#let it be known i hate kale

[eupheme]

— from eden

old man logan x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 5k

tags: Logan timeline, sorta divergent/fix-it fic, angst, hurt/comfort, everyone is going through it, wound tending, dark thoughts/references to violence/death (aligning with themes in the movie), neurodegenerative disorders (Charles), multiple pov, established relationship, shower sex, oral sex, PiV, feelings

a/n: still on my druid!mutant kick - reader absorbs the sun via photosynthesis and can transfer that energy to grow plants. no features described but small details & a codename are noted in reference to her mutation.

Every day you wish you could do more. More for Charles. More for him. But the harsh sun eats away at you. You weren’t built for this heat.

You were meant for gardens. For Eden.

But you think… as your fingers trail through the earth, your life force flowing down into the greenery below - if something can grow here, in the desert - then maybe, so can hope.

Logan finds you in the garden.

It's generous to call it that. Carved out with old bits of metal, used like a spade. Scraping through dirt, packed and hard from the burning sun. Dust swirling around you - catching under your nails that are as tough as bark.

The only bit of green for a couple miles, at least. Incongruous to the climate - all you can see is desert around you.

It's only you that keeps it alive.

Your hands pass over each stalk and stem. The low thrum that used to come so easily, siphoning your life force to the roots below, comes slowly now.

Used to be able to make things bloom, just by feeling.

A garden had sprouted your first night together. Blooming lush - vines twining around the bookshelves. Wildflowers in your hair. Moss spreading out across the wooden floor, out and into the mansion.

Everyone had known you were in love.

It feels so long ago now. Another lifetime.

Now you can only tend them. You’re at your strongest in the rain, but it’s day twenty-three of sunny, blue skies. No more than a wisp of a cloud on the horizon.

It leaves you wilting. A half-broken lawn chair, dragged to face the packed-dirt road. Watching for him, as your face tips up to the sky. A slowly-recharging battery, one that hasn't been full in years.

But the sun is unforgiving. The tips of your fingers and toes darken - it's too much.

And not enough.

An eye cracks open, with the slam of a car door. There's a limp to his gait - a hand braced against the limo. Something you notice immediately. The way it takes him longer than usual to reach you.

That severe frown softening at the edges, but still holding a weight he's carried for years. A brown bag held out silently, the top crumpled from his fist.

Your fingers brush his, and you know he can see the burn. The mark between his eyebrows deepens.

"Don't push too hard, blossom," Logan rasps, "'Bout time to go in."

It makes your jaw grit, as you bristle.

You want to protest. Ask him "well, what in the hell do you think you're doing/?" He's the last person that should be lecturing you, as he shifts - a crimson glint of red near his collar.

But you don't. He doesn't mean it that way.

It comes out wrong, you've learned that by now. Misplaced anger - seeping into your roots like poison. Loving him so fiercely that it aches, to see him this way.

The Logan you knew and loved changed that day at the mansion.

"I will." You tamp the feelings down, burying them with the rest, "Let me get these started, and I'll be in."

He lingers, for a long moment.

You rip the seed packets open, scattering them across the earth you've prepared. Essentials, fit to feed Charles.

Carrots, beans, tomatoes, onions. Kale and fresh berries.

A packet of wildflowers.

There's a lump, lodged in your throat. You look over your shoulder, just as he disappears inside.

An inhaled breath, as you begin.

He knows you hate it, all the dust. The heat.

Knows you stay, for him.

Logan always was your sun.

"He's bleedin' again." It's muttered out, in greeting.

Caliban's eyes flick towards the back door, "Don't know if I've got enough peroxide to get it out."

Your smile is weary, "We'll figure it out. Always do."

A fine pair the two of you make. Only the mornings and evenings spent together, in your slow rotation of work-Charles-eat-sleep, and always just out of sync.

He tends to the smelting plant. An attempt at keeping things in place, keeping things running. Something simmering on the makeshift stove, as you empty your apron into the sink.

Outside is your domain - days spent with wind-whipped skin. The desert heat surrounding you.

"Could use some potatoes," Caliban offers, without thinking.

Peeling back the husk and silk on an ear of corn, fished out. Peering down at the kernels beneath - still hesitating, even though it's clean.

Your arms cross over your chest, head tilting, "Well, you're welcome to ask him."

It all comes out hushed, even though you know Logan is out with Charles. He gives shoots a reproachful look your way - he's already taken an earful. Doesn't need another from you.

He's been with you both for a year now. A second set of hands, as the seizures worses. You hadn’t wanted to admit you needed help - but Logan had saw right through you.

Charles’s space feels like a tomb.

Each minute you spend in that dome makes you crave another five outside. Too much for you to handle alone - something that still eats away at you.

Never felt like you were doing enough.

Carried the others with you, as he did. The shame of feeling like you should've done more. That you should have been there with them.

Buried beneath the rose bush that bloomed, when you had first told Logan you loved him.

You had thought that he had been. Had spent two years adrift, so certain he had been lost. That adamantium had not been enough to suppress the force of the seizures - that it ripped through the metal and took him from you.

It's why you cling now. Worried. Seeing how each day changes him, like it does you.

It's why you grow the vegetables for them. Even then, it's not enough. The suppressants they released still worked its way into the water and soil. You'd already ingested enough food to have it affect you.

Used to eat for fun, for pleasure. Haven't had a bite in two years now. Haven't needed to, haven't wanted to. Looking to the sun instead, even if it burns.

Now, you're just maintaining. Trying not to worsen, trying your best to keep them afloat, even if it costs you.

"Sorry." You mutter.

Easing into the routine of ladling out bowls. Chunks of half-stale bread, from the last time he baked. Hadn't harvested as much wheat this season as you would have liked. Pests chewing up a portion before you noticed.

The drought makes you hazy. Running on fumes for a while now. Same as all the rest.

Two bowls set on a plastic tray. A glass of tepid water in a chipped mason jar tucked in the crook of your arm. Fingers swirling in the liquid to cool them, before you're tilting it back - taking a swallow. Just managing to ease your parched throat.

"How is he?" You ask.

Caliban's eyes are slow to meet yours. He looks at you like he knows something you don't. Few secrets between you, except ones like these that he keeps deep. It always sends a twist in your belly.

Curling vines, weaving between your ribs.

"Logan or Charles, dearest?"

"Both." You sigh, "Either."

“Logan is… well. You saw him.” Caliban mutters. His nose twitches. A breath - as if he means to say something.

He falls silent instead, pivoting, “And Charles still thinks he's in Macbeth."

It makes your heart lurch, how so kind and sound a mind had changed. Not his fault and it only makes you love him more, after everything.

“Been asking about someone named Erik lately, too.”

You and Logan had agreed. It was better that Charles didn’t know, if he didn’t have to. That the two of you would bear it - shielding him like he had shielded so many for years.

But it never made the memories any easier.

His head inclines towards the trays, "You want me to take those out?"

Caliban knows you hate it.

You know the sun is still setting, sitting golden on the horizon.

A shake of your head, as the tray tucks under your arm.

“Thanks, Cal. I've got it."

The music comes first - 60s-era jazz, floating through the opened door. Voices come after, as you step into the shadows.

“-sorrow words, the grief that does not speak," Charles's reciting pitches louder, as his chair wheels in front of you, "Knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break-”

Logan stalks after, reaching for the controls.

"Enough."

"Thrice the brinded cat-"

The tray clatters on the top of an old desk. You step in front of them, arms spread wide, "Charles."

The chair halts, going still.

Something scrapes at your brain, when his hazy eyes meet yours. Fingers sifting through files. A dealer skillful hands, l shuffling through cards - snapping them back into place.

Plucking old memories from you like weeds. Dragging them to the surface, long buried.

He doesn’t mean to.

Doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

Your breath coming in a ragged gasp, eyes meeting Logan's. He doesn't need Charles powers to know what you're thinking.

Afraid that he'll see. What he’ll remember.

"Come on." Logan is hoisting him out of his chair. A grunt as he struggles, near dead-weight in his arms, “Enough poking around.”

Depositing Charles in his hospital bed, the last golden rays of sun streaking across the worn blankets. Logan just starts to move away, when a hand fists in his dark tie, dragging him close.

"You're not listening to me. No one listens to me." The words almost seem lucid, with how sharp his eyes suddenly shine, "Liberty, Logan. They're waiting for you. Eden-“

"No one is waiting for me." It's barked out.

Uneasy, tipping towards harsh.

Logan's patience has always ran thinner than a knife’s blade. It's love that keeps him here, you know that as well as you know your own name.

You have to step between them to break the connection. Hand wrapping around Charles' wrists - soothing, easing them down into his lap - as Logan fishes a bottle out of his pocket.

Slipping a needle into his arm. It's fluid, how you move together. Easier to help him together, then when you're alone.

It soothes the seizures. Thoughts slipping between his fingers, as he settles. The anger with it, as you bring dinner over to them. Your hand extended to take the pills that Logan shakes from a bottle.

"Take these, Professor." You coax, handing over a stained mug from the attached tray.

The chalky pills disappear, with the tilt of his head and a swallow of weak tea. Only then does it feel like you breathe. Letting your fingers drift across the makeshift herb garden he has sitting on the desk, something you tend together.

Eyes closing, as you concentrate. Pink petals blooming, plucked from the stem, and placed in Charles' open palm.

Logan's gaze a heavy weight - too tired from the day - you could already hear it in his voice. In the slow shift of his weight, as he eats.

"Only one?" The wizened fingers close like a cage around the flower, "You’ll have to work harder, Crescere."

The name is one that you haven't heard in years. It ricochets through you like a bullet, threatening to rip you open. You must show it in your face - a hand reaches to smooth down your back.

It soothes you, until an edge creeps into Charles's voice.

"If you cannot do more, how will you ever survive without soil?"

Logan goes stiff at the words. Breaking contact as if he'd been burned. A rough tilt of his head, as he pushes himself up.

“I’ll be inside.” It’s gritted out, through clenched teeth.

Leaving you alone, perched on the edge of Charles’s bed.

His mood already shifting, as it often did. The anger and confusion flaring. Melding with the medication that slows his tongue, dulls his thoughts.

“Crescere,” His eyes fix on you, while you watch the door creak shut. The moonlight has just started to stream in now, and it's just dark enough to imagine a breeze, “Have I told you about Eden?”

You tuck him in. The worn quilt tugged up high against his chest. A fingers smooth down to wrap in his - his hands frail with age, but his grip is still strong.

Tears prick your eyes, but you smile - your hand gently squeezing.

“Tell me again.”

His fingers fumble with the buttons. The black tie tugged loose, hanging against his chest. A hiss of breath, as sore shoulders roll. The dress shirt caught against his bicep, the sleeves still pushed up around his elbows.

There’s a hand against his shoulder. Your fingers slipping beneath the fabric, easing it down his arms.

“You gonna stop running from me?”

It’s soft, in the room that you share. A far cry from the mansion - all cozy, stained wood. Home.

Here, it’s sheet metal. Car batteries running a broken coffee maker, blankets stained with sweat. An industrial fan, slowly spinning where it’s mounted into the wall.

Wasn’t trying to run.

Just couldn’t shoulder your hurt, knowing he caused it himself. Knows that the heat eats away at you. Has watched how you struggle, though you hide it so well.

And the open seas - the sun and the salt water - would it be enough? Could you ever be happy, away in a place like that?

You’ve told him all you need is him. But pretty thing like you should be somewhere else.

Somewhere safe.

Knew he was too old for you, even back at the mansion - and that was when his hair was just starting to grey at the temples.

Now, he wishes he could convince you to go. Even if he couldn’t live without you.

But he knows your answer. That set of your jaw. Rooting you in place, unmoving.

It flickers in you here, as your arms wrap around him. Nose buried against the nape of his neck, as he exhales a breath that he’s held all day.

His muscles going lax as he leans into your embrace - letting you move him. Touch gentle as you guide him towards the bathroom. Fitting between spread thighs as he leans against the cracked counter, your fingers tracing the red-stained rips on the white tank beneath.

A cloth, wrapped tightly around his fist.

“Running to you,” Logan husks, “Just lost my way.”

You soften before his eyes.

Unwinding the wrappings to check the wound across his palm. Your lips pressed against scar tissue. Moving to backs of his knuckles, between the angry red slits.

Something in his chest lurches. Calming the beast, as his palm cups your cheek. Letting you lead him into the old ceramic tub, even though the space was narrow.

Lets you strip him down, knowing your eyes flicker over each scar. Looking for ones you missed, though you know them all.

Already knows what you’re going to say, when your gaze catches on the still-healing wound - a bullet beneath his collarbone. In his chest, through his bicep.

“Can’t keep taking hits, baby.” You fingers trace just shy of the wounds. Blood flaking, where he hadn’t washed well enough - two days spent in a shitty motel, each one thinking of you.

Need to shield yourself. Pick your battles.

He’s heard it all before.

Tried to earlier - wanted to gut the Alkali-Transigen fucker who had climbed into his limo. He is trying, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

All he got was a business card burning a hole in his pocket. A lie of omission like a lead weight in his belly.

Another tucked against his chest - the bullet nestled in the pocket of his shirt. Resting against his heart while he drives. Hidden, when he returns home.

It’s insurance - but it would still crush you to find it.

“I’ll ease up when you do.” He counters, though his voice softens, “Pushing too hard, sweetheart. We could stand to eat less, if you need a break.”

You sigh, as you lean into him. Face muffled against his chest, and he only just catches the words.

“When I used to imagine playing house with you,” You breathe, “I always thought it would be a little different.”

It makes his heart jolt.

Something tearing inside him, as his mouth presses against yours. A hand searching to turn the handle - the water stale. A weak spray that only reaches room temperature.

But it’s enough.

You wash the red from him. Swirling down the drain as you coat the washcloth with a sliver of soap. Careful in your movements, as your hair dampens.

As his hands catch at your hips, looking for an anchor.

A little huff when you fingers twirl - when he has to let go, to turn around. Soaping up his back, fingers raking through his hair.

The stress of the day sluices from him. Melts away as your lips press against his back, trailing across his shoulders. Nails tracing against his abdomen, as he leans into your touch.

It’s always been softer than he deserved.

And when your hand drifts lower, swirling soap against the dark trail of hair that leads down, he guides your hand the rest of the way.

A throb, at the soft inhale of your breath. Fingers that close around him, coaxing him to full hardness. His own scrape against the tile, as he props himself up.

Eyes half-lidded, as you nuzzle against his scars. Fist working him from root to tip - he can’t resist bucking into your touch.

His own hand wandering. Hesitant.

Afraid he won’t find you the same.

Reaching behind him, feeling the stretch of healing muscle and sinew as he cups the curve of your ass. A held breath loosened, when he hears the needy sound you make, when his fingers slip to trace between.

Teasing, drifting down to where you’re slick. Honeyed.

Always for him. Only for him.

His eyes fully shut now, as his fingers work inside you. Feeling the clench, the way your hand stutters.

Your breathing turning harsh, panting. His name whined out as your hand dips to cup him - the pressure coiling low in his belly. Hips nudging against his as he pets at your clit, smearing your skin with your need.

Turning, when he isn’t able to take it any longer. Always would be strong enough to do this - to hitch your thigh around his hip.

Lifting you enough to rub his flushed cock against your folds. Your nails biting red marks into his shoulders as he lines himself up-

The water cuts off.

The evenings rations depleted.

Your laugh is more of a whine than anything, but it’s still a sound he treasures.

His own lips curving, and it feels like the first time in days.

The words rasps out, coated with need.

“Let me take you to bed, honey.”

His skin is still damp when he lays you down.

Nestling you against the pillows - ignoring your soft protests of needing to take care of him, as he seeks out the honey between your thigh. Hands tracing up your leg, calf to knee. Up against smooth skin, until he can hitch one over his shoulder.

Letting him bury himself deeper. Tonguing at your clit. Down to dip inside you, a rough groan against your skin as his hips rut into the mattress.

He had you close already. You always unfurled for him, and that hadn’t lessened with his age. Automatic, in the way his fingers fit inside you, finding the spot that has your back arching as you cry out.

Stroking against it again and again, a groan caught in his throat as your fingers twist into his hair and tug.

Logan’s name a soft cry as he tastes you sweeten against his tongue. The tight pulse around his fingers, echoing where his lips shift to suck against your clit.

It’s only when you reach for his wrist does he stop, content to spent the night right here if you’d let him - make up for the time spent away.

Only then does he relent. His arm stretching out behind the pillows as he finally lays back, the tug of a smile as he watches you.

There’s a sweetness about you - all limp-limbed as your thigh lifts across his waist. Straddling him, as you lean - tugging supplies out of the end table.

Squirming, as his head lifts - unable to help mouthing at your breasts. A heady throb down low when he can feel your heart kick up a notch.

Always doing things out of order.

Each shift of your hips rubs your pussy against his cock. Slick and wet and warm, and he catches the curve of your lips.

The slow rhythm, as you pack padding against his wounds. Affixing tape to his skin, a kiss placed against one - as if it would help them heal faster.

His look heated, and he knows you feel it too. The hitch of your hips. The pressure when you grind down - your eyes blown dark when you look at him from beneath your lashes.

He can give you what you need.

A grunt, as a hand grasps at your hips. The loose supplies slipping from his abdomen, as he coaxes you into your knees.

His other hand wrapping around the base of his cock, tilting his hard length up to rest against your belly.

“Need you.” It’s gritted out.

On another day he might have swallowed it down. Let you come to him.

But right now, he can’t take any more teasing, wrapped in your soft touch. He’s already resisting the urge to drive into you, as you angle him against your opening.

The slightest pressure, as you start to give around him - opening up. And when you finally sink down flush against him, he forgets himself.

It’s now and it’s six years ago - all those evenings spent, entwined.

Fitting together, watching the way your brow still pinches as your body makes room to take him - the stretch as your hands curl into fists against his chest.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” It slips from him, when your hips fully meet his.

It only makes you squeeze more tightly around him, his breath caught in a low rumble in his chest.

Your own admission, as you dip down to kiss him, “Missed you more.”

Finding himself transfixed, in spite of the weariness. The ache in his bones that are now a part of him are forgotten in the way you watch him.

Eyes half-lidded, as you find your balance. Starting a slow grind of your hips, a look thrown his way when you feel his muscles string tight beneath you.

The lightest pressure of your palms against his chest, careful of his wounds.

“Want to make you feel good.” It’s a command, tinged with permission. It’s woven with love, and the thought of taking matters into his own hands ebbs.

“Always do, sweetheart,” Logan husks, “Every fucking time.”

Letting himself settle back against the mattress. Losing himself in the tight grip of your pussy. Your soft curves, as his hands wander.

Squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, urging you to ride him harder. Slipping up to tease at your tits, an upward flex of his hips when you cry out his name.

You once told him that you wanted him the first moment you met him. Now, he wishes he had met you sooner.

A year. A day. Even a minute.

The thought pulses in his chest, in time with his heart. Fingers skating over skin as you ride him. A flash of white when he thumbs against your clit, giving you something to grind against.

You’re molten around him. Soft and sweet and it’s all he can do to match the way you bounce on his cock. Feet planting against the bed to help can meet you, urging himself just that little bit deeper.

Melting just a little bit further, when you can’t help but lean down - needing his mouth against yours.

Flattening yourself against his chest, as your rhythm goes needy. Sloppy grinds instead of the sharp slap, taking him deep and keeping him there.

His thumb swirls, and your ragged moan breaks the kiss. Head dipping as you lean back - hips chasing your pleasure, rocking into his familiar touch.

Can smell how much you need it. How you drip around his cock, the coarse hairs matted with your desire.

Teeth clenching, and it only makes him fuck to harder into you, to loosen your tongue.

“Logan, fuck-” It’s whimpered, in that pretty tone that he loves, “Think I’m gonna come-”

The leash he grasps onto slipping between his fingers. A low heat in his belly burning brighter, a pressure ticking down with each slap of his hips.

“Know you’re close. Let go, baby. So fucking good for me-”

Something rasped out, as you flutter around his cock. Taking him deep, spearing him into your belly.

“Fuck, I can feel you coming on my cock.” It comes out ragged, his breath catching, “Gonna make me come, too-”

Your gaze is dark. Hands pressing harder against his chest as you find yourself again, riding him harder. Panting through it, as it tips towards too much - your orgasm still burning brightly.

He's surrounded by you, and he only wants more. Fingers pinching into your hips, driving himself into you.

“Wanna make you come,” You breathe, “Want to feel you tomorrow-”

It’s enough that he forgets himself. A hands tight against your hip, a sharp tug that pulls you flush. The other curls around the back of your neck as he flips you beneath him.

Your gasping laugh pairs with his snarl. An arm hooking under your knee - pushing, opening you up as he holds you in place.

Watching how your eyes glaze. Following the tug of your fingers, bringing his mouth down to yours. Your pulse thundering beneath his thumb, as his tongue licks into your mouth.

He tastes like you, as his eyes slip shut. You linger on his lips, smeared across his beard. A ragged moan as your hips lift to meet the sharp smack-smack-smack of his hips, and then his vision is going hazy.

Your name snarled out, twining with soft sentiments. Hilting himself just as the pressure reaches its peak, his cock throbbing as he spills with a growl inside you.

The tension easing with each flex of his hips, fucking himself empty into your warmth. Into your embrace, your arms wrapping around and keeping him close. The scruff of his beard scrapes your cheek, but you only hitch a thigh around his hips - nudging him deeper.

Logan would stay here forever, buried in you, if he could. It slips from him, then - rasped low into your ear.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He should tell you more often. Would tell you every day, if not for the guilt that twists in his guts each time you say it back.

But tonight, he can only lean into it. The soft whisper, as your lips drag against his cheek. You say it just like you used to. It still comes just as easily.

“I love you too, Logan.”

And when his breathing settles and his eyes open - his chest catches.

You're adorned with your devotion - hair dotted with alyssum. Forget-me-nots and primrose dappled across your shoulders, yarrow and heather blooming around your curves.

Had learned the names of them, long ago. They come back, as his fingers trace over each bloom.

You’re beautiful.

But you always have been.

Prettiest goddamn thing he’s ever seen.

He bites harder, when he’s wounded.

No more than a cornered animal. But the anger - it takes a hold on him. Leaving him to soften, when there’s a hand he knows.

Making words slip from him that he’d tuck inside, on a different day.

“I do it for you, blossom.” It comes out quiet, in the darkened room, “You know that right?”

You shift against his shoulder. Head cradled against his chest, ear pressed to his heart.

“We do it for Charles,” You breathe, half-asleep. Fingers splaying across his sternum, tracing against the dark whorls of hair.

His own brush over petals. Used to help pluck them from you, after stolen moments during missions. Would love the way your face screwed up - a soft veil of embarrassment washing over you. His own lips pulled in a smug smile, as he had tucked one behind you ear.

Logan huffs, the sound low. Almost a laugh.

“I keep going for you.”

His heart would keep beating for a long time, but he thinks it would stop if yours did.

You press yourself tighter against him. It’s mumbled against his skin, “Keep going for you, too.”

There’s salt against his skin, tears you can’t afford to shed. Silent, as the stars creep higher in the sky above you.

Should be out driving, right now. Can’t bring himself to leave.

So he holds you, until your breathing slows. Until the tension eases once again, sleep taking you.

You never were afraid of him. Only for him.

Never hesitated to crawl into bed beside him, even with his nightmares. Can still remember your insisting.

Clip the stem of the flower, and the bloom will fade. Skewer it though, and it will grow around it - oozing golden ichor until it heals.

It's supposed to be a comfort.

But Logan doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s afraid that he plucked you from the earth, long ago.

You just haven’t realized it yet.

Logan finds you in the garden.

Charles is out with you today. Tucked beneath the afternoon shadows of the smelting plant. He would laugh - does laugh - at your excuse of a garden. It pales in comparison to the mansion. The old ivy that crawled up the walls, across the sprawling grounds.

You laugh with him, because - what else is there to be done?

The sound dies, as the limo comes back early. A hand shades your eyes, as he steps out.

Still weary, though not as much as yesterday. Worry set in the lines around his eyes the grit of his jaw.

The reason revealed, when he steps to the side. A girl, stumbling out of the back seat of the limo.

Her eyes are feral, and there’s something so familiar about her that it steals your breath.

“Crescere.” Charles breathes - more lucid than you’ve seen him in days, “That is Laura. She’s the mutant I told you about. The one we have to help get to Eden.”

And for a moment, he’s the Charles he was a decade ago. The one you would have followed to the end.

Something blooms in your chest, at the sight of the girl.

The mutant, when there hasn’t been a new one in so long. A tight knot unfurling inside you, and it feels like a new beginning.

It feels like hope.

and then they all left to find Eden together and nothing bad ever happened again! 😌💖 I'm heading back to Trouble Will Find Me and Come On And Show Me after this, just was struck with this idea and wanted to explore it! thanks so much for reading!!

[sonnetthebard]

Dan and Pamela dated in high school for a month or two and then she never got over him after they broke up :)

... Kale is that you? (person, not the character)

Yeah so Pamela is canonically obsessed with him

That's like a given

But yeah. They dated very briefly in high school

If you could even consider it dating

It was both of their first time dating

Let's be real, it was a very physical relationship

She was emotionally invested. He wasn't.

Dan has canonically shown that he knows how to put on a face

I mean look at Honey Queen and the way a switch flipped in him with the Cherry Festival

I mean we know Hatchetfield hates Clivesdale, but look at the delivery

Dan Reynolds is completely two-faced

And as most entertainers are, he's probably known how to network.

He used her to show the women at his school that he was a hot ticket item

As soon as he had them wanting him, he dropped Pamela.

She begged him to stay. Even told him she loved him

He retaliated by calling her trailer trash.

He is, in large part, why she is the way she is.

Outwardly, she may act like the attraction is entirely physical.

But inwardly... well, Lex isn't the only one wanting to run away with her "lover"

TW: Alcholism: She drinks to stop herself from remembering the emotional side of their relationship, so that she can just feel the physical attraction again

So yeah have that-

[empresskatariah]

me, shoveling the contents of a Superfood Veggie Bowl or w/e into my maw: “alright body, you’d better fuckin appreciate this and start giving us a half decent immune system”

my body, which has never done me a single favor in my entire life: “vegeble? VITANIMS?? idk... want SUGAR...”

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

I find it wild (in a good way) that while you're an 'is the animal cute blog' you literally never pull your punches when it comes to discourse.

I roll onto your blog and you're posting, back to back "Yes some types of owls will hunt cats. No I can't eat mealworms and kale and be ok, stop trying to convert me to veganism, I literally physically can't handle it. That's more of a question for is-the-chicken-video-cute I don't really know. Both Johnny Depp and Amber Heard sucked but what was worse was how the media handled the entire thing"

This is a compliment btw. I'm here for it.

As someone who has worked years in retail, public speaking to garner donations for conservation, and online PR for non-profits— this blog is very liberating because there are no stakes to saying something that may be disliked by unsavory but noisy groups. What are they going to do, boycott me? Tumblr doesn’t pay me a salary to run this blog. I have no idea how many followers I have and I simply do not care.

When I first started this blog I was non-controversial by habit, and not coincidentally when I looked at the people following me I found over a hundred TERFs and several more alt-right weirdos, don’t even ask how many pro-ships. I could have triple the following I do, but I intensionally make it known what my stances are now because I want the right people to feel safe and the wrong ones to know that I would not hit the brakes if they walked in front of my car.

I have to kiss up to bigots and creeps at work and hide my opinions because I don’t want one of them to come to my job and shoot up the place trying to hate crime me, but I am not going to sit idly and let cryptofascists spread their white supremacy nonsense on my posts on a blog I post to in my spare time. I care more about the lives of the marginalized and our ability to be safe in online spaces more than something as arbitrary as a follower count on tumblr, the one site that doesn’t even matter on.

If my bluntness and tendency to go off topic due to people wanting to start fights with me over something asinine makes my blog less interesting or palatable to some, that’s fine. I am still going speak my peace, for my own sake at least if no one else wants to hear.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

bright lights and baseless worries - q. hughes

When ya girl is finally on a monthlong break from school, she’s able to get in more than one piece a week. I knew I wanted to do some holiday piece for Quinn, and 100% got this idea in the shower the other day and just sat down and got to writing. In my totally unbiased opinion, it’s very cute, and I’d love to hear what you think - I love reading the tags on reblogs and having y’all in my inbox!

word count: 3.3k+

“Do you want to meet my parents?” 

Your fork stopped halfway to your mouth, the spaghetti threatening to fall off the end. “Do I want to what?”

Quinn laughed, taking a sip of water as he sat across from you at his dining room table. “Do you want to meet my parents? They’re flying in after the next roadie, in a week and a half or so. They really want to meet you, but I get if you don’t want to, or you feel like it’s too soon. I’ll make up an excuse for you, say you were called into work for some big project or something that you can’t get away from.” 

You weren’t sure if there was some unspoken protocol for when was too soon to meet your boyfriend’s parents, but you were pretty sure six months wasn’t pushing it. “Quinn, I’m still in university,” you said with a laugh. “There’s no work for me to get called into. And I’d love to meet them, if you’re sure that’s what you want. I don’t want you feeling like you have to because your parents want to meet me. I want it to be because you want it too.”

“Of course I want you to meet them,” he said, smiling softly at you. “Almost more than that, I want them to meet you. Sure, you’ve seen each other over FaceTime and they know what I’ve told them about you—”

“All good things, I hope?” You quipped.

The corner of his lips twitched. “Nothing but the best. But you’re incredible, and I want them to be able to meet  you, so they get to see how amazing you are in person and don’t think I’m crazy any more for how much I talk about you, So there’s that.” 

You ducked your head, tapping your fingers against the dark grain of the table. “Well, I’d love to meet them, Q. Anyone who’s spent any length of time around you knows how much you love your family, and I’m so excited to finally get to know the people who raised you into the incredible man you are today.”

Quinn blushed shyly. “It’s going to be great.”

---

Vancouver in December had always been one of your favorite things. Vancouver any time, really, but the holiday season really let your hometown shine something special. Literally. From the first of the month, all of downtown was decked out from tree to storefront to lamppost in yards of bright, sparkling lights. And then there was the massive, hundred-foot tall Christmas tree that lit up the square in front of the art gallery, throngs of couples and little kids running up to its branches in a bid to get their picture taken. It had finally started to snow a few weeks ago, so a light dusting covered the sidewalks, giving way to the shoe prints of the hundreds of passersby. 

Downtown was where you found yourself now, wandering around on a Wednesday afternoon after you had been let out of your final, your purse on your shoulder and nothing but sheer worry in your heart. Quinn had come back from the road trip that morning; his parents were set to fly in tomorrow morning. His parents were set to fly in tomorrow morning, well under 24 hours away, and you had no clue what to get them. You had been in clothing stores, homegoods stores, souvenir shops, but were no closer to figuring out what to buy. You had been about to buy a nice bottle of wine, one of yours and Quinn’s favorites, but then you wondered if maybe it was weird to give wine at a first meeting, or if they’d look at you funny for gifting a bottle of pinot grigio when you were only 21. And it had to be something they could bring back on the plane, so nothing that was too fragile or something that might spill or anything with over 3.4 ounces of liquid. You should have thought about that before considering the wine. 

You had texted your roommates in a panic, but letting them know that i’m meeting quinn’s parents tomorrow and I have no idea what the FUCK to get them please help hadn’t yielded any particularly useful suggestions. Aliya had suggested a tie for his dad, which Sara had vetoed immediately, saying that a tie was both far too formal and far too strange a gift to extend. Sara, who was the apartment’s resident caffeine addict, had recommended a few of her recent favorite types of “artisan, hand-roasted coffee.” It had seemed like a good idea at first, with everyone and their mother getting into craft versions of every drink imaginable, but then you started overthinking it, thinking that maybe they wouldn’t like the roast, or the undertones, or it would be too bitter and they’d drink it and hate it and then they’d hate you and — 

You huffed, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes and leaning up against the column of some storefront you had spent less than five minutes in. Quinn chose that exact moment to call, and his timing couldn’t have been any more welcome. “God, I’m such a mess right now,” you said by way of greeting. 

“Everything good?” He asked lightly, but you could hear the concern laced under his voice. 

“Yeah,” you said, nodding, “but I’ve been to at least a half-dozen stores in downtown and I’m starting to get worried because I still have absolutely no clue what to get your parents tomorrow and nobody seems to have any good ideas.”

“You realize you don’t have to get them anything, right?” Quinn asked. “Seriously, they’re not expecting it, and I promise they won’t think any less of you if you don’t.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Q, my mom’s going to skin me alive if she heard I showed up empty-handed to meet your parents, but that’s besides the point. I want to make a good impression.” Your voice cracked. “I really want to make a good impression.”

He sighed on the other end of the line. “I know you do, babe, but I guarantee that no matter if you buy my dad a Rolex or show up in your pyjamas, they’re going to love you.”

“But how do you know that?”

“They’ll love you because I love you.” He spent a few more minutes on the phone with you, trying his damndest to reassure you that Jim and Ellen weren’t nearly as scary as you somehow thought they were, that they’d welcome you with open hearts and open arms just like his brothers had. The Devils had played in Vancouver the month prior, and much to Quinn’s delight, you and Jack had gotten along like a house on fire. Jack had made good on a promise he had made while he was in British Columbia, sending you a cache of Quinn’s baby photos as soon as he got back to his apartment in New Jersey. 

You slid your phone back into your pocket after ending the call, feeling marginally more reassured that his parents wouldn’t immediately demand you break up with their son if you didn’t spend the equivalent of a year’s tuition on welcome gifts for them, but nervous nonetheless and no closer to your goal than when you drove into downtown hours before. 

---

You tapped your heel nervously on the floor of Quinn’s living room, fingers nervously twisting your rings around as Quinn leaned up against the couch, glancing between you and his phone. “Mom says they’re almost here.” Quinn would have picked them up from the airport himself, but he had had a morning practice, and then they decided to get settled into their hotel room, so them coming over to his apartment before you were all set to go out to dinner was the first time either of you were going to see them. He looked at you, your brow still furrowed from overthinking. “I know you’re still worried, and I get that, babe. I was terrified when I met your parents for the first time. But you’re going to do amazing.” Your parents lived in Surrey, forty minutes away in the same house you’d grown up in, so it was a much less formal affair when they had asked to meet Quinn. You went over to their house for brunch one weekend, and that was it; Quinn was right, though. That hadn’t meant he was any less nervous. If anything, it only amplified his worries because if he wasn’t able to make a good first impression in one of the most low-stress environments a person could think of, what would that say about him? What would your parents think? But just like he said, it had been such a non-issue that by the end, he was wondering what he had been worried about in the first place. 

“I know it’ll be fine,” you conceded, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “It just seems different, somehow. Like, I’ve met people’s parents before, friends and exes and people at school, and of course I wanted them to like me. I think it’s just…” You paused, looking up at the ceiling and trying to gather your words, “I think it’s because I see this, us, going somewhere. I see it lasting. So if you’re going to be in my life for the foreseeable future, then so are they, so it just seems that much more important that I like them and that they like me.” 

Quinn bent over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Don’t worry.” The doorbell rung, and you took the thirty seconds it took for Quinn to go over and open it to turn your phone on, checking in the camera to make sure you didn’t have a piece of kale stuck in your teeth. You didn’t, but you really should have known better. Quinn would have told you. 

You stood up, plastering a smile on your face as he pulled the door open and his parents stepped into the entryway. His dad had just hugged him when his mom pulled him in, rubbing his back as she greeted him. “So good to see you, Quinn, Chag sameach.”

“Chag sameach, Mom,” Quinn said back, before stepping back and nodding to you. You stepped forward hesitantly, Quinn’s warm hand on the small of your back quelling your fears as much as he could. 

He had barely opened his mouth to introduce you before his mom burst forward. “Is this her?” 

You relaxed slightly, nodding. “In the flesh. So nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Weinberg-Hughes.”

She waved you off. “Ellen, seriously. Don’t worry about it. It’s so nice to finally get to see you in person!” She pulled you into a hug that looked just as heartfelt as the one she had given her son, and it only took a few seconds for you to relax into her touch. 

“Jim,” his dad greeted you with a warm handshake. 

You turned back towards the coffee table. “I, uh, got these for you two when I was downtown the other day.” You handed his mom a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and his dad a potted succulent, something you originally hadn’t been too sure about but Quinn had assured you his dad would love. “It’s got a travel-safe box that came with it, so it’ll be good to go on the plane ride back,” you said. 

His dad smiled. “Quinn told you I’m not much of a green thumb, hm?” Quinn’s eyes widened; his dad laughed. “It’s true, I love plants but I seem to somehow kill everything I touch, so this really is a wonderful gift. Thank you.” 

“Did you light the candles yet?” His mom asked. 

Quinn shook his head, nodding to where his menorah sat on the sideboard. “I wanted to wait for you.” If his mom was going to be there for the first night of Hanukkah, he was going to wait for her if he valued his own well-being. The candles were already in a box off to the side; Ellen opened them and placed first the shamash, then the first candle all the way to the right as Quinn went into the kitchen for a lighter, coming out a second later. You made to move out of the room, unsure if it was disrespectful to stay. You got your answer quickly. 

“Stay,” Quinn said. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

“It’s part of the tradition that the whole family — whoever’s around, obviously, stays for the lighting. That’s you, now,” Ellen explained. Your cheeks burned, but not out of embarrassment. Out of the fact that Quinn had been exactly right, just like you knew he would be, just like he had told you he would be. His parents welcomed you quicker than your own best friend’s had, and five minutes after meeting them in person for the first time his mom had already all but called you family. You were giddy inside. You perched on the couch as she and Quinn recited the Hebrew blessings, a soft smile on your face as you watched the interaction. You knew your boyfriend loved his mom. That much was clear, from the times you were both on FaceTime to the phone conversations you overheard to the way that he spoke about her with Brock, or Elias, or really anyone who would listen. But it was something special. 

You gathered in the living room after the menorah was lit, your heels abandoned by the door and your body curled into Quinn’s as the four of you waited for the candles to burn down. Ellen and Jim supplemented Jack’s childhood stories of Quinn with some of their own, one of which had your boyfriend groaning into your shoulder, asking his dad if you really needed to know that story in particular. Jim just laughed, clapping his son on the back, telling him that the embarrassing anecdotes were really a litmus test of sorts. “If she doesn’t run after hearing this one, you’ll know that she’s a keeper,” he said while winking at you. You stayed. 

You had a 6:30 reservation at a restaurant downtown, some place one of the other guys’ girlfriends had recommended when you sent a message in the group chat earlier asking where to take Quinn’s parents because I def don’t want to seem pretentious but like they also need to know that I have taste. He drove with his dad in the passenger’s seat, leaving you and his mom to share the second row. “Have you ever seen his freshman year roster photo from Michigan?” she asked, pulling out her phone. 

Quinn groaned from the driver’s seat. “Mom, do you really need to show her?”

“You’re so young, it’s cute!” Ellen protested.

“I was 17 and didn’t know how to do my hair yet and was so nervous for the photographer to take it that my smile looks like it was frozen onto my face.”

You ducked your head, poorly concealing a snort of laughter. “Okay, if it’s half as good as Quinn makes it seem, I’ve got to see this one.” Ellen handed her phone to you just as Quinn pulled into the parking lot; you handed it back a minute later, the grin on your face still evident as he parked the car, walking around to your side to open your door. 

Picture didn’t scare you off?” he asked jokingly. 

You stood up quickly, pressing a brief kiss against his cheek. “Not at all.”

The food was incredible, not like you had expected any less. The salmon was maybe the best you had ever had, and the crème brûlée you and Quinn shared was nothing short of spectacular. You had left the last bite for him, knowing how much he loved the dessert, but he shook his head with a small smile, gently pushing the bowl back to you. The gesture hadn’t been missed by his mom, who had poorly concealed her happiness at her son’s kindness. You headed back to Quinn’s apartment after a walk by the harbor with his parents, a little after nine. “We got you two a little something,” his dad said as his mom reached into her purse. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said quickly as Ellen pulled out a small, flat wrapped package.

“It’s nothing big,” she promised. “Just something we thought would look nice in here,” she gestured around the living room with her spare hand., holding it out to you. “Happy Hanukkah.”

Your face burst into a grin as Quinn looked over at the photo, his thumb moving absentmindedly over your shoulder. “Happy Hanukkah, Ellen.” You ran your thumb carefully under the seams, popping open the paper with as much precision as the moment was affording you. You unfolded it, looking up at your boyfriend. “Hang on. Is this…?” 

He nodded. “I think so.” You were looking down at a picture, set in a silver frame that shone so much you could see your reflection. But it wasn’t a normal picture, one that you’d throw up on your Instagram story or delete from your camera roll without a second thought. It was from that September, a few months after you and Quinn had started dating and the first time he had taken you to meet the boys. You had already met Brock and Elias a few weeks earlier when they came back into town for training, but it was the first night he had really let you into his life in that way, started to take down some of his walls and trust you with every part of himself. You had been curled up with Quinn on a couch in Brock’s living room, towards the end of a party he had thrown to welcome everyone to the start of a new season. You didn’t even remember what Quinn was talking about, but as you looked down at the photo, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist and your head resting on his chest, you realized that it could have been Poptarts or Disney movies or the deepest darkest secrets from the furthest parts of your soul, because it was you, and it was him, and that’s all that mattered. You didn’t even realize you had started to tear up until Quinn handed you a tissue. “Thanks,” you mumbled. You looked back up at his parents, crumbling it in your hand. “Seriously, Jim, Ellen, thank you for this. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this, but thank you for getting it. It means a lot.” 

His dad gave you a hug as his mom moved over to Quinn’s kitchen, plucking her bouquet out of a vase and walking back over to hug first her son, then you. “Don’t worry about it. If you’re half the woman Quinn says you are, and I think you’re more, then you deserve the world.” 

Your cheeks heated as they walked through the front door. Quinn gently took the picture from you, admiring it as he padded over to the sideboard and placed it next to the menorah, whose candles had long since burnt down. He walked back over towards you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He pulled back, a wry smile on his face as your foreheads pressed together. “Do you finally believe me?”

He didn’t even have to explain his words, because you knew. Finally believe him that you didn’t have anything to worry about, finally believe him that his parents would love you, finally believe him that thing you had going on wasn’t one he wanted to give up on. Not now, not ever. Your head nodded before your words could catch up to you, spilling out of your mouth like they had always been there. “Yes.”

[leafcabbage]

were no strangers to love u know the rules and so do i a full commitments what im rhinking of you woyldnt get this from any other guy ii just wanna tell u how im feeling gotta make u understand never gonna give u up never gonna let u down never gonna run around and desert u never gonna make u cry never gonna say goodbue never gonna tell a lie and hurt you weve known each other for so long your hearts been achin but ur too sht to say it inside we both k no w whats been going on we know the game and were gonna play it and if u ask me how in feeling do t tell me ur to blind to see never gonna give u up never gonna let u down never gonna run around and desert u never gonna make u cry never gonna say goodbye neber gonna tell a lie and hurt youu never gonna give u up never gonna let u down never gnna run around and deesert u never gonna make u cry never gonna say goodbye never gonna tell a lie and hurt u never gonna give never gonna give give u up never gonna give bever gonna give give u up weve known each other for so long your hearts been achin but ur too shy to say it inside we both kno whats been going on we know the game and were gonna play itttt iii just wanna tell u how im feeling gotta make u understant never gonna give u up never gonna let u down never gonna eun arounfmd and desery u never gonna make u cry never gonna say goodbye never gonna tell a lie and hurt you (song begins to fade) never gonna give u up never gonna let u down never gonna run arou d and desert u never gonna make u cry never gonna say goodbye never gonna tell a lie and hurt u (song is almost conpletely faded out by this point) never gonna give u yp never gonna let u down never gonn run atound and (song fades completely)

dear starryy,

i hate this and, to some extent, you.

still, im using this ask to communicate with you because you dont have asks. what are you? like, what are you. what are you?? what?? what are you? i look at you and go- well now that's a nice little dude. but what? what is this little dude? what are you? what are you.

thank you for your time! regards, arugula kale "cabbage" leafcabbage III student government assistant office hours: 24/7 leafcabbagecabbageleaf@gmail.com professional fanfictioner

[accursedkaleeshi]

Blys’aan’s Bio (Wife #7)

TL:DR 2 Members of the Izvoshra bully Grievous into another marriage to the captain of imports of the largest trade organization on Kalee. Blys’aan was successful PR for them & was an angel with a soup ladle. Died 27 BBY due to scarcity of medical resources.

Part 1: Meeting I wrote over 1000 words, there’s a lot of dialogue, its like a lazy fanfic.

Part 2: About Her

First of all, I finally gave Western Wuja Bandit Izvoshra a name. It is Dakaliidae, as Western male names tend to be a ton syllables. Yes his name is Doc Holliday: it’s funny & topical, fight me about it. Anyway, I told you this because he is instrumental in meeting Blys’aan.

So, whilst Grievous was doing Ked’jat (the crackhead friend, if you’ll recall) a solid by meeting his aristocratic family, Ked’jat & Dakaliidae got together to try & be responsible members of society by helping Grievous out. They got him an audience with the council of the largest native trading organization on planet, aptly called Hakaleel. This surprised Grievous because Ked’jat & Daka were literally the two least law-abiding Kaleesh he knew. They must have been on their best behavior to get a meeting with an esteemed legitimate business council. He was not without his suspicions.

Hakaleel was already well aware of the planetary embargoes they were facing. Their High Trade Chief, Yaitee (ee-eye-tee) was present at the meeting Grievous had at the capital with Bryaru’s father. So, the Hakaleel trade council was pretty much in various states of the stages of grief. Hakaleel had an excellent local reputation; Kaleeshi people were not keen on material greed as a trait. The trade council were legitimately thinking of the economic impact on the people. The fact that they were themselves facing down poverty was just a bonus.

Yaitee, in a delicate manner, admits to being almost completely locked out of all nearby extraplanetary trade routes by Republic ban on official registered vessels in their system’s airspace & exorbitant fees otherwise in a currency they scarcely even had any access to. They had been combing over the documentations the Republic was gracious enough to provide them & came to much the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything they could legally do about it. After this admission there was a long heavy pause after which Grievous replied, “What about illegally?”

He had known Yaitee to be a very keen & straight-laced man. He could see his lips purse beneath the edges of his mask. Desperation does much to test a person’s image of themselves. Yaitee said, “Let us see what input our Captain of Imports has on the matter.” Grievous could almost feel the energy of Ked’jat & Daka doing their best to maintain their composure. Yaitee & his scribe led the three of them down to their spaceport. It was not on the scale of anything in the core worlds by any means but it used to be quite busy just a year before. The fact that Grievous had expanded his crusade against the Huk to the neighboring systems actually did a lot to improve relations & they had seen more traffic than usual despite the Yam’rii.

Now it was very quiet. In what looked to be a sort of central gate there was a stocky, medium height Kaleesh woman of day gecko colors standing in front of an equally colorful display of spices. She was looking forlornly at an old datapad from behind her hunt veil before Yaitee introduced her as Captain Blys’aan of Hakaleel Imports.

Grievous was like, “I hate to ask, Captain Blys’aan, but how are things.”

To which Blys’aan, in this warm mix of Caribbean & local Slavic space-adjacent accents, replied, “BOY lemme tell you. Is grim! So grim! Precious few of our off vendors want to pay the fees for reaching us out here on the edge of wild space & not ONE of them are willing to defy the Republic openly. Can’t blame most of them. We can’t afford to regularly offset the fees with oh- anything on our planet.”

Grievous was just like, “Yeah I thought as much.”

“Does the Great Khaganate General Grievous have any enlightenment for us today?” Blys’aan asked sarcastically. Not because she didn’t respect him, but because the situation was that dire.

Grievous deadpan replies, “How do you feel about pirates.”

“Oooh boi, I knew I was going to like you. Guess what, I already have a few in contact,” Blys’aan reacted very excited.

Yaitee was like, “Blys’aan what the fuck.”

But she just lays it out like, “Lissen Yaitee, sweetie, da core worlds want civilized societies. But when we try to advance? No. We should have done that already. We don’ warrant de resources.”

“Yaitee, you hire some tough sons to protect my inventory managers & you deal wit dese pirates. T’ings have to change with or witout us. You are best on Kalee at wheelin & dealin. If anybody try to throw us down river? De General will kill them. Won’t you, big boy?” She tapped his chest with the back of her hand like she was indicating quality stock.

With absolutely zero hesitation Grievous goes, “Yeah, I will. The Republic is not a popular as they like to think. You will find people willing to work.”

Blys’aan says, “I t’ink I’m gonna step down. Hakaleel doesn’t need my brand o customer service anymore. Everytin gonna work out. Or maybe no. I hope I get myself a husband before I get killed by pirates…”

It was at this point the Ked’jat & Dakaliidae can no longer contain themselves & go full gremlin mode. “Grievous is taking wives.” Ked’jat says. “Yeah, he is available.” Daka follows.

Grievous is just like, “I’m- I literally have- you just set me up with your sister-”

Blys’aan again gets very jubilant. “Oooh. You have a hard limit on that number? My pedigree maybe not so shiny as others but I can cook better than your hearth mothers, I bet this.”

Daka interjects, “Also. you came down here to denounce legally binding documents from the Grand Army of the Republic & she was already one step ahead of you.”

“That is true. I am impressed,” Grievous admired only to immediately regret it when Ked’jat says to her, “Oho, hear that? He’s impressed, bima-” Grievous is just stone faced wondering what is wrong with these two.

“Or. I could stay in my position & be killed by pirates,” Blys’aan says with a very overexaggerated sigh.

Daka grabs one of Grievous’s shoulders, really pouring it on thick like, “Ah, General, what if she is killed by pirates? So sad.”

Blys’aan gives Grievous big sad green puppy dog eyes. There is half a minute of silence.

“Very well, you can accompany me home & we’ll see how it goes,” Grievous relents. Ked’jat is like furiously giving her a thumbs up from behind Grievous, mouthing dumb shit like, “Girl that means yes!”

[heaux-burrow]

For the fanfiction writers ask: 16, 21, 34

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

• Smol x Tol is a requirement not a request

• Arranged marriage AU queen 👑

• No one else challenges me mentally or physically but you

• Bodyguard AU’s (bonus points if her parents are never around and she’s a Poor Little Rich Girl™️)

• We meet in our dreams AU

• Somehow I keep falling into another plane or realm and you only exist there and “we” only exist there and slowly I start to spend all my time and energy on being with you and completely losing my whole life in the “real world”

• Captive/Captor AU’s (think Briseis and Achilles but I’m not above a good old fashioned bank robbery gone tits up I’m an equal opportunity slut for Stockholm Syndrome)

• We had a past life together and we only remember flashes but the energy is still there between us and it’s undeniable - however, being together would completely dismantle our present day lives

• This can’t last and it’s not meant to, but I’ve been through a lot and you’re a very nice resting place for now

• I’m a brat, but vulnerable only with you. You’re an asshole, but soft only with me. I don’t hate anyone else but you. But I don’t love anyone else either.

• We’ve both been through trauma no one else understands so we don’t really know how to trust or love anyone else, but no one would ever be accepting of us being together (yes I meant to google Lucrezia and Cesare Borgia)

• Honestly, anything where the shtick is ‘we’re really not supposed to be doing this’ bonus points for sneaking around and loads of pining angst about it

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

I’m about to lose so many followers 🙈

#1 always - AEGON THE CONQUERER X RHAENYS TARGARYEN (ASOIAF)

Max x Audrey (Gossip Girl)

Sarah Cameron & Rafe Cameron (OBX) (yes I know they’re related no I don’t care)

Ciri x Geralt (The Witcher, more the video games and the books than the tv show)

Javier Peña (Narcos) x Helena (Narcos) x Santiago Garcia (Triple Frontier)

Robb x Sansa or Jon x Sansa or Robb x Jon x Sansa (ASOIAF) (who is GoT don’t know her)

Sookie Stackhouse x Jason Stackhouse (True Blood) (watch the first episode again and tell me I’m wrong lol)

Eric x Four (Divergent) (books not the movieverse)

Becca x Lucas (Banshee)

Cassie x Nate (Euphoria) (yes I know it wouldn’t work leave me alone) (all I’m saying is, Nate spent a lot of fucking energy trying to get McKay to NOT date Cassie and Nate would never have made Cassie get an abortion)

Mal x Evie (Descendants)

Elsa x Kristoff (Frozen)

Tink x Hook (Peter Pan universe - more the books than any of the movies) (in the second Peter Pan book she is literally lost to the group and found locked up in the captain’s quarters among Hook’s treasure on his ship don’t come for me Barrie shipped it too)

Freya x Freyr or Freya x Fenrir (Norse mythology)

Morgan x Arthur (Arthurian legend)

Lucifer x Eve or Lucifer x Lilith (biblical mythology NO I’m not talking about Lucifer the show lol I’ve never even watched it and I won’t)

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

From “Through the Lake”, a Grishaverse fic I wrote 5 years ago but never posted (Darkling x OFC)

They’ve begun travelling now. He likes to stay diplomatically relevant. Likes to be known to the kings and queens of lands beyond Ravka. Because the otkazat’sya Lantsov king is weak and stupid. She knows. She’s met him many times. And she met his father before him. She’s dined with their ambassadors and danced with their advisors (Shadow likes to show her off as his little relic. His little stolen child, kept as a pet the same way fairies of old would keep children from her world. It is also a very clear piece on the chess board. Look what I have. Look what she can do. Know your place).

“Lantsov is lucky anyone even continues to acknowledge him as king. If I were a queen, the only diplomat I would sit down with is you.” She’s known her Shadow a hundred years now. She cannot fathom why anyone still bows to the Lantsov king.

“Do I not treat you with all the adoration and reverence due a queen?” He asks in response, ignoring her statement for the moment. Though it strokes something warm and needy inside him to hear her say it.

They’re in Kerch. A disgustingly wealthy merchant’s villa is their home for the night. At his table they dined on sweet-buttered grouse and roasted kale and salted caramel cake.

The back of his ungloved finger traces her neck as she takes her jewelry off and lets her hair down. The touch flares her power with a shivering thrill of electricity. Unable to help herself, Jo flexes her abilities enough to let him know not to push her. The air in the room compresses for a moment until all sound is narrowed down, resting on the pin of a needle and ringing in his ears. Thirty seconds go by. Finally, she lets up and he has to grip the window sill as his lungs drag desperately for oxygen.

“What?” He half snarls, half chokes. Jo is shown more favor than anyone else at his court by far. He’s never lavished another with the same attention and devotion he pours over her. He’s never trusted anyone enough to allow them so close. But he’s careful to keep her loyalties where they belong. Uses her power to keep the other Grisha in check. To keep their eyes fixed with jealousy so they’ll never look upon her with love. So she has no other confessional but him. So she can never hold anything she knows to his throat. Even if she thought to overthrow him and seize power for herself, they would never follow her. They’d wear her bones first.

“You know what. Do not dare to play the victim with me.” They argue as if they’re married. And maybe in a way they are. Promises forever unbroken. Loyalty carried to the grave. Secrets pressed between them for centuries, that no one else could ever unfold.

Swallowing, he swipes away the blood dripping from his nose with the handkerchief in his pocket. Glances out the window, partly guilty and partly annoyed that the girl can even make him feel guilt.

“You know why I can’t let you stay.” They’ve been over this a hundred thousand times. He won’t have her for one lifetime when he needs her power for much longer than that. And perhaps, a part of him needs her to be hungry for him. To know she’s in Duluth salivating at the mouth to get back here. Perhaps he’s scared that if he gives her all she wants of him, of Ravka, she’ll have her fill and go back for good.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

Feysand prompt: "Is it so wrong for me to want you?" Please💜

note: I'm terrified 'cause this is my first time writing feysand. let me know what you think. here's the masterlist if you'd like to check out my other works.

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

Feyre was done letting other people think they knew what was best for her. She decided what she deserved, what she could handle and what she should or shouldn't be involved in. How dare he think she would leave him all alone here in a den of vultures and flee for her own safety? She wouldn't.

She marched out of her car towards the discreet warehouse, the two guards standing outside already moving to stop her. They were on orders from Rhysand to not let her in on any cost, Mor had confessed. It was so like Rhysand to try to protect her and everyone else and make himself a scapegoat. She was done letting him think he was bad for her. If he was bad for her, she didn't care. She liked bad.

When the guards moved in front of the door, she growled, "Don't stop me. I'll break your hands, then break your face." She'd never talked to someone like that before. She didn't care.

Even more pissed now, Feyre pushed through the warehouse doors and into the tastefully decorated living room. On any other day, she'd find him sitting here. Feyre wondered what he was doing now that he'd broken up with her. Was he going about his day like usual with that damned poker face on? Had he already found someone else to replace her with? She hated him for trying to keep her away from him as if that was for her own good.

It wasn't for her good.

She didn't find him there but she did find Cassian staring at the television. His eyes widened when he saw her, "You shouldn't be here."

Feyre ignored him. "Where is he?"

"It was for your own good, trust me."

"You of all people should've known that wasn't for my own good." The anger was melting away now, turning into sadness as she remembered the previous morning when he'd dropped her off at home. We shouldn't see each other again, he had said. She had been too stunned to protest but she would raise hells for it now. Tears pricked at her eyes as Feyre climbed up the stairs and burst into his bedroom.

He sat on his bed, head buried in his hands. His body shook with sobs.

He looked up when she entered, voice quiet and disbelieving. "Feyre?" As if he couldn't believe she was here. If she was being honest, she couldn't either. She hadn't known how unwilling she had been to lose him until the morning before when she had lost him and realised there was little she won't give up to have that back—to have him back.

Feyre took a deep breath. "Rhysand." She'd planned a whole speech but words failed her now.

He looked up, eyes red rimmed and dark hair mussed out. That face. She thought she'd never be able to see it again. Seeing his own condition strengthened her decision. She let her wrath show in her face. "You absolute asshole, you broke up with me! To what? Protect me? God, you're so dumb." When he opened his mouth to say something, she held up a hand to shut him up. "No, you shut up. You've said your piece. Now, it's my turn to talk." Dutifully, he shut his mouth, rising from his bed.

Feyre shoved him in the chest. "You think you're so bad for me! Dumbass! Idiot! I'm not leaving you. Maybe you're bad for me, maybe you want me to have a normal life but I don't want that life," her voice cracked. Tears flooded down her face. She hated it. "Not when it means you won't be in it. I love you, Rhys—" she had never told him that before—"I know what I signed up for when I started dating you. I chose to stay and I stand by it."

Rhysand walked up to her, gently wiping the tears on her face. "I'm sorry I'm an asshole and an idiot and what was that—a dumbass, right? I'm terrible for you. Completely terrible."

She rested her head on his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. Her voice was muffled as she said, "Is it so wrong for me to want you? It doesn't feel wrong at all."

Rhysand was silent long enough that she was sure he'd say nothing but when he looked up, there was hope shining in his eyes. Hope—and something else. Pure adoration shone in his gaze when he said, "This is probably the worst decision I've ever made but Feyre darling, I love you too." She didn't know why he kept saying this was wrong because right now, nothing felt more right.

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

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[stardewspellshed]

Bad Birthday Bouquet: A Stardew-based Techno Magic Curse

There's a guy I've known for years who's notorious for being a terrible person by... everybody I know who isn't terrible in their own right, honestly. There's a mile long list of reasons why he got to eat this curse, but the relevant one is that he's been mistreating a bunch of people and this is unfortunately not the first time this has happened.

And so when I'm out of all other options, I go for a curse. This one has worked swimmingly. This is a freakishly long post so it's under a cut for once.

What you need:

Some knowledge of energy work and poppets-- if you're unfamiliar these are pretty common concepts and there's many resources that can explain them to you.

Six Wilted Bouquets (Substitute with something else gross if you can't buy bouquets from Pierre's yet. Any hated item works. Void Mayonnaise or Rotten Plants would be my pick but your mileage may vary.)

Six tables for your bouquet (end tables work best)

Something to play Happy Birthday with

At least one light source that can be manually turned on and off by the player (like braziers, campfires, or fireplaces.)

A villager to represent your target-- you're going to be giving this villager the nasty thing!

(Optional) crops, fish, fruits, gems, artifacts, or other items with correspondences that match your intentions-- I picked kale for bitterness and catfish for drowning in his own negativity, but your items will vary depending on your desired results and personal associations.

(Optional) a notepad, paper, and writing utensil in a color you associate with cursing if you can't do or are just not great with visualization.

Timing

Cast on your target's birthday in real time, on the target's representative villager's birthday in game, or Fall 28 in-game. A waning crescent moon or total lunar eclipse in real time would probably also work in a pinch.

Pre-Spell Prep Work

Prepare your Bouquets by tossing them in a furnace with a piece of coal, or if you're using something else instead, craft that if you need to.

Also, if you aren't using Wilted Bouquets, you might want to do a bit of research to make sure they actually hate the nasty thing you plan on using since it's kinda missing the point to give Snails to Vincent or a Void Egg to Sebastian haha. I recommend using the Stardew Valley wiki (though friendly reminder not to do that if potential spoilers for patch 1.5 bother you since that JUST came out on console at the time I'm writing this) to check their hates. As an added bonus if you're like me and the kind of person who hates the thought of losing friendship points, this is a great opportunity to check what they love so you can stock up on stuff to fix it when you're done with the spell.

After that, pick a villager to represent your target. (I have a whole thing with suggestions for how to do that here if you're at a loss for who to pick.) I picked Penny to represent my target because other than the part where he's a heinous shitgibbon they've got very similar values, interests, and goals.

Setting Up The Spell

If you have a specific pre-casting routine (whether that's grounding, centering, meditation, warding, casting a circle, calling on deities or spirits for help, etc.), take care of that now.

Put down your light source inside a farm building then arrange the tables around them in a shape you feel is fitting-- I chose as close to a circle as I could get because that's the shape I most associate with birthday cakes. Leave space for one bouquet in the center or between your light sources, and if you're using extra ingredients set those up too. I felt it was best to set them up directly next to the bouquet in the middle, but that will probably vary depending on you.

Casting the spell

Turn your light on, then take a strand of energy and visualize it anchoring itself inside the thing to start things off. Play Happy Birthday while you bring the energy through all of the other items. Stop at each of the other bouquets, and say/think a reason why this person is getting cursed at each. If you don't have five reasons, something like "your behavior is messed up and you need to stop" or similar works.

Bring your energy through your correspondence items and for each, say/think, "for your birthday, in return for <insert the last straw that made you decide to do this here>, I give you <insert the intention this item is being used for here>."

End on the one you're going to give and say/think something summing up everything you've already said and making it very clear why you're putting this on them.

I said "<target's full name>, I'm really just sick of your shit. You are bigoted on so many different levels, two-faced, treat anyone you think is less than you like trash, have an enormous entitlement complex, and <something he did to one of my friends that they would like to keep private>. My birthday wish for you is that you get your head out of your ass. Apologize for your crappy behavior and stop doing it, or drown in misery and realizing how small of a person you actually are. Happy birthday!"

Let it stew as long as you feel appropriate, then figuratively blow out the candle by turning off your light source.

(If you struggle with visualization, plot out your layout on a piece of paper-- it doesn't need to be incredibly detailed if you don't want it to be, a bunch of Xes in a square will work.

Focus on your intent and emotions like discussed above, but do it while looking at the item you're going to give to your villager. While doing that, draw a line at the mark representing your light, and speak it into existence-- keep focusing on your emotions and intent and describe it connecting into the light source whether by speaking out loud or thinking it. Draw your line going through all of the other items while describing your energy the same way, stop on the other bouquets and correspondence items as described above, and end on the one you're going to give to your target just like you would otherwise. )

Deliver those nastyass flowers to your villager, then end the day. You are done!

Post Spell Procedure

I like to get a snack, stretch, and watch something silly to make me laugh and shake off any residual anger or sorrow from spells like this.

I also like to turn off my Switch and sound cleanse my whole space since I have a bell. I'd strongly recommend doing some kind of cleansing even if you don't sound cleanse.

(Note: ribbon dividers are not mine, I found them here. Please let me know if you know who actually created them!!)

[lemonlushff-iy]

I'm just her to say that I'm happy to see you back but I hope you had the time to yourself that you needed! I love your writing and your fics!

Thanks Anon!!

I really needed it, tbh. There was just a lot of stuff that built up, and it got bad. I haven't had to fight dark like this since Feb of this year, but removing myself from the community so I wouldn't spread what I was feeling was one of the best decisions I could have made.

I also started working on a throw-away fic that I’ll probably come back to whenever I need to. What I was dealing with was too much for even OLR to fix this time...

So instead, I did this:

“Picking up for Kagome Higurashi.”

He smiled at her, taking the ticket she handed him. Kagome Higurashi - goddess supreme. Long, black, wavy hair. Stunning blue eyes he wanted to get lost in. A body he didn’t think he’d ever stop worshiping if she let him. 

He had watched her from afar for years. They were both in business school, and a lot of their classes had overlapped throughout the years. 

He, of course, was on the IT track, which was why he was working here. At the university’s student help center. It paid good money for a university job. 

She was on the accounting track. Brains and beauty. 

This woman was the full package. 

Shame she had never noticed him, except for when she came to drop off her computer. 

“Virus, right?” he asked, glancing down at her ticket. Not that he didn’t already know which PC was hers. It was a little on the old side. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it, and frankly, he didn’t know how she could. It was a bitch to work with. 

“Yeah,” she replied, her brows raising in surprise. “It didn’t give you too much trouble, did it?”

“Oh...No...Not at all,” he smiled before slipping into the back. 

No. 

It hadn’t given him any issues at all. In fact...it worked perfectly. Or at least he thought it did. Tonight would be the real test. 

He grabbed the pink laptop from the back, the one covered in flowery stickers, and brought it back out to her. 

“Here she is,” he smiled proudly. “Just need you to sign for it. Let me print out the paperwork for you.”

“Perfect, thank you so much!” she beamed, and his heart skipped a beat. 

“It was my pleasure,” he cooed, his smile slipping off his face as the door opened. His half-demon co-worker walked in, and he watched as Kagome’s eyes were instantly drawn to him. The brute was a jock, and had a way with all the ladies, yet when he saw Kagome, he paused. Really paused to look at her. 

“Oh so you’re the one with the pink laptop.”

“Y-yeah. Kagome Higurashi,” she smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Do you work here too?”

“Sure do - Inuyasha Takahashi,” he grinned back, extending a hand. “I should have known that the woman coming in for it would be even cuter than the computer.”

God. How did women fall for this shit?

“Inuyasha, huh? Interesting name.”

“My parents were very creative. My friends call me Yash...but you can call me whatever you want, so long as you call me.”

He wanted to vomit. It wasn’t even subtle. They were already practically eye-fucking. It made him sick. 

Inuyasha reached behind the desk and pulled out a card, writing his number on it. 

“Feel free to reach out if your computer gives you any more trouble,” he grinned, handing it to her, and she pulled out her phone to slid it into the back of her case. 

“You’re making me wish I got viruses more often. Won’t you get in trouble for having someone contact you personally?”

“Nah. I help my friends off the clock all the time.”

“So, I’m your friend, huh? We just met.”

“Maybe. But I’d like to get to know you a whole lot better.”

She was falling for this shit. Hook line and sinker. 

God - Kagome, your taste in men...it’s appalling. Lacking, really. I mean you see a man with rippling muscles and you’re putty in his hands. You need a man with substance. A man who can understand you on a much deeper level. 

She glanced down at the perfectly pedicured toes poking out of her wedges, and back up at him, coyly biting her lip. Like she didn’t know that drove men wild. Like Inuyasha wasn’t about to pop an erection just looking at her do that. Imagining what those lips would feel like around his cock. 

Hell, she wasn’t even talking to him anymore and he was already wondering that same damn thing. 

“Sorry to interrupt.”

No. He wasn’t.

“I have your papers ready, if you could go ahead and sign?”

“Oh! Yeah. Sorry,” she replied sheepishly, taking the pen he offered her and hastily scribbling her name onto the paper, trying her damnedest to not look back at that fucking jock. “Here you go!”

“Thanks,” he smiled, taking the paper from her. His fingers brushed against hers, but she didn’t even notice. Not when she was still acutely focused on Inuyasha. 

“Thank you. Both of you,” she replied, tucking her hair back behind her ear. It was so endearing. 

“Our pleasure.”

Ass. Like he had even worked on the computer. Inuyasha wouldn’t even be able to tell her what version of Windows she had installed. Not that he would have allowed Inuyasha to anyways. He needed him to stay as far away from it as he could get. 

“I’ll see you around,” she blushed, tucking her computer into her oversized bag before scurrying off. 

“I hate to see her go...but with an ass like that I sure do like watching her walk away…”

Cute. Real cute, Inuyasha. 

He placed his hands on the counter and hopped over it, picking up the landline phone to quickly clock in. 

“Her computer give you any issues?”

“Nope. Easy breezy.”

“Cool,” he nodded, pulling up a chair. “Kagome Higurashi, huh?” he mused, pulling out his phone. 

Already looking her up on Facebook. 

Not a good sign. 

“Hey, we got three more computers in while you were gone, if you want to get started on them.”

“Yeah - in a minute. I’ve got all night, remember,” he smiled wryly. 

He wasn’t going to deter him, was he.

“There she is,” he mumbled. “Damn. Privet account.”

Yes. Yes it was. It was a good thing he was too stupid to think about creating a fake profile and friending her that way. Like he had. 

Kagome, you sweet beautiful woman...You’re far too trusting for your own good…

“Shame.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “She was really cute. Hey...do me a favor. Next time she comes in, can you let me work on her computer?”

Oh Inuyasha...There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m letting you do that. 

“What makes you so sure she’s gonna come back in?”

“You’re the one who fixed it,” he teased, just as his phone chimed with a text. “Oh fuck yeah!”

He could feel his heart jump into his throat. No way. There was no way she--

“--She texted me,” he grinned cockily. “It’s all coming together my friend,” he smirked, patting his shoulder blade. He had to keep himself from shrugging off the mongrel’s touch. “I’ll get started on those computers.”

He nodded and gathered his things before clocking out, watching as Inuyasha stood and slowly walked to the storage room in the back, eagerly typing away on his phone. 

One text meant nothing. 

But Kagome...Your judgment is really impaired if you think he is a good choice for you. 

***

When he got back to his apartment, he threw his backpack down on the couch and quickly warmed up a bowl of instant noodles. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now, and it was fast. 

Fast was good. Fast allowed him to turn on his computer and see if his virus was working. 

He quickly typed away, launching the necessary programs, and within moments he was silently giving himself a high five. 

He deserved a beer for this performance. Maybe more. 

There she was. Kagome Higurashi in all her glory, laying on her bed, casually browsing the internet. She had no fucking idea he was watching her too. She was too innocent to keep a little cover over her camera. Her computer was too old to tell her that someone was hacking her video. Thank god for PCs. 

It would have been so much harder with a mac. 

And Kagome...Don’t think that when you’re mine, we aren’t going to fix this little issue of yours. It will be one of the first things we do. I’ll insist upon it. We can’t have other men watching you like this, now can we?

This is a show for me and me alone, after all. 

He heard her phone chime, and she hastily picked it up, glancing down at the screen. He wanted to know what it said, but given the way she giggled and bit her lip, rolling onto her back…

It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to assume that it was Inuyasha. He watched as she placed the phone down on the bed beside her, only the top of her face truly visible. 

“This is crazy.”

Yes. Yes it is Kagome. I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and I can tell you that you’re a smarter girl than this. 

She rolled back onto her abdomen, waiting a few more minutes before picking up her phone, typing out a response. It chimed again, and she rolled off the bed, walking out of the room and taking it with her. 

Where are you going, Kagome? And without me... 

She came back a moment later with a bag of Kale chips tucked into the crook of her arm and a glass of water. He watched her place them down on the desk before doubling back for her computer, and the world around her jerked as she moved it to the desk. 

Her phone chimed again and she picked it up, blushing when she read the message, and she brought her knuckles up to her teeth, gingerly running them against her delicate pale flesh. 

Such an adorable habit. 

She didn’t respond right away - instead she opened her bag of kale chips and reached inside, plucking one as she concentrated on something on her computer screen. He wished he could see it, but he needed to pick his battles, and right now, he would rather see those beautiful blue eyes rather than know who she was talking to on facebook. 

That will come later, dear Kagome. 

She jumped a little when her phone rang, and she picked it up, hesitating a moment and taking a deep breath before answering it. 

“Hello?”

A pause, and she shyly bit the side of her lip.

He was calling her already?

“No! You’re crazy! The Office is a classic.”

Another pause. 

“Why would you say something so controversial yet brave?” she laughed.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still chewing on her lip. 

“Yes, but it paved the way for all the others!”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop smiling as she stood from the desk chair and absently began pacing her room. 

“Well of course he is - he’s my least favorite character too. I cringe when Scotts Tots comes on. I literally cannot watch it -- Yes! I mean literally as literally,” she giggled, putting her phone onto speaker as she tossed it to the bed and began rooting through her closet. 

“Well, why don’t you let me change your mind over dinner?”

He watched Kagome pause as she pulled out a pair of work out shorts and a tank top. 

“Too soon?”

Yes, Inuyasha. You can’t ask a woman out as soon as you meet her, especially Kagome. She needs to be wooed like the goddess she is! But it won’t matter, because she’s going to tell you no. Isn’t that right, Kagome. Your body language says it all. 

“No! I was just surprised.”

Kagome…

“You move fast, huh?”

And he will pressure you into things you shouldn’t be doing. It’s ok Kagome. I know you have a heart of gold, but you don’t have to take pity on him and say yes. That’s the last thing you need to do. 

“I’m not afraid to go for what I want.”

“Confidence...It’s sexy.”

“So you think I’m sexy, huh?”

“Yeah. I do. And yeah. I think I’d like that.”

No, no, no, no Kagome. Fuck! That’s the wrong answer!

“So, when are you free?”

“Depends on what you have in mind…”

“Dinner? Frozen yogurt? Some of The Office so I can show you how bad Michael is?”

“Mmm...Let’s see how dinner and the frozen yogurt goes first,” she countered, peeling her shirt over her head. It fell limply to the floor by her feet, and he watched with bated breath as she reached around her back to unsnap her bra. It joined her shirt in seconds, but he didn’t care. He was too enraptured with the sight before him.

Her breasts were beautiful. Everything he had fantasized they would look like, and more. He had thought her nipples might be a bit darker, but really...this pink suited her far better. He quickly took a screenshot, not wanting to miss a golden opportunity when it was gifted to him like this. He wanted to reach through the screen and touch them. Feel the weight of them in his palms. Rolls those nipples with his thumb. 

“I can live with that...so long as you tell me when and where to pick you up.”

“You’re so persistent!” she laughed, tugging on a drawer in her dresser to pull out a sports bra. 

“I told you - I go for what I want.”

“Ok,” she smiled. “I’ll text you details. You good with Friday?”

“Yeah. I can move some things around to make it work.”

“Liar. You don’t have any plans do you?”

Oh don’t encourage him, Kagome. And you don’t need to put that bra on either. Or that shirt. 

“Caught me - I’m free as a bird all weekend, and completely yours in whatever capacity you want me.”

She slipped her pants down her beautiful, creamy legs and kicked them off to the side. 

“You know, you’re very refreshing, Inuyasha. There are no games with you.”

“Mmmm...I always believed that games were for boys - men made it clear where they stood.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to going on a date with a man on Friday.”

“Only two short days away,” he sighed into the phone. “I don’t know what I’ll do to pass the time.”

She laughed. 

“I’m sure you will think of something…” she teased, pulling on her short out shorts and grabbing a pair of socks from her dresser. She slipped them on as she hung up with him, clutching the phone to her chest and falling backward onto the bed, squealing. 

She was silent for a moment, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she ran her hands down her face. 

“Oh my GOD!”

A few seconds later, she was on the phone again, calling someone else. 

“Sango, meet me at the gym. Right now. Treadmills. I’ll try and save you a machine. No...Sango...Please? I need you. I...I have news. I have a date on Friday.”

A brief pause. 

“I KNOW!”

Another. 

“Well, I’m not telling you shit unless you come with me to the gym. I’m already changed, so hurry it up!”

Treadmills, huh?

Looked like he was going to the gym. 

***

 That’s all she wrote, as they say...

[the-descension-inks]

Sojourn (Zutara Week 2020)

Summary: It's a strange fate that they have crafted for themselves; lines that don't quite meet, stars that circle each other, and stories that are almost written. (Or, glimpses into Zuko and Katara's lives, told in reverse, from the very end to the very beginning.)

[2/9] Counterpart

Zuko watches Katara's body float down the icy seas of the south pole two days short of the winter solstice.

Her hair is braided afresh, the loops in them just like she'd worn for her whole life; perfect and completely in place. She's blanketed in furs, put on a raft, and—

Just like that, she's gone. Just gone.

Read the entire series here, and this chapter under the cut, or on AO3, or on FF.net.

176 AG

Zuko watches Katara's body float down the icy seas of the south pole two days short of the winter solstice.

Her hair is braided afresh, the loops in them just like she'd worn for her whole life; perfect and completely in place. She's blanketed in furs, put on a raft, and—

Just like that, she's gone. Just gone.

Zuko wonders if he imagines it, the quirk of her lips that colors her face, as he sees the last of her, drifting away from him; unreachable.

Beat you to it, Fire Lord, he can almost hear her voice behind him, a breathy laugh accompanying it.

He hates it.

"Uncle Zuko?" He startles at the voice, at how similar it sounds to hers. Kya doesn't sense his thoughts though, or chooses not to perhaps; he doesn't quite know. "We're going to go inside for the family meal. You coming?"

He fumbles; the meaning behind the words not lost on him, the importance of it all, and he shakes his head. "Kya... I shouldn't. It's only—"

"Uncle," she cuts him off immediately; firm and decisive. She is every bit her mother that way. "Bumi and I want you there." There's a pause, and she adds as an afterthought: "Tenzin too."

For Tui's sake, Zuko, just go with her, he thinks he hears and finds himself relenting, and he gives the waterbender in front of him a small nod. She seems pleased, and he is sure he imagines the laugh that seems to waft in from nowhere.

He tries not to think too much on the walk back to the village, and it's mostly easy. The snow threatens to swallow him alive, his feet wavering and unsteady over it.

Kya notices his struggle, and promptly loops her arms around his, a small laugh bubbling out of her.

Zuko doesn't shrug off the support, as he would have done years ago. Age isn't something that being the Fire Lord – erstwhile Fire Lord – can save him from.

"Must feel like a long way away from home for you," Kya's voice cuts through his thoughts.

He chuckles, and then really contemplates the words, and realizes it somehow doesn't. He wonders when that came to be; how that came to be. Thinks it has something to do with what his Uncle would tell him on his years at sea: home doesn't have to be four walls, it can be a pair of arms, and a shoulder to bear all your weights.

Kya fills the silence that has grown between them: "When we were little, Mom would tell us stories at night." There's a fond smile on her face that tugs at him. "They weren't as good as the ones you told us though. The Dancing Dragon, remember, Uncle Zuko?"

He pretends to take offense, but the smile on his face betrays him.

"But you know, Mom's favorite stories were those of spirits. Tui and La, she told that a lot."

Memory nudges at him. "The moon and the ocean spirit."

"You know the story?" Kya beams at him.

"Well..." His mind flashes back to years ago, a lifetime ago, and he remembers the darkness that had shrouded the world. Eventually, he settles for, "Yeah, I do."

She hesitates for a moment, something that Zuko hasn't known her to do a lot, and then: "She would tell us how Tui and La always circled around each other... an eternal dance she would say."

Zuko feels his breath hitch, thinks of promises made and promises thwarted by destiny.

The younger woman continues, "It's just... I don't know. The way she said it, I suppose... Push and pull, life and death, good and evil, Yin and Yang." She lets out a nervous laugh and shakes her head. "I don't know if I should be telling you this, but— Oh, well. I'm really glad she had you through it all."

Zuko's eyes snap to meet hers, his mouth opening in protest.

"I really mean it." Kya's grip tightens around him, a strange wistfulness in her voice, "All those years. Everything. I think the happiest I ever saw her was when we visited Caldera. Or Ember Island. She'd just... light up, you know?"

Memory nudges at him yet again, and he thinks of words spoken in confidence. "Kya, I'm sure she was just as happy at home with—"

"No, no. Of course she was." She pauses, collects her thoughts, and gives Zuko enough time to start thinking of the what-ifs. It's exhausting; even after all these years, it hurts all the same. Kya picks up where she left off, "I think what I'm trying to say is... freedom suited her well. Being able to do things made her happy."

He knows, but he says instead, "Your mother was the feistiest warrior I knew."

Kya smiles, but there's hardly any mirth in her eyes. "I know. And growing up, the only glimpses I got of that was when we were away. When she didn't have to shoulder all of it just by herself."

He protests, because he must, "Kya..."

"Thank you," she says and steals all his words. She squeezes his arm, gives him a smile that reaches her eyes. "For being there. For her, for me, for Bumi."

There's a lump in his throat, but Zuko manages to fight it. "It's what anyone would have done."

She looks at him, opens her mouth, but the words die on her lips, as the light from the village falls on them. It is blinding, the life and color in it, and Zuko reels.

A montage of images flashes past his eyes, so fast he doesn't even fully realize what's happening.

But he sees Katara. In every single one of them.

Seventy-six and determined, another Avatar on her hands. Sixty-eight and widowed, hardly any tears left to be shed. Fifty-three and unsteady, a shell of who he'd always known her to be. Twenty-four and determined, voice ringing above everyone else's. Fourteen and terrified, weeping as she brings him back to life.

And like a tidal wave that creeps too slowly, but knocks down everything in its path, he realizes he'll never see her again.

He doesn't think he can breathe—

But then, a wind whooshes past him, and he swears he hears lilted words swaying in them: the kale cookies won't do much for you, they taste like dirt.

.

.

.

A/N: Tumblr seems to hate me, and just doesn’t let my work appear on the tags.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

@zutaraweek

[broadstreetmisfits]

Make it Last - Carter Hart

Requested?  Y  /  N  “Oh i hope im doing this right, but could you write 11 from your prompt list with carter hart?”

Prompt: “Stop hogging the blanket”

Warnings: Swearing

WC: 1,056

Summary: You met Carter at your job, and thought he’d just be a simple customer that you’d never see again. But when you two start to hit it off, will you two become something more?

Going to college in Philadelphia definitely had its ups and downs. You got to get out of your small hometown and live in a completely different environment. 

But college was also extremely expensive; especially going to a school out of your home state. So, you found yourself waitressing for a small hole in the wall restaurant. 

It started out as a normal work shift; you had a few tables and were counting down the minutes until you’d be able to go home. 

An hour or so into your shift, you saw one of the hosts seat you with a four-person party, all guys, and the oldest looked around 22 or 23. Once you got in the kitchen to get them bread, you let out a groan, knowing this would probably lead to a lot of uncomfortable flirting and being hit on. The only plus side of this was that they were all pretty attractive from what you saw.

As you got to the table, you put on your best fake smile as you introduced yourself, “Hey guys, welcome. My name’s Y/N and I’ll be taking care of you. Can I get you all started off with something to drink?” 

To your surprise, all of the guys were incredibly polite throughout their entire time at the table. Of course, being a bunch of young men, they were a little rowdy once or twice, but they left the table clean when they left, and even though they all got separate checks, each one of them tipped extremely well. 

However, when you did pick up the checks after they left, in one of the booklets, an additional piece of paper was tucked in that had a little note on it. It read: “Text me - Carter” and had his number along with his Instagram and Snapchat handles.

You rolled your eyes and began to walk over to the trashcan. But when you got there, something stopped you from throwing the note away. You decided to hang on to it and throughout the night, you debated on whether or not you were going to contact him or not.

Later that night, you were back in your dorm and decided to at least find out which one “Carter” was. You searched up his Instagram, and when you found out which one he was, you were stunned, to say the least. First off, he was attractive, and second, you didn’t expect him to play for the Philadelphia Flyers.

After another half hour of deliberation, you decided to follow him. A few minutes later, you got a notification letting you know that he followed you back and sent you a DM. It was only one word, but it caught your attention:

“Hey”

You replied to his message, and the two of you began talking. As much as you loved texting him, the digital contact quickly turned into seeing him in person. He’d tell you about himself, from what it was like to play for the Flyers to his favorite food. You’d tell him about yourself as well, from what your major was to how you hated the sound of your dorm alarm. 

One day, a few weeks into knowing him, you were over at his apartment, both of you laying on the couch watching TV. His arm was wrapped around you, but his eyes were glued to the TV like it was nothing. You, on the other hand, could see the potential relationship in front of you. 

“Can you believe it?” You asked, causing Carter to look down at you with furrowed eyebrows

‘What?” He asked, a slight chuckle escaping his lips

“Can you believe that only a month ago I was waiting on you and your teammates and now were lying on your couch like we’ve known each other for years?” 

“Well when you put it like that, yeah I guess it is kinda hard to believe,” He said, “But you know what would be even more difficult for someone to wrap their head around?”

“What?” You asked 

“If we started dating” Carter answered, pulling you a little closer to him

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” 

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Carter asked

A stupid grin formed on your face as you answered “Yes”

The same smile soon appeared on your new boyfriend’s face. You quickly stretched your neck up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

A few days later, you and Carter went on your first official date. He took you down to the Navy Yard, which was one of your favorite places to get away from all of the hustle and bustle of the city. 

Carter had packed a picnic filled with both of your favorite foods. To be honest, you were thankful that Carter packed some junk food for you because you’d probably die if you ate a pure kale salad as a meal. 

As the two of you ate, you noticed that Carter would spread out more every few minutes, eventually leaving you to only have a small square of the blanket for yourself. When his leg almost ended up on top of your food, you knew you had to say something.

“Okay, can you stop hogging the blanket?” You asked, trying to push his leg away from you.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, a smirk playing on his lips

“Because It would be nice to not have your hairy leg in my food” You replied

“Fine” He sighed and moved his leg

Once you two finished your meal, Carter scooted over to you and put his arm around you like he had done that first time at his apartment. There was something about being right up next to him, being able to feel his every breath that relaxed you and almost made you feel at home. 

As the weeks went by, you began to leave things over at Carter’s place. The items started out small such as extra hair ties and Bobby pins, but before you knew it you began leaving an extra toothbrush, your makeup and even clothes in his apartment. And to be honest, his apartment started to feel more and more like yours every day.

And even though your relationship was only just blossoming, you think you found the best thing that’s ever been yours. 

[rosegoldannie]

Tell Me no Lies-Chapter 14

TW: Mentions of abuse

Aelin sighed, rubbing at her temples as her cheeks grew warm. Across the table, her roommate wore a disgustingly smug smirk, hands folded neatly behind his head. “Give up?” He jibed, that smirk only widening. 

She only glowered back at him, then shifted her gaze back down to the task at hand: not losing a fifth game of battleship. Slowly, she placed her piece, and crossed her fingers. With two spaces left each, they both had an equal chance of winning.

Rowan remained stone-faced for several agonizing seconds, then- “Yes!” He shouted, jumping to his feet as he danced yet again round her. Aelin only rolled her eyes, and leaned back against the couch. He was insufferable. Utterly insufferable.

After yet another victory lap around the room, he at last slowed to a stop. “Here.” He muttered, tossing one of his hoodies towards her. “We’re going to get food.”

Catching the sweatshirt with a hiss, Aelin scowled. “We have food here.” What she didn’t say was that she was afraid of going outside, regardless of the fact that Arobynn had not been seen in over a week.

“Fine. I want artery-clogging food, and we have nothing of that in our kale-smoothie filled fridge.”

Huffing a sigh, she waved a hand up at Rowan, who practically jumped with glee, and scampered over to her, eagerly helping her to stand. As always, he made to ask if she was alright. And as always, she simply waved him away with half-hearted reassurances. 

A slight glance out the window at the heavy snow made her grab a thick, black jacket, fluffy beanie and brown uggs. Leaning over her, Rowan wound a woolen scarf around her neck, and finished it into a bow. “There,” He beamed proudly, “a fair princess fit for a date with her prince.”

“You are so not my prince.” Aelin muttered, but still slid her arm through his, and allowed him to lead her out and down to the snowy streets.

Despite snow being a regular occurrence in Adarlan, very few cars were out with even fewer people. The mundane streets appeared to take on an otherworldly air. Utter silence surrounded them as they trekked through the snow, making idle conversation. When their conversation lulled, Aelin found that the silence that followed was natural, and comfortable.

Rowan kept her arm looped through his, her hand clutched to his chest, all the way through the biting cold, to their favorite coffee shop.

He only released her to open the door, a warm blast of air hitting her in the face. Aelin grinned, scampering as fast as her back would allow the glass display case filled with sugary-sweet Christmas treats. She knew without looking that her roommate was rolling his eyes, and grinned wider at the thought, a fuzzy feeling filling her chest. “That one.” She stated, pointing at a large triple-chocolate cupcake.

Sighing, he relayed their order, a chocolate mocha, the cupcake, and a cinnamon dolce latte with caramel drizzle, to the tired-looking cashier. 

Once they were alone at the pick-up counter, Aelin raised an eyebrow at his order. “A cinnamon dolce latte? Really?”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan braced his forearms against the wooden counter, those green eyes sparkling. “Says the twenty-three year old who eats more candy than the average eight year old.”

She huffed, a smirk winding onto her lips. “And this comes from the twenty-six year old who lets a twenty-three year old walk all over him.”

Rowan groaned, a grin hidden by his hand. “I hate you so much.”

“I know!” She chirped, beaming.

A slight flush spread across his cheeks, highlighting those keen eyes.

~~

Taking their food, they went to sit in front of a small fireplace next to a large window, overlooking the street. Aelin instantly curled up on the stone in front of the fireplace, savoring its warmth as Rowan dropped quite unceremoniously into a leather chair.

“So.” He began, taking a large sip of that ridiculously sugary concoction. “Christmas is coming up.”

Aelin grinned, munching on her cupcake. “Yes, it is.”

“And…? What are we doing?” 

She froze, and chose her next words very carefully. “How do you mean?”

He scoffed, though there was no venom behind it. “You’re not working, are you?”

“No, why?”

A grin spread across his lips, that blush returning. “Perfect. What would you think if I asked you to spend Christmas with me?” Aelin didn’t respond, sensing that he wasn’t yet finished. “With just me.”

It felt as if her lungs collapsed, as if she had been set aflame. Cheeks blazing a bring red, butterflies roaring in her gut, all Aelin could do was nod and try not to choke on her hot chocolate. She failed, launching into a harsh coughing fit.

The next two hours passed in a blur of laughter and coffee. At some point, Aelin discovered that she had slowly migrated towards her roommate, as he had with her. Now, they were curled up together in front of the roaring fire with Rowan’s arm wrapped securely around her.

“Alright,” Rowan murmured, “I know Aedion and Lorcan, but who the hell were all those people the other night?”

Instead of the expected jolt of fear she expected upon remembering that night, Aelin found herself chuckling. “Okay, you know who Chaol is, right?”

“Yes. Your ex,” He stated.

“Yep. The Curly-haired woman is his wife, Yrene. The girl sitting with Lorcan is-”

“-Elide, I know. Lorcan’s friend, I think.”

“Girlfriend.” Aelin corrected teasingly, and savored Rowan’s shocked expression. “She’s mine and Aedion’s cousin. The woman with Aedion is Lysandra, his fiance,” At that, she nudged Rowan with her elbow, “who I most certainly am not.” 

Rowan chuckled, ducking his head down to hide that glorious smile that warmed her heart, and gestured for her to continue. “The girl with the red hair is Evangeline, Lysandra’s sister, -- though we tend to call her Eva -- and the guy with her was Hollin. He’s the younger brother of Dorian, who I’m pretty sure you know. Then there’s his wife, Manon, the chic with the white hair.”

“Got it.” He muttered, turning his head towards her. “Manon’s the one who came to the car, right?”

Aelin’s cheeks turned red yet again, as her mind whisked back to their conversation in the car. What almost came after. Her voice was high when she responded. “Yep, that’s her.”

The next night, after Rowan dropped her off at the hospital with a homemade lunch and a very thinly veiled interrogation as to how she was feeling, Nesryn asked yet again if she had a secret boyfriend, and yet again Aelin denied it, though a strange feeling overwhelmed her at the thought of Rowan as her boyfriend. She quickly shook it off and returned to filling out charts

Just before she was meant to clock out for lunch, a young girl no more than twenty stumbled in the ER doors. With how bad her...everything...was aching, Aelin nearly told Nesryn to take care of the girl, but froze when she saw the bruises and blood on her face.

“Shit,” Aelin murmured, launching out of her seat towards the girl, whose blue-grey eyes now roved wildly around the empty waiting room. 

The girl at last faced her, terror blazing in her eyes. “Hi, um, could you help me please? I-my-he’s coming-”

Aelin’s stomach dropped, suspicions raving through her mind. Shoving them aside, she wrapped a careful arm around the girl’s bony shoulder, internally shuddering, and led her back into the triage area, to begin her assessment.

“Alright sweetie, we’re almost done.” Aelin murmured, scribbling away onto the chart. “Can you tell me your name?”

“F-Feyre,”

Aelin shuddered, clenching her eyes shut for a millisecond, before returning to the tasks at hand. “Can you tell me what happened please?”

“No!” Feyre hissed, scooting up on the gourney, her brown hair flying out in every direction. “No.”

Sighing, she leaned forward carefully. “Feyre, they won’t know. We have a system in place for this. No one will know you’re here unless you want them too, alright?”

She nodded slowly, the terror seeming to dim in her eyes.

“Alright, what is a name you would like to go on the Hospital records?”

“Clare,” She whispered.

“Perfect,” Aelin murmured, making a note on the chart to have Feyre not be listed in the database. “And can you tell me what happened?”

When Aelin at last slipped out of Feyre’s room, she couldn’t hobble to the breakroom fast enough as she dialed Rowan’s number.

He answered right as she collapsed onto an old couch, her lunch now long forgotten in the fridge. “Hey.” She said, staring out the window towards the heart of the city.

“Hey.” He slurred. “S’vry thing going?”

Guilt flared through her upon realizing she’d awoken him. “Sorry for waking you, I just really need someone to talk to.”

Muffled shuffling came through her phone. “No, no. I was awake I promise.”

Aelin scoffed.

“I promise. Now, what did you want to talk about?”

“Nothing. Just distract me. Please.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she found her cheeks damp even as her heart raced and fury boiled her blood.

Rowan was silent for several seconds. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Distract me, Ro. I don’t care what, just do it.”

Several more seconds passed, then- “If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell a soul.”

“I promise.”

“Lorcan told me today that he’s in love with Elide.”

“Old news.” Aelin stated. “We’ve known for months.” 

“Old news, we’ve known for months,” Rowan mimicked in a high-pitched voice that sounded suspiciously like hers. “What I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted was that he and Elide are planning on getting an apartment together.”

She froze. “Really? Are you serious?” She said, wonder lacing her voice.

“Serious as a heart attack,” He chuckled.

“Wow.”

Crackling filled the air as the rarely used loudspeaker hissed to life. “Security to the Emergency Department. Code Grey. Security to the Emergency Department. Code Grey.”

“Aelin? What was that?”

“Nothing,” She lied, nausea tingeing her vision green.

A loud crash echoed through the halls as Sartaq threw open the door, and it crashed into the wall. “Ashryver, we’ve got a situation. We need your help. Now.” 

Aelin was already on her feet before Sartaq had finished, murmuring a quick apology to her roommate before hanging up, and dashing after her coworker, who had disappeared into the maze of halls and doors. 

She heard the commotion long before she arrived in the ER, narrowly avoiding a chair that had been hurled in her direction. 

“Where is she?!” A tall, blonde man demanded, even as three security guards slowly crept towards him. 

“We don’t know who you mean.” Nesryn called soothingly. “If you could just tell us her name-”

“-It’s Feyre!” He shouted, shoving out at a guard that Aelin recognized from the annual holiday party to be Ren. 

“There’s no Feyre here.” Aelin hissed, slowly reaching into a drawer and withdrawing an anesthetic. Her blood roiled within her veins upon realizing who the man was, what he had done.

The man roared in fury, and threw another chair, this time at Nesryn, who unfortunately was not able to dodge it in time. She hit the floor with a thump, and shouted several colorful words.

Ren took that opportunity to lunge at the man, tackling him to the ground and pinning his arms. The other two guards secured his legs as Aelin launched over the counter, ignoring the agonizing crunch of her spine to ram the needle into the man’s calf. Almost instantaneously, he calmed and went limp.

Flames and knives ran up into her neck and skull down into her knees, and Aelin couldn’t fight it any longer, sagging into Ren, who damn near dropped her out of surprise. She sunk slowly to the floor, teeth dangerously close to cracking by how hard she was gritting them.

Carefully, Ren helped her back into the breakroom as several other nurses brought the man back into a private room far away from Feyre, to hold him until law enforcement could arrive.

After a few minutes, Aelin got shakily to her feet, and stumbled back to Feyre’s room, and carefully settled into the bedside chair with an audible groan. “I’m here as a friend.”

The girl looked over at her, confused concern swimming in her blue-grey eyes. “Are you alright?”

Aelin waved her off. “I believe I just had the pleasure of meeting your boyfriend.” 

She huffed disgustedly, crossing her arms and staring down at the bruises that covered them. “Ex-boyfriend.” After a moment, she whirled to face her. “Wait he came here? You didn’t tell him I-”

“-We would never.” Aelin swore vehemently. “The police are on their way to pick him up now, and there’s no way he can avoid jail time, as he assaulted several nurses.” Upon seeing the horrified expression upon the young girl’s face, Aelin reached out a tentative hand to her. “Don’t worry though, they’ll be fine. Unfortunately, this isn’t all that uncommon.”

She was silent for several long moments. “Was he hurt?”

Studying her expression thoughtfully, Aelin came to the conclusion to tell her the truth. “He got stabbed with a lovely needle, then tackled. He’ll awake to either being in a jail cell or chained to a bed.”

“Good.” Feyre muttered. Then, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Go for it.”

“A friend of mine is on his way. Is he allowed to see me?”

“Only if you want him too.”

“I do.”

“Alright. What does he look like?”

“Black hair, dark skin and tall. His name is Rhys.”

Aelin smiled warmly at her. “I’ll see what I can do,” She murmured, before returning to the front desk. Though, she stopped by the breakroom to snag her phone.

Upon settling down into the blissfuly padded seats, she realized that there were several missed calls and texts from Rowan.

What is going on? Are you alright?

Please answer

Aelin just tell me you’re okay

Just answer please

Are you alright???

A large wave of guilt crashed through her as she typed her reply. 

I’m fine, just work stuff. Pick me up at Seven?

His reply came only moments later.

Of course

Several times, she watched the typing bubbles appear then fade, only to reappear a few moments later.

Sighing, Aelin shoved her phone deep into her pocket, and returned to working on her charts, glancing up at the clock occasionally. Nesryn returned to the desk a short while later, around three in the morning, muttering several kind words about the man now under arrest in the back. “Yeah.” Her friend huffed, slamming down a thick folder of paperwork, no doubt a report to be filled out about the incident that had transpired. “Apparently that asshole’s name is Tamlin.”

“Tamlin?” She scoffed, jotting down a note on an elderly patient’s chart. “Geez, even his name radiates douche energy.”

Nesryn flipped through the stack of papers. “It gets better. You know the Greene corporation?”

“Mmhmm,” Aelin hummed, not fully paying attention, eyes instead trained upon a dark haired man outside the entrance, arguing with a red-headed man. She only turned back to her work once they both stormed off in opposite directions. 

“Hey! Ash, you listening to me?” Her friend chastised, waving a hand in front of her face. 

“Yeah, sorry.” She muttered.

“As I was saying, apparently his dad owns the Greene corporation. You know, the one that was indicted last year for dumping radioactive material into the river?”

Aelin glanced up. “Wait really?”

“Yep.”

She could only sigh, and shake her head. 

An hour later, Tamlin was led out by the APD in cuffs, sporting several new cuts and bruises, his head held disgustingly high. He halted in front of the reception desk to sneer down at Aelin. “I will have your job for this, bitch.”

She could only scoff, more worried about the pain in her back than the piece of human garbage in front of her, and fought the urge to snap back at him, but managed to bite her tongue against the slew of vicious insults.

Once he was gone, she glanced up to the clock again, and was pleasantly surprised upon realizing her shift would end in less than an hour. 

Then her eyes darted to a sudden movement, to see the same dark haired man from earlier pacing in front of the entrance.

Nudging her friend, Nesryn glanced up as well.

Upon realizing he was being watched, the man tentatively approached them. “Hi, um. I’m here to see a friend.”

Momentarily stunned by his intense violet eyes, Aelin had to clear her throat several times before she was able to speak. “Their name, please?” 

“Feyre Archeron,” He murmured. 

Aelin paused, turning her head to study him. Dark hair, dark skin. “What is your name, please?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw ticked. “Rhysand Velaris.”

She nodded to herself, then stood against the stabbing pains. “Right this way,” She murmured, leading him back to Feyre’s room.

As soon as he saw her, Rhys practically shoved Aelin aside as he rushed to Feyre’s side, tears flowing freely down his face. Feyre threw her arms around his neck, sobbing as well. 

She met Aelin’s eyes for a split second, and gave her a greatful, watery smile as she pulled Rhys closer. Rhys was murmuring something too low for her to hear, and Aelin took that as her cue to leave, and went to pick up her things knowing Rowan most likely had already  arrived.

As she left the locker room, blissfully wrapped in Rowan’s hoodie, her phone buzzed with a new message, and dread instantly flooded through her. But it was only from her roommate.

I’m in the waiting room.

Surprise and shock rippled through her upon discovering he wasn’t in the same parking space as always, and Aelin found herself hobbling as fast as she could towards the Emergency Department, her duffel bag slapping wildly against her thigh.

She burst through the doors with a loud bang, and Rowan was instantly on his feet, moving towards her, and Aelin found herself dropping her bag and launching into his arms, burying her face deep in his neck.

His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up into the air as his forehead rested against her shoulder.

Aelin found herself crying silently in relief into his shirt, simply breathing in his Pine and Snow scent that reminded her oh so much of the mountains where she grew up, and she found herself feeling as if Rowan was her breath of fresh air.

Unable and unwilling to delve into what her feelings might mean, she was content to simply hold him and cry, regardless of the fact that they had an audience.

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[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: (Y/N) wakes up in the hospital after our last chapter. Maybe Shinso isn’t an asshole all the time. Maybe he’s got a redeemable quality after all. 

Series Summary:  

When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: I cut this chapter in two as it got to big, and the next chapter will be a lot to handle. So I tried to add some softer moments in this chapter. Enjoy

Warning: Mentions of being drugged, mentions stalker, mentions of urination on self.

Last chapter: Chapter Six

Next Chapter:: Chapter Eight 

The Barrage

     "You didn't tell mom?" I sat up with a start, chest racing. Three men were sitting around my bed, my hospital bed. "Wait, what's happening?" I gripped my head and looked away from the window. A dense fog had settled in over my mind, and situations blurred.  

   "What do you remember?" Shota leaned forward, gritting his teeth.

   Shinso shut the blinds, and I could see just how upset Hizashi looked. His puffy cheeks and red eyes, whatever had happened, must have scared him… scared.

   My stuffed animal burning. Hips blistered. More incentives just kept me frozen.

   Hands around my throat. Warm bubbly blood. Begging. There was always begging.

   "It's okay," Shinso had his fingers pressed to my forehead, and I centered my focus. The fog cleared, and the scent of coffee brought back what happened.

   "My work friend. He found me at the cafe, we were going to meet up later so I could see his apartment. He bought me a coffee. Said he added sugar because I was so sweet, but I hate coffee, and I declined. Then he dragged me to a comic shop." Rubbing the sides of my head, I chewed my lip trying to remember.

   Shinso's face flashed through my memory, and I focused on other details. Like the gravels in my knees, and the midnight plush. "He was trying to buy me an Eraserhead poster, but I have them all. But I didn't tell him that. Instead, I picked up Shinso's debut buttons, and Kira tore them from me. Then- I got mad, but I don't- it was a Midnight plushie. He said Midnight and I were both curvy, and I corrected him. He had both drinks in his hand with the plush under his arm. Next, a shop attendant came to ask me for something, and Kira went off about how cool my quirk was, and I didn't work for free. "I gripped my sheets, falling back into the bed wincing. "I'm an idiot."

   "It's that all you remember?" Shota ignored my self-degradation, pushing my hair behind my ear.

   "Shinso." The boy perked up and turned from the blind he'd been fiddling with. The bags under his eyes were notable than before.

   "I remember Shinso saving me." The lint ball wasn't totally insufferable, he had proved that today. It might have been his job, but I was grateful. "Thanks, I owe you a couple."

   "Don't mention it." I figured he'd gloat, but instead, he picked up his coat and slunk to the door. "I'm running to the convince store, any requests?"

   "Anything with caffeine," Shota sighed, leaning back in his chair.

   "I'm good, (Y/n)?" Hizashi glanced me.

   There was no way I'd ask Shinso for a damn thing before today, but maybe. "Chocolate, anything that will wash the taste of coffee out of my mouth, really."

   "Got it." He closed the door on the way out. I pulled my blanket up higher, feeling exposed.

   "So, what happened after I went down?" There was a lemon-lime soda on my bedside, and I gently sipped it, feeling the rawness of my throat.

   "You were taken to the hospital and had your stomach bumped for retinol." That explained the pain. Shota continued, "Kira got away, unfortunately. We'll have to be careful till he's caught. Did you tell him where we live?"

   "No, I said I was in the city. He believed me because I was biking to work every day. Oh snap, work is going to be super awkward. Like will he show up, or will I be promoted to his position." The possibilities were endless, I could even be fired for causing this. I've brought enough trouble to the company as is.

   "It wasn't a real jewelry shop." A man with a dog's face entered the room, totting a notebook. "I'm police chief, Kenji Tsuragamae, and I've been aware of a new jewelry shop in town. It was only open for a few hours each day, and we suspected it was a cover-up store. You were let go from Kale's Jewelry last month, and you were made to believe you had a position here. This is a very extreme case of predatory stalking."

   "Oh." I nodded, things clicking together. "Oh. I see… so I really am a dunce, huh?" Hizashi took my hand and pushed my hair from my face.

   "You're so bright and trusting, it's not a reflection of you." Hizashi coddled me, pressing his forehead to mine, rubbing my shoulder. The closeness was the only thing preventing me from crying.

   "We're going to make you sharper", Shota promised me, clasping both my hands. "For now, you need to heal and answer some questions."

   Mr. Tsuragamae's questions went by quickly. Things like how long I had known Kira, did he have any friends, what was his daily routine at work. Once he was done, my head was spinning again, and I was ready for a nap. The more I answered, the more apparent how much I overlooked earlier in our association.  

   Shinso returned soon after, bearing an energy drink for Shota, and a caramel-filled chocolate bar for me. The caramel did the trick, and soon all I could taste was the silky-smooth texture of liquid chocolate and caramel. While eating, Shinso went back to looking out the window, his back tense. He was such an ass, but even he knew when to tone it back.  

   "Can we go home?" I broke the silence, fidgeting with the hem of my gown. There was no reason for me to sit in an uncomfy bed and be miserable.  

   "I'll go ask the doctor." Shota took the initiative and left to chase my doctor down.

   The nurses had brought me more pain meds earlier and checked me over. But overall, I had been left to my own devices. I could be miserable in my own bed at the least. From what I gathered, Shinso got me to the hospital fast enough that the pills hadn't fully entered my bloodstream.

   Hizashi and Shinso had their own little conversation about Shinso's current mission, and I settled for finding my phone. The battery was dead and would stay that way till I got home. It had done enough by getting me help. Still, I wanted to look busy, so I used my sheet to wipe the screen off and shine the case.  

   "You can go home," an older nurse had followed Shota into the room." The last round of blood work came back clean. I must say you're a very lucky girl. If that boy hadn't got you in here so fast, you'd be comatose. There was enough retinol in your system to kill three men."

   "He's not half bad," I agreed, noting the odd smile from Hizashi to Shota. "I've been worse for wear before, but this was something new. Guess I can cross this off my 'never have I ever list'. Now to get home and beseech Hisoka for affection. Plus, get some real rest."

   "We'll be back in a few minutes with your papers." The nurse scribbled something on my chart before shutting the door behind her.

"I assume you want to wear the gown home?" Hizashi pushed my shoes onto my feet and tied my laces.

"Can't I wear the outfit I had on?" I asked, getting to my feet, wavering before Hizashi had his arm around me. The three men than froze, looking for the other to say something. "What is it?"

"You pissed yourself." My face went blood red as Shinso broke it to me, holding a plastic bag, that I assumed had my outfit in it.

"No." I crooked my head, scrunching my face together.

"That's just the cherry on the cake." Hizashi grinned, trying to make it easier.

"We all have accidents. under extreme circumstances." Shota took the bag from Shinso and tucked it under his coat.

"Can, can you just toss it. I don't want you to have to deal with that." I laid my head on Hizashi's shoulder and thought of Shinso carrying me earlier...I wanted to vanish. It didn't help that Lint Ball was giving me a pitiful look.

"Washing them is no problem, pro heroes wet themselves all the time. Right Sho?" Hizashi lead me to the door as a nurse brought a wheelchair.

"Not all the time." Shota held tight to the bag and paled.

"Can we just change the topic?" Sitting in the chair, I slumped my shoulders and made sure to keep my gown over my knees.

"The weather's nice." Shinso offered, handing me a peppermint from his pocket.

"It was nice this morning, for sure." Humming, I wiggled my toes in my shoes, forcing a smile.

"Tomorrow will be even better." Shinso insisted, holding open the door to the outside.

"I think so too." Hizashi chimed in, going to get the car to pick us up. The notion that tomorrow would put this behind me was comforting. I'd have to deal with the fall out Akira caused, but he couldn't run forever.

[heyimverydrew]

“He Who Calls 2 : The Hooded Witch”

“Tell us a story” yelled the small child. 

It was 1778 and the Witch by the name of Atunde River sat in the dark forrest with a bowl of water between her legs. They were running away from the evils of slavery. 

Atunde had dark brown skin like a freshly aged oak tree. She was plus size and she had black dreads down to her knees. She was 26 years old and a leader of this escape. She was leading dozens to freedom just as she’d done before. She wore a long brown dress decorated with flowers and her eyes were a dark brown. 

“Quiet” Atunde muttered. 

The three small children sat around her. 

“So you want a story,” said Atunde “stare into the bowl”. 

“Why” asked Nasir. 

“To see the story of course” said Atunde as she closed her eyes “ you have to stare into the bowl. This is a story of a witch in a time far from here. A witch named ‘The Hooded Witch’ “. 

The date was February 3rd 2021. The Philadelphia Police surrounded City Hall with their squad cars, guns drawn and spotlights flashed on the building. They yelled through a speaker as Bryan stood in the Attorney General’s office. Gun drawn to his head. 

Bryan was a 6 ft Black man and he stood there sweating as lights flashed through the window.

“Tell them I didn’t do it” said Bryan

“Bryan I-“ began the Attorney General

“Tell them I didn’t kill that cop. He attacked us! It wasn’t me.”

“Bryan if you put the gun down we can talk about reduced charges” said the general. 

“Fuck that!” Bryan said waving the gun in his face. 

The secretary sat on the floor and she screamed with every wave. 

“Shutup!” Screamed Bryan. 

The door was shut and locked but suddenly a noise was heard from the other side. 

“I ordered everybody out who the fuck is that?” Said Bryan. 

“I don’t know” yelled the Attorney General. 

The steel lock above the door knob began to glow a bright gold. So dark it was almost white and the lock gave off this color as it turned. 

“I’ll shoot” yelled Bryan. 

The turning stopped. And the door flew opened. 

The secretary screamed. The attorney general was pushed to the floor. And Bryan stood there gun drawn.

In the hall stood a tall figure standing 6’4. He wore a long black jacket that hung above his feet, a a black bullet proof vest with dark blue horizontal plates, black boots and a hood pulled up over his head. A dark blue mask covered his nose down to his chin and all that could be seen was this light brown skin mans chestnut eyes. Head and chest high he stood there ready as Bryan whispered “The Hooded Witch”.  

“Quite a mess” muttered the Hooded Witch. 

“Don’t fucking move sissy” said Bryan as he waved the gun. 

“Grandma what big mouth you have” hissed The Hooded Witch as he turned to the Attorney General and muttered “sleep”. The attorney general was halfway crawling to his desk when he collapsed and fell asleep. 

“Why’d you do that?!” Yelled Bryan in a panic. 

“He has a magnum in his desk. He was going to decorate the walls with the little brains that you do have. Now stop.“

Bryan froze unable to move only breath. The Hooded Witch got close and knocked the gun from his hand and grabbed him by the shirt as he pulled him along. 

The secretary screamed and The Hooded Witch  said softly “breath slowly”. She stopped screaming and calmly said “I’m breathing”. 

The Hooded Witch laughed and walked out as he pulled Bryan along. The Hooded Witch  pulled him down the empty halls of the city hall office building and he turned the corner to the exit and there stood 5 police officers guns drawn. 

“Fuck” The Hooded Witch turned around as the police ordered him to come back in disillusioned yells. 

The Hooded Witch walked calmly almost as if he was on a runway. “Its ok” The Hooded Witch  muttered to Bryan “I like pigs in a blanket”. The Witch pulled out a vile filled with a clear potion and he smashed it on the ground. The puddle grew a yard in just a few seconds and as the police ran behind him and drew their guns the puddle sprung up from the ground into 5 different portions. It wrapped around each officer and became a hard puddy, throwing them across the office, some on the ceiling, others into the elevator. The Hooded Witch smiled and dragged Bryan to another exit. All you could hear were the yells of police as The Hooded Witch dragged Bryan along. Bryan in a daze. 

The Hooded Witch kicked open the stair well door and there stood 12 police and they opened fire immediately. 

The bullets stopped immediately in mid air and began to circulate around The Hooded Witch  as if he was the sun.

The Hooded Witch walked away and pulled Bryan. The bullets continued to revolve around them as the police followed and shot. One officer grabbed The Hooded Witch by the shoulder and he grabbed the officers wrist and spun breaking it. He then sent his palm into the chest of another officer simultaneously using his power of heart stimulation sending a shock that threw him a yard off his feet. He ducked a kick from another officer and rose to give a round house kick that sent him slamming through a glass door. The Hooded Witch threw the long bottom of his jacket behind him as he turned around and grabbed Bryan. He grabbed him as the bullets circulated, and they slowly began to buzz and slowly became black and yellow as they turned into Bees. The bees surrounded The Hooded Witch as he approached a office door and kicked it open. Before walking in The Hooded Witch  muttered “Kolu” which was Yoruba for “attack”. 

The bees that were once bullets surrounded the officers and stung. They sprang shots that then because more bees and attacked even more. Over a hundred bees stinging at them. 

The Hooded Witch closed the door and locked it. “Be with me” said the Witch to Bryan. Bryan snapped out of it and backed up yelling “what did you do”. 

“I saved you” said The Hooded Witch, he then grabbed Bryan and walked directly through the wall to Bryan’s surprise. They were now on a train platform at the 13th and market station. 

Bryan yelled and backed away. 

“So lets talk Bryan. I know you didn’t kill that cop. And I know you plan to skip town. In your pocket is a new ID and enough cash to start over.”

“Why are you doing this?” Asked Bryan.

“I help you. You help me. Before you go you’re going to tell me where they’re keeping the women being held against their will. The motels keep changing but I want to know where they are.”

“And if I don’t tell you?” Asked Bryan 

“You’ll find out why the scariest people in this city whisper my name. Now tell me. Or you’ll be under this train and not on it.”

Bryan gulped.

“So, where are they?”

“Wow” said Nasir as he looked away from the water. 

“Ms.River he’s like you” said Bryanna as she sat on a log swinging her feet. 

“He beat that slave patrol like” started MBaku as he stood up and kicked and threw his fist. 

“Be quiet” said Atunde in a whisper as she held her laugh “he is indeed powerful. But a Witch in love is a Witch with a weakness”.

They all stared into the bowl as they continued to watch. 

The date was February 14th 2021. It was a bright warm night in a beautiful 5 star restaurant in center city. Caleb sat at the table with his fiancé Demarcus. He wore a dark blue turtle neck with black sacks and pointy black dress shoes. Demarcus wore a light gray suit with a dark gray tie that Caleb picked out himself. Caleb ate his crab soup as he listened to Demarcus rave about his case. 

“I’ve been calling you all afternoon to talk about this” said Demarcus.

“Yea I was at the gym sorry,” said Caleb.

“You’re taking this pilates class pretty serious” said Demarcus. 

Caleb smiled, he was really spending the last 6 months at a Dojo in south Philly learning Martial Arts. 

“So I won the case with barely any fight. Its like I was that good or they weren’t even trying” said Demarcus.

“I think you’re that good” said Caleb smiling. 

“Of course you do” said Demarcus smiling back.

“So I need your help with the Fishville slasher case “ said Demarcus.

“I told you I’m off that case,” said Caleb “I just don’t feel comfortable with it ok?”

“Babe” began Demarcus “this shit is weird. You’re the King of weird.”

“Wow my desire to sleep with you ever again has died” said Caleb putting down his spoon.

“Look at you on the downside again” said Demarcus laughing “no I meant you’re good at weird cases. Think about it. A man walks into a police station and confesses to a string of murders. He can’t remember anything about the last 72 hours other than the fact that he confronted someone that he calls ‘ The Hooded Witch’ “. The police search his home and find nothing. No weapons, no evidence, nothing. We don’t even know if he’s the real slasher.“

“Of course we do,” said Caleb. 

“Oh are you trusting this Hooded Witch guy?” Asked Demarcus. 

“Who says they’re a guy” says Caleb. 

“Sorry babe” Demarcus says quietly. 

“And I’m just saying they’ve done good. They freed those girls from that Motel last week and they captured The Jester. The police couldn’t even do that. Anthony Kale killed 32 people.”

Demarcus stares into space. 

“I hate when you do that,” says Caleb. 

“No I was just thinking how The Jester lost all  his memory as well. All he could remember was the ‘Hooded Witch’ “. 

“Well what are you going to do,” said Caleb changing the subject. 

“I’m going to get him out.” said Demarcus. 

“What?” Asked Caleb.

“The police didn’t find sufficient evidence. Mr. Bestwell has a history of mental illness and his confession wasn’t properly recorded. I can get him out easily.”

“Please don’t” begged Caleb “ you are possibly freeing a murderer?”

“And you want me to send a man to prison who we aren’t certain is a killer” spat Demarcus “I thought you were against things like that?”

“Demarcus,” said Caleb sternly “you can’t help free him. He confessed and the murders stopped what more do we need? Please just trust me.”

“…Okay” said Demarcus “I won’t. I’ll let them give him 40-50 years.”

“Good,” said Caleb “so its settled. You’ll thank me later. You don’t want to be known as the guy who got the fishville slasher out of prison.”

“Right” said Demarcus as he forced a smile.

The children looked away from the water.

“And what happened next Ms. Atunde?” Asked Nasir.

“The man with the knives stayed imprisoned. But Demarcus resented Caleb.”

“Why?” Asked Bryanna. 

“Well,” began Atunde “Demarcus was more concerned with fame and prosperity. And he lost a case he could’ve easily won. So one day. He disappeared. No warning, he just left. After this Caleb broke down. His powers became unstable. And he hurt those close to him.”

“How” asked Bryanna. 

“He was filled with rage, and he began to perform dark magics “ began Atunde “and his friend Tatianna grew concerned. Her grandmother and her coven attempted to bind The Hooded Witches powers. And he called the darkest most unnatural storm with vibrant unnatural lightning and razor sharp winds. He nearly killed them. After being disowned by Tatianna he willingly bound his powers and left them with the grandmother.”

“Whoa” said MBaku “and what happened after?”

“Caleb disappeared” said Atunde “look into the water.”

The date was June 28th 2021. Caleb sat on his car, a 78 blue corvette and he stared into the sunset. He was in a town just outside of Las Vegas. He was pulled over on the side of the road. He wore a white tank top, black jeans and black boots with studded heels. He watched as the sun left them again. He loved the orange sky and he loved watching the sun leave. One of the few joys that he still had. 

“Thanks come again” said Caleb as he stood behind the counter of the small gas station. Customer after customer. 

“You going to smile?” Asked Kya as she got to the counter. Kya was six feet, dark brown skin and she had long black braids down to her butt. She had several piercings in each of her ears and it was safe to say she was gorgeous. 

“No, but I will tell you to grab one more “Caleb said pointing to her shampoo as he chewed his gum “buy one get one free.”

“See that’s why I like you” said Kya going to grab another bottle and putting it on the counter “you look out.”

“I guess I do, “said Caleb ringing her out and bagging her things. 

“Look” said Kya “me and my girls are going to this club on the strip. Its called Elite Experience. Its for Black Queens like you and Black girls LIKE ME” said Kya alluding to being Trans “you should meet us there.”

“I work until 1am” said Caleb.

“The world is meant to be lived in, work will always be calling“ said Kya. 

“Im good,” said Caleb. 

“Okay” Kya said as she grabbed her receipt.

Caleb watched her leave as he thought. 

“Stare into the water” said Atunde “this is when it gets good.”

Caleb walked into the club. Wearing a black hooded top with studs down the sides and the same Black pants and boots from his shift. He didn’t have much time to change. 

“Mmm hey” said a white man as he approached Caleb “ drink?”

“No,” said Caleb as he walked passed him. 

“Caleb?!” Said Kya as she waved him over to her private table in VIP. 

“Hi,” said Caleb as he sat. 

“Is he not your type” asked Kya. 

“Hes really not” said Caleb. 

“What is your type?” Asked Kya. 

“Uh,” began Caleb “ tall, Black, dark hair, nice eyes” Caleb realized he was describing Demarcus and stopped. 

“Its that bad huh babe?” said Kya as she sat there in a tan tube top, her hair pulled up in a high pony tail as she sat in her black skin tight jeans “do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” said Caleb “well maybe. How-… how do you know if you aint shit?”

Kya laughs as Caleb stares. 

“Aint shit motherfuckers don’t reflect they protect their ego. Whoever it is .. aint worth your peace.”

“Wow,” said Caleb “Thats poetic I give you that. So whats your story? Lets invade your space”

“Ok well I’ve lived here 6 months” said Kya “I moved to LA from Brooklyn to pursue modeling. Fell in love with a dude in Vegas. Moved here. He wasn’t who he said he was so I left. So a girl bartends to make it now.I mean Im only 25 so Im not tripping. But I won’t lie sometimes surviving alone is a fucking horror movie.”

“Tell me about it,” said Caleb “ I’ve been here for about 3 months. I wanted something new. Im from Philly by the way were practically neighbors”

“Were nothing alike” spat Kya as they both laughed. 

“Shade” said Caleb. 

“See a smile” Kya said as Caleb rolled his eyes laughing. 

Kya looked at her phone and said “Im meeting a friend outside do you mind waiting here?” 

“Want me to come?” Asked Caleb

“No but watch my purse I’ll only be a second” said Kya as she tucked her phone into her purse and strutted away. 

“Ok Ill be right here” said Caleb excited to have met a friend. 

Caleb sat there as he waited. Thirty minutes passed now and he grabbed Kya’s purse as he stood up, ready to investigate. 

“Caleb?” Said a voice behind him. Caleb turned and it was his old boss Evelyn. 

“Evelyn hi, “ said Caleb “um what are you doing here?”

“Oh Im here for a wedding, a couple of the guys came here. My its been what 3 or 4 months?”

“Yeah…” said Caleb”

“So you ever figure out where Demarcus went? I just want to say it was terrible how he left you and well us. He left his friends to break it to you. And the spat you two had online it was just..”

“Yea I  don’t know” Caleb stated “I mean he practices law in England or something now. I don’t really want to talk about him.”

“Its ok” finished Evelyn “I just want to say a guy who looked like him wasn’t truth worthy anyway. I mean why would he be with you? “

Caleb stared. 

“Im sorry,” said Evelyn as she laughed “Ive been drinking.”

“And unfortunately I haven’t” started Caleb “look Evelyn. I don’t work for you anymore so I don’t have to pretend. You’re as tart as your Christmas cookies which really shouldn’t be complicated. But you’re as complicated as that $3 drink that couldn’t put a fly on its ass. Now look, I don’t like you, I don’t wish to engage with you and more importantly I have nothing to prove. I wish Demarcus well but we were equals. Him looking better in your eyes or anyone else’s doesn’t change that.  Now excuse me,” said Caleb as he walked away and stormed back to say “and expect an anonymous report very soon. I think the Smith’s would like to know that their lawyers have discussed very private information with rival investors.  Now Sip on that in your fake Louis, those tilted ass kitten heels and that brass fake ass gold bracelet. Goodbye.”

Caleb stormed out. 

“And that’s why I gave him a good reference,” said Evelyn to herself “…I knew this bracelet was fake”

Caleb searched outside the club and the strip for 3 hours. No sign of Kya. He even call Vegas police who were no help. No one cared but Caleb. 

It was now the next day. “Tell Mark I won’t be in today” said Caleb as he sat on the hood of his car watching another sunset in the desert. He wore a Formation World Tour tank top, ripped stone washed jeans and white tennis shoes. Kya had been missing for a day and he was determined to find out what happened. 

Two white men and one white woman stood over Kya as she laid barely conscious tied to a steel slab in their living room. They stayed in a expensive home by the beach. Each window tinted in the dark luxurious home. 

“I need to feed” said the woman vampire Alexandria. 

“Go” said Leonardus the lead vampire as Ryan stared on, rashes formed around their mouths as they usually did when it was time to feed.

Alexandria grabbed Kya by the throat and stood over her as she sucked her essence. Kya suffocated and veins filled her neck. Her essence was invisible but slowly left her and filled Alexandria as the rash around her mouth vanished. 

“Not too much” said Leonardus” we need her to last another day. “

Kya cried as she muttered “help”.

“Ok think Caleb” said Caleb as he went through her purse that was on the hood of his car. He couldn’t unlock her phone but he saw that her last text was from a man named Leon. Caleb went through her purse and found a card for a place called “Leon Enterprises. He was on the right track. 

“Vampires?!” Said Nasir as he and the other kids stared away from the water. 

“Vampires,” whispered Atunde “the kind that live long and suck your life force. Caleb was smart. He studied and found that Black women all across the land were disappearing and turning up drained to death. But Caleb was able to link Leonardus to one other incident. And upon learning that he was dealing with vampires The Hooded Witch was ready to fight.” 

“Without Magic?” Asked Bryanna

“Stare into the water,” said Atunde. 

The date was June 30th 2021. Caleb walked around the beach house. It was 6:00pm and almost sunset.  The street was quiet , and he finally found the house that he’d looked up online. The only house he could find that was linked to a man named Leonardus Hines. And Caleb noticed that all of the windows were tinted. “Could it be anymore obvious” Caleb muttered. 

Kya laid on the steel slab as the three vampires stood around her. All of their eyes were red with veins and bright red rashes surrounded their mouths and chins. 

“This is the last of her” says Leonardus “so eat wisely”. 

“Please” begged Kya “don’t. Please. If you let me go I won’t say a thing.”

“But who could you tell,” says Leonardus “we chose you because no one cares about you.”

“I do, “ says Caleb as he walked into the room “and for a man 300 years old you sure have a cold heart.”

Leonardus growled.

“Maybe I’ll put a stake through it” said Caleb puling out a stake that he carved. 

“Caleb” muttered Kya with a smile. 

Alexandria charged at Caleb and he kicked a foot stool at her knocking her over. Ryan charged at him at twice the speed of a human and Caleb bashed a vile of pure garlic on his face. He collapsed holding his melting face. 

Leonardus appeared to the right of Caleb almost out of no where and he pushed him clean into the air on the other side of the room. Caleb held his side as he laid there. He got up and charged at Leonardus and attempted to stab him with the stake, he ducked with ease, then he ducked a punch and grabbed Caleb’s foot as he attempted a kick and he flipped him into the air. Caleb lied beside Kya on the ground. 

“Witches are intuitive” said Leonardus “strong for humans. It makes you good fighters. But better for food.”

Caleb stood up and he held his side. He knew his last attempt was a spell, if he had enough magic to do so. 

“Thin as air,clear as water, now be seen, in this order. Thin as air, clear as water, be transparent, in this order.”

Leonardus laughed as he stood there. 

“Im too old for your magics” said Leonardus. 

“Your windows look pretty new,” said Caleb as the tinted windows began to lose its tint as if it were dirty with fog and now being cleaned. The windows became clear and the sunlight shined through. 

Alexandria now near the door escaped wisely. As the sun shined down Ryan and Leonardus turned to a ball of fire with their clothes and then into ash smoke that filled the air.

“Kya are you okay?” Said Caleb as he ran to her side to untie her. 

“I am now” said Kya as she got off the slab with Caleb’s assistance “lets get out of here.”

“Agreed” said Caleb as they walked out of the vampires nest. Free. 

“How did he have magic again?” Asked Bryanna as she broke the vision staring away from the water. 

“Tatianna begged her grandmother to restore Caleb’s powers after having a vision of his death. And the binding was ended. Unfortunate for the vampires though. Look into the water.”

It was December 15th 2021 in an abandoned train station in Paris. Alexandra and her friend Saleena walked into the station with Breelyn a very beatiful Black Woman.

“So where’s the party?” Asked Breelyn. 

“Who said anything about a party” said Alexandria as she turned around with a rash around her mouth and her eyes now red with veins. 

“Do you eat anything else” asked The Hooded Witch as he stood at the top of the stares of the station and he looked down at them “because when we say Black Only this isn’t what we mean”.

The Hooded Witch stood there in his long trench coat, bullet proof vest, dark blue mask and his black boots. He held in his right hand a 4 foot wand with a orange crystal at the base. 

Breelyn ran passed The Hooded Witch screaming as she exited. 

“Good idea” said The Hooded Witched as he looked back “I like her.”

Other vampires appeared now, 16 of them circling Caleb. 

“Everyone gets some” said Caleb “trust me…. tan imọlẹ!”

The wand began to glow with bright orange solar energy that grew by the second and lit the whole station as Caleb struck it on the ground. So much light that it lit every station in the tunnel. All 16 vampires gone. 

“Theres more” said Atunde as they stared into the water. 

It was December 30th 2021 and Caleb strutted through his luxury duplex and he called his secretary. He was now a private investigator under CK Investigations. 

“Yes Caleb” said Kya as she entered the room with files.

“The nest in Paris was a success,” said Caleb as he threw down his leather jacket. 

“”Boss..” began Kya.

“I mean summoning the sun was messier than I thought but hey,” said Caleb as he walked into his office and turned on the lights “remind me to return Malachi’s wand.”

“Boss someone is here to see you,” said Kya. 

Caleb turned and Demarcus rose from his couch. 

“I think we need to talk,” said Demarcus. 

“What happened?!” Asked Mbaku. 

“I’ll tell that story when you get older,” began Atunde “ but The Hooded Witch became a powerful hero. A hero who flew into the sky, fought enemies from the skies and one day like me moved objects with his mind. Like others with extraordinary powers he became a hero to man and he led those who became heroes by supernatural or evolutionary means. He became so strong that the Gods confronted him. To make sure he’d never rise for evil again.”

They stared into the water and saw Caleb levitating in space surrounded by three stars. The date was October 30th 2029. The stars buzzed and nothing more. But Caleb understood their communication as he flew in a steady motion, his trench coat flowing. 

The first star buzzed, the star was a bright yellow. 

“I have no desire to rule the planet” answered Caleb. 

The second star buzzed, the star was a bright blue. 

“I saved the earth from demons, other worldly beings and the White Witch. If I wanted to destroy-“ Caleb was interrupted. 

The third star buzzed, this star was a bright white. 

“My calling is to protect. Nothing more. I’m in control. “ answered Caleb. And the stars disappeared. 

“And Demarcus?” Asked Bryanna as they stared away from the enchanted water. 

“Demarcus was a good man but a hurt man and he found out that hes not as human as you’d believe him to be. He was a ikooko”

“A wolf..” Said Bryanna. 

“ A WereWolf, “ said Atunde “on his 30th birthday he became a Wolf. But he didn’t turn into a animal. He gathered strength, speed and strong senses. He too became his own hero in London. But not before a very big fight between him and the Witch.”

“Another?!” Said Bryanna. 

They looked into the water and saw a vision of Demarcus and Caleb standing on a busy train platform in London. The date was April 24th 2022. 

“I don’t want to fight you..” Said Caleb as he stood there in a black hoody, camouflage pants and a black face mask. 

“You not wanting to fight that’s new” spat Demarcus as he stood on the platform with ripped clothing and ripped sneakers, dirt in his hair and on his face.

“D this is the Ikooko talking, “ said Caleb as Tatianna stood behind him holding a pink crystal. 

“Now?” Asked Tatianna. 

“Not yet” said Caleb”. 

“You know most magic doesn’t work on us Wolves,” said Demarcus “but that doesn’t stop you huh Caleb? Always in control , with magic, persuasion, manipulation. You are the reason I STARTED OVER.”

“I’m sorry” said Caleb “ I should’ve been honest. But now I can’t let you hurt anybody else.”

“Well then lets go” said Demarcus as he charged toward him, pupils dilated and veins growing down his arms. 

“Now!” said Caleb. 

“Reverse, steady, do not flow” said Tatianna as everyone around them stayed in a 5 second loop. Repeating the same words and actions. The cameras also stayed on a loop as they watched. Tatianna continued to chant. 

Caleb reached behind his back to pull out a chain that was covered with inscriptions. And they fought. Caleb wrapped the chains around his right fist and swung at Demarcus. Demarcus ducked and kicked Caleb so hard he flew into the air and slid a yard back. 

“Keep going!” Screamed Caleb to Tati. 

Caleb approached Demarcus blocking a punch with his forearm and he sent a kick into his chest that barely moved him. Caleb slapped him across the face with the chain and ducked a punch. He then rose to uppercut him with the chain. He swung with the chain again and Demarcus grabbed it and pull, a pull so strong Caleb fell on the tracks. A train pursued. Demarcus jumped down, grabbed him and jumped in the air with Caleb to the other platform. As they landed Demarcus punched him to the ground. Caleb now on the ground lifted his foot into Demarcus’ face and he said “fasten” as the chains animated and wrapped around Demarcus’s body. Demarcus fell to his knees. 

“I know you’re in there” said Caleb “and we’re going to figure this out”. 

Caleb punched Demarcus unconscious. 

“Whoa” said Nasir staring away from the vision in the water. 

“But as far as their relationship,” began Atunde River “ Ill tell you that story one day. Love can be painful, tricky and ever changing.”

“I like them together,” said Mbaku “why don’t they just work it out?”

“Who says they don’t?” Said Atunde smiling. 

With the wave of her hand the fire extinguished. 

“The Hooded Witch lived both a hard and happy life” said Atunde “ but he lived. And that is the story of The Hooded Witch.”