/N is literally you! You’re both adorable! You’re both geniuses! You’re both young!” She drew on her rant, “And if you have a crush on her you should just tell her!” JJ’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she tried to cover Penelope’s mouth. 

Morgan and Elle erupted in soft laughter while Hotch cracked an uncharacteristically amused smile. 

“Spence, I swear, I didn’t say that! I just...I may have mentioned how happy you get every time she’s around! And how you guys can talk for literally hours!” JJ defended, her words slurring in silly drunkenness. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time they teased him about you, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. 

“I don’t have a crush on her! We just….we like the same things! It gives us a lot to talk about.” 

“Yeah?” Morgan said through a laugh, “And what is it that boy and girl wonder talk about so much?” 

“Well, uh.. a lot of things. But I find she gets the most excited when we are discussing the theories of postmodernism, in that apparent realities are actually just social constructs and veritable realities are subject to change, and uh... we like to talk about linguistics….political philosophy….history... mathematic theory...and uh, oh! Doctor Who.” 

Spencer was blushing and spoke about you like a teenage girl did their boyband crush, and the team noticed. They didn’t even need to say it out loud. Spencer gathered from the way they looked back at him. 

“I heard she lent you a book too, Reid.” Hotch said before taking a sip from his glass. 

“Yes! She did!” He smiled, “It was her copy of Pale Fire. She has an impressive collection of 19th century Russian literature. All in its original dialect! Some of it’s even annotated, which usually would annoy me but since it’s her thoughts and notes I sort of find it endearing.” 

“Dr. Reid is endeared!” Greenaway shrieked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up a little higher on his nose, “I find her incredibly endearing.” 

“Y’all that sounded like a dorky love confession.” Morgan said as the team erupted in laughter and Reid’s head fell in a smile. There was no point in denying it anymore: He really, really liked you.

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

Within two months, you and Spencer had finally put your shyness aside, and spent a very lovely evening at watching an orchestra at the Smithsonian Music,  and sharing noodles at your favorite Thai restaurant. And then you guys spent some time on your couch. And then in your bed. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen. You were both very sexually frustrated. 

For the following two months, as soon as you both stepped out of the office, it was very, very hard to keep your hands off each other. Could either of you help it though? Teenage geniuses don’t experience parties, or football games, or clumsy sex. The time was perfect to make up for it. 

And you guys did. The sex part at least. “Football involves a lot of dirt. And germs. And sweat.”

“Oh my god!” you shrieked. His hands were in a place they found themselves more and more often: Your pants. 

“Does it feel good?” he asked, continuing his pattern of small circles on that particular bundle of nerves. 

“It feels great.” You nodded. 

“I uh, I’ve been researching the female anatomy.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, but trying to focus on your boyfriends newfound intellect. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” 

He watched your undoing with boyish adoration and curiosity before swallowing, “Very.” 

“Oh fuck!” Your legs began to shake, “Spencee...I’m gonn--” 

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

You and Spencer just understood each other. 

[tetsurobunni]

Kita Shinsuke : Matchmaker

☽ suna x reader ; 2.6k words

☞ characters mentioned : kita shinsuke, aran ojiro, atsumu miya, osamu miya

☽ fluff, he takes care of you when ur sick ! even tho he’s a menace, kita being an angel

☽ a slight mention of adult themes (its a teasing joke)

☽ notes : hiii i wrote this for a friend and i figured id add it here teehee :))

hey Jesus, i know we don’t talk much but...fuck you. i feel like literal dog shit

You groaned as you shoved yet another tissue in your nose. You were sick, and God forbid it wasn’t the worst cold you’d ever had.

This morning you had pulled on your uniform in a haze; honestly it's a miracle you even made it to school. Aran had stopped you in the hallway when you arrived, putting a hand on your shoulder and placing the back of his palm against your forehead.

He immediately got out his phone and texted someone-presumably Kita, since he was the one most qualified to handle this. The captain had dealt with him and Atsumu both when they were sick so he could surely help you and get you to go the hell home.

You had pushed weakly at Kita when he ushered you towards the entrance of the building, assuring that you were a-o-kay. You ended up making friends with a nearby trashcan and emptying your guts right after the claim. Kita had held your hair back and rubbed your shoulders reassuringly. Afterwards, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to someone. Who? You didn’t know.

Kita had made sure to get you home in one piece. He tucked you into bed, placed a cold rag onto your head, and you think you heard him say something about bringing you soup later. Sleep crept up on you quickly and you were out before he even stepped out the door.

Now you were unfortunately awake, cursing whatever God could hear. This was absolutely awful. A dull throb ran through your skull insistently, mucus clotted your nose and throat, making your breaths uneven and raspy. You wanted to quench the ache in your throat but even the idea of sitting up seemed to drain too much energy, so you laid there in pain.

You assumed it was mid-afternoon. Kita had drawn the curtains above the window closed, leaving the room dark. You were especially grateful for this, for you knew any light would make your eyes hurt.

Your phone lay unchecked on the table face-down. The fear of worsening your headache is what caused it to stay there. Whoever wanted to talk would have to wait. You switched out the tissue in your nose for a fresh one, groaning again.

You wanted to take a shower so bad. You hated getting sick because you felt disgusting and knew you looked it too. Embarrassment bloomed when the events from this morning played in your mind.

Aran’s gonna joke about that for weeks.

A soft knock from the door drew you away from your thoughts. That’s probably Kita. A hoarse “come in” fell from your chapped lips and you internally cringed at how awful you sounded, even if it was just your childhood friend.

“You look like shit.”

That was not Kita.

“Suna? what the fuck?”

“Shut Up. You’re going to hurt your throat worse.”

Is this what I get for saying fuck you? I apologize so much anything but this please

“You’ve gone through two boxes of tissues already? Kita wasn’t lying, damn.”

You turned your head away from Suna’s voice, attempting to cover your sick-stricken face. Out of all people. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Suna- the two of you actually got along (if you count bickering back and forth all the time getting along). The problem was you happened to have a humongous crush on him.

The wing spiker had gotten on your nerves at first- smirks hidden behind a hand, foot sticking out to trip you in the hallway, drawing on your notes- he was almost unbearable. But as the both of you got older, you started returning his remarks, nudging him lightly into lockers, laughing at the twins together and sharing footage of their stupid fights.

Your crush had crept up on you almost unknowingly until one day he slung an arm over your shoulder and shot you one of his signature smirks and you were gone. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Earth to y/n, hello y/n.”

“What.”

“Ah-ah, no speaking, remember?” You shot him a glare, receiving that smirk yet again. You cursed at the butterflies swarming your stomach.

Infuriating.

“You’re shivering.”

It was a simple comment. You realized after a beat that he was right and pulled the blanket farther up your body. He sat down the bag he held in his hand and made his way over to your bed. You squirmed in protest, trying to scooch away from his outstretched hand. Your actions caused Suna’s brows to furrow, a small line creasing on his forehead.

“I’m just going to check if you still have a fever,” he whispered, moving forward despite your futile attempts at moving away. You gave in, allowing him to gently place his hand on your forehead.

He wasn’t terribly close, he had been closer to you before this, but this felt different. More intimate.

“You’re burning up,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “Sit tight, I’ll start a bath for you.”

You tried to keep your swarming thoughts at bay with no luck. Your crush, Suna Rintaro, is drawing a bath for you. A bath. He’s taking care of you.

Why is he being so nice? This has to be a set up, or Kita probably forced him. There’s no other way he would willingly be doing this...is there? You shut down the thought as quickly as it came. No sense in getting flustered over nothing. No need to fuel your growing crush.

You weren’t fit to complain anyways. The exact thing you wanted is being done right now, so you did as you were told, slightly sitting up to fetch yet another tissue. The pounding in your head still hadn’t ceased and a sudden cough racked your body. You wanted to cry- and you didn’t cry often. But you felt horrible.

“Hey, you okay?”

Apparently you hadn’t held up your facade well enough because a look of concern washed over Suna’s face the instant he stepped back into the room. You shook your head lightly in response to his question, feeling tears welling up behind your eyelids in spite of your attempts to keep them at bay.

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Suna. It was practically a death wish. You could imagine the jokes and poking laughter he would send your way over the next few weeks, and it made you feel even worse.

“Hey, hey now, look at me.”

The words were whispered closer to you than you anticipated. Suna had sat down on the edge of your bed while you were caught up in your thoughts, that same line present between his brows. You fought the urge to touch it, facing away from him again and reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine.” That instigated a scoff.

“No you’re not. Now c’mon, let’s get you into the bath. You’ll feel better.”

Right. A bath. Despite the fact that Suna’s presence was wearing you thin, a bath sounded great. The only problem was, you knew you were too weak to walk to your bathroom across the hall. It took so much energy to even sit up, much less actually get on your feet.

Suna must have sensed something was wrong because in mere seconds he was lifting the heavy blanket off of your body and moving closer. Your breath hitched when he moved one strong arm under your back and another under your knees, eyes concentrated.

“Put your arm around my neck,” Suna murmured. You failed to notice the blush that had lifted to his ears because your own was blossoming on your face, making your already warm cheeks heat up even more.

This is purgatory.

You did as he said, lightly wrapping your arm up his shoulder and around his neck. He picked you up in one smooth motion, shocking you. You knew he worked out because of volleyball, but jesus christ. Your head throbbed in protest to the movement, and you winced involuntarily.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

“S’fine.”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest from the proximity. You were so close you could see the long eyelashes that framed his eyes, light traces of black eyeliner around the corners. You saved that in the back of your mind to ask about later.

Suna carried you into the bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. You pushed away the noise of protest that you wanted to let out from the loss of contact. No need to embarrass yourself even more.

“I’ll get you some clothes and leave them outside, take as long as you want.”

You murmured a small thank you as you watched him move towards the door. You hated that you missed him already.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Like I care.”

“Yea, okay princess.”

You glared at him as he closed the door behind him with a small chuckle. Princess. You fumed at the reaction you had to the pet name.

This is horrible. I’m horrible. I’ll just blame it on him. Him and that stupidly hot smirk.

The bath became increasingly inviting as you sat, eventually leading you to strip of your dirty clothes and step into the warm water. It felt amazing. After a few minutes you felt your eyes begin to droop, the steam luring you to sleep.

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

You didn’t know how long you had slept but judging by the temperature of the water, at least 15 minutes, maybe longer. The water hadn’t cooled completely but had lost its comfortable warmth. Begrudgingly you stepped out of the water and dried off.

You wrapped the towel around yourself and padded towards the door, opening it to retrieve the clothes Suna said he left for you. Just like he said, a small stack of clothes laid on the floor. You grabbed them and faced back towards the sink, wincing at your reflection in the mirror.

You really did look awful. Embarrassment settled into your bones again as you unfolded the clothes to put them on. A small part of your brain pointed out that they were big, too big to be your clothes, but a fit of coughs cut off your train of thought.

A knock came from the door. “Y/n? You okay?”

“Ye-“ Another cough broke off your sentence.

“Knock twice if you’re dressed.”

A small smile crept up on your face at the thought of Suna being considerate. You knocked on the door twice signaling him that it was okay for him to come in. A moment later it opened. Suna was holding what seemed to be a cup of tea in his hands and you reached for it with a sigh.

“Lavender, right?” You halted in your movements.

“Yea...how did you-“

“I pay attention.”

Your face flushed. His gaze never faltered from your face. How did he say that so casually?

“You look good in my clothes.”

So that’s why they were big. You looked in the mirror again, eyes locking in on the large “Inarizaki Volleyball” plastered on the front of the black material.

“Should wear ‘em more often.”

“Shut- shut up.”

“Mhm, okay. Feelin’ better?” You nodded.

“A little. Still feel like shit.”

“Look it, too.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

A light chuckle escaped him and he moved closer towards you. Something felt different. You noticed his eyes linger on you longer, many lapses of silence filled the spaces where playful arguing usually was.

“Cap texted me and asked to bring you soup, he had to do some more shit before he came over.”

“Hm.”

“What do you mean, hm?”

You didn’t get it. Why of all people would Kita send Suna to tend to you? What about Aran? Osamu? Hell, even Atsumu would have been higher on the list than Suna. Maybe…

“That bastard.”

“Woah now, what did Cap do to you?”

Kita was one of the only people who knew about your crush. Of course he would pull some strings to get Suna to come over. That little-

“Hey now pretty thing, don’t frown too much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

It was then you noticed a light touch on your forehead, right in between your eyebrows. Suna was rubbing the space there, just like you had wanted to do to him.

You hoped Suna couldn’t tell how fast your heart was beating or just how much you knew you were blushing.

After a moment of silence Suna still hadn’t removed the touch on your face. He met your eyes, slowly moving to cup your cheek.

“Why are you here, Rin?” His thumb stroked your cheek with a feather-like graze and you swore you saw his eyes flit downwards to your lips. “To take care of you, of course.”

“You’re going to catch my cold.”

“You’ll just have to pay me back later, yeah?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the corners of his mouth edging upwards.

what the fuck did i do to deserve this?

You pushed his hand away and looked away from his gaze. You could manage standing from afar and pining, sure, but what you couldn’t deal with was Suna messing around with you like this. You ignored the ache in your chest, choosing to cover it up by reaching for another tissue.

“Y/n.” You ignored him.

“Y/n, look at me.” You braced your arms on the bathroom sink with a sigh.

“What, Suna.”

“Rin. It’s Rin, to you.” You scoffed.

“Why am I any different than anyone else?”

“Because…”

You turned to face him again, confusion and slight annoyance bubbling under your skin. “Because what?” Suna groaned and ran a hand over his face. “You’re so oblivious.”

Okay, now you were annoyed.

“Oblivious? How am I oblivious?”

“Because you haven’t realized how different you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you fucking messing with me Suna? Look, I’m in no mood for your stupid games-“

“Would you shut up for one second and think.”

You leaned back against the sink with a cough, wincing as another throb of pain shot through your head. Any traces of anger or annoyance vanished from Suna’s face in an instant. He left the bathroom and you heard him rustling through the bag he left in your room. He returned with a bottle of pills and an ice pack.

“Here. Take these.” You took the small pills from his outstretched hand and washed them down with the now lukewarm tea. “Have you thought about it?” You rolled your eyes dramatically, placing your hand under your chin to mock a thinking position. “No, I don’t think I have.” He rolled his eyes in return. “Fine. Would I be doing this for anyone else? Hm?”

It’s a good point. One you didn’t bother thinking about. Sure, maybe he would do it for his teammates, but that was a hard maybe. He just wasn’t the caretaker type, much less with someone he wasn’t close with. You realized the implication behind his words in an instant.

“You...you like me?”

“‘Bout time you figured that out, sweetheart.”

All of the moments between you two passed through your mind in a frenzy, and you started to laugh. It was hysterical, really. All this time you just knew Suna could never like you back.

i take it back. thank you. sorry for saying fuck you

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He scoffed, “And risk losing my appearance? Hell no,” he said, sending you that damn smirk again.

“You are a menace, Rintaro.”

“Yea, but I’m your menace. You’re stuck with me.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“Oh shush, ya love me.”

“Yea, yea. Now, get me back in my bed. I need to sleep.”

“Inviting me to bed already? Wow y/n.”

“I hate you.” He reached over and pecked your cheek.

“Hate you, too.”

[obwjam]

“I watched you from the walls for years, you really can’t embarrass yourself further in front of me.” With Scott Lang please :)

“I watched you from the walls for years, you really can’t embarrass yourself further in front of me.”

yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes A THOUSAND TIMES YES

from this post

———————————————————————

Times were tough at the Lang residence. Scott wasn’t allowed to leave the house, his daughter was only allowed to visit on weekends, and worst of all, he worried about his future. How could an ex-con like him find work again? How could he possibly put behind everything he had been through in Germany? Often times, he sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, TV off, staring blankly at the wall.

Other times, he danced.

He wasn’t very good at it, but hey, who was watching? Scott would rev up his ever-growing 80s playlist, crank his speakers up to ten and let his arms flail and his legs go wild. For an hour and forty-six minutes, he would dance and sing and act out fight scenes he had choreographed in his head until he was just about ready to pass out.

Today was an especially stressful day. Cassie was sick and didn’t want to come, so for the first Saturday afternoon in a while, Scott was alone. There really wasn’t anything good on TV, and he had a nightmare the night before. If the good vibes wouldn’t come to him, he would make them himself.

He was maybe an hour into the playlist when he closed his eyes, spun around on one socked foot, struck a pose, and opened his eyes to the most confusing sight he had ever seen.

You were, in a word, fascinated with this human. For whatever reason, he never left the house anymore, which made borrowing close to impossible, but he was boisterous and goofy and just the right amount of weird. Eating cereal and crying at black and white Spanish movies at 10 p.m. was not normal human behavior, but it was normal for this one.

The dancing was especially entertaining. It was like a free show every day. The music was catchy and you had learned the words. Sometimes, you even danced with him. You discovered this crack in the old wood that allowed you to sit in its threshold and observe the human.

You were so caught up in the music that when Scott’s eyes landed on you, it took you a few seconds to realize what was going on.

Though Scott was staring right at you, he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. A tiny person? In his house? He squinted — no, it wasn’t Hank or Hope. They didn’t appear to be wearing a suit, either. Just some makeshift clothing. Was this a new Avenger with shrinking powers, sent to spy on him? Was it the government?

For some reason, you weren’t very scared. Years of watching the human from afar told you that he was a very relaxed person. He wasn’t overly excitable and didn’t seem to have a malicious bone in his body. You certainly didn’t mean to be seen, but it also didn’t seem like the worst possible thing that could have happened. It almost felt inevitable.

Scott stared at you, mouth agape and a thousand thoughts swirling around his mind like a hurricane. He realized he was still stuck in a ridiculous pose, so he put his arms back to his side and straightened himself. He should have figured there were real-life tiny people. Why else would Hank want to build shrinking technology?

You were staring back, mouth also agape and equally fascinated by what was in front of you. But Scott didn’t think you’d break the ice, so it was up to him.

“Um... hi,” Scott said, awkwardly giving a small wave. “What are you doing in my house?”

You tilted your head. For a human, he didn’t seem to be very surprised at what he was seeing. You lifted your arm and grabbed onto the wood for support as you spoke up. “Uh... I live here.”

“You live here? Last time I checked, I live here. Oh, no, they didn’t take my house away, did they?”

“What?” you blurted. “Who’s they?”

“Woo didn’t send you here, did he?”

“Woo? Woo who?”

“Jeez, you don’t need to act so excited about it.”

“Hold up!” you yelled, throwing your hands up. Scott pressed his lips together. “What... what are you talking about?”

“You’re government, aren’t you? Here to keep tabs on me, make sure I’m not breaking the Accords?”

“Government?” You blinked in disbelief. “You think I work for the government?”

“Well...” Scott started to attempt an explanation, but couldn’t really find one. “Why else would you be here?”

“I told you. I live here.”

“...so you’re not government.”

“Oh brother,” you mumbled to yourself, taking an exasperated seat. “Um. No?”

“...You wouldn’t happen to be an Avenger, would you?”

“An Avenger? Am I missing something here?”

“Well excuse me for trying to come up with an explanation as to why there’s someone sitting on my wall who’s two inches tall!”

“Hey, I’m four inches, thank you very much,” you scoffed.

Scott ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t going very well at all. You sighed and took a breath. You could understand why he’d be so flustered.

“No, I’m not government. Or an Avenger. I’m just... a regular borrower.”

Scott stared at you blankly, trying to piece together what a borrower could be, before it dawned on him and his eyes went wide. “Oh wow. You’re really just that small!”

“I didn’t think that was even in question.”

“Gosh, sorry, that’s really embarrassing of me.” He let out a laugh. “An Avenger. What was I thinking?”

His laugh made you laugh. “I watched you from the walls for years, you really can’t embarrass yourself further in front of me.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve done a lot of embarrassing things in my life. Being put in a maximum security prison’s definitely up there. I’m used to small jails, you know?”

You gave him a quizzical stare.

“This ankle monitor is pretty bad, too, though I— wait a second. Did you say you’ve been watching me for years? ”

You gulped. You thought he either didn’t hear that part or didn’t care.

“I—um, I mean, I was just — I was speaking metaphorically—”

Scott’s expression immediately softened. “Woah, hey, I’m not mad!” He realized he was gazing down at you, and he lowered himself ever so slightly to be at your eye level. Now, he could see the way you gripped the wall protectively. “I’m just... confused. What do you mean you’ve watched me from the walls?”

“It means I live in your walls!” you cried, not realizing how shaky your voice had gotten. You steadied your breathing before continuing. “That’s what borrowers do. We live in the walls of houses.”

“Like mice?”

You sniffed a laugh. “Yes, like mice. Which I help keep away from here, mind you. When was the last time you saw a mouse around here?”

“Oh, gosh, I can’t even remember. Years ago.” You smirked and raised your eyebrow, and once it clicked, Scott’s eyes lit up.

“That’s so cool!” Scott smiled. You knew he was a quirky human, but even you were a bit surprised at how nonchalant he was being. “Do you use those little toothpicks that look like a sword?”

“There are toothpicks that look like swords?”

“Oh yeah!” Scott grinned. “They’d be perfectly your size, actually.”

“Huh. Y’know, that might actually be helpful to shoo away beetles and spiders.”

Scott grimaced. He had gotten used to ants, but spiders is where he drew the line. “Oh, gross.”

“It’s just a part of the job,” you shrugged. There was an awkward pause before you spoke again. “I, um. I’m sorry for startling you.”

“No, no,” Scott shook his head, “I’m sorry for making you listen to the same music all the time!”

“No, it’s fine, I... I actually kinda like it,” you blushed. “Usually, borrowers keep themselves hidden. Most humans aren’t as... entertaining as you.”

Scott smiled, not even realizing that maybe that wasn’t a compliment. It felt exhilarating just to have a face-to-face conversation with someone who wasn’t his family or was legally obligated to talk to him.

“You wanna come to the living room?” he asked suddenly. You furrowed your brow. “It’ll be more comfortable than sitting on that ledge.”

“Well, I can’t exactly sit on the couch,” you said slowly, meekly gesturing at yourself with your head.

“You can sit on the table, it’s fine! I’ve got snacks.”

“Snacks...” you repeated. Even though this went against every single borrower code you knew of, it felt stupid to pass up this offer. If the human wasn’t going to hurt you, then why not make him your ally?

“Sure, why not,” you said finally, standing up. Scott couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“Here,” he said, standing back up to his full height and sticking his hand out in front of you. “I can carry you there!”

“Oh...” you said, staring at the hand hesitantly. “I can just walk, you know—”

“Psh! That’ll take too long. Trust me.” You didn’t know why he would know anything about that, but frankly, his weird choice of words was the last thing on your mind. Scott took notice. “Oh, you’re... sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. It’s just right across the hall, we don’t have to go far at all. It’ll be fine.”

You gave him a skeptical look, but at this point, you didn’t have much of a choice. This is what you wanted, anyway.

“I guess this is the one drawback,” you muttered, keeping a firm grip on the wall as you lowered yourself onto his palm. “Humans can’t take no for an answer.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, uh, I—I said. Quite the view from up here.”

“Hah, yeah, I know!”

There it is again, you thought. That weird choice of words.

The trip to the living room was, as promised, short. You were only in his hand for about 15 seconds before you hopped off onto the familiar sight of the coffee table. The bowl of peanuts and candy was filled to the brim, as usual, but you supposed you should act like you’ve never been here before.

“So,” Scott said, reaching into the bowl and popping some M&M’s into his mouth before flopping onto the couch. “What’s your name? I bet you already know mine.”

“I’m (Y/n),” you said, eyeing the bowl. “Can I...”

“Oh, go ahead!” Scott smiled. He watched in delight as you grabbed a peanut that was larger than a football. You bit into it like an apple, and Scott could hardly suppress his grin.

“This is amusing for you?” you asked with a smirk. Scott immediately shook his head, but the smile was still present. “Yeah, I guess I probably look hilariously small to you.”

“Well... only a little.” Scott leaned back into the couch cushion. “So you’ve really been inside my walls this whole time and I had no idea?”

“Yup,” you said with a mouthful of peanut. “Been here for a long time.”

“How do you even live? Eat? Bathe?!”

You turned your gaze to the table. “You won’t like the answer.”

Scott thought about it for a moment, but it didn’t take long for him to connect the dots. “Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah,” you blushed. “But it’s either take crumbs off your counter or starve, so. I choose not to starve.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have dinner with me from now on. I cook just for myself anyway, it’ll be nice to have some company.”

“About that... why are you here all the time? You used to only be here at night.”

Scott sighed deeply. “It’s a long story.”

He seemed uncharacteristically upset about that, so you cleared your throat and pivoted back to what he was saying before. “You’d really let me eat with you?”

“Sure, why not?” Scott seemed genuinely surprised that you would even ask.

“I mean, this has gotta seem a little... weird to you, does it not? In fact, I — well, there are a lot of stories about humans discovering borrowers, and they’re not often pleasant. You... you don’t really seem to care.”

Scott pursed his lips. “That’s another long story.”

“Oh.” Jeez, what is up with this guy?

“I mean, if you’ve really been... in my walls all this time...” He shuddered before continuing. “Then you know how lonely it’s been around here. Heck, it probably gets really lonely all by yourself in the walls, too.”

You nodded.

“Well, I’ve got a lot of questions for you, and I know you’ve got a lot for me... I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want to, but I think — it might be nice to get to know each other, right?”

You gave Scott an almost incredulous look. Maybe all those human tales were just old folk stories of days past, meant to scare children into staying close to home. You were hardly nervous that Scott had any malicious intent. You just almost couldn’t believe this was happening.

“What about your daughter? Isn’t she supposed to be coming this weekend? I’d rather her, uh, not see me.”

Scott sat up a bit. “You know about Cassie?”

“Um. Lived here for years, remember?”

“Right, right. Uh, n-no, no, she’s sick, she’s not coming. Huh.” Scott shook his head. “Wow. You must know, like, everything about me, then.”

Your face flushed red. “I mean, yes and no. I don’t just sit and stare at you to pass the time. It’s-it’s actually pretty strange for me too. We’re not supposed to talk to humans. It’s kind of the big number one rule.”

“What normally happens?”

“Well.” You paused, looking up at Scott’s expectant face. It was hard to hold eye contact, and your gaze flickered back to the table. “It’s a long story.”

Scott huffed a laugh. “I get it. Looks like we both have our own baggage.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Look, if you wanna... go back into that hole in the wall, you can. I told you, I won’t make you stay. But the offer is always there. I’m probably just gonna order a pizza tonight. You ever had pizza?”

You pursed your lips. Should you really be telling him all the things you’ve stolen from right under his nose?

Scott sighed. Maybe this wasn’t the weirdest thing for him, but he knew he couldn’t say the same for you. Your sideways glances had grown increasingly nervous ever since he brought you to the living room. You carried yourself well, but it was clear you were uneasy about all of this.

Wordlessly, Scott placed his hand down in front of you. He frowned when you winced at it.

“It’s quicker if I just bring you back,” he said sheepishly.

You picked your half-eaten peanut off the table and cleared your throat. “I-I’m sorry. I think I underestimated how odd this would feel. You... you’re just, really different than the human I lived with growing up. In a good way.”

Scott smiled weakly. “Just wait ‘til you get to know me.”

You laughed as you climbed onto his hand. You sat down for balance as he stood up, unable to take his eyes off you. You stared straight ahead as he took the short journey back, and in a few moments, you were right back where you started.

Staring at each other.

“Well (Y/n), it was nice—”

“You know,” you said, raising your voice to cut him off. “I have had pizza before. But I’ve never tried ice cream.”

Scott gasped. “Never had ice cream?! Lucky for you, I’ve got some chocolate in the freezer— oh. Oh! You... you want to have some dessert later?”

You smiled amusingly. “You catch on quick.”

“Yeah, it’s a specialty of mine,” Scott said, stretching his arms in the air. “Gosh, it’s already 7:30. How about ice cream at 9?”

“I, uh, don’t have a clock with me,” you admitted. “Why don’t you just... knock when you’re ready?”

Scott chuckled. “Knocking on the walls to my own house? People’ll start to think I’m crazy.”

You blinked at Scott, Scott blinked at you, and you both burst out laughing. For a moment, you forgot that Scott was a hundred feet tall and he forgot you could fit in his palm. It shouldn’t have been that funny, but it was. It all was.

Scott wiped a tear from his eye and sighed. “Oh, man. Okay. I should order before they close. See you soon?”

You smiled. In between the bad jokes, the awkward silences and the fits of laugher, you decided all this weirdness was worth it.

“Yeah. See you soon, Scott.”

[hozierandco]

Sam Fender x Reader / call me lover

Friends to lovers. Lots of fluff.

Plot: Y/N and Sam have been friends for as long as they can remember but growing up has led them to grow apart. There are many things they have to tell one another.

The thing with kids is that they grow up. Too quickly, with too much silence surrounding them.

Sam was a boy, Y/N was a girl but to one another, they were just friends. They had known each other for as long as they could recall and had not doubted one second that they were just friends. Of course, there were the subtle questions from their parents, the hesitation when Sam would spend the night at Y/N's but their parents too knew it was just friendship.

Although they agreed that with all the secrets and trust they shared, they would be the best of couples, they thought it to be too pure to be broken.

Their friends too believed that it would inevitably happen, that they would end up together. Of all people, Dru was the most persistent on the matter. He had known Y/N for a longer time than Sam since Y/N's mother was the doula and a close friend to Drew's. Therefore, the two of them considered each other as siblings.

He  liked to tease Sam to make him confess a crush he would have on Y/N. To no avail.

And then, there had been Y/N's first boyfriend when she was 15. At a time in his life when he was still playing Fifa in his room when he was not toying with his piano, he had to endure his best friend clung to her boyfriend's arm.

For the first time, he felt repulsed by the sight of Y/N but mostly by that of the Alex Turner wannabe her heart had fallen for. He began writing about love and deception though he had no reason to have known either.

Of course, the idyll was cut short with Alex Turner #2 coming back from summer camp without his virginity anymore, exploit he felt the need to share with the whole school.

Sam and Drew had come to Y/N's rescue the day at school and together, they had eaten pizza and waited for Y/N's tears to disappear. It was the world against them from now on, and nothing could change that.

Sam had worked his ass off to make Y/N proud and had done all he could for his A-levels. In spite of all the intensity and long hours of going over Horatio Nelson and the Boer War with Y/N, he gave up and started working in a pub. He was to be a musician, no matter what.

His fingers got crooked because of his guitar, his voice sore but at last, he was given a festival to play at. Drew would be there too of course.

As for Y/N, she had started working in an architect's office while studying at the local Uni.

Things got so fast. The kids grew and were soon overwhelmed with new responsibilities. Y/N had a new life for herself and Sam was about to tour before releasing his debut album. When he found out that a label had signed him up, the three friends along with Dean and Joe had screamed their lungs out.

It had come out of the blue that Joe fancied Y/N and it had also come out of the blue that Sam didn't like this turn of event.

The tour meant that they would not see each other for at least half a year as Sam's studio was in London. They had never been away from one another for so long so the day Sam left North Shields, it felt like the soil was crumbling under her feet.

Y/N informed herself of Sam's whereabouts through Dru as Sam didn't reply to her texts. Dru was regularly implying to his friend that he should call her every now and then, but he was always "too busy". Just like that, silent formed around them.

"Sam, call her", Dru begged one more time.

Sam sighed. He did not dare calling her, he felt as though he had let time rule his emotions. The more distance he put between them, the harder it was to think of something to say. Sure, he was busy but he always had been busy.

"You know what day it is today, don't you?"

Sam stared with round eyes at Dru.

"It's her bloody birthday, Sam. Just call her, okay?"

Dru had taken Sam's phone from his coat that was lying on the floor and forced Sam to take it.

Sam went to the room, right next to where he was and dialled Y/N's number, ending up on the voicemail "Hi! I hope that the voicemail just indicates that you're getting hammered somewhere and I also wish you a happy birthday. I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, I wish I could make it up to you. I miss you and I love you"

It was not until the message got sent that he realised what he had just said. Sam knew that opening up always led him to say too much and he couldn't take the risk to lose Y/N.

"What's wrong?" Dru asked when he saw Sam visibly agitated.

"I screwed up"

"You just had one call to make, how can you screw up a call?"

"I said something I shouldn't have. I told her that I loved her"

"As in I love you?"

"Yeah, I mean it's not something we say to each other"

"And do you? Love her?"

"Yes, Dru. I think I do. I think I always loved her"

"Well then, you haven't screwed up. You've just made things easier"

Days went by without a word from Y/N and Sam to pass time was playing with his phone a couple of times a day, not knowing what or if he should write to her. But then it got worrying, he feard that something had happened to her.

"D'you have news of Y/N?", he confronted Dru one night.

"She didn't say that she loves you back, huh?"

"She hasn't said anything at all, in fact. Is she alright?"

"That's odd. Yeah, she's fine, I just got a text from her, not even ten minutes ago. I can ask her to reach out for you if you want"

Dru is a magician as not only five minutes later, Sam's phone buzzed.

Y/N: Dru said you called on my birthday. My phone was off, you should have left a message... Sam: I did! You didn't listen to it? Y/N: I didn't get anything... Sam: Can I call you now? Y/N: No, not tonight. I'll call you tomorrow morning, good? Sam: Yes :)

Sam was not a morning person but he woke up as early as he could. He waited and finally she called. On FaceTime. She looked radiant, unlike him who severely lacked of sleep.

"Hey!"

Bring the tone down, Fender, Sam thought. You're gonna freak her out.

"Hi, sorry I couldn't call you yesterday. It's good to see you"

Just like that, one moving still of Sam was enough to have her mood lit up.

"So, can't make a voicemail work, huh?" Y/N joked around.

"I promise you, it worked. I don't know what happened but it's good I get to tell you like that"

"Tell me what?"

"Well, first that I'm sorry I've been an idiot lately. It's just that I've missed you so much and I wanted to see you and I couldn't stop thinking of you all the time"

An unfamiliar noise of a plate falling.

"Garlic's going on an adventure?" Sam referred to Y/N's cat that was known to be the clumsiest cat on Earth and that Sam had helped naming six years prior.

The distraction was much needed as Sam was blushing and it started showing on camera.

"Let me just go somewhere quieter"

As Y/N left her living room for her bedroom, Sam saw the silhouette of a man trying to assemble the splinters the plate had left behind.

"Sorry for that. What were you saying?"

"Nothing. I'm just sorry I didn't call you earlier and I hoped that you had a great birthday..."

"You sure there was nothing else"

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure"

The two of them chatted for another 5 minutes when the conversatio became awkward.

Y/N was certain when she hung up that Sam was about to reveal his feelings. And she would have let him. In fact, she would have revealed hers as well.

But Dan had to be in the way. Or was it Ian? Stan? Y/N had always done this. When she was thinking of Sam too much, she was collecting men to share the night with.

She never got attached to anybody but liked to wake up by a man's side.

A few weeks later, Dru called Y/N with good news.

"We've got some rest from the tour. We'll be at Shields for a month or so. I cannot wait to see you again, little sister!"

Y/N had set her mind to meet them at the train station from where she would get in the tour bus with them. Since Sam's aborted declaration, Y/N had not gotten any news from him and was not taking any.

When the van arrived and its doors opened, Dru ran to Y/N and hugged her "Ah, come here, you!"

There was a new face amongst the original team.

"Hi, I'm Lisa" the stranger introduced herself. By gazing that her hand was in Sam's, Y/N took a wild guess that the two of them were a thing.

"Nice to finally meet you. You're the 5th Beatle or so it seems. The boys could not shut up about you"

Y/N grinned at Dru and fainted a smile towards Sam. Unfortunately, she couldn't say as much for Lisa and blamed Dru to have kept it a secret.

Lisa was gorgeous, it was undeniable. Her posh accent had made the journey with her and contrasted with hers and the boys'. As long as Sam is happy, I'm happy, Y/N tried to convince herself as she got in the van.

"So, pub?" Dru asked. It was not even 5 pm but the idea seemed to everyone's taste.

"I'll join you later if that's alright. Joe, can you drop me off? I've got a few things to do before I join"

"You alright?" Dru whispered at her as he was seated next to her in the back of the van.

"Yeah, I'm fine" but as she answered, she stared a little too long at Lisa and her brown curls, her tanned skin and her perfect Julia Roberts smile.

"It's Lisa, huh? I don't like her either. Too posh for Sammy"

"I've never said I didn't like her"

"Then what?" Dru hesitated and then exclaimed "Oh!"

As he had nearly shouted, all of the boys and Lisa turned around to laugh at his looks of bewilderment.

Dru shushed himself down as his friends took the piss at him "Finally got the epiphany that you're ugly, Michael?" Dean mocked him.

As Dru brushed the joke and everything went back to normal, he went on with his whispering "You fancy Sam?"

Y/N simply nodded which got Dru leaning back in his seat, stirred by the confession.

"There, you go, princess" Joe stated as he had parked right in front of Y/N's flat.

They all greeted Y/N goodbye and agreed that they would see each other at 7. Sam did not dare looking at her in the eye. He knew he should have said something about Lisa but he had not come around it, why would he since she had her own life now?

As she opened the door, Y/N started tearing up a little, stunned by all the events. She seized her phone and sent a text.

By 6.15, the intercom rang. Y/N had changed into a wrap dress made of sequins and black heels.

"Hey!", she exclaimed to the man who was waiting by the door. This one was Chris, a chap she had seen some days prior. He reminded her of Alfred Enoch somehow with his chiseled jaw and round cheeks. Y/N didn't feel like being alone tonight and Chris was good company.

"Y/N, here!" Joe informed as he was in charge of getting a new round of drinks "By the table over there. Oh hi" he said to the stranger "I'm Joe"

Chris was by far the best-dressed man there as, clearly not familiar to pubs, he was wearing an open white shirt over brown chinos.

Dru and Tom made some space for Y/N and Chris to sit once Y/N had introduced everyone to her date.

The conversation was very much alive by 8 except for the fact that Lisa and Chris felt left out as it was all about childhood memories and family-related topics.

Sam was all eyes for Y/N. It was as though nothing awkward had ever happened between them and as though they were kids all over again.

In an effort to include Chris in the night's ambiance, Y/N asked him to dance with her. She hoped by that that she could get a reaction from Sam as dancing was THEIR thing.

At her birthday parties, they were always the two ones inventing silly dance moves on cheap Eurodance. As teens, they would always wiggle at gigs while the rest of the audience would look at them tenderly.

"I should get going. I've got a meeting in the morning" Chris let Y/N know as a song by Marvin Gaye ended. It was only 10 pm but Y/N didn't hold him back.

"C'mon, Sam. Invite her to dance, you're dreaming of it" Lisa rushed him. "She's your best friend after all"

What if he didn't want to be her best friend anymore?

Sam got up and joined Y/N. Tonight, he would tell her the truth. Not tomorrow, tonight.

"May I accompany you?"

"Yes, you may. Lisa's not into dancing?"

"I don't know but I'm into dancing with you"

"He's in love with her, isn't he?" Lisa asked Dru who had just ordered more drinks.

"Yeah, I think he is.. I'm sorry"

"Don't be, it's no big deal. Sam and I were just fooling around anyway. She's sweet, just what he needs"

"They just have to admit it now"

"So, Chris.. You two are together for long?" Sam asked.

"No, I mean technically we're not together. We've met twice with tonight"

"He seems nice"

"Yeah, I suppose. You and Lisa?"

"About the same: couple of weeks, nothing too serious"

"What did you mean to tell me last time?"

"Last time?"

"Yeah, you were saying that you missed me and all"

"Well, yeah. Touring without you sucked. I've missed you every fucking day. I want to be with you all the time. It's always been like that me and you"

"I missed you too, Sam"

The song had changed.

"What I'm about to say could ruin what we have but I just have to say it: I've always loved you, Y/N. It took me a whole ass tour to realise that. It's what I told you on the voicemail"

"I love you too, you idiot!"

Dru admired Lisa's ability to remain amicable even when she understood that Sam and Y/N had just confessed their feelings. He had judged her badly and saw what Sam had seen in her: a genuine goodness.

Sam was eager to kiss Y/N but had to make sure that Lisa was alright. He wanted more than anything else in the world Y/N and him to be together but he couldn't do it like that.

He turned around to Lisa only to see her kissing Dru. Sam shook his head and turned back on Y/N who was laughing at this sudden act of PDA.

Sam laughed along and then joined his lips to Y/N's.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.7)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Seven) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,118 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: This is more fluffy smut. I needed some buffer before the next drama drops!

Part Six || Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve was gone when you woke up. Probably for the best because you were still a little on edge about the name issue. Stretching, you looked at the clock. He left very early apparently because it was almost 6:00am now. You kicked the covers back and got out of bed.

Picking up your phone, you saw a text from Elisha. She wanted to see you and visit your place.

Texting Steve, you asked, Can I have someone over?

He did not respond for a few moments as you sat there waiting for the three dots to show up to show he was typing. Exhaling disappointed, you decided to go take a shower and tried to enjoy the warm water. When you got out and got dressed, he had still not responded.

A friend. Elisha. Not a john.You sent, hoping to clarify if there was any doubt about your intentions of having someone over.

That seemed to do the trick because he responded almost immediately as you walked towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

Soon. Get settled in first.

Sighing, you tossed your phone back onto the counter and went back to grabbing eggs out of the fridge.

<><><>

They had not visited for a couple days and you had enjoyed the solitude to be honest. No schedule, no one else taking up your space. You were standing in your kitchen in a lounge bra and your underwear, eating a bagel you had just toasted.

It was later than normal than you would wake up. The blame could lie at the feet of the fact you had stayed awake to the wee hours of the morning binge watching videos on your phone.

You noticed your phone light up as you took another bite. Chewing, you leaned forward, seeing it was Tony.

Get ready quick. We’re going to go get your cat.

You only sat there for a second before your face broke out into a smile and then you shoved your bagel in your mouth, finishing in a rush. It was short notice, but you were excited about the cat for one but also to get out of the apartment. You had been in here for a damn week.

Rushing to your room, you threw on some casual clothes. You stopped for a moment in front of your mirror and sucked in your bottom lip. Should you have something a little sexier on? You debated for a few seconds before you waved it off; this was to get a cat, not give a lap dance.

Tony arrived not more than thirty minutes later, and you were pacing, ready for him in the living room when he let himself in.

He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you. You asked, “What?”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before, that’s all.” He dragged his eyes down and snapped them back up to meet yours. “The fit is nice.”

“Glad to know my outfit is approved. You’re also wearing jeans. Are we going?”

Tony chortled, “Impatient. After you.” He followed you out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Terrence was waiting in the hall and he asked, “Who is driving you today, boss?”

Tony told him, “I’m driving.”

Stalling your stride, you looked at him shocked. “You’re driving?”

“Yes, why do you look shocked? I can drive,” Tony told you, his arm slipping around your waist as he led you to the elevator. “I’m an adult, I have my license. I assure you.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you drive yet.”

“Seems like today is having a lot of firsts already.”

His car was waiting out front, one of his people keeping a watch out on it. They moved away as soon as they spotted him coming out. Tony came over to the car, opening the passenger door for you.

“A two-seater convertible?” you asked. “Really? You think the cat is gonna like that? Or me for that matter? Having to hold the carrier in my lap?”

Tony gestured you in, “Get in, baby. I’ve got someone following us.” He threw his hand up behind the car to the black SUV parked behind. The person who had been standing by the car was sitting in the driver’s seat. “They’ll bring the cat back with them. Enclosed space. I’m not a sadist. I just wanted to have a fun drive with you.”

You refrained from commenting about wasted gas as you did as he asked, him closing the door behind you and coming around the front of the car to get into the driver’s seat, adjusting his jacket.

“It is a nice car,” you admitted, buckling in. “What is it?”

“An Audi,” Tony said pressing the start.

“I saw that. I’m not an idiot, Tony. What model?”

Tony smiled at your scorn. “I know you’re not. A Spyder.”

You frowned, “I’m not sure I’m fond of that name—”

You yelped as he pulled away from the curb, shooting off into the road. Tony laughed amused at your reaction at the sudden movement.

“Oh, love, just wait until we get out onto the highway,” Tony smirked. “I’ll show off this engine for you.”

<><><>

“It’s pretty, but the hair,” you commented as Tony pointed out a Persian cat at the shelter.

Tony eyed the cat closely as you moved on.

“Oh my fucking god!” you said excitedly, coming up to the next cage to a cat already pressing its head against the gate for pets.

Tony came up next to you and said, “So what was that complaint about hair…?”

“Yeah, but this is a Maine Coon! A mix, but still.” You saw he looked confused, and you said firmly. “I want this one.” Tony rose his brows now, giving you a challenging look and you pressed, “They’ve got great personalities! I had one as a kid. They act like dogs but they’re just big ass fluffy cats! And look, it’s a Tuxedo!”

“The hair,” Tony repeated. “My suits. You know, I’m really rethinking this now…”

“You cannot tell me you brought me in here just to not take one home. That would just be cruel.”

Tony smacked his lips and said, “You’re right. Carry on. No white hair though.”

“She doesn’t have white hair. It’s browns and greys,” you pointed out as you continued petting the Maine Coon. “Look at the little marking on her forehead! And she likes me! You can’t leave her here now!”

He stared at you for a few seconds before closing his eyes and exhaling. You held back from bouncing on your heels, knowing you had broke him. You turned back fully to the cage and stuck your fingers back through, her brushing her head against your head in earnest.

“You’re coming home with me,” you told her excitedly.

<><><>

On the way back home, your arm reached across, your fingers tip toeing up Tony’s thigh. The wind was whipping around the two of you as he sped down the highway. You saw that the SUV had lost the two of you a while ago since Tony had kept passing people, weaving into the left lane to jerk back into the right lane around curves. The danger was hot and you wanted more.

Your fingers brushed his crotch and he shot you a quick look, shaking his head. You pouted and he said loudly over the wind, “No.”

“Have you ever had road head?”

“Are you really asking me that?”

You shrugged, “Just thought you would like it!”

“Yeah and if it’s on a drone or helicopter cam somehow – cause if you haven’t noticed, there’s no roof on this car – that I had some woman going down on me on the highway? How am I gonna explain that?”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually starting to grow a conscience, Tony.”

That drew a grin out of him, shooting you a mischievous look. He cleared his throat and pressed a button, giving a bit more space between his lap and the steering wheel. Second time breaking his resolve today. It did not seem to take much when it came to you.

Unbuckling yourself, you leaned over the middle console working on his zipper. You pulled his cock out of his jeans, running your hand up and down it sensually. He tasted like salt and sweat as you took him into your mouth, trying to help it along quicker. Tony groaned, and you felt him tense. You imagined his hands tightening on the wheel, trying to keep himself focused on the road.

“I gotta pull off,” he grunted.

This did not stop you from working your mouth up and down his dick. The car veered a little, into a highway pull off you concluded.

He pressed a button the steering wheel. He pulled you away from his dick, and blocked access. Or tried to. You moved down, running your tongue across his balls, flicking.

It was too much apparently.

“Give me 15 seconds,” he breathed at you, blocking you again from swallowing him. You kissed his hand, running your tongue up his fingers. His lips twitched despite himself and he cleared his throat roughly. He jerked his hand back, giving you a light, discouraging slap. You moved back then, and he leveled you with a look. Pouting, you laid your chin on his thigh. His hand came to run over your head before straightening up when a voice came over his speaker.

“Boss? Are you alright?”

“No, go on if you pass me. I’m pulled off. I’m fine. Just take the cat back.”

“It’s crying a lot because of the weaving highway.”

“I know it is, I can hear it.” That was not a lie; it’s whines were coming over the phone call. “I’ve got something to finish here though, so just go on. Like I said! I gotta go.”

As soon as he pressed the button on the steering wheel, he tapped your head. “Alright, resume, love.”

<><><>

When you got home, Tony encouraged you ahead; he needed to talk to Daryl really quick. When you got into the apartment, the cat was nowhere to be found. You took off, throwing your bag onto the counter, searching closets. You found her cowering under the bed up against the wall. You tried to coax her out with soft noises and holding your hand out but she just put her ears back, snuggling closer to the wall.

Tony’s footfalls came down the hall and you heard him come into the bedroom.

Pushing yourself up from underneath the bed, you came up onto your knees.

“She’s hiding,” you told him, standing up.

“Maybe try with the treats you bought later,” Tony suggested, his hands in his pockets.

You shrugged, “Maybe. She’ll come out for food when she’s ready. Probably when I’m asleep.”

You walked over to your closet and closed the door to shut off another place for her to go and hide. You wanted to be able to check up on her and limiting the spaces to search would help.

“Well, I have to go do some work today at some point, so, that’s now,” Tony commented and you turned back to him, finding him close. “You can get the letter box and everything set up?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good,” he said to you, giving you a peck on the cheek before turning away.

Suddenly, it came to you again, the last night with Steve. Maybe Tony knew, although a part of you was screaming at you to let it lie. But, despite your better judgment, you reached out, stopping his movement. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Who’s Cecile?”

Tony looked at you with all shades of suspicious, his mood completely altered by the question. There was a dangerous underlying tone to his question, “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged, letting your hand fall from his arm, suddenly not interested based off his reaction to the question. “Never mind.”

“Why do you ask?” he repeated more forcibly.

Trying to be nonchalant, you said, “Steve called me it when we had sex last. It was just weird. He’s never done it before. It threw me off. That’s all.” Tony ground his teeth, watching you intently, not saying anything. You forced a small smile. “Really, it’s not a big deal. He did not seem to even realize he had done it. I was just curious.”

He obviously did not feel the same. Tightly he said, “I’ll leave you to help the little runt settle in.” He left you then in the bedroom without a second glance.

Something told you that you should not have asked about it and that was not where that conversation was going to end.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

[thecreaturecodex]

Spookisimus

Image by Walt McDougall. Accessed at Monster Brains here

[Walt McDougall’s Good Stories for Children was first runner up in the poll I ran a few months ago for what projects I should tackle, but it got delayed until now. This was primarily because the end of the school year was kicking my ass, so I wanted lower-effort projects like conversions. Of course, I ended up spending a lot of time and effort on those conversions, but whatever.

McDougall himself was a pioneer in the field of political cartooning in the United States. His cartoons were credited with influencing elections and making the art a must-have for newspapers in the late 19th century. His “Good Stories for Children” were syndicated around the US and collected into several books. He even drew an Oz comic strip, written by L. Frank Baum, for a few years, but the two men apparently did not like each other.

This particular story of the Spookisimus is a Scooby-Doo affair. The monster is a costume worn by a band of robbers, Chinese dragon style, to scare their victims, and the hero is a sensible boy who doesn’t believe in superstitions. Of course, I’ve never let a monster being fictional in its own source material stop me before. I did want to keep that theft MO in making it an actual monster.]

Spookisimus CR 8 LE Aberration This fearsome creature looks something like a giant reptilian grub with the head of a bearded cat. It has enormous hollow eyes, whiskers radiating from its cheeks and ears, and four rows of legs in parallel. Patches of luminescent scales run along its flanks.

Despite their monstrous appearances, the strange creatures known as spookisimus have very simple and understandable motives. They are greedy. A spookisimus is a collector of fine things, and will gladly rob other creatures to get them. They tend to prey on small villages and other remote settlements, clearing away those that would stop them with ferocious bellows and stinking gases. Their whiskers are in fact prehensile tendrils, which they use to manipulate objects. Opening doors, rifling through cabinets and snatching away weapons are all common applications of this ability.

Because a spookisimus is so large, they often have difficulty getting to well-hidden valuables. Some spookisimus rely on humanoid or smaller monstrous minions, ensuring that they get paid with some part of the bounty. In fact, a spookisimus can be a hub of economic activity for monsters that have no access to more conventional markets—they buy and sell objects, appraise treasures, and eat anyone who would attempt to steal from or cheat them.

A spookisimus is an omnivore, with a taste for pickled vegetables, preserved meats and beer. Although they may have staff of other species on hand, they usually view other spookisimus as competition, and keep their distance. They do reproduce normally, but their courtship is more a business proposition. Extensive dowries are prepared, childcare duties negotiated, and a joint fund contributed to in order to start the young spookisimus off on the right path when the parental investment reaches maturity.

Spookisimus             CR 8 XP 4,800 LE Huge aberration Init +5; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +16 Aura luminous (20 ft.) Defense AC 21, touch 9, flat-footed 20 (-2 size, +1 Dex, +12 natural) hp 97 (13d8+39) Fort +7, Ref +7, Will +11 DR 10/magic; Immune fear Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee bite +13 (2d8+9) Space 15 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks bellow, sulfurous belch, trample (2d6+9, DC 22) Statistics Str 22, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 13, Wis 16, Cha 16 Base Atk +9; CMB +17 (+19 disarm); CMD 28 (30 vs. disarm, cannot be tripped) Feats Combat Expertise, Deft Hands, Improved Disarm, Improved Initiative, Lightning Reflexes, Nimble Moves, Vital Strike Skills Appraise +6, Climb +14, Disable Device +15, Intimidate +16, Perception +16, Sense Motive +13, Sleight of Hand +15, Swim +14 Languages Common, Undercommon Ecology Environment any forests or underground Organization solitary or family (2-4) Treasure double standard Special Abilities Bellow (Su) As a standard action, a spookisimus can roar, causing all creatures that can hear it within 120 feet to become panicked for 1 minute. A successful DC 19 Will save reduces this to shaken for 1 round. A creature that successfully saves is immune to the bellow of that spookisimus for the next 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma based. Luminous (Ex) A spookisimus radiates normal light in a 20 foot radius and dim light in a 40 foot radius, as a torch. It can extinguish or resume this illumination with a move action. Sulfurous Belch (Ex) A spookisimus can breathe foul-smelling gas in a 40 foot cone as a standard action. All creatures caught in the cone are nauseated for 1d6+1 rounds, or sickened for the duration if they succeed a DC 19 Fortitude save. A creature that saves is immune to the sulfurous belch of that spookisimus for the next 24 hours. A spookisimus can use its sulfurous belch three times a day, but must wait 1d4 rounds between uses. The save DC is Constitution based.

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Waiting Long Enough - (Rose Lavelle x reader)

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!!! I was thankfully able to finish this late last night (sorry I was busy and only got to post it now). I'm working on another one but I'm not sure if I'll get it finished for today but I'll post it as soon as it's done. But for now I hope you enjoy!!!

The idea of soulmates is great. Scratch that it's euphoric. I mean imagine having someone who was literally made to be with you. Someone to be there for the good and bad days. Someone who does the little things for you just cause. Someone who gives you that sense of calm when the world might be falling around you. The perfect partner who knows you better than yourself sometimes.

In theory

The idea of soulmates is brilliant. But there's the small fact you have to consider. The fact of you have to find them first.

That's the part Rose struggled with.

Now they did have some help. Everyone had the day they meet their soulmate tattooed on their wrist. So you could imagine the feeling when Rose's tattoo told her she would meet her soulmate on Valentine's Day of all days.

Rose couldn't believe her luck. It seemed like something out of a movie. When she was younger she would always imagine these romantic chance encounters that would lead to her meeting her soulmate. Like something out of a fairy tail. How she would meet her soulmate and would be swept off her feet for the love holiday and fall in love.

The thought of it sounded perfect except for one thing......

The tattoo told you the day....not the year

So it was a repetitive cycle of heartbreak as Rose would wake up excited for Valentine's Day only to be disappointed when she wouldn't meet her soulmate. She tried to stay optimistic but it was hard when year after year pasted only for her to remain single on her own having no one to celebrate the holiday with.

Now it wasn't fool proof. I mean there was plenty of other situations where the soulmate tattoo failed. There was Lindsey and Sonnet for example. Obviously they had both met at camp but they had never expected it to be one of their teammates. And Sonnett still to this day would have thought her soulmate would have been that girl at the coffee shop if it wasn't for a friendly game of Truth or Dare at a team bonding session which she was dared to kiss her the blonde colorado native which revealed their initials which burned underneath their tattoos.

It also didn't help that this year Rose had to spend Valentine's Day in camp surrounded by couples.

"Who shit in your cereal?" Kelley laughs as she see Rose glare at the Valentine's decorations that littered the meal room. "Shut it" Rose mutters as she stabs at her breakfast with her spoon. "What's up Rosie?" Alex asks as she sits beside her best friend. Sonnett laughs, "Yeah you don't look really in the loving spirit".

Rose just rolls her eyes, "Well excuse me that I don't feel up for celebrating Valentine's Day when I'm the only person on the team who hasn't met their soulmate". Mal gives the girl a small smile, "Sorry Rosie". Alex gives her a sympathetic smile, "I know it sucks but you shouldn't let that get you down. Who knows? Maybe today will be the day you meet them?".

But Rose lets out a sigh as she plays with her food, "I rather not get my hopes up only to be disappointed. Like every year". "Well what are your plans for the day?" Mal asks trying to stir away from the conversation of Love which was clearly upsetting the girl. Rose just shrugs, "Probably the same as every year I'll probably end up just watching TV and drown myself in junk food and wait until the day passes".

Sonnett scoffs, "How are you planning on meeting your soulmate if you don't even leave the hotel?" Rose just gives the blonde a look, "That is rich coming from the pair that thought that having the same tattoo was a coincidence. If it wasn't for Kelley daring you to kiss each other at Truth or Dare you idiots still wouldn't know". Sonnett pouts, "Harsh". Lindsey shrugs, "But true".

Kelley points her fork at the blondes, "I still expect to be godmother of your first child.....or your child be named at me I'm fine with either".

While the two blondes blush furiously, Kelley turns back to Rose, "They are right though". Rose just glares at the defender as she raises her hands in surrender, "Hey how do you expect the love of your life to find you if you don't even give them a chance?"

Rose huffs because as much as she didn't want it admit it, Kelley was right. The chance of her soulmate finding her while she was couped up in her room feeling sorry for herself was very unlikely. "Well what do you want me to do? Walk around wearing a sign saying, "Are you my soulmate?""

Kelley shrugs, "I mean if it works..."

Alex sighs and shakes her head, "And you were doing so well..." Kelley looks at her best friend hurt, "Hey!" Mal turns to Rose, "They're right you should do something tonight". Rose bites her lip she knew her teammates were right but after years of searching she really didn't feel like having another let down. Mal puts her hand on the midfielders shoulder, "Look some of us were planning on going to a club tonight. You should come with us".

Rose frowns, "I don't know Mal". Lindsey jumps in, "C'mon it'll be fun! Worst case scenario you don't meet them and you have a good time with us. Best case scenario you find your soulmate and you thank us forever".

Rose bites her lip as she thinks for a second before sighing running her hand through her hair, "Fine what do I have to lose". The youngsters cheer as Mal wraps her arm around her, "Tonight's gonna be fun!" Rose sighed

She could only hope so

...........

Rose soon realised early on that her friends were wrong. They had barely been in the club and hour and she had already lost her friends. Granted they had lost Lindsey and Sonnett 15 minutes after entering the club. Rose rolled her eyes thinking that they were no doubt making out in the bathroom right now or worst not that Rose wanted to think about the later.

All she knew is that one second she was dancing with Mal and the others and the next she suddenly couldn't see anyone. She felt like she had searched the entire club but couldn't find any of her friends.  Rose pushed her way through the crowd hoping to find someone at the bar hopefully (she knew there was a 50 percent chance Kelley would be there) only to be disappointed when she didn't find anyone.

Rose let out a sigh as she slips her phone out of her to text the girls but before she can even switch on the phone she feels someone sliding up to her. A bit too close for her liking. "Hey there". Rose looks up to see a man smiling at her. Rose had to hold back a wince as he looked her up and down with what could only he described as a predatory look. Rose could only give him a small smile before turning away slightly trying to text one of the girls. But obviously he didn't get the hint as he just leans closer into her, "You here alone?"

Letting out a sigh she turns back to him, "I'm sorry but I have to go". She pushes her way back to the entrance before leading the club. Rose starts to text Mal that she was leaving to go back to the hotel when she bumped into someone.

"Oof" she grunts as she stumbles backwards from the collision. But before she could fall arms wrap around her steading her. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry". Rose shakes it off, "It's fine. I wasn't looking where I was going".

But when Rose looked up she let out a small gasp

As blue met green it had felt like the world had stopped. It was like Rose had temporarily forgot how to breathe as she looked into the stunning green eyes that peered down at her. And they would have no doubt stayed like that if it weren't for the shout behind her.

Rose couldn't help the groan as she turned to see the same guy from the club had followed her out. He gives her a grin, "There you are!" Rose sighs before speaking bluntly, "Look I'm sorry but I'm not interested". The man didn't look a bit deterred though as he just shrugs with a smile, "You sure I can't change your mind?" Before Rose can even think about saying anything she feels someone wrap their arm around her waist, "I think she's okay". I look behind me to see the same person from before that I bumped into her.

The guy looked a little taken back before he shakes it off, "Well if you ever change your mind you know where to find me". He sends the soccer player one last wink because strolling back into the club. Rose scoffs before smiling at her saviour, "Thanks. I don't think he would have left me alone if you hadn't stepped in".

But the stranger just shyly rubs the back of her neck, "No worries. Consider it an apology for barging into your earlier". It was this time that Rose got a good look at her saviour. She was seemed to tower over her. Not as tall as Sam but still tall. She was wearing jeans paired with a tight muscle tee which showed off her biceps. But what drew Rose in was the soft green eyes. They were so gentle and caring.

Rose suddenly realised that she was staring and blushed brightly already feeling the heat pour off her face, "W-well uh t-thank you for the help. I'm sorry for bumping into you". She gives me a smile, "I-its no problem".

Rose bit her lip playing with her phone before smiling at her, "Uh well I better go". Rose was silently hoping she would say something to stop her from leaving but she only nods. The midfielder gives her one last smile before brushing past her. She couldn't deny that the simple contact sent shivers up her spine like a shock of electricity.

But Rose had only made it about 5 steps before she was called back. Rose had to bite her lip to try and stave off the smile before she turned back around. The girl was sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck, "Uh do you mind if I walk you back? Just so I know you get there safely". But she immediately starts to stutter, "Uh unless that's weird. Yeah that's weird I-I'm sorry. Feel free to tell me to get lost".

But the poor girl was cut off by Rose giggling, "Yeah I would like that". She grins as she falls into step with the soccer player as they start the trek back to the hotel. It's quiet for a moment before the girl speaks up again, "I never got your name?" The midfielder smiles up at her, "Rose". She starts to chuckle making Rose tilt her head at her, "What?" She shrugs, "Nothing just that my name is Daisy". Rose couldn't help but snort, "Seriously?" She nods, "Seriously".

After that the conversation just flowed. The two were able to talk about anything and everything. Rose talked about soccer and her love of dogs which sparked off Daisy talking about her job as a vet. She even showed Rose some pictures of the animals she helped even if Rose mainly focused on the dogs.

But sadly it seemed that their time was up as they came up to the hotel. They stopped at the entrance neither knowing what exactly to do and both hoping to find some way of making this run longer. "Well this is me" Rose says quietly. Daisy just rocks on the balls of her feet, "Yeah.."

Rose bites the inside of her cheek hoping that something anything would happen to prevent her from going inside just yet. Rose had never felt more connected to anyone like this. Sure she had met people that she thought could have been her soulmate but none that gave her butterflies like this. But part of her held back scared of yet another failed attempt which she couldn't help after years of false hope.

But before she could even think of anything to say it was Daisy who filled the silence, "I-I know we've only met but c-can I try something?" Rose just silently nods as she watches the girl nervously step towards her. The soccer players breathe hitches as the taller girl cupped her face in her hands. But she couldn't help but lean into the warmth of her hand. Daisy searched her eyes looking for any bit of hesitance or doubt but when she found none she started to lean in. Both of them slowly started to lean until their lips met in a sweet and gentle kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything the girls had ever felt before. It would have gone on longer if no doubt for the burn they both felt on their wrists' making them pull back. Rose smiles down at the D.C now tattooed on her wrist forever more before looking up at her soulmate, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for that". Daisy just chuckles as she pulls out her wallet, "I always carry this in my wallet. It always felt right, I just didn't really know why until now".

Rose scrunches her face until Daisy hands her a  pressed flower....a rose to be exact. Rose smiles brightly before leaning back up to press another kiss to her lips. And that was the start of the story of Rose and Daisy. And their blossom relationship.

[noctilucid]

DannyMay Day 15: Nature

**References my Day 4 (Stars) drabble, but stands alone.**

"Circle up everybody!" Ms. Teslaff barked, rapping her walking stick on a boulder embedded in the trail.  "This camping trip is required by the state to be educational.  Therefore, you will be given a group assignment designed to meet municipal standards."  Mr. Lancer opened his messenger bag and started passing around packets and paper bags.  A ripple of complaints and muttered curses spread out through the group.  "You will be assigned a partner, and together you will search for and identify these plants.  Bring back a leaf for each plant in the packet to receive full credit."  

Paulina grimaced and looked down at her shoes for the tenth time that day.  She had thought they'd stay close to the cabins for this trip, and her usual cute flats would have served her just fine on the broad, packed paths cut by hundreds of students' feet in the years before.  But here she was, hiking in them.  The mud was bad enough, but all the uneven terrain was putting creases in the material every time she had to put her weight on the balls of her feet.  And now she was expected to go on a scavenger hunt?  What was she, five?  

"Paulina," Mr. Lancer said with a tired drawl as he read the names written on the brown paper bag on the top of his stack, "you will be partnered with Sam Manson."  He handed her the bag and a packet before moving on to the next group.  

Uhg, perfecto.  I'm with Creepy Manson.  They did this on purpose, didn't they?  Paulina cut her eyes at Sam as she stomped over in her combat boots, looking equally thrilled.  

"How many plants do we have to find?" Sam sighed, taking the packet from her.  She flipped through the pages.  "Well, at least these are all pretty distinctive."  

"I'm sure you're disappointed none of them can lay eggs in my face," Paulina returned with an edge.  She still hadn't forgiven Sam for that incident at the aquarium all those years ago.  

Sam narrowed her eyes, not looking up from the paper.  "Spores."

"What?"

"Plants don't lay eggs.  Some of them have spores."  She folded back a few pages and held up a picture of a fern they were supposed to locate.  "This one can lay spores in your face."  

Paulina raised her hand and waved at the teachers.  "Miss Teslaff, I want a different partner!  I don't want Sam to murder me and bury my body in the woods.  I'm too pretty to die."  

"No changing groups!"  

Paulina huffed and crossed her arms.  "Tough break," Dash said to her as he and Valarie headed off on one of the forks in the path.  

"Good luck!" Kwan chimed in, who was paired with Tucker.  "Hey, you got a plant identifying app on that thing…?"

"Do I ever!"  

Danny put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he followed Mikey uphill.  "Try not to be too hard on her?"  

"No promises," Sam grumbled.  

Soon the path had cleared out except for the two of them and two pairs of band nerds peering over their packets together.  

"Come on, let's get this over with," Sam said at length, grabbing Paulina by the wrist and hauling her off in a random direction.  

"Ow!  Hey, get off of me!"  

Sam did let go, and then scuffled up a tumble of boulders to a trail on higher ground.  Paulina let out a dramatic and frustrated groan before following her up much more slowly.  By the time she caught back up, Sam was standing in the shade of a tree growing out of a split in the rock, studying the packet again.  

"Oriental Thuja?" she said, forehead creased.  "Why would they even put that on here?  It's not native to this area."  

"So we won't be able to find it?" How much is this stupid assignment worth anyway?

"No, it could be here, but it's invasive."

Paulina rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you're going to be sacrimonious about plants now too."  

"Oh, of course," Sam returned.  "Because you only like nature if it's pretty and flatters you.  You can't be bothered to learn about something complicated like an ecosystem."  She headed down the trail at a brisk walk, grabbing a sapling and using it as a hand-hold as she swung herself down another steep portion.  

"Would you stop doing that?" Paulina yelled after her, but Sam didn't slow down.  "¡Joder!" she swore under her breath.  Somehow, she was going to make Sam regret this by the end of the day.  She just had to figure out how.  

***

A brooding 45 minutes later, and Sam had found five of the plants they were looking for with little help from Paulina.  

"Next is the purple coned larch…" Sam said, more to the paper held in front of her face than to Paulina.  "We should probably go uphill to look for it…"  Paulina died a little more inside.  No more climbing hills!

"Oh, is that one of the ones that's going to lay spores in my face?" Paulina sniped as Sam strode on ahead for the hundredth time.  "I guess you would end up with some weird kinks after being possessed by an ugly plant ghost."  

"You're the one who brought up the face eggs," Sam said, nonchalant, and notably not slowing down.  "I think that says more about you than about me."  

Paulina clenched her fists.  "Ugh!  You're such a freak, you know that?"

"Aaaand personal attacks mean you have no convincing arguments left in your arsenal!  Looks like it's Sam two, Paulina zero for the day so far."  Sam was steadily moving out of range, and Paulina was forced to follow if she wanted to continue the argument.  She was busy trying to think of a better jab while watching where she put her feet, but Sam beat her to the punch.  "It's kind of sad that you're still hung up on this actually.  Move on already."

Paulina gritted her teeth as the angle of the slope forced her to grab a muddy point of rock to haul herself up with.  "Would it kill you to apologize?  ¡Dios mío!”

"For what?"

"For harassing me with a starfish, Miss Don't-Be-Cruel-To-Animals!"  She stood up and tried to wipe her hand clean on a tree trunk.  "And I mean a real apology, not that stupid letter the teacher made you write."  

"Oh, yeah, to be clear, I didn't mean that apology letter."  

"It was clear," Paulina said, quiet and venomous.    

"I hope you shredded it or something.  I'm kind of embarrassed to have my name on the bottom of it."  

"I threw it in the fireplace as soon as I got home that day."  

"Well, that's a relief," Sam said with a performative grin.  "And no, after what you did to Danny, you'd better believe I'd eat a hot dog before I'd apologize to you."  

"I only went out with Danny to get under your skin!"

"Exactly."

Paulina's hands spasmed between gestures as she tried to collect herself.  "Did you ever think that maybe, if you weren't such a self-absorbed piece of shit, maybe your friends wouldn't get hurt as much?"

Sam's face went blank for a telling second before she focused back on the paper.  Paulina was a little surprised that jab had worked, actually, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She couldn't think of anything to follow up with, so she decided to allow the silence to be her victory.

And she's back to climbing again.  Someone kill me…

They had almost reached the summit of the hill they were on— Paulina was debating to herself whether it was tall enough to be considered a mountain— when Sam finally found what she was looking for.  The tree she was examining was scrawny and gnarled, squeezing its roots into the veins of available soil, and it was barely taller than they were.  

"I think this is it.  The needles look the same," Sam said, holding up the page for comparison.  "It would help if the picture wasn't in black and white, though."

Paulina cast a glance over the diagram and the plant in front of them.  "No, it doesn't have the little cones," she grumbled.  I swear to god, if we have to climb any higher…

"This one's pretty young.  I don't think it's old enough to have fruited before.  They take a couple of years to get established."  

"Well how can you tell if this is the right one?  There's a thousand different Christmas trees on this hill, and they all look the same."  Paulina shook her head.  "You know, whatever.  Let's just take a branch and go—"  She sputtered to a stop as Sam pushed the packet and paper bag full of samples into her hands.  Paulina adjusted the materials in her hands and watched as Sam stooped down, fished in her combat boot with two fingers, and pulled out something long and thin.  She pulled off the makeshift cap, revealing the stubby tip of a well-used oil pencil.  

Kneeling in front of the tree, Sam drew some intricate shape on the trunk with the dark blue pigment, then murmured something Paulina didn't catch.  In the shadow of the trees branches, Paulina saw the symbol glow faintly green, and the same light snaked up the tree along the ridges in the bark until it reached the closest branch.  With a quiver, the end of the branch put out fresh needles and then a tiny purple cone.  

"See?" Sam said, breaking off the end of the branch.  "Perfect match."

Paulina gaped like a fish. "You— Holy shit, you—"  Magic.  That was honest to god magic!  Paulina felt lightheaded.  She had been… dabbling.  Combing the internet and old bookstores.  At first, she had hoped to find a spell that could summon a ghost, or anything else she could use to get Phantom's attention.  But as the weeks had stretched into months, she had become desperate to find any scrap of genuine magic.  And here it was.  

"Are you— is that Wicca?" she finally managed.

Sam shook her head.  "Semitic Neopaganism.  There's a difference."  

Paulina paused to think on it.  Could I learn Jewish magic if I'm not Jewish?  Would it even work for me?  She chewed on her lip.  What am I saying?  There's no way Manson would teach me anything in the first place.  Then Sam started speaking softly, and Paulina had to shake out of her thoughts to catch it.

"I did think about apologizing," Sam said.  "Properly.  I was… kind of a mess in fifth grade.  Um.  And sixth and seventh too, actually."  Her eyes remained focused on the pine sprig in her hand as she spoke, slowly rotating it between her fingers.  "I've never liked you.  But that didn't make it right for me to pick on you."  She stood up and took back their paper bag, tucking the sample inside.  "But then you pulled Danny into it.  So, I'll never apologize."  She finally looked up and met Paulina's gaze.  "And neither will you."  Paulina opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Sam was an image of perfect calm.  It was not an accusation, not a barb, just a statement.  And Paulina had no idea how to respond.  "We're both petty bitches," Sam continued. "It's in our natures.  So… let's just move on."  She extended a hand to Paulina.  "Deal?"  

The offered hand was stiff and formal, as if this were a business meeting rather than two sweaty girls talking on a hiking trail, but Paulina saw an earnestness in it.  Slowly, she reached out and slid her own palm into Sam's.  

"Deal."  She watched Sam for a moment, her unwavering gaze, the ridiculous purple contacts, the stillness which had come over her, like a stone come to rest.  Not sophisticated or refined, as Paulina sought to be, but… very Sam.  Very self-assured, in a way Paulina pretended not to admire.  "We don't like each other."

"Naturally."  Sam released her hand and turned to head back down the slope.  

"But we… don't hate each other either.  We just... are.  Now."  

Paulina saw the little quirk of a smile enter Sam's lips.  "Yeah."  

"And maybe… we can talk about magic sometimes?"  She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Like, over text, so nobody gets the wrong idea?"

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah.  That sounds fun."  

A smile crept over Paulina's face in spite of her attempt to hide it.  Oh, what does it matter?  Sam's not looking at me anyway.  She gave herself a moment to squeal silently in her head.  Real magic!  She'd found someone who knew real magic!  She shook her head again.  Of course it would be Manson.  Of course.  

She picked up her pace, in spite of her sore feet, in spite of the damage she was doing to her shoes, to catch up to Sam.  It was easier going downhill.  "What do we still have to find?"  

Sam extended the packet to her, pointing to one of the plants.  "Just two left, lady fern and honeysuckle.  They both like to grow near water, so I saved them for last.  We can head down and check the creek on our way back."  Oh thank god, we're almost done.  Paulina leaned in to get a better look at the fern diagram.  "You know, there's a spell I've been working on that uses ferns.  Maybe we should grab a couple extra?"  

Paulina squealed out loud this time, and clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers.  "Solemn.  Solemn goth witch."  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look composed.  Sam laughed.  

"Nah, you don't have the wardrobe for that.  Go on, be as pink as you'd like."  She stepped down a bank of tree roots and held a branch back for Paulina to follow in her wake.  Paulina paused in surprise before accepting the gesture.

This will take some getting used to.  

[keity-devil]

Original, this one was Not planed to be a ship fic, But, because I like the Destinyshipp, [and someone really enjoy my last one (@breathlessmorro, love you enjoy it.)], I edited and made it.

--

Emo-Bom

--

"Morro, come on." The Fire Master almost begged the Wind Master to come and train with him.

Kai didn't understand why he was doing this. For what? Anyway it was going to be a short workout- oh, that's why. He wants to end this. He might want to see Skylor later, maybe. But not Morro, who was looking at him unfriendly from the couch.

"I'm not going anywhere." Morro said sharply, sinking deeper into the soft cushions of the couch.

"Sensei said. His orders. Not mine."

Morro was silent. Kai knew why he didn't want to train, especially with him. He was afraid that the deed of the past would be repeated. Morro remembered the fire as it cornered him like a deer surrounded by the sharp fangs of ferocious dogs of prey, how the fierce hot fire grew around him, the sparks leaping like crazy in the air, his throat drying, his eyes it becomes a cold and gray waterfall, his body trembling, burning-

"Come on," Kai's voice brought him out of the gray memories. "I'm not going to use the fire on you. We're not going to use our powers for this training, okay?" Kai had reassured him in a calm tone, the same tone that calmed Lloyd after a nightmare.

Morro sighed heavily and annoyed. "Fine.." He said firmly and got up from his seat. He was sorry he was leaving the warm, soft place where he had sunk and made a small bed. He had a plan to take a nap there for the rest of the day, but it looks like the Universe has other plans for him this day. "Let's get this over with." Morro had passed Kai as he spoke, his hands beside him.

Kai looked back at Morro. When he first trained with him, alone, he used his firepower against him. When the fire completely surrounded Morro, he fell to the ground, trembling and breathing hard, very hard. He was actually panicking, he had gone into a panic attack, a big one. Then he saw him for the first time in a panic of pure fear, the first time he learned of his fear of fire. He knew water was, but the fire, he didn't expect it.

Kai and Morro had begun training with swords. None of them used their powers, as was their understanding. It was just the two of them. Zane, Jay, and Pixal had gone shopping for materials for the inventions and were going to make a short stop at Borg. Cole, Lloyd and Nya went shopping for food. And at the Monastery, Kai, Morro and Wu remained. Wu told Kai he was coming out in a few minutes.

Kai was about to fall due to Morro's hard blow, but he mobilized quickly. When Wu showed up, Morro changed, and Kai noticed that quickly. It wasn't that hard to see his facial expressions change, especially when it comes to the former ghost around Master Wu, otherwise it's hard to tell what he has or if something really bothers him.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked in a whisper.

"Yeah.. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Since Sensei came out, your mood has kind of changed. Not that you've had a good one before, so you know."

Morro tensed harder. "Doesn't matter." And with that, he had managed to tear him down with a sharp gust of wind and sword.

Kai fell on his back, letting out a squeal of pain. Morro was scared, he didn't want to be so harsh with him or use his powers. He let his emotions dominate him again.

"Easy!" Kai snapped at him.

"Sorry." He helps him get up. "I didn't want to use them, it was an accident."

Morro glanced at his former and current father. He saw that he did not take his eyes off the cup of hot tea, as the little steam rose, until you could no longer see its tip in the sky, which held his gently between his fingers.

"Talk to him." Kai said suddenly to the brunette's ears.

"What the?! No!" Morro raised his voice reluctantly.

"Yes! I can see that- "

"Kai, Morro." Wu's voice was calm. For Kai, he was calm, neutral, but for Morro, it was awful. "Training is over for today. For both of you. The rest of the day is free, you can do whatever you want."

Wu slowly rose from his seat, taking the cup of tea with him. Morro let out an annoyed sigh and threw himself on the floor when Wu was out of sight.

"I'm a huge disappointment..." He murmured, letting his hands fall on his lap and the hair in his face.

"What are you talking about?! You're not! You can't." He couldn't believe what he was hearing, especially from Morro's mouth. Kai did not consider Morro a person to give up at all. NOT AT ALL. He fight him. He had seen that special gleam in his eyes. Why would he give up now? Why? It didn't make sense.

"I am. You've seen it too, I'm a disappointment to him. I'll always be one." He didn't trust himself. Was scared. Frightened that he didn't live up to Wu's expectations, that he wasn't good enough to be his student and... son. That he's that little boy lost again with no purpose in the world.

Kai got angry. Yes, he doesn't trust him completely, but he can't stand to see him like that. He knows that Morro is good, he is good and talented. He is gorgeous even when he gets angry. And that smile or grin that made him jump out in the past, and now it was daylight and- What are you thinking about now?

He stood at his level, put a hand on his shoulder, and Morro raised his head.

"Listen here, Emo-Ghost-Boy.- "

"Emo-Ghost-Boy?!"

" -Sensei Wu doesn't think you're a disappointment. He's himself... your adoptive father! He wouldn't see his own son as a disappointment. He told you you weren't one in his eyes and soul, why not Does that get into your head once?"

Morro lowered his head again. "Every time I look into his eyes.. I remember his look from long ago. How they looked at me with disappointment and hope that I would be the Green Ninja.. his light... And.. I was fixed on it."

"You're fixed dumb."

"Tell me something I didn't already know, Cherry Bom.- "

"Cherry Bom?!"

" -Please." He said sarcastically, but he still felt bad.

"Hey," Kai had begun. "Let's.. find something to do. Something funny, relaxing. You're too tense and stressed. That doesn't do for you any good."

In Kai's eyes, Morro was always like that. He didn't think he'd ever seen him relax- Oh, yes. Once time. When he slept. Then he was calm, as if he had nothing, absolutely nothing sad on his soul. Too bad that wasn't true even when he was awake.

"There is no relaxation where I come from." Morro said, his eyes fixed on Kai's.

"Don't be like Lloyd with this! Come on." It helps him get up. "We're going to change, and we're going somewhere to waste time. What do you say?"

"I say I'm going crazy with you today." On the one hand, he liked what he heard. A break wouldn't hurt.

"To know." He put his hands on the back of his neck, turning his back on the brunette, and his steps toward the entrance to the Monastery. "I'll knock on your door in 15 minutes. I hope you'll be ready then."

Morro looked at him. He could feel his stomach empty. Some of Kai's words made him wonder if he was doing it on purpose or not, if he hated it or not. He runs past the Fire Master, knowing he won't be ready in 15 minutes. Kai chuckled when he saw his reaction.

------

"Aaaand, where are you taking me??" Morro asked him lightly and curiously.

Morro hadn't been to town before, well, he was, but only with Lloyd or Jay. And that was for shopping. But to sit and admire the landscapes around him, no. This outing in the city seemed interesting to him. He was curious how it would be.

"Do you have a specific place in mind?"

"Not."

"Okay. Then stay calm, I can handle it."

The lights in the city captivated his eyes. The buildings were so big. Their architecture now was so different from when he was small. They were new, modified, modernized. It took Morro a while to get used to the technology, but with the help of Lloyd, Jay and Zane, he did it. He still had small question marks, but he was doing slowly. With small steps.

His dark green eyes, with a slight glint of light gray through them, saw something furry on all fours, stepping not so far away from them.

"Oh! A cat!!" Morro drew the cat quickly to him, beginning to stroke it when it reached his feet.

Kai stared at him confused by the brunette's unexpected reaction to the speechless little creature. "It's... a street cat, Morro. He has fleas and who knows what else he has." Kai told him. Apart from Lloyd, he did not think he would see anyone rejoice so much at the sight of a cat. It seems that Morro is a cat person.

"So, and? It's a cat!!" He smiled wide with joy at seeing and touching one. You could see the sparkle of a child in his eyes. "Can we keep her?? I promise I'll take care of her!! Or he's a He.. But I'll take care of her or he every time! Please!"

"Uh... If Lloyd failed to persuade us to take one, you won't."

"But I'm not asking them for this. I'm asking you for this."

Kai felt the fire in him grow. He did not imagine that he would hear these words from Morro's mouth. Now he was even more confused about his feelings.

Kai was watching the street cat after Morro. They both stared at him with wide eyes.

"You look so much like that cat."

"Hm?"

"You're both staring at me in the same way." Morro's childish smile appeared, and Kai could feel the redness appear on his face, forming the red of a rose in his youth. "Did W-Wu ever let you have one when you were little?"

"N-no..?"

"Then neither do I."

"Oh, come on now!!" The cat ran away from the brunette's hands. "Nooo! Kittyyy!! Come baaack!" He returned to Kai. "Look what you did! You scared the cat."

"Me?! You scared her! You didn't keep it anyway."

The brunette stood up. "It doesn't matter, what's the next point??"

"A- I didn't get to the first one either. You were distracted by the cat!"

He blinked twice. "Oh. Okay. Then let's go first."

Kai sighed, but smiled.

The way they were going now, Kai knew him. He did it many times. Or to calm/sit alone, to eat, to see Skylor.

"And, we are here!" Kai was sitting in front of a restaurant.

"A.. noodle ..restaurant?" Morro said in an unimpressed and confused tone, why his eyes see.

"Mhm. You'll love their food. Oh, I have a girl friend here."

Morro looked at him for a long time. "Friend friend? Or girl friend in the sense of just friends?"

"Just friends. Why?"

"Curiosity." He opened the restaurant door and held it open until Kai entered.

"Thanks."

The Master of the Wind could feel and see how the eyes of the people inside were on him. He wanted to put on the hood of his coat, to leave the next second, but he stopped, knowing that someone would ask him questions.

'All is well. Pretend I'm not here. Pretend no one sees you. It's just you and Kai somewhere, spending time together with... a girl you don't know and you know for sure she'll take all your light and talk to Kai more and he'll ignore you and leave you- '

"Skylor!" Kai fiery voice destroyed his range of thoughts, but it made his heart beat faster and was afraid that what he sensed would become real.

A girl with red hair in a ponytail, warm eyes, orange clothes, and a kitchen apron over them, had smiled at them- simle at Kai.

"Hey Kai. I didn't expect to see you today."

"Neither do I. Oh, I want you to meet someone." Kai pulled Morro close to him. "Morro, she is Skylor. Skylor, he is Morro."

"I'm glad meeting you, Morro." Skylor smiled friendly.

"As I am." Morro smiled at her as friendly.

'I already dislike you.'

"I brought him to relax a little. Can you serve us your best, Sky? Please."

"If you pay." She smiles.

"You know I do."

The redhead giggled and went to make the two portions. Morro and Kai sat in their chairs. Kai kept telling him that the food here was wonderful, and about Skylor.

It wasn't long before the food arrived.

"Two servings of the best I served."

"Thank you very much, Sky." Kai thank her, and pay, as promised.

The brunette was almost staring at the noodles in front of him. His hands had slowly picked up the chopsticks, and he had slowly begun to eat. The warm taste of the noodles had warmed Morro, the taste of the warmth of the food had reminded him of his first hot meal the day Wu had taken him under his wing. He didn't know if he disliked Skylor or not, but he certainly loved the food here.

But nothing good lasts, at least for the former ghost it didn't last. Morro was getting bored, beating his sticks in the empty bowl. Kai kept talking to Skylor. His suspicion had come true.

'Can she talk a lot more?? Is she so a extrovert person? My head already hurts at how much she talks. If only you could talk something I understand and know! How can I get out of here? Hmm. Do it myself or do I take Kai with me? Well, I need him. I don't know the way home. I didn't pay attention. A bonus point for me on the 'You're Not Careful' list. Hmm.. Aha!'

Morro pulled out his phone. "Oh, Kai." He put on his most surprised, harmless, innocent voice he has. "I got a message from Lloyd. He says we have to go home. It's late however."

Kai looked at him intently after checking the time. "Oh, you're right. It's quite late." He returned to Skylor. "See you Skylor another time, thanks for the food."

"The pleasure was mine, Kai." Morro stood up first. He couldn't wait to leave. "And to meet you too, Morro."

Morro smiled falsely. "As I." And he leaves, just as the smile leaves.

------

There was a rhythmic knock at the Chosen One's door.

"Open." Inside, the Master of Fire had appeared. "Kai, hey. How was going out with Morro?" Lloyd smiled at him, one that made Kai skin rise.

"You say it like it was a date or something."

"If you like him,"  'And he likes you.'   "I can call it like that."

"You scare me with that smile. And it wasn't a date!" He felt red and ashamed that Lloyd could read him like an open book. "And if it was a date- "

"It was one."

" -Why did you send a message to Morro that we should return to the Monastery?"

"I didn't send him any messages. Nobody did. I think he lied to you. Have you been with anyone?"

"We went to Skylor's restaurant."

"Ooooh." He had taken a candy. "Then it explains why he did it."

"Why?!"

"I won't tell you that. I'll leave you alone to find out. Or you can find out from him if you ask him." He told him, shifting his attention back to the comic and candy.

Kai looked at him one last time, then went to Morro's room. He had knocked quickly on his door, receiving a confirmatory answer. Inside, Morro was wearing a cream sweater, and some black pants. His hair was caught in a mess with a hair clip. Some threads had fallen out. He was so nice to Kai's eyes and soul. He hadn't seen him look like that before, but he thought he looked really good.

"Kai? Are you... okay? You've been staring at me for a while."

"Morro, why you look so- why did you lie to me that Lloyd didn't text you to come back?"

'Focus, Kai. Now it was Not the time to say nonsense.'

"I wanted to get out of there." He answered quickly, in a neutral tone.

"Why?"

"Because it hurt my head how much she talked and she took you! I knew this was going to happen. That after you meet her, you'll put me aside."

"Are you... jealous?" Kai asked the question. That was the only word that had crossed his mind. Others did not exist even after he asked the question.

"Maybe! I do not know."

A smile spread around the Fire Master's face.

"Why.. are you smiling like that?" Morro asked him confused and a little scared/worried.

"Just don't.. you like me, do you?"

"Eh!? Nonsense! How could I do that?!"

"With the red face you have now I can."

"It's like yours is not."

One minute, two, three and four.

The embarrassing silence between them was great. It was as if the redness on their faces intensified, for Kai on his ears. Morro couldn't make a small breeze to cool the atmosphere. He had the impression that the heat of Kai's fire was turning the room into a tiny sauna.

"You like me?"

Morro's eyes widened. His shoulders had dropped, staring at Kai.

"I don't know.. I never know how I feel. If I really like you, I don't really know that." He answered honestly, still with emotions, he didn't know why either.

"Would you like to try?" Kai asked him with low hopes. He didn't think he would ever like Morro, but never say never.

"Maybe... If you don't tell anyone about it, I agree."

"I promise." He looked out the window of the room, which was half open. The sky was dark, tiny stars illuminating the sky. "I think it's time for a well-deserved sleep."

"Mhm. You know, it was fun today. I.. relaxed. Thank you."

"The pleasure was mine. Good night, Emo-Ghost-Boy."

"Good night, Cherry Bom."

He closed the door to Morro's room, leaving for his. He closed his own door, screaming for happiness in a pillow.

----------

Long. ... I don't have any excuse for this.

Maybe the next one will be a first kiss, idk. If you guys want, of course. Or something else.

[suckmykawaiidesu]

Compilation of Nessian Moments:  ‘A Court of Wings and Ruin ’ Edition

Hello loves! ♥️

I recently asked for a compilation list of Nessian moments and there doesn’t seems to be one so I decided to hurriedly put one together before the release of “A Court of Silver Flames”. I have probably missed some scenes but these are the ones that I came across during my re-read. I will be making a post for each book and will link them once available:

A Court of Mist and Fury

ACOMAF Target Exclusive Story uploaded by bookofademigod

A Court of Frost and Starlight

Sneak Peak at the end of A Court of Frost and Starlight

A Court of Wings and Ruin

Chapter 15

Nesta had been beautiful as a human woman. As High Fae, she was devastating. From the utter stillness with which Cassian stood beside me, I wondered if he thought the same thing. She was in a pewter-colored gown, its make simple, yet the material fine. Her hair was braided over the crown of her head, accentuating her long, pale neck—a neck Cassian’s eyes darted to, then quickly away from, as she sized us up and said to me, “You’re back.” With her hair styled like that, it hid the pointed ears. But there was nothing to hide the ethereal grace as she took one step. As her focus again returned to Cassian and she added,

“What do you want?”

But Cassian sauntered over to Nesta, a half smile spreading across his face. She stood stiffly while he picked up the book, read the title, and chuckled. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romance reader.” She gave him a withering glare. “And, again, why are you here?” She snatched her book from Cassian, who allowed her to do so, but remained standing beside her. Watching every breath, every blink. “Elain’s mate is here,” I said. And it was the wrong thing to utter in Nesta’s presence. She went white with rage. “He is no such thing to her,” she snarled, advancing on me enough that Rhys slid a shield into place between us. As if he, too, had glimpsed that mighty power in her eyes that day in Hybern. And did not know how it would manifest.

“If you bring that male anywhere near her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Cassian crooned, trailing her at a casual pace as she stopped perhaps five feet from me. He lifted a brow as she whirled on him. “You won’t join me for practice, so you sure as hell aren’t going to hold your own in a fight. You won’t talk about your powers, so you certainly aren’t going to be able to wield them. And you—” “Shut your mouth,” she snapped, every inch the conquering empress. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, and if you—” “You come between a male and his mate, Nesta Archeron, and you’re going to learn about the consequences the hard way.” Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian only gave her a crooked grin.

Nesta only shook her head, turning toward the chair and her book. “I don’t care. Do what you want.” A stinging dismissal, if not admission that she still trusted me enough to consider Elain’s needs first. Rhys jerked his chin at Cassian in a silent order to leave, and as I followed them, I said softly, “I’m sorry, Nesta.” She didn’t answer as she sat stiffly in her chair, picked up her book, and dutifully ignored us. A blow to the face would have been better. When I looked ahead, I found Cassian staring back at Nesta as well. I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian’s eyes as he gazed at my sister. The sorrow. And the longing

Chapter 16 I cringed. “I guarantee Nesta is now guarding Elain. I think she might honestly kill him if he so much as tries to touch her.” “Not without training she won’t,” Cassian grumbled, tucking in his wings as he claimed the seat beside Mor that Azriel had vacated. The shadowsinger didn’t so much as look at it. No, Azriel just walked to the wall beside Cassian and leaned against the wood paneling. But Rhys and the others remained quiet enough that I knew to proceed carefully as I asked Cassian, “Nesta spoke as if you’ve been up at the House … often. You’ve offered to train her?” Cassian’s hazel eyes shuttered as he crossed a booted ankle over another, stretching his muscled legs before him. “I go up there every other day. It’s good exercise for my wings.” Those wings shifted in emphasis. Not a scratch marred them. “And?” “And what you saw in the library is a pleasanter version of the conversation we always have.” Mor’s lips pressed into a thin line, as if she was trying her best not to say anything. Azriel was trying his best to shoot a warning stare at Mor to remind her to indeed keep her mouth shut. As if they’d already discussed this. Many times. “I don’t blame her,” Cassian said, shrugging despite his words. “She was—violated. Her body stopped belonging wholly to her.” His jaw clenched. Even Amren didn’t dare say anything. “And I am going to peel the King of Hybern’s skin off his bones the next time I see him.”

Chapter 17 Not that there was much finery to bother with. I’d opted for my Illyrian leather pants and a loose, white shirt—and a pair of embroidered slippers that Cassian kept snorting at as we flew. When he did so for the third time in two minutes, I pinched his arm and said, “It’s hot. Those boots are stuffy.” His brows rose, the portrait of innocence. “I didn’t say anything.” “You grunted. Again.” “I’ve been living with Mor for five hundred years. I’ve learned the hard way not to question shoe choices.” He smirked. “However stupid they may be.” “It’s dinner. Unless there’s some battle planned afterward?” “Your sister will be there—I’d say that’s battle aplenty.” I casually studied his face, noting how hard he worked to keep his features neutral, to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but on my own. Rhys flew nearby, far enough to remain out of earshot as I said, “Would you use her to see if she can somehow fix the wall?” Hazel eyes shot to me, fierce and clear. “Yes. Not only for our sakes, but … she needs to get out of the House. She needs to …” Cassian’s wings kept up a steady booming beat, the new sections only detectable by their lack of scarring. “She’ll destroy herself if she stays cooped up in there.” My chest tightened. “Do …” I thought through my words. “The day she was changed, she … I felt something different with her.” I fought against the tensing in my muscles as I recalled those moments. The screaming and the blood and the nausea as I watched my sisters taken against their will, as I could do nothing, as we— I swallowed down the fear, the guilt. “It was like … everything she was, that steel and fire … It became magnified. Cataclysmic. Like … looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.” I shook my head, as if it would clear away the memory of the predator, the rage simmering in those blue-gray eyes. “I will never forget those moments,” Cassian said quietly, scenting or sensing the memories wreaking havoc on me. “As long as I live.” “Have you seen any glimpse of it since?” “Nothing.” The House loomed, golden lights at the walls of windows and doorways beckoning us closer. “But I can feel it—sometimes.” He added a bit ruefully, “Usually when she’s pissed at me. Which is … most of the time.” “Why?” They’d always been at each other’s throats, but this … yes, the dynamic between them had been different earlier. Sharper. Cassian shook his dark hair out of his eyes, slightly longer than the last time I’d seen it. “I don’t think Nesta will ever forgive me for what happened in Hybern. To her—but mostly to Elain.” “Your wings were shredded. You were barely alive.” For that was guilt—ravaging and poisonous—in each of Cassian’s words. What the others had been fighting against in the loft. “You were in no position to save anyone.” “I made her a promise.” The wind ruffled Cassian’s hair as he squinted at the sky. “And when it mattered, I didn’t keep it.” I still dreamed of him trying to crawl toward her, reaching for her even in the semiunconscious state the pain and blood loss had thrown him into. As Rhysand had once done for me during those last moments with Amarantha. Perhaps only a few wing beats separated us from the broad landing veranda, but I asked, “Why do you bother, Cassian?” His hazel eyes shuttered as we smoothly landed. And I thought he wouldn’t answer, especially not as we heard the others already in the dining room beyond the veranda, especially not when Rhys gracefully landed beside us and strode in ahead with a wink. But Cassian said quietly as we headed for the dining room, “Because I can’t stay away.”

Chapter 17 His focus shifted behind me before he replied—and Lucien shut his mouth. His metal eye whirred softly. I followed his glance, and tried not to tense as Nesta stepped into the room. Yes, devastating was a good word for how lovely she’d become as High Fae. And in a long-sleeved, dark blue gown that clung to her curves before falling gracefully to the ground in a spill of fabric … Cassian looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

Chapter 19 Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes. I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there. “Care to join?” Cassian purred. Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.” I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian. Cassian extended a wrapped hand, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Scared?” I wisely kept my mouth shut as Nesta stepped from the open doorway into the blinding light of the courtyard. “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?” I choked, and Cassian shot me a warning glare, daring me to laugh. But I felt for that bond in my mind, lowering my mental shields enough to say to Rhysand, wherever he was in the city, Please come spare me from Cassian and Nesta’s bickering. A heartbeat later, Rhys crooned, Regretting becoming High Lady? I savored that voice—that humor. But I shoved that simmering panic down again as I countered, Is this part of my duties? A sensual, dark laugh. Why do you think I was so desperate for a partner? I’ve had almost five centuries to deal with this alone. It’s only fair you have to endure it now. Cassian was saying to Nesta, “Seems like you’re a little on edge, Nesta. And you left so abruptly last night … Any way I can help ease that tension?”

Chapter 22 The Carver purred to Cassian, “If I tell you a secret, warrior-heart, what will you give me?” Neither of us spoke. Carefully—we’d have to phrase and do this so carefully. The Carver stroked the shard of bone in his palm, attention fixed upon a stone-faced Cassian. “What if I tell you what the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something—something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth.” Cassian’s golden-brown face had drained of color, his wings tucking in tight. “What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?” My blood went cold. “What came out was not what went in.” A rasping laugh as the Carver laid the shard of bone on the ground beside him. “How lovely she is—new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen, as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.” Rhys had warned me of the inmates’ capacity to lie, to sell anything, to get free. “Nesta,” the Bone Carver murmured. “Nes-ta.” I squeezed Cassian’s hand. Enough. It was enough of this teasing and taunting. But he didn’t look at me. “How the wind moans her name. Can you hear it, too? Nesta. Nesta. Nesta.” I wasn’t sure Cassian was breathing. “What did she do, drowning in the ageless dark? What did she take?” It was the bite in the last word that snapped my tether of restraint. “If you wish to find out, perhaps you should stop talking long enough for us to explain.” My voice seemed to shake Cassian free of whatever trance he’d been in. His breathing surged, tight and fast, and he scanned my face—apology in his eyes.

Chapter 23 “Would you be frightened of her, if Nesta was—Death? Or if her power came from it?” Cassian was quiet for a long moment. He said at last, “I’m a warrior. I’ve walked beside Death my entire life. I would be more afraid for her, to have that power. But not afraid of her.” He considered, and added after a heartbeat, “Nothing about Nesta could frighten me.”

Chaper 24 Mercifully, or perhaps not, Nesta’s retching filled the silence. Cassian gaped at Rhys. “What did you do?” “I asked him the same thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He said he ‘went fast.’ ” Nesta vomited again—then silence. Cassian sighed at the ceiling. “She’ll never fly again.” The doorknob twisted, and we tried—or at least Cassian and I did—not to seem like we’d been listening to her. Nesta’s face was still greenish-pale, but … Her eyes burned. There was no way of describing that burning—and even painting it might have failed. Her eyes remained the same blue-gray as my own. And yet … Molten ore was all I could think of. Quicksilver set aflame. She advanced a step toward us. All her attention fixed on Rhys. Cassian casually stepped in her path, wings folded in tight. Feet braced apart on the carpet. A fighting stance—casual, but … his Siphons glimmered. “Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity. He just went on, “It was Amren’s fault, of course, but no one believed me. And no one dared banish her.” She blinked slowly. But the burning, molten gaze became mortal. Or as mortal as one of us could be. Until Lucien breathed, “What are you?” Cassian didn’t seem to dare take his focus off Nesta. 

Chapter 27 Cassian had stationed himself by the doorway, I realized, to be closer to Nesta. To grab her if Amren decided she didn’t particularly care for where this conversation was headed. Or for any of the furniture in this room. Precisely why Rhys now placed himself on Amren’s other side—to draw her attention away from me, and Mor behind us, every muscle in her lithe body on alert. Cassian was staring at Nesta—hard enough that my sister at last twisted toward him. Met his gaze. His head tilted—slightly. A silent order.

Cassian casually slid Nesta behind him, his fingers snagging in the skirts of her black gown. As if to reassure himself that she wasn’t in Amren’s direct path. Nesta only rose onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.

Chapter 30 Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. “Morning, Nesta,” he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. “Elain.”

Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up. I chose that moment to winnow to the skies above the House, chuckling as wind carried me through the world. Some sisterly payback, I supposed. For Nesta’s general attitude. Mercifully, no one saw my slightly better crash landing on the veranda, and by the time Cassian’s dark figure appeared in the sky, Nesta’s hair bright as bronze in the morning sun, I’d brushed off the dirt and dust from my leathers. My sister’s face was wind-flushed as Cassian gently set her down. Then she strode for the glass doors without a single look back. “You’re welcome,” Cassian called after her, more than a bite to his voice. His hands clenched and slackened at his sides—as if he were trying to loosen the feel of her from his palms.

Chapter 31 In the terrible silence, Cassian hauled me out—toward the dim center of the pit. Nesta was standing there, arms around herself, eyes wide. Cassian only stretched out an arm for her. As if in a trance, she walked right to his side. His arms tightened around both of us, Siphons flaring, gilding the darkness with bloodred light.

Chapter 32 I wondered what had happened in those initial moments, when he’d found my sister. As if he’d read my thoughts, Rhys sent the image to me, no doubt courtesy of Cassian. Panic—and rage. That was all he knew as he shot down into the heart of the pit, spearing for that ancient darkness that had once shaken him to his very marrow. Nesta was there—and Feyre. It was the former he saw first, stumbling out of the dark, wide-eyed, her fear a tang that whetted his rage into something so sharp he could barely think, barely breathe— She let out a small, animal sound—like some wounded stag—as she saw him. As he landed so hard his knees popped. He said nothing as Nesta launched herself toward him, her dress filthy and disheveled, her arms stretching for him. He opened his own for her, unable to stop his approach, his reaching— She gripped his leathers instead. “ Feyre,” she rasped, pointing behind her with a free hand, shaking him solidly with the other. Strength—such untapped strength in that slim, beautiful body. “Hybern.” That was all he needed to hear. He drew his sword—then Rhys was arrowing for them, his power like a gods-damned volcanic eruption. Cassian charged ahead into the gloom, following the screaming—

Chapter 39 But Nesta was glancing between us all, her back still stiff, mouth a thin line. “Where is he?” “Who?” Rhys crooned. “Cassian.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard his name from her lips. Cassian had always been him or that one. And Nesta had been … pacing in the foyer. As if she was worried. I opened my mouth, but Mor beat me to it. “He’s busy.” I’d never heard her voice so … sharp. Icy. Nesta held Mor’s stare. Her jaw tightened, then relaxed, then tightened—as if fighting some battle to keep questions in. Mor didn’t drop her gaze. Mor had never seemed ruffled by mention of Cassian’s past lovers. Perhaps because they’d never meant much—not in the ways that counted. But if the Illyrian warrior no longer stood as a physical and emotional buffer between her and Azriel … And worse, if the person who caused that vacancy was Nesta … Mor said flatly, “When he gets back, keep your forked tongue behind your teeth.” My heart leaped into a furious beat, my arms slack at my sides at the insult, the threat. But Rhys said, “Mor.” She slowly—so slowly—looked at him. There was nothing but uncompromising will in Rhys’s face. “We now leave for the meeting in three days. Send out dispatches to the other High Lords to inform them. And I’m done debating where to meet. Pick a place and be done with it.” She stared him down for a heartbeat, then dragged her gaze back to my sister. Nesta’s face had not altered, the coldness limning it unbending. She was so still she seemed to barely be breathing. But she did not balk. She did not avert her eyes from the Morrigan. Mor vanished with hardly a blink. Nesta only turned and headed for the sitting room, where I noticed books had been laid on the low-lying table before the hearth.

Behind us, Amren murmured to Nesta, “Cassian has gone to war many times, girl. He isn’t general of Rhys’s forces for nothing. This battle was a skirmish compared to what lies ahead. He’s likely visiting the families of the fallen as we speak. He’ll be back before the meeting.” Nesta said, “I don’t care.”

Chapter 42 Nesta only lifted her chin. “I …” I’d never seen her stumble for words. “I do not want to be remembered as a coward.” “No one would say that,” I offered quietly. “I would.” Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but… avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval—more. “It was some distant thing,” she said. “War. Battle. It … it’s not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means …telling them what happened.”

Mor sagged a bit, jewelry glinting with the movement, and went to take Cassian’s arm. But he’d at last approached Nesta. And as the world began to turn to shadows and wind, I saw Cassian tower over my sister, saw her chin lift defiantly, and heard him growl, “Hello, Nesta.” Rhys seemed to halt his winnowing as my sister said, “So you’re alive.” Cassian bared his teeth in a feral grin, wings flaring slightly. “Were you hoping otherwise?” Mor was watching—watching so closely, every muscle tense. She again reached for his arm, but Cassian angled out of reach, not tearing his eyes from Nesta’s blazing gaze. Nesta blurted, “You didn’t come to—” She stopped herself. The world seemed to go utterly still at that interrupted sentence, nothing and no one more so than Cassian. He scanned her face as if furiously reading some battle report. Mor just watched as Cassian took Nesta’s slim hand in his own, interlacing their fingers. As he folded in his wings and blindly reached his other hand back toward Mor in a silent order to transport them. Cassian’s eyes did not leave Nesta’s; nor did hers leave his. There was no warmth, no tenderness on either of their faces. Only that raging intensity, that blend of contempt and understanding and fire. Rhys began to winnow us again, and just as the dark wind swept in, I heard Cassian say to Nesta, his voice low and rough, “The next time, Emissary, I’ll come say hello.”

Chapter 44 “You’re insane,” I breathed to Tamlin as Varian bared his teeth. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” I pointed toward Nesta. “Hybern turned my sisters into Fae—after your bitch of a priestess sold them out!” “Perhaps Ianthe’s mind was already in Rhysand’s thrall. And what a tragedy to remain young and beautiful. You’re a good actress—I’m sure the trait runs in the family.” Nesta let out a low laugh. “If you want someone to blame for all of this,” she said to Tamlin, “perhaps you should first look in the mirror.” Tamlin snarled at her. Cassian snarled right back, “Watch it.” Tamlin looked between my sister and Cassian—his gaze lingering on Cassian’s wings, tucked in behind him. Snorted. “Seems like other preferences run in the Archeron family, too.”

Chapter 45 Rhys lifted a brow. “Your staggering generosity aside, will you be joining our forces?” “I have not yet decided.” Eris went so far as to give his father a look bordering on reproach. From genuine alarm or for what that refusal might mean for our own covert alliance, I couldn’t tell. “Armies take time to raise,” Cassian said. “You don’t have the luxury of sitting on your ass. You need to rally your soldiers now.” Beron only sneered. “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.” My heartbeat was so wild I could hear it in every corner of my body, feel it pounding in my arms, my gut. But it was nothing compared to the wrath on Cassian’s face—or the icy rage on Azriel’s and Rhys’s. And the disgust on Mor’s. “That bastard,” Nesta said with utter coolness, though her eyes began to burn, “may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people.” She didn’t so much as look at Cassian as she said it. But he stared at her—as if he’d never seen her before.

Chapter 47 Helion paused his debating the wall to survey her carefully, as he had done earlier. Spell-Cleaver. That was his title. She surveyed him with her usual disdain. But Helion gave her the same bow he’d offered me—though his smile was edged with enough sensuality that even my heart raced a bit. No wonder the Lady of Autumn hadn’t stood a chance. “I don’t think we were introduced properly earlier,” he crooned to Nesta. “I’m—” “I don’t care,” Nesta said with a snap of her wrist, striding right past him and up to my side. “I’d like a word,” she said. “Now.” Cassian was biting his knuckle to keep from laughing—at the utter surprise and shock on Helion’s face. It wasn’t every day, I supposed, that anyone of either sex dismissed him so thoroughly. I threw the High Lord a semi-apologetic glance and led my sister out of the room. “What is it?” I asked when Nesta and I had entered her bedroom, the space bedecked in pink silk and gold, accents of ivory scattered throughout. The lavishness of it indeed put our various homes to shame. “We need to leave,” Nesta said. “Right now.” Every sense went on alert. “Why?” “It feels wrong. Something feels wrong.” I studied her, the clear sky beyond the towering, drape-framed windows. “Rhys and the others would sense it. You’re likely just picking up on all the power gathered here.” “Something is wrong,” Nesta insisted. “I’m not doubting you feel that way but … If none of the others are picking it up—” “I am not like the others.” Her throat bobbed. “We need to leave.” “I can send you back to Velaris, but we have things to discuss here—” “I don’t care about me, I—” The door opened, and Cassian stalked in, face grave. The sight of the wings, the Illyrian armor in this opulent, pink-filled room planted itself in my mind, the painting already taking form, as he said, “What’s wrong.” He studied every inch of her. As if there were nothing and no one else here, anywhere. But I said, “She senses something is off—says we need to leave right away.” I waited for the dismissal, but Cassian angled his head. “What, precisely, feels wrong?” Nesta stiffened, mouth pursing as she weighed his tone. “It feels like there’s this …dread. This sense that … that I forgot something but can’t remember what.” Cassian stared at her for a moment longer. “I’ll tell Rhys.” And he did.

Chapter 48 Nesta let out a breathy, sharp noise and surged from her chair. I lunged for her, nearly tripping over the skirts of my dress as she staggered back, a hand clutching at her chest. Another step would have taken her stumbling into the reflection pool, but Mor sprang forward, gripping her. “What’s wrong?” Mor demanded, holding my sister upright as her face contorted in what looked to be—pain. Confusion and pain. Sweat beaded on Nesta’s brow, though her face went deathly pale. “Something …” The word was cut off by a low groan. She sagged, and Mor caught her fully, scanning Nesta’s face. Cassian was instantly there, his hand at her back, teeth bared at the invisible threat.

Chapter 49 Nesta smoothed a hand down her dark dress. “What do I do now?” A purpose, I realized. Assigning her the task of finding a way to repair the holes in the wall … it had given my sister what perhaps our human lives had never granted her: a bearing. “You come with us—to Graysen’s estate, and then travel with the army. If you’re connected with the Cauldron, then we’ll need you close. Need you to tell us if it’s being wielded again.” Not quite a mission, but Nesta nodded all the same. Right as Cassian clapped Rhys on the shoulder and prowled toward us. He paused a foot away, and frowned. “Dresses aren’t good for flying, ladies.” Nesta didn’t reply. He lifted a brow. “No barking and biting today?” But Nesta didn’t rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. “I’ve never worn pants,” was all she said. I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian’s features. But he brushed it aside and drawled, “I have no doubt you’d start a riot if you did.” No reaction. Had the Cauldron— Cassian stepped in Nesta’s path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. “Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,” he breathed, “and you kill them.” He wouldn’t be coming—no, he’d be mustering the full might of the Illyrian legions. Azriel would be joining us, though. Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. “A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard— mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don’t forget that you’re stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,” he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. “And if someone gets you into a hold …” My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn’t place. Nesta surveyed the fine dagger in her hand. Then lifted her head to look at him. “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off. I studied Nesta, the dagger, her quiet, still face. “Don’t even start,” she warned me, and headed for the stairs.

Chapter 51 On and on they went, until Devlon looked over Rhys’s shoulder—to where we stood. A scowl at Mor. A frown at me—wisely subdued. Then he noticed Nesta. “What is that,” Devlon asked. Nesta merely stared at him, one hand clamping the edges of her gray cloak together at her chest. One of the other camp-lords made some sign against evil. “That,” Cassian said too quietly, “is none of your concern.” “Is she a witch.” I opened my mouth, but Nesta said flatly, “Yes.” And I watched as nine full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords flinched. “She may act like one sometimes,” Cassian clarified, “but no—she is High Fae.” “She is no more High Fae than we are,” Devlon countered.

Chapter 56 But Nesta had jolted to her feet, staring at Cassian, at the helmet he had tucked into the crook of his arm, the weapons still poking above his shoulder, in need of cleaning. His dark hair hung limp with sweat, his face was mud-splattered where even the helmet had not kept it out. But she surveyed his seven Siphons, the dim red stones. And then she said, “You’re hurt.” Rhys snapped to attention at that. Cassian’s face was grim—his eyes glassy. “It’s fine.” Even the words were laced with exhaustion. But she reached for his arm—his shield arm. Cassian seemed to hesitate, but offered it to her, tapping the Siphon atop his palm. The armor slid back a fraction over his forearm, revealing— “You know better than to walk around with an injury,” Rhys said a bit tensely. “I was busy,” Cassian said, not taking his focus off Nesta as she studied the swollen wrist. How she’d detected it through the armor … She must have read it in his eyes, his stance. I hadn’t realized she’d been observing the Illyrian general enough to notice his tells. “And it’ll be fixed by morning,” Cassian added, daring Rhys to say otherwise. But Nesta’s pale fingers gently probed his golden-brown skin, and he hissed through his teeth. “How do I fix it?” she asked. Her hair had been tied in a loose knot atop her head earlier in the day, and in the hours that we’d worked to ready and distribute supplies to the healers, through the heat and humidity, stray tendrils had come free to curl about her temple, her nape. Faint color had stained her cheeks from the sun, and her forearms, bare beneath the sleeves she’d rolled up, were flecked with mud. Cassian slowly sat on the log where she’d been perched a moment before, groaning softly—as if even that movement taxed him. “Icing it usually helps, but wrapping it will just lock it in place long enough for the sprain to repair itself—” She reached for the basket of bandages she’d been preparing, then for the pitcher at her feet. I was too tired to do anything other than watch as she washed his wrist, his hand, her own fingers gentle. Too tired to ask if she possessed the magic to heal it herself. Cassian seemed too weary to speak as well while she wrapped bandages around his wrist, only grunting to confirm if it was too tight or too loose, if it helped at all. But he watched her— didn’t take his eyes off her face, the brows bunched and lips pursed in concentration. And when she’d tied it neatly, his wrist wrapped in white, when Nesta made to pull back, Cassian gripped her fingers in his good hand. She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. Nesta did not yank her hand away. Did not open her mouth for some barbed retort. She only stared and stared at him, at the breadth of his shoulders, even more powerful in that beautiful black armor, at the strong column of his tan neck above it, his wings. And then at his hazel eyes, still riveted to her face. Cassian brushed a thumb down the back of her hand. Nesta opened her mouth at last, and I braced myself— “You’re hurt?” At the sound of Mor’s voice, Cassian snatched his hand back and pivoted toward Mor with a lazy smile. “Nothing for you to cry over, don’t worry.” Nesta dragged her stare from his face—down to her now-empty hand, her fingers still curled as if his palm lay there. Cassian didn’t look at Nesta as she rose, snatching up the pitcher, and muttered something about getting more water from inside the tent. Cassian and Mor fell into their banter, laughing and taunting each other about the battle and the ones ahead. Nesta didn’t come back out again for some time.

Chapter 56

Nesta did not flinch at the clash and din of battle. She only stared toward one blackarmored figure, leading the lines, his occasional order to push or to hold that flank barking across the battle.

Chapter 57 Nesta laid a hand against her bare, rain-slick throat. Cassian began another assault on a Hybern captain—slower this time than he’d been. Now. I had to go now—quickly. I took a step away from the outlook. My sister narrowed her brows at me. “You’re leaving?” “I’ll be back soon,” was all I said. I didn’t dare wonder how much of our army would be left when I did. By the time I strode away, Nesta had already faced the battle once more, rain plastering her hair to her head. Resuming her unending vigil of the general battling on the valley floor below.

Chapter 61 I squinted at the watery light—the very last before true dark. When my vision adjusted… Nesta stood by the nearest tent, an empty water bucket between her feet. Her hair a damp mess atop her mud-flecked head. Watching us emerge, grim-faced— “He’s fine. Healed and awake,” I said quickly. Nesta’s shoulders sagged a bit. She’d saved me the trouble of hunting her down to ask her about tracking the Cauldron. Better to do it now, with some privacy. Especially before Amren arrived. But Mor said coldly, “Shouldn’t you be refilling that bucket?” Nesta went stiff. Sized up Mor. But Mor didn’t flinch from that look. After a moment, Nesta picked up her bucket, mud caked up to her shins, and continued on, steps squelching.

Chapter 62 Nesta still didn’t move. She could not use the bathtub, she’d told me. Because the memories it dragged up— Cassian said to her, “Nothing can harm you here.” He sucked in a breath, groaning softly, and rose to his feet. Azriel tried to stop him, but Cassian brushed him off and strode for my sister’s side. He braced a hand on the desk when he at last stopped. “Nothing can harm you,” he repeated. Nesta was still looking at him when she finally shut her eyes. I shifted, and the angle allowed me to see what I hadn’t detected before. Nesta stood before the map, a fist of bones and stones clenched over it. Cassian remained at her side—his other hand on her lower back. And I marveled at the touch she allowed—marveled at it as much as I did the mudsplattered hand she held out. The concentration that settled over her face. Her eyes shifted beneath their lids, as if scanning the world. “I don’t see anything.” “Go deeper,” Amren urged. “Find that tether between you.” She stiffened, but Cassian stepped closer, and she settled again. A minute went by. Then another. A muscle twitched on Nesta’s brow. Her hand bobbed. Her breath then came fast and hard, her lips curling back as she panted through her teeth. “Nesta,” Cassian warned.

Chapter 63 Cassian chuckled hoarsely, and looked to Nesta, who remained pale and quiet. What she’d seen, what I’d seen in her mind… The size of that army… “Eat or bed?” Cassian had asked Nesta, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as some invitation. I debated telling him he was in no shape. Nesta only said, “Bed.” And there was certainly no invitation in the exhausted reply.

Chapter 64 “We’ll get her back,” Cassian rasped from where he perched on the rolled arm of the chaise longue across the small sitting area, watching her carefully. Rhys, Amren, and Mor were meeting with the other High Lords, informing them what had been done. Seeing if they knew anything. Had any way of helping. Nesta lowered her hands, lifting her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, lips thin. “No, you will not.” She pointed to the map on the table. “I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no chance of any of you getting into its heart. Even you,” she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. “Especially not when you’re injured.”

Chapter 66 “Good,” Cassian said, glancing at Nesta. “If I end my life defending those who need it most, then I will consider it a death well spent.” Lord Devlon, for once, nodded his approval. I wondered if Cassian noticed it—if he cared. His face revealed nothing, not as his focus remained wholly on my sister.

Chapter 69 During the brief midday break in a large meadow, Nesta and I climbed inside one of the supply caravan’s covered wagons to change into Illyrian fighting leathers. When we emerged, Nesta even buckled a knife at her side. Cassian had insisted, yet he’d admitted that since she was untrained, she was just as likely to hurt herself as she was to hurt someone else.

Chapter 70 Nesta pushed herself onto her elbows, hair shaking free of her braid, lips bloodless. She heaved into the grass. Rhys’s magic shot out of him, arcing around our entire army, his breathing a wet rasp— Nesta’s hands grappled into the grass as she lifted her head, scanning the horizon. Like she could see right to where the Cauldron was now about to be unleashed. Rhys’s power flowed and flowed out of him, bracing for impact. Azriel’s Siphons flashed, a sprawling shield of cobalt locking over Rhysand’s, his breathing just as heavy as my mate’s— And then Nesta began screaming. Not in pain. But a name. Over and over. “CASSIAN.” Amren reached for her, but Nesta roared, “CASSIAN!” She scrambled to her feet, as if she’d leap into the skies. Her body lurched, and she went down, heaving again. A figure shot from the Illyrian ranks, spearing for us, flapping hard, red Siphons blazing— Nesta moaned, writhing on the ground. The earth seemed to shudder in response. No—not in response to her. In terror of the thing that erupted from Hybern’s army. I understood why the king had claimed those rocky foothills. Not to make us charge uphill if we should push them so far. But to position the Cauldron. For it was from the rocky outcropping that a battering ram of death-white light hurled for our army. Just about level with the Illyrian legion in the sky—as the Attor’s legion dropped to the earth, and ducked for cover. Leaving the Illyrians exposed. Cassian was halfway to us when the Cauldron’s blast hit the Illyrian forces. I saw him scream—but heard nothing. The force of that power… It shredded Azriel’s shield. Then Rhysand’s. And then shredded any Siphon-made ones. It hollowed out my ears and seared my face. And where a thousand soldiers had been a heartbeat before… Ashes rained down upon our foot soldiers. Nesta had known. She gaped up at me, terror and agony on her face, then scanned the sky for Cassian, who flapped in place, as if torn between coming for us and charging back to the scattering Illyrian and Peregryn ranks. She’d known where that blast was about to hit. Cassian had been right in the center of it. Or would have been, if she hadn’t called him away. Rhys was looking at her like he knew, too. Like he didn’t know whether to scold her for the guilt Cassian would no doubt feel, or thank her for saving him. Nesta’s body went stiff again, a low moan breaking from her. I felt Rhys cast out his power—a silent warning signal. The other High Lords raised shields this time, backing the one he rallied. But the Cauldron did not hit the same spot twice. And Hybern was willing to incinerate part of his own army if it meant wiping out a strength of ours. Cassian was again hurtling for us, for Nesta sprawled on the ground, as the light and unholy heat of the Cauldron were unleashed again.

Nesta had her brow in the grass as Cassian landed so hard the ground shuddered. He was reaching for her as he panted, “What is it, what—” “It’s gone quiet again,” Nesta breathed, letting Cassian haul her into a sitting position as he scanned her face. Devastation and rage lay in his own. Did he know? That she had screamed for him, knowing he’d come… That she’d done it to save him? Rhys only ordered him, “Get back in line. The soldiers need you there.” Cassian bared his teeth. “What the hell can we do against that?”

Chapter 72 Rhys made to shoot me back down to the ground, where Amren and Elain were still waiting. Nesta said, “Wait.” Rhys obeyed. Nesta stared toward that armada, toward our father fighting in it. “Use me. As bait.” I blinked at the same moment Cassian said, “No.” Nesta ignored him. “The king is probably waiting beside that Cauldron. Even if you get there, you’ll have him to contend with. Draw him out. Draw him far away. To me.” “How,” Rhys said softly. “It goes both ways,” Nesta murmured, as if my mate’s words moments before had triggered the idea. “He doesn’t know how much I took. And if … if I make it seem like I’m about to use his power … He’ll come running. Just to kill me.” “He will kill you,” Cassian snarled. Her hand clenched on his arm. “That’s—that’s where you come in.” To guard her. Protect her. To lay a trap for the king. “No,” Rhys said. Nesta snorted. “You’re not my High Lord. I may do as I wish. And since he’ll sense that you’re with me… You need to go far away, too.” Rhys said to Cassian, “I’m not letting you throw your life away for this.” I was inclined to agree. Cassian surveyed the depleted Illyrian lines, now holding strong as Azriel rallied them. “Az has control of the lines.” “I said no,” Rhys snapped. I’d never heard him use that tone with Cassian, with any of them. Cassian said steadily, “It’s the only shot we have of a diversion. Luring him away from that Cauldron.” His hands tightened on Nesta. “You gave everything, Rhys. You went through that hell for us, for fifty years.” He’d never addressed it—not fully. “You think I don’t know what happened? I know, Rhys. We all do. And we know you did it to save us, spare us.” He shook his head, sunlight glinting off that dark, winged helmet. “Let us return the favor. Let us repay the debt.” “There is no debt to repay.” Rhys’s voice broke. The sound of it cracked my heart. Cassian’s own voice broke as he said, “I never got to repay your mother—for her kindness. Let me do it this way. Let me buy you time.” “I can’t.” I wasn’t sure if in the entire history of Illyria, there had ever been such a discussion. “You can,” Cassian said gently. “You can, Rhys.” He gave a lazy grin. “Save some of the glory for the rest of us.” “Cassian—” But Cassian asked Nesta, “Do you have what you need?” Nesta nodded. “Amren showed me enough. What to do to rally the power to me.” And if Amren and I could control the Cauldron between us… That distraction they’d offer … Nesta looked down to Elain—our sister monitoring the bloodbath ahead. Then to me. She said quietly, “Tell Father—thank you.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Cassian, those gray-blue eyes bright, then they were gone.

Chapter 74 Nesta surged to her feet, staggering across the clearing, blood at her mouth from where he’d hit her, and threw herself to her knees before Cassian. “Get up,” she sobbed, hauling at his shoulder. “Get up.” He tried—and failed. “You’re too heavy,” she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armor. “I can’t—he’s coming—” “Go,” Cassian groaned. Her power had stopped hurling the king across the forest. He now stalked toward them, brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket—taking his time. Knowing she would not leave. Savoring the awaiting slaughter. Nesta gritted her teeth, trying to haul Cassian up once more. A broken sound of pain ripped from him. “Go! ” he barked at her. “I can’t,” she breathed, voice breaking. “I can’t.” The same words Rhys had given him. Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands—to cup her face. “I have no regrets in my life, but this.” His voice shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.” She didn’t stop him as he leaned up and kissed her—lightly. As much as he could manage. Cassian said softly, brushing away the tear that streaked down her face, “I will find you again in the next world—the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.” The King of Hybern stepped into that clearing, dark power wafting from his fingertips. And even the Cauldron seemed to pause in surprise—surprise or some … feeling as Nesta looked at the king with death twining around his hands, then down at Cassian. And covered Cassian’s body with her own. Cassian went still— then his hand slid over her back. Together. They’d go together. I will offer you a bargain, I said to the Cauldron. I will offer you my soul. Save them. “Romantic,” the king said, “but ill-advised.” Nesta did not move from where she shielded Cassian’s body.

Chapter 80 My sister had barely spoken, barely eaten these past few days. Had not visited Cassian in his healing bed. Still had not talked to me about what had happened.

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