#a few bites of leftover birthday cake (it dried out a bit so I didn’t have more)

[hug-them-trees]

“I hate onions shrek can go fuck himself”

- me in da group chat after eating a Taco Bell burrito I forgot to order without onions

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Push

Warnings: noncon sex, oral, mentions of violence, abuse, and death.

This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your daddy’s in business with the Sheriff but a dirty cop has not limits.

Note: This is my first Lee Bodecker fic. Obviously it’s a dark on so mind the warnings. Lee is just awful. Like what a bastard, the worst!

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

‘She said "I don't know if I've ever been good enough I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in”’

-Push, Matchbox Twenty

🚔

You traced the small crack along the lip of the plate. The dinner set your mother had been so proud of was wearing away. Everything had started to since her death. The farmhouse seemed darker, more desolate amid the sentinel pines, your father's shed more sinister though the childhood tales of what was within had long since been dispelled. The walls shuddered with each gust of late autumn air.

The house was empty but for you. Your brothers were at about their usual business, Arn and Cal at work at yard and Will in his classes, though more likely bumming cigarettes behind the church. Your father had rumbled off in his old Ford pick-up not an hour ago but hadn't given you a reason. He never did and it was better that way. Better you didn't ask questions or speak out of turn. Focus on yourself, in the work that needed to be done as the men bustled in and out of your purview.

You set the plate on the mat to dry, a soapy bubble dripped down the back as you plunged your hand back into the water. You piled the dishes one after the other, scrubbing and scouring. The clink of the thick glass painted with faded petals and the old silverware was thunderous in the chilly kitchen.

You heard an engine, quieter than your father's cantankerous truck. The gravel mulched under the tires and you grabbed a rag to dry your hands as you walked through the front door. You peeked out the window as the cruiser pulled up; the old black and white with its blue and red crown.

Sheriff Bodecker came around maybe once every two weeks. You didn't keep track, you never spoke to him. Your daddy always took him to the shed for a beer and a chat. The uniform took a cut of the profits from your father's sill. The moonshine sold better than the beer sold at the store in town but wasn't allowed on the shelves. the lawman turned his eye for a percentage and the occasional jug of the brew.

You watched the sheriff brace himself against his door and lift himself out of the car. His jacket was zipped up against the impending winter but could barely contain his stomach. He reached into his car and plopped his hat on his head before he slammed the door. His boots were just as loud as his tires as he rounded the vehicle and paced towards your daddy's shed.

He turned back, hands on his hips, and peered across the empty lot. The big blue truck always greeted visitors, not that there were many. You watched the sheriff retreat and as he neared the porch, you let go of the curtain and pressed yourself to the door.

Your brothers and your father were the only people in your life. You minded the house and spent your spare time with one of your mama's old books or a needle and thread. 

The door shook as he knocked. You blinked and slowly turned. You grabbed the handle but didn't pull. He must have known your daddy wasn't there. A fool could guess that.

He banged again and you twisted the knob. Slowly, you pulled the door open just a crack. You looked through with one eye as the sheriff felt around impatiently in his pockets.

"Daddy ain't here," you said quietly.

He tilted his head and grinned. He scoffed and ripped his hand out of his jacket.

"I guessed that. Be a shit officer if I couldn't," he snickered. "Pardon the language, miss."

"I don't know when he'll be back," you said.

"I got time," he checked his watch.

There was a moment of silence as he looked at you. You gulped, uncertain.

"Sorry, we don't get many visitors. Guess I should invite you in… I got coffee? Tea?"

He considered you through the inch between the frame and the door. "You gonna have to open up for that," he said, "you got anything sweet?"

"Some leftover cake from Arn's birthday. It's probably stale." You answered as he placed his hand flat on the door. "It's strawberry cream."

"Mm, you make it yourself?" He asked as his other hand rested on his belt.

"Mama's recipe," you explained.

"Well,” he pushed on the door, "Can I come in then or am I eatin' on the porch?"

You stared at him and slowly stepped back as he put more weight against the door. He dropped his arm as you were flush to the wall and he stepped inside. You looked at his boots as he pulled the door from your grasp and threw it shut behind him. He chuckled as he turned to you again and looked at his feet.

“Not meaning to mess up your floors, miss,” he wiped the treads on the mat.

“It’s fine. My brothers never did care much either,” you waved away his words and retreated, “I’ll get you that cake.”

You went to the kitchen and took the glass lid of the cake dish. That was your mother’s too. The long crack up the side made you want to cry. If she could see how the life she’d left behind had become so distorted. You took a plate from the mat and dried it before you laid it out. You cut a slice from the cake and carefully angled it onto the saucer.

“Should I put the kettle on?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over a chair before he sat. The wood groaned under him. He put his hat on the table decisively.

“You got milk? I had a coffee on the way.” He sat back in the chair and spread his legs wide.

“Milk,” you repeated as you neared and set the plate on the table then grabbed a fork from the drawer. You handed him the silver then went to the fridge, “Should be enough.”

You poured him a glass and put it down beside the plate as he greedily cut a bite out of the sponge with his fork. You went back to the sink and stuck your hands in the tepid water as you fished out the last few bowls and scrubbed them one at a time. You could hear him chewing behind you as the metal hit the porcelain with each bite.

“You really don’t entertain much, do you?” He asked.

“Sheriff?” you pulled the stopped and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands.

“You know, I go ‘round folks’ houses and the wives, they smile, flip their hair, even excuse themselves to powder up,” he remarked, “And here you are doing your washing. Your back to me and everything.”

“I told my daddy I’d have ‘em done,” you shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t expecting ya.”

“I rarely announce myself to shiners,” he rolled his eyes, “Must be quite the life, hmm? You cleaning up behind four boys. You look old enough to have a man of your own to worry about.”

“Maybe,” you wrung the dish towel. 

“Most girls your age are outta their daddy’s house and settled down with a babe on their hip. Even two.” He said.

You frowned. “Well, Sheriff Bodecker, are you married?”

He squinted and tilted his head. He smirked and said ‘no’.

“You’re older than me. Maybe you’re the one who’s overdue.”

“Not too old,” he stabbed the last morsel of cake.

You turned away and grabbed a cup and wiped it dry. You went about drying each piece as he sat quietly. You sensed his gaze as you put away the dishes. The tension mounted as you snapped shut the cupboard and he tapped the plate with the fork.

You were relieved when you heard the gravel crunching outside. Your daddy was back. The putter of his old truck was a welcoming sound.

“That should be him,” you said as you went to the table and picked up his plate. 

He set the fork atop it and grabbed your wrist before you could back away. “You take good care of a man.”

You swallowed and resisted the urge to pull away. “Not too many men can take care of themselves,” you uttered.

He laughed and let you go. He stood and you quickly scurried away to dump the plate in the sink. “Probably right,” he said as he took his jacket and pulled it on, “Definitely not in the ways a woman can take care of a man.”

You turned the faucet as the front door clattered. “Sherriff?” You father called down the hall, “You in here?”

“Here, Rhett,” He flipped his hat on and winked at you, “Son of a bitch, I’ve been waiting long enough.”

🚔

There was a cluster of brambles deep in the woods. A carpet of red, orange, and yellow leaves slowly wilted to brown beneath your feet as you climbed through the brush. You clutched your basket in one hand, your fingers cold even inside your gloves as the winter crept nearer with each day. 

You were the old scarf with the uneven edges. The first one you knitted yourself after your mama had shown you how. Your fleece jacket was hand-me-down from Cal, the sleeves were too long and it puffed out from your body when you zipped it, an old oil stain along the left side. Your skirt, your own creation from two of your mama’s, hung to your knees, your stocking barely thick enough to keep out the chill. The heel of your right boot flopped as it threatened to fall off entirely and made the trek all the more treacherous.

You tossed walnuts into your basket every now and then if they weren’t crushed or caked in mud. The trees muffled all noise the deeper you got and the trees loomed darker above. You stopped at the overgrowth of leaves and vines. Blackberries and raspberries hung plump in the last harvest of the season. You preferred the wild berries to the grocers; they were larger and juicier.

You set down your basket as you pushed through the sharp, thin branches and began to pick. You knelt to grab those hidden at the bottom, dumping handfuls atop your collection of walnuts.

You heard a rustle behind you. Subtle, soft. More likely a deer than a bear. You peeked over your shoulder but didn’t give much heed to the disturbance. There was always some creature flitting around in the forest. You tuned back to your work, your gloves dappled with the dark juices of the berries as some were so soft the burst on touch.

The bushes behind you shook and a twig snapped.

“What you doing out here all alone? I thought you were a bear.”

You stood as you recognized the voice. You dropped the berries in your hand into the basket before you turned and clapped off your gloves. “I thought the same of you.” You blanched as you saw his gun in hand. “You hunting out here with that?”

Sheriff Bodecker looked down at his pistol and scoffed. “Maybe,” he looked up as he kept his gun in hand, “How you know about these berries?”

“They’re wild. There for the taking,” you turned back and pushed through the brambles as you plucked berries from the bunch, “Mama used to take us here when we we’re kids.”

“You lookin’ to make another cake?” His boots crushed the leaves and sticks as he neared.

“Conserves; jams,” you answered bluntly as your basket filled with each handful. “Too bad strawberries are all gone for the season.”

You sensed him watching you as you stooped again. He reached down to your basket and took a raspberry. He popped it in his mouth as he straightened. You glanced over, his gun was pointed at the ground but still in hand. He knocked it gently against his leg as if thinking.

“Tart,” he said, “I prefer strawberry. Sweeter.”

“Mmm,” you grumbled as you dug through the bush, “Well, they charge too much down at the grocer for ‘em.”

It was quiet but for you pushing past the bramble and filling your basket. You could hear him breathing above you as he watched, transfixed by your simple ritual.

“Never told me why you’re all the way out here,” you said as you contented yourself with your haul. “Should I be worried? Some criminal out here hiding in the branches?”

“Sitting by the river on my break, as I do,” he shrugged as you lifted your basket. “It’s a far way back to your daddies. My cruiser’s closer. I can take you home.”

“I prefer the walk. Gives me an excuse to be away.” You smiled and made to step past him.

“We can take our time,” he caught your arm.

“Thank you, Sheriff, but I can find my own way back.”

He turned you to him and raised his gun. His eyes searched your face as he pressed the muzzle to your cheek.

“Ain’t much on the first look but after a while, you’re not so bad,” he said as you stiffened, “If you didn’t dress like a matron, you might even be pretty.” His gun fell to the collar of the jacket. “Usually men don’t offer favours to girls who ain’t pretty.”

“Let go of me,” you pleaded softly, “Sheriff…”

He pointed his gun skyward and released you. He holstered the pistol and laughed to himself.

“You go on lift up that skirt and give me a good look. Then I’ll drive you back to your daddy’s. You have my word as an officer of the law.”

“Pardon--”

“Shhh,” his hand lingered on the pistol, playing with the little strap that would snap it into place, “No one needs to know. Just a peek.”

“Sheriff--”

“Girl,” he cleared his throat, “Ya gonna do what I tell you or I’m gonna make you do worse. Now go on.”

He snatched the basket out of your hand and you let out your breath, relieved at least that he no longer had his fingers on his pistol.

“It’s cold out--”

“You argue with your daddy this much? He don’t seem the type to bide it and let me tell you, he seems a lot more tolerant than me.” He took another berry and chewed it, “So lift your skirt and we’ll be on our way.”

You stared at him. He smirked and licked the dark juice away from his lip. You hands shook as you bent and clumsily felt your skirt. You gathered the hem and stood. You bunched up the fabric around the bottom of the coat and he tutted in satisfaction.

“Turn around for me, girl,” he softly swung the basket, “Bend over so I can get a nice look at you.”

“Sher--”

“I really don’t wanna knock ya around and you don’t want that either,” he warned. “Two seconds. That’s all it will take.”

You gulped as bile burned your throat. You turned, careful not to catch the loose heel of your boot, and held your breath. You bent forward slowly.

“Further,” he ordered. The thin cotton of your underwear stretched across your ass. “Well, you got a much nicer backside than I expected.”

You let out a sharp breath as he pinched your ass and you stood suddenly. You stumbled forward and dropped your skirts. He laughed as you spun to face him. He shoved the basket against your chest. 

“See how easy that was,” he leered at you as you took the basket. “Who you hidin’ that body from? Maybe your daddy’s a selfish man, hmmm? Keeping you from all the men.”

“Can we go?” You muttered as you tried to hide behind the basket.

His blue eyes bore into yours and he shifted on his feet. His hand rubbed the front of his pants as he side stepped you.

“Sure, cruisers ‘round the bend.” He waved you past him and waited. “Come on, you said you wanted to go.”

You walked past him along the trail and he followed, close as his loud breaths filled the air. He pointed you down the path with curt orders and you came into sight of the broad river. His car was parked just off the sideroad that led back to the town. 

His keys jingled as he brushed by you, dragging his hand across your rear as he did. He opened the passenger door and looked at you. You neared and quickly got in, sitting on the long seat within. He closed the door harshly and rounded to the other side. The car dipped with his weight and he shoved the keys in the slot.

“Come here,” he gestured with two fingers, “Closer.”

“What?”

“Put the berries down,” he pointed to the other side of you and you placed the basket on the seat.

“I should be home sooner than later. I gotta start cooking--”

“I’ll get you there,” he grabbed your arm and slid you over the seat. He flipped his hat off and dropped it over the basket. He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Go on, put me in first.”

He gripped the wheel with his other hand and you blinked dumbly. You realised what he meant and pushed the shifted into gear.

“You cold? You’re shivering,” He said as he carefully turned the car, “Just tryna warm you up, girl.”

“I’m fine,” you crossed your arms as he drove at a snail's pace up the dirt road.

“I’m cold,” he gave an exaggerated ‘brrr’, “Do me a favour. Unzip me.”

“What?” You tried to pull away and he bent his arm around your neck, his hand along your chest as your head was nearly on his.

“I’m hard as fuck. You did that. Now take care of it.” He growled. “Get these damn pant unzipped and finish it.”

“Let go--”

“You don’t start listening and I’ll tell you’re daddy what a whore you are. Up in the woods flaunting your ass to the wind.”

You stared down at your stitched skirt. Your mama’s. You only wore her clothes. They were modest. You’d once worn a dress your friend Laverne had given you, more modern, with a shorter skirt. Your daddy belted you until it was ruined.

Your hands trembled as you felt along the Sheriff’s stomach and fumbled beneath. You unbuckled his belt clumsily and found his fly ready to burst. You pushed his zipper down as he groaned and he lifted his arm over the seat. His underwear was tight to his bulging cock.

“Now don’t keep wastin’ my time and take me out,” he snarled.

You pulled the elastic down and he popped out above it. You hesitated as you stared at his throbbing tip.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” You confessed.

“Christ, girl,” he snickered, “Grab it and just… move your hand.”

You shuddered and wrapped your fingers around his cock. It was as thick as the rest of him. You gripped it but still had no idea what to do next.

“Up and down. Like your polishing a shotgun,” he urged, “A nice long barrel.” You bit down and slid your hand along his length. “Tighter,” he gritted through his teeth, “Faster…”

He purred as you played with him. He drove a little faster and steered with one hand as his other hand clawed the back of the seat.

“Fuckin’ don’t know, girl, feels like you know exactly what to you,” he uttered, “Got me close already.”

You stared at the middle of the steering wheel, the silver emblem, and tried not to think about what you were doing. His hand fell to your back and he caressed the back of your coat. He grasped the cloth in his fist as his grunts grew louder and longer.

“Grab that coffee cup,” he demanded, “Go on, you don’t wanna make a mess.”

You took the cup with one hand and popped the top off with your thumb. It flew onto the floor and he hummed.

“Hold it at the tip, before--” He choked on his words and you quickly moved the cup. 

He hit the brake and white ribbons streamed from his cock and laced the rim of the cup and your fingers. White globs slid down the paper and you slowed as a chill went through you. You pulled away your slimy hand and the cup. He took the latter and tossed it out the window and sighed.

“Shit, girl, that was good,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped his glistening cock before covering himself up and zipping up his pants. “Get cleaned up.” He tossed the cloth on your lap, “Not far from home, now.”

🚔

Your days passed like molasses. Ever since your venture into the forest, your life slowed to an interminable pace. Your thoughts were darkened by the sheriff’s shadow. You scrubbed, scoured, and swept but could not rid yourself of the memory. The scene played over and over in your head. You swore you could feel him still spread across the palm of your hand.

A week after, when he drove up behind the boys on their return from town, you watched through the window in dread. Cal, Arn, and Will hopped out of the truck and greeted the sheriff. The four of them went to the shed where your daddy was, the latter peeked over at the house as he passed.

You were reassured that your brothers were there. The sheriff wouldn’t, really couldn’t, try anything more. You went back to basting the thick chops. As you made to cap your homemade sauce, the back door opened and your daddy looked in from the mud room.

“You bring out some glasses for the lot of us. And put an extra chop on for the sheriff,” your father slurred. He’d already started drinking. “He be joining us tonight.”

He left before you could respond. He usually drank his swill out of old jars and saved your mother’s dishes. You coated another chop in spice and set it with the rest before slipping them in the oven. You washed your hands and counted out five glasses. You hugged them in your arms and stepped into your boots. 

You pushed the screen door open with your elbow and tramped down the steps. You crossed to the shed and kicked the door with your boot. “Daddy,” you called through the wood.

Will slid open the shed door and you stepped inside. You went to the table and placed the glasses down on the old chipped surface. You stood and looked around. Your father filled each with the clear shine from a large jar.

“Isn’t he a bit young?” You said as Will sat back down.

“Not your business, woman,” your daddy spat, “Go back in the house. To your business.”

“Yes, daddy.” You sniffed and looked at Will. He gave an apologetic smile but none of your brothers ever stood up against your daddy.

“Lady not joining us?” Bodecker asked.

“Ha, that girl gets a whiff of this stuff and she’d be on her back. This ain’t no drink for ladies,” your daddy chortled. “About time you tried it. What you been doin’ will all that swill I give ya.”

“Boys at the station like it. I think they’re some of your best customers, ain’t they?” Bodecker countered. “Besides, I been tryna stay clear of the drink.”

“One night won’t hurt,” your daddy coaxed.

You went back to the door and slid it shut behind you as the men continued to chatter. Well, they would at least drink themselves too senseless to bother you much.

🚔

You cleared the table of the empty plates and scraps left by the drunken men. They had been loud and raucous, so much so you’d eaten your dinner at the counter to avoid them. When they finished, they left in a stumble, though the sheriff seemed as steady as ever as he trailed behind. He stopped at the door as he held it and peered back from the mud room at you.

You washed the dishes and put them away. You wiped down the table and fixed the chairs around it. The night was moonless and eerie. The wind wailed and shook each window and door in the house as it seemed to blow right through the walls.

The mud room door clattered again. It had been over an hour since the men returned to the shed. Their voices no longer carried in the air but the shed remained alight from within. You turned as Bodecker closed the door. He carried a tall glass of swill as he stopped in the door frame.

“Lightweights,” he said, “All your men passed out. Think one of ‘em pissed in their pants.”

“You’re drunk,” you said as you kept behind the table.

“Not really. I couldn’t finish mine,” he crossed to the other side of the table and set down the glass, “Why don’t you finish it for me?”

“I don’t drink that stuff,” you said, “Dump it out on the grass.”

“You work so hard. You should have a little fun,” he rounded the table and slid the glass across it as he neared, “Come on. Have a drink.”

“I don’t--” He grabbed you suddenly, wrestled you down into a chair and held you there by your shoulders.

He lifted one hand and felt around his belt. He flicked his holster open and rubbed the pistol with his thumb. 

“Drink it.” You watched his hand on his gun. He slid it out just a little. “Ugly things men do when they drinking. “Playing with guns… sometimes don’t always end up so fun. Don’t think the young one would make it in the hold.”

“No, you--”

“Drink,” he sneered. “It’ll loosen you up.”

You reached for the glass and he nodded. He snapped his holster closed and pulled a chair over to sit in front of you. You put your lips to the edge of the glass and the alcohol stung your nostrils. You tipped it, slowly, and tasted it with a gag. It was vile, stringent, and fiery. He pushed it up with two fingers until you were choking on it. He didn’t let up until the glass was empty and the shine dripped down your chin.

You slammed the glass down and coughed. You touched your throat as your head spun and a warmth nestled in your cheeks. You tried to shake away the haze that washed over you.

“That’s it, girl,” he purred as he leaned forward, “You feel better, don’t you?”

“N-no,” you stammered as you gripped the chair.

“’Daddy’,” he said, “Girl, you had me hard in there… you too old to be callin’ that man, daddy.” He stood and shrugged off his leather jacket, “But you be right to call me daddy.”

“I don’t feel…” Your stomach burned and you tried to stand. You stumbled and he caught you.

“Don’t you get all jumpy on me, girl,” he sat you back down. “You gonna hurt yourself.”

You slumped in the chair and braced your head. You felt terribly dizzy and your inside were alight. You heard a jingle and looked up as Bodecker unzipped his pants. You recalled the day in the car and filled with panic. You stood again and this time staggered, falling onto your knees with a cry.

“Mmm, it’s okay, girl, you can stay down there,” You looked up as he pulled his cock out through the vee of his pants, “Come here.” He grabbed your chin and yanked you forward, “Open up.”

You snapped your mouth shut and tried to wriggle free of his grasp. His other hand came up behind your head and he pulled you close. His fingers spread across your head and he used his other hand to poke his cock against your lips.

“I’ll break that pretty little jaw of yours and tell your pa he did it,” he growled, “Now come on.” You shook your head and he slapped you, hard. He seized you again. “Open!”

Your mouth fell open and your vision blurred as he shoved his cock inside. He forced himself down your throat and you kicked your feet as you grabbed at the front of his pants. He groaned and held his cock at its limit.

“And I thought you were good with your hands,” he pulled back and thrust back in. Your eyes rolled back as they teared up and you choked. “Mmm, much better.”

He started slow at first, though each tilt of his hips was relentless, deep and painful. You struggled to breathe around him and it only seemed to feed his lust. He gripped your head between his hand as he fucked your mouth, the sloppy sounds made your head swim as the slobber leaked down your chin and his shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled out of you suddenly and shoved you away. You fell back onto your ass and wiped your mouth. “You tryna end this night early or something.”

He let out a breath and watched his cock bob before him as he grunted.

“Get up and get your drawers off.” He ordered, “Then I want you like you was in the woods, huh? Skirt up.”

You wavered as you tried to climb to your feet. He caught your errant arm and pulled you up. He spun you and you swayed. He bent and his hands crawled up your skirt as he felt around. He ripped your underwear down and let them rest at your ankles. He turned you to the chair and pushed you forward. You fell and caught yourself against the seat. He threw your skirt up and bared your ass.

Your legs quaked as he pressed his hand between your legs and felt around. He rubbed your cunt as you squeezed him with your thighs. He pinched you and drew away.

“You don’t wanna make this harder than it needs to be girl,” he sneered, “You’re in no state for that.”

He stepped closer and bent over you. His arm wrapped around your middle as he felt around below you with his other hand. He caught the tip of his cock and guided it to your cunt. He pushed it along your folds, sliding it up and down until he found your entrance. You whimpered and pushed back against him, too weak to break free.

“You fight and it’ll hurt more,” he grunted as he pushed his tip into you and you yelped. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Another inch and he stopped as he took a breath, “Holy hell, girl, you really weren’t lying. You ain’t been touched.” 

He growled and inhaled the scent of your hair as his hand gripped the chair next to yours. He thrust into you in a single tilt and you exclaimed as he stretched your walls. You reached to the back of the chair and latched onto the crossbar as you tried not to sob.

He stood, slowly and pushed deeper into you as he grabbed your hip. His other hand kneaded your ass as he began to rock. His groans were as steady as his motion as he dipped in and out of you. He curled his fingers and dug his nails into your flesh as he panted, his stomach bouncing against your ass.

“Be as loud as you want, girl,” he barked, “No one gonna hear you.”

He rutted into as the chair shifted below you. He kept a hand on your hip as his other trailed up to your shoulder and he arched your back. His zipper bit into your flesh as he sped up, slapping against you harder and harder as you whined louder and louder. It hurt terribly and your entire being thrummed with an unknown sensation. 

You closed your eyes as your vision swirled and your arms shook. He pulled you back so you stood against him, your back curved as he hammered into you. You were on tiptoes as he didn’t let up and turned you against the table. Your fingertips brushed the top as you reached out blindly and his hand stretched across your neck as he forced your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum, girl,” he hissed, “You fucking whore. You’re going to make me cu--”

He grunted and his hips spasmed as a warmth seeped into you. He gave several, final snaps of his hip and slowed. He fell forward with you bent beneath him against the table. Your legs were limp as he crushed you with his weight. His heart pounded through his chest and he gasped for breath. 

You sniffed and pushed back against him. You were suffocating. You needed him off of you. You needed him out of you. 

“We ain’t done yet,” he hooked his arm around you and pulled you back to sit on his lap as he fell into the chair. “You got two minutes to get me hard again or you can clean me up with your mouth.”

[a-vintage-snake]

9. In All My Dreams I Drown

Pairing(s): Pre-romantic Dukeceit

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Implied child abuse, vomiting, dirty humor, basically Remus is Very Thirsty™ for that Snake Booty Characters: Janus “Deceit” Sanders, Remus Sanders

Summary: It is time for Remus’ first magic lessons

Word Count: 10213

Author’s Note: Heeeey there... Been a while, huh? Sorry if this took so long, I had to take a mental health break from writing for a while. But the good news is that I joined NaNoWriMo! I didn't hit 50k unfortunately, but I did hit nearly 30k! Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend​, @hekking-happy-nonsense, @lockmcduckwoodchuck

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

He was floating.

Remus wasn’t sure how, but it didn’t matter. He felt light as a feather, a drowsy grin stretching on his face. His gaze idly, unhurriedly, moved up. Stars and galaxies twinkled above him; shining in a symphony of colours that made him half-heartedly wish he had his sketchbook with him. Their light was filtered however… As if he was looking at them from underwater. Was he in the ocean? How was he even breathing?

Remus leaned back against his partner, and all those silly questions left his head. The man behind him was the only solid thing in this floaty, tranquil world of his, and the only thing that mattered right now. Hands ran down Remus’ body, lazily exploring his skin. They traced down his back in small circles, before sliding up and pulling through his hair, making him almost purr in contentment.

“Aren’t you a lovely thing, my little prince.” A voice amusedly crooned into his ear. It was not just a voice. It was without a doubt the loveliest voice Remus had ever heard, and he would never tire of listening to it.

“I’m your lovely thing.” Remus answered with a grin.

“Are you now? Does that mean…” Remus felt a playful bite in his neck, scales dragging along his skin. “You want to stay with me?”

“Yes…” Remus answered in a haze.

“Will you be loyal to me?”

“Yes…”

“Will you help me?”

“Yes…” Remus moaned. “Yes.”

Abruptly the man behind him disappeared and Remus fell. He shouted in surprise as gravity suddenly had its hold back on him as he crashed hard into the painfully solid ground beneath him. Bewildered, he sat up and looked around. The stars above his head died away, one by one. Until he was left in pitch-black darkness.

“Worthless traitor.” A chorus of new voices echoed, the sheer disgust in them making Remus’ stomach turn.

“No! I’m not-! I don’t-!”

“Turn your back on us, after all that we have done for you.”

“You’ve done NOTHING for me!” Remus screamed as he shuffled back. “You deserve what’s coming for you!

“Deserve?” The voices laughed coldly. “You know what you deserve?”

A harsh wind knocked Remus back onto his back.

“You deserve to be punished.”

No! Anything but that! He tried to stand and run, but painfully bumped his head into a sudden low ceiling. He crumpled to the ground, nursing his aching head. The groaning sound of wood and stone surrounded him, deafening him.

The walls-! The walls were closing in!

“No… No!! NO!!” Remus screamed as the room became smaller and smaller, pushing onto him until they were squishing him down. It didn’t stop him from kicking and banging at the unyielding walls, his arms and legs barely able to move in the space that kept getting smaller and smaller. Even as he screamed as hard as he could, he could feel the air becoming thinner and thinner. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe-!!

Then he heard it. The sound he always dreaded. A lock falling into place and a key being turned.

“That is what you deserve.” The cold chorus of disgusted voices said from beyond the walls.

“NO!! PLEASE NO!! LET ME OUT, PLEASE LET ME OUT I WON’T THINK I WON’T SPEAK!!” Remus banged and pounded as the walls pressed in, slowly suffocating him. “JUST LET ME OUT PLEASE!!”

“PLEASE!!” Remus screamed as he rolled over, fighting against the hold the walls had on him. Funnily enough, now they seemed to yield a little easier. They felt a lot softer too. They were white. They were… Sheets?

Panting Remus sat up and looked around wildly. Rough stonewalls, large windows showing mountaintops and a sky slowly turning bright, a small desk and a fireplace… This was not his room-! Where the FUCK was he-??

-Lovely mismatched eyes, looking at him like he was a puzzle he wasn’t quite sure how to solve yet-

Slowly Remus’ breath evened. Oh. Right. Not a hopeful fantasy then. The last few days actually happened.

“Stupid fucking dream…” Remus muttered, trying to free his arms from their cotton prison. Fuck it, the dream had started out so nice too! The ghost memory of the hands in his hair made him sigh. Couldn’t that part just have continued for a little while?

As he sat up and tried to shake away the lingering dread the dream had caused, he looked around his chambers. Heh, funny how his actual life had become more dreamlike in just three days. It was almost impossible to believe!

…Unless he was still dreaming?

He pinched his arm. Nope, definitely awake, and still in the castle of a legendary warlock, who somehow seemed to tolerate his company enough to let him stay here.

…Not only that, he remembered. He was going to be taught magic.

Instantly erasing any leftover terror the dream had caused, Remus grinned widely.

“WOOO!!” He yelled, throwing himself back onto the very soft bed. He rolled around giggling wildly. It got him tangled in the sheets even further, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t hold in all the sheer excitement even if he wanted to try. Him! Him, learning magic!! Remus, the wizard! Remus, the sorcerer! Perhaps some day even… Remus the warlock!

Finally slowing to a halt Remus stared up at the ceiling for a while, his mind reeling with the options of what could happen today. Would he be taught how to do light illusions, just like he had seen on his ninth birthday? Or would he make potions like Virgil did? Perhaps he would be taught how to summon fire!

And let’s not forget just exactly who would be doing the teaching... Remus bit his bottom lip, excited anticipation making him squirm in his place. He had never understood people who had Sexy Teacher fantasies, but oooooh man did he get them now. It would just be the two of them, literal magic in the air… The idea alone made his heart flutter. Ugh, gross, his heart fluttered. Was this how Roman felt whenever he saw Patty-cakes? How did he ever get anything done?

Finally untangling himself from his sheets, Remus jumped out of bed and sprinted towards his luxurious bathroom with an eagerness he hadn’t felt in, well… Ever. He washed and dressed himself hurriedly.

“Right,” He said to his reflection. “Rough start yesterday! But it doesn’t matter! I can still turn this around!”

Can you though? The voice of reason chimed in. Oh wow, he was early today.

“Yes I can! I just need to make sure to act like Roman, and everything will work out just fine!”

Your disillusions could almost be called cute, if they weren’t so damn pathetic.

“Whatever,” Remus dismissed, ignoring the swirl of uncertainty in his stomach. “I just have to channel my inner Roman! I gotta think like Roman!” He placed his fingers at his temples. “Become the Roman! Right! What does Roman like??” He slapped his cheeks. “What. Does. Roman. Like?”

Remus wracked his brain for a few minutes, staring at his reflection with all the concentration of a child trying to win a staring contest.

“…Horse riding!” He eventually blurted. “Chubby men! The latest fashion trends! Boring dinners! What’s that? Why, I certainly want to kiss that ugly ass baby of yours! Just as long as it doesn’t drool on my ivory jacket! No, it’s not white, it’s ivory, you uncivilized peasant! Oh, let me just flip my luscious locks in this non-existent breeze as I trot towards the dance floor!”

Satisfied Remus nodded at himself. Oh yeah. He had this in the bag.

Leaving his chambers Remus took off towards the dining room. It had taken him a couple of hours yesterday, but eventually he had found his bedchambers again, where a small lunch was waiting for him. He had taken the rest of the day to map out the route between his bedchambers and the dining room until he was confident he could find it without too much trouble. Honestly, this place was a goddamn maze.

In the end he took only one wrong turn before he found the dining room again. The warlock wasn’t there yet. Remus shrugged off his disappointment as he took the same seat as he did the day before. He supposed he was too early anyway. The sober food hadn’t changed; they were still the same plates filled with fruits, dark bread and dried fish. Not exactly a varied diet in this castle, heh?

No matter. Remus' stomach growled anyhow. He already reached out to fill his plate, but paused midway. Uncertainly his hand hovered over the food. Was he… Allowed to eat now? His host hadn’t arrived yet… What if he accidentally insulted him by not waiting for him?

He shook his head. It was not worth the potential reprimand if he did eat. So Remus sat back and waited.

And waited.

Remus wiggled in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table. Boredom quickly took over. Fuck, he shouldn’t have arrived this early. Now what was he supposed to do?

He eyed the spare firewood for a second, but the dinner knife turned out to be too dull for whittling. He really missed his sketchbook by now. Why oh why hadn’t he brought it on his quest with him?

With nothing else to do Remus let his head fall back against the chair and started to tap out a little tune on the table. He hummed lowly, little no nonsense lyrics floating to his brain as he experimented with the melody.

“Went to the mountains today,” He sang to himself. “Went to the mountains and expected to slay… Little did I know that I would stay, oooh that I would stay…”

Really getting into it, Remus gently started tapping a knife against his glass alongside his other hand that still tapped the table, creating a whole new melody.

“Went to the mountains to find my destiny,” He now rocked back and forth in his chair. “How could I know that instead destiny would find me?”

“Very lovely.” A voice commented. Remus jumped in his chair with a shout, knocking over his glass. His heart beat a mile a minute as he turned to the right, finding the warlock sitting in the opposite chair, looking as hot as ever. Eris was once more wrapped around his shoulders, and the cobra glowered suspiciously at him.

“An original?” Deceit asked with a half smirk.

“Uuh, yeah,” Remus nodded as he looked between Deceit and the door, which he confirmed with a quick glance was still closed. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack or is scaring people shitless just a hobby of yours?”

Fuck, Remus cringed, that was too forward, wasn’t it? Too Remus, not enough Roman. Luckily the warlock only shrugged.

“Nothing like a little scare in the morning to get the blood pumping, as I totally always say,” Deceit grabbed an apple from the fruit plate. “Don’t you agree?”

Remus quickly nodded. He would agree with anything as long as the warlock just kept talking in that velvety voice. Somehow he kept forgetting just how brain meltingly gorgeous it was.

“You’re quite early.” The warlock said as he rubbed the apple against his sleeve. “Bad night or just eager to start the day?”

“Eager to start the day!” Remus beamed, cheerfully ignoring his dream from last night. “I am ready to do some magic!” Enthusiastically he started piling his plate full. “Let me just eat something real quick and then I’m ready-!”

“You haven’t eaten yet?” The warlock frowned.

Remus halted. “No…?” He said uncertainly.

“Why ever not?”

“I… Uhh…” Remus fidgeted. “I wasn’t sure if it was… Allowed?”

“Allowed? Oh stars above…”

Remus cringed. He did something wrong. Already. For fuck’s sake, the day hadn’t even started yet!

Obviously. What did you expect?

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly.

“No, you don’t need to-! Remus, understand this,” The warlock’s voice lost all its teasing quality. “You are completely free to do whatever you need to make yourself at home here. You don’t need my permission to eat, drink or otherwise make yourself comfortable. I mean, goodness,” The warlock huffed a laugh as he lifted the apple to his lips. “Next you’ll ask me to bathe you.”

Remus quickly shoved a forkful of fish in his mouth before he could moan out ‘Oh, please do’. The salty flavour sobered him up enough to not let any delightful bathing fantasies grab his attention for too long. Chewing like his sanity depended on it Remus quickly shoved a few more bites into his mouth, looking to his right to show that yes! He was eating now! Only to find that the warlock paid him no mind, focusing on his own food instead. Deceit’s fangs glistened in the light of the fire as he finally sunk his teeth into the apple, breaking the skin and taking a bite. A drop of juice gathered at the corner of his mouth, and he absentmindedly licked it away. Did Remus’ eyes fool him, or had it been a split tongue he had gotten a brief flash of?

Remus had to gulp and swallow his food, even though it was too big of a mouthful to go down comfortably. This was unfair; this was so unfair! No one was allowed to be this hot while just eating a fucking apple, of all things.

He wanted to lean forward and kiss him breathless. He wanted to taste the sweetness of the apple on his tongue. He wanted those fangs to bite his bottom lip, a low growl emitting from the warlock. He wanted to pull back, look in those mismatched eyes and hear him say-

“You’re stabbing your face with a fork.”

Remus blinked, the images disappearing, leaving him with the very real warlock giving him a weird look. “Wha…?” He asked dumbly.

“The fork you’re currently stabbing in your own face?” Deceit repeated deadpan, and now Remus finally noticed the pricking sensation in his cheek. He floundered, almost dropping the utensil as he quickly threw the fork over his shoulder.

“I do that! Sometimes!” Remus fumbled as the fork landed behind him with a ting. “Part of my, uuuhm…” Shit, shit! Quick! What would Roman say, what would Roman say??

“…Skin care routine?”

Somewhere, somehow, Remus’ inner Roman started crying.

“Ah, of course!” Deceit said. “How silly of me, to just forget the single most important step of every skincare routine!”

“HAhahahha, yeaaah…” Remus choked. “So silly!”

“Well then,” The warlock dropped the half eaten apple on his plate. “If you’re finished with eating and your, ahem- skin care routine,” Deceit rose from his chair. “How about we get started?”

--

“What are we going to do first??” Remus asked, barely able to keep himself from hopping up and down as he followed the warlock through the castle’s halls. “Fire from my hands?? Light illusions?? Holy shit, am I going to learn how to teleport??”

Eris gave him a disapproving glare, but the warlock only chuckled. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, we’re going to start with something different.”

“Oh.” Remus shoulders sagged. “Like what?”

Deceit threw him an amused look over his shoulder. “Like some beginners lessons, perhaps?”

“Aaaw…”

“No need to sound so disappointed! We’ll get where you want eventually.”

“Tomorrow?” Remus hopefully asked.

“No.”

“Aaaw!”

“Honestly,” The warlock laughed and stopped in his tracks to turn to him. “Do you expect to become an expert at everything you do within a day?”

“No, but I would sure as hell would like to!”

“Don’t we all…” The warlock shook his head. “But I’m afraid that’s not how it works. Magic, like all crafts, requires studying, time and discipline.”

Remus grimaced. Oh great, his least favourite STD.

“Look, I know you said you’re an amazing teacher, and I believe you!” Remus tried again. “But I was not joking when I said I’m horrible at learning!”

“I still don’t believe that.”

Trust me, you will, the voice of reason piped in, making Remus wince.

“Isn’t there like a magical amulet or something that can give me super instant magic?” Remus asked. “Instead of wasting your time?

“That’s now how magical amulets work, or even how magic works,” Deceit laughed. “A magical amulet can only enhance a person’s magic, not create it.”

Not even trying to stifle the desperate whine that left his throat Remus threw his hands up in frustration. “Then how does magic work??”

The warlock thought that over a few seconds. “Imagine…” Deceit eventually slowly said. “Imagine the world around you as a calm lake. And see magic as dropping a stone in the middle of that lake. One small act creates a ripple, which spreads over the water. Changing the world as its waves surge through it. Of course, that calm lake would have remained a calm lake if you had never been there. Because those ripples start…” Deceit tapped a finger against Remus’ chest. “With you.”

Remus held a hand over the place where the warlock touched. His heart thrummed against his palm.

“So…” Remus frowned, his head slightly spinning. “Magic is like water where I dropped a stone in…?”

“Correct.”

“…But if that stone sinks, does that mean the world will just swallow up my magic? And if they’re ripples, does that mean that magic eventually becomes less powerful the more it spreads?

“I-” Deceit blinked a few times, looking mildly bewildered. “No? I mean, that’s not-! Look, it’s not a perfect metaphor-!”

“Also how big is the stone? I mean a stone won’t give much ripples! Why not throw a rock in? A boulder?? An entire mountain-!”

“The point is!” Deceit interrupted. “That all the things you wish to do won’t be possible if you don’t summon your own core magic first! That is the key to magic, not spells or potions!”

“Does that mean spells are the ripples-?”

“Forget the ripples!” Deceit said through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry.”

The warlock raised a hand. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, his eyes were burning in that now familiar spellbinding molten gold. The gold spread through his veins, his face and hands coming alive like rivers of lava rushed through him instead of blood. Even Eris lit up, the ridges between her scales glowing gold as if red hot coals burned inside of her. Remus stared breathlessly as Deceit became a living golden statue, light pouring from him and Eris, lighting up the dark hallway like they trapped sunlight in their very forms.

“Summon your core magic,” Deceit spoke, gold pouring from his mouth. “With it you can accomplish anything your heart desires, and change your world.”

Currently what Remus’ heart desired was finding out if Deceit’s tongue would burn his if he leaned in and captured those lovely lips in a kiss, but somehow he didn’t think that’s exactly what the warlock meant.

“Summoning my core magic!” Remus grinned and clapped his hands. “Awesome!” His grin tempered somewhat. “How do I do that?”

Deceit closed his hand, and the glow in his eyes and veins disappeared. Eris returned to her normal state as well. Remus blinked some spots in his vision away. His eyes had to get used to the sudden darkness of the hallway again. Taking a calming breath Deceit crossed his arms at the small of his back.

“Close your eyes.”

Remus frowned but obeyed, uncertainly closing his eyes.

“Breathe in deeply,” The warlock’s voice ordered. Remus inhaled. “Very good. Now exhale through your mouth. Think of nothing. Let all thoughts pass by and leave you…”

Think of nothing? Well shit, if that was a requirement for using magic he was fucked.

“Relax your muscles. That includes that frown you currently have.”

Remus quickly relaxed the muscles in his face, allowing his shoulders to sag.

“Continue to breathe deeply. Inhale… Exhale. Inhale… Exhale.”

Remus followed the pattern that the warlock set for a few minutes. He felt a little silly, standing in a hallway and breathing like he was an old man trying to calm his heart after running a marathon. But if it meant listening to that voice for a little longer he was more than happy to continue this odd little exercise.

“Continue breathing in this same pattern,” Deceit said. His voice was slower now, softer. “Now, as you continue breathing… Allow the world to fall away. In this very moment, there is nothing in this universe but you and my voice. Everything else ceases to exist.”

Nothing else existed? Man, what he wouldn’t give for a universe where it was just the two of them…

“Continue breathing like I showed you,” The warlock’s voice had shifted. Now it came from his right, still ever so quiet. “With every breath the world falls away bit by bit, until the only thing left is you. You, and my voice… At this very moment, you need nothing else.”

The warlock’s voice continued to circle him, closer and closer, yet Remus heard no footsteps. Not even when he strained his ears. His head felt incredibly fuzzy. If it weren’t for the solid ground beneath his feet he would think that the warlock spoke the truth. That in this moment Deceit had taken away everything and left only them, drifting in the vastness of space. The thought was exhilarating.

“Turn yourself inwards…” The warlock said, slower and softer, closer to him than before. “Feel every inhale, every beat of your heart. Search deep inside yourself…”

Remus’ head spun. The world truly became a distant mirage for a brief second, and he distinctly felt like he was floating outside of his own body. Now even the ground felt distant and far away, as if he had left behind such commonalities as stone and mortar. Perhaps, in this moment he really didn’t need them. Fuck, he felt weird… Weird… But amazing.

“Very good, Remus.” Deceit’s voice suddenly came from right behind him, and just like that Remus fell and was slamdunked back into his own body. He jolted, acutely aware of the world around him. The ground beneath his feet, every itch on his arm, every blow of the wind outside and most concerning of all, the very real and solid presence behind him. Warm breath hit the back of his neck, making his hairs stand on end.

“Turn yourself inwards,” Deceit whispered in his silk on leather voice, making all kinds of delicious shivers roll down Remus’ spine and his head fill with warm, bed-tousled fantasies. “Feel your heart beating, in rhythm with every little part of you. Here, at this very place… You will find your core magic.”

Don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, Remus thought desperately. Don’t get a boner, don’t get a-

Suddenly, Deceit pressed a hand between his shoulder blades, and Remus’ head snapped back with a sharp gasp.

Magic!

Like lightening it struck, alighting every nerve in his body in response. Magic streamed through his blood, bold and confident, filling his head and making it spin with light. This was not like how the hypnotizing had felt. That had filled only his head, dulling his senses and making him feel lazy. This sparked up every cell, every inch of him awakened by its call. His heart beat out an enthusiastic rhythm, answering the thrum of magic that rushed through his body with a melody of its own. Remus blinked his eyes open and gasped again at the sight of his hands. His veins were lit up in a golden glow, making his hands tingle and tremble. He did not need a mirror to know his eyes were alighted in that same golden flare.

The warlock pulled his hand back, and just like that the magic rushed away. Remus wanted to howl when the magic started to leave him. He wanted to grab onto the feeling with claws and teeth, to try to keep it inside of him like a dragon guarding its hoard. Let him have that confident feeling just a little longer, please!

No use. The magic left, leaving him feeling empty as Remus grasped his heart and resisted the urge to cry. He was shaking. Shaking as every fibre of him wanted that feeling back.

“And that,” Deceit said casually, as if he hadn’t just reduced Remus to a trembling mess. “Is magic. Do you understand now why you must summon that first?”

Remus turned to him, shakily. “I want to do that too.” He said breathlessly.

“You will. In time.” Deceit said lightly. “Here is your first assignment. From this day on you will do this breathing exercise every day, until your core magic is brought forth. Understand?”

Remus nodded wildly. “What are some other beginners lessons??” He asked eagerly. He had to get that feeling back, no matter what it took. The warlock smiled, and Remus felt his heart skip a beat. If that happened every time this man so much as looked his way, he would have died from a heart attack by nightfall.

“I know the perfect place to start.” Deceit said.

--

He really had to get used to infinite stairs if he was going to live here for the near future, huh? Remus would never have called himself unfit, but right now the sweat was starting to bead on his forehead and his breath came in heavy pants. The warlock ahead of him didn’t appear to be troubled at all. They had done nothing but climb stairs for what felt like ages, yet he still looked as if he freshly stumbled out of a dark fairy-tale. Eris hadn’t moved from her spot on Deceit’s shoulders, and occasionally she casted a look down at him full of mocking disdain. Remus had no idea how a cobra could convey this sheer amount of dignified disgust at him when she didn’t even have facial features, yet here he was.

“You try climbing all these stairs!” He mouthed at her when she gave him again another look as if she smelled something foul (to be fair, he had been climbing for a while now). Eris pulled up her nose at him with an “Hmph!”movement and nestled her head into the warlock’s curls. Remus squinted bitterly.

He was not going to be jealous of a snake, he was not going to be jealous of a snake-!

As if she tasted his bitterness in the air, Eris burrowed herself a little deeper into the warlock’s hair and threw him such a smug look Remus considered strangling her for a brief second. He settled on sticking his tongue out at her instead, grinning at insulted hiss he got in return.

“Will you two stop fighting?” Deceit exasperatedly said over his shoulder. Remus jumped. How the fuck did he-?

“You,” Deceit said as he scratched Eris’ yellow and black scales. “I told you to be nice.” Eris grumbled and moodily slithered her head inside the warlock’s cloak.

“As for you,” The warlock stopped and turned to Remus, who halted sheepishly in his steps. “Please stop antagonizing my familiar. Trust me, it’s not going to help you endear yourself to her. She’s a delicate lady.”

Remus took one glance at the cobra, who stuck her head out from her hiding place just enough to bare her fangs at him, the murder clear in her eyes and was just about to comment that they had a very different definition of what ‘delicate’ meant, when he frowned.

“Wait, what’s a fami-?”

“Keep up, we’re almost there.” The warlock interrupted as he resumed climbing the stairs. Remus cursed and quickly followed, despite his lungs and legs protesting.

Eventually they reached the top of the stairs, which led them to a narrow hallway with worn double doors at the end. Remus felt some of the sweat on his back turn cold. Hurriedly scrambling after Deceit he tried his best to ignore how the walls seemed to grow narrower and narrower the closer they got the doors.

“Doors!” Remus giggled nervously, trying to distract himself from the hallway. “Obviously the most magical thing of all!”

The warlock chuckled. “You might be more right than you think…” And with that, he pushed the doors open.

Remus blinked at the unexpected brightness that came pouring from the open doors. When he was adjusted to the sudden influx of light and looked around his mouth dropped open. Funny, it had been doing that a lot recently.

They were in a greenhouse. Somehow, at the high top of this mountain, there was a fucking greenhouse. Following the warlock in and instantly forgetting the narrow hallway, Remus spun on his feet to take everything in. The temperature was much milder in here than the rest of the castle, making him relax at the warmth. The distant sound of rushing water filled his ears. Suddenly he wished he had been born with a head completely covered in eyeballs just so he could take in every little detail of the greenhouse and its multitude of greenery. The high glass pane ceiling illuminated the vast array of plants, some he recognized, and some he didn’t. An apple tree stood next to a long elongated plant with large purple flowers, whose leaves swayed as if they were tousled in a non-existent wind. Familiar flowers like roses, daffodils and lilies grew alongside flowers who looked like see-through pink glass, or ones whose petals flickered like a small candle flame. Plants folded their leaves open like silk green fans, others let theirs droop like little golden bells. A willowy tree that carried curtains of silver clustered flowers opened its petals as Deceit and Remus walked past them, and unfurled to reveal long yellow stamens thick with pollen.

“Keep up, will you.” The warlock’s voice came from further ahead. Remus shook his head and tore his gaze away from the plants for now to catch up with Deceit. Hidden amongst the green there stood a worn table, wedged against a rocky wall where a modest indoor waterfall steadily rushed. Remus guessed this had to be where the castle stopped and the mountains began. The steady sound of rushing water became louder, louder than the small stream could be. Remus curiously walked up to the large windows that were opposite of the wall. They were foggy with little water droplets, but could not hide the massive waterfall right next to the window, plunging into a depth that made Remus’ legs feel all jumbly.

“Wicked…” Remus breathed.

“It is quite spectacular, isn’t it?” Deceit said, a pleased undertone in his voice. Remus tore his gaze away from the waterfall to look back at the warlock, who rummaged through the equipment that was scattered all over the table. As Deceit searched through a short pile of books that stood at the edge, Remus stepped closer and curiously inspected the table’s contents. There was a mortar and pestle, a watering can, a wooden cutting board and a knife etched with runes on the side, a book flipped open to a page explaining the anatomy of a plant he did not recognize and more dried plants than he ever saw. More so even than the collection Virgil had hanging from his ceiling, back home.

“What do these do??” He asked, pointing at the runes on the knife.

“A bit more patience, I will start the lesson shortly. But before I do that… Aha!” Finally founding what he was looking for, Deceit turned back to him. “This…” He held something out for him. “Is for you.”

Remus hesitantly took what the warlock held out for him. It was a book. A small, leather-bound tome. Curiously Remus flipped through it, only to find that the pages were all blank.

“What is this? Horrid Spells written in invisible ink?” Remus frowned up at the warlock, who chuckled.

“I’m so tempted to say yes, but no. This,” Deceit tapped a finger against the leather cover. “Is your very own grimoire.”

Remus blinked. “My what now?”

“Your grimoire. Or Book of Shadows, spell book, whatever you wish to call it. The name is not as important as its purpose.”

“Which… is?”

“To document your journey. Everything you learn about magic you put it here. Not only to track your progress, but also to look back if you ever need to remember something you might have forgotten. A grimoire marks a diligent student, and later a true magic user.”

“Wow… Uhm, okay.” Remus turned the book over in his hands, inspecting the simple black leather and the yellowed pages. Now that he thought about it, hadn’t Virgil always read and written in a tattered tome bound in black leather? He wondered if he got his own grimoire from the warlock too…

Oooh, how cool would it be if he used the blood of his enemies to write in this?? Now THAT would make it a properly badass cursed spellbook-

Remus quickly shook his head and repressed that thought faster than Logan would dismiss his weird experiment ideas. Oh nice, he was getting good at that!

“Thank you.” Remus said sincerely as he held the book against his chest. It had been years since anyone had given him something, anything, even as simple as a book. He wished he could give something back in return. What would Roman do? Pay him a compliment maybe…? But what was a good non-weird compliment?

Tell him his face is magnificent, and you totally want to sit on-

Remus quickly squashed that down. Nope, nope, definitely not!

“Now then,” Deceit smiled as he handed Remus a short pencil. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes!!” Remus grabbed the pencil, bouncing in his spot. Finally! “Yes, yes, yes please!!”

“I like your attitude. Here is your first study subject,” Deceit gestured to their surroundings. “Herbology.”

Remus blinked a few times. “Hebelowhatnow?”

“Herbology, meaning the study of magical and mundane plants and their use in occult practices. It is the perfect start for a beginner, as herbology is a type of magic where you don’t necessarily need to have other magical qualities to become an expert in.” Deceit explained as he grabbed and filled the watering can at the indoor waterfall. “And much like potions, it is more of a science than an art.”

“Right, awesome!” Remus opened the book and hastily scribbled ‘Hebelogie’ on the first page. “So is herbology just a fancy name for gardening?”

Deceit chuckled. “Not exactly.” He took his watering can and took off into the greenhouse. Remus followed.

“While it’s true that there are obvious similarities between gardening and herbology, they are two very different things,” Deceit explained while they walked, occasionally watering one of the plants. “For one, gardening is for plants used for either beautification or consumption. A herbology garden is explicitly used for magical purposes.”

“Makes sense, makes sense…” Remus nodded seriously, hoping to sound very knowledgeable.

“Secondly,” Deceit halted for a minute and drew a rune in the dirt of a small bush with heart shaped fruits. “While spells and runes can absolutely be applied in an ordinary garden as well, it’s more common to do these things in a herbology garden.”

“Spells and runes, gotcha!” Remus tried to see what kind of rune Deceit had drawn, but he had to catch up to the other before he could get a clear look.

“Lastly, and most importantly, there are some plants that no gardener without magical experience should ever handle. For example.”

The warlock halted before the tree with the silver clusters of flowers. Once again the flowers unfurled to reveal their yellow stamens. The warlock stooped down and grabbed a bucket with a tightly closed lid, which had been hidden under the greenery of another plant.

“Observe.” He said as he opened the lid. Immediately the sickly stench of rotten meat drifted upwards, making the warlock draw back with a small flinch. Even so though he reached into the bucket with his bare hand, grabbing a handful of slimy, rancid meat and righting himself. Remus’ head completely blanched on the many questions he had as he saw how the tree’s stamens righted themselves, swaying back and forth, as if it reacted to the smell.

“Putidus Carptus.” Deceit said as he threw the meat right into the awaiting flowers. The branches immediately wrapped themselves around the meat, pulling it inwards and out of sight. “Otherwise known as ‘Soldier’s Despair’ in farmer’s tongue. A tree known for sprouting in the midst of a ravaged battlefield, eating away any rot and decay around it. Whole forests have been known to sprout in prior combat zones.” He threw another piece of meat into the flowers, which was met with equal enthusiasm. “Usually it dies out if it has eaten all the decay, but when hungry enough in its final days of bloom it has been known for eating fresh meat as well in its desperation.” The warlock murmured a quick spell and the filth on his hand disappeared. “Funnily enough, it’s flowers and stamens can be used to create multiple healing potions for various illnesses. Just goes to show you even Mother Nature likes irony sometimes.”

Remus nodded, open mouthed and only half hearing the explanation. He stared, starry eyed, at the moving branches as they ate away at the meat.

“That… Is…” He said with a growing grin on his face. “So…” Amazing, awesome, fucking cool as SHIT, his mind supplies, but he said none. Biting back his grin he considered his options. Yes, he thinks it’s cool, but Roman would hate the plant. In fact, he would probably be disgusted by it!

Be like Roman, he reminded himself. Be. Like. Roman.

“…Disturbing,” Remus said finally, despite his heart wanting to stick his hand in the flowers and see if they would nibble on him too. “So very disturbing.”

The warlock gave a short hum. “Its beauty may be lost to those who look no further than what purpose it can serve, but I can appreciate its willingness to do a dirty job.”

Suddenly uncertain if he had said the right thing, Remus turned to the other to ask more. Deceit however seemed to already have moved on, now picking away dead branches of a very normal looking apple tree.

“But if this is a magical garden,” He asked, repressing his doubt for now. “Why are things like apples here? Isn’t that regular garden stuff?”

“Hardly. While it’s true that some plants have more… Obvious magical qualities than others,” Deceit picked away another branch, “More ‘mundane’ plants can actually enhance intentions in spells and potions.”

“Right. Because…” Remus thought for a second. “You choose them based on what your intent with a spell is…?” He hesitantly asked. He was rewarded for his question with another brain melting smile from the warlock.

“That is correct. Well deduced.”

Remus felt something in him swell with pride. He couldn’t remember the last time a teacher (or anyone really) complimented him. Usually people either looked disgusted or annoyed when he asked questions.

Then it hit him. The perfect compliment. One that wasn’t gross or inappropriate. Wiggling his shoulders in excitement he propped his elbow on the tree next to the warlock and planted his other hand on his side.

“So… He started, hoping he sounded casual and failing miserably. “Herbology, potions, spells…” He smiled what he thought was a good imitation of Roman’s signature golden smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

The warlock’s smile fell. A flash of some emotion crossed his face, but it was gone before Remus could decipher what it was.

“…Let’s continue.” Deceit said flatly as he turned away from the tree, leaving Remus in his prime flirting pose feeling very confused. After a few seconds of him puzzling what the fuck just happened Remus hastily scrambled after him. Obviously he had said something wrong… But what? For the life of him he could not figure out what.

He’s probably just disgusted by you. Accept it.

“Uuuh, hey!” Remus called out to drown the voice of reason. Deceit stopped and turned.

“What?” He said in that same flat tone. Remus winced, his eyes darting for something, anything-!

“Roses!” Remus quickly said.

“…What about them?” Deceit raised an eyebrow.

“Well, uhm- What kind of magical qualities do roses have?” Remus gestured to the plants in question, which grew alongside the path they currently walked. “I mean the gardens back home were full of them! Don’t tell me I had a secret stash of magic supplies right under my nose and wasted an opportunity to sell them off to the highest bidder!”

Deceit’s stance eased. “Ah, good question.” He said. Remus sagged in relief. Good save there.

“It’s true that roses have no overt magical qualities,” The warlock said made his way to Remus and smoothed out some of the roses. “But they’re used in plenty of potions and spells as enhancers.”

“Like what kind?” Remus asked curiously.

“The thorns can be used in protection spells and minor curses,” Deceit fussed over a white rose, one that hadn’t quite bloomed yet. “With the petals it depends on the colour. Remember, intent is everything. White petals for example can be used for blessings, while yellow petals are useful in anti-depressant potions.”

“Right,” Remus nodded as he scribbled ‘patels and colur meening’ in his grimoire. “And red petals?”

“Oh, those are used for love potions, aphrodisiacs, that kind of thing.”

“R-Really…?” Remus gave himself a mental pat on the back as he managed to push away the delightfully delicious images that the word aphrodisiacs conjured up. “That- That’s interesting…”

“You know,” Deceit said slowly as he looked at the rosebud. “It’s here you find the real difference between gardeners and herbalists.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. While we both agree that nature will always do the most work, sometimes we can give…” Deceit gently touched the bud. A spark of gold flickered at his fingertips, before it spread through the veins of the flower like thin glowing rivers. “A helping hand.”

The flower trembled as it slowly, ever so slowly, unfurled its petals. The golden veins glimmered, casting Deceit’s face in soft light. Lightly Deceit cupped the flower and leaned in to inhale its scent. Remus couldn’t help but stare as a smile softened the sharp angles of the warlock’s face.

“I wish I was that rose…” Remus muttered reverently.

“What did you say?” Deceit blinked up at him.

“I SAID YOU’RE GROSS!!” Remus blurted.

Slapping a hand in front of his mouth, Remus stared at the warlock’s stunned face. Oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK-

How the fuck do I get myself out of this, what do I do what do I DO-??? Don’t let him ask questions do something follow your instinct QUICK!!!

Turning, Remus grabbed and pulled the nearest plant from the ground and shoved it into his mouth.

“No wait, DON’T EAT THAT-!!”

--

Remus hurled, and added some more of his stomach fluids into the empty flowerpot he was currently hunched over. He lost count at this point how many times he had puked into the clay pot by now, and yet the vomit still came at an alarming speed. The cool hands that diligently brushed his hair back as he was unpleasantly reacquainted with his breakfast only made this whole situation so much worse.

“Well then,” The warlock said dryly. “Hopefully this will be a wise lesson not to eat any plant you’ve never seen before.”

Another miserable roll of his stomach made Remus heave out some more fluids. At this point it was nothing but bile. “W-What the fuck did I eat…?” He managed to miserably whine out.

“That was a little plant called “Atrejeci”. Or, as it is more commonly known, Charcoal Root. In its diluted form it can purify mild poisons from your bloodstream. In its undiluted form however it just purifies the body…” Deceit paused as Remus puked out some more stomach acid. “…In a more literal sense.”

“Cool,” Remus muttered pitifully. “Cool cool cool cool cool. How long is this going to last exactly…?”

“Seeing as you ate nearly half a plant, you’ll probably be here a while.”

“Great…”

“Not to worry, it shouldn’t be fatal in the long run as long as we treat it well.” The warlock patted him between the shoulder blades. “I’m going to get you some water. You’ll be losing a lot of liquids in the coming hour, and we need to make sure you don’t get dehydrated.”

“Okay, you do that…” Remus babbled as footsteps echoed away from him. “I’ll be here…!” He heaved again and leaned his sweaty forehead against the flowerpot’s cool edge. “Not going anywhere…”

Nice going, idiot. Nothing quite says “romance” like gratuitous vomiting!

“Well at least I distracted him…” Remus muttered. His stomach felt like it was determined to burn a hole through his flesh and turn him into the world’s most horrifying fountain.

Ah yes, at least you did that… All the while showing how you are nothing but a screw-up. How long do you think those magic lessons will last now?

“Shut up-” Remus murmured miserably before he felt another hurl coming up and he had to spit out more bile.

--

The serene sounds of vomiting followed Deceit as he made his way to his little indoor waterfall. His new student was an… Odd one, to say the least.

“he’s an idiot.” Eris contributed from his shoulders.

“Be nice, dear.” Deceit distractedly muttered.

“he does not take this seriously. why do you bother?”

“On the contrary,” Deceit answered as he grabbed a wooden pitcher from his supply table. “I think he takes it incredibly seriously.”

Eris gave him a disbelieving head tilt. “how can you tell?”

“Because, my sceptical serpent,” Deceit gave Eris a small flick on her nose, earning him an offended hiss and a snap at his fingers in return. “He wants this chance to prove himself to a near desperate degree.”

Yes, spending more time with Remus this day had given him a clearer image of the prince. The eagerness to please, the careless willingness to put his life into the hands of a complete stranger, the disbelieving joy when he got even the smallest of compliments, the fear and badly hidden flinches when he did something wrong… All of it was starting to paint a picture, and not a very pretty one.

With a scowl he held a pitcher in the waterfall. Goodness, just when he thought he couldn’t hate Augusto more… The man unfortunately just kept surprising him.

Oh well… In a weird sense he supposed he should be thankful that his nemesis had screwed up his parenting this badly. If he hadn’t, it would have been so much harder to persuade Remus to his side. Now he didn’t even need to do anything! The ease almost unnerved him a little bit. Although he definitely could have used that same kind of ease with his… Previous student…

He had wandered quite a bit further from the castle than he usually did. He tried to convince himself it was because he was looking for a specific herb for one of his potions, but in truth… It had been for no other reason than pure restlessness.

The lights of the small city at the base of the mountain gleamed in the darkness of the night. Occasionally shouting of drunken folk would echo upwards to where Deceit stood, silent and observing. He had gotten close enough to the houses that he could see the people walking in the streets, crawling around like busy little ants. Usually he avoided coming this close but alas, it appeared that his hubris had gotten the better of him yet again. Though he doubted anyone would see him even if they did bother to look up. His black cloak made him one with the shadows. Invisible to those unsuspecting fools who cowered at the mere mention of his existence.

The night sky deepened, and one by one the lights went out in the city. People sought out their warm homes and comfy beds, yet the warlock kept looking until the quiet of the mountains pressed in on him once more. Like he was suffocated under a pillow.

Deceit sighed. Why did he come here? More importantly, why did he stay here so long? Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from the darkened city and started to walk up the path he walked a thousand times before. Eris would probably have started to worry by now. He better try to come up with some good excuse-

He stopped. He perked his ears, frowning. Deceit had been in the mountains for a very, very long time. He knew every sound these peaks and valleys made at night by heart, every creature’s howl, every whisper the wind would carry.

What he heard now however? That decidedly did not belong here.

Curiously he followed the sound. To him it almost sounded like a wounded animal, but the closer and closer he got he slowly realized that couldn’t be it. That’s how he found the ravine.

The ravines could be found all throughout the mountains. Treacherous, gaping chasms hidden in the rough landscape. Invisible to the eye until it was too late. Especially in the dark, when the shadows would hide their depths until someone stumbled into them. Deceit suspected that these fissures had added more people to the missing list than he ever did. Unless you were very careful or knew the mountain paths well it was almost impossible to avoid them.

Treading carefully towards the rocky edge of the fissure, Deceit peered in. It was not as deep as some of these ravines could get, but still deep enough that the moonlight did not reach all the way down. Luckily Deceit’s night vision had always been very good, so he could just make out the figure squirming at the bottom. Hurt grunts floated up towards him as the person in the fissure tried to wobbly stand, only to fall back over with an anguished wail.

Deceit tilted his head. Why on earth had they tried to enter the Desolate Mountains? Surely if they lived this close they must have heard the stories of him and his infamous reputation. Hadn’t those been enough? He almost felt a little insulted.

Well, he supposed it didn’t matter now. Whoever the poor sod was, if they were hurt they wouldn’t be able to climb out of the fissure by themselves. They would just become another disappearance. Another rumour for the gossipers down below. Deceit shrugged and turned to leave.

“Shit-! Come on, get up get up-! OW!!”

Deceit froze on the spot. The voice that drifted upwards from the fissure kept on babbling, panicked, pained and…

And they sounded so young.

Another distressed ‘No, no! Get up please!’ floating up only confirmed it. Whoever it was down there, they were young. Hell, they sounded like they hadn’t quite hit puberty yet. Maybe it was one of those snot-lipped city kids who dared each other to go in the mountains to prove how brave they were. But even then they never got this far up! Why had this kid travelled all this way?

Deceit shook his head. It was none of his business. Surely if their parents missed them they would come and look for them.

…But would they be on time? Even if they dared to enter the mountains for a rescue mission (which was unlikely) it did not guarantee that the kid was found before a predator with less mercy than Deceit would. Or before he starved to death, or any other gruesome fate. The mountains were cruel, especially to those who were hurt. By this rate the kid would most likely be dead by morning…

No, this was ridiculous! He didn’t know the little idiot, and besides! They knew the dangers when they went into the mountains! It was their own fault for coming here!

Deceit knew all that, and yet his feet refused to move away from the fissure. A pained cry echoed towards him, causing something to tug at the tattered strings of his heart and- Oh no, was that his conscious talking??? He thought he got rid of that thing years ago!

Another distressed wail. Deceit closed his eyes, frustration and resignation coming out in a long grunting sigh before he snapped his fingers and transported himself. Right before the teenager stuck at the bottom of the ravine.

At first they didn’t notice him. The boy- Or at least, Deceit thought it was a boy- looked to be around twelve or thirteen. Dark locks fell down in unruly bangs, hiding away his eyes behind a thick curtain of hair. The boy grunted and grabbed the rocky wall to try to stand up once more. Incredibly dumb of him. If Deceit had to judge from the sight of the boy’s ankle, which was wrapped in improvised bandages darkened with blood and bent at an angle that couldn’t mean anything good, he had made quite a nasty fall.

As Deceit moved to get a better look, the boy finally noticed him and fell back down with a startled shout.

“Who are you?!” The boy yelled, shuffling backwards. Deceit held up his hands in a calming gesture.

“I’m not here to harm you.”

“Like hell you are!”

Deceit rolled his eyes impatiently and didn’t answer. What use was explaining now when that ankle was in such desperate need for a healing?

“Stay back!” The boy yelled as Deceit kept advancing in on him. “I’m warning you!”

“Foolish boy, I’m just here to help you-!”

“I am the warlock of these mountains!” The boy growled with a ferocity that made Deceit pause in his steps. “Dare to come any closer and I will hex your ass!”

Blinking a few times in surprise, Deceit fought against the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Now that was one he hadn’t heard before. If it hadn’t been for the underlying prepubescent quality of the boy’s voice, he would have actually sounded threatening enough to fool someone.

“I said stay back!!” The boy growled once more as Deceit stepped closer. “Didn’t you hear me?! I am the warlock of these mountains!!”

“Oooh?” Deceit said amusedly as he kneeled to the boy’s eye height. A snap of his fingers made a small flame flicker to life in his palm, illuminating his face in threatening shadows. “Are you now…?” He grinned, his fangs flashing in the flickering light.

In the light of the flame Deceit saw the colour drain from the boy’s cheeks as he realized his mistake.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit- I’m sorry-!” The boy babbled as he tried his best to crawl even further back, despite the stone behind him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-! I didn’t mean to insult you, I’m sorry-!”

“Look into my eyes.” Deceit said calmly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean it-!”

“I said look into my eyes.”

At the commanding hiss the boy’s eyes unwillingly snapped up and looked right into the bright glow of Deceit’s hypnotizing gaze. As he saw the boy’s eyes glaze over in molten gold obedience Deceit smirked.

“There we go! Was that so hard?” Deceit drawled. “Now, tell me the truth. What is your name?”

“V-Virgil…” The boy stammered. “Virgil Becker.”

“Virgil.” Deceit nodded. “Such a pleasure to meet you! What exactly are you doing in my mountains, Virgil?”

“I… I…” Virgil seemed to struggle to find the words. Trying to lie already? Goodness, what a shame.

“No use lying to me, boy. Why are you here?”

“I ran away!” The truth finally came out in a rush.

“Right,” Deceit nodded. “And your first idea was to come here? That seems a little foolish, don’t you agree? What, were you looking to prove yourself? Hoping to earn your peers’ praise by pretending you’re brave?”

“N-No…” Virgil shook his head. “I came here because… Because…”

“Because…?”

“Because he wouldn’t follow me if I went into the mountains.”

Deceit paused. Forgetting his ‘dreaded warlock’ act for a second, he finally fully took in the boy in front of him. His thin frame, the hollowed out face. He squinted. Now that he took a closer look, there seemed to be something… Hiddenbehind the boy’s long bangs.

Virgil flinched as Deceit reached out his hand, but all he did was gently brush away his bangs from his eyes. Deceit’s breath hitched. Virgil’s left eye was almost swollen shut, dark purple and yellow bruising pulling most of his eye white from sight. It didn’t look like he had gotten it falling down. It looked to be at least a few days old.

“Oh dear…” Deceit said softly. “This world has hurt you terribly, hasn’t it…?��

Perhaps it was Deceit’s words, or his drastically gentler tone, but the fear seemed to disappear from the boy’s shaking frame. Confusion seemed to take its place as Virgil openly gawked at Deceit. Suddenly uncomfortable under the boy’s stare Deceit grappled to find back his control.

“Sssleep.” Deceit hurriedly commanded. Immediately Virgil’s eyes started drooping, and though he valiantly tried to fight it off it was no use. Deceit breathed a sigh of relief as Virgil’s head eventually nodded forward and he fell into a deep slumber.

Hoping to get rid of the uncomfortable ache in his stomach, Deceit finally focused on the boy’s ankle. As he unwrapped the boy’s improvised bandages he fought back a wince. Up close it was even worse than he had initially thought. The skin had broken, and if he saw it correctly through all the clotted blood the bone was actually sticking out. Not only that, but also the too warm skin and the beginning of blackened veins surrounding the wound suggested that the boy was developing an infection. This was not something he could just heal then and there. The boy needed five separate healing sessions at the very least.

He shook his head. No. No, this was not his problem. He would heal the boy just enough that he wouldn’t die for the next 24 hours and leave him at the edge of the mountains. He would go back to his life thinking this encounter was just a fever dream, and they would go their happy separate ways.

Except… What if he didn’t survive it? What if he couldn’t stop the infection from spreading to his heart, and the boy would die a miserable death before he could even reach his hometown again? Besides, there were still other predators on the loose. Deceit highly doubted a mountain lion or one of the Fair Folk would be as kind as him.

Not only that, what if the boy did somehow survive and didn’t think it was a dream? What if he told everyone about this encounter? Yes, most people would probably declare him crazy, but there would always be people who would believe him. Who would know the warlock they feared had not only spared, but also healed someone who went into his mountains. The reputation he had so carefully cultivated would slowly fall apart, and before you know it some brainless knights would march into the mountains again to come for him. He couldn’t let that happen!

Or, some traitorous part of Deceit whispered as he looked at the unconscious boy, what if the one he fled away from will find him first…?

He didn’t realize he had dug his talons into the flesh of his own palms until his skin broke and small beads of red trickled from his clenched fists. Cursing the traitorous little voice and every deity he could think of, Deceit spat out a spell under his breath. The boy levitated from the ground, his head rolling backwards like a marionette without its strings as he floated in mid-air. Deceit rose, already dreading the journey home.

How on earth was he going to explain this to Eris?

The sound of another hurl pulled him out of his memories. Deceit shook his head and grabbed the pitcher, which was full by now. There was no use dwelling on his past mistakes. All he had to do was make sure he wouldn’t repeat them.

Walking back to his newest student with the pitcher in hand, Deceit carefully thought over his next step. Perhaps it was wiser to not jump to his next course of action too quick. It appeared he was compromised anyhow. He shuddered. At first he had thought he had finally found the person who could actually successfully lie to him... Wasn’t that a terrifying thought?

But thank the stars that hadn’t been the case. He just hadn’t seen his honesty. True honesty… Now that was something he hadn’t seen in a long while. No wonder he hadn’t recognized it at first.

Nevertheless, better to tread more carefully. He had always prided himself on his talent to see right through people, but it appeared that his years of isolation had damaged that talent. Deceit snorted. Hell, if he didn’t know any better he would think Remus was attracted to him.

[cha-lyn]

Milk & Eggs - Ten

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1580ish

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: usual angst, cussing, some flufffffff

A/N:  I’M BACK. All married and shit. Thanks for being patient lovies. 

if ya like it, give it a reblog/like/comment. Makes my day.

Master List // Previous Chapter

- - - 

Any rational person would sit there and wait for him or maybe get in the cab in wait, but apparently you aren't so rational, so you slip your shoes on and jump out of the bed of the truck. You use your phone as a flashlight and walk the way you think Bucky went. It was cool enough that you could just see your breath. 

Bucky was nowhere to be found. 

You turn around and head in the direction you think the truck is in. You don’t know why but you started running, calling Bucky’s name as you do. You were right on the verge of tears. Right on the edge of panic.

“Y/N! Y/N?! Where the hell are you Y/N?” Finally you hear his voice. 

“Bucky?” Finally you see his dark silhouette.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Where did you go?!” He gently grabbed your face between his hands, worry evident in his eyes, even in the dark.

“Where did I go, where did YOU go?” You pushed him away. “You left me out here all alone. It’s like the third time you’ve ran away from me Bucky! This time in a pitch dark field!”

“Shit, I’m sorry! I had to pee. I wasn’t running this time, I swear. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“You said you had to take a walk?”

He chuckled and you wondered what the joke was. “I had to pee, I didn’t want to tell you that. You’re a lady.” You grit your teeth. “Shit, doll. I was worried about you.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Shaking your head, you push past him to walk back to the truck. 

Bucky is right behind you, attempting to help you up when you get back into the truck bed, but you ignore him. “Wanna cookie? Another drink?” He sits next to you. 

You purse your lips, but nod. “A drink. Two cookies. I thought you were pissed at me?”

Bucky pauses his drink mixing and looks up at you. “I was... kinda,” he finished pouring your drink. “But, it felt good... telling you. I don’t talk about it. Maybe I should.” He shrugs. “ Are you still mad at me?”

You nod. 

“Well, I really am sorry. Look. I promise I won’t run away from you ever again, okay?” He hands you your drink and passes you the plastic container of cookies. You take a generous sip, the drink warming you as you swallow.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” You look back at the stars and see another falling star after a while. You make another wish and take another drink. “Hey Buck?”

“Yea, doll?” That damn name again.

“Maybe I am overstepping a bit. I hope this doesn’t come off as offensive… but those scars, scars in general really, are--uhm-- pretty hot.” You looked up at him. You couldn't read his face in the dark. 

“They’re hot?” 

It just spills out. “Mmhmm. I mean, you are hot anyway. But the scars don’t hurt either.” Oh the effects of alcohol and the dark and the stars. There were a few moments of silence and you took to pretending to inspect your nails in the dark. 

Bucky took a deep breath. You stole a glance at him, worried he was going to get up and ‘go for another walk’. Instead he was looking at you. 

“You think I’m hot?” His lips were fighting a smile.

You took a bit of a cookie. “I thought it was obvious that I think you’re sexy?” 

“Oh! So, I’m sexy now?” Bucky continues, voice very low and very intrigued, “Well, I think you’re sexy too, doll.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Looking up at him then, you see a smile. 

“Let me prove it to you,” he took your drink out of your hand and placed it on the end of the tailgate with his own. He brought his hand back to your cheek.

“As long as you don’t run away this time,” you snark.

Bucky threw his head back, barking a laugh. “Deal.” And then he kissed you under the stars.

--

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Bucky grinned as you got out of your car, “Hello, slick.”

“Hi Bucky.” The last time you’d seen him he’d kissed you up against your car for a good five minutes before you interrupted him with a yawn and he’d sent you home. 

Today, he met you at your door, where he gave you a kiss on the cheek. Both of you blushed like children. He filled the milk jugs as you told him about all the orders you and Grams had to do this week. Once he’d loaded the eggs into the truck he started to fidget with his ball cap.

“Well, maybe, if you have a chance… we could get lunch sometime this week?”

“I would love that, Buck. Maybe the diner? Tomorrow?”

“I have to go to town tomorrow around lunch. What about Wednesday? 12?”

“Yes.” You bit your lip, failing to suppress your huge grin. “Can’t wait. See ya then.”

“Me either. See ya doll.”

--

It was a busy day at the bakery. The bell kept ringing on the door, you had two birthday cakes to finish just today. Your list for tomorrow was even longer. You worked through lunch and had just started on the final decorations for the first one when your phone rang. You didn’t even think about answering and kept working.

A little bit later, the bell rang and Gram went to answer it, but quickly returned. “It’s for you sweetie.” You quirked eyebrow at her smirk. “It’s James.”

“Oh!” You wipe your hands of and round the corner to see Bucky sitting at the bar with two burgers and a plate of fries. You hadn’t seen him since the stargazing that night. “What a great surprise.”

“Uh… Well, I called you to see where you were, but you didn’t answer,” he pulled out a few packets of ketchup and barbeque sauce. “So I ordered your usual to go. Extra bacon.”

It hit you then. You were supposed to meet him--you check the clock--45 minutes ago at the diner. You’d completely forgot. The shop had been that busy. Your schedule had been wake up, shower, bake all day, eat a quick dinner, shower, and sleep for two days now.  

“Oh my god, I was supposed to meet you wasn’t I?” He nodded. “Oh shit. Bucky, I’m so sorry it’s been so hectic around here.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. Sit down and eat.” He smiled and took a bite of his burger and pointed a finger at yours. He waved you quiet when you started to apologize profusely. “Seriously, it’s okay. You guys have been swamped. But you still need to eat.” He winked at you.

You ate your burger quickly. Once you smell it, you realize just how hungry you are. Bucky was telling you about a livestock auction coming up in a couple of weeks and that he was thinking about getting a herding dog when he went. 

“You need to give that horse a name before you buy more pets.”

He made a face at you. “All of my animals have a purpose, Y/N. They aren’t pets.”

“Hah. You treat them like pets. You talk to them like I talked to Sharon’s cat. You’d let Cap in the house if he wasn’t so big.” 

He laughed, cocking his head. “Who is Sharon?”

You stopped chewing. “What?”

“You said I talk to animals like you talked to Sharon’s cat. Who is Sharon?” He dipped three fries into your ketchup and ate them in one bite.

“Oh… Sharon was my roommate. The one… ya know.” You pushed your leftover fries away. Appetite gone.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay… I just... Actually, I've got to get back to work. But thanks so much for lunch.” You smiled and gathered the trash. “Sorry again for totally spacing.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was my pleasure, slick. This was fun, we should do this again.” 

“Next time I won’t stand you up.”

“I’ll hold you to that, doll. See ya.” He winked.

“See ya Buck.”

He waved and left the shop and you returned to the kitchen. 

“That was so sweet of him to bring you lunch,” Grams says when you start rolling out more fondant. 

“Mhhmm. Even after I forgot to meet him. I’ll have to make it up to him.” You scolded yourself internally. 

“Well, he didn’t seem too bothered.” 

You nodded. 

That night you text him, but you were only able to keep your eyes open for 30 minutes before you were in dreamland. When you woke up your phone was face down beside your bed.  5% 

“Well shit.” You plugged it in. Bucky had sent you a couple messages after you’d fallen asleep. 

So what should I name that horse?

Slick?

Lol guess you fell asleep. Goodnight doll. 

You responded before you got in the shower: I did fall asleep. And forget to plug my phone into the charger haha sorry. 

It vibrated as you dried off. 

No problem. You’ve been working a lot lately. 

I was thinking about grilling some steak tonight (don’t tell the cows) 

You’re welcome to join me if you want 

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your face as you reply: 

I love steak as long as I didn’t know it..ya know before. 

I have a delivery in town at 5 but then I’m free

He responded:

Sounds good doll see you around 5:45ish then?

Sounds good! See you then Buck

- - - 

Taglist : bless y’all for your patience 

@notatallfriendly​    @thechaoticargonaut   @booktease21  @iamwarrenspeace  @titty-teetee  @harryngtonewithyourshit 

[jenguerrero]

#Juliaturshen #nowandagain #chroniclebooks

Julia Turshen’s new book, Now & Again, is absolutely amazing. I love everything about it. In one of her recipes she instructs, “Arrange the mango slices artfully-but not too preciously-on a serving platter.” That really captures the feel of the book. Everything has a breezy elegance to it and nothing is fussy. The recipes are global, and I adore that many of them are off the beaten path. I love being exposed to new things. The book is organized by season, and then menus for all different sorts of get-togethers. The recipes are casual, beautiful, interesting, nourishing, and delicious, and nothing’s difficult. She generally has you serving dishes right in what they’re made in. I’ve had the book in my hands for 3 days and I’ve made 4 meals from it already. <Minus the desserts. I already run 5 miles a day and don’t care to increase that – lol!> It’s a hard book to put down.

I don’t have a copy of her ridiculously popular book, Small Victories <I know!>, so I can’t make a comparison there. This has a gingham print detail running along the spine just like that one, so I’m betting it’s in the same vein. Feed the Resistance is a tiny book of hers focusing on food and activism, and that one’s terrific. And she worked with Gwyneth Paltrow on It’s All Good, another yummy, feel-good title.

My full review of the book with my pics and thoughts of all the dishes we tried so far, is at the bottom. But first I wanted to share with you her recipe for Scrambled Eggs with Cilantro + Coconut Chutney from her Sunday Morning Bangladeshi Breakfast menu.

If you love it, come find me again, or hit that follow button! 😀

Reprinted from Now & Again by Julia Turshen with permission by Chronicle Books, 2018

Scrambled Eggs with Cilantro + Coconut Chutney

SERVES 4

Scrambled eggs are probably what I eat most frequently, but they aren’t much to write home about. This chutney is. It takes the eggs from ordinary to remarkable, and, here’s the best part, it is as easy as throwing a bunch of things into a food processor and pressing the button. There’s no cooking, just combining. It keeps well in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to a week (it gets quite a bit thicker and loses a bit of its fresh, herby brightness, but it is still great), and it’s also good on roast chicken, grilled fish, broiled lamb, griddled halloumi cheese, or roasted sweet potatoes. If you don’t like cilantro, substitute fresh mint.

2 large handfuls of fresh cilantro leaves (a little bit of stem is fine!) 1 Tbsp peeled and minced or grated fresh ginger ½ tsp cumin seeds or ground cumin ½ cup [35 g] unsweetened flaked dried coconut 1½ tsp kosher salt ¼ cup [60 ml] coconut milk (full-fat or low-fat coconut milk will work) 1½ tsp fresh lime juice 8 eggs 2 Tbsp unsalted butter

In a food processor, combine the cilantro, ginger, cumin, dried coconut, and ½ tsp salt and pulse until the cilantro is finely chopped. Add the coconut milk and lime juice and pulse just to combine (you want the chutney to have a little texture, rather than be totally smooth). Set the chutney aside.

Crack the eggs into a large bowl and whisk until the whites and yolks are well blended. Add the remaining salt and whisk one more time.

In a large nonstick skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the eggs and cook, stirring gently with a wooden spoon or heat-resistant spatula, until they are as set as you like them to be.

Transfer the eggs to a large platter. Serve the chutney either spooned on top or in a bowl on the side.

It’s Me Again CURRIED SCRAMBLED EGG SALAD Leftover scrambled eggs can be turned into egg salad. Let them cool to room temperature (which they probably already are if they’re left over), put them into a bowl, and break them up with a spoon. Add a good shake of curry powder and then bind with as much mayonnaise as you like (egg salad is a very personal thing). Or you can use half mayonnaise and half plain Greek yogurt if you want to lighten things a bit. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and curry powder if needed. You can also add a big spoonful of the Cilantro + Coconut Chutney (or maybe it was already on the eggs, in which case, you’re set). Delicious served on well-toasted leftover flatbreads or pita breads. MANGO CHUTNEY Combine a finely chopped red onion, about 1 Tbsp peeled and minced or grated fresh ginger, a minced garlic clove, and a little fat (olive oil, coconut oil, unsalted butter, or ghee would work equally well) in a medium skillet. Season with a good shake of curry powder and some red pepper flakes and then cook over medium heat until the aromatics are softened but not browned. Meanwhile, roughly chop the leftover mango. Once the aromatics have softened, add the mango, a large handful or two is ideal (with whatever syrup and pistachios are left), and a healthy splash of apple cider vinegar and simmer everything together for a few minutes to blend the flavors well. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and vinegar if needed. You can leave the chutney as is or you can purée it a little or a lot in a food processor. Cool to room temperature and store in a tightly capped jar in the refrigerator for up to a week. Serve with grilled or roasted meats (lamb and pork are especially nice) or tuck some into a grilled cheese sandwich. It’s also great served on its own alongside a piece of sharp Cheddar for snacking or mixed with equal parts mayonnaise for a turkey or ham sandwich spread.

My review of the book…

Now & Again By Julia Turshen Edition: Harcover

This book is amazing! It’s organized by season. She tackles one menu at a time, equally perfect for parties and family gatherings. She breaks down what parts of the meal can be prepped ahead of time, and spells out just how far ahead you can do it. The meals are really fun, interesting, and nourishing. After each meal, she gets into the “again” component. She talks about what you can do with leftovers. My family brings lunch with them every day, so I might have to generate leftovers to try some of her ideas. Yeah, they really sound that great!

She’s got a very down-to-earth relaxing tone that’ll have you inspired and at ease. Her sense of humor really comes across in some of the dishes. One of the dinners is “Steak House Dinner for Vegetarians”. That cracked me up. No, the book is not vegetarian. It’s very much an omnivore book, but she sees a party need, she tackles it! And the dinner sounds great. Or how about “A Not-Kosher Jewish Christmas” where she waxes on nostalgically about movie marathons and Chinese food on Christmas and helps you make that dinner happen. She’s just so likeable.

My thoughts and pics of the dishes we tried: 1-5) FALL – Red-Checkered Tablecloth Late Saturday Lunch – p 27. It also works perfectly as a night-before-the-race pasta dinner for runners! This dinner’s fabulous! She has a recipe for polenta and Nutella sandwich cookies, too, but we skipped the sweets.

2) Garlic & Anchovy Butter Toasts – p 31. Love these. The saltiness of the anchovies really makes the garlic bread pop. 3) Italian Flag Baked Pasta – p 33. She squeezes two bags of spinach into the pasta bake, and the meat’s ground turkey. Delicious and slightly healthier comfort food.

4) Arugula Salad with Lemon, Pine Nuts, & Pecorino – p 35. Lovely clean fresh taste to balance that decadent pasta. 5) Jody’s Plum Bibonade – p 36. White wine, seltzer, plums, and orange. So refreshing and light.

6-9) FALL – Sunday Morning Bangladeshi Breakfast – p 17.

7) Scrambled Eggs with Cilantro & Coconut Chutney – p 19. Wow. These are super interesting and delicious. 8) Whole Wheat and Cumin Flatbreads – p 21. Wonderfully fragrant and quick. Mix, knead for 3 minutes, rise for an hour, and a quick trip across a cast iron skillet.

9) Mango with Cardamom Syrup & Pistachios – p 23. We loved this. It’s really refreshing and the cardamom syrup complements the mango perfectly. 10-13) FALL – Card Night Enchiladas – p 41. There’s a recipe for Toasted Coconut Cake for this dinner, but we didn’t try that.

11) Garlicky Shrimp with Tequila & Lime – p 42. Yummy and speedy. 12) Chicken & Roasted Tomato Enchiladas – p 44. Lovely enchiladas. I may double or triple the jalapeno next time for a little heat. After you roast it, it really mellows out. 13) Kale Salad with Pepita Dressing – p 46. Don’t skip this! It’s a really tasty salad and she has you massage citrus juice and salt into the kale before dressing it, so you don’t get salad jaw fatigue.

14-17) FALL: Rosh Hashanah Dinner – p 51. There’s a recipe for Applesauce Cake with Cream Cheese & Honey Frosting that we didn’t try. I think this is our favorite so far. The whole house smells amazing, and my youngest closed her eyes with her first bite as she said, “Oh my gosh. Is that ever good!”

15) Celebration Chicken with Sweet Potatoes and Dates – p 54. Fantastically moist chicken and perfectly crisp skin. The sweet potatoes and super sweet dates are lovely with it.

16) Baked Saffron Rice – p 55. Lickable. The flavor on this is amazing. I love the technique. The texture’s just right without any attention from the cook. 17) Beet Salad with Poppy Seed & Chive Dressing – p 56. Great salad. The Dijon should be offended that it’s not mentioned in the title because it makes the dressing pop.

I started flagging other things I wanted to try and found that I was just flagging everything, so I’ll just give you the list of the meals I haven’t tried yet: FALL: Rosh Hashanah Dinner * No Stress Thanksgiving * WINTER: Brunch For a Crowd * Chili & Cornbread Lunch * Steakhouse Dinner For Vegetarians * Feast of the Almost Seven Fishes * A Not-Kosher Jewish Christmas * SPRING: Easy All-Green Lunch * Grace’s Birthday Late Lunch * Passover Seder * Tortilla Soup for a Chilly Spring Evening * Just My Type of Dinner * SUMMER: Grilled Vietnamese Breakfast * Simple Backpack Picnic Lunch * Afternoon Tacos * Fourth of July * Middle Eastern Dinner Outside

*I received a copy to explore and share my thoughts.

Julia Turshen’s Scrambled Eggs with Cilantro + Coconut Chutney recipe and Cookbook review: Now & Again #Juliaturshen #nowandagain #chroniclebooks Julia Turshen's new book, Now & Again, is absolutely amazing. I love everything about it.

[mostly-plants]

Week 4 of eating vegan

Day 22: Bakesale day! Over the course of the weekend I made about 85 earl grey & orange cookies, 45 coconut raspberry macaroons, 32 bagels, 24 chocolate cupcakes and 12 lemon blueberry muffins (all vegan). And thanks to my lovely friends, we raised $330 to support Oxfam’s work in addressing the current food crisis in eastern Africa.

Other than catching up with a few friends and feeling happy that we were able to raise some funds, one of my highlights of the day was eating a fresh bagel with nigella seeds, topped with Tofutti Better than cream cheese, fresh tomato and black pepper. It was delightful! I will definitely be making more of these bagels soon! I used a recipe from YouTuber NikkiVegan and just added 100 grams of sourdough starter to each batch for extra flavour and rise. My favourite bagel toppings are sesame seeds or nigella seeds. So good! After a full weekend of baking we were both pretty exhausted, so ordered some Vietnamese food for dinner from Paper Plate. It was pretty tasty, but a little bit expensive for what it was. Also, although the veggie rice paper rolls we ordered had some really enjoyable and interesting flavours, they came with both ends open instead of the traditional enclosed wrap. This made them much harder to eat, because every time you took a bite, the fillings would slip out the bottom. There’s nothing wrong with being creative, but also... sometimes there’s a reason that the original is the best. For dessert I ate 2 more cupcakes because I was tired and hungry and they were full of sugary chocolatey-coffee goodness. I then experienced #cupcakeregret because 2 cupcakes is 1 too many. You win this time, cupcakes. Lesson learned.

Day 23: I was pretty exhausted after baking all weekend, but I had some toast with Tofutti cream cheese and tomato / peanut butter and raspberry jam for breakfast, and then headed off to work. I had leftover Pho for lunch, plus some fruit and coconut raspberry macaroons for snacks, and then (again) leftover black bean tacos for dinner. I also had 1 (and only 1) cupcake for dessert.

Day 24: I was still exhausted this morning, so slept in a little bit and had black bean tacos for brunch (yes, I am just really feeling the love for Mexican food right now!). Morning tea was coffee (of course), a couple more macaroons and a chocolate brownie. Yes, very indulgent, but dinner will be mostly greens.

I was really tired in the afternoon so a had a little rest and then made a “use up what’s in the fridge” stir-fry for dinner. I had a slightly wilted green cabbage, some broccoli and bok choy, and some firm tofu. I mixed up a few tablespoons of peanut butter with about half the amount of sweet soy sauce and a bit of sriracha to make peanut sauce, and cooked up all the veggies and tofu before mixing in the sauce and some pepper. It turned out pretty well! I’d shredded the cabbage into strips and once cooked they were kind of like noodles.

Day 25: Toast for breakfast again - the classic PB and banana on toast with a tablespoon of chia seeds and maple syrup for extra healthy fats, minerals, and, let’s be honest, the maple syrup was there because it’s delicious. :d

Work was hectic so I ended up having lunch (left-over stir-fry) really late, but then by the time I got home around 7pm I felt like doing some cooking to wind down. I’d wanted to try making some seitan, so I attempted this scallion (aka spring onion) sausage recipe from Mary’s test kitchen. I think I underseasoned the mix a little bit, because although they turned out ok, they tasted a little bland. In fairness, I’d used chives instead of spring onions because I didn’t have any at the time, and it may have been a mistake to substitute the key ingredient named in the recipe title! XD I also managed to cut my finger on the edge of some aluminium foil while rolling the sausages up (so talented, how DOES she do it?) Oh well.. You win this time, seitan, but this isn’t over yet!

I’d soaked some barley the night before, so I chopped up some onion, carrot and celery and cooked it along with some veggie stock and bayleaves, then added the barley. For extra veggie goodness (and to clear the last scraps out of the veggie crisper) I threw in some kale and some asparagus. This turned into a really nice hearty soup, and the sliced seitan sausages made a nice chewy addition scattered atop. 

One of the perks of this month has been learning how to cook new things, and in particular, I’m finally starting to understand kale. Yes, it’s super nutritious and a good source of calcium and other vitamins, but because I had no idea how to cook it before I was like “Why does everyone love this tough, bitter thing??” Soooo apparently you need to remove the stalks (at least the thicker base parts), or if you want to eat the stalks you need to cook them for a really long time because otherwise (as I found out) they are really fibrous and hard to eat. I now know how to cook kale so that it’s actually edible. Thanks, internet!

Day 26: There were heaps of leftovers from all my cook-ups this week so I just foraged from the fridge for the day - I feel like I’ve definitely got the hang of making a few meals ahead and having a few key ingredients that make for easy and relatively healthy snacks. I’m finding that even on the days where I don’t think I’ve been as conscious of trying to balance my meals, I still seem to be getting almost 100% of my RDIs for protein, iron, calcium and other vitamins according to the tracking I’ve done with Cronometer. That said, I’m sure it’s not 100% accurate, because it makes assumptions about things you enter - like thinking my soy milk is fortified with B12 when it isn’t.  Cronometer (or any app for that matter) is not going to be flawless, but it’s definitely a helpful guide in making sure I’m not accidentally very deficient in anything.  Now that I’m more familiar with the kinds of foods that are going to provide the range of nutrients I need on a daily basis, I feel comfortable that I can make good choices and achieve a good balance of nutrition myself, but it’s still handy to be able to check how things are stacking up on occasion.

Day 27: I woke up feeling like pancakes for breakfast, and because I was working from home I had the flexibility to cook this morning. I found this recipe for apple pie pancakes from NikkiVegan and decided to give it a go. I didn’t have the chickpea flour she used in the recipe, so I just went with 1 cup whole wheat flour, and 1 cup white wheat flour. I also added a little bit of dark brown sugar and maple syrup to the pancake mix, along with a pinch of salt. I reduced the amount of baking powder to about 1 tablespoon, and used less maple syrup with the apple compote (probably about 1/4 cup instead of the 3/4 cups in the original recipe). Since I had added a little bit of sweetness to the pancakes themselves, I didn’t feel like I needed to use so much syrup in the topping. These turned out AMAZING! They were seriously the fluffiest, tastiest pancakes I’ve ever had! Just look at them!!

SO. FLUFFY. This is 3 small pancakes stacked on top of each other, but it literally looks like a slice of cake. I mean technically it is cake, but I have never seen a pancake this fluffy before! The flax eggs worked very well, and added some bonus ALA/Omega 3 goodness. I’m not oil-free so I did add a dash of canola oil to the pan, and cooked the pancakes on medium-low heat so the middle had time to cook through before the outside got overdone. These were really filling, so 3 pancakes turned out to be one too many for me. The good news is they keep great, I just covered the cooked leftover pancakes and put them in the fridge, then heated them for 1 minute in the microwave the next day and they were just as good. FYI our microwave is weird so if you have a normal microwave 30 seconds might even be enough. Or you can probably reheat them in a pan on low-medium heat for 30 seconds to a minute on each side.

Friday night I did some shopping in the city for a birthday present, and then we went to a friend’s farewell drinks. On the way home the boyfriend spotted a pop-up van at QV, so it was DOUGHNUT TIME! They have vegan doughnuts, so we got a Fairy Godmother and a Pump Up The Jam. Both were very yummy, but hooooooooooooooooly heck! So. much. sugar! Starting AND ending the day with cake is probably not a great strategy for health in the long term, but in the short term it was very enjoyable. Just goes to show you can eat healthily or unhealthily as a vegan, so it just comes down to making the choices that make you feel good in the long run.

 Day 28: It was Saturday so we slept in and had leftover pancakes for breakfast, then went to our friend’s birthday party and had fun exploring Brimbank Park. I like their random giant animals and vegetables, and their Auslan and Braille Alphabet signs:

I wanted to do another batch cook for the week this afternoon, so I made a brown lentil shepherd’s pie with a base of onions, carrots, celery, fennel and vegan beef-style stock. I added tomato paste and dried porcini mushrooms for extra flavour, and it turned out really well! It was also a very good way to use the bag of potatoes that had been sitting in our pantry for the last couple of weeks!

 I also made some vegan pizza, using a quick, no cook pizza sauce recipe I originally saw on America’s Test Kitchen. You can find the quick pizza sauce recipe with notes here - it uses a blender or food processor, but you could also just use diced/crushed tomatoes instead, or cut up the whole peeled tomatoes and mash them together with the other ingredients. To top the pizza I caramelised some red onion, scattered on some chopped olives, and made a batch of fresh moxarella using this recipe from Vedged Out. There’s also a full recipe for vegan margherita pizzas at this link, so you’ll find a dough recipe and another (cooked) sauce recipe there too. The pizza was awesome - the moxarella gives you the stretchy gooey texture that makes melted cheese so enjoyable to eat, and it’s also very quick and easy to make if you have a blender. Just look at this cheezy goodness...

 And that’s it for week 4! Even though there’s only a few days to go of my month-long vegan challenge, I’m honestly not holding out for anything, because I really don’t feel like I’ve been missing out at all. I’ve really enjoyed being able to experiment and cook different foods, and overall I’ve felt really good. Although this weekend was pretty junk-foody, overall I’ve definitely been eating more vegetables and wholegrains than I previously was, and my energy levels and digestion have been pretty great. Those are probably the main changes I’ve noticed so far health-wise, but I’ll do a proper wrap up at the end of the month. Bye for now!