#cares about absolutely none of it until she finds out that she's hungry

[fieldofdaisiies]

Just a Little Bit Of Your Heart pt. IV

ship: Azriel x Reader type: fluff word count: 2,1k  warnings: none summary: Something special has happened..... fic masterlist

You find yourself lying in the cocoon of Azriel's strong arms, wings spread beneath his tall body. Your breaths mingle in the air between your faces, the silence of the room only interrupted by the sounds of your mouths touching and the little moans leaving you. Strays of moonlight filter through the curtains, casting silvery hues across the walls.

Azriel's hand, calloused and scarred but so tender in its caress, cups your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin. His eyes, like warm honey meet yours. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you so much, my mate."

The word still somehow sounds so foreign. But it makes your heart flutter, your chest warm. The glowing ribbons connecting your souls stretches out and brings your bodies closer together. 

"You are my world, my mate," you whisper, "you and Everly." 

"You are my world. My everything. You and Everly." Tears glisten in both your eyes about the happiness you are feeling. This is wonderful and perfect. 

Azriel kisses the corner of your mouth, fingers stroking down your neck. Then his lips close over yours, simultaneously to his finger hooking under the strap of your nightgown. He parts your lips with his tongue, brushing yours, deepening the kiss, but ending it way too quickly. 

A sly smile dances on his lips when he meets your gaze, chuckling the pout on your mouth. "Have we ever properly consummated the bond, my mate?" he asks, his voice carrying along sensual promises. 

"Haven't we?" you purr and memories flood your brain. Your best friend had looked over Everly the day after the bond had snapped. You couldn't…you had needed him so much, there was no other way. It was the bond's doing and you only gave Everly away for half a day. But during this time, Azriel and you have not once left the bedroom. He took you against every possible furniture and when you ran out of those he took you against the wall, on the floor and even on the windowsill. 

You were completely blissed out by the end of it, and basically walked on clouds when your best friend returned little Everly. She wore a shit-eating grin, remarking a million times how exhausted you looked. 

You had to give her that - you probably really did. But you did not care. It was all worth it.

And just the thought about once again having sex with Azriel…after quite some time without intimacy sounds incredibly good and already makes your blood heat. 

"Maybe we should have a do-over then?" You raise your brow at him and Azriel is quick to close the distance between your lips, his broad hands braced on both sides of your head. He leans over you, wedging in between your thighs, deepening the kiss. "Maybe we should," he rasps against your lips, rolling his hips against yours- his hardest parts pressing against your softest. 

Your hand slides into his hair and you kiss him with new-found vigour, tugging softly because it draws the absolute most beautiful and adorable sounds from your mate. He groans softly, hand sliding down your torso so he can pull up your nightgown. 

It is all perfect, arousal acute on both sides, until—

Until all of a sudden, a distant cry pierces through the silence. A faint whimper drifts from the room next door where your little bundle of joy should be peacefully asleep. 

"She’s hungry," you whisper against the shadowsinger's lips. Azriel pulls back the slightest bit and smiles, his eyes still closed. A low chuckle leaves him. "Just like her mother - always hungry…but for different kind of things." A smirk appears on his lips, he can’t hide it and you feel a blush creep into your cheeks. 

"Azriel!" you reprimand and shove at his chest. He laughs again and you love the sound - it’s so rich and pure, a low rumble that makes the hair on your body stand on end. He kisses your lips again, but when the cry sounds again he sits up, back on his heels and looses a long breath. 

"I‘ll go to her, you get some sleep." He smiles when he is about to move of the bed, but ypu reach for him, stopping him.

"Unfortunately you don’t have what she wants right now - my boobies." Chuckling you point at your chest and Azriel’s eyes follow, lingering for a moment and then he bows. "Right…" he breathes but then lifts his head with a bright smile.

"I‘ll still get her. She can drink here. And then she can sleep here." Now, he moves of the bed, your laugh following him until he is out of the door.

Somehow, nearly every night Azriel finds a way to let her sleep in your bed. He always says he loves it when his whole family is together. It brings him and also you so much joy, you would never say no. And why should you? All three of you here…it’s just perfect. You would have never ever dreamed of a life like this. And especially not with Azriel. One night of pleasure and fun…you would have never thought it would lead to that. That you are now living together. That you have a daughter. That you are…mated. 

The word is so…it feels so incredibly surreal. You hadn’t really believed in mating bonds prior to the moment it snapped between Azriel and you. He cried. You were overwhelmed and of course cried as well.

Only a few weeks ago your life had been wholly different, but you would never want to turn back time. Everything is perfect the way it is. With your little family.

"Sshh, it’s all good, little bat." Azriel’s low and gentle voice alongside soft mewling reaches you through the half-open door. You have to smile. You can’t avoid it.

He pushes open the door with his foot and steps in, little Everly cradled to his bare chest. A sight for sore eyes…and it truly brings tears to your eyes..

You were so worried to raise her alone. For her to never meet her father. All these worries are gone now. She has Azriel as her father…the best male both you and her could have ever hoped for.

He walks over to bed, shadows guiding him as his gaze is fixed upon the little babe in his arms, his eyes not once lifting. He still looks mesmerised when looking at her — fully in awe and admiration of the little bundle.

Azriel braces his knee on the bed, bends at the waist and kisses the top of your head. Then he hands you little Everly, still mewling and pursing her lips.

The moment you remove your shirt, and bring her to your breast, the mewling stops, her eyes lighting up and she begins to suckle happily.

Azriel climbs onto the bed again, sitting down next to you, his arm naturally curling around your shoulders to bring you to his chest. You rest against him, exhaling a long breath, the tip of your finger brushing over her cheek. "She got that from you," you giggle and tip your head back to meet his gaze. Azriel raises a brow and gives you a questioning look. 

"The love for my boobies!" You have to laugh at that (of course only softly to not disturb little Everly with the shaking of your chest). But a loud and whole-hearted laugh leaves Azriel, his eyes lighting up like the stars in the night sky. "My mate," he says after a moment of laughing, squeezing you to his side. "You are very right."

You sit in silence while Everly drinks, solely enjoying the peaceful moment. Azriel's fingers stroke up and down your upper arm, his gaze focused on Everly. His shadows dance over her, brushing her and your hand softly. You hum to yourself until she is done and you let her do her little burp.

It always makes Azriel giggle and you love the sound. It is so pure, so joyful. 

As usual he kisses her little head when you place her between the two of you, tucking her close, Azriel's arm wrapping around the both of you, his head placed next to her body, yours on the other side.

"I love you, Y/N" Azriel whispers. "And I will never ever be able to thank you enough for bringing me such happiness and luck." You reach out your hand and caress his cheek. "I love you, Azriel."

Everly is not yet sleeping, cooing and babbling a little. You rest your hand on her belly, fingertips brushing her chin. She is still so tiny. So fragile. And yet such a large wonder in your life. The best thing that could have ever happened to the two of you. 

"Can you sing for her?" you whispers and kiss his shoulder. "Can you sing for us?"

Azriel doesn't have to be told twice. He has never been one to like singing for an audience - but for his two favourite girls? He loves to sing. He loves how much warmth and happiness reaches him through the bond and how easily Everly falls asleep when he sings for her. 

Hush, little baby don't you

Hush, little baby don't say a word

Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird

And if that mocking bird don't sing

Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"She looks exactly like you, Azzy." A big grin adorns Cassian's face, his eyes jumping between his brother and the little babe in his brother's arms. "Even the small wings — exactly like yours."

Cassian seems absolutely amazed. 

"She is beautiful," Nesta mumbles with admiration in her voice. "But what else is there to expect with a mother like you, Y/N."

You immediately blush at the compliment. And their kindness. They accepted you so easily. You immediately became a part of the family. They also accepted Everly so easily. It's now their second time seeing her, but last time was really short, this time you will spend more time here. Letting her meet her family. 

"Oh, Nesta," you whisper and shake your head. Your hand rests on Azriel's thigh and you squeeze softly. A little sign to show him how much this means to you. How happy it makes you. 

And it makes him just as happy. Now Azriel's family is truly complete. He has a mate. A child. He has his own family. It is all perfect now. Everything he has ever hoped for came true and he couldn't be any happier. 

And now seems the perfect moment to…

"We've got something else we need to tell you," Azriel says. He removes one arm from Everly and moves his hand over yours, squeezing softly. You meet his gaze and dip your chin, telling him that it is the perfect timing to reveal it now. 

"We are sitting on hot coals, Azzy, tell us!" Cassian impatiently expresses and then giggles at the tiny baby girl wrapping her little hand around his finger, tugging softly. Tears glisten in his eyes, both at the little wonder and the happiness he feels for his brother. You and Everly are exactly what Azriel deserves and he couldn't be happier that his brother has found such luck. And now, he is burning to find out what you have to tell them. Maybe you are getting married.

Azriel looses a long breath, meets your gaze and then looks at Cassian. "Somehow…as unexpected as everything else in our union is, Y/N and I have discovered," —he interrupts himself with a big grin. He can't go on for a moment, a single tear sliding out of his eye— "that we are mates." 

"The bond snapped a four days ago," you add and lean over to kiss Azriel's cheek. 

Gasps rumble through the room and then his family breaks out in soft cheers and delighted congratulations, both Azriel's brothers, Rhysand and Cassian lunging for him, always careful of the baby in his arms. The females come to you and congratulate you and this is when the damn breaks and you start to cry — tears of happiness. 

"Mated and a father within such a short time…Az, I must say I am truly impressed," Cassian chuckles and clasps Azriel's shoulder in his hand. "And very happy about it."

"You have no idea how happy I am," the shadowsinger answer and smiles at his brother, then his gaze returns to you, locking. "How happy you made me."

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend to lose weight?

Okay, so that sounds horrific, but bear with me.

To be clear, I (23M) could not care less what weight she (27F) is or what she looks like. I love this woman with my whole heart and none of it is about her appearance. We’re pretty much engaged in all but name, the only reason it’s not official is because we don’t have money to even think of weddings right now, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with her.

Thing is, she’s obese. Like, medically, not in a derogatory sense. This is massively affecting her health. She’s constantly out of breath, constantly in pain, constantly struggling, and it’s leading to other conditions such as sleep apnea. She thinks she has asthma because she’s always struggling to breathe, but I’m 95% sure it just comes down to weight and her doctor has said the same, but she tends to write it off as doctors being fatphobic.

Much of this is due to the fact that she used to struggle with binge-eating disorder. She no longer binge eats, but she does overeat in general because her body is so accustomed to constant food, so she gets painfully hungry and dizzy after 2-3 hours of not eating.

I’ve tried to encourage her to exercise with me, diet with me, count calories etc., but she gives up super easy when she doesn’t see immediately results. She also says herself that she finds it very difficult to see herself accurately - she has the reverse of “typical” body dysmorphia, where she sees herself as thinner than she is, so she genuinely sees herself as thin or like slightly curvy. (To be clear, she is very visibly obese, people comment on this often, and while I’ll be the first to go fists up if someone’s a dick to her about it as people have been I also am genuinely worried about her health.) Because of that she has no motivation to lose the weight because she just doesn’t see it. It’s bad enough that she’s been told by doctors she WILL likely struggle later in life with heart failure, diabetes etc if she doesn’t lose weight, yet her POV is more, “It can’t be that bad because I’m not that big so I don’t need to worry about it”. She has occasional reality checks, most recently she put her measurements into some site that shows an image of what you look like from a third person perspective, and she was completely shocked like “I can’t look like that. Do I? This is a wake up call”, but days later it’s completely lost and she’s back to saying she’s not that big again.

She wants kids with me, and I just absolutely do not want to commit to having children with her when I know there’s a not-insignificant chance she’ll have serious health issues in the future that could mean she’s not with us for as long as she could be. Both for the kids’ sake, and selfishly because I want her around! I don’t want to think about something happening to her earlier in life and being without her.

But I just don’t know what to do. Gently suggesting it hasn’t worked, saying I’m worried about her health hasn’t worked, saying I don’t want kids until she’s healthy hasn’t worked (even if she’s still overweight I really don’t care as long as she’s not in a “danger zone” y’know?), trying to meal plan with her hasn’t worked, trying to get her to keep track of calories hasn’t worked, trying to exercise with her hasn’t worked.

People I’ve asked in the past have told me to be firm about it, but I’m incredibly reluctant to do that - I struggled with anorexia for most of my teenage and adult life and I know how deep it can cut to have your weight criticised or commented on. I don’t want to be that dick who basically calls someone I love very much unhealthy and fat and tells her to lose weight or no kids or some horrible shit like that.

But I just. Can’t work out what to do. She does express a willingness to lose weight, she says she wants to, she just doesn’t have that motivation to do it. I don’t know what else we can try.

AITA for focusing on this in the first place? Like am I actually just being fatphobic, or is my own past with EDs influencing my thinking? Am I going about it all wrong? Should I just accept it as something that’ll be a potential issue in future and deal with it then or am I fair to worry about it early on?

What are these acronyms?

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

What they're like when you're sick

Includes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Vaggie, Valentino, Velvette, and Vox

Warnings: None

Word Count: 858

Alastor

He's indifferent and often times cruel, but if he cares about you, he's a real sweetie.

He'd bring you your favorite warm beverage.

He would cook something for you; probably something his mom made him when he was feeling under the weather as a child.

He'd check in to make sure you're resting. (You better be, or else.)

His shadow would keep you company, mostly keeping an eye on you while he's doing a broadcast.

He'd secretly be worried out of his mind, but he's to prideful to admit how much your wellbeing means to him.

Angel Dust

He's concerned as fuck; going as far as blowing off Val just to make sure you're okay.

Checks in every few hours with a new joke, just to see if you're well enough to react.

Let's you cuddle with Fat Nuggets while you sleep.

Have you eaten? Are you hungry at all? He'd grab you something quick from the kitchen, just say the word.

Watches movies with you until you pass out from exhaustion.

Practically shoves water and vitamins at you like he's a concerned mother.

Charlie

Nothing to her is more important than you getting better. Sorry world, that's just how it is.

She's practically perched at your bedside with vitamins, water, a fresh box of tissues, and a trash can.

Makes sure you eat at least one meal.

Let's you rest, but keeps close in case you need her.

Will do anything to make sure you're comfortable while your body works through the Hellish virus.

Keeps everyone else from bothering you.

Husk

He's worried about your wellbeing, but also knows you're not gonna drop dead on a whim.

Leaves crackers and medicine on your bedside table for whenever you wake up.

He conveniently only checks in when you're resting, just to make sure you're taking the recovery seriously.

Will make sure everyone knows that you're resting so that they'll try their hardest to not bother you.

Straight up goes 'dad mode' (as Angel calls it) if anyone makes a particularly loud noise that echoes off of the walls.

Sends you back to bed if you try to join everyone else. You need to rest.

Lucifer

Panics like he did whenever Charlie got sick.

Makes at least a dozen little ducks that resemble your personality so that you have his presence even when he's not in the room with you.

Brings you soup and your favorite hot beverage.

Warm compresses, warm blankets, cool room.

Gets absolutely anything you want.

Checks in on you religiously, but quietly so that he doesn't wake you.

Sir Pentious

He's literally probably the sweetest.

Will run to the store if you need something specific, no questions asked — would even leave the Egg Bois with you so you're not alone.

Has the basic necessities on hand.

Would fluff your pillows when you sat up to drink water.

Hungry? He's sending the Egg Bois downstairs to grab you something that you can eat.

He'd stay in the room and do his own thing, just to be close.

Vaggie

Is mad that you got sick, but is worried.

Would bring you your favorite sick soup if you said you were hungry. It's salty, but just what your body needs.

Death glares anyone who comes down the hallway too loud.

She would be distant, but still close by.

She's making sure your room's environment will help you get better. (Ex: cool air, warm blankets, closed curtains, etc.)

Will scold you if you get out of bed for anything other than the bathroom.

Valentino

He literally doesn't even notice at first, but once he does notice, he's sending someone to your room with your favorite hot beverage and antibiotics.

If anyone goes near your room that isn't him or the demon he's sending while he works, they're probably getting torn apart.

Every few hours, you'd wake up to find stuff on your bedside table that hadn't been there. Little trinkets, notes, and candies.

Threatens anyone who gets too loud.

At your bedside at the end of the day, making sure you drank something and at the very least took your vitamins.

Pushes you to eat something, while simultaneously leaving you alone to rest.

Velvette

You're sick!? This show is on hold until her favorite person is all better.

Refuses to go in the room without Hell's equivalent of Lysol on hand.

She comes bearing food and little trinkets to keep you occupied in your moments of boredom when you're not resting.

Will kill anyone who tries to bother you for some inane bullshit, best model or not.

Texts you periodically to make sure you're alive.

Will do research to help you the best she can.

Vox

He's watching you through the cameras and checking your vitals during his free time.

Let's you watch cartoons on his screen until you fall asleep in the late evening.

Is there with water the moment you go into a coughing fit.

Will ask around trying to figure out what to do for sick demons.

He brings you your favorite food and a weird looking stuffed animal that Velvette helped him pick out.

Works less to spend more time with you while you're recovering.

A/N: I guess these are my thing now 💅 if you want, you can join my discord here. It's absolutely no pressure if you don't want to, but if you wanna make some pretty cool friends, join in! The vibes are good like 90% of the time. If you're 18+, just make sure to let me know in the introductions chat :)

As always, my requests are open! I have 3 anon requests sitting there that I'll get to eventually — I swear I will lmao. I hope everyone enjoyed this! I love the support thst I got on the best friend's hc's <3 I appreciate all of you

[redbluesweets]

[Warning, this au contains gore, horror, and any other scary things and also loneliness please read for your own good. If your want to add your ocs in and draw it, please ask for permission.]

💭“How long has it been... Days...? Months...? Years...? Hell, I don't even care about how long I've been surviving out wild... I am cold... hungry... Weak... Can't find a damn place to stay...all because of that damn big irritating turtle! Bowser... The king of the loser koopas and absolute love suck up to Princess Peach... He literally can't leave her alone as I GOD DAMN TOLD HIM TO! He literally pisses me off with that damn anger on his face... Kamek did tell me to calm down but now Bowser started to think about something to stop... It happened since my home was in his stupid castle where his child, koopalings, his troops, and everything there...”💭

He planned a wedding to marry Peach but I'm not going to let that happen!! Bowser already planned the wedding and got the broodals to stop Mario for ruining it but I got there first and can't let this slide... Bowser already growled at me with his anger look... “Hey! Didn't I tell you to stay put?! I already got this under control so you don't have to me–” I interrupt Bowser with his idiotic yapping but... “Why don't you shut up already?! I just told you to leave the princess alone! Geez, why don't you take a hint?!” I outburst in anger as I am protecting the princess but she stood behind me as Mario jumped in just in time. He looked at me and we never met but I was on his side for this troublemaker. Bowser chuckled a little bit at Mario as he got his trick up his sleeve... “You are too late, Mario... This is THE END!!!” He threw his wedding hat at Mario but I step up and reflected on his hat with my two tails and hit him. Not too shabby as I got so cocky... “Ha! You like that, you stupid turtle?! You literally forgot that I have two tails that can reflect and fly!” As I got too cocky... Bowser started to clench his fists in anger and things got pretty ugly... “You... I told you to kidnap the princess but you refused to listen... And now you're getting in my way to ruin the wedding... Maybe this time I should punish you...FOR YOUR ACTIONS!!! KAMEK!!” As he yelled Kamek out, the clouds started to get dark... He appears from his magic and riding his broom. I was afraid this would happen but I'm not that afraid... “How may I help you, Lord Bowser?” Kamek is always serving Bowser as he pleases but unfortunately... Kamek sees me siding with Mario and Peach as I was lost but standing my guard. “Hey? Why are you on that plumber's side?! Are...you betraying us...?” Kamek felt a little hurt that he asked but... I started to tell the truth. “What? Kamek, no! I'm trying to stop this idiot tu–” Bowser started to grab me with his hand but I can't escape... All I did was struggle and break free but...nothing.... Mario was trying to help but Kamek gets in the way. “Maybe this would teach your lesson, you small weak brat...” Bowser started to squeeze and crush me like a hard ball as I screamed in absolute pain... Mario and Peach were terrified to hear me in pain. If Mario would've done something, none of this would've happened... “My Lord! You should stop squeezing him!” Kamek is trying to help but Bowser starts to look at him with the side eye. “Stop? Why should I? Wait... I have an idea... Get rid of his voice. Right. NOW!” Bowser has really done it now... Mario, Peach, and Kamek gasped in fear but Kamek shook his head. “B-But King Bowser! I shouldn't! That's the forbidden spell that nobody should ever use!” Kamek is really shaking and afraid about this but the forbidden spell like that? He never did that to anyone before until now. “Are you denying me? I SAID NOW!!!” Bowser yelled as he is still grabbing me as he is done squeezing and crushing me like a rock. Kamek is afraid this would happen as he slowly floated to me and prepared the forbidden spell... Staying silent forever... “Any last words before you're silenced? You small brat?” Bowser said to me as he smirked evilly and looked at me. A small trail of blood slowly went down to my mouth...and looked at him with one eye closed and half eye opened. “A...few... Leave...Peach...alone and...go...find a...real...love... interested in...your...miserable life...you...good for...nothing...loser...” I smirked a little bit as I chuckled.... Bowser's evil smirk slowly fated and went extremely angry. He looked at Kamek as he nodded meaning ‘do it’... Kamek whispered to me as he slowly raised his wand at my throat. “I'm sorry...” As Kamek completes the silence spell on me, I can't even talk... Bowser started to chuckle and laugh as he threw me in the air and punched me clean right at the face and sent me super far away... “Oh no!” Mario said as he was shocked and Peach was covering her mouth as she got scared and shocked at the same time. Now is this for a battle for Mario and Bowser alone.

As I literally landed at the snow grounds, I bounced off, tumbled, and my right arm landed on a sharp bush branch and impaled. I was in a coma for five months as I was not breathing... Then...I...was..floating...somewhere... In this...black void... I thought I was dead...

My eyes are half open and I have no...pupils on my eyes... “So you're the one who is going to change history or fate... You tried to be the hero and be involved? How foolish are you...” A mysterious voice is speaking to me as I can't speak because of that spell Kamek and Bowser put upon me... “Eheheheheh... I'm starting to like you, you pathetic runt... I would like to see how long you last until you suffer...” The voice fated and the void is no longer there...but...I slowly woke up in this cold forest and slowly looked at my right impaled arm and I slowly pulled the sharp bush branch out of it but blood dripped down a lot... I slowly started to get up and started to walk further down the path if I could find shelter...and don't get lost... It's been four hours to find a god damn shelter but I see a small shack... finally... something useful... I took a step inside of the shack and found a few items... A warm cloak, bandages, and...a crystal? Was someone here and left these behind? I slowly took the bandages and looked at the mirror that was almost broken... My right cheek on my face was scratched as the blood slowly went down but stopped because of the cold. I slowly wrapped the bandages around my right arm to heal and stop the bleeding and my right cheek to heal as well. Then I put on the cloak to warm me up and slowly held the crystal but I slowly looked at the mirror and saw a Bowser reflection right in front of me. I can hear his...stupid irritating laugh...it pisses me off... I started to breathe in and out of anger but I clenched my left fist and punched the mirror and broke the glass as the sound echoed from outside... I started to walk out of the shack and started to look for shelter on the path I'm going to, if I don't get lost...

(To be continued...)

(@skratchytheclown is the person who made me think of this au idea so all thanks to him!)

[second-axis-point]

Pairing: Injured!Joel x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Confessions, fluff, first kiss

I sort of changed the way Joel got injured just because. It mostly just tires him out. 🤷‍♂️ I hope you like it and thanks for the request!!

Earshot

No matter how many times Joel told you he was okay, you didn’t believe him. You walked directly behind him with your arm up to support him. He kept swatting your hand away but you kept putting it on his shoulder. Joel stopped and swayed for a second, he started breathing heavily. You were at his back the second he lost his footing. 

He fell back against you. You caught him with a grunt and told Ellie to go scouting ahead for a place to house the injured man laid across your lap. You gave her your rifle and told her to be extremely careful. You were confident that she would be okay but reminded her about gun safety just to be sure.

“Come on Joel, stay with me buddy.”

Joel's eyes fluttered but he didn’t respond. You gently patted his face and pulled him a bit closer, making sure his upper torso didn’t touch the snow. You rocked back and forth and tried to keep him awake. You heard a horse trotting back in your direction. You were pretty sure that it was Ellie but you turned and shielded Joel with your pistol up anyway. As you suspected, Ellie came into view with her hands up.

“I found an empty place a ways up the path. It’s not a long ride and there doesn't seem to be any infected nearby.”

You nodded.

“I’ll help Joel up on the horse and be right behind you with our packs.”

Ellie looks panicked. You tried to keep your hopes up and the spirits light but you were on the verge of panicking yourself. But you comforted Ellie and tried your best to sound certain. Once you have Joel partly awake and on the horse, you haul your and Joel’s packs up and start after the tracks that Ellie made in the snow. The cold wind was biting at your cheeks and nose. You slowly but surely made your way up the path and to the abandoned building.

You walked up to the place to see Ellie struggling to get Joel off the horse. You jog up to help get him down, handing off your packs to Ellie before grabbing Joel. You were going to throw him over your shoulder but you thought that would hurt his side too badly so you opted for the classic bridal carry. Once you had Joel comfortable in your arms, you started to follow Ellie inside.

“And you're absolutely sure there’s nothing bad in here Ellie?”

Ellie’s face lights up when she turns around.

“Only you.”

You heard Joel stifle a chuckle and then groan in pain.

“Yeah, yeah alright shithead. We need to find a place for your old man to rest.”

Ellie leads you to what you assumed used to be a bedroom. There was a mattress on the floor that looked clean enough. You told Ellie to grab your blanket from your pack and lay it down for him. You looked down to the man in your arms to see that the bleeding had stopped. When you glanced up to his face you saw that he was looking right at you, a soft expression on his face. Your face flushed and you quickly looked away again. You carefully put Joel down on the mattress and covered him with your jacket.

“Hey no it’s freezing, take your damn jacket back.”

You stand straight and cross your arms.

“You need it more than I do.”

He tried to sit up but you kneeled down and gently laid him back down.

“Slow down cowboy, you need your rest. We’re not leaving until you get a few hours of sleep.”

Joel huffs but obliges. He lays his head back down and closes his eyes. You want to stay with him but you have a few things to do. You make sure Ellie’s alright and then do a quick patrol around the small property. You came back to find Ellie sleeping against Joel's door. You lean down and pick her up, trying your very best not to wake her. You were glad you already had her set up the sleeping area so you could just lay her down. You saw some trash on the floor, Ellie had already eaten. 

You realised how hungry you were when your stomach rumbled loudly. You shuffle over to where Ellie had thrown your stuff and grabbed a protein bar. When you finished you thought that you should sit to rest for a while too. You sat down next to Joel. His hand wasn’t covered by the blanket so you put yours over it and sighed. You studied his sleeping face. He looked at peace and was almost smiling.

“I really wish you would stop getting yourself hurt so badly. You're giving me grey hair.”

You huffed sadly.

“You know I worry about you Joel. Ellie worries about you. You keep tiptoeing closer and closer to the edge and I’m afraid that one of these days you're going to throw yourself over and I'm not going to be able to haul your ass back up.”

You move your hand up to brush through his hair.

“You really mean a lot to me and the kid. I know you can’t hear me right now but it doesn't really matter. I-”

Ellie shuffled from across the room.

“I love you Joel.”

You lean down and kiss his forehead. You move to pull your hand from his hair but Joel grabs your wrist. You jump and go to start apologising.

“Oh shit I'm sorry Joel. I thought you were-”

You were cut off by him loosening his grip on your arm and instead grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. He pulls you in closer and places a fervent kiss on your lips. It takes you a moment to realise what he was doing. You kiss him back with the same vigour. When you pull back you see a pretty shade of pink dust across his cheeks.

“I love you too.”

He replies so quietly that you had to strain to hear what he was saying even though you were practically leaning over him. You smile down at him as he shuffles over, making room for you. You lay down next to him and he puts his head on your chest. He huffs as you put an arm around him and pull him closer, sharing the warmth of your jacket.

[dixidin]

Genshin Impact hcs for every nation pt.1

Mondstadt edition!

Info: OOC? Mentions of other characters, writing sucks, sorry if I get some lore wrong with some characters! Fyi, none of this is cannon besides the occasional lore mentions (also I am trying to clean out all of these hcs before fountaine comes out and I am SPRINTING)

Albedo: Since he's not a human, he didn't know how to react when he broke one of his bones. Thankfully, Sucrose was there to help him and took him back to Mondstadt to get his broken bone bandaged up. Jean demanded (intimidated) Albedo to rest until he was healed, safe to say he was not happy.

Amber: When she was a kid, she loved apples and even had a tree for apples. When she was hungry, she would climb up the tree and try to get as many as she could. Most of the time, she fell and got some sort of scar of her knee or elbow, but as she grew up, she got better and more agile.

Barbara: She visited Liyue once, and since she's an idol, she got a lot of praise there. The bad part was that some of the guys there were very creepy to her, but she formed a friendship with Yunjin and Xinyan, and they scared them away. Even Xiao since it's his job to protect people in Liyue! They formed an unlikely friendship, and they still write letters to each other (Xiao always asks if she's been doing okay).

Bennett: Bennett has a bunch of pressed four leaf clovers for bookmarks. He'll even go out of his way to search for new four leaf clovers just for luck, he doesn't really care if he gets hurt.

Diluc: Diluc actually has a very good singing voice and knows how to dance very well! But he doesn't sing or dance much since he's so busy, but he finds himself humming to a song that's playing on his record player.

Diona: She has claws but clips them often, but one prominent feature of hers is her nose having a line connected to her mouth, showing some more cat features of hers.

Eula: Whenever her terrible parents weren't looking, she would snatch some candy/sweets and hide them. She once got caught, but luckily, it was by her maid! And her being the wonderful maid she was (also knowing how rude her parents were) let Eula go on multiple occasions.

Fischl: She had a huge interest in string instruments and worked hard to practice with any of them she could find. To this day, she knows how to play a bunch (ex: bass, fiddle, viola, harp, ukulele, etc.)

Jean: She has a bunch of rare allergies, so she's very grateful not to be allergic to pollen, which is why she loves flowers so much.

Kaeya: When Kaeya was growing up in the Ragnvindr family, he learned some English through Diluc. In return, he taught Diluc how to speak some Khaenri'ah.

Klee: She has gotten in trouble so many times to the point where Jean has made a cardboard 'jail cell' for her.

Lisa: She cannot keep a plant alive for the life of her, due to her sleeping so much. On multiple occasions, she has woken up to a dead flower and has had to profusely apologize to Jean for letting her perfect, growing flowers die on her.

Mika: He is an absolute nerd when it comes to literature, so when Razor asks him to teach him some 'fancy words'. Mika was more than happy to help (some times he has to apologize when Razor gets confused when Mika starts spitting our larger words that Razor is still, very new too)

Mona: Unlike Lisa, Mona is a big plant mom, and if any of them were to die on her, then she would cry her heart out and make a funeral for it. She especially loves her Bonsai tree.

Noelle: Despite Noelle being very busy with becoming a knight and other work related info, she actually really likes learning about flower languages and all different kinds. Her favorites are roses, which is why she has so much of the on her outfit

Razor: Since Razor has been living with wolves for most of his life, he's developed a strong sense of smell. You give em a candle, he'll smell it and guess the correct answer in an instant without even looking what's scents are in the candle

Rosaria: Rosaria is secretly really good at sewing and can patch up anything! She's also tried crocheting but it didn't go well

Sucrose: Since Sucrose is an animal, she makes sure that her ears are in tip-top shape so they don't get infected or torn

Venti: Since Venti is an archon hiding as a bard, he took inspiration with a newspaper boy cap and Focalor's French like nation where they have something called a beret. Mixing them together and eventually making his hat! It was only till Zhongli explained that he could've just used a regular bard's hat and didn't need to go the extra mile

If you repost this on another website, please give credit. Any like or repost is greatly appreciated -dixidin

Tags:

[rxin3akamallory]

The self inserts: “I just feel a little dizzy.. But it’s okay, I probably just haven’t eaten yet. I’ll have something later.”

How the self inserts’ s/o would react to them not eating yet (2/4)

(Excluding Maggie, Mackenzie, Marcella, Marnie, Maeve, Marjorie, Marcie, and Marley because they don’t have partners)

[I wrote these to sorta comfort myself because this was almost exactly what happened yesterday. I didn’t bring food prior to going to work and didn’t go on my break so I had to sit through a 6+ hour shift with no food until 6pm. By the time I did eat I was not satisfied I still felt hungry after. I’m okay now, dw <3]

1 | 3 | 4

Felix (to Madeline)

Felix shakes his head.

Felix: “No, this can’t be. We need to get some food into you, pronto!”

Madeline: “Fix-It, it’s not that-“

He takes her hand.

Felix: “No protesting against this one, lady love.”

Madeline blushes and lightly chuckles as she follows him.

Kristoff (to Mara)

Kristoff glances from one side to another.

Kristoff: “Okay, Sven would kill me for doing this, but if it’s for you I think he’d make an exception.”

Mara: “What’re you talking about?”

He reaches into a small bag stashed in his sleigh and hands Mara one of Sven’s uneaten carrots.

Kristoff: “Here”

Mara: “I’m not your reindeer, you know that right?”

Kristoff: “I know it’s not much, but you can stomach it until we find you something better.”

Mara sighs as she tries to hide her blush.

Mara: “Alright, only because I can’t let food like this go to waste.”

She takes a bite before glancing back up at Kristoff.

Mara: “You’re not gonna make me share this are you?”

Kristoff: “What? No, of course not! Unless you want to.”

Mara: “Not a chance, ice cutter.”

Barley (to Maria)

Barely re-routes Guinevere.

Maria: “Whoa!”

Maria manages to stabilize herself in the passenger seat.

Maria: “What’s going on?”

Barley parks Guinevere.

Barley: “Wait right here.”

Maria: “Wha-?”

Before Maria could fully argue, Barley has already left the van. After a couple moments, he comes back with a bag of take out.

Maria: “Bar..” *gasp* “I have to pay you back!”

Barley: “Nope, none of that. You already know it’s my absolute pleasure to get to take care of you.”

Maria: *blushes* “… Thank you, Barley..”

Barley: *in his quest voice* “Anything for my fair princess!”

Tadashi (to Makoto)

Tadashi: “Makoto, that’s only gonna do you more harm than good. You’re gonna get sick if you don’t eat something.”

Makoto: “I know.. I just.. I really need to get this final done by the end of the evening so I can’t go out right now.”

Tadashi: “… Right.”

Tadashi leaves Makoto’s apartment bedroom and enters her kitchen. Makoto pokes her head out the bedroom door frame.

Makoto: “Now what’re you doing?”

Baymax: “He is preparing food.”

The sudden sound of Baymax’s voice made Makoto flinch.

Makoto: *sigh* “‘dashi doesn’t have to do all this for me. He’s got assignments to get done too.”

Baymax: “If I may ask, are you concerned about Tadashi losing time he could be spending on college assignments instead of your health?”

Makoto: “Sometimes I forget how well Tadashi programmed you. I just.. I really wish I wasn’t burdening him with this.”

Baymax: “Makoto, you are Tadashi’s girlfriend.”

Makoto: “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

Baymax: “When you’re in a relationship with someone, your priorities start to shift to where you’re not only looking out for yourself, but your partner one as well. Tadashi loves you. He wants nothing more than for you to be healthy and cared for. He couldn’t properly focus on himself until he knows you’re alright. Because that’s what partners are and what they do.”

Makoto turns back toward Tadashi. He was giving her a warm smile. Makoto returned the smile, mouthing “thank you” before Tadashi went back to cooking.

Luigi (to Madeira)

Luigi: “Wait, you haven’t eaten today!?”

Madeira: “N-No, I-“

Luigi practically leaped over the counter of Madeira’s bakery and booked it to the kitchen. He grabbed one of the sample doughnuts and handed it to her, breathing heavily.

Madeira: “Luigi, oh my goodness! Are you alright?”

Luigi: “I’ll be” *pant* “much better” *pant* “if you eat this.”

Madeira: “Lu, that’s a sample. I can’t just-“

Luigi: “Please?”

He makes a lil puppy face. Madeira couldn’t resist it so she hesitantly grabbed the doughnut and took a bite.

Madeira: *softly smiles* “Thank you. You really know how to look out for others.”

[jayalaw]

Vlad Masters in Brighton (Ghost and Molly McGee and Danny Phantom Season 2 Spoilers)

@hcsp1, thank you for helping me brainstorm!

For chronology, assume that season three of Danny Phantom hasn't happened, but the Halloween episode of Ghost and Molly McGee, "Frightmare on Main Street" has.

Brighton seems to have become less safe for ghosts. The Chens stream nonstop, showing off their canister. Having Ollie on Molly and Scratch's side makes a difference, though. When he stops seeing Scratch as evil, he takes notes when asking questions. 

Molly starts another en-happifying campaign. She starts building treehouses and temporary shelters in the park. Sure, Brighton doesn't exactly have a homeless population, but a person can never be too careful. It also gives her an excuse to find the cameras on a map that Ollie has marked, so that she can mark safe paths for the ghosts. June doesn't have to know about the counter-campaign, and none of the ghosts will be destroyed. 

When she sees the girl in the hat and sweatshirt sneaking around the encampments.

“Hey!” Molly holds out a picnic basket. “Are you hungry?”

The girl turns to leave, but her stomach rumbles. Molly offers the food that she and her dad have made, and Scratch even tossed in some of Grandma Nin's recipes because he had started cooking as well, so that he could feed himself more. 

Her name is Dani, and she is camping. Molly expresses worry about being out here as the weather is getting colder. When snow falls in Brighton, it can get freezing. Even though Dani looks dressed for the winter, her parents should pick her up before winter hits. Maybe she can get back before Thanksgiving. 

“I’m going to be fine,” Dani says. “Don’t worry.”

Molly doesn't start worrying until seeing signs that Dani hasn't left the treehouses. On the news, the weather warns of snowfall and a snow day soon. Anyone who stays out in that temperature will freeze to death.  

“Hey!” Molly greets Dani with hot chocolate in a thermos. “I have an idea!”

She invites Dani for a spontaneous slumber party at her house. Absolutely nothing suspicious about that and Dani can't refuse an invitation. Dani says that Daddy will be worried, but Molly lures her with a promise of space movies. 

“The Mars Rover movie just came out! And I know you were looking forward to it!” 

“You know me too well.” Dani lets her guard down and smiles. “Fine, I’ll be there.” 

Dani for the first time ever sees a family that loves each other. Peter McGee offers her more dumplings. He asks Molly in a whisper if the attic is safe. Molly assures him yes. Because after all, Scratch can choose who sees him. He's going to sneak snacks from the sleepover and still.

They didn't expect Dani to drop the spare set of pajamas that Molly had lent her. She stares at Scratch, who had been helping himself to some fresh popcorn. Scratch also points at her. He says that he can sense she's a ghost. Dani panics and transforms. Silver hair and black pants. She even floats! Scratch prepares to go full Chairman.

“Oh, no! You’re not haunting this attack!” He dons the cloak. “Eh, give me a minute, the sleeves are tight-”

Molly gets between them, saying how cool it is that Dani has powers. She says it's perfectly fine if Dani is a ghost, because her best friend is one! And ghost aren't evil, the snacks are going to get cold, and it's movie night. The space movie isn't going to watch itself. It's supposed to recreate the last moments of the Mars Rover, before it inexplicably comes back to life and returns to Earth. 

Dani settles for a truce because of the movies. Scratch settles because of the snacks. And once Dani is snuggled in the sleeping bag -- borrowed, obviously-- Molly tells her she can stay as long as she needs. Her secret is safe within the attic. Just in time, as they watch the snow fall. Means that no one in Brighton will be sleeping tonight. 

After breakfast, Molly has dozens of questions. Did Dani step through a portal? Is she a wraith? Can she do stage magic? If so, can she not because Molly hates it with every depth of her soul? 

Dani isn't ready to answer everything. No, she isn't a wrath; she is half-ghost. Dani doesn't like stage magic either. She does request no selfies, because someone is chasing her. He can spy through cameras, even those on phones. Molly respects that. Dani does say that there is a person she can call, her third cousin once-removed, but he may not want to talk to her. She's not ready. 

They have a plan. Hide Dani in the attic for a few days. Molly keeps it clean, so Sharon doesn't bother her. Then before Thanksgiving, motivate Dani to call her cousin. She doesn't want to talk about her dad, although occasionally she turns her head away when Peter kisses Molly on the forehead. Peter also offers her hugs and says it is nice to see another new face in Brighton.  

Just as well, because the Chens are on the prowl. They share with their other ghost hunters that their canister works. June messages the Fentons, asking about their thermos. Something is not right. It shouldn't have caught the evil ghosts on Halloween. June also checks the cameras. Something is shimmering in the cameras, but then vanished. She makes note of it on the vlog, saying that the ghosts must have hunkered down for the winter. 

Next thing you know, a familiar van has pulled up next door. Dani spots it and hides in the attic. She would love to go outside and feel the winter breeze in her hair, but Danny Fenton is probably in that van. So is his family. 

The kids aren't thrilled about another spontaneous road trip, especially right before Thanksgiving. Their grandmother is going to kill Jack. It's freezing in Brighton, too cold for ghostly investigations. Danny, however, sees his ghost powers activate. But no ghosts are causing trouble. At some point, there would be screaming. Something is suspicious in this town.

He spots someone who looks familiar in the neighbor's attic, and gasps. After blinking, he confirms it is who he thinks it is. Danny asks to excuse himself. Jazz distracts the Fentons by asking the Chens about their tech and winter garden, since it's too cold for chili peppers. June's sensors go off, but Ollie asks if she can help design him snowshoes that would allow him to chase ghosts in the snow. He says that he saw some in the park. 

Meanwhile, Dani had her first good night's sleep in weeks. Yet when she spots a translucent head poking through the wood, Dani's about to run. But as she transforms, she starts to ooze. Right, because Vlad never figured out that kink. 

Danny powers down. He tells her she doesn't have to fear him. They're family, Vlad or no Vlad. And he has been worried sick about her since she flew away from Amity Park. 

Dani stops oozing. She regains control. Then she sits on Molly's bed. Danny joins her. And they talk. 

Molly isn't there, shoveling snow for people at the Senior Center. Scratch, however, runs a bubble bath so he won't hear a dozen apologies from a girl who says that she thought the man who created her was a good person. He lied to her and used her. Danny tells her there's nothing to forgive. Vlad Masters lies to everyone. He uses people.  

Danny wants his cousin to come live with the Fentons. If he can keep his ghost side a secret, so can she. And he can use the lab to help with her disintegration, to stop it from getting worse. He and Jazz can make up a story at Thanksgiving about a forgotten cousin. Vlad is far away from Wisconsin, far from here. She's safe now. 

Neither of them knows that Vlad Masters is one of the Chens' biggest sponsors online. He has taken advantage of the Internet and has a network of ghost hunters, connected in the country. When June's feed shows the image, he can't resist the formulation of a plan. 

It seems that the Fentons will pass through town, and Dani will go with them. Molly is relieved and saddened since she always wanted a little sister, and Scratch admits that he'll miss the little kid. Even Darryl complains that he won't have someone who is good at hustling as his other partner-in-crime. 

Then a limo pulls up in Brighton. The most expensive mansion there goes up for rent. 

“I would know that limo anywhere!” Jack Fenton jumps into the van. “Don’t wait up, for me honey!” 

Jack only dings the limo a little when it brakes before he can respond. He goes to shake his best friend's hand and what are the odds they're in the same Midwestern town? 

Vlad Masters, eye twitching from the dent, is interested in relocating. He has seen that the town is filled with ghosts. And the mayor is an incumbent. 

“Maybe it's time for new blood, especially since November is an election month.” He looks at the town. “And a person like me could make some changes.” 

Molly and Danny both freak out as Jack Fenton returns and announces loudly outside the McGee house that the Fentons will stay for as long as Vlad needs to run his campaign. Maddy tries to remind Jack about Grandma and Thanksgiving, while Jazz rolls her eyes. To Molly, it's threatening a mayor who has always tried his best, and none of the treehouses she built are meant to help a family survive the winter. 

But to Danny? He knows that any Vlad plan is not a good plan. They can get Dani out of the town and back to Amity Park, but that doesn't solve the problem of how to foil whatever scheme that Vlad has. The Guys in White won't answer any more calls from the Fentons. 

Dani is adamant about one thing: they have to update Molly and Scratch. Danny asks who they are, just as Molly returns from shoveling driveways. Scratch freaks out about more ghosts in his space and asks when did the attic become a reception area. This time, Dani calms things down, saying that she can explain. Everyone gets up to date, and Molly's expression changes when she learns who Dani's father is, and how he created Dani.

"Surely... he's not that bad?" she ventures. 

"He tortured a teenager- me!" Danny rolled up his sleeve. "Yes, he is that bad." 

"I can't believe I’m agreeing with a broody teenager, but that guy sounds really evil!" Scratch adds. "Let me handle him; I can curse him in his sleep to leave Brighton and never return." 

"Or I can talk to him," Molly says. "Maybe I can explain that Brighton is very happy with our mayor and he doesn't have to bother with the ghosts around here."

"My plan is better," Scratch grouses. The fact is that Vlad hurt a girl younger than Molly, and he remembers what happened with the Chairman. He doesn't want to take any chances, especially when Frightmares are nearby. 

They try going with Molly's plan, with Dani staying in the attic but Danny coming along as backup. When Jazz spots them, she knows when glancing at Danny, and tosses the Ghost Catcher to her little brother. 

“So what is that?” Molly asks casually.

“Oh, this split me in two a few times,” Danny replies. “Literally! My ghost half and human half. But I guess Jazz doesn’t want me to trap Vlad in a thermos.” 

Molly’s eyes widen. She touches the net part of the Ghost Catcher.

“Eh, I’m not buying it.” Scratch pokes the rod. “Looks like a fancy butterfly net to me.”  

They soon make it to the mansion, bundled up and ready to face Vlad. Danny has the Ghost Catcher ready, while Molly prepares to put on the charm. 

Neither of them can stop Scratch from going inside the rental mansion, cloak and all.

The cloak flies in the air. Scratch flees from Vlad Plasmius, screaming for the whole while. People point at them. 

"Scratch!" Molly looks around. "What do we do?"

"You stay here!" Danny says. "I'm going ghost!" 

As he transforms, Molly grabs the Ghost Catcher. It has an on and off-switch. She presses it on, and sets it up on the ground. Then she takes a leap. 

The next thing you know, Andrea Davenport is broadcasting a screeching Vlad Plasmius as a yellow wraith chases him down, trying to boop him on the nose. The wraith leaves flowers in her wake while yelling at him to stay away from her best friend. Everyone picks up a dandelion or a daisy. 

"Okay, that girl is officially the scariest non-ghost I have met, and I have a gym teacher that made us climb up a rope twenty times," Danny says, watching the trail of destructions and native flowers. 

"You have no idea," Scratch agrees. "Donut?" 

Danny takes a chocolate frosted one. It's nice having someone on the team fighting by his side. 

Molly finally boops Vlad on the nose, sending him crashing to Earth in a mound of flowers and snow well beyond the borders of Brighton. She warns him to never come back to the town or hurt Scratch, or he will have to deal with her. Then she leaves him, and advises him that this is a common highway for ride-shares, so he'll be fine. 

Vlad doesn't know who the yellow ghost is, only that she managed to depower him in mid-air, with one touch. But he does like a challenge. After he regains his dignity and manages to find his phone, he sheepishly calls his limo driver to ask for a ride. After all, a future mayor of Brighton can't freeze under a bed of flowers. It's not dignifying for a man like him.

[echoesofmyfootsteps]

Dhr Drabble: It’s a boy

Gonna start posting some of my drabbles here, since more people are migrating. Might as well spruce the old blog up a little, yeah?

Inspired DramionePrompts on Twitter (links at end)

It’s a boy// Crookshanks POV

***

You’ve let a new person in on a rainy night, and they look like I do when I’m wet. Sullen and unhappy and deflated.

But you do that thing—directing your wand to the interloper and fluffing their pale hair into something resembling a tassled pillow I would tear to shreds.

And then he’s no longer deflated.

He. It’s a boy.

My back arches; he narrows his eyes at me as you take his cloak away.

His kind come and go. I don’t trust them. (Don’t trust anyone but you, really.)

“Stop being so surly,” you scold me half heartedly, nuzzling me as you set me down further away. But I turn to eye him. Standing sentinel in the doorway to your bedroom.

They’ve left you sad. You’ve told me all about the way they’ve used you—for your mind, your power, your fame—and yet you’ve tried to find excuses for them.

But I don’t need to. I can hate them, and my opinion always wins.

Because in the end, I’m the only one you really trust, too.

“I don’t think he likes me,” the boy watches me.

“Nonsense!” you laugh.

At least you’re not stupid, I say in his direction, lips pulled back, teeth showing.

You widen your eyes at me.

With crossed arms the boy stares a moment longer and turns back to you. Ignoring me.

But I keep watching:

Him wandering stiffly through the flat.

The muscles in his temple ticking.

The way he keeps his hands conspicuously pocketed; how his feet give you plenty of space (the shine of his shoes makes me want to throw up on them), but always point toward you.

I watch him watch you. And I see his sullenness melt with the wine and every smile you give.

I can say one thing for him: he’s careful.

And his eyes always return to yours.

As you both sit on the sofa, a feather dislodges, drifting near me in the air. I paw at it, pounce, roll, lose interest.

When I turn back, your legs are nearly entangled—the perfect landing spot.

This space is mine, I say to him once I’ve jumped between you.

He has the decency to back up. “I see.”

“Crooks, you absolute menace.” You try to shove me off the couch.

How dare, Mother. How dare. I bat at you with my paw. I choose violence.

“It’s fine,” says the boy. “I should be going.”

But I watch from the ground as he swallows, pulls his jumper cuffs back down, clears his throat, finally leans in. He tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses you on the forehead. “May I take you out tomorrow?”

Then I see it. The happy anticipation in your eyes. None of the anxiety you’ve had with the others. “All right.”

He lingers, close to leaning in a second time, until you jump up in alarm, nearly smacking into his jaw. “Your cloak!”

As soon as you turn, he allows himself a private smile.

What are you laughing about? I ask.

He evaluates me. “I’m not making fun, I swear.“ Head turned to where you disappeared, he says, “I see why you’re protective.”

I sit closer to him. She’s special. And she’s mine.

“We are of the same mind.” He lifts an eyebrow. “I hope we can be friends.”

He keeps his distance (which I appreciate more than I let on) and nods at my ambivalence.

I’m reserving judgment, I mew, just before he exits. You’re welcome!

You close the door with a sigh, and then spot me.

I’m hungry.

“Oh, Crooks.” Your body sags. “How could you.”

You scoop me up, ignoring my plea, fingernails in my neck fur, kisses near my ears. “It was going so well. Please give him a chance.” More kisses. “Did you have any thoughts?” You whisper the words into my scruff.

I purr, waiting for you to say what you want.

“He makes me hope.” I continue purring as you absently scratch my ears.

I’ll give him a chance. But if I suspect anything, I’m clawing his eyes out in his sleep.

“Fair,” you say. “Now. Some food.”

I lead the way, tail high.

We two trust each other. Implicitly, completely, exclusively.

Tonight, though, I wonder for the first time if perhaps there will be room for a third.

//end

Original drabble:

[alan-duarte]

TIMING: Sometime in 2017 LOCATION: The Pines PARTIES: Monty @howdy-cowpoke & Alan @alan-duarte SUMMARY:  Alan tries not to be a bad dog, Monty tries to control his hunger. They both get a lot more from their excursion.  CONTENT WARNINGS: none 

Trembling fingers reached for the bronze doorknob, grasping it in a white-knuckled grip and turning. A shoulder was braced against the door to push it open, the warmth of the summer night doing little to stop the shivering. The sound of crickets met his ears, but he was too wrapped up in his own panicked thoughts to appreciate their songs. On nights like this, he normally liked to lay out with his favorite horse in the pasture and stare up at the stars, but tonight… he was hungry. He’d not properly fed since arriving in this town, getting himself a job at a local orchard, and trying to settle in. It was the occasional squirrel here or raccoon there, but not nearly enough to sate his appetite. The last few weeks had seen him growing more and more irritable until he couldn’t stand it anymore, fleeing in the dead of night to try and put as much distance between himself and his neighbors as possible. He didn’t need another accident.

But the universe had other plans. Traipsing through the woods in the darkness was just asking for trouble, and while it wasn’t exactly the kind of trouble he expected to encounter, it was trouble nonetheless.

They were frightened, of course, to suddenly find a stranger in their campsite, wearing just a robe, and… were those sandals with socks? His behavior didn’t make them feel any better—he was twitchy, seemed afraid of something, and kept acting like he was going to leave before turning around again and asking them another question. This went on for a few minutes before the boyfriend got up and demanded that he leave, to which Monty just let out a strained, exhausted laugh. “Leave? Leave. Yeah, alright. I’ll leave.” 

Only he didn’t leave. His hunger overtook him and he lunged, tearing out the man’s throat with his teeth before he could defend himself. The woman started screaming, so Monty turned on her next. Crows erupted from the branches above, fanning out into the sky, cawing raucously to announce the disturbance in the forest. Unperturbed, Monty feasted on his bounty, grabbing a rock and using it to smash open their heads to get at the delicacy that sat within. Not like they needed those brains anymore, anyway.

—

The woods were usually absolutely silent at this hour of the night, aside from the local nocturnal animals which made the screaming all the more clear to his ears.

Alan came here every now and then, to train, to finally stop losing himself to the animal every time he shifted. He was getting better at it, which was a relief. Nathalie had told him it would eventually be a lot easier, and though he didn't initially trust her, now that she was gone, Alan felt as though he owed it to her to keep trying. If it wouldn’t bring her back, it helped with grief. 

Adjusting the strap of his backpack onto his shoulder, Alan turned on his heels. What did he care if people were getting attacked tonight? It wasn’t his job to save everyone, or anyone. Not anymore. He’d done his time, fulfilled his duty. He didn’t owe anyone anything. 

Another sound, one more gruesome, one that could only have been done by someone sentient, made him pause. 

He didn’t need to go check it out. He didn’t have to be curious. He could just walk this way. 

And yet Alan turned around again if only to find out what kind of creature was sharing the woods with him tonight. Trying his best to make a quiet approach, he’d treaded carefully, watching his steps. He didn’t want to spook them, and he wanted to have a way out if that thing turned out to be something he couldn’t handle. 

Now he had seen too much shit in Iraq to care about what he was seeing then, but that was certainly a sight he could never forget. You never forgot your first sight of a man with brain smeared cheeks. “Midnight cravings?” He finally spoke out, arms crossed, leaning against a pine tree. 

—

His dark eyes were clouded over with bloodlust, not registering that someone was approaching directly in front of him. Fingers dug in past chipped bone, sliding through the slick blood as they curled and grasped at the grey matter, wrenching it free to lift it to a ravenous mouth.

It wasn’t until the stranger spoke that Monty snapped out of his haze, gore-covered hands hovering in front of his face. “... what…?” He looked up at the man blearily, then back down at his hands. A strange sort of expression crossed over his features and a soft groan slipped past his lips, shoulders jerking backward to wrench him away from the scene. Something that sounded like a ‘no’ could be heard over his scrambling as he got to his feet, eyes wide. The shivering had returned, but it was no longer from hunger. “I didn’t mean it,” he bleated, trying futilely to wipe his hands clean on the robe that dangled from his shoulders, but it was just as soaked as he was. “I-I didn’t mean—I was tryin’ to—” He stared at the stranger, horrified. He didn’t know what to say. What happened now? Would this man… turn him in? Kill him? “Please.” He took a step back, swiping the sleeve of the robe over his face. 

—

Alan held his hands up in front of his chest. The wolf showing his white paws to the frightened little goat came to mind and he didn’t attempt to conceal his laughter. He didn’t mean to spook the poor fella, just surprise him. 

His eyes followed the brain eater as he sat up, away from the carnage. This brought back memories. On his 7th full moon, Alan had woken up with a very distinct taste in his mouth, and though he couldn’t recall what happened during the night, that warm, coppery, velvety flavor wasn’t one he’d ever forget. It was one thing to be in control, to do what needed to be done, and another to lose your mind to the animal within, to completely surrender to this curse. To lose yourself. 

Scared people could be unpredictable, but he had the advantage of having caught the other by surprise, and Alan could tell from experience that he wouldn’t jump to his throat next. Looking at the stranger, he wondered what had caused him to wander through the woods in his robe, although a detail about his outfit had him shaking his head. “I’m not going to talk about your table manners,” been there, done that, “but that’s a choice,” a glance at the sandals and socks combo, then another at the man’s blood covered cheeks. Alan smiled. It seemed a bit unfair to him, that this guy still managed to look adorable while sporting one of the most unhinged smears on his face. “That’s not a trick is it? Looking cute?” Could have been a glamour. He heard of species that disguised their true colors. Not that it mattered. Alan could be awful to anyone and everyone, but he also wanted to keep supernatural beings on his side.  “Anyhow, what’s happening here?” He paused. “You can finish your meal, looks like you need that,” he pointed out, standing still, as if to reassure that man into thinking he wouldn’t stop him or move.

—

Monty’s gaze followed the stranger’s down to his feet, sock-protected toes poking out from the chanclas that they’d been slipped into before he fled home. He might have protested, insisting that it was comfortable, if not for the panic that still coiled and hissed like a pissed off rattlesnake in his chest. Instead, the zombie just let out a fearful, exasperated huff, trying to decide if it was better to run or to stay. 

The smile wasn’t helping make the decision any easier. Rather, it kept Monty in a confused state of limbo, his gaze dancing from the stranger to the carnage at his feet, then back again.

Looking cute? “A—a trick?” If he wasn’t permanently deathly cold to the touch, heat would have been rising to his face and creeping up his neck. “No tricks, mister.” What a confusing question. Also don’t call me that, he thought as his attention dropped again to the forest floor. The stranger offered for him to finish what he’d started, but looking at it now, he felt ill. His expression reflected as much, hidden again as he continued to try and scrub away the blood that was already drying on his skin. 

“I was… tryin’ to get away from people, comin’ out here. Tried to walk away from these ‘uns, didn’t know they were out here, but I—” Killed them. Again. “Lost control. I was too...” Hungry. He couldn’t say the word.

He looked again at the stranger, desperation in his eyes. “It was an accident, mister, I swear—please don’t… don’t tell no one?”

— 

“You know.” With a sigh, Alan asked again : “Are you actually a 9 feet tall creature with sharp teeth and talons instead of hands, or something like it,” considering he could shift into a large gray wolf, it was not such an absurd question to ask, was it? Still, Alan could already assess that he was just talking to a dude with no sense of fashion and a taste for brains. Now, he didn’t want to ask what the other was, he didn’t really care all that much for that, but he was curious enough to wonder if zombie was the term for it. The lack of a heartbeat sure confirmed his theory. 

“You’re dead, aren’t you?” It wasn’t hard to hear in the dead of night. No sound but theirs, and the cicadas in the distance. “No need to reply, I’m just… being curious.”

With a light groan, he looked around and took a seat on a rock nearby. “Oh no, you need to finish your meal. Some people don’t have food and you wanna waste those perfectly fresh brains? C’mon buddy,” playing with his wedding band, the wolf gave a shark like grin to the undead man. “Maybe it was an accident, but it currently looks like someone human attacked these folks, bit them and cracked their heads open.” He paused. “Which is tastier by the way? The man or the woman? I bet it’s the woman.” 

As if he had noticed himself going off track here, Alan pointed at the dead bodies. “Anyhow. Point being, we're gonna have to clean up after you.”

—

What the heck was he talking about? “I-I don’t know ‘bout any talons or sharp teeth, no,” Monty  answered meekly, wringing his hands together. “This is… how I always look. But less bloody.”

At the observation regarding his undead status, he simply nodded. There wasn’t much else to say about it—whatever conclusions this man wanted to draw, he would. Didn’t matter what Monty tried to explain away. 

Watching him carefully as he moved to sit on a smallish boulder, the zombie made a face. Was he being lectured about not finishing his food right now? He was quiet as he listened to the other speak, mouth hanging open at the question. He didn’t know how to answer that. Thankfully, the conversation was moving on rather quickly, and he was allowed to skip over it. Or at least put off answering until later. 

“Clean up.” Monty repeated, shaking his head. How on earth were they supposed to clean this up? And also, why—“Why d’you wanna help me?” 

—

“Like I said, you’re a cutie,” Alan got the impression that the other didn’t like compliments all that much, and was having a bit too much fun right now. With a fond smile, he crossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. 

“They must have tupperwares if they’re camping,” he pointed out. Clearly, his friend here wouldn’t eat with an audience. He didn’t blame him. “Or would you feel more comfortable if I had a snack too?” Not brains, but he usually carried around a banana or an apple in his backpack. “Maybe do you want me to turn my back? It would be a shame. I absolutely love watching handsome fellas eat,” alright now he was just being a dick. “But I respect that.” 

With a nod, Alan seemed to confirm the other’s question. “Clean up. Make it look like an animal attack, you know. You’ve read the local paper.” Pause. “Unless you want to be arrested for murder. You’re too cute for jail, once again.” Pursing his lips to keep his amusement from shining through, Alan looked away as he failed to do so. Oh boy. “Anyhow. Why would I wanna help you? Because you look like you could use someone’s help honestly.” And maybe this guy would be useful to him one day. It was always good to have people indebted to you. “We’re not exactly the same, but I’m not human either. Call it solidarity,” with a price.

—

“Ay, Dios mío,” the zombie groaned, mostly to himself. That awkward response to praise wouldn’t be dampened by the atrocity he’d committed here, especially not when the witness to said atrocity was so very willing to look the other way—so to speak. His hands came up to hide his face, fingers clawing up into his unruly locks of mousy brown hair as the man went on, encouraging him to eat and calling him handsome. He had to turn away, shaking his head and tilting it back to stare up at the canopy instead, arms falling back to his sides. 

He had a point, though. He, whoever he was. There’d be hell to pay for this, and Monty was not a good liar. Besides, he— “Stop,” he muttered, turning to face the stranger again, practically begging with his expression. “I’m not—I don’t—” The guy was wearing a wedding band for heaven’s sake—this was hardly the time for—

Thoughts disjointed and body aching to consume what was left of the campers, Monty lapsed into silence again. The stranger told him he wasn’t human, either. That was some small comfort, though Monty doubted it meant they were alike. If they were alike, this man had some serious self control around dead bodies that Monty had never been able to master. Besides, he wasn’t wrong. Monty did need help. He always needed fucking help.

The exposed brain matter was singing a sickly song, and he wasn’t strong enough to ignore it anymore. He relented, shuffling over to the bodies and sinking to his knees beside the woman, staring down at her caved-in face. “How… how do we make it look like an animal?” he asked softly, reaching back into her skull for more. 

—

Alan had a bit too much fun with the other's shyness, and only consented to stop as the other asked him to. He could respect that. 

While the other went back to his food, the werewolf started taking off his shoes, tidily tucking his socks in there. If he had left the army many years ago, the habits had stuck, and he hadn't had one stray sock in a decade. 

"Well, that's the thing. I can turn into an animal," perhaps the other would understand a bit more why Alan insisted that this was his true appearance. Pausing to give the other a look, he stood up and began taking off his jacket. "My clothes will be torn to shreds, however, if I don't take them off." He wouldn't shift back to his human form until the other was gone. Alan felt like he had done more than enough to fluster him tonight. "So this is me being careful," this, and Jake would murder him if he destroyed another one of his presents. Most times, it had been accidental or a matter of survival but the other didn't really care to listen to those excuses.

"I'm Alan, by the way." 

—

Large, curious eyes watched with vaulted brows as the man took off his shoes, but it didn’t seem to deter the zombie from continuing his meal. It was hard to stop, once he’d gotten started. He likely wouldn’t be able to until both skulls were empty. 

I can turn into an animal. Monty nearly choked on the bit of frontal lobe he’d just popped into his mouth, covering it with his hand for a moment to regain his composure and swallow. During that time, the man explained why he was disrobing, and Monty made a point to look away. “You—you can?” He’d been alive almost two hundred years, now. He’d seen some shit. But he’d never actually met someone who could do that, he’d never spoken to them. Mostly he just tried to think of ways to stop them from eating his bosses cattle.

Alan. Oh, right. Introductions. “Monty,” the zombie responded, still not looking up, unsure how much of his attire Alan was going to remove before… shifting. “What… what can you turn into?” It was a stupid question, he’d know soon enough, but he couldn’t stop it. In the meantime, trying to hurry this along, he began wrenching what was left of the brains from their hosts and shoving the bits and pieces into the large pockets of his robe. His eyes scanned the campsite for some kind of container, like Alan had suggested, and they fell on a small red cooler. With the smallest of smiles, the zombie reached for it and threw it open, pulling out all the contents before emptying what he’d foraged into it instead and clicking it back shut. 

It was almost like a little lunchbox, except that its contents were horrifying. 

—

“We’re called werewolves, you’ve heard of us,” he commented, though there was no joy to his tone. Those transformations, each of them felt as though his flesh was being ripped apart, his bones were twisted around, growing and shrinking too fast,  but nothing could beat feeling like his skull was being tortured into a new shape, his teeth being replaced by a new set, simultaneously.  In the course of a few seconds, his entire body changed, and there was nothing natural here. 

“Monty. Okay,” he figured the hiking shorts and teeshirt wouldn’t be missed too much, and he always carried a change in his backpack, just in case something unexpected came up. “Alright Monty, I’ll wait until you’re a bit further to do this. It won’t be a pleasant sight, and I would understand if you want to leave," although the next words were meant to be reassuring, Alan wouldn't blame Monty for finding them ominous. "I’ll find you if you do. We need to talk about all that,” an accident the other called it. He needed food, accidents would happen again. Patterns were inevitable.

 He took a moment to establish a pattern of destruction. He had to completely destroy evidence of Monty ever being here. The rock he sat on would be the one where the woman cracked her skull open. That boulder over there where the man did. He'd make a mess, destroy their tracks, and it would be as though no one was ever here but a starved beast and those two campers. "Careful where you walk. Ground is dry enough but…" This would work, the local PD recognized an animal attack when they saw one. Or rather they didn't. 

With his warnings said, his precautions taken, Alan focused his gaze onto the campsite, and though he tried to bite down his screaming, a guttural sound, half human, half beast, growled out of his distorted jaw. Brown eyes turned yellow, and just like that, the man was gone, and a fury unleashed onto the couple. As if they were puppets, the wolf was now in control of them and everything here.

—

Werewolves. Of course. What a pair, the two of them—monsters straight out of the films from the twenties and thirties, getting on like their existence was normal in the middle of the night, in the woods, blood-soaked and ready to create more carnage. 

Monty picked up his cooler and held it to his chest, arms wrapped around its front, hesitating before leaving, even though Alan had instructed him to. He  went to say something, then stopped, started again, then stopped again with a shake of his head. “Okay,” was all he said, defeated. Alan would come find him, and given the fact that he probably had an excellent nose, the zombie wouldn’t be hard to locate. There was no point in trying to get away, so he just trundled into the trees, eyes focused straight ahead.

Until he heard Alan screaming. Or was it… growling? 

Monty clutched the cooler in fear, whipping around to face the campsite. He couldn’t see anything from here except the long shadows cast by Alan’s bestial form as it ripped through their bodies and their tents, and a strange feeling came over him. 

No one had done anything like this for him before. Not... specifically covering up a murder scene, but just… kindness in general. Kindness was a stranger to him in any form. He’d never let anyone close enough to allow that. Alan didn’t seem like the type that would take no for an answer, that much was clear. Whether he wanted it or not, there was more conversation to come, and undoubtedly more digging into his past. He sighed, popping the cooler open again as he sat down and leaned his back against a tree, helping himself to more of the meal within. 

It was gonna be a long night.

—

He had no idea how long these two would have stayed camping, but come morning, there was a chance someone would start looking for them or reaching out to them and Alan couldn't exactly rely on the woods' unpredictability to finish the job even if he was probably overestimating the local police's intelligence or willingness to be thorough right now. 

And so he took a bite at their necks, if only to cover the other's job, flung their severed skull where he had planned to, shaking them around like paper dolls. Alan tried to forget that these people were the daughter and son of someone. He had training back in the days and though it seemed sometimes heartless duty often had no room for hurt feelings. Besides, wouldn't it be best if they thought their kids were attacked by a beast rather than some sort of cannibal ? 

The taste of warm blood was not one he appreciated in his human mouth, but all that seemed to disappear when he was in this form. He should have been repulsed but his instincts even dictated him to make a meal out of them. After all, they were dead already. 

A few more minutes passed, and there wasn't a lot left to identify when Alan returned to Monty's side with only the blood beneath his nails as evidence of anything having gone on. He gave the undead man a look, readjusting his jacket on his shoulders and taking a look at the path behind them. "You alright?"

—

“Peachy,” Monty responded somewhat despondently, kicking the cooler into the underbrush, having finished off the remaining contents while Alan took care of the crime scene. He angled his head up slightly to catch the other man’s eye, feeling much more full, but far more upset. “I meant what I said, you know,” he muttered, dropping his chin again and folding his arms across his chest. “It was an accident. I tried real hard to leave, I didn’t see ‘em till I was already in their camp, I was tryin’ to just get away, but…” He let out a defeated groan, hands coming to his face again, heels digging into his eyes while his fingers balled into fists with tufts of his hair sticking out from between them. “Dang it… I keep messin’ this up.” Nearly two hundred years, and he’d still not found a way to keep this from happening. He could eat all the animal brains he wanted, but eventually, they wouldn’t be enough. They were never enough, and instead of trying to find a way to supplement his diet as ethically as possible, he’d just ignore it until something like this happened. And it still broke his heart every time.

“Maybe you oughtta just put me outta my misery. Outta everyone else’s misery. I ain’t good for nothin’.” 

—

“I can relate to that,” he remembered his first full moon. Alan didn’t know what was happening to him, he didn’t know then, that it wasn’t a regular wolf that had bitten him a few weeks ago. The pain had been excruciating. He barely managed to crawl out of his car, his limbs twisting horribly before his eyes. Before he could register at all what was happening to him, the transformation had been complete. The feral violence was forgotten the next morning. When it happened again the two following nights, Alan began to wonder if this was going to be his life now. He knew every full moon was like that. There was nothing he could do to control himself then. 

“If you could do without all that, it seems obvious to me that you would,” hands in his pockets, Alan led the way. Looking over his shoulder, he took a moment to study the other’s silent language. “What is done is done,” he pointed out. No point reliving it over and over again. Maybe the guilt would make Monty feel better, but Alan thought that to be too ironic to be true and he never had been one for self pity, nor did he have too much patience for it.

“Look man, I don’t know you, and I can’t tell you what to do with yourself, but today doesn’t define tomorrow,” unless there was no tomorrow. “I’m not gonna do that. We have to stick together, our kind,” didn’t matter if they were very different. They faced the same threat.

—

Maybe he was right. Maybe the fact that he wanted to stop was enough to redeem him, even if it didn’t feel like it at the moment. But there had to be more he could do, he just didn’t know where to start. Today doesn’t define tomorrow. He could have cried at the sentiment, more so because it was being said to him rather than at him—someone had taken a genuine interest, it seemed, and was offering support that Monty had never had. He kept quiet a few moments longer, tight-lipped and upset, but knew he had to say something. 

“I… okay,” he breathed, sounding somewhat relieved. “Stick together. Got it.”

Falling in stride with Alan, Monty clutched the edges of his robe to pull it more tightly around his body, trying not to pay attention to how wet the material still felt from all the viscera that had splashed onto it. What had once been a white robe and socks were now stained blackish-red, and the sandals would certainly have to be tossed out. Ugh. How was he even going to get back into his place looking like this? 

“... I need a freakin’ shower,” he complained quietly, not really speaking to Alan as much as he was to himself. “Gross.”

—

“I’m glad. Now don’t you worry, we’ll figure something out,” because Monty needed to eat, just like Alan would always have to change on a full moon. That’s how things were meant to be. It wasn’t weird. It was nature. Just nature. 

Looking over his shoulder as the other complained, Alan frowned. Funny how that hadn’t shocked him back there. Would be a shame to cover their tracks for people to catch sight of him covered in blood. “Right. Huh. I don’t have a full change,” he glanced at the man’s shoes and socks and sighed. What a shame, he’d have to get rid of those. “But we can put you in a clean tee shirt and pair of shorts.” Alan would take the dirty clothes, burn them when he’d get home and he’d happily get rid of those shoes too. 

Taking the backpack off his shoulder, Alan let it fall to the floor. He wasn’t usually too talkative, and decided to just leave him be while he did what he had to do. “I wouldn’t call it gross,” he commented, from a few steps afar. Once again, he chose to lean against a tree, and looked at their surroundings. The forest was really quiet then, and it was probably a good thing. No hunter, no creature would bother them. “At least you know what you eat. I sometimes wake up with a taste in my mouth I can’t even identify.” He tried most often not to think about it. 

—

The shirt was one size too large for Monty—while Alan wasn’t all that much taller than him, he certainly had broader shoulders. Still, it was clean, and that’s all the zombie could ask for. Shedding the ruined robe, Monty was relieved to see that the midnight snack hadn’t also soiled his unmentionables like it had everything else, and began to pull his new friend’s clothing onto his lithe frame. When the comment about what he ate came floating across the space between them, Monty let out a barking laugh that seemed to surprise even him. 

“Ay, wey!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose in mock disgust, “That’s nasty. For real?” It made sense, he supposed—if them not remembering their shifts was normal. He glanced back in the direction of the campsite, now ravaged by the beast himself, and swallowed. “Is that… do you always forget? That sounds…” Hard. Or maybe it was a blessing in disguise, Monty couldn’t really decide. He recalled with unfortunate clarity all the little details of each time he lost control in the face of starvation and killed someone, even if he was zoned out in that moment. 

—

“For real. That’s absolutely disgusting,” he agreed with laughter to match. It was one of those things he couldn’t tell people about, but he figured a guy who ate brains would feel his pain and relate a little. Most of his struggles were unrelatable now, and Alan often ached for being understood. “I don’t always forget. Full moons are more complicated than the other nights,” meanwhile new moons left him feeling incomplete now. 

“I black out, I suppose, but…” He wasn’t sure how to define it. Sometimes, he’d wake up with anger coursing through him still, and others with a taste in his mouth, with the feeling of a full stomach, the sort you got after spending Sunday lunch at your mother’s, except he had no damn idea of what was now sitting in his stomach. “I did what you probably did. I tried not to…” lash out, not to be a monster. It was easier to embrace it than reject it. “But nature is a hell of a lot stronger than us.” There was bitterness tainting each word, and the look on his face was one of a man who gave up on trying. Falling silent, Alan took the lead again, guided by what was left of Monty’s walk to the campsite, a faint smell he’d now associate with him. 

—

Hoofing it barefoot through the woods was probably not a wise idea, but being undead had the added benefit of severely dulling his sense of touch, so he didn’t notice all the sharp little this and that’s poking his heels and toes as they walked.

Nature was stronger than they were, that was certainly something Monty had been made to understand over the last one hundred and forty years. That long, and he still couldn’t help himself when the hunger caught up to him. Maybe he’d do better if he just accepted it like Alan seemed to have done, but even after all this time, it felt… wrong. It felt so against everything that had ever made him the man he was—he’d be sick either way. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. A  second death would be the only real escape, but he wanted to do something meaningful before that happened. 

“Lo siento, amigo.” A beat. “How’d it happen?” He meant the werewolf business, of course, not understanding that someone could simply be born into it.

—

“Mmmh?” Alan didn’t understand the apology, but figured Monty was one of those people who was just polite. “How did it happen?” Well that didn’t take long. Not that it was a surprise. 

Alan breathed heavily through his nose. It might not have been yesterday, he wasn’t comfortable with this, with all this. “It’s incredibly boring,” he began. Didn’t feel that way when it happened. He had never been more terrified than the night he thought he would die. There was the pain, the sounds, and everything he couldn’t see. It was a dark night. The sound of his bones being crushed in the beast’ jaw was his most striking memory. The pain had faded away, somehow. God knows how. “I was going back home. I took a shortcut through the woods.” He pulled onto his collar, pushing it aside to let the other have a look at the scar on his shoulder. It wasn’t a perfectly formed semi circle, a werewolf’s jaw was a machine, not a work of art. He tried not to look at it. Not anymore. In the first months, in the first year, there wasn’t a day that passed without him staring at it in disgust. 

“What about you? How did it happen?” 

—

Monty’s gaze was drawn to the wound and he felt a familiar ache in his heart for the man; the same one he’d felt when he looked down at the scar on his own arm after turning. Prior to dying, it’d just been a terrifying reminder of that night, and Monty had had it partially covered with a hand poked tattoo he got with the encouragement of his—of Hector. That had to have been back in 1890, at least.

“That’s awful.” For something so terrible to have happened by chance. But then— “I understand, though. I… was herding cattle. There was a storm, some of them got out and made a break for the mesas, and I had to—I didn’t see the pit of mud. That thing must have been buried in a shallow grave, and the downpour set it free.” He looked down at his arm, pushing the sleeve back to show Alan the scar. “That was back a long time ago. I didn’t—it didn’t kill me that night, I killed it first. But I got shot by some lawmen a couple decades later, and, well…” His voice trailed, hand moving to let the sleeve fall back over the old wound. 

—

“It wasn’t fun, no,” he cleared his throat. His voice had come out a bit hoarser than he would have liked it to be and Alan was glad to have a distraction then, as unfortunate as it was. He fell quiet. As the other told him about how he came to starve for human brains, details about his story made him wonder where his new friend came from, and when he came from as well. Perhaps it was none of his business, and maybe the other didn’t want to talk about it, but it was going to be a long silent walk if they decided to speak about nothing.

“You’re not your age, are you?” A weird question if there ever was one. Alan offered a sympathetic smile, reaching over to give Monty a pat on the back. “You don’t need to answer my questions. I’m not precisely talkative myself,” sniffing, he stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“You need to be careful, in those woods. Things aren’t always what they seem around here,” always be cautious was the underlying message. It was exhausting, but Alan didn’t survive being attacked by a fucking feral werewolf just to meet his end to another supernatural being. 

—

“Is it that obvious?” Monty asked with a weary laugh. When Alan’s hand met his back he tensed, though he tried to hide the involuntary reaction. Still, there was a breathless quality to his voice when he spoke again, shaking his head and looking off into the middle distance. “Ahh, that’s—that’s all right, wey,” he answered anxiously, a forced smile appearing on his lips. “Um, but, yeah. I got bit in 1887. Turned in 1904, when the law caught up with us. Mi familia. Not… by blood, but familia all the same.” A faraway expression settled over the man’s soft features, and he absentmindedly pressed a hand over the tattoo on his arm. “They… put me on one of the wagons, under some tent canvas. They were going to bury me, I think, when they found a new place to set up camp.” Slight shoulders hunched in shame, head drooping. “But I woke up again before they got there. Killed some of them. He—the leader of our—” The zombie tripped over his words and squinted his eyes shut, wrapping his arms about himself. “Tried to stop me. Tried to kill me. Didn’t work, obviously. Ran after that. Been running ever since. Working on ranches, farms… doing what I know. And now I’m here, trying to… to start over.” But he’d already fucked that up, hadn’t he? It’d only taken six months, this time. “But I’ll have to leave again, since I… killed those people.” He sounded sad about it, dragging a hand over his face. 

—

“It’s in the way you talk,” he kept his hand on the other’s shoulder for a moment in gentle reassurance, as if to say, we have to stick together. If only not to end up like Nathalie. Alan knew for certain that if she hadn’t been alone in the woods, perhaps she’d still be here. He didn’t comment for a bit on what the other was telling him. Over 150 years old, and he still looked younger than him. The thought didn’t last for long, and he preferred to let his curiosity wander toward something else. “You don’t seem like much of an outlaw to me,” at all. Of course, he could have it all wrong, but he couldn’t see that man running about the far west spreading death and despair. 

All of that still sounded painful to Monty, even after all this time, and Alan preferred not to ask. There were subjects that were best left untouched when you were barely getting acquainted with someone. Sure, covering one’s murder tracks was quite the shortcut in terms of friendship, but he preferred to play it safe. “You don’t have to go anywhere. They’ll think these idiots got mauled by a bear, or a wolf. That’s what they always say,” it was a guarantee, or a rare promise even, that everything, this once, would be alright. “How often do you need to eat ?” He put his hand back in his pocket and stared in the distance. “Ideally?” 

—

He wasn't much of an outlaw. He never had been. Monty kept his gaze on his feet as they walked, devouring the hurt that was clawing its way up and out of his gut, keeping it hidden. For the most part. "I was, um…" The right words seemed difficult to come by. "I wasn't usually the one doing the… you know. I was a good thief, though. Took care of the horses." Of course the things that his found family did to other people never sat right with him, but what could he do? Leaving hadn't been an option for him. For anyone else, maybe, but not for him. "I stayed because I… there was… someone." And that was all he could really say about it. 

The zombie glanced gratefully over at Alan, his expression one of fear and uncertainty, but thankfulness as well. "Thank you," he muttered softly, the relief evident in his voice. The question about his eating habits was a peculiar one, and he hesitated. "Uh… I'm not… sure. I try to go as long as I can without. Hunting animals seems to be an okay alternative." Until it wasn’t. Until nights like tonight. "Works for… a few months. I went a few years, one time." He didn't mention that it had been absolute agony and he'd basically been a feral creature living in the forest eating everything in his path to try and sate his appetite. "But–don't worry about that, amigo." There was a hint of confusion in his voice. "That is my burden to bear." He wasn't positive that Alan was thinking about helping more than he already had, but it sure sounded like it. 

—

“A thief ey?” Well that made more sense. Theft wasn’t easy, and the fear of getting caught mustn’t have been easy to deal with, but it was clean. Alan could see this guy only stealing from the rich. Little Zombin Hood. Alan’s expression softened some more at the mention of someone special. It always wound up to that, didn’t it? “That makes sense,” it was perhaps one of the worst reasons to stay, but he kept that thought to himself. When someone sacrificed so much for a cause they thought just, it was just not right to tell them that they’d been wrong. 

With a shake of his head, Alan dismissed it. “No need. I was happy someone helped me when I needed it. Just do the same for someone else,” he glanced over his shoulder, then back to the path ahead of them. 

A few months, perhaps a year, a few years even. So nothing too bad. Alan ran into game hunters more often than that, idiots with a rifle who wanted to put his head over the fireplace. “You don’t bear that burden very well,” he commented. “There’s a reason why I’m asking anyway. Every now and then, I have to defend myself from… Doesn’t matter, but, I could bring you their brain,” head, he was not touching people’s brains but he could tear off their head before. “That wouldn’t be too bad, would it? Two birds with one stone, you know?”

—

Monty couldn’t help but laugh at the astute observation: he didn’t bear any of his burdens very well. He was more disaster than person, stumbling forward through life, always on the verge of collapse. But at least he still had it in him to be kind. 

The offer, kind as it was, coming from a place of care for someone he’d only just met, was one that made the zombie’s throat constrict. “N-no,” he stammered, waving both hands in the air dismissively, “Don’t—you don’t have to do anything like that. I do not want to impose. You’ve done enough for me, really.” 

—

It was nice to hear the man laugh. It felt a bit like seeing the sun after a storm, and bore a lot more warmth than it would have had in a different context. Was it contrast that made it all so much more valuable? 

Alan’s eyes wrinkled with compassion. He expected the other to say no. People didn’t like to accept help, and he didn’t expect the other to say yes, not when the offer consisted in hey, do you want me to become your personal brain delivery guy? I promise to harvest them fresh for you. “You don’t impose, since I offer. People will die, might as well be for a reason beyond self defense.” 

—

It wasn’t logic that Monty could really argue with. If the person was going to die anyway… he didn’t like the implications, but part of him hoped that Alan would simply forget about the offer the next time he had to ‘defend himself’, and leave the zombie out of it. 

Like he said, it was kind, but—well, Monty had never been too good at accepting kindness, either. 

“Fine, okay, I guess,” he conceded with a defeated shrug, circling his arms around his middle again. They’d nearly reached the edge of the woods, now, the trees thinning out around them as the expansive fields of the agricultural part of Wicked’s Rest stretched out before them. The moon was sinking lower in the sky, beckoning the warmth of the sunrise. He needed to get home before then, before people started going about their day and he had to face them with dried blood still clinging to his eyelashes and the roots of his hair. 

“I—gracias, again.” He’d probably never stop thanking the man, if their paths continued to cross. “I owe you. Let me know if there’s ever a way I can repay you.”

—

“De nada,” he stopped in his tracks to look at the sky, with its pale pink and orange hues. What a beautiful sight it was. Maybe this meant the other owed him, and maybe there would come a day when Alan could use someone like him, but perhaps he would find a much worthier treasure in the friendship to stem from their peculiar deal. 

“No te preocupes,” Alan dismissed the thought, having settled his mind on the matter already. He’d rather have one friend than yet another person feeling indebted to him, and rather more than another person who hated his guts for a damn good reason. “This is where you live?” He pointed toward the one farm he could see from here. If he had some thoughts about farms, he kept them for himself. Maybe his nose made it a bit too complicated to satisfy himself with that sort of life, and yet, didn’t he long for that sort of silence? “I’ll be heading home myself, but I’ll visit soon. I promise,” not even with a snack, but rather for a chat. Things didn’t have to always be transactional. 

[shytastemakerthing]

Hello dear! By a stroke of luck I saw you were doing matchups and I'd love to join <33 I'd like a matchup for Ikemen Prince please, if that's okay!!

My pronouns are She/Her and I'd like it to be romantic please <3.

For some positive personality traits: I'm overall very friendly and easy to approach. I'm very patient and slow to anger. I'm very empathetic and sympathetic, I have a very easy time putting myself in others' shoes and rarely judge others. I'm a good listener and very attentive to others' needs. I tend to remember little things about the people I love and if I'm passionate about something I will always put my 110% in.

For some negative traits: I have a bad habit of being a people pleaser and have an overall hard time saying no unless I'm asked something blatantly dangerous. I'm a big daydreamer so I often have my head in the clouds which can make me less attentive to my surroundings and may lead the to zone out every now and then. I'm a BIG procrastinator and when I don't really like something I'll leave it until the very last moment to do. And lastly I tend to beat around the bush when I have to say something negative to someone or about someone to them or at least take a while to at least get to it because I try to sugarcoat it as much as possible. So... Basically not very straightforward.

Zodiac signs:

Sun: Taurus Moon: Pisces Rising: Cancer Venus: Pisces

Mbti and enneagram: INFP-T 9w1

Love languages: All of them tbh but primarily Words of affirmation and Physical touch.

My hobbies include:

-Ballet

-Cooking/Baking

-Playing Piano and Bass guitar

-Writing (poetry/songs/books)

-Reading

-Listening to music

For other details:

I like animals, I like to go on unnecessarily long walks, another unsung love language of mine is just feeding people? It ties in with my hobby for sure but with me you'll never go hungry, I like dressing up, my favorite season is winter, I'm very affectionate both verbally and physically and will tone it down depending on the person, I can be very talkative with the right person, other than ballet I'm quite proficient in a viennese waltz too and... That's all I can think of at the moment.

I hope that's enough!

Thank you so so much dear <3

-🩰

Hello! Thank you so much for your request! I'm sorry that this took forever to get out but I do hope that you enjoy it!

Tw; none

I match you with...........

Yves Kloss

Just the reason that you are such a friendly and easy going person alone was enough to actually get this friendship started to begin with. Look, the man absolutely cares about anyone and everyone, but showing that love on the outside is a whole different story. He just needs a little help.

What really got this going, to where you two officially became a pair was when he walked in on you baking. It was later in the evening, you had music playing and he couldn't help but to watch as you danced your way through the kitchen throughout the baking process. It was something that he wanted to see more of.

This then starts baking dates, cause he quite likes baking as well. So the both of you are always making something for one another that you both either sit there in the kitchen and eat, or pack it up for each other if it's a more busy day. Absolutely no one touches the little box of sweets that you made for him. He will hold onto that like a vice.

Please read to him. He finds your voice just so soothing and it can be rather crazy around as we have all seen. Bonus points if he gets a cuddle out of you. He will never refuse. But the chances are, between your voice reading to him, him cuddled next to you enough to hear your heartbeat, there is the possibility he will fall asleep. It's just too comfortable.

He does not mind at all if you space out and begin daydreaming again. It's a sign of a creative mind, at least, he thinks so. During one of these times, he actually brought a journal with him. It's a gift just for you. Perhaps you would like a place to write down whatever it is that you day dream about. Your own little dream journal.

Overall, his favorite way to be able to spend his time with you, is when you both are just able to enjoy the company of one another. You don't always have to be doing something. He will gladly join you for your walks or time in the kitchen. Just so long as he gets to be with you, he is happy.

[midnightunderground-npcs]

Mateo’s body was not yet cold when the sun’s first rays began slithering across the expanse of the Neon Museum— his spirit was tethered still, tied to his corporeal form as he waited for La Virgen de Guadalupe to claim his soul. The Cicerone, as She’d been called these days. Or was it the Guide? It was all bullshit, anyhow, none of it mattered now that he’d lost the battle in an attempt to win the war for his benefactor. Knowing all he did, he wouldn’t see heaven. Hell perhaps, if not Purgatory. 

He laid there then, beside his body, waiting to be claimed.

That absolution would never come to him, though. Not as the sun’s rays crested the peaks of the clouds in the sky, that light splitting apart the dark of night and slithering across the darkened space of the Neon Museum. 

What a shame he’d turned from the Navarro magic. Had he studied more than he’d slain, he may have found something of note about this curse— a man with such dedication to his convictions is bound to. But he didn’t and now his death would be a mere footnote in Kinich Ahau’s redemption; his revenge on those that had imprisoned him.

Still, this end is a beautiful thing, with the way the magic glitters within those tendrils of sunlight, golden gossamer searching and searching until they find purchase on the corpse of a broken man. As the light creeps over his body, a voice calls out to the Hunter’s ghost, what do you and the rest of these deniers give me but scraps? The call of magic was a gift from me to you and you’ve wasted it, and here I am now, hungry, chained to this world still...I’ll consume you still. I know not of being so wasteful.

Light covers his corpse, a blanket of warmth as he begins dissipating from this world, consumed by an ancestor so hungry for freedom. Mateo thought he’d be free from this curse, that he’d eradicate it and free the Navarros to come. And even there he’d been a failure.

You’ve barely any magic in you, but I’ll take it. The other two, they’ll surely have more for me. For he has been communing with me for some time now and she has finally heard my call— I will be freed from my prison, and I will have all that I deserve, all that has been taken from me.

There’s a flash of light thereafter, blinding as a man is stolen from his afterlife. He’s gone soon after, his corpse and the phantom tethered to this very being, his story concluding with a silent voice, one he’d shielded his ears from for as long as he had heard it. As the final bits of his essence were siphoned by something other, he could only wonder, would there ever be an end to this damnation? Would the Navarros ever greet a sun that did not wish to immolate their very souls?

At the other side of the museum some time after, a God is stepping through the veil, coming to collect the soul of a man who has lived a life poisoned by his own righteousness.

Typically these children were not hers to collect— the Guide was always less than careful when shepherding those that wasted a life needlessly slaying her own. Her grip was often tighter when chaperoning hunters, sometimes so much so that their essences trembled with the possibility of complete eradication. 

It would be so easy to smite them from existence, to keep them from an afterlife, but...to destroy one of the Cicerone’s wards like this was not the way. It would remedy none of the deep-rooted issues of this realm, the one they had so carefully cultivated.

As she walked through the maze of neon signs, the Guide wondered if this would be the one to break her; the first to fill her with a grief so all-consuming, she committed an offense against her own darling. Justice should have been hers to serve, yes, but their Mother did not allow for such interferences— it was bad enough that she had helped Dilara, bad enough that she had given her sweet peri, ever the champion, such an advantage in this hunt. 

Selfish as she was though, the Guide had asked for more; she asked her dearest Cicerone for one small favor, for permission to take this child of a false God and usher him across the veil. 

Cloaked in all-black as she had all those years before, when they called for Charon, and even now when they called for la Calaca, she is a Grim Reaper with a devilish smile on her face. And though, there is no joy in the loss of a child, Mateo was sounding an alarm. He’d harmed so many on his crusade, even turning on his own people as the Sirens had done before; he’d harmed her children as he took them from their homes; and she’d harmed her little Fae in an attack most cowardly. The Hunter did not deserve a sweet journey across the veil.

But— curious? As the Guide turns the corner she sees something most peculiar. 

Mateo Navarro’s corpse is not where they’d left it. Instead, the Guide feels a disturbance in the air around her, the shimmering energy of magik left over, “you’ve got to be kidding me,” she calls into the empty space. If that fucker was still trying to push his luck at a prison break, she’d wake Hiedral herself and make her clean up this mess. “You shouldn’t give a man a chance to evade death if there’s even the slightest chance he’ll be so audacious as to spit in your face. But then, I shouldn’t blame her...some people just aren’t meant to be Gods...”

[mt-musings]

To Inherit the Night - 8

Claude stared at Cecily for a long time as the others filtered out. Hilda and Lorenz had remained the longest, dramatically debating whether or not the heroine of their latest read should choose one love interest or the other and complaining about the wait for the sequel, something he knew Cecily would have usually been right in the middle of. He would have never pegged her as an avid romance reader, but he did enjoy her absolute buck-wild takes on whatever book they were discussing. They always involved too much murder and subterfuge and possibly the overthrowing of a small-to-medium sized kingdom, but she always made them sound endearingly amusing. Instead, though, she just stared into the middle distance, brows pinched together as she nursed a glass of wine. 

He couldn’t help but let his eyes trace her face, note—as he did every time she returned—all the differences, the new scars and bruises, the sharper jut of her bones beneath her skin. 

They were his fault, at least partially. Every injury gathering intel for the Alliance, every wound sabotaging the front lines to keep the Empire at bay, keeping the war from their doorstep. He remembered when she used to laugh, when her smile had been easy and warm, when sadness hadn’t hung so heavy behind her eyes. 

His stomach lurched uncomfortably as he thought about the way she’d stared at the food laid out for dinner, food that wasn’t out of the ordinary to anyone else at the table, besides perhaps Balthus. It was enough to make him realize that he’d never truly been hungry, not in the way she surely had. 

Lorenz had cornered him after she’d disappeared off to his laboratory, his face pinched in the way he was oh so familiar with from Roundtable meetings and their time at school. He’d known it was about Cecily before he’d even opened his mouth, had known it would be from the moment he heard him fussing over her as they came up the stairs to his study. 

He was quite sure Lorenz liked her more than a friend and also quite sure that, besides Cecily, he was the only one who hadn’t a clue. He might have found it terribly amusing that the most pretentious of nobles, who had most loudly and frequently declared that he needed a proper Lady wife equal to his station, had fallen for the peasant spymaster of a criminal gang. He might have, if he didn’t understand exactly why, if he didn’t see the way she viscously protected those she cared about, if he didn’t see how absolutely she devoted herself to whatever she deemed important, if he didn’t see how brilliant she was when she wanted to be. 

If a big part of him didn’t feel the exact same way. 

He knew that was why he’d offered her the advisory position in the first place—strategically, it was terrible. Sure, he could find other spies, he hadother spies, but none with the same far-reach, none had the same sort of initiative, none kept him so well-informed. Could he use her strategic mind in keeping the Alliance safe on the razor’s edge of neutrality? Absolutely. But that task would be made infinitely harder without her intel. 

Of course, if she’d take the job he’d know each morning that she was alive, that she hadn’t been murdered in the night at the hands of one of Hubert’s agents or while sneaking behind enemy lines. She wouldn’t be thin enough that he could count each of her ribs, that he could feel them, right under her skin. She wouldn’t come back with a dozen new scars and twice as many bruises. 

“She nearly died, Claude,” he’d said, jaw tight. “Loudon said had she not had the foresight to pack the wound with the rough antidote she made she probably would have, especially with how underweight she is. She was—I’ve never seen her cry, not in all the times she’s shown up bleeding at our doorstep, and she couldn’t stop herself until Loudon was able to give her a painkiller. She couldn’t breathe, would have suffocated if the wound was half an inch deeper and it fully pierced her lung. It’s not a jest, when I say that she needs to rest.”

He’d still thought then, perhaps Lorenz was exaggerating as he was want to. Until he’d seen the wound for himself. He was sure she’d meant to placate him by showing it to him—it was hardly two inches of stitches along her rib, after all. She might have fooled him that way, if it hadn’t been for the blackened veins spidering out from the wound, the deep bruising from the internal bleeding. Her nerves had been so fried from the toxin that she’d winced at the slightest brush of his fingers. Of course he’d also been taken aback by the sheer number of brutal scars that covered her skin. Scars that hadn’t been healed with magic. 

It was hard to believe she’d acquired so many, especially when anytime she’d gotten so much as a bad scratch at the Academy Yuri had always been quick to heal it. Maybe with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, but he’d always healed them, whether she’d asked or not.

She turned and caught him staring, furrowing her brow. 

“What? Why are you staring?”

“How about a nightcap?” He asked. Her face softened at that.

“The roof?”

“Of course.”

“Alright. See you there,” she said, and finished her wine and disappeared out into the hall. He waited a moment before he followed, stopping in his study to grab a bottle of liquor, something he’d been saving. He didn’t bother with glasses, though he did grab a thick blanket from one of the armchairs facing the fireplace so they wouldn’t have to lie on the cold tiles. She’d already beat him to the roof by the time he climbed out the window, head tipped back as she surveyed the stars just beginning to peek out against the dusk sky. 

He laid out the blanket and plopped himself down, uncorking the bottle as she scooted over to sit beside him. It wasn’t something he’d usually favor—he preferred bold, rich flavors, savored the burn of whatever liquor he happened to drink. This was delicate and floral, so smooth he could hardly guess it was alcohol at all, though he knew it packed a punch. He knew Cecily would drink whatever was offered—he’d tried the swill she’d drank at the Wilted Rose, had regretted more than one swig of the flask she kept at her hip—but he knew she enjoyed the subtle sweetness, knew she favored florals and bright citrus and would never pay half of what he had for the bottle. He offered her the first sip and she hummed appreciatively at the taste, passing it back to him. 

She seemed perfectly happy to sit in silence, eyes trained on the stars. There was something heavy hung about her, something more than the usual cynicism she carried with her from the front lines. 

“You’ve been really quiet,” he said, finally breaking the silence. It was another beat before she turned, taking a breath before meeting his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” she said, clever eyes narrowing slightly as she searched his face. It almost made him laugh. 

“I didn’t ask you if you were fine.”

“It’s what you meant. I know it’s what you meant.”

“And I know you’re not fine. Not really.”

She sat in silence for a long time, lips pursed, before she sighed, letting her head thud back to the roof. “I’m just tired. It’s been four years. I’m just—I’m tired, Claude.”

He sat up to look at her. She avoided his gaze, jaw tight. 

“Cecily—“

“I’m going to go to bed,” she said, rising quickly. She snagged the bottle from where it sat between them and crossed back to the edge, ducking effortlessly back onto the balcony and through the study window. 

~~~

He knew he’d been right to go through Shae, to pay her ridiculous finder’s fee to track down the information he needed. 

Yuri stared at the tome, eyes almost blurring with how fast he read. The whole thing seemed outlandish—farcical, even. A fairytale, an old myth, some half-baked legend—of course, three years ago he would have said the same about giant, near-immortal shape-shifting dragons. Still, the idea that Cecily could be some sort of apocalyptic harbinger of death and darkness, that she might carry in her the blood of a long-murdered god—

He should dismiss it as insanity, he wanted to dismiss it as insanity. Goddess knew he wanted to dismiss it. But he’d seen glimpses of what she could do, felt the raw power coursing just under her skin, knew what Arundel and his ilk were willing to do for a few vials of her blood.

Hell, he’d seen first hand the horrors they’d been able to inflict with her refined blood. 

It wasn’t a Crest. He’d known that since she was twelve, since he’d poured over every tomb on the subject in House Rowe looking for one that might fit her powers. It didn’t work like any of the other, didn’t even work like any magic he’d seen or studied, not even Faith magic—it didn’t take her force of will or belief, and certainly didn’t take any fancy equations or components. It came purely from herself, from something alien and innate within her.

And he was convinced it was killing her. 

More so than the constant runs and skipped meals, he was convinced using her power as she was was killing her. That it was chipping away at her very being. He couldn’t prove it, not with the stress of everything else on her shoulders, but he could see it when she returned. 

He’d hoped to find a solution, potions to brew, perhaps a spell or two to rejuvenate her, to work on replacing what had already been lost, what Arundel had stolen from her, but instead he was met only with horrors, with a mandate to destroy any and all perceived to be like her on sight, to burn their corpses and scatter them to the sea. That they were capable of nothing except death and pain and misery, that they needed it, fed on it to even sustain themselves. 

Yuri looked up as the door burst open, mages flooding the room. He grit his teeth at the familiar figure who stepped into the room last, taking the second before silence was cast over him to incinerate the book in his hands to ash. 

The last thing he needed was the Empire to have more motivation to track down Cecily, for them to know the true extent of her power, her capabilities. He remembered the tiny, broken thing he’d found in the tunnels of Rowe, remembered what they’d done to her when she was a tiny girl with a strange Crest. He couldn’t fathom the atrocities they’d inflict on her if they even suspected she carried the blood of a dark god, a god of endless night and shadow, a god that seemed opposed to the goddess in every way. 

The spell cost him his moment to spirit away, or at least his chance to try. There were seven Empire agents, including Hubert, and only one of him. Even he knew it would be foolish to put up a blatant fight under those odds. 

“Ah, the Mockingbird. How lovely to see you again, it’s been far too long,” Hubert said, the same sinister smile he’d worn too often at the academy plastered on his face. 

“Go to hell,” Yuri spat back. There would be no sweet-talking the Emperor’s right hand, no reason to resort to flattery. 

Not that he was convinced he could make himself, anyway, not when he could read Hubert’s intentions in his stupid, smug face. 

Next

[gyofukuki]

Introducing: Shoko Ieiri

Origin:

Sourced from: Jujutsu Kaisen (manga up to ch. 263 + anime up to s2)

Voiced by: Aya Endo

Character Name:

Full name: Shoko Ieiri

Nicknames: Doc, Sho

Basic Information:

Age: 17 / 28* (verse dependent)

Gender: female

Date of Birth: November 7

Place of Birth: Yamagata, Japan

Place of Residence: Tokyo, Japan

Nationality: Japanese

Physical Appearance:

Height: 5'6

Build: compact, gamine

Hair Color: milk chocolate brown

Eye Color: milk chocolate brown

Scars or distinguishing marks: birth mark under the right eye

Personality Traits:

Strenghts: pragmatic, diligent, resourceful, charismatic, witty

Weaknesses: cynical, enabling, morbid, inert, compulsive

Background and History:

Family Background: big, if somewhat impoverished family of absolutely no status in the Jujutsu society, mixing freely with non-sorcerers, told to be majorly descendant from Emishi people

Parents: Harumi and Yoshio Ieiri, your perfect... marriage of convenience. Both were Jujutsu Sorcerers, both are now deceased, having died in the line of duty. Harumi was first, Yoshio soon followed. Shoko has only somewhat hazy memories of both from when she was a child.

Siblings (if any): none

Childhood: From her first years of life, she remembers mostly being on the road a lot, and lots, lots of cousins and aunts and uncles. That was when her parents were still alive, as they tended to be quite busy with work and so it was often up to the extended family and family friends to take care of her. There wasn't any overt harm to that, she was generally treated well, especially considering most of the adults in her life were not very well off, and still they tried their best to provide for her as well without any real obligation to do so. It has, however, prevented her from creating any strong, lasting bonds during that time. Too many changes, of households, schools, whathave you. It became even more chaotic after both of her parents died, up until she was scouted by Masamichi Yaga and enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Only then she had a chance to know stability, both in everyday life and financial.

Education: She attended regular, public primary and junior high school, the only irregular thing about it being she was transferred multiple times due to moving from one place to another to live with different family members. All the while, she was trained and instructed in Jujutsu techniques, showing great propensity for the Reversed Cursed Technique and absolutely no talent for use of actual Cursed Technique. After that, she attended Tokyo Jujutsu High, where the focus was shifted towards making the most out of her healing abilities. After graduating, she enrolled into private medical collage to make sure she has best possible training in that regard as well. Overall, she has been a very picky, and occasionally rebellious, but a good student, hungry for knowledge.

Major/Area of Study: Emergency Medicine

Favorite Subjects: Disaster Medicine, Cadaver Practicum, Forensic Pathology

Least Favorite Subjects: Pharmacology, Biochemistry

Career/Profession: medical doctor

Current Occupation: school doctor at Tokyo Jujutsu High, makeshift forensic pathologist at the same location

Previous Jobs: bar hostess

Career Goals: finding a way to imbue Reversed Cursed Technique into objects so the healing effect can be carried through without a sorcerer's presence

Hobbies and Interests:

Hobbies: drinking, playing guitar, origami

Interests: motorcycle racing, live music, urban exploration

tbc.

[get0sfav]

SOO, 9:30? | toji f.

↳ toji fushiguro x f!reader

you absolutely loved your boyfriend, and you wanted everyone to know that you're his and only his.

a/n: based on this ask! also this was supposed to be just smut idk why this turned out to have a plot also I hate the ending ew.

18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings! no curses au, ceo!toji, sugarbaby!reader, soft toji, toji is LOADED with money, he spoils you, kinda fluff-ish, age gap (toji is 35 while reader is in her early 20's), pet names (baby, princess, doll, slut), cuss words, biting, semi-public sex, almost getting caught during sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, mentions of voyeurism, breeding, office sex, slight choking, lovesick!reader, not proof read!

wc: 3.2k

→ Where are you????

→ In a meeting doll, I'll call you soon.

→ I miss you toji :(

→ I know baby I miss you too, don't worry I'll be back soon, 'kay?

→ You've been gone for so long what if I forget you?

→ you wound me with your words doll, I'm sure you won't forget me after not seeing me for 3 days.

→ But what if I do?

→ I'll make sure to fuck you good enough so you don't.

→ You gotta come back for that duh

→ I want you at my house at 9:30. Sharp.

Sighing, you're almost quick enough to close your phone as you read his text, but you're stopped as you see his caller ID with that photo of him you love so much pop on your screen, and you're quick to pick up the phone and press it to your ears, "Hey baby" Your voice is soft as you lay plopped on your bed, hanging your head upside down with the pink phone pressed to your ear as you talked to your boyfriend, who was currently busy at work. You hear him chuckle from the other line, before his voice speaks, "Hi princess, you miss me so much eh?"

"Mhm" You mumbled with a frown, flipping onto your stomach, with one of your hands supporting your chin. "When are you coming back?"

"Let's see, my flight lands at 8:00, so I'll be with you by 10:00 hm?"

"Soo, 9:30? I'll see you there" You're basically smiling ear to ear at the fact that you're getting to see him after 3 whole days as you cut the call with a small 'bye.'

He can practically hear your smile through the phone, which brings a smile to his own face, and it warms his heart so much. He couldn't believe how lucky he was with you and he couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend than you.

Toji had too much money. He always did ever since he had his own company at the age of 22. He was an international sensation, being one of the youngest owners of an internationally worth billion dollar company, and with that came the green. He'd admit to himself that he was always money hungry, always going after money, money and money, but now that he had so much of it, he wanted someone to spend it with.

He's had many, many relations, both sexual and intimate but sadly none of them ever seem to work. He loves spending cash on his partners, but when all they could care about was the money, he was getting annoyed.

So he decided on one thing, that he's going to be what people seemed to call 'A sugar daddy' (he didn't like the term at all, but whatever, he thought) until he found someone who was worthy of his love, worthy of seeing him in his bare form.

One thing about him was that Toji hated crowded places, hated them to his core. Despite being forced to attend numerous meetings, functions, parties and what not, he still hated being with a crowd. So when he found out his favorite cafe which was the only place where he could find some solitude was closing down, he was pissed.

He offered to buy the cafe, but the owner politely declined, saying that the cafe was run by his wife, and as she was no more, he couldn't bear to continue on. Although he did recommend Toji another coffee house, albeit it was a little out of the way, the man assured him that he'd find solitude there for sure.

And that's when you came in. It was your first day working at the cafe when he came in. Your hair was a bit messy, coffee stains all over your apron and you were obnoxiously loud. It almost made him turn back around, but he was too tired for that, so he decided to give you and the coffee house a chance, and oh, he was glad he did.

It was mostly empty, just the way he liked it. He'd come in at odd hours, either just a minute before closing or in the middle of the day when the sun was shining. He was a busy man after all. But what he loved most about the little coffee house was how happy you were every time he paraded inside the threshold of the coffee house, grumbling about some stupid work thing. He wondered why you were so happy around him, and he thought it was probably because of how hefty he tipped. But, he was wrong.

He muttered your name from your name tag as you were about to walk away, "The hell are you so happy for?" He asked, not looking up from his phone. That was the first actual sentence, besides thank you's and orders he'd said to you. It caught you off guard, but you regained your smile quickly.

"Oh, it's nothing. I like to greet people with a smile on my face." You had answered to which he scoffed.

"I don't see you this happy around other customers though."

"You're never around when other customers are here." Snarky. He liked that. The scoff turned into a smile, "Sit, sit with me." You had protested a bit, saying your shift wasn't over yet and that the owner would yell at you, to which he waved a dismissive hand. "Your first priority should be fulfilling your customers requests, shouldn't it?"

That made you bite your cheek as you looked around, before pulling a chair to sit in front of him, smoothing your apron.

"Good, Good." He chuckled before continuing to scroll through his phone. After a moment, he put it down, making eye contact with you, and his eyes were, gorgeous. Green eyes that resembled the greatest of emeralds making contact with yours, and you found that, intimidating.

"Tell me, do you treat me differently because I tip you a lot?" A smirk played across his lips, the vertical scar on them twitching. It made him look better in some sort of way, you thought.

"Oh- no, no, not at all. I mean, my boss usually takes 30% percent of my tips so," You responded with a dry laugh, and his eyebrows raised at that.

"Do you work here part-time or is this like a permanent job for you?" He was curious now. Also, not that he'd ever admit, he was weirdly attracted to your voice. It made him feel warm inside. "Oh no, I'm in college right now, last year. I just work here to collect some extra money."

"And the owner takes 30% of your tips? that's low."

"Yeah, I mean it kinda is because that's my hard earned money, people liked my service so they tipped me. It's actually annoying because when I'm snatching up money from I don't know what places to pay my rent, I'm sure that the 30% he takes would cover it enough." Your voice feels like a melody to him, couldn't help himself from smiling.

"I could help you pay your rent." He shrugged as if it was a matter of fact, and it took you aback for a minute. "What do you mean by that?" you asked him, confused.

"I have too much money and too little things to spend on, it wouldn't hurt me or my bank account to help a pretty little thing like you. Consider it as a gift... for my favorite barista." He winked at you, signing a check, and handing it to you. With that, he left.

You blinked to check whether this was a dream or not as you look down towards the check, 500,000 yen.

That was enough money to pay your rent for the whole year. Just how rich was he to simply sign a check that big without batting a single eye??

Days passed as you waited for him to come back, to thank him and maybe, just maybe ask him out on a date. Sure he was probably a decade older than you, but it wouldn't hurt to atleast try, even though he'd probably say no. But he never came. You lost hope he was returning, going back to your regular routine.

A couple of days later, you were working in the back of the coffee house, which was short staffed today. The owner made you work coffee orders along with taking the orders as well, and you were not happy. You wanted to quit, the owner didn't even let you take a half day as your exams were approaching!

"Oi!" You heard your name being called from the front, which made you spill some milk at which you cussed, "What!" You yelled back, quickly wiping it off with a napkin. One of your co-workers walks in, "Um table 3 is asking for you by name, I'll work this order." He nodded before taking over the shaker, which made you sigh. Wiping your hands on the messy apron, you fix your hair a little before walking out to table 3.

And there he sat, the man you waited for almost a month now, peacefully drinking his regular coffee. A plain black with 1/2 a cube of sugar, heated until just boiled.

"You asked for me?" Your tone wasn't the same cheery tone you had earlier. You had no right to be mad at him, not at all. He didn't owe you anything, it was quite the opposite. Yet you couldn't help but feel some anger creeping in the back of your mind. "I did. You're coming with me." He took down his coffee in a gulp,

"What? Why?" You looked confused, as your boss called for you from the back.

"You're coming with me princess, c'mon." The nickname made your heart flutter just a bit, but you suppressed the feeling. Sighing, you quickly went to the back, removed your apron as the old owner kept talking to you. He was annoying.

Shaking your head, you picked up your bag and walked out to see your favorite customer waiting for you with a smirk on his face, which turned into a smile when you walked in front of him, exiting the small cafe.

"Sorry I left you all dry and hangin' had to go out of the country for work." His voice filled your ears as the two of you walked on the pavement. He fished out what you figured were car keys from him pocket, motioning you to follow him, and you did. The two of you walked towards his car in silence. He opened the passenger's door for you, which made your cheeks heat up just a bit, as he walked the other way around and sat in the driver's seat, starting up the engine.

"You haven't told me your name, you know?" You find yourself commenting in the silence that was filled by soft music playing from the radio, as he drives the car into the city, high rise buildings in your view. He laughed at your words, "Toji, Toji Fushiguro."

"And where are we going?" That should've been your first question before hopping in the man's car, but apparently all your common sense vanishes when you look at his pretty face. "My office, then to a shopping complex, then dinner." Your eyes widened at his words... Why was he doing all this? Did he expect that you'd fuck him after he spent some money for you?? "I'm not going to fuck you." He laughed at your comment, shaking his head.

But that's exactly what you did.

After he had taken you shopping where you picked out a dress, he took you to one of the most lavish restaurants in the entire city. It was weird, to say the least but you were enjoying being around him, and vice-versa.

He got the most expensive wine for the two of you, letting you get whatever you wanted, however you couldn't help but stop your eyes from wandering to the way his dress shirt cling to his strong frame, and most certainly couldn't sway your eyes away from the way he devoured the food in an elegant manner, yet managing to make it look so... sensual. You wished it was your cunt he was doing that to, and you didn't need to worry, because he could read your mind.

That's how you ended up in the women's washroom, the pretty black dress hunched up to your stomach and your panties pooled on the floor, while the man buried his face in your cunt, licking stripes along your folds.

"Mhmm, were you this wet the whole time? I thought you weren't going to fuck me doll." His words vibrated against your core, making you shudder as the grip you had on his shoulder got tighter.

He tskd at that, his tongue finding its way to your clit, sucking and lapping at it. Your hand slapped over your mouth to prevent the lewd sounds from spilling out, as his movements became harsher and the pleasure intensified.

"F-fuck!" You moaned when his tongue dipped down your entrance, moving back and forth all while his nose brushed against your clit. His movements picked up their pace as your hands found their way to his hair, gripping at it for support which caused him to groan, the sound only making you wetter.

Your eyes widened as you heard the entrance to the washroom open, one of your hands flying up to your mouth. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk as he pulled back, withdrawing you from the pleasure, but the sight of his lower face covered with your juices almost made you come right then and there, all while he brought out his tongue to lick them off, making you even wetter than you already were.

He got closer to you, lifting your chin with his finger as he placed a kiss on your lips, making you taste yourself. You tried hard not to moan within the kiss, before remembering that you weren't alone.

The thought excited you, getting caught while the gorgeous man in front of you ate you out like you were his last meal. He deepened the kiss, his tongue clashing with yours, your mind filling with the most unholy things you could've ever thought.

The sound of heels clicking, the water turning on and then the sound of the door closing shut made him pull away, looking at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

Without wasting a single second, he got on his knees once more, lifting one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder, mouth latching once more to your already sensitive clit, this time his fingers finding their way into your entrance, causing you to moan shamelessly. You couldn't care less if anyone could hear you, hell, you wanted them to hear you. You wanted everyone to know how fucking good he was in making you feel good, and he loved that too. He didn't know why or what prompted him to take you out today, but some part of him knew it was because he kept dreaming about you bouncing up and down over his cock, milking him for all he's worth for the last month.

He'd get to that too, soon. Right now what was important was to make you cum. He wanted to taste you so, so bad He added another finger, and then another into your tight hole, stretching it out. This was only a teaser for his cock, and he hoped you knew that.

The familiar knot turned in your stomach as your hands searched for anything to maintain balance, your head thrown back in pleasure because of how good you felt. With another thrust of his long, skilled fingers in your gummy walls and a slight suck to your clit, you were coming all over his face and fingers, while he helped you ride your high.

Panting, you closed your eyes shut when he detached from your clit, removing his fingers. Your eyes were blessed with the sight of him sucking onto his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you, and you didn't even realise that the panties you wore were now nowhere to be found, to which he just shrugged. "I mean, I should get something in return, don't you think?" Those were his words when you asked him to give them back, but he just shook his head, saying that you didn't need them anymore.

He drove you back to your house, dropping you till the door of your beaten down one bedroom apartment. You thanked him to which he replied that he's going to be back next week, so you better be ready.

And that's how it all started.

What started as weekly meet ups turned into him fucking you over his massive conference table, mumbling things like how you'd love to be fucked in front of everyone, and he was right. You couldn't give a shit about who walked in on you when all you could think about was the way his cock moved in and out of you, imprinting each and every vein or curve into your walls.

"God look at how much of a slut you are, walking around with that deep ass fucking top, showing off all the marks I gave you last night? You want people to know that you belong to me? Good, Good - Fuckkk! Maybe you'd like me to invite Shiu while I fuck your brains out, you'd cum on spot won't you? Yeah you would - you're my slut after all. You belong to me and only me, got it princess?" He'd whisper that in your ear whenever he fucked you in his office, and you couldn't deny any of the words he said. You loved to show off whatever marks he gave you, and he loved it too.

Whenever the two of you were outside, you always made sure to make out with him for the longest of times. You lived for the looks you got from other people, mostly the women who eye fucked your man, even though he wasn't 'yours' per say.

When he proposed to you, officially asking you to be his girlfriend, he gave you a gold necklace with his name on it. That way, you could finally let people know who you belonged to, who you loved. With the addition of the pretty necklace, whenever you showed up to his penthouse, you made sure to wear low-cut tops or dresses, so that both the multiple hickies that he left on your neck and the necklace were clearly visible, and oh how that made his dick harder than it already was.

He loved to tease you about it, always giving you deep marks all over your body whenever he went out on business trips, so that you'd have a reminder of how good he fucked you.

All of this was five long years back, and you still had the habit.

You smiled while putting on a pink dress which hugged your figure, the necklace with his name sitting just above your tits as you smiled at your reflection in the mirror, hoping he'd like it too.

With a smile, you locked your apartment and walked towards your car, (which was gifted by Toji on your birthday) driving towards his penthouse with a smile on your face and the familiar heat between your legs.

You couldn't wait to see your boyfriend.

[salturia]

             @projecticn​

9:00A.M, Monday, December 9th

          . . .

  𝚝𝚡𝚝: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚜, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.             𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚙𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜. 𝙶𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚌𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕. 𝚃𝚠𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜. 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚜. 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.