#also I’m gonna need you to kindly ignore the hole in that one tree

[krashlite]

Some color+BG practice featuring Ren and Martyn (who totally aren't cryptid coded here noooooo shhh)

2nd version under the cut!

[sweetbunpura]

Meeting the Headmistress.

Here it is, I wrote a fic featuring my OC’s that’s based on the Headmistress Rosehearts AU that @adrianasunderworld and @mangacupcake (sorry for the @’s just in case). The AU has held my intresest and given me these ideas as to how my OC’s would react hearing or interacting with Mother Rosehearts.

Enjoy!

Also OC bios will be added in at the end of the fic.

No response.

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“Excuse me.”

“Excuse me.”

A single ear flick but no response.

“Excuse me, young man!”

J.J. growled and opened his eye, peering down at the woman standing at the base of the tree who was looking up at him with folded arms and a tapping foot. Her short hair a shade of red that reminded J.J. of his dorm leader, she wore a dark red pants suit with a white undershirt. Her large silver eyes stared holes into the student.

“What.” Came the near snarl from the 4th year.

The woman looked offended. “How dare you speak to me in that tone.”

“How else am I gonna speak to you?” He snapped, red and black eyes glaring at her.

“In a proper and respectful tone,” She placed a hand over her chest in a way that mimicked Riddle. “Is the correct way to address your headmistress.”

“Headmistress?” A thin black eyebrow raised as J.J. moved away from the upper trunk his back was against. “You ain’t our headmaster.”

She smiled almost smugly. “I am now and you shall address me as Headmistress Rosehearts.”

‘Rosehearts... shit, she’s Riddle’s mother.’ J.J. nonverbally groaned and felt his body slump it’s way out of the tree, where he landed on his feet in front of her.

Rosehearts grimaced. “Must you be so uncouth?” 

“Where’s Crowley?”

“Gone. The students here need to be properly taught and he wasn’t doing his job. Which is evident because you’re the only 4th year still on campus.”

“Evan came back, didn’t he? So why am I being singled out?”

“Because you’re the only one with a track record.”

J.J. snorted. “So you know me?”

“I read your file. You’ve caused quite a few problems, for the school and for my son.”

The fae opened his mouth but shut it, choosing instead not to say anything about Riddle’s overblot. “So, if that’s the case, why come to me?”

“I’m introducing myself to all the dorms here and you weren’t at the meeting Riddle called.”

J.J. shrugged. “Whoops.”

“Such flagrant disregard for the rules!” She screeched, causing J.J. to flinch from the sound. “How could your parents have raised a child such as yourself? Surely they must not know a thing about parenting.”

“Hey.” The 4th year glared. “My parents raised me just fine, thank you very much. And I don’t take kindly to someone insulting them.”

“It’s not an insult if it’s fact.”

J.J. felt something inside him snap and he let out a growl, smoke passing through his clenched teeth. “Listen here-”

“Mother.” Riddle has chosen at that time to appear. “Shouldn’t you be off to the other dorms?”

“I had to find this ruffian first and reprimand him for his rule breaking. Shouldn’t you have taught him better by now, Riddle?”

“I’m sorry, but he’s been... very adamantly against the rules. I’m teaching him to respect them more.” Riddle sent J.J. a look, eyes telling him to calm down before he sets anything on fire. “Go on and apologize to the Headmistress, J.J.”

J.J. crosses his arms in a huff and snarls out a “Sorry.”

Rosehearts seems to take it as she announces she’s leaving and makes her way to the Heartslabyul mirror. The pair watch as she departs before Riddle turns to J.J.

“J-”

“Don’t. Nothing you say could make what she said hurt any less.”  His eyes moved towards his dorm leader. “Then again... like mother, like son.” He turned on his heel and made his way into the dorm, completely ignoring Riddle’s attempts to call him back.

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“Heard the new Headmistress is causing problems for the dorm leaders.”

“I heard she forced Shroud to start attending classes without his tablet.”

Xavier listened to the various whispers around him as he looked through a selection of books at the library. He thumbed through a few of them before the whispers got too distracting and he left. Dusk had hit Sage Island as the 1st year began his trek back to the Scarbia dorm. Students passed by him, a few called his name which he gave a simple wave and a smile in return. Passing by Sam’s shop, a familiar voice called out to him. 

“Yo Xav!”

Xavier stopped and turned, seeing someone sprint up towards him from the shop. His long navy hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and he wore the dorm uniform of Octavinelle. His mouth was stretched in a wide smile, showing up his rose of sharp teeth. His gray eyes were bright and happy as he slowly approached him.

“Hello, Rascal. Are you picking up stuff for the Lounge?”

“Nah, I just got off and I didn’t have time to change cause I forgot to pick something up from Sam’s.” Rascal waved a bag up before looping an arm around Xavier as best as he could. “Where ya coming back from?”

“The Library. I was studying but the whispers got too much for me.”

“Eh, I guess. Dude,” Rascal leaned forward. “The Headmistress is a total dictator though. All this stuff she’s making the ghosts and the teachers do, like yikes man.”

“Hmm.”

“I’d hate to have a mom like that for real. I mean my mom can get a little too much sometimes, but Rosehearts has to deal with that every time he comes home and stuff.”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” Xavier sighed. “I’d like to go an hour without thinking about this stuff.”

“Right, right, sorry.” Rascal leaned away from him and the two walked in silence for a bit before he spoke up again. “Hey, wanna come over and play some cards or play games or-”

“You two!”

The pair of them froze as a yell came from behind them, followed by the telltale sounds of heels clicking against the pavement. Both of them slowly turned to face Headmistress Rosehearts in all her fiery glory.

“Mr. Gallucci.” She spoke, hands on hips as she stared at Rascal.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Why did I hear a report of you casting illusion spells on students to make them see giant spiders?”

“Just a prank.” Rascal laughed but stopped upon seeing Roseheart’s glare grow in intensity. 

“I’ve come to confiscate what’s in the bag.”

“Uh, no.” Rascal put the bag behind him. “That’s my business and not yours.”

“How dare you!”

“Ma’am.” Xavier stepped in. “His brother asked him to pick up some medicine due to him not feeling good. If we’re late in delivering it-”

“And you are?”

“Huh?” Xavier blinked in confusion at being interrupted. “X-Xavier Soria.”

“Soria... Soria...” She frowned. “You’re the son of the Ruffians who live to the south of Queendom, aren’t you?”

“R-Ruffians? My parents aren’t anything of the sort, ma’am.”

“I beg to differ. That stuff they call ‘music’ is nothing more than attracting the bad side of the Queedom. The riff raff side.” 

“My parents make wonderful sounding music, ma’am. They bring joy and happiness to the people who listen.”

“And poison their brains. They can spend their time being more productive.”

Xavier frowned and closed his purple eyes in an effort to calm himself down. He felt Rascal reach out and grab his hand.

“If that’s what you think of my family, Headmistress, then I am sad to hear that. Now if you’ll excuse me and Rascal, we’ll be on our way back to our dorms.” Xavier all but pulled Rascal away and made a fast track towards the hall of mirrors.

“Xav-”

“How dare she speak that way about my family.” He muttered. “They’ve done amazing things for the Queendom, donated to multiple charities, and did a non-profit concert to help those in need. And then she insults them, right to their son’s face.” 

“Xavier, calm down.”

Xavier sighed and let go of Rascal’s hand, choosing instead to drag them through his light brown hair and fiddle with his braid. “I’m sorry, she just... had no right.”

“Want to come over? Or I’ll come over to your place, maybe we could hold our own mini concert?”

“I’d... I’d like that.”

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“She’s getting out of hand.” Rouge muttered to themselves as they watched Rosehearts reprimand a set of Savanaclaw students in the hallway. “Wish someone would just put her in her place already.”

They turned on their heel and quickly walked away before they could be spotted by the Headmistress. Alast they weren’t fast enough as they heard their name being called.

“Rouge Willow.”

“Damnit.” Their ears fell as they turned to face her. “Yes?”

“You and the other one attached to you-”

“Ruggie.”

“Yes, him. Are the pair of you not Kingscholar’s caretakers?”

“Caretaker is a strong word.” Rouge crossed their arms as their tail flicked behind them. “Why?”

“It seems he didn’t heed my warning about going to classes.”

“To be honest, miss, not even Ruggie and I can get him to do that on a good day.”

She made a sound of exaggeration. “I see. So it would seem I have to cancel any Spelldrive-”

“Woah, woah, cancel?” Rouge blinked. “All because Leona ain’t going to class? Ain’t that a little extreme?”

“One must be punished for not heeding when warned.”

“But one person?”

“Yes. This is how it works in the real world, Willow.”

“Yeah but don’t punish the whole pack for one bad hunter.”

She stared at them. “You and Bucchi said the exact same thing.”

“Cause we’re both right.”

“Sure, you are. I may refrain from shutting down the club if you and Bucchi get Kingscholar to his classes. Am I understood?”

“....Crystal.” 

“Perfect, and one more thing. You and Bucchi get proper fitting uniforms.”

“This is all we could afford, Ruggie and I don’t come from a place of money, yea know.” 

“NRC is a prestigious school, they don’t need people like you and Bucchi weighing it down.”

 Rouge let out a faint growl and their ears fell sideways as they watched her walk away. “Yeah, she needs to go.”

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Goliath adjusted the flowers in his vase while he hummed to himself. Next to him, sitting on the floor, was Night. The Diasomnia student, snapped photo after photo of the various flowers the pair of them had managed to find on this last hike the mountain lovers club had gone through. The pair had already bid a farewell to Jade as he had left earlier to attend to stuff at the Lounge. 

“Goliath?” Night’s soft voice broke through the peaceful night in the botanical garden.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of the new headmaster?”

“I have not spoken to her yet, but from what Rascal has told me, she is not good.”

“I’ve heard bad things too. But I can’t speak ill of her.”

“Mmmh.” Goliath put the finishing touches on his arrangement and snapped a picture of it. “Then don’t. I’ve heard she’s been catching students who talk bad about her and giving them detention.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I heard it from a few in my dorm.”

“I see...”

The pair began to pack everything up and headed to the hall of mirrors, quietly chatting to one another as they did.

“You two are certainly out late. I believe the curfew was an hour again.”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. Rosehearts sood in front of them, blocking their path back home. Night shrank back, and fearfully glanced up at Goliath.

“Our apologies, Headmistress, we were busy finishing up some projects. It shall not happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” She paused and stared at him. “You wouldn’t happen to be the brother of one Rascal Gallucci, would you?”

“I am.” Goliath spoke firmly.

“Atleast your parents raised one of their sons correctly.”

Goliath gripped the vase in his hands and took a deep breath. “Our parents raised us to be ourselves, Headmistress.”

“Well your brother was raised wrongly it would seem.”

Goliath handed Night the vase before he could break it. “Forgive me for speaking up, but perhaps every parent is different in how they raise their children. Some raise theirs to be perfect while others raise their children to be happy.”

Her eyes narrowed, sensing the jab at her parental skills. “What was that, Mr. Gallucci?”

“Simply using an example, clearly not one that happens to be true after all.”

Night hid his smile behind the vase, knowing that Goliath was basically insulting Rosehearts to her face but in a more polite way.

“Get back to your dorms.” Was all she said as she stormed off past them.

“Goliath, that was mean.” Night teased and handed the vase back to him.

“And yet it was the truth. I can see why Rascal does not like her, insulting families left and right without a care in the world. I simply feel bad for Riddle now, to live with such an unpleasant mother.”

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Evan crossed his legs in the plush chair in the Pomefiore Lounge as he listened to the complaints of his fellow 4th year.

“And then Rosehearts, Riddle by the way, says he’s basically training me to follow the rules!” Evan ducked as J.J.’s tail lashed around. “And sevens! It made me so pissed, I could've transformed right there and bitten her head clean off!”

“Think of the mess that would’ve caused, my dear.”

“Yeah, but who would’ve missed her?”

“Riddle, the Queedom once they learned their prestigious doctor was murdered by a dragon fae.” 

“Oh please, I’d probably be doing him a favor.”

“You’re saying that because you’re angry.”

J.J. growled. “And how are you so calm about this!?”

“Because I haven’t had a negative interaction with her yet.”

“Cause you haven’t run into the she-devil.”

“Oh I have, multiple times in fact. She seems to believe I'll help her whip the school into shape. How naïve of her.” Evan messed with his long white braid that hung over the side of his right shoulder. “I work for no one but myself.”

“There’s the manipulative asshole.” J.J. slumped down in the chair across from Evan and used his tail to point at him. “Can’t you and Schoenheit get rid of her? Or hell even Draconia or Kingshcolar? You guys got lawyers, they’re princes. Surely you can figure something out.”

“Regrettably, she hasn’t broken any major laws yet. She’s keeping everything above the books, not a single hair out of place.”

“So...” The fae leaned forward. “We just gotta make her do something illegal, right?”

“J.J., at the rate she’s going, I predict she’s bound to hit a lawsuit somewhere. I mean the worst she could do is shut off all communication we have with the outside world.”

“Ain’t that illegal?”

“For us? No. For the 2nd and 1st years? maybe, given they still need to be able to contact their guardians in case something goes wrong.” Evan smiled. “And my, have things gone wrong in our absence. Truly a shame, since it looks like the school won’t contact the guardians about the things happening here.”

“Damn, even out on tour, you never missed a beat, did you?”

“J.J., no one messes with my cute underclassmen and my darling without something happening to them in return.”

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Night Alexander

Rouge Willow

Xavier Soria

Rascal Gallucci

Goliath Gallucci

J.J. Tulgey

Evan Montgomery

[shoot-the-oneshot]

DIRTY

Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: language and slight violence

He hated her, he hated her the second she walked into his station all chummy chummy with the mayor, who he’s been trying to get down here for a face to face for ages. Having the current mayor on his side would definitely help him when election comes back around. Lee plasters on a fake smile when the pair get to his office door, pulling his duty belt up a bit higher from where it’s fallen.

“Mayor, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He stood, shaking the older mans hand ignoring the woman all together, she was wearing one of their uniforms so he figured if she’s a new deputy she would learn who runs this show and if she didn’t well, he could show her himself one night on patrol. While he wasn’t looking forward to having a girl around a female officer on the department would look great to the voters, he silently thought.

“Bodecker, I think it’s high time we have a talk,” the mayor stated making himself way to comfortable in his office. The brief thought that he knew of his extra curricular activities ran through the sheriff’s head. But Lee knew how the real world worked if anything the mayor should be shaking his hand in appreciation for keeping this shit hole safe, the whole town should in his opinion.

“Now Lee, I know this won’t be easy to hear so I’m just gonna’ come out with it. Miss Y/L/N, is taking over your position as sheriff.”

If Lee wasn’t so appalled at the new information he would’ve seen the shock on the womens face as well. But he was to locked in on the mayor to notice. But for once he took his sister’s advice and took a deep breath, surly it wasn’t what he thought and instead the man was presenting him with the news that Lee himself was taking over as mayor and of course he couldn’t be in the role of sheriff if he were to take over. That had to be it, Lees work had finally paid off. All those late nights in the company of meaningless women would end, he’d have to find a sweet girl to fit the image of a mayors wife. That might be hard to do in this small town but he’d figure it out. He was pulled from his inner planning as the mayor rose from his seat.

“I’m sure you can find a new desk out there and clear this office out for the new sheriff in town!” The old man stated proudly patting the girl on the back, who herself had just met eyes with Lee. Now she has locked eyes with many criminal in her time but she had never seen anger quite like his in this moment. Her back involuntarily straightening had the loud bark he let out.

“What!”

“Now Lee,” the mayor started, expecting an outburst, Quickly getting cut off.

“No! Do you know what I have done for this fuckin’ town? This is an elected position, one I’ve won two times over and you’re gonna’ hand it over to some bitch!”

Lee snarled his hands coming down hard on the desk filling the small office with a sharp clap.

“As mayor I can over rule an election when the elected falls short. And you have been for a while Lee, crime rates have gone up and closed cases going down. Does that sound like a good sheriff to you?”

The only sound in the room being Lee’s huffs like an angry bull when you entered its pin. Which Y/n had felt like that’s exactly what she had unknowingly done.

“The conversation is over, leave us be deputy.”

If Lees jaw could clench any harder it’d surly break. Glaring at the girl as he roughly pushed past her, the whole station hearing the argument between the two and was watching as Lee treaded to a nearby desk barking at the watchers as he went.

“Show’s over get back to your jobs!”

“Yes sherif-deputy”

The assistants sputtering only angered Lee more. Finally the mayor left and you came out of his-your office.

“I understand what a shock the must’ve been to you all, believe it or not it was to me too.” Her eyes shot over to Lee hoping he wasn’t to angry still, he was. “Anyway I know you all have a way of doing things and I’m not here to change anything so let keep up the good police work.”

The months following were rough for the ex sheriff, he never had gotten used to being sent out to deal with house parties that got to loud and the case of Mrs.Jenkins, missing poodle. That was a deputys job not his, no matter what his new title was. And you hadn’t made his time any easier.

Miss Y/n Y/l/n, at first she had tried to make friends with him and the rest of the deputies, him being the only one resisting. After finally giving up she began what he believed was a game of ‘how angry can I make Lee today’ sendin’ him out on those joke cases, all while eating his candy he had in his old office.

And to make matters worse the entire town was practically smitten with her, her sweet looks but hard hand on the crime in the area had won their hearts the crime rate dropping ninety percent in the first three months of her arrival. He had went to the library and dug up some newspaper about her, a hotshot detective from Cincinnati who was hailed a hero there after taking down a mob family, after that arrest the department saw how valuable female officers could be and she was no longer the only one within that department and hearing her success many departments followed in suit. And then she suddenly quit after making such a big name for herself So what was she doing here in this tiny town?

—————-

Knockemstiff, West Virginia. The large welcome sign reads as you drove past the trees flying by as blurs of green, the nature will take some getting used to as you didn’t have much in the city. It reminds you of the tiny potted plant you mother got you for your office when you made detective. It was a long, hard road to get there which makes leaving that much worse. You were at the highest of your career being the only women was rough the men didn’t respect you officers and criminals alike, you had to work ten times harder to make your mark and as ironic as it was when you hit that big break that’s when it all went down hill.

And here you are starting all over again and you figured it would be harder to earn the smalls towns respect. But it would all be worth it when you caught the guy you’ve been looking for. Your old boss had made a few calls when he learned your plans to chase leads on the road and one of the calls had been to the mayor of the town when he asked you to meet him at the sheriffs office you were shocked to hear you’d be taking over. You weren’t however when Lee continued to hate you for months to come, everyone said that’s just how he is but you know it was the sting of losing his position. It didn’t take you long to find out he had been dirty it was almost embarrassing how transparent it was.

But you knew if you were going to make any headway in this town when the time came you’d need someone who knew the ins and outs like Lee did, so you kept trying to get on his good side even noticing he liked sweets and breaking out the fancy ones you had from the city, you got the message quick when he threw them away staring right at you. You had one last trick up your sleeve, back in Cincinnati you partner always said cops and criminals aren’t that different it’s just the way they think. so that’s what you’ll do.

Grabbing your hat you walked out of your office boots clacking as you walked past his desk the gold name plate shining as the sunlight breaks through the windows.

“Come on Bodecker, you’re driving” you toss the keys to the cruiser over your shoulder, you know he’s following because you can feel his glare on the back of your head. You spoke as Lee slammed his door shut the car shifting under his weight a bit.

“Low level pot growers slash dealers on the outskirts of town this is their third warning.” Lee grunts is response and started driving the ride was uncomfortable to say the least.

“I know you read up on me I’m sure you have something to say about it?” Taking the glance he shot you out of the corner of his eye as a yes you continue.

“And I’m sure it’s along the lines of why I’m here?” Cue side glance again, “well when I started looking into the Galindos they didn’t take to kindly to that, they send some guys to my parents house when their threats didn’t stop me, it was completely by chance I was at their house when they came it was a big gun fight. Killed one but the others got away and they are the only members of the mafia still out there, I got the tags off the car they used and tracked it to here.”

You’d been parked outside the farm house for the last part of your story so you stepped out the car and rounded to the drivers side leaning down to meet Lees eyes through the open window.

“I want you to know I never wanted to take your position, I also know you were dirty when you were sheriff. So let’s make a deal.”

You can see him take in the information you’ve thrown at him during the short car ride, and he subtly nods “what’s the deal?”

“I know you’re not my biggest fan, but we can help each other. So deal is if you follow me we start over and you help me find the last Galindos no matter how dirty it gets.” You paused letting it sink in. “And if you don’t want to, leave me here and drive back to the station and we will never speak again, but I also won’t hold back on arresting your old buddies and we’ll see how fast they throw you under the bus.”

His eyes which you just now noticed were blue narrow at your words. Looks like country boy knows he would go down faster than milk with cookies if they got arrested. Tipping your hat you spin on your heel and head towards the run down farm house, your lips pull up hearing the car door shut behind you as his footfalls rushing to catch up.

“Didn’t think an officer of your caliber would resort to blackmail.” He grunts, as much as he hates that you’re right he also respected you a tiny bit now, lord know what he covered up for Sandy, so he understands the familial bond that you’re doing this for.

“That wasn’t blackmail, blackmail would be leaking those pictures of you on duty with a girl in your patrol car as you unload into a Pepsi cup.”

Now that made Lee pause in his steps, how the hell did she know that, he hasn’t had a girl around since she popped in. “Yeah I’ve been in town a while.” The pair make it to the paint chipped door, the deputy still slightly stunned but jumping back into action as you kicked the door down without so much as a knock first, Well that’s not protocol. The few men in the the house jump up at the sudden intrusion but are quickly pushed back down with a swift kick to the chest from you.

You know who you’re looking for you’ll leave the rest to Lee, grabbing the boy still sat at the table by his hair and yanking him face first on the floor as he yelped, knee pressing down on his back pulling his head back by your grip on his ponytail. “I’m not here for you.” Your snarled leaning down to his ear, throwing down a baggie with the families grower logo that you found outside your family home. “Next time you see the Galindos you tell them there’s a new sheriff in town.” Barley aware of the deputy entering the room you slammed the mans face down, blood already pouring out of his nose and onto the floor, that’s gonna’ stain.

Not casting Lee a glance as you strolled past him and back to the car, him on your heels, he definitely wasn’t expecting that from you. But he’d be a liar if it didn’t turn him on a bit you know what they say, the line between hate and lust is thin. At least that’s how it goes in his head.

He takes the long way back to the station wanting extra time to think how to ask his question. “You really have pictures of me?”

You looked over when you heard his gruff voice. Oh now he want to have a conversation. “I knew I’d need help with my investigation, you willing or not.”

“And how did you know I was dirty and wouldn’t have arrested you for that show back there?”

Did he think you were stupid, there were thousands of signs you just admitted to following him did he think you didn’t see his dealings. “You’re not the first crooked cop I’ve met, you let your ego get ahead of you, you were sloppy the signs were everywhere, plus.” You couldn’t help the smirk from on. “I never gave you the dealers address.”

Lee couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping his mouth, she was smart he’d give her that. “You know I think this is the beginning of a great partnership deputy, perhaps even friends.” You tease him smiling as he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me that!”

“No problem.....deputy.”

[leatherbookmarking]

hello! as you might have noticed i changed my icon. it’s a-yao now

celebratory headcanons/concepts™ from twitter (mostly xiyao/sanzun):

1. after the first occasion jgy gets to kiss him as much as he likes, poor lxc has to wear a face mask because he looks... concerning.

someone’s like oh, did you catch a cold? lxc (thinking about his boyfriend passionately committing to his "someone tried to eat my face" look): haha yes, one iced coffee too many ^__^

2.  a concept: jgy, a person who absolutely intertwines his legs with lxc's when they're about to sleep, to the point that lxc isn't entirely sure which legs are his, only to disentangle himself away 15 minutes later because Hot

a-yao is Small and thus automatically a pre-sleep wiggler. one leg under the cover, the other on top of it. no, gotta change them. the cover is too hot, hot move. turn over. spread legs. bend leg. dangle one feet over the edge of the bed. hmm, walls are cold. leg on wall

lxc, hoarsely: a-yao. love of my life. my sun and stars. my little goldcrest. I am going to tie you to the bedpost in a non-recreational way

jgy, who has melted away after "love of my life": (gently wraps the vines of his person around the post of lan xichen's sexy torso)

3. sometimes (always) i think about modern jiggy being a dancer and sometimes (always) i imagine him moving something like mr taemin out there. like this kind of... fluid grace. he traces an arc in the air with his hand and it's like drawn with a protractor. every minuscule movement is planned. add his controlled expressions to this and you've got a What The Fuck How Is He Real

4.  in a scenario where xiyao elope (no i will not shut up. ever), what do people think about the situation? gotta be "jgy, the EVIL FUCK, has kidnapped our beacon of light and goodness, zewu-jun!"

"but two men similar to them have been spotted in some places, and they appear friendly with each other... so..."

"witchcraft! jin guangyao has controlled zewu-jun's mind! who knows if he didn't turn him into a fierce corpse!"

the first person to find them fucking under a tree sure is in for a, let's say, surprise

5. thought of the day: meng yao deserved a big ass head piece. and silver in his hair. those little chains like jin ling had, that clink quietly when he moves his head. meng yao deserved to be as decked out as possible in gusu lan sect! and for people to look at him and see just how precious he is to sect leader lan!

lan-fujun... when he walks into the room, it's like a silver-white river nymph came to live among humans 

(on the other hand: meng yao thinking about his mother. and about himself, as a child, dreaming of being accepted by his father, a powerful cultivator. they'd be free, and meng yao would become a great cultivator too, and give his mother the prettiest rooms, the best clothes, the most delicious food, anything she wants. she would never need anything, because she'd have everything. that's how it would be, and he, meng yao, will make sure of it!)

6. MODERN AU BUT BAXIA IS A POMERANIAN.

i was thinking black/tan because nie colors, BUT if she was white, it would add to the wonderful contrast... or sable. you know, because sabre... sable... not funny? sorry. look at the cute dog though

i'm not saying nmj is from the 'hey i am a big burly man with a tiny dog' school of hitting on people. BUT it is a fact that when he's having someone over for a fuck, he likes to see confusion and terror flash in their eyes as he tells them he wants to introduce them to the most important woman in his life just. i just think that would be neat (he likes to observe people before he invites them over. just to figure out if they would be that kind of person who has to be reminded why they're here. not that he's against baxia getting love! just,)

something something maybe he got her to learn to be more gentle because his early life left him a blunt and unapproachable. OR MAYBE it was a gift from huaisang? so he can have someone to take care of when he moves out? (nmj: oh, so you ARE moving out? nice! when? nhs:          )

anyway they often converse. as in, nmj always kindly asks her not to nibble on things and in most cases, she obliges. but sometimes someone forgets to take their socks out of their shoes and they smell SO DELICIOUSLY, a lady has to have her pleasures, alright? "buy her chewing toys" oh? so she graces them with one scathing look and ignores them forever? this woman's most precious item is mingjue's old sock, with holes on both the toe and heel area. he's tied it in a knot. she usually carries it to her preferred places of Chewing but always remembers to bring it back to her bed for the night. one night jgy gets up to get a glass of water and sees nmj, with baxia on the countertop, two socks in front of her. "THIS one is good", nmj says patiently, pointing, "and THIS one is a no" she bites down on the latter

nie "i get nothing but disrespect from small dogs and people under 180cm" mingjue

if baxia doesn't like someone, he automatically Doesn't Trust Them. baxia has a very love/hate relationship with jgy. initially she was very waggy about him. then at some point she grew cold

is it a new cologne she doesn't like? he tries bringing her snacks. she nibbles at them for a minute then abandons them w/ no care. she walks away from him when he's using a cute voice and feigns deafness when he's speaking normally. there can only be ONE tiny thing in this house

(sometimes nmj Squints at jgy but jgy is Trying, and it's rather entertaining to see him on the floor, dog hair on his pants, ruthlessly ignored by 2kg of Fuck You. so)

(xichen, of course, has her unending adoration, although, of course, she loves mingjue the best)

...how does she treat huaisang? i'm thinking With Enthusiasm. he looks friendly! he makes fun noises when you surprise bark at him! truly a man worth playing with. she expresses that opinion by lovingly biting his toes. sometimes he accidentally walks into her. woe! woe!! Father, help!!! Violence! Hate!!

@xiyao-feels: I just have this image of like. Her being out with NHS and seeing another dark and starting to bark furiously and try to attack because she must! Defend! NHS!

(making her stop is a work in progress, nhs is very protectable) i had a dog that, due to Circumstances, wasn't socialized properly, so she'd bark at every dog she met. she was small but she DID scare some friendly big dogs away. "why is this tiny thing shouting :("

....sometimes when she yaps at jgy, jgy... yaps back, mockingly. and then it BEGINS (at some point nhs records it and posts on yt as "pomeranians having a shouting match")  oh, no, it's fine! jgy understands. it was quite funny indeed. and the fact that for a month after that she gets into nhs' room to wake him up, or that his favourite t-shirts somehow are covered with dog hair? it's the draught, and the power of baxia's love :-)

xiyao-feels: He convinces NMJ that NHS really needs to learn more about how to handle a dog, and enrolls him in some training

"it's important that all household members get along :-)" he also blissfully records her doing her best to steal nhs' sock from his foot

nmj: see, that means she likes you!

nhs, sadly: no, da-ge. that means my toe hurts, and that i am one sock poorer

xiyao-feels:  JGY starts deliberately vanishing NHS' socks when doing laundry, blames Baxia They're probably really fancy. I don't know what really fancy socks even look like but I bet NHS does

probably very smooth and pleasant to wear. nhs likes to live fancy, after all. well, baxia likes that too now!! whatcha gonna do!! at some point someone (xichen) notices the whole house is just four grown up men giving regular sacrifice to a tiny bitchy dog. incredible

at some point they introduce her to jc's gals. it looks like this

[walkingchemicalfire]

The Stray

(July 3 prompt: love)

Hi everyone! Been a while since I’ve put up original content so here’s hoping y’all are still sticking with me 😬

I’ve had this piece in my head for a while and with the July challenge from @whumpmasinjuly I have successfully pushed my brain to get it into words! As you can see I also came up with a title! Yay me!

So some background for new people and for anyone who read my other 2 pieces in this universe (psst! You can find them on my blog under the tag #chem writes whump) This story is about a female werewolf Whumpee who was captured by humans and whump ensued. This part here is set a long while from then, after she is rescued or escapes, I’m not sure which yet. The female werewolf does not have a name in the other two pieces but now I know her name is Lyra. Cole is a male werewolf in the role of Caretaker. At this point they have made it to a safe facility and can now rest and recuperate from their time on the run.

I also created a Moodboard for Cole and Lyra:

Now without further ado: here’s some sweet fluff

CW: mentions of sedatives, touch starved whumpee

[[MORE]]

“She’s fighting the sedative”

Cole sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Alright, I’ll try to get her to settle down.”

“Is it safe to go in there? She seems very...”

Cole locked eyes with the nurse “What, dangerous?”

“Agitated” She replied and broke eye contact. She dutifully left him to enter the room alone.

Cole sighed heavily then slid the glass door open and stepped over the threshold.

Lyra is still in her wolf form, all the anxiety building up to the point of not Changing. He recalls how difficult it has been for her to Change even before all the stress of the last few days. The last time she did was so obviously painful that Cole had to Change too just so that she could regain her bearings. Having another wolf with her calmed her immeasurably.

Now of course is entirely different. It’s a new environment, new people, new smells, everything that could change has. Cole is most likely the only thing she’ll recognize as something from her time outside this place. Even though he knows it’s safe here, he can’t help but connect to the nervous energy coming off her in waves.

She’s pacing along the walls of the small room. She’s panting but keeps closing her mouth in an effort to relieve the dryness. The slide of the glass door alerts her to his arrival. She paused her endless loop to eye him briefly but quickly resumed the circuit when her vision began to wane again.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through the ground if you keep pacing like that.” She huffed in reply but otherwise ignored him. She altered her path slightly to not bump into him as she passed the wall with the door. She thought he might reach out and try to physically stop her but he stayed put as she passed.

“I know you’re scared. It’s ok, I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let them touch you. You just have to get some sleep.”

She looked at him fully then. Sleep was not something to be trusted. She knew she could trust Cole, he had yet to do anything that threatened her, but the idea of sleeping without protection of some kind terrified her. The times she slept before were times she woke up to unspeakable horrors. Anything could happen when she was unconscious.

He nodded as if he could read her mind. “It’s just sleep, I promise.” He made the motion of an X over his heart and smiled kindly. She remembered that from last time he had made a promise to her. He didn’t break it then either.

She felt her legs shaking under her and, realizing she had stopped her pacing, moved to keep it up. She shook her head forcefully as black spots comprised her sight.

“They gave you a lot of sedative, as much as you could handle actually, we’re all very shocked that you haven’t collapsed yet.” His tone changed to teasing with his next words. “Well everyone else is, I always knew you were too stubborn for your own good.” He smiled faintly. She felt her human’s amusement at his light jab. It was warm in her chest. She glanced over at him. He hadn’t stopped smiling, this time in encouragement.

“Tell you what, I’ll join you in your nap time. The Moon knows I could use it too.” He moved to the wall on his left and sat down with his back against it. He stretched his legs out straight in front of him. He patted the floor next to him. “Come on, Ly, I’ll protect you.” And that was all she needed to hear for her to give in.

She moved towards him, barely making it before her trembling legs gave out and she dropped to the ground. He was close enough to catch her head and shift her comfortably onto his lap. She thought he would put his hands back at his sides, or cross them over his chest like he did when she watched him sleep against the tree last time. But then she felt his palm run over her head in a steady and calming gesture. She tensed on the first couple of motions, but soon relaxed at the continuous movement over her short fur. It was oddly settling having someone touch her in kindness. She had almost forgotten that it was possible.

When his fingers bumped her ear she jumped, but not in fear. That had felt really good and she was surprised. Her ears were one of the most sensitive areas and this desire for more of his touch there was foreign.

Cole chuckled as he observed her reaction “Thought you might like that.” He focused his ministrations on the back of her ear and her entire body went lax, her eyelids began to grow heavy, head too heavy to move, limbs relaxing at her side. She looked up at him, asking for one final reassurance that he would take care of her.

He smiled softly. “It’s alright, Ly, I won’t leave you. Just rest.”

So she let herself slip into the darkness, comforted in the knowledge that Cole would be her shield while she was gone.

Tag Team: @whump-tr0pes @whumpywhumper @cursedscribbles @mymoon199 @0idril0 @sableflynn

[fanficreadingcorner]

Warmth

Author: Rachel

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Words: 4023

Masterlist

A/N: Ok guys this has literally taken me a good few months to write and I’m gonna be honest it might have gotten away from me and honestly I am so proud of it so I hope you guys like it.

Summary: The heater in the bunker is broken and it's the middle of winter. The reader can’t keep warm despite her best attempts. Time to call in reinforcements.

           ‘It’s fucking freezing’ were the only words currently invading your mind. Snuggling deeper into your blankets you readjust the blankets tighter around your shivering body. Doing a once over you were looking for any holes in your fortress that the cold air might be able to take advantage of and slip her cruel hands in, fingers wrapping around you, grasping in an unyielding hold. And yet no matter the 5 blankets you have on top of you, the countless mugs of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate that you’ve taken, nothing seems to warm you up, you’re beginning to wonder if you were even warm blooded at this point.

           “I’m a fake human” you mumble to yourself as another shivers moves its way through your body shaking you like a wind does a tree and it’s leaves during a particularly nasty storm. “Can’t even keep myself warm” the words being swallowed up by the fuzzy blanket that’s pulled up all the way up to your nose at this point. The bunker heater had chosen to break at the worst possible time, right when winter had her hand firmly placed over the northern hemisphere in what, as the news would so dramatically put it, was deemed the coldest winter in the last 10 years. Although was it really dramatic if it was the truth? The bunker wasn’t made for the cold, if anything it was made to make sure that in the summer it was comfortable to be in. The concrete keeping the temperatures down, especially considering it was underground and as a way to make sure that the humidity was mild enough.

           ‘Who the fuck designs something to only cater to one type of weather in the middle of the united states It’s not like we’re close to the equator where the temperature varies one to two degrees. OK maybe that was exaggerating it but to be fair you were pretty sure that you would be needing to amputate at least a toe after this harrowing ordeal you were going through, suffering through the cold like someone that was climbing Mount Everest. It was decided, when you died, if you ever saw any one who was responsible for the design of this place you would never leave them alone. Now that you thought about it, how did they keep warm before heaters were invented? Did they all sleep in the same room to share body heat? Maybe that’s why the war room was so big. You let out a very undignified snort at the thought of 20 men piled together just to share body heat.

           Readjusting yourself you came to the conclusion that you could not continue like this, how were you supposed to survive the following days to come until the boys came back from their hunt? You had already called them when the heater had broken about a day ago, and Dean had so kindly recommended, to take all the damn blankets in the house and tough it out until they were able to get back to fix it, well that wasn’t working out so well and they wouldn’t be coming home for another day or two.

           “Ugh” you groaned out the noise coming from deep inside your chest. “I can’t live like this, it’s too much” you groaned as you flopped down on your side, the amount of blankets cushioning your fall, unfortunately for you, you miscalculated, thus causing your blankets to ride up just over your ankles exposing you to the cruel mistress of death that is the cold.

           “GOD DAMMIT” You yelled while kicking the blankets up in frustration, tears welling up in your eyes, all you wanted was to be warm, was it too much to ask! After a few moments of fighting with the blankets you finally gave up lying face up, chest heaving from the exertion of kicking the blankets around with so much force to try to get your frustration out, tears pricking at the edges of your vision, worst of all you were still freezing and had kicked off the blankets in your battle to the death which they had apparently won considering most were on the ground and the one or two that did survive were too entangled in your legs to be of any use now that you were completely at the mercy of winters cold grasp. Groaning your reaching your hands up to cover your face while slowly dragging them down.

           “Is this how Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes felt when they were frozen during all that time cause damn now wonder they’re messed up” you spoke to yourself, hand muffling your words, making them almost unintelligibly. Once your hands finally made the long trek down your face, they then quickly took up residence on your side while you calmed down, talking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Biting your lip your quickly ran though several options, buy a heater? nah that would mean having to get dressed, leave the bunker and use money, plus you were sure it was colder outside than it was in here. Get more blankets, at the rate you were going it was possible the number of blankets needed to warm you up would crush you before doing any good. Wait! There was one option, but who knew if he would actually come and help you?

You could call Lucifer, but why bother him the poor archangel probably had enough on his plate as of recently thanks to having taken over heaven after Chuck and Michael went M.I.A, but it wouldn’t hurt to call right, I mean he was your boyfriend after all not to mention he had the most gorgeous pair of wings on his back, the only pair you had ever seen really but still, the way he held them up with pride, and rightly so they were huge, the black iridescence of his wings made them roll with the color of the rainbows when they shifted and yet they still kept the midnight black color that you had come to identify with Lucifer’s wings. You had always wanted to ask permission to touch them and yet had refrained from doing so thinking that they must only be a personal thing and you were nothing more than a friend.

           Well that was until about a year ago when you had started dating then and everything had changed, 3 years after the archangel had come back and proven that he had in fact changed that you started getting acquainted with him and feelings for him had blossomed faster than you thought possible, like a tulip coming up from the ground and growing quickly in late winter, yet much like the tulip feared for a later frost to come through thus quickly killing any progress it had made so quickly. You had feared that Lucifer would deny you should you choose to tell him of your feelings this early on in the friendship, you chose rather to bury your feelings content on having him as a friend for now, content to enjoy his company which did include it’s fair share of getting in trouble, some might say too much but you thought it was just enough, and it came with the added bonus of staring at his wings whenever he had his back turned. Why you always saw then, you never asked maybe he just trusted you enough to show them around you, but you would rather not ask least he rid you of such a beautiful sight.

           Up until today you hadn’t even thought of asking him to let you touch his wings, it just never seemed like the right time, it was almost like he purposefully made sure they avoided you, maybe it was just so that they didn’t hit you or make you feel uncomfortable but you had always wondered what it would be like to touch then, run your hands through his feathers, curl up with him while he had his wings wrapped around you. The violent shiver that shook your body quickly snapped you of your daydream, well looks like it’s now or never. Closing your eyes, you directed a quick prayer up to your boyfriend.

           ‘Hey Lucifer, so I know you might be busy, but I just had a favor to ask of you if, you know, you’re not too busy and might have some time to come visit me.” Almost immediately you were greeted with the sound of wings and a slight breeze that disturbed the frigid air around you causing more goosebumps, if that was even possible at this point, to prickle up on your skin while another shiver rolled through your body. You were quick to curl into yourself while you kept shaking and glanced over to the end of your bed where stood Lucifer in all his glory.

           “Well shit y/n, I’m not affected by the temperature but even I can tell the difference and darling it’s way too cold in here for you to be uncovered like this, what are you doing?” Lucifer’s voice was a mix of concern as well as amusement at seeing you obviously very uncomfortable.

           “You know what Lucifer if you’re not gonna be helpful then you can go fuck yourself” you muttered not only uncomfortable but also a little embarrassed right now at being found like this by Lucifer. You immediately curled into yourself to try to get warm since it looked like your boyfriend was not going to be as much help as you thought he was going to be. You let out a frustrated huff before another shiver moved through your already shaking body making you let out a small whimper of discomfort. Suddenly you felt the bed dip behind you and arms that you knew very well wrap around you instantly enveloping you in warmth that had your stiff muscles uncleaning almost instantly making you sigh out in relief. Lucifer took the opportunity to curl up around you and bury his face in your neck making you giggle slightly.

           “I’m sorry for making fun of you” he apologized while nuzzling your neck making you hum contently the amount of love pouring out of the angel towards you always made you melt in his arms. You honestly wouldn’t mind if you died right here and right now warm, loved and in the arms of which you loved. Alas winter was not to be ignored as a draft moved through the room, the slight coldness reminded you why you had even invited Lucifer over in the first place. Biting your lip you thought to yourself, maybe you could just ask that he cover both of you in blankets and call it good, that way you could be warm and then you wouldn’t risk destroying everything that you had built with him, but if it wasn’t now then when? Welp here goes nothing.

           “Hey Lucifer” you mumbled out, oh gosh you barely spoke up, maybe it was a sign from Chuck and maybe he hadn’t heard you, oh who were you kidding, he was an archangel, how could he not have heard you, it would take a miracle.

           “yeah sunshine?” he asked, damn well he had heard you, well now or never, how come you were so nervous all of a sudden? You had been so sure of yourself just a few minutes but as soon as those wings had come into your sight it had been like something had slapped you across the face.

           “I was wondering…” You trailed off, while bringing your cold feet up to rub against his legs in hopes you warming them as well. Suddenly it seemed like the wall on the farthest side of the room was the most interesting thing in the world, as you stared harshly at it while you gnawed on your lower lip with your teeth. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, blankets and his body heat were good enough, yeah that would be more than enough. You were suddenly pulled from your thoughts as delicate kisses were placed on your neck making you giggle and try to push Lucifer’s face away from you. “stop that tickles” you giggled again as he kept attacking your neck.

           “Only if you tell me what you were going to say” he mumbles in between his constant attack on your neck causing you to giggle louder.

           “Ok, ok! I’ll tell you but I can’t if your distracting me like this” You managed to get out while turning around to look at him. He brought his arm up to rest his head on it while looking at you expectantly. You took the time to just take him in for a little bit, he was gorgeous, how was it that this man was all yours.

           “Y/N” he mumbled effectively snapping you out of your love induced trance. Making your face heat up in embarrassment at being caught staring so openly at him, though who could really blame you. “If it makes you feel better” he started while slowly leaning closer into your face making your breath catch in your throat as his ice blue eyes looked into your eyes. “You hypnotize me too” he whispered right against your lips before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and withdrawing leaving your lips tingling, wanting for more. God this man was going to be the death of you. You quickly snuggled into his chest head resting right over where his heart was situated. While fisting a hand into his shirt, the cold all but forgotten in the love induced haze that Lucifer and brought onto you. You felt his arm tighten around you anchoring you more fully into the moment while his head rested on top of your but not before pressing a quick kiss to your head. If you could die like this, you most certainly would. Taking a deep breath you prepared yourself for what was about to come out of your mouth, not knowing what this was going to do to your relationship.

           “I know this is probably not the best time to ask and I know I’ve had more than enough times to ask this and, you know you really don’t have to feel obligated to say yes or anything I respect your boundaries and such because like what kind of relationship would this be if we didn’t respect each other, not a very good one I think” Your ramblings were cut off by a quick tight hug from Lucifer who then pushed up away a little bit to look at your face.

           “Darling, what has got you so riled up?” he asked, concern just barely lacing his voice, much like the cold barely gracing your toes, close to trying to take ahold of thing and yet still manageable. Taking a deep breath, you quickly spilled it out.

           “I want to touch your wings” you mumbled, while quickly lowering your head to trace patterns on his chest, just loud enough for you to hear but you were certain that Lucifer had heard you with his archangel hearing and such. Almost as soon as the words had left your mouth you felt Lucifer stiffen next and around you, almost as if someone had taken a dinner fork and stabbed him with it. Oh no, you knew this was a bad idea.

           You kept quiet letting Lucifer process your words are you continued to trace mindless patterns on his chest, hoping and praying that the worst he would say was no. You could feel him slowly relax around you but still you held your breath waiting for the answer that as sure to escape his lips any moment now, however what you were not expecting was another question.

           “Can you see my wings?” he asked softly, almost like a reverent whisper, at that you raised your head again to take a good look into his face. When looking over his face you saw two things, love and hope. While his question confused you a bit you decided that now would be just a good a time to come clean as any other. So, you nodded softly gauging his reaction hoping it wouldn’t mean the end of your relationship as you knew it. However when he rested his forehead against yours and kept eye contact with you, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief that at the very least he had not simply started with a no and left you there to suffer in the cold. He opened his mouth to speak again while you held your breath waiting for a question or an answer at this point you didn’t even know you. “How long?” were the only two words that left his mouth this time causing you to gulp loudly, oh well here goes nothing.

           “Since the first time I saw you” was your response, which elicited a deep warmth to overtake your face. Chuck why was he even asking this is so embarrassing. You hoped that he would answer quickly but as it seemed as he was taking his time making you more nervous. Burying your face in his chest you tried to hide your shame, you should have known that this wasn’t a good idea. You buried your face deeper into his chest and staying quiet letting him process the information while trying to warm yourself, hiding your embarrassment from Lucifer for obviously asking something very personal, ugh could this day get any worse?!

           Another shiver wracked your body causing Lucifer to tighten his hold on while he adjusted himself, what was he doing? You tried to move her face when you suddenly felt Lucifer bury his face in the juncture between your neck and shoulder and whispered softly against your skin, “wait”. So, you stop trying and just left your face in his chest and left him continue what adjusting himself until he was sitting and you were curled up on his lap. When suddenly you felt him bring his hand to your chin and tug slightly on it making you look up at him before he connected his lips to yours softly. In that simple act you swore you felt him try to convey all the love and emotion he could felt for you before pulling away slowly and resting him forehead against yours while his eyes locked onto yours, the intimacy of the situation could not be denied but the love that was felt from both of you and him had made your heart melt even more than before, if that was even possible, and your body relax even more from the constant state of tension it had been under due to the cold. When suddenly Lucifer spoke softly breaking the comfortable silence that have enveloped you both.

           “Father” he paused a bit, seeming to think on how exactly he wanted to phrase his next words. Being so close to him, forehead to forehead you could see the emotions flitting through his eyes. He swallowed loudly brought his hands up to caress your face, softly brushing his thumbs over your cheeks as he continued talking. “Father once said that when he created us, he created a perfect companion to us. Someone that would complement us wholly. He said that they were waiting for us somewhere, someplace, sometime, but that he never would tell us specifically where or when he just said that when the time came we would find them and they could literally be anything to us. Friend, child, mother, lover, anything.” He took a breath to watch you take the information in and process it making sure you were understanding before he continued. “We were worried that we would never be able to identify who this companion was due to the fact that of so many souls how were we to identify the person meant for us, so father took mercy on us and said I will allow you one way to be able to identify them and they will be able to identify you” at that Lucifer went quiet. All that was heard was your quiet breathing and your blood thumping through your ears. What was Lucifer getting at?

           Suddenly a new sound filled your ears, rustling, you quickly realized, the rustling of feathers. Then he was everywhere you realized surrounding you and him in your own little cocoon of warmth, your breath hitched while tears of joy filled your eyes, you could feel his brushing against you, the pieces were starting to click, was he saying what you thought you he as saying? Were you that to him? You tried to pull away to look at his wings but before you could he tightened his hold on your face making sure that your eyes were still focused on him and then swallowing loudly again he kept talking.

           “He told us” his voice breaking with emotion while you tried your best not to cry. “He told us that they would be able to see out wings without need for help” taking a breath you could no longer hold your tears in, the slowly starting to make their way down your face, as your suspicions were confirmed he was your, perfectly yours. Lucifer took the opportunity to wipe them away with his thumbs. “I never thought that someone so perfect would be made for me” he whispered while looking at you like you had created the universe itself. “I hope those are happy tears” he said after a pause. Immediately you started nodding as much as you possibly could while your face was trapped in his hands.

           “So happy” you said shakily from all the emotions running through you. Then slowly Lucifer released your face as if giving you permission to look now that he had explained everything. You slowly pulled away and slowly tuned to look around you. Bringing a hand up to your mouth you stifled a sob at what you saw. Obsidian Black wings that were still touched by the iridescence that simultaneously gave them every color of the rainbow while also drowning in black. You reached out to touch them but suddenly you stopped not wanting to overstep your boundaries. It seemed that Lucifer felt your uneasiness because he took his hand and pushed yours forward into his feathers. As soon as your hand touched his feathers you let out an elated giggle. You never thought you would be here, that he would let you touch his feathers let alone basically tell you that he was your soulmate.

           “They’re so soft” you whispered turning to look at him, hand deeply buried in them. He smiled at you before bringing his wings closer around you two so that you were not only warmer but now cuddled up against his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before he rested his cheek against yours while your hand kept running through the long feathers.

           “I sure hope they are soft” he started, “I take very good care of them” he stated while he started humming softly causing his chest to rumble where your head was placed. You shifted a little bit so that you were curled up on his lap sideways, head on his chest, one hand intertwined with the one that was wrapped around you while the other one was still in his feathers, basking in happy glow that you two had created. Soon enough, the warmth that came from Lucifer and being wrapped in his wings had you falling asleep, trying to stay awake Lucifer chuckled, placing a kiss on your head again he spoke into your hair “Sleep darling, the cold will not bother you tonight” you hummed your body relaxing into him.

           “ ‘m glad the heater broke” you mumbled half asleep. Your breathing quickly evened out after that while your hand went slack in his wing. Lucifer took your hand and put it on your lap and tightened his hold on you a little more before responding to your question while looking down at your sleeping form with all the love in the world. “Me too”

[presleepthoughts]

Hello! I don't know if you have done this or not, but I had this picture in my head. Either Becca or Chloe gets a pet for their partner. Maybe for Christmas, maybe just as a gift. Hope it makes sense. Thank you! Love ya!!!

Great idea :) Enjoyed writing it. 

If you like it, please leave a comment. 😘

Beca teeth clanked together as she shivered, wrapping her arms around her waist to keep warm. The weather turned colder than she anticipated but the first thin layer of snow made New York City more beautiful than ever. Beca looked around, the edge of the Central Park in view as she bit her lips. The whole city danced in Christmas lights, anxiously waiting for the holiday.

She glanced down at her watch and frowned. Stacie was late and Beca didn’t know how long she could stand out in the open before she froze to the ground. The building behind her buzzed loudly and she couldn’t wait to get inside.

Mostly for warmth.

Five more minutes later, Stacie walked up to her with a smile, relaxed as ever.

Beca puffed. “Where have you been? I’ve been freezing my ass off out here.”

Stacie smirked and shook her head. “Why didn’t you just wait inside?”

Beca paused, before rolling her eyes. “Shut up. Why were you late?”

“I’m sorry, my client wouldn’t get off the floor so I had to be a little more persuasive.” Stacie shrugged. “I swear, these millionaires are cute but they don’t have stamina.”

Beca looked at her with wide eyes and she scoffed. “I swear if I didn’t know you were a personal trainer, I would think you were a hooker.”

Stacie smirked seductively and cocked her head to the side. “Ah, potayto, potahto.”

Beca squinted her eyes. “I - don’t think that’s true...” She murmured but clapped her hands together and changed the subject. “But whatever, let’s just go inside before I turn into a Beca shaped ice statue.”

Stacie chuckled. “And they say Chloe is the dramatic one in the relationship.”

Beca ignored her and pushed open the heavy door. The warm temperature made her sigh in relief, feeling her fingers defrost as she looked inside. The word chaos completely summarized the happenings in the spacious room.

“Oh my God.” Beside her, Stacie’s jaw hit the floor as she took in the hundreds of children and even more dogs - puppies! - playing around on the floor. Every year The Broadway community organized an animal shelter to help stray dogs and cats to found loving homes. Beca always heard about the event but never actually attended. She didn’t have the desire to adopt an animal.

But a lot changed since Chloe came into her life.

“Beca...” Stacie drawn out her name but couldn’t look away from the adorable puppies. “What are we doing here?”

Beca took a deep breath and tried to smile but it trembled a little on the edges. “I’m gonna get a puppy for Chloe...for Christmas.”

“Fuck.” Stacie exhaled before smirking at the brunette. “You’re gonna get so laid.”

Beca rolled her eyes but murmured a ‘hope so’ under her breath. They didn’t have time to talk much before an volunteer approached them to ask if they needed help.

“Yeah, I...um, looking for a puppy for my girlfriend.”

The young girl smiled and nodded. “Oh, wonderful. As you can see, we have a lot of puppies this year.” She pointed around. “Do you have something specific in mind?”

Beca chewed on her bottom lip. “Um, no, I guess not. Can you just show me around? I’ll know when I see it.”

The girl kindly agreed and gave them a tour. There were mini playgrounds set up where children got to play with the dogs and cats instead through a cage and Beca couldn’t help but aw at the scene.

She may be a badass but she had a heart.

“What do you think?” Beca asked Stacie quietly.

“They are so adorable, I wanna die.” She commented, letting a little Yorkshire Terrier lick her fingers. “But I haven’t seen the one. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

But Beca didn’t need more explanation. She knew exactly what Stacie meant. Chloe would be more than happy with any of these dogs but Beca wanted the one that was perfect for them. Happy and energetic as Chloe but could be laid back and lazy like Beca.

Beca wondered off on her own, Stacie was quite happy to sit on the rubber matt and play with the puppies. She smiled at each animal, patting them, scratching them behind their ears but nothing caught her attention.

Until she took two steps to her right and kneeled down to a cage on the floor. Far in the back corner sat a small black and white husky puppy. His ocean-blue eyes reminded Beca of Chloe.

A wide smile took over her face.

She found him. Their dog.

Beca quickly reached over and shut off her alarm clock. The sun was just peaking through the windows as she looked beside her, an easy smile appearing on her lips. Chloe slept peacefully on her side, her fist tucked underneath her chin as her hair framed her face. She looked effortlessly beautiful.

Leaning over, she gently kissed her cheek lingering for a moment before quietly climbing out of the bed. She grabbed her phone and tiptoed out to the living room and sat down on the couch.

She pushed the power button on the phone, seeing a text from Stacie.

I’m outside. Let me in.

Since he was a surprise, Beca couldn’t bring home their brand new puppy so she asked Stacie to dog-sit for a few days. They agreed that they would meet early on Christmas Day so that Beca could set everything before Chloe woke up.

Beca fought down an excited shriek - refusing to acknowledge her love for that dog for the time being - and opened the door. Stacie smiled at her tiredly, holding the puppy in her arms. The little husky wiggled his tails happily as he watched Beca.

“Here you go.” Stacie murmured, passing the dog to Beca. “Chloe’s gonna love him.” She winked at the brunette. “I almost didn’t want to give him back. He’s so cute.”

“Thanks, Stacie.” Beca said genuinely.

“Anytime, Captain.” She replied and left, leaving Beca alone with the puppy for the first time.

Beca took a deep breath, held out the dog in front of her, looking deep into his eyes.

“Let’s get you ready to meet your mommy, huh?”

After debating with herself for half and hour about how to do this, Beca finally settled on an idea.

A cheesy one but an idea nevertheless. Plus, Chloe loved cheesy.

When she was finished, she quickly walked back to their bedroom, finding the redhead still sleeping. Climbing into the bed, Beca leaned over her and started leaving gentle open mouth kisses on the exposed skin on her neck. Chloe hummed at the unexpected sensation, pulling her out of a deep sleep.

“Hm, good morning.” She said groggily, smiling easily as she ran her fingers through Beca’s hair. The brunette pulled back and stole a kiss.

“Merry Christmas.”

Chloe’s smile brightened at the realization. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Beca’s eyes bore into Chloe’s, both of them quiet for a moment just gazing at each other. Beca still couldn’t believe her luck that Chloe felt the same way about her. That she got to call Chloe hers.

Beca sighed, a soft smile on her lips. “Come on, I have a present for you.”

Chloe’s eyes sparkled with joy as she threw the blankets to the side. Beca grabbed her hand and guided her to the living room. The space was decorated fully - thanks to Chloe - and the Christmas tree glowed beautifully. Several presents were placed under the tree from their friends and family and also to each other.

The most dominant one was a red, circular box slightly in front of the other presents.

Chloe smiled like a little kid and pulled Beca on the floor with her.

“Oh, my God. I don’t even know where to start.” Chloe said, eyes flickering between boxes.

Beca grimaced and pointed to the red box. “I would start with that one.” before the dog ran out of air. She poked small holes in the lid but it still filled her with anxiety. “And I would be gentle.”

Chloe’s eyes squinted in suspicion at her girlfriend but she turned to the present. She slowly lifted the top and her eyes widen at what she found inside.

“Oh, my God!” She squealed loudly, Beca happily noted it didn’t scare the puppy as he wiggled his tail excitedly. Chloe’s mouth was open in surprise as she reached inside and pulled the puppy between her arms, cradling the animal gently. She turned to Beca.

“You got me a puppy?! Becs!” She was smiling so much her cheeks started to hurt. “Oh, my God, I love him!”

Beca sighed in relief although she knew Chloe would be more than happy. She smiled at the duo.

“And I rescued him too from a shelter.” She added nonchalantly, not thinking it made any difference but her eyes widened when Chloe suddenly put the puppy down - gently - and pounced on her, wrapping her arms around her neck.

Beca fall back on the floor, letting out a quite huff but soon got silent as Chloe kissed her deeply. The brunette moaned and ran her hands up and down Chloe’s back, slightly scratching with her nails. Chloe sighed contently and opened her mouth, deepening the kiss. Beca was just about to think Stacie’s prediction would come true when she felt a wet lick - the wrong kind - touch her face and Chloe’s.

Chloe’s joyous giggle broke their kiss as the pair turned their heads and saw the little puppy inches away from their faces. Beca could swear he was smiling. She couldn’t help but join in the laughter.

[frickfracksnatchisback]

A Rookie Mistake (Part 2)

It took about two or three hours for Balthazar to reach the nearest train station. He knew that there was one a couple of miles near the town of Sand n’ Sails by looking at his map. The walk there was long and hard, but he had finally managed to make it to the train station and board the train that passed down there regularly.

He was now on the train, shuffling a pack of cards he found laying in the booth that he was now sitting in. He sat there dealing cards to himself, as the train continued rattling down the tracks to his destination. The train’s conductor was a very...interesting person who talked louder than he should have and lead Balthazar to his seat. And the staff (who were also passengers somehow) consisted mostly of owls who were much too shy and awkward to look at anyone directly.

Honestly, they were staring to get on his nerves.

“Who’s the new guy?” one of the owls quietly piped up at a table across from his booth. There were only four of them at the table, just talking to each other.

“I don’t know. He handed the Conductor a bunch of Pons to take him to a ‘special destination’. Can you believe it?” another owl informed the other. It was hard to tell which one exactly, they all seemed to have the same voice.

“Oh man. I was hoped to get to work on time today...” a third muttered sadly.

“A ‘special destination’? What the peck does that even mean?” the forth questioned.

“I can heard every word your saying by the way.” Balthazar stopped dealing out cards to glare at the four owls accusingly. They all jumped in their seats in unison and grabbed the menus on the table to hide their faces. Balthazar simply shook his head and look out of the window next to his booth. He watched as the cacti and sand dunes were being passed by the speed of the train. He had never really gotten out of the town much. At least, not like this in a very long time.

The train came to a sudden stop as the Conductor’s voice came out of a hidden speaker.

“Sorry about the undesignated stop everyone! This’ll only be a few teeny tiny minutes and the we’ll be right back on schedule!” the Conductor said over the speaker. A few of the owls groaned and sighed at the news.  “IF YE PECKNECKS ARE GONNA WHINE ABOUT IT, YE CAN ALL GET OFF AT THIS HERE STOP!” the speaker screeched in protest as the owls put their hands over their ears to block out the awful shouting.

The door swung open as the Conductor came through the front door and walked over to the booth that Balthazar was sitting in. “Follow me laddie! I’ll lead ya to the back of the train!” the Conductor said while motioning with his hand for Balthazar to come along. Balthazar cleaned up the cards by putting them back into their box, and quickly followed the Conductor out of the parlor. Balthazar really didn’t see the need to be escorted to the back of the train, but he followed anyway. They both went through the two ending train cars, a car with study and a tank car, all the way to the caboose.

They were now outside at the very back of the train. The sun was still glaring down, but less so now that they were more at the edge of the desert. Balthazar walked over to the short ladder at the edge of the caboose, only to find the Conductor in the way of his path.  “Hold on a sec there laddie, ye still haven’t paid the toll.” the old bird smiled at him while holding out a hand, expecting payment. Balthazar looked down at the Conductor’s hand and gave a look of disapproval.

“I thought I already paid you when I got on the train.” Balthazar said firmly, recalling the ridiculous amount of Pons it took to board the train and to reserve the booth in the parlor. The Conductor simply laughed at his response.

“Oh no, I think you’re mistaken young lad! That was only the admission fee! You’ll need to pay a little extra before I can let ye offa me train.” the Conductor chuckled. “I’m just chargin’ ya an extra fee since this isn’t a designated stop and whatnot so...would ye kindly?” the Conductor finished explaining as he thrust his hand in Balthazar’s direction once more.

Balthazar’s eyes thinned as he glared down at the bird. “And what if I don’t want to?” Balthazar said as he tried to intimidate the Conductor. The Conductor, however, wasn't fazed in the slightest.

“Well then I ain’t movin’ until ye do!” the Conductor’s smiled had faded away and he now looked very annoyed. “Ya gonna pay the fee or not lad?! I can stand here all day if ye want to be stubborn!” he yelled back while stomping his feet on the ground.

Balthazar thought about pushing the old bird aside so he could stop wasting his time. He was much taller and it didn’t really seem like a fair fight. But there was something about the Conductor’s temper and behavior that struck him as someone he really didn’t want to get in a fight with. Besides, that would waste even more of his time and he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with this right now.

Instead, Balthazar grumbled and pulled out his money bag so he could shove a handful of Pons into the Conductor’s open hand. The Conductor’s smile reappeared as he stuffed the Pons into his coat pocket. He moved out of the way and presented it with a bow in a snobby gesture. “Why, thank ye kind sir! After ye, please, I insist!” the Conductor said with a massive amount of sarcasm in his voice. Balthazar ignored his tone, and jumped off of the caboose instead of using the ladder.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a demon I need to hunt down.” Balthazar said back at the Conductor once he landed on the ground. The Conductor pulled a puzzled expression and then started to snicker a bit.

“Ehehehe-oh! Ah mean uh-sure thing laddie! You go fer it!” the Conductor laughed to himself as Balthazar began to walk away from the train at a fast pace. The Conductor shook his head as Balthazar stormed off and went over to the back door of the train. “Ah swear, these passengers are getting crazier every day.” the Conductor said to himself as he went back inside.

***

Balthazar was already making his way to the entrance of Subcon Forest. He could see that it wouldn’t take him too long of a walk to reach the forest. But even from where he was, he could already see the massively tall trees that seemed to stretch to the sky. There were strange dark clouds that floated overhead of the trees as if an invisible force-field was keeping them only in the forest’s boundaries. He suspected that it was some sort of magic or perhaps an illusion.

After walking a few miles, he finally made it to the mouth of the forest. Before going in, he looked upon the entrance with slight fascination and cautiousness. The trees looked even taller than they had before and it was extremely dark inside. So dark in fact, that when Balthazar squinted his eyes to try and see deep in the forest he still could only see darkness. But once he looked closer...he saw a few faintly glowing lights. He could also hear strange noises coming from inside the forest in whispers, like something inside was calling out to him. He checked himself to see if he had all of the equipment necessary to take on whatever ghost would pop out at any moment once he went into the dark. He was satisfied and felt like he was prepared; he then took his first few steps into the forest.

He was startled by the sudden and abrupt change of atmosphere and lighting. Somehow, it was now nighttime with the sliver moonlight shining above him. It was also colder now with a slight chill in the air and a very brief gust of wind every few minutes. It was strange, odd, and definitely paranormal. There was certainly no doubt that magic was being used to turn the forest into an eternal night. The trees were dead with purple bark, holes and cracks, and luminescent mushrooms growing on the branches or at the bottom of the trees. Some of the trees were even lucky enough to have crimson leaves growing on their skinny branches. There were tiny, golden lights like fireflies that seemed to float in the air all on their own. And as he kept walking on the bare dirt path, he felt like he had discovered a fantastical enchanted forest.

If that enchanted forest had millions of ghosts crawling inside it that is.

Despite the forest first appearance, which was most certainly magical, there was also something that seemed...off. He could almost feel a ghostly presence from the cold temperature and the stillness in the air. And if he strained hard enough he could hear the whispering now, louder this time, calling out to him. He couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination, but Balthazar could almost swear that he could see thousands of yellow eyes peering at him from the holes in the trees It almost felt like someone, or something, was watching him.

He then heard a rustling of leaves and quickly turned toward the noise. A bush with purple leaves shook violently from behind the trees. Balthazar quickly put himself into a defensive stance for whatever was about to come out of the bush. His stance lost some of it’s edge as he saw glowing from the dark was a large, yellow light.

Is that someone holding a lantern? Am I not the only alive person in this forest? Balthazar thought to himself in wild curiosity. Suddenly, the lantern blinked and came bursting out of the bush.

Balthazar quickly jumped back and saw that the “lantern” was actually a tiny person wearing a tiny purple robe. The robe was tattered at the bottom with the large hood obscuring the person’s face. Actually, he didn’t think that the person even had a face. The glowing light that he mistook for a lantern shone out from the hood like a giant eye staring back at him.

The little person began dusting off purple leaves from the bush it jumped out of. Balthazar was slightly amazed but kept his ground. It must be a ghost trying to trick me into thinking it’s harmless. Balthazar thought while watching the small person. He reached into the pocket of his robe to grab a charm to protect himself. If it lived in this forest, then that meant it was far from harmless.

“Back off.” Balthazar said in a deep voice while pointing at the person with his finger. It looked up at him and cocked it’s head to the side in confusion. “Don’t you make another move or so help me I’ll-” Balthazar tried to threaten the small person. But before he could finish, the small person giggled and ran quickly past him. “What the-hey! Come back here!” He yelled as he hastily made chase and ran into the trees. But the small person was fast and had already gotten a head start.

***

Balthazar had been trying his best to keep up with it. For such a small person, it sure was a fast runner! As he ran past the trees he realized that he was slowly beginning to lose track of it. He stopped running and looked side to side. “Where the heck...did it go?” he said while trying to catch his breath. He heard a loud whistle from behind him and turn to see the small person waving at him.

“Hey hey! Over here new guy!” the small person taunted Balthazar. It then turned around and disappeared into the trees.

“Why you little midget!” Balthazar chased the small person in the direction it had went. After going through a few trees he came across a clearing, the little person was there waiting for him. It stood there with a...well, not really a smirk, but it sort of looked like it was smiling in a smug way.

“Come on new guy! Come and get me!” the small person beckoned at him with his hand, pulling him into and obvious trap.

It was apparently not-so-obvious for him, however.

Balthazar blindly ran toward the small person in an attempt to grab it. He yelped in surprise as big, purple, and thorny vines erupted from the ground. They enclosed him into a circle with no way out as the little person laughed and ran away.

“Get back here! I’m not done with you yet!” Balthazar yelled furiously as he saw the little person escaping. He gave up soon though, as he realized that there was no way that he could get out of this entanglement of vines.

Dang it! I can’t believe I fell into such a stupid trap! he thought, annoyed at himself at his stupidity. How am I going to get myself out of this one? he thought to himself while trying to think of ways to escape his thorny prison.

He then heard a noise from deep within the forest.

Thump thump

The ground shook beneath him. He turned to try and locate where the noise was coming from.

Thump thump

The ground shook again, harder this time. Balthazar saw a flock of black birds emerging from the trees, eager to get away from whatever beast was making the terrible vibrations.

THUMP THUMP

Balthazar struggled to keep his balance after the third set of thumps. He began to panic, whatever was made those sounds was big and it was starting to get closer.

The vines retreated into the ground and Balthazar watched as magic seemed to turn his surroundings into a ghastly purple realm. Dark clouds of a deep purple circled the sky with bolts of lighting and thunder booming overhead. He was standing on a glowing, light purple platform made of what he assumed was spiritual magic. Instead of forest trees, the purple background seemed to be made of what looked to be...faces?! Yes, crying faces of poor souls were floating in the air in the distance, away the platform he was standing on. He could scarcely hear their ghostly wails of distress over the occasional rattling thunder.

And then he screamed as a glowing yellow face with a wide grin met his gaze.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he fell flat on his back. He manage to sit himself up straight and looked up to see a very big, very tall, and very familiar-looking creature.

“AHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” the creature cackled loudly, throwing it’s hands up in the air. Balthazar quickly cupped his hands over his ears. It’s voice was booming and echoed throughout the whole area. And boy, was it loud!

“FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!” the creature continued in it’s unbearably loud voice. Balthazar didn’t seem to noticed, as he was too busy trying to protect his hearing even though he wished that he was capable of becoming deaf for a short period.

“You’ve really done it this time! You dare to enter my forest? You dare to...huh?” Snatcher stopped introducing himself to see that his newly caught victim wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, he was closing his eyes and covering his ears.

“Hey buddy, don’t be rude when someone’s trying to terrify you.” Snatcher leaned down and snapped his fingers near Balthazar’s head. Balthazar opened his eyes and looked up to see Snatcher looking back at him with and annoyed expression.

The creature was a lot more...goofy-looking than Balthazar expected. While it was rather big, it’s arms were gangly and it’s snake-like body was curved at an odd angle making it look slightly ridiculous. What made the creature look even more ridiculous was the fact that it had it’s arms crossed, as if it was waiting impatiently to continue their conversation. Balthazar slowly removed his hands from his ears and the creature smiled back at him in appreciation.

“Much better! Now, where were we?” the creature’s smile was more silly than evil, almost welcoming in a way. Balthazar stopped looking at the creature in awe and suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He scrambled to his feet, less gracefully than he would have liked, and made a defensive pose.

“Enough! I, Balthazar, will vanquish you and restore my father’s name as a mighty hunter of the paranormal!” Balthazar yelled triumphantly holding out a sword that he had pulled from the sheath under his robe. The creature seemed surprise and it’s smile faded.

And then it started to laugh at him.

Snatcher laughed loud and hard as his victim stood there, pointing a sword in his direction. Was this guy serious? Did he really think that he could “vanquish” an all powerful spirit with nothing but a hunk of metal on a stick? Snatcher held his sides, he hadn’t laughed like this in ages!

Balthazar’s stone cold stare dropped and he lowered his sword. The creature was laughing so hard now, that it was having mad giggling fits in between bursts of laughter. “Hey! Stop laughing! You think that this is funny?!” Balthazar was becoming agitated at this creature’s childish antics.

“I...I think that it’s hilarious! Ha ha ha!” Snatcher couldn’t help himself, it was just too funny not to laugh! He finally manged to stop and collect himself. “I’m sorry, but that was priceless! Have you ever considered becoming a comedian?” Snatcher stifled a giggle as Balthazar growled under his breath.

“I don’t see what’s so amusing about me threatening to kill you.” Balthazar was now holding his sword to his side and tapping his foot angrily. He wanted to be taken seriously, not have a little friendly chit-chat with a demon.

“Oh! Well, I don’t know! Let’s see...” Snatcher was fully aware that he was being annoying. He was trying his best to see how long this guy would last. “One, you think that a simple little sword like that is going to kill me. That’s adorable!” Snatcher was now counting the reasons on his clawed fingers, one at a time.

“It’s an enchanted sword!” Balthazar raised it again to try to look intimidating. Snatcher just ignored him and kept going.

“Two, nobody dresses in old rags like that anymore.” Snatcher sneered as he quickly grabbed Balthazar by the hood of his robe and lifted him off the ground. Balthazar yelped in surprise and tried to hack and slash at Snatcher’s arm with his sword. The metal of course, fazed right through him with every cut not damaging him in the slightest. Balthazar was in disbelief and let his sword drop to the ground with a resounding clank. He then started to shake and squirm in Snatcher’s grasp, eager to escape.

“Three, what on earth is a “hunter of the paranormal”? That can’t be a real job description!” Snatcher continued as Balthazar kept struggling to be released.

“Let me go you foul beast!” Balthazar yelled in furiously.

“You’re rather rude, aren’t you?” Snatcher said as he let go of Balthazar’s hood and let him fall to the ground. Balthazar hit the ground with a thud and groaned as he pushed himself back up. The fall hadn’t been major, but he had still managed to hit his head a little during the impact.

“And four, what did you say your name was again?” Snatcher asked, ignoring Balthazar’s fall. Balthazar was on his knees as he looked back at Snatcher, shooting daggers in his direction. Snatcher didn’t seem to care.

“My name is Balthazar.” he grumbled as he dusted himself up and got to his feet. Snatcher snickered and put a hand over his mouth. “What now?!” Balthazar was really starting to hate this demon.

“Balthazar? What kind of a name is that?” Snatcher snickered louder this time, but then cleared his throat as to try and keep his composure. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling though, as Balthazar gave him a hateful glare.

“It is the name my father gave to me, you murdering demon!” Balthazar was absolutely livid now. He wasn’t about to let some low-life demon mock the name his father had given him. He grabbed his sword off the ground and starting to run toward Snatcher. Snatcher put his hand in front of Balthazar, forcing him to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a second. Murdering demon? Are you sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?” Snatcher asked, confused as to who this guy was talking about. Sure, he may have taken one or two hundred souls, but he was no demon. Balthazar scowled and pushed Snatcher's hand away.

“Are you or are you not the demon of the Subcon Forest?” Balthazar stated, using his sword to point at Snatcher accusingly.

“It’s rude to point. And to answer your question, no, I’m not a demon.” Snatcher said as he lowered Balthazar’s sword with a single talon. “Although, I am flattered that you would think so highly of me!” Snatcher put a hand to his chest to signify pride. Balthazar just stood there, dumbfounded. How could this creature not be a demon and yet take so many souls?

“If you’re not a demon, then who are you?” Balthazar questioned. Snatcher looked back down at him and flashed a wicked grin.

“Finally! Some manners!” Snatcher said in a delighted tone and then cleared his throat.

“I’m Snatcher, the snatcher of souls. I take the souls of whatever fool is unlucky enough to find their way here.” Snatcher’s tone had become more threatening with his gaze more ominous as he towered over Balthazar. “And guess who just happens to be standing in my forest as of right now?” Balthazar shrunk back as he was covered by Snatcher’s shadow. He now looked exactly like the illustration that he had found in his father’s journal. A long serpentine body, slender arms that ended in clawed hands, an evil smile with slanted eyes.

Balthazar backed away and quickly regained his courage. “I’m not scared of you! I will avenge my father’s death or I’ll die trying to find him!” Balthazar stood up, pretending to not be intimidated by Snatcher’s piercing gaze. Snatcher looked back at him, surprise a little bit by his actions.

“What’s your father’s first and last name?” Snatcher asked, breaking the tense atmosphere.

“What?” Balthazar was confused. He was prepared for a fight, not a question.

“I said, what’s your father’s first and last name?” Snatcher asked again, he was more focused in an answer to his question that than fighting.

“Why do you need to know? It’s none of your business.” Balthazar thought that Snatcher was trying to distract him so he could gain the upper hand.

“Because I might just know where he is.”

Balthazar was shocked, was he being serious? “You’re joking right?” Balthazar smiled bitterly, but then his smiled faded when Snatcher shook his head. Snatcher then snapped his fingers and in a cloud of purple smoke, a large stack of papers appeared floating in the air. Snatcher grabbed the stack of old, tattered papers and then turned to look at Balthazar.

“I keep the names of almost everyone who’s been in my forest. If you tell me your father’s name, well...we might be able to strike ourselves a deal!” Snatcher was quite ecstatic when mentioning the word “deal”. Balthazar was immediately wary, but Snatcher’s words manage to entice him.

“His name is Drexel Lancaster.” Balthazar hesitated a moment before finally telling him his father’s name. Snatcher then began to sift through the stack of paper in his hand at lighting speed.

“Of course, of course! Can’t have a weird first name without a matching set!” Snatcher laughed at his own joke despite Balthazar’s annoyance. “Let’s see now… Nope. Not it. Defiantly not.” Balthazar watched Snatcher in amazement, as the papers that Snatcher has no use for floated into their own separate stack. “No, no, no-Aha! Here it is!” Snatcher’s shouted joyously, causing Balthazar to startle a bit. Snatcher snapped his fingers again and the stack of discarded papers disappeared in another could of smoke. Snatcher snapped his finger a third time and pointed at the paper. The paper then floated down toward Balthazar and he carefully held it in his hands.

The paper was actually a very ancient-looking contract. The paper was yellow with age and had decorative boarders along the corners of the paper. At the bottom was a purple wax stamp with Snatcher’s grinning face melded into it. And right next to the stamp was a signature line...with his father’s own signature written in ink.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in front of his eyes. Seeing his father’s cursive reminded him of how long he had spent searching for him and how long he missed living without him. The signature was enough proof to convince him that his father was still out there! And more importantly, still alive!

“Where is he now?! I have to find him as soon as possible!” Balthazar exclaimed, he didn’t even bother reading the rest of the contract. He didn’t care about whatever else was written on it, the only thing he cared about was his father’s signature.

“Hold on a moment! I can’t just go ahead and give you that information right away! After all...” Snatcher snapped his fingers once more and another contract appeared in front of Balthazar. “...You still haven’t signed yet!” Snatcher finished speaking as a feather quill appeared in Balthazar’s hand. Balthazar picked up the new contract in his hands a left the other one suspended in the air. The signature line on the new contract was empty, waiting for someone’s name to be written down. Balthazar looked back at the line and then back at the quill in his hand.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

“Go ahead. Sign the paper...” Snatcher voice had returned to being dark and ominous, but Balthazar didn’t seem to notice. He was already scribbling down his name onto the contract, not caring to read the bottom text or any of the text. And after he finished jotting down his signature...

The contract and quill erupted into blue flames in his hands.

Blue flames appeared to ignite all around the platform that he and Snatcher were standing on. Balthazar screamed as strange, purple chains came out of the ground and wrapped tightly around his body. Chains with shackles automatically clamped down around his wrists and pulled him violently to the ground, forcing him onto his knees. He cried out in pain and struggled to break free of his prison, but the chains just seemed to wrap tighter making him gasp for air.

Snatcher eyes were slanted and watched as Balthazar kept struggling and struggling, but to no avail. “You’re so quick to take action and jump to conclusions. Like father like son, I suppose.” Snatcher smiled as he found Balthazar’s desperate attempts to escape amusing. “Did you honestly think that I would just tell you were your father was after you threaten to kill me?” Snatcher’s expression grew cold as he came closer to Balthazar, who stopped wriggling in the chains to look up a him.

“I trusted you.” Balthazar eyes started to tear up. He didn’t want to die, not yet.

“It isn’t my fault that you made the same mistake that your father did.” Snatcher smiled, showing no empathy whatsoever. “But hey! Look on the bright side! At least you’ll finally get to reunite with him!” Snatcher said as he slowly pointed a talon in Balthazar’s direction.

Purple lighting struck Balthazar a first, a second, and a then third time causing him to scream in agony. His screams slowly died out as he felt his life essence slipping, floating away from him. The world around him faded to black as Snatcher cackled maniacally. He was being surrounded by darkness…

And then there was nothing.

Nothing but the sound of someone calling out to him.

It was his father’s voice.

He had finally found him, at last.

***

A Few Years Later

Hat Kid was very excited to be visiting Sand n’ Sails in order to do some light shopping. The Conductor was nice enough to let her off as close to the place as he could. She thanked him and managed to make the rest of the way on her scooter. With the sun shining on her face and the wind in her hair, what a time to be alive!

The town was more lively that she could have ever expected. The townspeople were very nice and welcomed her with open arms and friendly faces. The marketplace was even more fun, with many interesting items that she could buy with the Pons she had on her person (she had a lot of them since the Mafia in Mafia Town wouldn’t sell her anything no matter how hard she asked). She met a really nice cactus person named Prickly, who gave her a cute sun hat accessory as a free gift.

She was now leaving the marketplace with as many bags as she could carry in her tiny arms. She sprinted down the stone path, her feet making pleasant little tapping sounds. She was just about ready to go home when she came across an old, run-down house that stood out from the others. The house was not well-kept at all and looked like nobody had lived in it for years. The stone walls were cracked, the black tinted windows were broken, and the wooden roof was caving in and rotting away. There were cobwebs and broken nails above the door frame, as if someone had hung things there long ago but torn them down afterwards. There were strange, glowing symbols carved into the wooden door that seemed to be fading away with age.

“Are your parentsss looking to buy a houssse little girl?” a strange voice behind Hat Kid said making her turn around quickly in surprise. A cobra person dressed in traditional attire appeared from and alleyway and slithered in Hat Kid’s direction.

“My apologiesss. I did not mean to ssstartle you, little one.” the cobra person bowed it’s head. “Allow me to introduce my ssself. I am Ssslinky Ssscaleshedder, the Sssand n’ Sssails realtor.” Slinky moved his tail in Hat Kid’s direction. She smiled and shook his tail with her free hand, which was the closest way of shaking hands with a snake.

“If you are looking to buy a house, I wouldn’t chossse that one if I were you. The owner disssapeared a long time ago.” Slinky pointed his tail at the abandoned house. Hat Kid turned to look back at the house and then cocked her head in question.

“Hmm? You want to know who usssed to live there?” Slinky said and Hat Kid nodded in agreement. “Oh, well I don’t really know to be honessst. He was alwaysss sssuch a quiet fellow, he kept mostly to himssself.” Slinky couldn’t really shrug since he had no shoulders, but if he did he would have. “There are rumorsss that he wasss a performer of witchcraft, but that’sss jussst nonsenssse. I asssure you that no sssuch thing existsss.” Slinky smiled, showing off the two small fangs at the front of his teeth. Hat Kid nodded and giggled awkwardly, a little intimidated by Slinky’s sharp teeth.

“Ssso...interesssted in buying a houssse?” Slinky asked. Hat Kid shook her head lightly, she really didn’t want to disappoint the guy but she already had a perfectly good spaceship home. “Oh, very well then. Hope to sssee you sssoon...” and with that Slinky slithered away across the path.

Hat Kid waved goodbye at Slinky and then looked back at the old house. It made her wonder...what happened to that guy?  Maybe he just went on a really long vacation? Then again, people don’t usually leave their house in ruins when going on vacation. Just looking at the house’s condition was starting to give her the creeps. She then realized that she needed to get back home. She stopped staring at the old house and continued to walk along the stone path toward the town’s exit.

And the house stood there, unloved and unkempt. It’s owner would never return and no one would even know that he went missing. Instead, the house would probably be demolished and, after a few years, a new house would be made on top of the rubble. But for now the house just stood there and Balthazar would slowly be forgotten, along with all of Snatcher’s other victims who were unfortunate enough to make the same mistake that he did. Snatcher didn’t know this, but every person who would have their soul taken from him were all learning the same moral lesson. The same cruel lesson that Vanessa taught him many years ago when she locked him away in the basement...

Not all stories have happy endings.

[beholdyaourt]

Top 5 podcasts/moments in podcasts/idk! Top 5 Spooky movies/books/tv shows! Top 5 late night weird article/Wikipedia rabbitholes!

Oh dear!!! This made me take a DIVE. The truth is I really only listen to one podcast (My Favorite Murder) but I do listen to it A Whole Lot so I can name five of my favorite moments from this year.

1. Karen’s description of Jodi Arias breaking into her ex-boyfriend’s home through his doggy door and being discovered hiding behind his Christmas tree:

“But also, the moment after - just think about that, where you’re hiding behind the guy you love’s Christmas tree, because he’s not dating you anymore, so you’re like ‘*sobbing* why doesn’t he love me?’ and then he’s like ‘Jodie?’ and then you’re like... ‘Heyyyyyyyyyy! Hiiiiii! Where’d you get this wrapping paper?’ Back out through the dog door. She only enters and exits his house through the dog door.”

2. Karen’s description of the story of the Lawson Family Murders being passed down through a country song which she and Georgia do a HYSTERICAL bit about. I can’t even do it justice through text, please listen:

“Oh, you want a lullaby? Oh, you can’t sleep, you want Mommy to sing you a song? Okay. ♪ ♪  THEY CAAAAAAAME FROM HEEE HAW HEE HAW HAWWWW  ♪ ♪ ”

3. Karen and Georgia riffing on the creators (and guests) of the old Long Beach Carnival:

“They’re like ‘I like roller coasters, so I’m gonna build one, see! Right over the ocean!’”

“‘Insurance? We don’t need insurance!’”

“‘Don’t be crazy!’ More than a few drunken sailors who had gone down to the pier, because there’s lots of sailors stationed on Long Beach, ignored the ‘Do Not Stand Up’ sign.”

“And why wouldn’t you? It’s your day.”

“If it’s your day, and you wanna have fun your way, stand up on this insane roller coaster with no safety features whatsoever, and ♪ Die Die Die Die Die ♪ .”

4. Karen’s obviously spot-on impersonation of Typhoid Mary, with quotes like this in a thick Irish accent:

“Ach, I just need to stir this soup with my hand real quick.”

“Ach, who cares? Ach, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, there’s other things to worry about. There’s people starving in my country.”

5. Karen and Georgia going entirely off-the-rails from a murder, imagining what a town’s July 4th celebration is like, kindly animated below:

Now, spooky things I saw this year!!

1. The Haunting of Hill House (Netflix)

This has actually probably become one of my all-time favorite TV shows. I’m on my third watch now and I keep finding new things. I’m incredibly attached to (and defensive of) almost all of the characters, the actors are fabulous, the frequent monologues really appeal to the playwright in me, the spooks are spooky, the way the story is put together like a puzzle is straight-up inspiring, and some episodes are just plain triumphs of great filmmaking. I REALLY love this one and encourage everyone to watch it. Either alone, with some wine, or with me (and some wine). Give it some time to build and develop, because a lot of it is a BUMMER, and be familiar with the many triggers involved, but I firmly believe it’s worth watching.

2. Happy Death Day

On a VERY different end of the spectrum, here’s a 2017 movie that I don’t believe I actually saw until this year, and I have seen it a LOT this year. It’s absurd and so dumb at points and I love it unashamedly for the concept, the “mystery”, and the montage of deaths set to Demi Lovato’s “Confident”. Also the sequel looks rad.

3. Hereditary

This is a straight-up huge bummer and incredibly depressing but also an astoundingly well-made film with amazing performances and some scares that are a lot of fun to talk about with your friends afterwards. Fuck. This fucked me up and I don’t look forward to watching it again, but I can’t deny it’s really great. Not to mention it has some cult shit I can’t help but love.

4. Cabin in the Woods

I’d seen this movie pre-2018, but a midnight screening this year was my first time seeing it in theaters, so I’m counting it! I have petty beef with this movie’s ending, because I think Sigourney Weaver (all hail) defends her side a little too well - I don’t want the world to end!!! And I have a hard time remembering in the end that it’s not meant to be taken that seriously. But this movie is a joyride from start to almost-finish. It was a BLAST in theaters, and I do love the hell out of almost all of it.

5. Halloween

I haven’t seen the new movie yet! This is about the original John Carpenter film, which I saw for the first time this October and just rewatched tonight with my brother. It’s not all that exciting, but it helped cement a lot of horror tropes that I love-hate, and I LOVE yelling at characters in horror movies who have no idea that they’re doing something I consider unforgivably dumb. A+ to Jamie Lee Curtis, even though she should have stabbed Michael Myers many more times.

As for late night article/Wikipedia rabbit holes...

1. MAGDALENA SOLIS

what the fuck

2. Anne of Cleves

for a refreshing reminder that at least one of Henry VIII’s wives got off with a relatively sweet deal

3. The Plot of Every Final Destination Film

because i spend every evening reading the plots of horror films i tell myself i’ll never watch

4. Douglas Booth’s Instagram

this... does not count by any stretch of the imagination, but i’m making it count because it... did make up a fair portion of my 2018. keep working, douglas!!! please get a better filmography for me!!!!!

5. This Buzzfeed News Story About Horrific Abuse/Murder at Catholic Orphanages

fascinating but incredibly lengthy and depressing, explore at your own risk

Phew!!!! Happy 2019, everyone!!!!!

[welovekpopscenarios]

Friction (Fallout!AU Woozi x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

With your rifle damaged, you had no other choice than head to the nearest city to get it repaired. You didn’t expect the person doing the job to be such an insufferable jerk, however. But things become interesting the more you get to know the man repairing your weapon. Fallout/Post-Nuclear War!AU.

Fandom: Seventeen

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Woozi x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, Woozi and Reader being assholes to each other

Word Count: 3955

A/N: Will I ever stop writing for Seventeen? No. Will I ever stop writing game au’s? Probably not. As I said in my Mingyu one, don’t get put off by this being a Fallout AU, it isn’t that central to the story, and I hope it’s still enjoyable for everyone to read, but just ask me if there’s anything you’re confused about, I’ll be happy to answer! I wanted to write for Woozi bc I absolutely adore him and why not write for your bias wrecker haw haw help. But yeah, this is a classic enemies to lovers trope bc I’m a sucker for that type of stuff. Also just picture Jihoon being like, a weapons mechanic or whatever and being sweaty and working hard and ugh stop it. I really hope you give it a chance and enjoy it! Happy reading, ily all!

 - PART 2 -

The heat of the sun bore down on your skin, sweat pooling into nearly every crevice of your body as the sun seared into the leather bonds and cotton long johns that sat on your frame as a pathetic excuse for armour, leaving you more than irritably sticky and exhausted. The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you made your way through the tore up streets, dodging stray pipes ready to slice your head off from their position in the walls and climbing over car wreckages whose engines have long been silenced over 200 years ago, eyes half-heartedly scanning the corners for raiders or thugs ready to point their pistols at you and steal the caps stashed at the bottom of your rucksack.

Not that you felt like you cared at the moment, to be quite honest. The blaring sun and the hours long walk, sneaking past enemies and taking out the ones who caught you have, to put it frankly, completely drained you faster than you drained all your water supplies in a single day. A raider could easily pop out from whatever hidey hole he’s dug himself, put a shiny one right between your half-closed eyes, and you’d thank him for putting you out of your misery. You were that tired.

And what made this hellish journey even worse was your destination – and your problem. Some time ago your favourite rifle took a tumble from your position on the broken, open second floor of a house you were staying in one night, and when you hopped down to retrieve it, you were heartbroken to find it smashed at the barrel, trigger bent sideways, and completely useless.

Normally you would just toss the weapon aside and grab the newest one you could find, making do, a common occurrence in the wasteland. But this rifle meant something to you, it was special. It was your first one, given to you by your father before he…well. It was important to you, and you needed it fixed. Unfortunately, you didn’t know how to repair the thing, and so that brought you to start your trek towards the last place you wanted to be.

Diamond fucking City. "The Great Green Jewel" of the Commonwealth.

Diamond City – while a hub of trade, services, security and life – was also home to complete nutters and crazies, and that wasn’t even counting the ones trying to kill you yet. Brawlers, thieves, con-artists, and now synths were apparently added to the mix, the city was a complete shitshow, to put it kindly, and to put the icing on the sweetroll, it was all controlled by a racist asshole who liked to keep his civilians as obedient as he thought he could. But, that being said, the city was the only successful one in the Commonwealth, booming with activity, and the only one you somewhat trusted closest to you.

And so you walked for days on end; starving, parched, and sick of it all. Your lips were cracked and drier than the trees standing in the countryside, feet more swollen than a Super mutants head, and limbs moving slower than a Brahmin cow. But still you walked. And by the grace of whatever sadistic deity left above, you reached the entrance of the city, the guards shifting in their positions and shooting you suspicious glares. The one directly outside the gates lifted his gun to you, standing straighter, prepared to shoot you down where you (barely) stood should you try anything. Not that you had the energy, even if you wanted to.

“Hold up,” he grunted, shoulders hunched into a defensive position while you wavered in place, swaying slightly side to side in order to keep yourself upright. “Who’re you and what’s your business here?”

You tried to reply, you really did, but all that came out was a lousy croak of your name, followed by a short coughing fit. “I’m here for weapon repairs,” you managed, breathing heavy, and so completely done with this conversation already. As if you were going to make the city any worse.

The guard shuffled, moving his balance foot to foot, as he mulled you over, eyeing you head to toe. A guard taking watch on the rafters whistled to grab his attention, the young mans’ eyes flitting upwards to him in surprise.

“Let em in, Kookie. They ain’t gonna cause any problem, and they’re just here for business. Just let em through,” he ordered, the toothpick in his mouth moving with each syllable that rolled off of his tongue, scratching at his back lazily as he leaned against the railings. The guard – Kookie – furrowed is brows in uncertainty, eyes flickering between your deadpan face and the other guard. He licked nervously at his lips, fingers fumbling around his rifle.

“But, Johnny, Mayor McDonough said-“

“McDonough said keep the bad ones out. And my excellent judge of character says they ain’t a bad one,” he drawled, fixing Kookie with a look that screamed ‘are you that dumb?’ “McDonough also don’t want anything stopping business in his city, especially a greenie guard. That’ll look very bad on you, kid.”

Kookie look like he wanted to say more, but what could he say? He was only new, and Johnny has been manning the entrance for years. He has to trust his superior. Nodding in satisfaction at Kookie’s compliance, he turned his gaze to you, flashing a smile enough to rival the Cheshire Cat’s you’ve seen in those books your father showed you when you were little. “I’ll open up the gate for you. Head on in, dollface. Welcome to Diamond City.”

You were too dead to make a comment on the nickname, instead throwing a lacklustre salute in Johnny’s direction and ignoring Kookie’s scowl as his eyes followed your form, heading deeper into most popular civilisation in the Commonwealth.

What struck you first was the lights, the entire city lit top to bottom in various types – open flame, bulbs, neon signs, even floodlights – the entire city illuminated and glowing, which only served to highlight the mass of citizens sprawled throughout the area. The noise levels were high, something you weren’t used to unless it was from the occasional scream of pain in the distance. The noise was filled with chatter, people actually having conversations, or promoting their trade from their stalls scattered throughout the centre, and music from the city’s radio station echoed throughout the space faintly, creating an almost happy atmosphere as you walked to the centre.

It was completely alien to you, to see this many people together and not have them try to shoot you, or watching them fight, or any other negative you could find in the book. It also made you do a double take on the city’s reputation. While you were cautious of the metropolis, a seed of mistrust planted firmly in the pit of your gut, you reasoned that the city wouldn’t have stood for as long as it did if it really was full of lunatics and thugs. Maybe this place wasn’t that bad.

Maybe.

When your jaded eyes landed on what looked to be a restaurant in the very centre, manned by one of those Protectron robots and wearing what looked to be an absurd chef’s hat placed neatly on his metallic head and stirring a large pot, you nearly wept with relief, dragging your heavy legs and plonking yourself on one of the stools, burying your head into your arms on the counter in front of you and heaving the longest sigh you think you’ve ever made in your existence.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

You slowly raise your head from its place in your arms, eyes searching around the area for the person who addressed you, only finding one guy sitting a seat away from yours, slurping on noodles contentedly.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

You faced forward, the lights on the Protectron gleaming as he spoke, the waves in his voice bouncing with an electronic twinge. You shot him a confused stare, but he was unperturbed as expected of a robot, continuously stirring his large pot of noodles automatically.

“What?” you asked, positively baffled. Were you too tired to understand basic speech now?

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

You heard a chuckle resonate near you from the only other occupant at the noodle bar. He shot you a friendly grin when you turned your head, still chuckling in pity at your expression.

“Just say yes,” he told you ominously, and while you narrowed your eyes in distrust, you did as instructed.

“Ye-es,” you dragged out the word, confusion lacing your tone and a brow raised on your dirtied face. The robot’s metal claws picked up a bowl from the table, monotonously spooning noodles into the chipped ceramic dish and pushing it towards you when he was finished.

“That’s Takahashi, he cooks the noodles here,” the man explained, inclining his head to the robot who happily stirred his pot. “The noodles cost 20 caps, just put em in the box on the bar.”

Nodding in understanding, you took the sufficient caps from your bag, placing them in said box and promptly digging in, practically inhaling the food your stomach cried out for in the past few days, barely even feeling the burn on your tongue as you swallowed the savoury substance, eyes nearly falling shut in happiness.

“Thanksh man,” you mumbled around a mouthful, too impatient and hungry to stop eating and address the guy who helped you. He smiled slightly at you as you ate, spooning his own a lot more gracefully into his mouth.

“No problem, I was confused when I first got here too. I’m Scoups,” he introduced, hand reaching out to shake your own, his nearly encasing yours whole with how large it was. You returned the greeting once you swallowed. The red glow from the fairy lights strung around the tarp of the noodle bar cast shadows on his smiling face, a genuine smile, such a rare sight in the wasteland. “So, what brings you to Diamond City? Looking for a place to stay?”

You licked sauce off your lips, swirling your noodles absentmindedly in their bowl. You nodded, nails tapping against the table. Scoups bobbed his head in understanding, folding his thick arms on the countertop. “Do you know anyone who can repair weapons?” you asked, and Scoups grinned, mischief swirling in his dark orbs.

“Look around,” he laughed, a wave of his arm accentuating his words, your eyes roaming the space that was littered with all types of services – from mechanics, armourers, merchants, even a hairdresser. “The better question would be where can’t you get it repaired. Pick your poison. But if I were you, I’d go see Woozi. He’s the best in the City for a reason. I’ll take you to see him after you’ve finished eating. You look exhausted.”

You smiled at him in gratitude, one he returned amiably, and finished your meal, listening to him as he explained the layout and manners of the infamous Green Jewel that was Diamond City. A short while later with a belly blissfully stuffed and feeling rejuvenated, you followed Scoups as he led you to one of booths in the city, this one covered with various bits and pieces from weapons hung around the sides and a simple metal sign with ‘Woozi’s’ carved into it hanging high above. Scoups didn’t walk the full distance to the stall, only pointed out its location and mumbling a ‘good luck with him, you’ll need it’ and a ‘see you later’ before he was heading off in the direction of what looked to be a bar.

Edging closer to the stall, you could see the parts more clearly, the grey of the booth littered with scopes and barrels along the walls, some weapons sitting on display on random boxes for all to see, looking in better condition than any gun you’ve ever seen, even shiner than anything you’ve ever seen. Standing at the entrance, the stall was smaller than expected, only bearing the essentials and locks for protection. Sitting at a workbench was who you suspected to be the man himself, fiddling with a shotgun and a look of utmost concentration upon his face that could only ever be found on the most skilled marksmen.

Sweat lined his forehead, falling from his hairline and down his temple, and the occasional oil mark was splattered across his face, on his cheeks, chin, even the bridge of his nose. His teeth bit into the skin of his lower lip, the flesh red and plump from constant worry, and his eyebrows were furrowed almost angrily, as if frustrated with his work, twitching every so often in annoyance, nostrils flaring with every heavy breath that ached to leave his chest. He was definitely one of the better-looking men you’ve seen in the wasteland – a strange feeling in your chest spreading through your tired limbs the longer you stared at him. He had a strange allure, certainly, a man dedicated to his craft with an air of no nonsense about him that was a well needed trait for survival. And that tingly feeling in your stomach was certainly strange, perhaps even more alien to you than the city you stood in.

“You’re in my light.”

Huh?

“What?”

A sharp exhale left the lips you’ve been focusing on far too much to be normal just moments ago, his gloved hands placing the shotgun down carefully and shifting in his stool to face you, pulling the gloves off finger by finger as he stared at you with an expression that almost made you flush with embarrassment, as if you had just done the most stupid thing possible.

“I said,” he spoke deliberately slow, like one would when dealing with a child who didn’t understand what they’ve done was bad, and it had sparks of annoyance flashing through you. The nerve of this guy! “You’re in my light. Or are you deaf? Too many beatings to the head?”

You now understood why Scoups wished you luck when dealing with this guy. You needed it, because each passing second only made you want to punch this guy so hard he’ll be headed straight for New Vegas on the other side of the country.

“There’s light everywhere, jackass,” you retorted, glancing around and at the sky. It was still midday, still hot as hell, and just when you thought you were feeling better, you get sent to this jerk who’ll be responsible for fixing your rifle. If you’ll even let him, at this point. “Or are you that petty?”

Woozi looked untroubled by your comment, resting his left elbow on the table and leaning his weight on it, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. A smirk you wanted to kick right off his pretty face.

“I need to be able to see what I’m doing. You don’t get to be the best in the city by doing a half-assed job,” he boasted, looking as smug as a raider who just found a huge box of caps on some poor helpless traveller he butchered.

“Then I suggest find a candle and some matches, day light doesn’t last forever,” you suggested cheekily, pleased with the scoff he gave and downturn of his lips. God, this was infuriating. You don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over this. “I need my rifle repaired,” you settled for getting straight to the point. The sooner you could get into a bed, the better.

“Well, no shit. It’s kinda what I do,” he sassed, his stupid perfect brow raised and dark eyes scanning your form, head to toe. You squirmed under his scrutiny, suddenly conscious of the dust caked on your face, the scars littering your body, the dirt hidden beneath your nails. It was foolish, really. Things like good looks and hygiene weren’t a priority anymore, but for some reason you felt like you should have at least scrubbed up a bit before coming to see this man.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. It’s not like you had to impress him.

Certainly not.

You barked out a sarcastic laugh in response, face dry and showing no semblance of humour whatsoever. “Funny, twerp,” his lip curled into a snarl at the insult, “I know that. I was told to come here because you were apparently good. Scoups sent me.”

“Scoups?” he questioned in faint surprise. He hummed, regarding you thoughtfully before eventually sighing in resignation. “Show me this rifle of yours, and I’ll see what can be done,” he sat up straighter, hands facing palm up and awaiting your prized possession. You reached into your rucksack for the rifle that lay sadly at the bottom, dragging it out carefully and placing it into his hands, watching as that concentrated expression from before returned to his face, looking much older than you expect it to be.

His slender fingers toyed with the weapon, running up and down the barrel, pushing the trigger around and giving it a shake, an awful rattling noise resounding from the simple action and simultaneously putting a grimace on both your face and Woozi’s. After another moment of inspection, he placed the rifle down on the table next to the shotgun and left his stool to rummage through crates of spare parts and tools, metal clanging bouncing against the walls of his booth.

“I’ve never seen a barrel that badly smashed before,” he observed, planting various tools onto the surface of the workbench, the table soon filling with wrenches and screwdrivers and pliers, more than you’ve ever seen in one spot before. Taking a seat once again at the table, he placed the shotgun to the side, focusing his attention on your rifle again as he brought it to eye level, a tut of frustration leaving his mouth. “I can fix the trigger no problem, but the barrel is another story. If I was you, kid, I’d just dump it and get a new-“

“No!” you blurted out, panic putting a fresh weight on your chest. You needed this to get fixed. Woozi stared at you in bewilderment, eyes wide in confusion and fingers stalling their movements. There was a beat of silence as you simply stared at each other; Woozi silent as he awaited and explanation, and you silent in shame, heat crawling up your neck. “Please,” you plead, voice near mute but heavy with desperation. “This gun means a lot to me, and I really need it fixed. I can’t do without it. Please.”

It must have been the waver in your voice, or perhaps the shake of your hands, or even the dulling of your eyes that had Woozi’s hardened stare softening until was just blank, returning his gaze to the weapon in question. His tongue poked at his cheek and you watched the action, a cold feeling freezing your body in place as you waited in horrible anticipation. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes, swiftly looking away when he met your saddened expression, a faint blush blossoming on his skin, and then he was rolling his eyes, huffing out a quick breath and turning his body around.

“It’s gonna take some time, and a lot of supplies,” he announced, his glare having lost the venomous edge it had and instead just a plain old bothered expression similar to an old man’s. “But, I might be able to get it fixed. No promises though,” he added quickly, but you were too elated to really care, body sagging in relief and a grin stretching ear to ear on your muddy visage.

“Thank you so much,” you beamed, that heavy weight lifting off your chest and your heart feeling brighter for what felt like the first time in months. The blush on his face grew darker as he saw you smile, his own smirk growing on his lips as he gave you a sly look.

“Gonna cost you a good amount of caps too so don’t look too happy, sugar,” he drawled, and your joy began to deflate slowly like air out of a tire. Right, the cost. Shit.

“What’s the damage?” you inquired, forehead creasing in worry as you thought of the little cache in your bag. Fuck, you didn’t need this to burn a hole in your savings, you still need to find a room to stay in and get food and drink. Woozi examined his tools and the rifle, mentally calculating the effort it would take to repair it.

“Giving the time and supplies I need, I’d say around…500-600 caps.”

“500 fucking caps?!” you shrieked. “I don’t even have half of that! And I still need to find somewhere to stay!” Fucking hell, you really couldn’t get a break, could you?

Woozi made a hissing noise that sounded like it was half in mock sympathy, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can you do about it?’ sort of motion. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to find some work around the city then. Plenty that needs to be done, I’m sure. In the meantime, I’ll be slaving away over your precious rifle. But it’ll be done. I’m not a genius for nothing. So, will you have the money or does this conversation end here?”

Your fists clenched at your sides, once again supressing to urge to knock his teeth out of his skull, and clearly, he could tell, smirk growing and eyes narrowing in a challenge. “I’ll have the money. Just…please fix that rifle. I’ll pay you when you’re done.”

“Don’t worry, your rifle will get repaired. But I only accept half up front, and the rest when the jobs done,” he explained. Ah, just another bit of Deathclaw shit dropped on top of your day. This’ll leave you with a dent in your caps, hopefully you can find some work soon, or else you’ll be broke and living on the streets without any way to pay for the gun you’ve walked miles to sort.

“Fine,” you grumbled, hands hurriedly pulling the box out from the bottom and pouring them directly onto Woozi’s workbench, watching as some toppled off the edge and onto the floor of his workshop, loud clinks ringing in their wake. At least you still have that other little bag of caps hidden in your spare clothes. Woozi looked pissed at the mess you made, chest blowing up and deflating thickly as he tried to contain his anger. After all, he couldn’t really say much, you had given him the caps.

“There should be around 220 caps in that,” you announced, closing your bag and shifting it on your back. “I’ll have the rest when you’re done. Bye”

And then you were off, walking back into the throng of people of Diamond City, eyes open for any opportunity for work and shoulders slumped in misery. Woozi was baffled by you, to say the least. In all his time working in this God-forsaken shithole of a city, he’s never met anyone quite like you, quite so…like him. He’s met compliant, kind customers, and he’s met outright assholes who he almost refused to service if the pay wasn’t worth it, but you were different. He got a kick out of how much he pissed you off, how your lovely face would scrunch up in irritation, and tasted his own medicine when you threw it right back at him. Definitely more than meets the eye, with you. But as he stared at your rifle, thumbs rubbing against the dents and cracks, he figured that he’d be done with you soon once this was over and never have to see you again.

Oh, how wrong he was.

And oh, what an interesting week this will prove to be.

[wrinkly-writer]

Scarlet Tears

Dappled light filters through the trees and paints the pine-needle ground in liquid shadows. The forest in the early afternoon is calm, and the breeze sings a breathy song among the leaves of the maple and oak.  A lone twig snaps beneath Scarlet’s foot as she hurries along the deer trail, but she ignores it, focusing instead on the path ahead of her.  She squints as she steps into another patch of sunlight and tugs her hood down to better cover her eyes.  It’s too bright, but the breeze feels nice as it catches in her cloak and eddies up her spine.

The dog, Snowball, vaults along beside her, his white, shaggy fur gleaming silver in the spring light. He weaves among the trees, sniffing for squirrels and rabbits—hunting, as wolfhounds are so inclined. Disappearing behind a pine, the dog catches the scent of some animal, perhaps a fox or a skunk, and veers away, his nose glued to the ground.

Taking in the tranquil forest around her, Scarlet doesn’t care that she can’t see the dog anymore.  He’s spent the entire walk wandering to and fro, and Scarlet is less than concerned about his safety.  She knows that he knows his way around the forest—he's made the trek to Grandma's more than once, too—but she can't help but hope that he'll get lost along the way. After all, she hadn't particularly wanted to bring him in the first place.

Adjusting the basket on her arm, Scarlet steps back into the shadows and continues along the trail.

(Continued under the break!)

“Take him with you, Scarlet.”  Her mother pulled a tray of perfectly golden-brown cookies from the oven in the wall.  “You know how much your grandmother likes to see him.”  She set the tray on a trivet on the counter.  

From where she stood by the door, Scarlet could feel the heat rolling out of the oven in waves.  “But he’s loud, and gross, and he’s always wandering off.”  Scarlet crossed her arms indignantly, a toddler’s pout beginning to grace her teenage face.  “It’ll take twice as long to get there!”

“I don’t care.”  The older woman carefully moved the cookies onto a rack to cool before turning to stare down her daughter.  Her eyes were firm, and her eyebrow quirked just slightly in a practiced expression of deliberate mom-ness.  “You’re taking him, whether you like it or not.” Scarlet opened her mouth to argue. "One more word and you're grounded."  She lined a basket with a gingham blanket and settled the cookies inside.  Handing the basket to her daughter, she ushered the girl outside.

Scarlet huffed a sigh.  Though she knew her grandmother shared the same sentiments about the dog—he always dug up her perfectly manicured flower beds—she also knew there was no arguing with her mother.  “Yes, Mother. Snowball, come!”  The white wolfhound slunk around the side of the house and disappeared into the trees.

Though she whines and complains, Scarlet doesn’t mind making the two-mile trek to her grandmother’s house.  It’s faster this way, being able to cut through the dense woods across the mountain instead of having to drive down and around.  She enjoys her time out on the deer trail, and sometimes she stops to follow the tracks that lead off into the trees with her eyes, but she never dares to stray far from the path.  

“Ben, we need to go back!” The siblings had been following the edge of the ridge, and the trees stopped looking familiar ten minutes ago. The setting sun painted the sky a muted pink.  Ten-year-old Scarlet hurried to keep up with Ben, her shorter legs struggling to match his long, adolescent strides.

“Just a little further, Scarlet.  You’re not scared, are you?”  He looked over his shoulder at her, his cornflower-blue eyes bearing down on her, daring her to say yes.

“No!”  Scarlet straightened and puffed out her chest.  She wasn’t afraid.  Just worried.

“So hurry up!”  Ben led them away from the ridge and back into the thick of the forest. He took her on a game of Follow the Leader, weaving around thickets and climbing over the gnarled root systems of the ancient pines.  He jumped from one root to the next, crossing wider and wider expanses until he found one that she couldn’t quite make.

It was too late when Scarlet realized that she wouldn’t reach the other side, and her feet broke through the layer of branches that covered the ground.  

Her heel was caught on a root, but there wasn’t much else to keep her from falling further into the hole and nothing to help her wiggle out; it was dark inside the hole, and the cool earth pressed firmly against Scarlet’s body.  With arms and hands pinned above her head, she was stuck.

“Scarlet?  Where the Hell’d you go?”  She could hear Ben calling, but from much further away than she liked.  “Seriously, Scarlet. Come on!”

“Ben!”  Scarlet tilted her head back as far as she could, hoping the dirt and empty expanse below didn’t swallow the sound.  Her heart was pounding in her chest, beating so hard against her ribs that she was afraid the bones would break.  

Something warm and familiar grasped her hand, and Scarlet’s pounding heart jumped into her throat.  “Hold on, Scarlet.  I’ll get you out.”  Ben’s calloused hands wrapped around her forearms, and she gripped his in return, holding on as tight as she could.  “On three. One…two…three!”  Ben called as he yanked. Scarlet shoved, and a searing pain flashed through her shoulders.  She could feel the tendons and muscles pulling too far, burning to keep the joint in its socket.

“Stop!”  The pain ceased as Ben stopped pulling, and Scarlet found that she’d only moved a few inches. She stood on the balls of her feet, balanced precariously on the root that just wasn’t quite big enough.  

“I’m gonna pull again, Scarlet.”  Ben adjusted his grip on her forearms and prepared to pull. “One…”

A deep growl reverberated in the earth beneath Scarlet’s feet, and her heart dropped into her stomach.  “Ben—”  

“Two…”  

Sharp teeth sunk into Scarlet’s calf and a scream exploded from her throat.

“THREE!”  

Ben yanked and Scarlet kicked, lashing out at the toothy monster with her feet.  Feeling her heel make contact with a soft protuberance, Scarlet pushed with all her ten-year-old might.  As her head and shoulders cleared the surface, Ben grabbed her across the chest and hauled her the rest of the way from the hole.

The two scrambled away and collapsed in a heap on the uneven ground.  A tan snout followed by yellow-brown eyes followed them into the light.  The coyote’s ears were pressed flat to its head, and it bared its teeth in a menacing snarl.  With a final warning growl, the coyote retreated into its den.

Ben stood and shakily brushed off the seat of his pants. “Can you stand?”  Scarlet looked up at him with watery eyes and a quivering lip. The leg of her jeans was torn, and the fabric that remained quickly turned dark red.  “That was dumb.  I’ll carry you.”

From then on, Scarlet has stayed on the path.  Making Grandma’s deliveries used to be Ben’s job, but since he’d left for college, the job had fallen on Scarlet.  She doesn’t really mind; she likes spending time with her grandmother.  A kindly woman, thin with blue eyes, white-blonde hair, and rosy cheeks, Eleanor is the type of grandmother to give her grandchildren too much sugar before sending them back to their parents.  Scarlet and Ben never complain.

Scarlet hesitates as she reaches a fork in the trail.  The northern path narrows, curling between prickly brambles and the underbrush.  The southern path widens, the deer trail becoming something that more closely resembles a dirt road.  Oaks and sycamores line the road, their dancing leaves shading only the edges of the path.  Scarlet wanders down the center, following the divots she recognizes as tire tracks.

The warm sun shines on her back, and the heat feels good against the breeze.  Clay colored dust kicks up around her feet as she walks, and Scarlet thinks about how she’s going to have to wash her jeans when she gets home. Down the road the trees thin to be replaced by sprawling flower beds.  Perfectly manicured gardens of poppies, lilies, hyacinth, and rhododendron, all her grandmother’s favorites, spread across a wide lawn.  

The quaint single-story house sits in the middle of the clearing, its goldenrod-yellow siding gleaming from its recent power-wash.  Two rocking chairs and a table sit peacefully on the grey porch, waiting for Scarlet to sit with a glass of sweet tea.  From where she stands at the iron gate, Scarlet can see that the curtains in the bay window are drawn, and the window itself is thrown open, allowing a cross-breeze to flow through the house.  Snowball sits on the porch, his tail wagging happily, a dark crimson staining his muzzle and neck.  A dead rabbit lay on the bottom step.

Scarlet’s lip curls as she approaches the rabbit.  She can’t see the mortal wound, but she knows there’ll be blood to clean off the porch later. The dog tries to lick her hand as she passes and she shoves him away with her knee.

“Gross.”

Scarlet knocks twice on the door, and when there’s no reply, she tries the knob.  It’s unlocked, and the door swings open with a creak familiar to an old house.  The living-room is bright, sunlight filtering in through the open windows.  Everything is neat and tidy, just as it always is when Scarlet visits.  Books on sewing and quilting are stacked neatly on the coffee table, and photos of Scarlet, Ben, and their parents are placed strategically around the room.

“Grandma?  It’s me!”  Scarlet calls out, as she always does when her grandmother isn’t in view. She moves through the room, bypassing the immaculate kitchen to peer through the window in the back door.  The yard is empty, except for the newly planted tulips that sway gently in the breeze.

Finding the front of the house empty, Scarlet makes her way down the hallway.  Her fingers trail along the mahogany wood-paneling, skipping past the watercolor paintings that hang in uneven intervals on either side of the hall.  The first door is open, revealing the empty pastel pink bathroom.  The long-unused guest room across the hall is also empty, the antique furniture spic and span.

The third, and final, door is slightly ajar.  Though Scarlet cannot see inside the room, an overwhelming sense of dread washes over her. Reaching out, Scarlet pushes the door open.  She sees her fingers make contact with the white-painted wood, but synapses won’t fire and she cannot comprehend what she sees on the other side.  

Inside the room, feathers coat every surface like snow; the down bedspread and pillows have been torn to shreds.  The bedside table lays on its side, one of its legs splintered into three pieces.  A basket of laundry is tipped over, and half-folded clothes spill across the floor.  The window is open, and rough gouges mar the sill, deep wounds in the oak.

Crimson smears across the hardwood flooring lead to the bed, where Scarlet’s grandmother lay dead. Her throat is bared, the deep red of her larynx and trachea an open exhibition for the world, the ragged tears in the skin exposing flesh, fat, and organ.  A river of blood flows down the torn skin and pools on the comforter, soaking into the pale green fabric.  The shining blue eyes that had once reminded Scarlet of the sky are now dull and dry as they stare at the ceiling, a film of death coating the irises.

A light breeze stirs the feathers scattered around the room, and they dance across the floor like errant snowflakes.  A tuft of silvery fur caught in the splintered sill sways gently in the breeze.