#I mean honestly I might just stick with charcoal

[quibbs126]

I want a Charcoal Cookie

I mean, you can have activated charcoal in food, like charcoal cheddar, black ice cream, other things I can’t find (without the internet telling me there was some sort of trend about putting it in food, I’m just looking for actual food with it). So I mean, it works if you need the Cookies to be made of something edible

Also, maybe with charcoal being burnt wood, they could have a connection to Millennial Tree Cookie? Like, they were once a part of his forest, or even a branch from his tree, that got burnt into charcoal and then turned into a Cookie? And maybe they hold resentment for it? I dunno, just a neat idea pertaining to it I had

And also I want to make a joke about them eating wood to like, keep their powers active, like they have fire powers and they need to eat wood to keep it burning. But also they just eat sticks. Like yes, they eat other food, but they will just chomp on a twig

Just a random thing

[jackie5656]

Mercy On Me

With; James Potter

A/N: FINALLY. I am so sorry for how long this shit took. Honestly, I was expecting this idea to be short and sweet. Nearly 7k words later and here we are. Appreciate all your ongoing support, and I hope you enjoy!<3

Summary: The one where the two bumbling idiots are blind to the others’ affections amongst their argument, and James gets wasted. 

TW: Drinking, cursing NOT YET PROOFREAD

      Rain patters harshly against the pane of your window, with thunder grumbling every now and again. Wind whistles through the air outside, cutting through the comfortable silence of your bedroom. You love this weather. Finding solace in the sound of the rain and the grey hue that elicits in your bedroom. It helps you focus, convenient now that you’ve spent the past couple hours finishing up on homework assignments and studying for your upcoming Astronomy exam. The dynamics of the celestial sphere and the names of stars making up a series of constellations swim through your mind, yet theres’s an incessant fear you’ll manage to sit down in your desk come Tuesday and forget every piece of information you’ve just relayed. 

James Potter, one of your dearest friends, isn’t nearly as accommodating to rainy days. It means quidditch practice is canceled, you can’t meet up in the courtyard for the groups’ daily catch up, and you’re banished to the confinements of four walls. He’s sprawled across your bed, rotating through doodling, practicing new charms, and bugging you. 

He’s antsy. Your best friend is much like a hyper active child, and with no outlet for all his damned energy, he’s opted to pester you all afternoon. You try to block out his absent-minded humming and the scratching of his charcoal sketch sticks, but Prongs never makes blocking him out very easy. You swivel your chair to shoot him a glare when his rubber blending tool makes contact with he back of your head. 

“Can I help you?” It takes everything in you not to flick the shit-eating grin adoring his face now that he’s gained your attention. 

“Does it say anything in those books about dying of boredom? Because I’m starting to feel faint.” 

“Can't you go bother Pads or Moony? Why have I been chosen to bear the weight of your undiagnosed ADHD?” 

“You’ve been at this for hours, you’re not finished?” 

“Not even close, Jay. You know this exam is important.” 

“Can’t you at least take a break? Let’s take a nap.” He yawns, stretching over the expanse of your mattress. And while the prospect of sleeping beside him sounds tempting, you shake your head. It’s bad enough his offer elicits butterflies throughout your gut, when he’s merely seeking the company of a friend. 

“What about important exam are you not gathering?” He rolls his eyes, reaching down to grab the tool he’d used as a weapon and begin sketching again. Though not without a series of muttered complaints. 

You’re irritated. It’s not like you enjoy spending the better half of your day doing schoolwork. If you could afford it, you’d be right next to him and fast asleep ages ago. In a boarding school where you’re surrounded by peers for 80% of your day, there are times you wish to be alone. You regard the time to yourself as a chance to reset, considering your fragile social battery. Potter finds the notion completely foreign, and couldn’t possibly fathom why anyone would choose to not be around other people. You’re a little moody, sure. Which might be why you find his drumming of the charcoal against the book particularly distracting. 

After a few beats of deep breaths, you confront it. “Would you mind, Ringo?” He pauses, looking just past the pages to send you a cheeky smile. Your attraction only angers you further. It’s bad enough your feelings are unrequited, he could at least try to look less fucking good looking all the time. 

“If I weren’t being ignored, I’m sure I’d be less intolerable.” 

“Why don’t you go find Sirius, I’m sure he’s bored. Or even Lily, sure she’s studying in her own dorm.” He’s not particularly thrilled with your tone in regard to your shared red-headed friend. His crush on Lily, though having been topic of conversation every time he opened his mouth, was fast and fleeting last year. He hadn’t regarded her anywhere close to that sense ever since-Since forever ago. Additionally, James Potter hates feeling needy. Like you don’t want to share his company. Like his affections are too smothering, unrequited. 

“I’m not sure why you have yourself so worked up.” There’s a twinge of venom to it, you’ve unknowingly struck an insecurity. Your brows furrow with frustration, unaccustomed to his attitude. 

“Not all of us can thrive off our athletic reputations, or effortless grades.” You almost regret it as soon as it’s said. You hadn’t been looking for an argument, but you’ve definitely found one. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” He crosses his arms, loosened tie covered by the fabric of his robe. 

“James, I didn’t-” 

“No, you did.” He moves to sit up on your bed, hazel staring daggers into yours. Daring and unkind. It twinges something close to nausea in your stomach, though your blood still boils. “What did you mean?” 

“I mean you don’t even have to try! Your marks are near perfect yet you rarely study. And if anything, you have quidditch to fall back on for an excuse.” He scoffs, nothing short of disbelief and indignation. 

“So what, you think I don’t work for what I have?” You’ve definitely struck your nerve, but the bastards been disrespecting your social boundaries all day, and it’s most definitely gotten to you. 

“That’s not what I said.” 

“But it’s what you meant.” He stands, looming figure no longer comforting as it usually is. He’s almost intimidating, glaring at you as if you’ve just cornered him. 

“I only mean athletes get treated differently, sometimes. It’s not you fault it’s, just not necessarily fair to the rest of us.” There’s that scoff again, a roll of his eyes as he wets his lips.

“You’ve lost the plot, mate.” 

“Well of course you wouldn’t notice! You are one James, how would you be able to see it?” 

“I’m glad that’s how you regard me, y/n. Freeloading off quidditch as if I don’t work hard as well?” There's a tone of distaste as your name crosses his lips, it feels like a punch to the stomach. 

“Again, that’s not what I said.” You stand too, shoulders tensed with anger. 

“Whatever. I’ll see you later, considering I’m such a bother.” He’s out the door before you can open your mouth to respond. You jumped the sound of your front door slamming, collapsing back into your chair with an exasperated sigh. 

**********

Dinner is undoubtedly awkward. The rest of your friends are enveloped in conversation, but you and James keep to yourselves for the most part. Unfortunately, you were the last to make it to the Great Hall, and the only open seat was beside the only boy you’re currently at odds with. Mary’s been trying to get your attention the past ten minutes, Pads too. An evident ‘what’s with the tension’ but you and Prongs brush them off. 

Landon O’Connor is a friend of a friend. A fellow Gryffindor that photographs many of the school events and quidditch matches. James knows him fairly well, which is why he’s astonished the brunette boy approaches your table with a curt nod to James with his eyes only on you. Aiming to sit in the awkward gap between you and him with a kind smile. 

You have to grip the table to steady yourself when you’re pulled swiftly into Jame’s side. The boy has wrapped his leg around yours from under the table and pulled you toward him. Shooting a look to the bewildered photographer, he ignores your heated gaze. The group snaps their heads to watch as James squares his shoulders, eyes darting to yours for only a second before he offers your peer a gentle smile. 

“Evening, everyone. Doing alright?” There’s a chorus of commonalties Landon nods along to before his eyes land on you, flitter to the brooding chaser, and then back to you. 

“Y/n, still studying for Sinistras exam?”

“You kidding? I haven’t stopped.” He chuckles, settling beside you and allowing the group to fall back into their own discussions. Though you get the feeling they’re most definitely paying attention to how this is gonna play out. 

“You’ll be fine, you’re a smart girl. Besides, a couple friends of mine are meant to get together to review the material in the courtyard tomorrow. You’re more than welcome to join us.” A pleased smile pulls at your lips, falling immediately when James scoffs into his chalice. 

“Alright, Potter?” The boy nods, arm brushing against yours when he turns to face the both of you. 

“Fine. It’s just, y//n typically studies alone. Doesn’t appreciate any distractions.” You bite your lip, matching the boy’s challenging stare. There’s that same venom in his words, anger still prevalent from your argument. You break away first, offering another bright smile to Landon. 

“Actually, I’d love to join you guys. The company’s fine as long as it’s productive.” James feels his skin run hot when you shift on the bench to face completely away from him. Your attention solely on the bloke to the left. 

“Isn’t there a photography meeting during evening hours on Thursday’s, O’Connor?” You can feel James loom closer to you, and by the look on Landon’s face, his expression is not nearly as welcoming as before.

“Well, yeah. But today’s was optional and I thought-”

“I’m sure the lads are probably wondering where you are, yeah?” Irritation is heavy in his tone, it’s an apparent but unspoken  ‘get lost’. 

“Right, probably.” The brunette surveys your friends, not letting their quickly averting eyes go unnoticed. “Y/n, if I don’t see you at the library tomorrow, will I be seeing you at the party this weekend?” 

“Definitely. Good seeing you.” There's a shared grin between you both as he stands again, a hope he hasn’t been scared off indefinitely due to the awkward encounter. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, love.” James actually laughs this time, shoving at Sirius’ shoulder when the raven-haired boy kicks him under the table. Landon either doesn’t notice, or chooses to disregard it in lieu of being polite. 

“Could you be any more rude, Potter?” 

“Must be the privileged athlete in me.” 

“Must be!” And with that, you’re both silent again. Flushing under the bewildered looks of the rest of the Marauders. They get to talking again, a feeble attempt at concealing their eavesdropping. 

“You know, I’m starting to understand the whole ‘cutting tension with a knife’ phrase.”

“Shove it, Pads.” Both of you heat even more having said it in unison, only making the boy across grin even wider. Hands raised in a half-assed surrender, doing little to hide his amusement. 

**********

You feel much better about next week’s exam after studying with Landon’s group. Though the boy was fairly distant during your time in the library. It was bad enough you and James were at odds, now the bastard was scaring other boys off. What was the reason anyway? Potter had never made a move, never insinuated any interest despite your own. Sure, it hurt, but you wouldn't resent him for seeing you only as a friend. It made his distaste for O’Connor’s flirting nonsensical and infuriating, As if he didn’t necessarily want you, but didn’t anyone else to have you either. 

“Y/n/n, darling. Where are you? I’m risking poking an eye out with this eyeliner.” Sirius usually gets ready with the girls, arguing your pregame is much more fun than that of the boys. He maneuvers around the rest of your friends getting themselves ready amongst you and Marlene’s dorm. Arguing over which one of your tops they’ll be stealing for the night, or adding the finishing touches to their makeup. Sirius drags you onto the mattress beside him, offering the eyeliner stick in silent pleading. You oblige, tilting his chin up to begin. 

“Look up, Siri. Stop looking at me, especially like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m wounded or something.” You’re both quite enough so the girls singing along to the music from the record player or in the middle of conversations can’t hear. The raven-haired boy sighs, doing his best not to blink too hard and ruin your work. 

“It’s just, you and James haven’t spoken in ages.”

“It’s been two days, Pads.”

“That's a new record for the both of you. I can’t stand the constant moping, you’re both killing my buzz.” You laugh despite it all, rolling your eyes with fondness for his melodramatics. 

“I’m not sure he’s interested in speaking to me at the moment.” You hold up a tissue from your desk for him to wet with his tongue, wiping at any excess liner under his lash line. 

“Trust me, you’re all he’s been talking about. He’s not particularly happy with how things ended between the both of you. As are you, I’m sure.” His eyes dart over to your mirror, lips upturning in a pleased smirk at your handiwork. 

“Of course I hate to fight with James. I was in a bad mood and I just wanted to be alone. I should have communicated that to him.”

“Then why don’t you say so?” 

“Well what was that stunt he pulled at dinner the other night? Arguing with me gave him no reason to take it out on other people.” Sirius chuckles, shaking his head and reaching over to grab the bottle of liquor on your desk. 

“I think he would have given O’Connor lip had you been fighting or not.” You cock your head, about to press on when he passes you a shot. Holding out his own glass for you to clink. “To the first shot of the night, and most definitely not the last.” 

You hum, connecting your glass to his before throwing your heads back. Cringing at the burn in your throat and the shitty taste. “I’ve never understood your affinity to whiskey.” 

“Mends the soul or something, I don’t know. Alcohol is alcohol.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before standing, nodding his head toward the door. Marl’s Lilly, and Dorcas are already headed out to the common room as you follow suit. 

********

It’s well into the party when Remus approaches. Collapsing onto the well-worn couch beside you. You greet him with a warm smile, stretching before resting your head on his shoulder. He was your partner for beer pong, and you’d played against Sirius and James. Needless to say, you’d lost and both had to drink  more than your stomachs were comfortable with. 

“Alright, Rem?” You wrap your arm around his, enveloping him in warmth because he’s almost always chilly. He shakes his head, smile etching over his features. 

“We suck at Pong. I think I can literally feel the beer sloshing around in my stomach.” You groan, hiding your face into the fabric of his sweater with self-pitying chuckles. 

The game hadn’t been too awkward. You hadn’t spoke much to Potter over the course of the game, but laughed along with him at Sirius’ tipsy smack talk. His lingering gaze had etched a lump in your throat a couple times, but you’d choked it down with more beer. Hence the comfortable, warming buzz. Remus presses a kiss to your head, digging in his pocket to retrieve his usual chocolates. You oblige instantly, because he’s right, they always make you feel better. 

“Love.” He breaks the comfortable silence, surveying your cheekily drunken peers with admiration. “If I asked you a favor-” 

“Anything, Moons. You know that.” He hums, pressing the side of his cheek into the top of your head in acknowledgment. He’s never minded affection with you, and you’re more than grateful to be one of his few exceptions. 

“Would you talk to Prongs?” 

“Rem-” 

“For me?” His palm opens to offer you another chocolate, and you scoff at the clear bribery but snatch it anyway. “Sweetheart, he’s practically moping in the corner. Won’t even be Pad’s partner anymore. And you know how much James hates to break a winning streak.” 

“It’s his brooding athleticism, I suppose.”

“Y/n.” It’s a warning, a push to forgive.

“He was a jerk, Remus.” 

“You know how he can get, love. Some things you have to lay on him easy. Our Prongs is quite stubborn.” 

“You can say that again.” 

“But so are you sometimes, yes?” You meet his eyes, feeling properly chastised. “You know it’s only because he cares about what you think of him so much. He hated hearing you thought less of him for something he couldn’t possibly control.” 

“But that’s not what I meant, he should know that!”

“Perhaps our boy isn’t as self assured as he lets on sometimes.” His words send a pang to your heart, you know better than to believe Potter isn’t almost always in need of reassurance from his friends. “Regardless of how it was intended, you’ve both hurt one another. Yes?” 

“Yeah.” You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling terribly guilty. And rightfully so.

“So will you go comfort him? Because he’s just about trollied, and will not stop whining about how much he misses you. It was cute at first, but now it’s beginning to become quite irritating.” 

“Fine. But only because I love you.” 

“We both know that’s not your reason.” He scrunches his nose at you, teasing. You pull away with feigned disgust. 

“Oh, shove off.” 

Potter’s across the room in an arm chair, moping just as Moony had said. Even worse than you’d imagined, actually. A pout on his lips as he takes swigs from the beer in hand. Heart aching at the sight of him, it becomes clear just how much you’ve missed him too. He doesn’t notice once you approach, even when you rest your hands on the arm of the chair and bend at the waist to his level. Tapping his knee so he’ll lift his gaze from his lap. James goes from a deep frown to fighting a grin at the sight of you. A definite pinking to his cheeks, from the alcohol or your presence, you’re not sure. 

You wish to slap the voice inside of you that aches to press your lips to his. 

“Hi.” He’s beaming now, hand instinctively reaching out to push a stray strand of hair from your face. It risks your knees giving out right then and there at the gentleness of it all. 

“Hey, Potter. What’s up with the moping, Sirius needs his partner.” You nod to the game ahead, cheering along when Sirius scores. A large, warm hand slides up your forearm, and you tilt your head back down to see his hazel eyes staring up at you with an emotion you can’t quite read. Fondness fills you to the brim at the sight of it. 

“I’m not in the m-mood.” There’s an adorable hiccup that sounds between the last word, the ache in your heart growing tenfold. “Where’s O’Connor? Thought you’d be with him.” It’s genuine, there's no self pity or ill-intent behind his words. Instead, it’s almost solemn. Much unlike the James you’re accustomed to. 

“I’m sure he’s around somewhere.” You shrug, clear in your indifference. “But I wanted to check on you.” The corner of his lips twitch upward, but he bites it away. Another squeeze to your arm he hasn’t found the strength to release just yet. 

“It’s okay if you want to go hang out with him, Y/n. I’m fine. And you’re angry with me.” 

“I’m not angry anymore, James.” You can’t help but run a hand through his unruly curls, smirking when he leans into the touch. 

“You aren’t?” You shake your head, crouching to get more comfortable. 

“I mean, I was. I didn’t appreciate you putting words into my mouth. But I understand why you got defensive. It wasn’t fair of me to be rude just because I didn’t want to communicate needing some time to myself. I’m sorry, Prongs.” 

“I’m sorry too. Really sorry.” He runs a thumb over the arm still in his hold, eyes averting to observe the line of goosebumps it elicits with a soft smile. You fear you’re much too smitten of him for your own good. He pats the arm of the chair for you to sit on, and you comply. Looking at the partygoers around you. It’s comforting, despite longer participating in the festivities you’re still enjoying the atmosphere. 

Eventually James shifts, settling his head over your thighs with a contented sigh. He waits a beat, taking hold of your wrist and plopping your hand atop his head. You shake your head with a scoff, pretending to be irritated with his silent request. Fingers coursing through the strands of his hair once again. You catch Remus’ eyes across the room, sticking your tongue out to ward them off when he leans over to Sirius, the pair staring fondly. James doesn’t notice, hazed from the alcohol and the scent of your perfume. 

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders slows, so you lean over to meet his face. 

“Don’t fall asleep down here, Prongs. Don’t think I’m able to get you to bed otherwise.” The corner of his lip curls up despite his closed eyes, and you’re quite sure you’d be able to watch him for hours. 

“Can we go to bed, then?” 

“James Potter leaving a party early? Why, I must be dreaming.” He ignores your teasing, pulling himself off you and standing to his full height. There’s a slight wobble to him, one he has to balance by grasping either arm of the vintage chair. Consequently putting his head only inches front yours. A wave of pine and mint consumes you, along with a faint, lingering scent of whiskey. His eyes follow yours, having caught them averting to his lips. James smiles, one of his cocky, smug concoctions that urges you to smack or kiss him. Combative urges you usually tend to get when in his presence. 

“You’re trollied, Jay. Let’s get to the dorms before you lose your footing for good.” Your tone is light in teasing, missing the fall of his features as you duck under his arm and get to your feet. 

“Should we say goodnight to Moony and Pads?” The taller boy rubs at his eyes, letting you adjust the glasses he’s just pushed crooked. You look around the room, landing on the pair who are pouring another round of shots for your shared group of friends. James doesn’t notice, busying himself with fixing your necklace to bring the clasp to the back of your neck. Praying he doesn’t notice the goosebumps running over your skin, you nudge him toward the stairs with a gentle shake of your head. Knowing he’ll most definitely insist on another shot in lieu of being left out. 

“I’m sure they’ll be up soon, cmon.” He’s surprisingly easy to persuade, allowing you to take hold of his arm and guide him toward the steps. 

It’s a bit of a struggle. He’s nearly twice your size, so any miss-step he makes in his drunken stupor is a threat to both of you. 

“Gryffindor house truly is the best. Don’t you think, lovely?” A hiccup before he goes on. “I mean, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Wouldn’t have met any of my best mates had any of us been sorted otherwise.” He pushes a finger to your cheek, cocking his head when you swiftly shush him. Unaware his volume is much too loud to be this close to the dorms or your respected, sleeping peers.  A grin spreads across his face as he mimics you, pointer finger pressing to his lips as you approach his dorm. 

He collapses onto his mattress, shuffling under the covers and sighing as if the exertions’ exhausted him. 

 “Will you stay with me?” It’s almost unintelligible with his cheek pressed into the satin pillow.

“James-”

“Please?” Those puppy dog eyes again, he’s well aware of what he’s doing. You huff, fighting a smile as you discard your shoes. “You can grab a pair of joggers and whatever else you need from my drawers.” 

“I can’t stay here all night.” 

“Why not? The boy’s will be gone for hours, love. I don’t wanna fall asleep alone.” The alcohols undoubtedly loosened his lips, he wets them before continuing. “Always hated it when I was little, you know? I used to crawl into my mum and dad’s bed in the middle of the night. I’d hate waking up to nobody being there.” He turns away so you can change, pulling the comforter to the side so you’ll be able to slip in. 

“I loved my parents bed too.” You smile fondly at the memories, pulling one of his shirts over your head and admiring the emboldened, crimson, ‘Gryffindor’ lettering across your chest. “When they sent me to bed, I would sneak out of my room and wait on the steps. I liked listening to the telly when they were watching it together late at night. Always felt left out.” You both huff a laugh, slipping in next to him as he turns to face you again. 

James pushes a stray stand of hair from your face, eyes wandering over your features. You gaze up at his ceiling instead, admiring the constellations Sirius has permanently charmed on the ceiling. 

“You’re so pretty.” It’s unthinking, muttered into the darkness of the room and slipping away. Your heart thrums against your chest, and a there's beginnings of forming lump in your throat.

“Don’t, James.”

“Don’t what?”

“Say...Say things you don’t mean.” His brows furrow, offended.

“Of course I mean that. I’ve always thought it.” You press your palms to your eyes, willing emotion away. 

“I mea- I mean things you don’t intend to act on.” You fumble out, unsure of your own words and their risk. “Things I’ll overthink.” A pang of hurt shoots through his chest, but you don’t notice the own despair running over his face as you watch a shooting star pass overhead. Wishing he’d really meant it, really wanted to act on it.

“I just think you’re beautiful. That’s all.” 

“Please, Jay. This is mean.” You hate how your voice cracks, how he creates distance between you. 

Mean. He’d prefer just about any other insult in the book. Somehow, mean sounds far worse than anything else. Especially when he’s taking a chance. 

“Merlin, how is that mean?” 

“It’s just-” “Have I made you uncomfortable?” 

“No.” You’re almost incredulous, unable to imagine an instance he’d ever overstep a boundary like that. “No, of course not. That’s the issue, actually.” 

“Well...I’d like to kiss you, then. Would that prove it?” You almost choke on your own saliva, gaze snapping over to his for any signs of jest. He runs a thumb over your brow, blinking slow. 

“You’re drunk, James.” There's no cruelty to it. If anything, you seem relieved, maybe even pleased with him. Potter’s smug again, an inkling of hope igniting in his chest. 

“Sober thoughts, lovely.”

“Maybe-” you swallow, nerves stalling you. “Maybe you can kiss me in the morning, when you're sorely hungover and regretting all the beer pong.” 

“Alright.” His cheeks are beginning to hurt from smiling, so he turns on his back so he won’t be able to look at you any longer. Hoping it aids the burning desire to cement his words. “You’ll stay though. Yeah?” 

“Always, James.” 

************

You’re weighed down by something awfully heavy the next morning. Sunlight seeping through the red and gold curtains adorning the window across the room. Sirius is sprawled out on his bed just under it, most agape with slumber. You narrow your eyes, confused with your surroundings. Up until you recognize the weight as a tanned, toned arm. Pulling you closer subconsciously. James is so close his breath fans over your neck, sending chills down your spine. You make a meek attempt at biting back the grin pulling at your lips as the memories flood in. 

Though the smell of coffee beckons you from your admiration of the sleeping chaser in front of you. Seriously, how someone looks that angelic fast asleep is beyond you. Carefully, you push the greedy extremity from your waist, slipping out of the sheets and shuffling toward the common area of the dorm. 

Remus stands over the stove and tends to pans of food whilst averting his gaze to a book beside him on the counter every now and then. You considered yourself a bookworm before you met him, having been utterly humbled ny his sheer addiction for literature. 

“Morning.” Its awfully complacent, Lupin doesn’t even look at you during his greeting. Tone heavy with self-satisfaction and suggestive teasing. 

“I slept next to him, Moons. I’m not having his children.” You pour yourself a cup of coffee, eager to indulge in the boy’s expertly crafted blend. 

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“Didn’t have to.” You both turn your heads into the direction of an audible groan. James shuffles toward the both of you with his head low and shoulders hunched, grabbing at air until it connect with your mug. 

“I was drinking that.” It earns another grunt, you and Moons sharing an amused glance at the boy’s obvious hangover.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“What, too much fire whiskey for our renowned chaser to handle?” James can only gag at Lupin’s teasing, shooting him a death glare through watery eyes. You rub his back, snatching back your coffee when he leans into your touch. 

“You minx.” He mutters, betrayed. “You know I’m vulnerable.” You only roll your eyes, accepting the plate of food remus hands over with a grateful smile. James  snags a piece of your toast, desperate to soak up the liquor in his stomach and much too keen on stealing from you today. 

“I’m going to attempt to coax Padfoot out of bed. Watch the stove, y/n.” Remus  weaves around the kitchen island with his own toast hanging between his teeth, hair still tousled from sleep. 

Potter’s staring at you, unreadable expression amongst his features as he chews on his (your) food. “I’m assuming you got me to bed last night?”

“Not without difficulty.” James winces, a hand running through his hair. 

“Sorry if I was a pain, love. If I’m honest, I don’t remember much past our reconciliation.” He adorns a tight-lipped smile, guilty with a twinge of hangxiety. You only shrug, aiming to reassure him. “We’re good though, right?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking awfully adorable despite the effects of last night’s alcohol. 

Truth be told, James remembers bits and pieces. He remembers laying in such close proximity, wasted and aching for your lips on his. He can’t shake the feeling that you’re holding back. Had he made move? Had you rejected him? You couldn’t have kissed. Surely no amount of alcohol would have erased that daydream come reality. 

“We’re good, James. And you weren’t a pain. If anything, I can always count on you for being a fairly good-mannered and giddy drunk.” There’s a tilt to his head, a sudden glint in his eyes.

“Can’t say I was too well behaved, yeah?” Your eyes narrow, curious if he’s hinting at your conversation just minutes before sleep. His gaze doesn’t leave you as you approach him, standing on your tip toes so your face is mere inches from his. Just when his lids risk fluttering closed, you back away, having pulled a new mug from the shelf behind him. 

“I’d argue otherwise, Potter.” 

 “Oh?”  Oh. Are you...flirting with him? That confirms it, something had happened last night. “No usual antics then? We just, went to sleep?” Your eyes narrow at his questioning, uncovering the suspicion in his tone with ease. You decide you quite like when he’s nervous. He approaches where you’ve sat yourself on the counter. Subconsciously fitting himself in the space between your legs. Eyes averting to the pair of his sweats you have on, drowning your feet from the length on you. His heart swells with an emotion he can’t quite pinpoint, something between elation and pride. 

“What else would we have done?” You take a smug sip from the steaming cup in hand, nose scrunching in feigned distaste when he takes it from your grasp and sets it on the counter. 

“I dunno.” It’s practically a whisper, his voice still rasped from sleep as his eyes search yours. Eager to sense any sort of hesitation or discomfort on your part. Large hands graze the collar of your borrowed shirt as they reach your neck, cradling your head as if it might dissipate in his hold. You wet your lips, swallowing hard. There's an evident acceleration in both your breathing, and you’re convinced this’ll finally be it. This will finally be the moment James Potter proves to you you’re not just one of his best mates. 

And he thinks so too. 

“Don’t be worried, folks. King of the castle is very much alive and well. I know you’ve all missed me dearly in the agonizing time without my presence.” Sirius waltzes into the kitchen with remnants of eyeliner clouding the skin around his eyes with a bright smile. Bastard, no matter how much alcohol he consumes, just about never gets hungover. He stutters in his approach to the kitchen, a clear realization he’s most definitely just interrupted something. 

Prongs rips away from you like your skin has singed him, scratching at the back of his neck with poorly executed nonchalance. Embarrassment looks bad on him, but likely worse on you. Considering how stupid you must look with such hurt flashing over your face. 

Maybe its a sign, an indication from some higher power this isn’t meant to be. Considering James’ breakaway from the embrace, it seems as though this was merely a heat of the moment occurrence. But you don’t do casual, and you definitely don’t jeopardize years of friendship for some crush that just may actually be unrequited. 

You’re off the counter and awkwardly adjusting the much too big clothes swarming you as Remus reaches the group of you. He takes one look between the three of you, silently snatching the newspaper in lieu of the crossword, and slipping back into the bedroom.

“Did I-”

“No!” James and you are shaking your heads with feigned laughter before Sirius can even finish. Mirth settles comfortably on his dark features, crossing his arms with raised brows. 

“I was just gonna ask if I missed the doorway for a cup of coffee.” Prick doesn’t even attempt to hide his glee, ignoring the daggers James bores into him with his now murderous hazel eyes. 

“Still plenty left in the pot, Pads.” You tuck invisible strands of hair behind your ears, ignoring James’ shift of attention that lingers on your frame. He looks like he’s about to speak, but you’re already turning toward the front door. 

 “Jay,” despite the nickname, there’s no lift to your tone like before. “I have to go. Fluids, today. Or you’ll feel like shit for even longer.” He nods with a mock salute, fully aware he’ll perpetually be feeling like shit for a completely different reason. 

You shout a farewell to Remus, and a pleading smile to an awfully merry Sirius before slipping out the door. Rushing down the hall and toward the girl’s wing without a second thought. 

Black shoves the slightly taller boy in front of him in a fit of exasperation. Fed up with his bumbling idiot of a best mate. 

“You’re a coward, Prongs. Really.” James shrugs him off, recounting your proximity mere minutes ago with an overwhelming surge of glee. He smirks despite it all, biting back the oncoming lovesick grin.

“You know, she’s the only one that calls me Jay?”

“Merlin, you’re hopeless.” 

***************

There’s a knock at the door as you reach for your lavender-scented body wash, closing one eye to avoid the trail of shampoo threatening to run into it. 

“It’s unlocked Marl’s, just come in.” You assume it’s one of your roommates of course, but are shocked at the voice that sounds from the other side of the door. 

“It’s me, actually.” James presses his forehead against the cool wood of the bathroom door, reconsidering whether or not he should actually go through with this. 

“Who’s me?” He feels like a fucking moron. 

“Oh, uh, James.” A wince, an oncoming urge to bash his head into the door to knock some sense into himself. 

“James?” You tug on both sides of the curtain to ensure it covers the entirety of the shower. “Um-”

“I’d wait for you to be out but,” the chaser rolls his shoulders, unaccustomed to such lack of self assurance. “This is sort of urgent.” And now he sounds like a perv, swell.

“Everything alright? Just come in, I can barely hear you.” He does as told, knocking over your array of skin care products set up on the counter because he’s shielding his eyes. You poke your head out to watch him scramble with the bottles, dropping one as soon as he grasps another. 

“Shit. Fuck, sorry. So sorry.” You can’t help but laugh, eyes narrowed in endeared disbelief as his gaze stays trained on the floor, unable to even glance in your direction. When it’s finally settled, he gathers what little dignity he has left to sit with his back against the ledge of the tub. 

“I’m sitting, is that alright?” 

“Its fine, Jay. What’d you need?” And there it is again. Fuck, are you doing this on purpose? A quick shake of his head, and he scoffs despite himself. The only answer his mind can manage is ‘you’ but he figures that’s likely not the best start to this. 

“It’s just, I can’t stop thinking about last night.” He wets his lips, wringing his hands together. “I feel like I may have said more than you let on.” 

You hum, biting back a smile. “Said something you regret?” It’s playful, but the subtle worry in your tone is most definitely there. Potter knows you better than that. 

“What? No. Merlin, no. If it’s what I think, then definitely not.” The grin wins this battle, you ensure all the suds have been rinsed out of your hair before you peek your head out. 

His eyes are still screwed shut, despite his back facing you. He’s tense, body hunched in an attempt to make himself smaller. Though it doesn’t do much. You feel particularly fond of him, just then. Committing this frame to memory. 

“And what do you think it was?” 

“You’re making this sort of difficult, love.” You figure you’ve tortured him long enough. Though it's what he deserves, considering he's left you with bread crumbs the entirety of the past year. 

“James?” He’s barely heard it with the combatting sounds of the running water, but it was there. Soft, sweet, enough to have him wishing you’d say it a million times more, and then some. 

“Y-yeah?” He lets you tilt his head back, his jaw clenching with the tension. You bend at the waist, ensuring not to drop any water on him whilst clutching the curtain tight against your frame. 

And just like that. In the middle of the muggy, steam-ridden bathroom. You kiss James Potter. 

It’s a little awkward in this position. Though he’s so tall you’re not completely bent down, it’s straining for both of you. Which is why you finally decide to reluctantly pull away, his hand taking hold of your jaw to pull you back for a couple swift kisses that unleash a hoard of butterflies throughout your stomach. 

“You said you wanted to kiss me,” your lips hover over his as you whisper. Pulling completely away to preserve your racing heart. Potter scrambles to his full height, adjusting his sleeves because he’s unsure of what to do with his hands now that they’re not on you. 

“Can. thank the whiskey for the confessions, I presume.” You giggle, and he has to fight the urge to shoot his gaze toward you at the sound. “You’re so pretty. I always thought so.” It’s unthinking, rushed out because the shared silence discomforts him. He feels like an idiot again. But you’ve scrambled up any sense of his ego or wit and he’s a mess. “Thought I should say that.” He’s not entirely sure how to clarify how he feels without accidentally professing his all-consuming love for you. Might come off a bit strong, he thinks.

“Oh, you did. A few times, actually.” Potter groans, pressing his palms into his eyes and bowing his head to shield his flushing cheeks. You laugh even more. 

“Have mercy on me, sweetheart. Please.” Its your turn to flush, unaccustomed to the new pet name. James cocks his head after a beat of silence, arm over his eyes to face you without actually being able to see you. “Ah, you liked that one. Didn’t you?” 

“Piss off.” 

“In just a minute, sweetheart.” He’s awful, straightening with pride when you can’t muster a witty response to the teasing. “Can I just have one more kiss?” He steps closer, hoping he won't trip considering the lack of sight. “And when you’re finished up, I’m taking you out.” 

“Hogsmeade?” Your voice lifts with excitement, forcing a smile from him. 

“Whatever you want.” He searches for you, lips jutted out pulled into a frown when you let him chase air. His hand goes out, aiming find you but quickly reminded of your current state of undress. It drops immediately, fists clenched and then releasing. “Must you make me suffer even more?” You roll your eyes, pressing a peck to each corner of his mouth and then his jaw. Pulling the curtain between you just after. “Wh-what was that?”

“Another kiss.” You note simply, going for your conditioner. “Kisses, actually.” 

“We’ll have to work on that definition, dove.”

<3 Masterlist <3

[georgipopovich-voiceblog]

Life of the Party

Georgi and Female Reader are attending a party at Viktor Nikiforov’s house and are staying the night. While changing, Y/N questions the costume Georgi picked out for her. However, Georgi is determined to make sure you enjoy yourself with that costume.

MINORS DNI (18+only) TW: Fingering, female orgasm, public sex (if you squint hard enough) pet names, “Kitty” and “Little witch”

Music is already playing downstairs? That means people have started to arrive. Viktor was kind enough to let them stay the night… considering you two will be drinking heavily from a Russian “Bitch’s Brew” that has been planned for months. Although, you’re not quite sure you want to be here anymore, especially after you saw what Georgi had picked out for you.

“Ugh.” You groan into the air loudly as you stare into the mirror. “Gosha, do I really have to wear this?” If anything, you think it’s fairly revealing for a couples costume. The fishnets hug your thighs tightly, the skirt barely goes past your rump, and the black ruffles beneath it almost feel like it might be hard to get into the car.

“Y/N…. sweetie…” Georgi’s voice muffles from the bathroom as he applies his makeup. “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to dress up.” When he opens the door, his toothy smile is introduced with a gentle purr. It’s clear from his loving blue eyes that he adores it. Though, he’s one to talk. He’s used to tight fitting costumes with tons of flair. “But if you don’t, I’ll just be a cat. And I’m alright with that.”

You stare a moment at his costume, noting how the black shirt stretches over his skin adoringly, and his own fishnets on his thick thighs match yours. If anything, you wished he would get a skirt on to match yours too. Although, the Russian skater couldn’t be bothered with whatever costume you picked out. He’s theatrical, almost too much. He’s one of the few male skaters who adorns his face with flashy makeup for his routines. Even now, he’s wearing black lipstick to match that charcoal smoke that he’s put on his eyelids, pointed sharp enough to kill a man.

“Y/N, you’re staring.” He smirks, and does a little turn.

A warmth covers your cheekbones before you turn around and look back in the mirror. “Can I stay up here in my pajamas? Or maybe just wear my jeans?”

“Zoloste, you can wear whatever you like… I just chose this costume because I think you look like an absolute angel in fishnets and a mini skirt… are you feeling self conscious?”

“Never.” That’s a lie. Your thighs may be the love of Georgi’s life, almost as much as yourself, but showing up to a party with olympic skaters, all of which have bodies like gods, it makes you wonder if you would stick out.

Georgi approaches behind, sighing happily as he looks to your reflection, almost as though it gave him an entirely new outlook. “Well, that’s a good thing, Zoloste… for you see, if I knew that costume made you any bit uncomfortable, I might have to rip it off, punish it for making you unhappy.”

Y/N snorts, and looks up at the tall athlete’s face. “You’d do that?”

“In a heartbeat.” He answers honestly. “But that means you won’t have a costume. All you have is your jeans and your pajamas.... Unless… you plan on going as a nudist to Viktor’s party…? Maybe instead of going as a cat, I’ll go as someone who gets to show off their incredibly hot partner.”

Your head whips around, and you reach up to gently shove at his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“I am….” He hums as he leans over you. His tall stature curves to meet your face, barely letting the distance close between you. “Mmm…. I’m halfway convinced to show you how this lipstick doesn’t smear…. Tell me, think it’ll rub off on your lips?”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the cold of the mirror against your back. Georgi, this insatiable beast, never missing a chance to worship you. If it was up to him, you would never wear clothes, he would take you anywhere, and unabashedly hold your legs open to the world. “….You’ll mess up my lipstick.”

“I wasn’t talking about those lips.” He said it so casually, as though he was simply correcting you on directions in the car. But no, instead he was making the spring in your gut coil.  It seems he knows this, because Georgi presses his clawed hand against your waist as he brushes his black lips to your purple ones. “Come now, sweetheart…. Why don’t you give your kitty a treat? You can choose for it to happen now, or happen at the party.”

The hand slides down, further, further until it catches the lip of your waistband, and before you know it, you can feel the black almond nails between your legs. Like you were giving him a soft mention of permission, your thighs fall apart, and just like that, those panties are moved aside, and his finger found what it was looking for, swiping the soft lips that were slowly growing wetter by the second. His thumb in particular seems to find exactly what he’s looking for, circling around your sensitive nub. Immediately, the motion sends shivers down your spine, already so cold against the glass he’s pressed you to.

“Is this for me…?”

“Georgi….” You coo softly, eyes softening.

“Do I look like a Georgi?” He asks, taunting by halting this finger’s motions.

“...K….Kitty…..” You whisper out, almost already out of breath.

“Good…” Georgi smiles, before he slides his fingers back down, until he manages to catch a long digit against the slick warmth of your cunt. He gently pushes that finger in, his thumb now massaging right beneath your clit, just to taunt you from getting what you want. “Your kitty cat’s going to give you a choice. Would you like to play here….? While people are gathering downstairs? Close enough that they might even hear you…?”

Embarrassingly, you can’t help the flutter around his finger, and you know deep down… you cannot hide that reaction.

“So… my sweet little witch wants to be played with at the party….? How adorable….” He whispers. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me how fucking dirty you are…?”

You pout up to the dark haired Russian, and cover your cheeks with your hands. “I’m not.”

“Are you sure…?” His breath begins to trail across your soft cheeks until his lips reach your ear. “Because you’re so wet just with one finger inside you. I bet I could make you cum without taking this costume off.”

Georgi’s challenge takes you a moment to think about, mostly because his hand is starting to gently pump against you. “K-Kitty!….I’m...g..gonna break the mirror like this.”

“Mmmn… I’ll buy Viktor a new one if he misses it.” He hums. “Or better yet…….” With a swift motion, you’re pulled against him, and turned, his hand still spearing your sloppy cunt as he plops you both on the edge of the bed. Your eyes manage to catch the way the mirror trembles now that there isn’t a weight, before it stills on your image. You haven’t closed your legs, in fact, you’ve seemed to let them drop apart eagerly as his wrist pins your skirt up, and the shimmer of your white slick begins to dampen the fishnets. “Theeere we go, little witch.”

“K-...Kitty! They’re going to rip!” You whine.

It’s fixed almost instantly. Georgi uses his other clawed hand to tear the fabric that rubbed against the back of his busy digits. “There…. Now I have better access.” He hums as he slips another finger in. The second finger almost felt like heaven between your soft legs. It causes your head to dip back against his broad shoulder, letting out a shaken breath. “O-Oh, god… Kitty….”

“Only two fingers, and I can already feel you shaking. Is that all it takes?”

“Y-Yes...Yes…” You whine. “I-I can’t help it…”

“Awww… sweet baby… I’ve got you, Y/N, come on now…. I want you to look up at the mirror for me.”

“B-But….”

“Do it.” he demands, pushing a third finger in.

Obedience is fucked into you, the moment you felt the stretch, you absolutely need to see how it must look to get stretched like this. The sight itself is just as beautiful as you think it would be. You swallow his fingers like your poor cunt is starved for the sensation. His palm gently rubs against your clit, but that warmth is nothing like the sensation of his curled fingers inside you pressing on that button you love so much. You’re unrecognizable, a moment ago, you were wondering what shade of purple would go better with this costume, now you’re watching his hand piston against you as he watches over your shoulder at your reflection. Your juices are dripping out like a waterfall now, soaking your thighs and his. Your eyes are clouded, and your voice strains to keep quiet.

“Come on, Y/N, be my good little witch… cum on my fingers, baby….” Georgi whispers against your neck.

Obedient little witch. You feel your back arch against his body as that coil finally breaks. You don’t want him to stop, but somehow, the sensation of three fingers pressing harshly into you is too much to concentrate on. You wanted to call his name, you wanted to hold back, you wanted to wait to cum for a moment longer just to hold off on going downstairs, but you can’t. Your opened legs finally spring shut, as though to keep his hand in place while you clenched down on him. The white creaminess that drips out of you soaks his hand, and with a sob in your heavy breaths, you forget you’re not alone for a moment.

Georgi hushes against your neck, nuzzling softly as he lets his hand become swallowed between your thick thighs. “That’s it, little witch… that’s it…. Shhhhhh…… Y/N, I’ve got you…. Ride it out…” He whispers. “You did such a good job, baby…. So good… so good…”

Finally, you begin to catch your breath, coming back to reality as you look back to Georgi’s face. “G-...Georgi…” You whine softly. “Y-You r..ruined...my...fishnets….”

“Good.” He smiles, pulling his hand up once your legs finally free it from your fleshy prison. He pops them in his lips, and begins to lick them clean. “Mmmnn…. Now everyone will know you were good for me.”

[americancowgirl19]

Nobody to Somebody

Summary: You started in Riley’s newborn army and now you’re moving up to Volterra, Italy.

Warnings: violence, hints of possessiveness, fluff, 

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Felix, Demetri, Jane, Alec Volturi x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,114

A/n: Might make more parts to this, idk. Also, I know that Alec and Jane are supposed to be really young but I imagine them as older teenagers. Also, Alec and Jane are not mates. The guard are not mated together they just share you, the reader, as a mate. So, no incest.

Masterlist

You were a nobody. Honestly, you had nothing to do with the drama of the supernatural world yet you were still pulled into it. You were innocently driving through Seattle to Mount Vermont when you were killed. 

Riley had dragged you out of the motel parking lot and bit you in the neck. The pain is indescribable. You screamed so loud yet nobody came to your aid. When the torment stopped a different pain started. A hunger that could only be satisfied with the blood of humans.

You turned into a completely different person within a span of a couple hours. You were stronger, faster, and deadlier. You were put into a group of others like you. It was a constant battle for survival. Everyone fought for their food. Everyone fought to be higher on the pecking order. Everyone fought you.

You were at the top, just below Riley. You weren’t in charge of anything but you certainly were the strongest. Those with the balls to go up against you found themselves dismembered before they could touch a hair on your head.

You were one of the few that were gifted. You had the ability to control people. You couldn’t control their thoughts. No, you controlled their bodies. You could force anybody to do anything and they couldn’t fight against it. At least you haven’t found someone who could fight against it. 

You could make them rip off their own arms, bite off their own tongue, set themselves on fire and burn to death. You could force two or more of them to fight themselves if you so pleased. Your ability to control made you valuable. Riley did everything in his power to keep you. 

You loved the power you had over everybody. You loved the pampering Riley gave you. You were arrogant but not quite ambitious yet. You were satisfied with the way things were, for the moment. You didn’t think about the future, you didn’t think about expanding your power. You just lived in the moment.

You were also the only one who met Victoria. She had a special plan for you. She whispered promises of grandeur that you couldn’t deny.

No longer were you the family girl that was content with a normal life. No longer were you the girl who was satisfied with being in the background. No longer were you the girl who wouldn’t harm a fly.

No, now you were the girl who killed anybody who got in the way of what you wanted. You were the girl with power and riches. As far as you were concerned, you were on top of the world. You could take anything you wanted and as the months passed, your ambition grew. You were beginning to want more.

However, you felt obligated to help your creators with their Cullen problem. You vowed to help them. Once they were taken care of you would move on to grander things.

When the time to attack the Cullens came, Victoria kept you by her side. You knew she had a vendetta against someone specifically and you were chomping at the bits to tear someone apart.

“They’re not here,” Victoria growls loudly. You growl as well wanting to join the fight but loyally stayed by her side.

“Where could they be?” You ask her. Victoria huffs racing through the woods. You pursed your lips but quickly followed after her. Riley joined up with the two of your as you made your way into the mountains.

Riley steps into view of the Cullen and human first. You observe them from the cover of the trees. The Cullen stood protectively in front of the human. She shared the same scent that had lead the other newborns into the clearing. Had all of this fighting been over this human?

“Riley... Listen to me. Victoria is just using you to distract me. She knows I’ll kill you. In fact, she’ll be glad she didn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

“Don’t listen, Riley,” Victoria pleads standing on a rock to the side of Riley. You slowly make an appearce behind your creator. The Cullen’s eye moves to you as does the humans. “I told you about their mind tricks.” 

“I can read her mind. So, I know what she thinks of you.” He tells Riley.

“He’s lying.” Victoria insists.

“She only created you and this army to avenger her true mate, James.” Your eyes go to Victoria. “That’s the only thing she cares about. Not you.”

“There’s only you. You know that.” Victoria vows him but you can tell that she’s lying. You smirk enjoying the show unraveling before you.

“Think about it. You’re from Forks, you know the area. That’s the only reason she chose you. She doesn’t love you.”

“Riley, don’t let him do this to us. You know I love you.” Victoria promises. You watch Riley curiously. You could sense the doubt in him but then he goes to attack. You flinch and move away when a wolf comes and chomps on Riley. Your eyes scan the area for more wolves not wanting to fall victim to one of them.

“You won’t get a chance like this again!” Your head turns back to the Cullen and Victoria. He continues to taunt her while you turn your focus to the human. You take a few slow steps toward her until her eyes catch yours. Your gaze hardens as you try to control her. Your intrigued when you find her just standing there when she should be choking herself.

You step back into the tree when the human moves with her vampire. You wanted a good fight but you also wanted to observe. Everything made sense now. Victoria wanted revenge for the death of her mate while the vampire tries to protect his. I guess even as a deadly vampire you’re still a romantic. You weren’t quite sure who you wanted to win.

Riley came back into view, you briefly wonder about the wolf. He and Victoria gain the upper hand until the human cuts herself with a rock. Your eyes instantly go black and all you can think about is the blood. Before you know it you’re running for her but her mate grabs you and throws you into the woods.

By the time you return you gain control of yourself. You had been working hard on control when you found out you were stronger and more dangerous with a clear head instead of being controlled by animal instincts.

“Victoria!! Victoria!” Riley screams, breaking your concentration. You felt bad for Riley and took a few steps toward him before you stopped yourself. 

Riley and Victoria knew you wanted to branch out on your own but that didn’t mean they would let you go without a fight. You knew how valuable you were to them. Nobody gives up their strongest player. 

You didn’t want to be the one to kill him, you still felt the slightest connection to him for turning you. However, while the connection makes you not want to kill him it doesn’t necessarily compel you to save him.

You smirk, stepping back from the scene. You would let the wolf take care of your problem. You hoped that the other vampire would take care of Victoria as well. Then, you’d be free and could do whatever you wanted.

You look away from Riley and back toward Victoria. You were pleased to see her losing the fight. Only when you stopped hearing Riley’s screams and saw Victoria’s head on the ground did you turn to leave the scene.

“Wait!” The Cullen calls after you. You turn your head ever so slightly.

“I have nothing against you and your family. I won’t cause any trouble.” You promise him.

“I know,” He nods, stepping closer but keeping his body between you and his mate. You smirk slightly knowing he could stop you from getting to her if you truly wanted too. “I can help you.”

“You help me?” You tilt your head. “Oh? How so?”

“You want power, you want to be at the top. Have you heard of the Volturi?” He asks.

“No.” You answer, your eyes narrowing.

“They’re vampire royalty. They’ll be at the clearing to assess the damage. You can leave with them, join their coven.” He tells you. You stare at him.

“And what do you get out of this?” You wonder.

“Time.” He says, turning his head toward his human mate.

“I’ll stick around, doesn’t mean I’ll go with them.” You say before leaving them on the mountain. You find the clearing and unsurprisingly see all the newborns dead.

“Wait! Don’t hurt her!” A woman with short hair shouts when you walk out of the forest. You eye the wolves and the Cullens cautiously. “The Volturi will be here shortly.” You slowly nod. Eventually The two from the mountain join you. You watch as a stray newborn almost kills a wolf before the drama seems to end.

The Cullen clan stand together. You notice Bree standing behind them. She had been in the army. She was one of the lower vampires, a vampire that didn’t do much. You’re slightly surprised that she survived.

You don’t have much time to dwell on Bree when something catches your attention. Four distinct yet mouthwatering scents. Scents that tempt you more than any amount of fresh blood. You can just feel your eyes darkening even more.

Four figures in cloaks enter the clearing. The two in the middle wear midnight black ones while the outside two sport charcoal grey robes. They lower their hoods and their ruby red eyes fall on you at the same time.

Your instinct is to move to stand by them, your body even shifts toward them but you’re hesitant. You don’t know how to act. You don’t know what to do. Logic tells you that your scent appeals to them as theirs does to you but you hesitate nonetheless.

Seeing the conflict in your eyes, the furthest from you, the shorter of the two in the grey cloaks, holds his hand out in your direction. There’s a sly yet inviting smirk on his face. Your body reacts before your mind. You rush in front of him, your hand instinctively falling into his gloved one. He yanks you into his chest, his arm snaking around your waist.

Both of your heads fall into each others neck. You both breathe in each others scent but he’s the only one brave enough to place a gentle kiss on your marble skin.

“Impressive,” A melodic voice reaches your ears. You pull from his neck to look at her. He refuse to release you forcing you to shuffle around in his arms. 

When you’re settled, his grip tightens forcing you impossibly close. With your back pressed against his chest, you watch the exchange between the Cullens the the cloaked vampires you assume to be the Volturi. Any anxiety that may have been present disappears the longer you’re in his arms.

“I’ve never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact.”

“We were lucky.”

“I doubt that.”

“It appears we missed an entertaining fight.” Your eyes shift from the blond girl to the one beside her. You wanted to be closer to them but you didn’t want to leave his arms. You didn’t understand and the unknown was frustrating you.

“Shh,” He whispers in your ear as he senses your growing distress. “Just a little longer.” He promises bumping his nose against the side of her head.

“It’s not often we’re rendered unnecessary,” She mentions.

“Had you arrived a half an hour ago you would have fulfilled your purpose.” You glared at him as he spoke to her rudely. Before another work could be exchanged you broke his arm without lifting a finger. He tries to hold in his groan but everyone picks up on it. Naturally, everyone looks to the blond on your side of the field but you just stand there with a satisfied smirk.

“You missed one,” The attention turns to Bree.

“We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender.”

“That wasn’t yours to offer,” She tells him. “Why did you come?” She asks but Bree doesn’t answer. Your eyebrows instantly raise when the newborn falls to the ground screaming. You look to the blond beside you and realize why the all mistook the vampires pain to be her doing instead of you. “Who created you?”

“You don’t need to do that, she’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“I know,”

“I-I don’t know,” Bree whimpers. “Riley wouldn’t tell us. He said that our thoughts weren’t safe.”

“Her name was Victoria, perhaps you knew her.”

“Edward, had the Volturi had knowledge of Viktoria they would have stopped her. Isn’t that right Jane?”

Jane. A name so simple yet so perfect for the beautiful blond. You found yourself desperate to know more about her. To know more about all of them.

“Of course,” Jane assures them.

“Whatever Bree doesn’t know, Y/n will. She was in the thick of it with Victoria and Riley,” Edward tells them. The cloaks look at you but you keep your hard stare on Edward.

“You wouldn’t be suggesting something about our mate, would you?” The man equipping the midnight black cloak questions Edward, his voice edgier than before. As he spoke, the man holding you tightens his grip even more.

Mate. Of course the logical part of you knew but to say it out loud and to accept that it’s real is something else. You wanted to feel relief that they acknowledge that you’re their mate but you can’t help but to feel tense. They’re weren’t reacting to Bree very well and you had done more damage than she ever has. How would they treat you?

“No, of course not.” The leader of the coven promises before sending Edward a look.

“Felix,” Jane says, turning her head slightly toward the tallest. 

“She didn’t know what she was doing!” Jane stops Felix. “We’ll take responsibility for her.”

“Give her a chance”

“The Volturi don’t give second chances,” Jane states causing your body to go tense. The man holding your nuzzles shamelessly into the crook of your neck. You can hear him purring quietly. It helps calm you down but the anxiety in your chest lingers. “Keep that in mind, Caius will be interested to see that she’s still human”

“The date is set.”

“Take care of that Felix. I’d like to take our mate home.” Jane says. Felix glances at her then to you before moving to take care of Bree. You flinch when Bree’s screams abruptly stop.

“It’s alright,” The man holding you whispers. “Come on.” He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you out of the clearing. You follow them, leaving the Cullen’s behind without a second thought. They don’t stop until you reach an airfield where a private jet is waiting for you.

You take a moment to stare at it. You’ve never been on a plane before. You wonder where they’re taking you but you keep your questions to yourself. You figured you could count your lucky stars you didn’t end up like Bree, now isn’t the time to push your luck.

You knew that if you needed too you could destroy all of them but the thought of putting them through any sort of pain is displeasing to you. In fact, you hated the thought of them in pain. You knew you would destroy anybody who harms them. Though, this meant you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself against them should they decide to tear you apart. You’d much rather choose death.

“You’re thinking very hard,” You turn to look at Jane. You hadn’t even realized that the five of you had boarded the plane. “You must have questions for us.”

“Umm... Names would be a nice start,” You say, surprised by how quiet your voice is. The last few months you’ve had to be authoritative and demanding yet now you’re quiet and walking on egg shells.

“Of course,” Jane says giving you a gentle smile, a complete contrast to the girl you had seen in the clearing. She still seems reserved but she’s also more relaxed. “I’m Jane and this is my twin, Alec. That is Demetri and Felix.”

“Y/n,” You introduce yourself.

“You’re still tense,” Demetri notices. He sits beside you and rests his hand on your leg. “What worries you?” You look at him for a moment debating if you should keep your worries to yourself.

“No harm will come to you,” Alec promises. Your eyes turn to him. He notices the subtle relief in your posture. “We would never allow anything to happen to you. You’re safe with us.” Demetri leans over and kisses the side of your head as Felix sits besde you, the twins occupying the seats across from you.

“I thought you didn’t give second chances?” 

“You’re special,” Jane tells you. “You’re our mate. Our masters will be forgiving toward you.”

“Masters?”

“How much do you know?” Demetri questions.

“Up until yesterday I thought we burned in the sun,” You tell him. “I don’t know much of anything and I’m sure whatever I do know is most likely wrong.”

“When were you turned?” Felix asks. “We’ve been watching the army for a few months but we never smelt you.”

“Victoria and Riley liked to keep me separate from the others. I’ve only been a vampire maybe 5 months? I was only allowed with the others if they were getting too rowdy and needed to be knocked down a peg or two,” You tell them with your naturally cocky smirk.

“Oh? And what did you do?” Demetri questions.

“I can control people. I can make you do whatever I want,” You tell him.

“So, you could make someone shut up when they talk too much?” Felix smirks sending a look at Demetri.

“Well, yes but I normally just make them bite off their own tongue,” You state. Their eyes return to you and you suddenly get the feeling you spoke out of turn.

“Beautiful and deadly,” Demetri hums rubbing his head against yours as if to scent you. “Perfect,” He growls.

“Completely perfect.” Jane agrees. Your eyes turn to her. “You’ll fit right in, my love.”

“And where are we going?” You ask her.

“Volterra, Italy.” She tells you. “It’s where the Volturi reside and where you will live with us.”

“Sounds fun,” You smirk, holding her gaze feeling completely unintimidated by her despite knowing what she can do.

Volterra, Italy. Sounds like the perfect place to satisfy your ambitions with your mates by your side. 

[deluluass]

misericordia

It's finally here T^T Here's to reaching 100+ followers! Thank you so much everyone!!

Content Warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; somnophilia; description of dead bodies; includes some elements of cosmic horror; dystopian-ish au; biblical references/imagery; angel! Ushijima

To name is a barren tree: fruitless and, ultimately, the workings of this kind.

  The earth will soon be without form, and void; and darkness shall remain the face of the deep. 

  The Spirit of God no longer moves in the face of the waters. 

  Names are for nothing.

  But, for any cause done here, to name is essential. As it was in the beginning, when there was still a beginning (but it has not ended yet, so the beginning shall still stay), to name had been the first task.

  So when asked for a name, the mouth was able to conjure:

  “Ushijima Wakatoshi,” the body said. 

  And as it is the way of the Created, the body became he.

  And as it is the way of the Created, proof was immediately demanded for the name. 

  And as it is the way of the Created, once found on the chest, Ushijima Wakatoshi was then welcomed. 

  You weren’t there when the world ended. 

  In fact, so, too, was your father's father. The sky had cracked open and the oceans had already split up the old lands for as long as anyone could remember. 

  Before the city became a city in truth, the people had just been strangers, seeking shelter after everything fell apart, only to be abandoned by those who’d promised protection.

  That didn't mean, however, that things got better for your lot once someone swept in and established order and peace and stability and whatever it is those at the top had to say to justify them being there. 

  If your father were to be believed, you had been sleeping in your mother’s womb, still a tiny beating heart, when the longest winter happened ("winter"; they still called it that when there had been minute differences between hot and cold).

  Supplies were short; food was scarce; so when you finally clawed your way into a world breathing its last, your mother couldn't help but bleed into the sheets until your cry outlived hers. 

  But your father barely recognized you  during his final days. That’s why when your neighbors call you a liar for saying “I was born on a Spring,” you shrug it off and think you might as well have been born on a Spring. 

  There’s no way of knowing. The story had always changed every time you asked him. 

  Sometimes he blamed you, sometimes he told you it’s not your fault. Nothing you could do about it. Spring it is, then; you told yourself. 

  Spring always looked so... different, in the drawings Granny made, anyway.

  No one here actually knows her age. Granny had always been Granny; as permanent to this place as the walls enclosing the city.

  She rarely left her quarters, that crone, and could barely stand on her own without your help. Worse, she could no longer see. What use is a blind artist, the others would laugh. 

  It’s their loss, you’d retort, mocking her like that. Because then they’d miss the way her gnarled and knobby hands would glide with unwavering purpose if you asked her to, strokes bold and not a space wasted.

  “You never learn,” she croaked once finished, jostling the wrinkled piece of paper to your lap. “Why throw away your rations for this piece of junk?”

  Granny retched, “Incurable fool.”

  At this point, she would grumble about suffering in the old pig’s (her words, not yours) kitchens for nothing, and always, without fail, you’d feel a smile break on your face. It hurt, honestly, but after an entire day of frowning over the dishes you had to wash and the floors that needed scrubbing and all the other orders yelled your way, it was worth it, anyway.

  “I know you’re laughing. My ears still work, mind you.”

  You felt your belly shake as you giggled, brushing the paper with worn fingers, staring open-mouthed at the piece before you.

  “This is amazing, Granny,” you sighed.

  “Idiot,” she repeated. “It’s the same thing as the one before. And the one before that.”

  And for good measure, Granny added, “Idiot. Not like you hadn’t seen that one.”

  When all you’d done was take her hand in yours and place a pack of food along with a thin roll of paper in her feeble grasp, Granny finally asked, “Why do you keep coming back here, girl? Asking for the same thing.”

  There wasn’t any of that surly frown now. 

  And looking at her like that, without the crabbiness that sharpens her features, that oddly makes her look younger and in control of herself, you find that you don’t have an answer this time. Arrested by the realization that her shoulders slumped lower than you’d thought. And that she’s getting thinner. 

  “Why?” you whispered back, feeling traces of charcoal stick to your palm.

  Maybe it’s because there’s no other way that she’d accept food, unless she does something in return. She kicked you out the first time you intended to give her the ration you’d earned.

  (Or maybe it's because you know what they'd do, once they find out she's no longer making trades.)

  Why, indeed. 

  Maybe it’s because you hadn’t really seen things grow before. 

  You might work at the Governor’s place, at the heart of the city and everything else that matters, but grunt workers like you are prohibited to get anywhere near the farm, let alone actually enter it. So, really, there's no other way of seeing what growth looks like.

  Maybe it’s because you can only do that when you witness her in her craft. You really don’t have anything to compare it with, but you’re sure life from soil works the same way. 

  Everything must come from something.  And that something must be quite the artist, if they're anything like Granny. 

  Birthing roots from the ground of what was once a blank piece of paper with a flick of the wrist; growing into large trunks, strong branches, then into an abundance of leaves and blossoms. 

  Trees drawn on both sides of the paper, always with a smattering of grass and flowers in the middle. She said they used to grow here, when she was just a girl. And if you begged hard enough, she’d add a stray butterfly fluttering around the corner. 

  You hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I just love seeing you, Granny,” you grinned.

  “Crock of shit.”

  “Really!” You grabbed your knapsack as you stood from your seat, folding the paper with care. “Hey, Granny, guess what? Don’t give me that face— I’ve already saved just enough and you know what that means?”

  She snorted. 

  “Listen,” you pouted. “I’ll finally be able to get those pigments! I heard they don't cost that much and if I trade next-”

  “Don’t.”

  She tilted her head and faced your way, misty eyes pinning you. "How much does paper cost you?"

  You gulped. 

  Then, with a swiftness that surprised you, she grabbed you by your tattered sleeve and gritted, “I may be the blind one here, but I think I see a lot more clearly than you do. You can sweat and bleed for those pigments, but I will never paint.”

  You felt a sting in your eyes as she continued, “I know what you’re doing. And I’d be the greater fool if I let you work yourself to the bone for some pipe dream."

  "Content yourself with coal, girl. That’s all you’re gonna get from this place. Dirt and rust and smoke. Go sneak into that damned farm. Go steal some of those fuckers’ riches. In fact, while you’re at it,” she laughed dryly. “Steal them all and run away from here. If you really want to live.”

  “Only,” she said, too soft that you had to sit back down to hear her, “Only, stop hoping, my child.”

  Her chest wheezed as she breathed, like air passing through the holes of a rundown machine. 

  You kissed the back of her hand before you left. 

  The wind howled and threatened to topple you as you walked back to your building, hard rain slapping you across the face when you picked up into a run. They didn’t descend in small drops anymore. As you get older, thunderstorms are to be expected once evening falls, lingering for weeks only to suddenly bring about an irritatingly humid day. 

  But tonight, the large cavern above that parts the dark, heavy clouds into opposite streams seem to yawn wider, closing itself lower and lower into the earth that you swore someday it’ll devour the city whole.

  Mud water in your boots, you grabbed onto your soaked coat and climbed the steps of the decaying piece of slab you call home, mindful that you won’t slip and break your skull against the thick beams, twisted metal jutting out of the corners.

  A solitary lamp flickered through the window of the room next to yours. Little Soo-jin must be having nightmares again, you thought with a frown. 

  You were about to knock on their door when the sirens blared, echoing louder across the city than the boom of lightning, followed by a grating squeal that could only be an opening gate. 

  Your knuckle froze over the chipped wood.

  The last time the alarm rang, the people were greeted by the body of a young council member, brought by a small and wounded troop who’d accompanied him outside the city. 

  Soo-jin’s mom peered through the murky window, meeting your eyes after both of you stared into the direction of the gate closest to your zone, as if seeking you for an explanation. You only gave her a shrug.

  “Someone must have died,” you said.

    “No, he’s not dead. That’s why you’re bringing food to his room, aren’t you?”

  You stared at the girl stubbornly shaking her head. 

  “I- I know, but! Didn’t you hear? They said they found him full of bullet holes and I—”

  “Even if you’re serving a rotting corpse, as long as Cook orders it, you follow.”

  It was admirable that she’s refused for this long. If it were you, you’d have been sacked the moment you opened your mouth to say no. You wiped your hand with the towel next to the sink, having finished the work assigned to you, and watched the ongoing bout in the kitchen.

  “Why can’t you just ask the others? Marga’s not doing anything!”

  “Marga,” the older woman hissed, “is with the others. Almost everyone is in the meeting room. So if you don’t take your butt up there, I’m gonna have no other choice but to tell Cook.”

  You winced. This can’t be good.

  You cleared your throat. “I can do it,” you said.

  The tray was shoved to you faster than you can drop your raised hand. You would have found it amusing, considering that you’re sure they couldn’t even recognize you, but the idea of being in the same room with a half-alive man does make you feel uneasy. 

  Not that it’s anything new for you; you nursed your father until the fever took him, after all. You just haven’t lived long enough to get used to it yet. But you steeled yourself and did your job, because it’s not as if you had any choice. 

  You prepared yourself for anything as you entered one of the many guest chambers. Bullet holes, rotting corpse, entrails held together by stitches. 

  And when you announced your presence and gripped the tray tighter so as to not spill the soup on the sprawling carpet, it’s not really surprise that caused you to stumble upon your words when you saw the man sitting on the bed.

  It’s more of an embarrassment, of sorts. 

  You must’ve entered the wrong room, you thought. You immediately checked around  to make sure no one saw you talk and almost grovel to an actual sculpture. 

  Because that’s what he was. 

  The Governor’s estate houses floors and floors of rooms that you hadn't explored yet. But there was one that, if no one would bother to keep track of the workers, you had the habit of sneaking into. 

  Thinking about what it took for this family to have all those sculptures there hurt your head, so you stopped a long time ago. You chose, instead, to just admire the marble wonders in all their beauty, always looking back down at you with majesty and pride. 

  Just as he's doing right now. 

  Chiseled torso wrapped in bandages; sharp jaw that could cut; eyes the color of olives, gazing deep.

  "That is for me."

  You snapped your head down. 

  "Huh- uh, yes? Yes!" 

  His deep voice still rumbled through you. 

  "Yes, I'm sorry," you muttered, heat rushing to your face as you placed the tray on the table next to him, inflaming when you realized he didn't mean it as a question.

  That is for me. 

  Not a question. A question means you can answer. His words brooked no other response but obedience, reminding you of your place.

  Much like those sculptures, every time  you'd spent too much time inside the room and you'd get the feeling that you're not supposed to be there, too filthy to be anywhere near what you think is the closest thing to perfection. 

  And the truth would settle on you like a heavy weight: that no amount of beauty can ever breathe warmth if it cannot live and grow. 

  The same way that despite the sunshine filtering through the floor to ceiling windows, surrounding him in blinding light as he sat on the bed, you can't shake the impression that this is the coldest this room has ever been, with him here. 

  So you anticipated his orders; a single word or maybe a glance that would tell you he wants you gone. Just either one of those and you'd run out of this room in a heartbeat. 

  But neither came. The man (you still didn't know his name) remained silent, staring at the food like they've insulted him specifically, and now he's questioning the collective audacity of the soup, bread, and bowl of fruits laid before him. 

  Maybe they don't serve those where he came from. He's from the North, after all, made evident by the small eagle etched on his chest, just above a pectoral. The last visiting Northerner you served who also bore that mark threw a rag at you (she missed) for "mixing the bathing oils incorrectly."

  You stayed in your position and asked, "Is the food not to your liking?"

  He didn't say anything, but he did shift his attention to you.

  And what a mistake that was. How does this man go about life with such a severe presence?

  "Er..is something..wrong?" you sweated, suddenly fascinated by the vases behind him. 

  Glaring back at the food, he answered with a deep "no" and breathed out. His large arms rose and fell along with it, straining the bandages around the muscles.

  Oh, right. Right.

  You perked up. "Do you need help?"

  Stepping closer to the table, you gave him a tightlipped smile and a sheepish "excuse me" before taking the spoon in your hand. 

  You scooped a thick serving of soup, your palm hanging under it, and waited.

  And waited. 

  The man looked at you the same way he looked at the bowl of fruits earlier.

  "What are you doing?" he said,  gravel-voiced. 

  You're gonna lose this job.

  Why did you think you could feed him like he's an ailing, decrepit old man? Or a literal child? He's built like he commands an army (and he probably does).

  You are definitely gonna lose this job.

  "I- I'm sorry!" 

  You jerked away, your hip hitting the table, the impact shaking it and causing the plates and silverware to clatter against each other.

  "O-oh no, I'm-" The spoon in your hand fell as you attempted to set things properly, soup spilling to the carpet along with the utensils.

  You're gonna lose this job and you're gonna starve to death.

  "I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" 

  Dropping to your knee like your life depended on it, you picked up the myriad of similar looking spoons and forks and placed them back on the tray. 

  You kept your head downwards, bowing as you'd been repeatedly taught, and shut your eyes tightly. 

  "I thought that you hadn't healed yet and needed help and- and-" you huffed.

  "And I thought that I should feed you but- no-no!" You looked at him and flailed your hands in front of you. "No! I didn't mean feed- I meant- I meant no disrespect please forgive me!"

  Not a word was spoken in that second that spanned an entire year. But just as you'd accepted that the worst has come, he said:

  "Then, feed me."

  Wait.

  Wait, what?

  "I don't.. understand..?"

  "Then, feed me," was what he told you. And so matter-of-factly, at that. 

  So you did, desperate to keep the only thing keeping you alive. 

  Though your hand trembled and you wished to be anywhere but here— even the wasteland waiting outside the gates, with all its unimaginable threats, seemed like paradise —you took a loaf of bread from the basket and brought it closer to his mouth.

  Lines marred his forehead as he chewed. You were about to ask, self-destructive that you are, whether you should get the sweetened roll instead, thinking he found the one in your hand too bland. But you don't have the luxury to risk digging your grave any deeper. 

  You kept quiet and pointedly removed him from your line of sight, choosing to count the tassels hanging off the canopy instead.

  Once he's eaten all that's left of the pastries, you dipped your hand into the bowl of fruits and took a grape in-between your fingers and, as much as you can, you steadied your hand to avoid touching his lips.

  It didn't work. 

  You shuddered at the contact, curling your toes in your boots to avoid squirming. 

  This has got to be the weirdest day of your entire life.

  Not a hint of unease was shown. He continued to close his plump lips around the tip of your fingers and crushed the fruits with pointed canines, making the hair on your body stand on end. What if he bites you? Would you bleed?

  The man seemed to like them more than bread. A sense of urgency rose within you as he went through the berries and sliced mangoes like this is the first time he's had them.

  Can't say you blame him. The last time you ate something that resembled a fruit, a real fruit, was when Granny persuaded (coerced) a young boy in her complex to steal one from his employer. That boy has a child of his own now. 

  You felt your mouth water, your stomach growl and command that you take the bowl from him and shovel its contents to your mouth, as you watched him devour the sweet and tangy meat, the smell of it sickening as it is strangely compelling.

  He raised his head and met your eyes.

  Shit. 

  The apples, you thought as you looked back down to the tray. They're the only ones left soaking in the bowl, those apples. After this you'd be out of this stuffy room and you'd laugh about this later with Soo-jin and her mom and Granny too if she's not cranky.

  You could still feel him staring at you as you fed him a slice, the apple crisp when he took a bite. 

  Juice trickled down your hand, the sticky extract tickling your arm as it slid to the crook of your elbow, and you were about to wipe it with your other hand, when you felt a wet tongue probe the gap between your fingers.

  You gasped. "Sir..!" 

  You stepped away. Tried to, anyway, but with a firm hand, a hand that's not injured, after all, he gripped your wrist and continued to suck a digit. 

  "This is- sir!" struggling out of his hold, you pleaded with him to let go, please sir let me go, even as he only looked at you, his eyes dimming when he grabbed your waist to bring you closer. 

  He licked your hand, lapping at the trail the juice left behind, and when you thought he would release you, he took your hand to pluck another slice from the bowl. 

  Your legs gave up beneath you, forcing you to sit on his stretched lap, his hard body scorching you through the sheets, as he ate the apple from your palm, slurping the leftovers dripping from it. 

  "Don't cry," Granny told you once.

  "Especially when you feel like crying," she said. "Don't cry."

  You'd never really been good at listening, but now, you decided to suck in your breath and keep those tears at bay. You can cry and laugh about all this later.

  Because you might be jobless after this, but you will certainly have a damn good story to tell over the fire once you finished kneeing him in the nuts.

  So: one.

  Breathe.

  His teeth scraped your soaked hand.

  Two.

  You rested your hand on his shoulder.

  Three.

  You braced your leg, moving it between his thick thighs, and then, as you clutched his bandages, you—

  "Ushijima-sama."

  The door swung open.

  "Pardon the intrusion, but the Council members requested-”

  It was Secretary Hara.

  “Oh."

  Secretary Hara: a lanky, dark haired man with glasses who's always at the Governor's beck and call. He was here, carrying a small stack of papers, and gaping at the scene before him.

  You and the esteemed guest. Who's still suckling at your skin. On the bed. 

  He grinned, full of humor and disgusting. “Well,” he said. 

  At least you weren't crying.

  A question, shared only by the Heavens, began when the Lord fashioned the flesh out of the dust of the ground and said,"You are made in My image and likeness."

  It was not their way, before that: to question. (One of them did, once, but that is a different story). 

  They have no need for questions.

  They hold the highest seat, below only to the Creator, unencumbered by the trappings of the earth.

  They have no need for questions.

  So it remained unasked, lingering in fragments in the House of the Lord.

  The question comes to him now.

  For the flesh is a cage. It is ephemeral and prone to decay.

  It is fitting for this kind to have it, with all their qualities bound to the material world.

  You are the very epitome of these.

  Graceless. Stumbling like a newborn foal. Too many apologies. Too many questions.

  God is not here, he thinks as you insist on asking what does not matter.

  “Is the food not to your liking?” and “Is something wrong?” and “Do you need help?”

  Indecisive, too. Reneging on your promises. You said you’d feed him and then you said you wouldn’t.

  Ushijima Wakatoshi is a mere flesh, locking inside divinity your kind would never understand. Yet he felt its tedious demands gnaw at him when he saw you. Something so impermanent should have no right for constant sustenance. 

  But he knows, just for this time, that he needs it. That’s why he tells you to feed him, as you said you would. After all, it is your way to serve. And, for all your many inadequacies, God has granted you bread and water and fruit to sate your appetites. 

  Thus, for as long as he is flesh, he will do as it tells him to. 

  When it urged for the taste of fruit, for the cloying sweetness of its juice, it is only right that he heeded its call and had his fill. 

  How dare you object. His light is brighter than yours; God has granted it so (and yet you were given the will that they never had). And even in flesh you are beneath him. You are easily held and defeated.

  The ache in his belly did not cease, each gulp he took heightening his senses, shouting for more, more, more as he took you with his tongue. And he realizes that this is what the first of your kind may have felt like when they disobeyed. The first act of betrayal.

  (For what is the wrath of God to the cries of the flesh?)

  And with that, Ushijima Wakatoshi finds, since donning this useless flesh, that it is not at all easy to gratify. 

  Not in the least.

    There are so many rules in this mansion that even Cook’s effort to batter them on your head could sometimes be futile, given that their number is just as big as this place. But, there is one, among all the convoluted and at times nonsensical decrees, that you are not allowed to forget: 

  Unless you’re among the core staff, you can never enter the East Wing. 

  The East Wing is where all the important things happen, see. It goes without saying that someone as lowly as you cannot pollute that hallowed ground.

  Today seems to be an exception.

  When Cook barked that Secretary Hara wanted you in the East Wing first thing in the morning, you had a feeling that you just might not live to see the next day.

  You didn't speak unless spoken to. You didn't look unless told to. The things you should've done much earlier.

  "How are you liking the work here so far?" 

  Secretary Hara pushed the pen to the side and leaned back against the leather swivel chair. 

  "It's a job," you mumbled, to which he only replied with a breathless chuckle. You didn't see the point in bootlicking any further. Besides, Granny hated that the most; so you avoided doing it as much as you can.

  There's only one conclusion for you here, anyway. No matter how severe the punishment. And it's back in your room, with a uniform that needs sewing for a job that you no longer have.

  He tapped his fingers against the lacquered table. "You're right," he said. "Work is work. Despite your place in this society."

  You wanted to roll your eyes. Secretary Hara has never been any of the workers' favorites (not that any of you had your "favorites," but if you could, you avoided this guy). He had this astonishing effect, too, in which he can actually bring people together. All because everyone hated him.

  He's a slimeball, is what he is. If one needed lessons in kissing ass, he was your man. 

  "Do you know why you're here?"

  You're getting fired. End of story. Now can I please just go? is what you want to say. But losing your job doesn't usually take this much time and attention. Normally, it was Cook who'd grunt "You're out" and that was it.

  So you shake your head.

  "I'm promoting you," he said. "Congratulations."

  Somewhere, beneath that condescending smile of his, is a punchline that you're sure he's deliberately keeping from you. Just so he can be the only one who gets to laugh.

  "I-" You balled your hand to a fist. "Why?"

  He scoffed. "What are they teaching you in that rathole? Honestly."

  They taught me not to be rude to people I don't know, you little bitch.

  "Drop the coy act, it's okay," he sneered. "It's cheap and it won't work on me."

  Oh, now you really want to get fired. If only to kick his teeth in. "That man," Secretary Hara continued. "Ushijima Wakatoshi. You were all over him and you seriously don't know who he is?"

  You gritted. "Secretary Hara, what happened- it wasn't- I didn't want it."

  But he only gave you that look. As if to say, "Sure. Let's go with that." When it'd pass and the need to pummel him became stronger, he stood up and stepped towards the tapestry draped against the wall.

  It was a map, the city a pinprick on the corner. Secretary Hara faced it, dusting the spotless surface, his back to you.

  "Ever wonder what keeps us here?" he started, hand still on the map. "This city of ours?"

  "The," you licked your lips. Where was he going with this? "The river..?"

  Secretary Hara clapped his hands, his voice lilting like he's talking to a toddler as he said, "That's right. That's good. Excellent."

  "So you do know some things, after all." His fingers crawled towards the long line of blue stitched beside the city. "And do you wonder what would happen if, say, that river begins to dry?"

  You felt your eyes widen. You covered your mouth with a palm. 

  You're not supposed to know this. Why is he telling you this?

  He scratched the thick clump of blue thread and continued, "These great cities. They have their energy; their military." 

  Your eyes followed his hand, moving farther and farther away from the pallid brown surrounding your city, towards the bright yellow West, stopping at the bright green East. "Some of them are blessed enough to not be surrounded by a literal desert."

  Then, with a careful hand, he moved to the very top and said, "And the North…the North has it all."

  The North was a sprawling, intricate web of threads, eating away the entire tapestry. 

  "The Ushijima clan rules the North. Much longer than this city has existed. And they’re so engrossed in their wars that they’d never glance our way if we don't give them at least half of what we make,” he spat. “These great people haven’t had contact with us in years."

  Secretary Hara finally turned around, grin still in place. "But now one of them owes his life to us." He walked back to his desk, sitting on its edge. "Perhaps the heavens sent him here."

  When you remained silent and looked at him with eyes that you wished had the ability to kill, because you know now what they wanted from you, Secretary Hara only shrugged.

  "He asked for your name, actually," he said, tilting his head. "Lucky you. He didn't bother to learn ours."

  You stood your ground. "No, sir," you said. "I won't."

  He pulled a thin piece of paper from a pile sitting next to him. "You're not gonna do much," he said as he began to read. "Just show him around the city. Be his friend."

  Friend. 

  "But I- No. I can't." You stepped forward. "Please." 

  He looked away from the paper. "Zone 42. Room 0312."

  "What.."

  "Granny," he said. "That's what you call her, isn't it?"

  No.

  "They say that for a blind old lady she's still somehow miraculously trading to keep a roof over her head."

  Phantom touches crept to your arm, slick and nauseating like cold sweat.

  "You must take it from her. Though you're not related," he said.  "Apparently, you're so hardworking, you even work the night shift. When you don't have to."

  You released a shaky breath. "I'll..I'll start," you croaked. "I'll start right away, sir." 

  Secretary Hara folded his arms, victory plastered all over his gaunt face.

  "Thank you," he chimed. "I'm glad you understand. It's for your own good too, y'know." 

  The uniform they gave you chafed against your skin. Tugging at the sleeves did not help, the pristine fabric too coarse and stiff to budge. Your only comfort was the folded paper hidden in your pocket, fading at the edges every time you touched it.

  You have to admit, however, that you did look...well, you did look clean. Not as much as him, though. And not just in the sense that he's out of the bandages now. Last you checked, and that had been a few minutes ago, he was still sporting a couple of scars on his forehead.

  Despite that, you don't have to look behind you to know what's captured the people's attention as you strolled the capital. Or, who, to be exact.

  Some were outright ogling; some happened to glance once and then immediately looked away with a blush; some made the laudable effort to not look. 

  A mirror of what you're doing right now. 

  They gilded him with gold, which is a redundancy if you ever see one. He was wearing the most expensive pigment, something that only the Governor's family could own: a deep violet tunic emblazoned with golden vines, swirling from the middle to the collar; paired with dress pants that you could probably trade for a whole month's worth of food. 

  You kept your distance as you walked in front of him. "Just show him around the city," was what Secretary Hara told you. That didn't mean you had to talk.

  And it's not as if he had any complaints, either. He followed you through the rows of glass houses that adorned Governor's lane, not a word spoken about the sights. 

  Even when you'd attempted to speed through the dizzying streets, he kept his pace, long legs allowing him to stride close to you. By time you'd reached the plaza, you were already out of breath and in need of rest. 

  But you didn’t. 

  You remained standing a few feet away from him, the paper in your hand opened to reveal those great trees and thriving field, as he sat under the gazebo overlooking the square; a place reserved only for council members. 

  The smell of the sweetmeats and oranges in front of him reached your nose (Secretary Hara has a cruel sense of humor, you belatedly realized, when you were handed a bag of food that had a note saying “treat him well”). You fought the itch to cast out what little you’ve had for breakfast.

  Children were playing around the sandbox, the staff of whatever family they belonged to guarding them. In a way, their job wasn’t that different from what you have now. 

  Except, it’s not a child you were threatened to accompany. With the feeling of his gaze burning your nape, it seems like you’re not the one doing the guarding as well. 

  And you didn’t feel every bit like the adult you are when he called your name.

  You felt frighteningly small, as you yielded with a pathetic, “Ushijima-sama.”

  He only looked at you. Those green eyes telling you exactly what he wanted. 

  People are watching. You can’t mess this up.

  “Sir,” you said, hand still in your pocket, that frayed paper your anchor. “It is improper.”

  Irritation swept through him, his sharp features harsher when dissatisfied. But you can’t give up, even though it’s sending a chill down your spine and he seems like he’s about to throttle in broad daylight. (And he doesn’t have to do much, you know. He can crush you with one hand.)

  “Why- why are you here?” you hissed. “R-really?”

  You don’t shut your trap when you have to, girl. That’s your problem.

  “Because- because I’m not gonna be your..thing.” The paper was dampening in your grip. “While you do whatever it is you do, Ushijima,” you huffed. “...sama”

  Ushijima did not blink, his stare unwavering as he turned towards the small crowd strolling below. There’s a part of you that wishes to put yourself in his place, like a king on his throne. What does the view look like from up there? Are the people beneath just multicolored ants moving from afar? 

  “A few of my kind have suddenly sided with yours,” he said. Then, briefly returning his gaze to you, “I had to see what draws them here.” 

  He linked his fingers together. “Before I do what must be done.”

  You stifled a chortle. “Do what must be done” your ass. Does that include harassing people, too? “God only knows,” you whispered.

  “You believe in God.”

  You were the subject of his relentless attention again. You groaned, averting your eyes to a small girl, probably around Soo-jin’s age, who plopped down to create a heap of sand, much to the consternation of her nanny. 

  “No,” you replied in a thin voice. 

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” Where is this question coming from? “Always seemed like a lot of work,” you said. 

  The little girl was making a castle. It’s apparent to you now that she has little pail by her side, shovel in her grubby hand. The frill of her dress caught most of the sand as she stacked them atop each other.

  “And I’m pretty sure God has more fun things to do than worry about me,” you added, just because.

  The castle reached her knees when the girl stood up. 

  "God has left," Ushijima said. "A long time ago."

  And then she kicked it. The thing crumbled to a mound, the breeze scattering it back to the sand. 

  You did chuckle this time. The Northerners sure are strange. "Really? Where’d God go?" you hummed, looking up to the sky.

  The sun was blanketed by waves of clouds, as usual. "Somewhere nicer, I hope," you sighed. 

  You closed your eyes and thought of that nicer place. It would have to be far, far away from here. Maybe it would even have those trees that Granny loved.

  "Cherry trees."

  You opened your eyes and gawked at him. 

  He was still gazing at you. 

  "You are attached to it," he told you, like it's nothing; like your heart's not wreaking havoc against your ribs with each word he utters. "On that paper."

  Pulling it out of your pocket, you stumbled to him and unfolded it for him to see. "You-  you know what this is? A 'cherry tree.' That’s what you call it?"

  "Yes." Ushijima's eyes did not leave yours. "That is the name you people have bestowed upon them."

  "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

  You didn't let him answer that because, just like the fool that Granny accused you to be, you took his hand in your trembling one and laughed, somehow managing to drag him out of the gazebo.

  It took a while before you finally let go.

  Much has changed along the way, he felt this as the air grew hotter; the sound of bustling people louder and less constrained with inutile mortal etiquette. You seemed less wary of him here. 

  The hand that held his tightly was still brushing against him, as you talked incessantly about the pieces of paper plastered across the wall. They all looked the same, yellowed and infested with mold at the edges, but you insisted otherwise.

  “See here?” You pointed to the one on the bottom. “Granny drew the leaves differently. They look like flowers don’t they? They are, aren’t they? I knew it! So they are flowers.” 

  There was a cot in the corner of the room. He sees you there in slumber, surrounded by rocks and scraps of metal and bits of gemstones held together by strings, each strand hanging on the crevices of the roof, gleaming every time they move. 

  You tapped his arm repeatedly. “Oh, oh. I put these two beside each other. Notice that the shades are different? This one is lighter while this one has more shadows to it.”

  "Do you get it now?" you asked him, expectant. 

  Humans are baffling creatures, Wakatoshi thought. Because when he said nothing, you only laughed (you seem to like doing that) and told him to “follow me; hurry.” You didn’t hold his hand this time (you should’ve, he preferred it when you did).

  “My bad. I hadn’t shown you yet,” you huffed as you grabbed a rag and set aside buckets of rainwater that obstructed his path. 

  Behind a curtain of sackcloth and ashes, draped at the furthest side of the wall, was a crack big enough to let a person through, corroding steel bars protruding along the broken concrete. 

  Wakatoshi ducked to enter the room next to yours. It was hollow, save for bits of gravel and a window obscured by dust. You paced to it then wiped the thick glass with the rag you brought with you.

  “That hill is always there in Granny’s drawings,” you said, taking the paper in your pocket and setting it parallel to the scene revealed by the window. 

  Your smile was wide, as if you were admiring a land lush with vegetation, or wildflowers at least. When it was far from that. It was a vast desolation, beyond the gates and the brown earth fractured. But, just as you said, there is a solitary hill sitting along the horizon.

  “Those trees- cherry trees,” you started, face radiating with mirth. “It’s the same but.. different each time.” Your breathless laugh makes him feel just as winded. “How is that even possible?”

  “I know they can’t be just...green.” A finger traced the outline of the leaves. “Because these are real and they actually grow and- and they change.” And, as if it’s a secret, “Unlike the ones at the capital.”.

  “If only Granny would paint them for me,” you whispered, the smile on those lips waning. 

  Wakatoshi couldn’t stand it. So, he grunted, “You are wrong. This one is green.”

  He took the paper from your hand. “They only change colors once they bloom. White, first. Then, pink.” 

  This knowledge is trivial; if it can be considered knowledge at all. It is a speck in the infinite matters that simply exist— have existed, in this world. Yet such a thing has put that look in your eyes. 

  Perhaps it is not inconsequential at all.

  “Pink?” you breathed, grinning incredulously at him. 

  You turned away and closed your eyes, your voice cracking as you murmured, “I see.”

  There's a blood pumping organ within his chest. A vital piece that keeps you humans alive. It beats constantly, never ceasing. If it does then it means you are dead. He is flesh, for now; it follows that if it halts, then he is fodder for the earth.

  How is it, then, that he is still here? He’s sure he felt it stop, the air knocked out of his lungs, as you looked back at him, eyes welling with tears when you said, “Thank you.”

  Thank you, you told him, smiling.

  Ah. 

  Wakatoshi gets it now.

  This is what God must have seen, when your kind looked up and sang, “I love you, my God; I love you; I love you.” And when you knelt and dared to turn those eyes for others that are not God, he suddenly understands why they were ordered to rain fire and brimstone upon your great kingdoms. 

  Because he, too, would smite anything, burn it to the ground and salt what is left, if it would so much as receive a whit of your sweet, soft words. 

  “They used to grow here,” you sniveled. “Granny said so.”

  “And I thought, maybe if Granny added a bit more color- maybe they'd feel more…I don't know..real..?” Laughter rings in his ears once again, pealing like bells. “Yeah..They'd feel more real...Though, she did get mad at me,” you winced.

  “I just thought,” you sighed, your shoulders touching him. “Wouldn't it be nice if I can wake up one day and find them growing again? Right here.”

  God created a garden for your kind once. It is gone now, but Wakatoshi wonders what you’d say, how you’d look at him, if he shows it to you. Your head against the grass, fingers laced with the lilies of the field, the taste of fruit on your lips, your thighs dripping with honey and dew—

  Wakatoshi felt his loins stir, but he didn't say anything, except, “The soil here is poisoned.”

  You snapped towards him, brows drawn together. “I know,” you said.

  “A sapling cannot grow on this wasteland.” 

  “Yes, I’m not stupid.”

  “That could have been any hill.”

  “I know.”

  His throat is parched; his hands a pair of useless things. He can hold galaxies in them, sink ships and level seas by the order of God had this body not trapped him. (He can free himself, but then you’d die). Now he doesn’t even know what to do with them as he rushes out a hoarse, “I have upset you.”

  He refused to let you take the paper from him. You didn’t seem to mind.

  “No,” you sighed. “No, of course not. Forgive me, Ushijima-sama.”

  You bowed again. An act of servitude.

  “Please, let me escort you back to the capital.”

  He does not understand. He only told you the truth. 

  But you turned your back to him and the light in your eyes has gone and he wants to chase it back the same way he wanted to run after God when the parting happened, leaving the Heavens mourning until their wails split the firmament open. 

  Wakatoshi yearns to have you closer. He yearns for that smile and laughter back on your face. 

  Wakatoshi yearns. 

  But, that cannot be. 

  After all, that is just much too human, is it not?

    The rain drenched Wakatoshi to the bone, droplets falling from his lashes to his cheeks, when he walked through the nighttime storm.

  He didn't bother to dry himself. 

  After he'd reached your room and shoved the door open, the clap of thunder covering the noise, Wakatoshi decided to undress himself, shedding all articles of clothing until he was naked as the day God created your kind.

  Wakatoshi felt the chill bite his skin. But that had nothing on the way you easily dismissed him earlier, by the time you'd reached the abode of this city's leader. 

  You left him and he could no longer see your face and yet that fierce longing in his chest stayed, creeping to every part of him, making a home in his belly.

  Until he recognized the feeling for what it was.

  Hunger. 

  Hunger, he could fathom. And when one feels it gnaw at one's flesh, what does one do, but eat?

  You were sleeping on the cot, just as he'd imagined you to be. It's enough to keep him warm: the sight of you, at peace under the glimmer of the trinkets dancing above as a lamp burned lowly. 

  The mattress sank under his weight when he sat next to you. His much larger hand took yours, locking your fingers together to rest his cheek against it, bringing it beneath his nose, and feeling his heart race as he breathed in your scent. 

  He remembers the first time he did this so vividly. You tasted like apples and sin; and though there's none of that now, his mouth still waters as he savors your skin, his tongue traveling to your arm, just as he did then, leaving bites along the way.

  You barely stirred when he lifted your shirt to reveal your tits, the sheen of sweat along the valley forcing a growl out of him.

  Do you feel it, too? When you drag him further down to earth, debasing him and bringing him so low that now he is nothing but a hungry flesh and a mouth made of obscenities. 

  "Fuck," he grunts, as he took his cock, heavy and hard to touch, and rubbed the head with his fingers.

  Perhaps he is lower than human now. Perhaps it does not matter. What is God to this hunger, anyway?

  (This hunger is bigger than God.)

  The cot was pitifully small as he straddled over your chest, breathing still shallow, and spat on his hand before wrapping it around the thick shaft. The tip of his cock touched your nipple as he fondled with the other one, thumb and forefinger pinching and pulling until you let out a tiny mewl.

  Hearing it had him falling to his knees. 

  Wakatoshi moved off the cot to kneel on the floor, the better to suckle on your tits, to lick and nibble on the skin below it, on your stomach, until he's seeing red and ripping your loose pants down to your thighs.

  He pumped his cock harder as he caressed the folds of your cunt. You groaned, arching your back and offering yourself to his mouth, when he started to lap on your clit, sticky liquid coating the swollen bud as he swirled his tongue to  spread the juices dripping from your hole.

  Your entire body was singing for him, even when all you'd managed were squirms and muted whimpers. He felt your skin twitch beneath his lips, as he cupped his balls and drove his hand faster around his throbbing cock, gripping his fist tighter.  

  Oh, he sees you on that garden, clinging onto him as he drives himself into you, pounding your cunt as you beg please, just as you did before, please, please, fuck me harder I am yours I am all yours.

  But, for now, he settles himself with the violent shudders of your body, flooding his mouth with cream, as he releases his seed on his palm. 

  Wakatoshi rubbed it against your leaking cunt, quivering still in his hand. 

  There is something that must be finished, first, before he takes you, in truth. He cannot have you conscious (for now.)

  He covered you back in your clothes, after. Then, Wakatoshi lingered on your face.

  "Fearfully and wonderfully made," he whispered, a mere guttural sound amidst the rain pouring outside. 

  Here lies salvation, he thought, as his fingers brushed your closed eyes. 

  And here, Wakatoshi thought as he brought his lips down to kiss you, here lies damnation. 

  He wiped his blood on the doorposts and lintel before he left.

    You woke up to silence.

  Your nether regions ached and, really, the temptation to not go to work today was insanely strong. But the sun was already bleeding through the window and there's a heavy feeling on your chest.

  And like wearing a shirt on backwards, you immediately knew that something was not right. 

  The sound of the door slamming open echoed through the building as you ran outside. 

  There was nothing. 

  Not the sound of people going about their day nor of children risking the wrath of their mothers with their games. The only thing you could hear was the buzzing noise of a fly circling around your ear.

  You didn't bother knocking on your neighbor's room, rushing inside to shout for Soo-jin and her mom, stopping only when you found them sitting around a small table.

  They didn't turn around to greet you.

  "There you are," you panted, putting your hands on your knees. "I'm so sorry for barging in like this."

  Even little Soo-jin, who never failed to jump into your arms given the opportunity, kept her back to you.  

  You stepped towards her. "Soo-jin," you whispered, placing a hand on her thin shoulder. 

  "Soo-jin, hey," you chuckled, your trembling fingers shaking her bit. "H-hey, what's wrong?"

  Her head nodded down, like a doll grabbed all too suddenly, then it lolled to the side, rolling until she bared her neck, until you saw her face.

  Her mouth hung open. 

  Inside the cavern were tiny black lumps that took you a second to realize were flies feasting on her molars. And when you lurched and sank to the floor, it was only then that you saw her staring back at you.

  Bleached eyes, wide and whitened to the core and pupils like spoiled milk. 

  "N-no." Your vision was cloudy, freezing dread settling at the pit of your stomach when you saw that the same happened to her mother. "Who- who did this?"

  Your voice strained out as you stood, mind moving faster than your legs.

  Granny. Go to Granny. 

  Though you already know, don't you? You don't have to see her to know her fate. Because as you sprinted out of the room, leaping down across the steps, out of the building and into sand and concrete, the smell of sulfur followed you, choking you along with the sight of bodies sprawled on the ground.

  Insects creeping out of nostrils and every other orifice, faces that you'll never have the chance of knowing and faces that you'd grown up with, hands reaching to the heaven as if at prayer.

  You are alone. You are alone in a city filled with rotting corpses. 

  There was an uncontrolled animal inside your body, fighting out of its cage in a fit of rage as you craned to look up, further up.

  The sky was on fire, the fissure in the middle gaping wider and wider and sucking in a mass of swirling clouds dipped with blood and orange.

  And there. There, look. Standing atop the towering walls.

  Beyond the heat wave was a figure, burning bright that you had to squint and you wanted to look away, you had to look away, but you can't go out like this, not without a scream and a curse at your lips.

  What did you do, you were shouting, Who are you, you were screeching, feeling the veins in your neck stretch and pop as you walked closer and closer. 

  Wings as far as the eye could see stood atop the fallen city.

  Spread out to span the horizon and folded at the middle to conceal whatever it is pointing a flaming sword towards the sun. 

  You tasted iron at the back of your mouth, but you did not stop. The earth beneath you swallowed your feet as it turned to mud with each step you took.

  And with the flap of its wings, the sound of metal banging against each other reverberated louder.

  There were children howling in pain, somewhere, behind you, in front of you, beside you. You staggered forward and for the life of you, you do not understand why you keep trying, because the ground below wasn't even soil anymore.

  It took another step before you fell.

  And it was like one of those dreams. 

  But this time you don't wake up. 

  You bawled out and thrashed your legs as water rose above you, slamming against your chest and filling up your mouth and burning your nose until it's all you could see, until you're floating in darkness and water is rushing to your lungs and you were flailing upwards, catching that spot of sunlight, but the more you kicked your feet and swung your arms, the more it tugged at your heavy legs and the less you could breathe and the further it got—  

You were sinking, the clanging of a giant bell everywhere still, as the water pulled you down, and in the deep, below the nothingness, was a massive cleft illuminated by the barest of light, slowly opening to reveal an eye, and no sound came out though you know, though you felt your throat release a shriek, horrifyingly small, so, so small compared to that glass green pupil that illuminated the darkness, rapidly contracting and dilating and then blinking as  salt and fire streamed deep in your skin, but they were looking at you from all sides, a thousand eyes flanking you and judging the weight of your soul with their unforgiving gaze as you tossed and turned in the waters. 

  I am going to die here, you thought. I will die here, you cried.

  But something was pulling at your waist and despite clawing and jabbing at it, desperate to keep it away from you as you wailed get off me get off me, it gripped you tight, hauling you upwards until you were gulping and breathing in cold air.

Through tears and the piercing cry that ripped out your throat, you felt strong, warm arms cradle you close.

  Along with a deep voice, familiar and conjuring a long lost memory. 

It lulled you into hiccups and dry sobs, gentle as it whispered. 

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.”

[blu-archer]

Cold and Comfort

Sickie: Hybrid Jungkook

Caretaker/s: Taehyung/Hosoek

Snz and comfort based. 

Poly pairing. 

Alternate universe

Magic and hybrids are a thing, this is technically a universe that I write in often but I’ll probably categorize it differently from my previous Yoonmin based one... 

I thought I’d post this since it’s been sitting in my files for a while, it’s probably not great and feels a little unfinished but I’m going through some stuff so it’s probably not going to get better than this... so yeah.. Sorry for any grammatical errors

Word count: 4894

****

Perfect. Because a storm was exactly what he needed right now.

Jungkook sniffled meekly as he burrowed his face further into his scarf, glaring tiredly at the icy rain that flooded the streets just outside the safety of the campus Fine Arts building. His studio class was technically still in session, but after trying and almost completely abolishing the wood block that he needed to carve his image into for his print media class, Jungkook was calling it quits almost two hours early.

His head and throat ached in a way that could only mean one thing, and he really didn’t appreciate the timing. 

His printing project was due in just over a week and his lecturer already had it out for him for the amount of times he’d had to skip class or post pone meetings due to clashes with his minor dancing course. He couldn’t exactly help it though. It wasn’t his fault that his schedule tended to overlap a lot.

Jungkook stepped closer to the double doors, huddling behind the one that had remained shut in order to limit the amount of cold wind that entered the building. It was pouring buckets outside. The entire sky was painted a dark charcoal grey, making everything outside seem a lot more depressing and gloomier than what it should have been. It also didn’t help that while Jungkook was quite padded for warmth, his coat and jacket were not waterproof, and he did not think to bring an umbrella.  

To be fair it hadn’t been raining when he’d left that morning.

He sighed heavy and rearranged his scarf so that his droopy, black ears managed to just slip under the material, making his neck marginally warmer. Ultimately he could wait for Yugyeom or Jaehyun to finish with their classes, while they didn’t have a car they did store umbrella’s in their lockers by the dance studio’s, but that would be a while still. And he couldn’t call any of his friends or boyfriends because they were all either working or out of town and he didn’t really want to make them come out of their way for a distance that would literally take him thirty minutes to walk through. It would honestly take them longer to get to him than it would for him to get home. He really just needed to stop over thinking the cold and rain and just walk now. He knew he was getting sick anyway, he could already feel the heaviness settling into his body, so a quick walk probably wouldn’t make it that much worse. Hopefully.

Before he talked himself out of it or his lecturer could possibly come and find him hovering in the hallway instead of class, Jungkook stepped out into the brisk and awful weather. He hugged his arms around himself and tried to stick close to the buildings so that he had some form of shelter, but there was nothing that could really shield him from the immediate sheet of icy water that smothered and drown him with each step he took.

So maybe walking hadn’t been the best idea.

His body trembled until it had finally reached a peak point of numbness about halfway back home. He had crossed over the bridge by the highway and was beginning to weave his way through the streets that held all of his favourite cafes and stores, but there was no stopping for anything today. It was like a spell had been cast over the town so that no one even thought to wonder outside. He had only seen a few cars as well, none of them stopping in their journeys – not even slowing down when passing by the soaked bunny hybrid. There was one car in particular that had driven so close to the sidewalk that the puddle it had gone through had shot up high enough to smack straight into his face. If the rain and wind hadn’t been so loud Jungkook was sure he would have been able to hear the water in his shoes squelching with each step.

He tucked his chin deeper into his chest, rubbing a wet hand against his nose as the cold caused a ticklish buzz in his sinuses. He could feel cold rivulets streaming down his ears, leaving him feeling uncomfortable and heavy headed.

He really hated the rain.

 Eventually he turned up at home, walking up the three flights of stairs with shaky caution after he’d slipped on the first few before sighing at the relief of being sheltered and indoors when he finally reached the corridor that held their shared apartment. He sniffled and shook as he fumbled for his keys, taking far longer than usual to find the right one for the door. His neighbour had passed him with a look of sympathy as she carried on to her apartment, seemingly coming back from fetching her small child from school. He accidentally dropped them when he tried to slip a key into the lock. He could feel his neighbours gaze one final time before she disappeared, in which he then promptly sneezed deeply when he bent to retrieve the keys from the floor. After a few more shaky attempts he managed to get the door open, taking off his soaked shoes and bulky layers as soon as the door was shut and locked behind him, almost immediately sneezing twice into his fist from the warmer change of temperature.

Jungkook let out a wet sniffle and groaned as he shook his head to try getting rid of some of the water that had soaked into his ears and hair. It was mostly unsuccessful. There was now a puddle of water in front of the door where he had been standing and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care about the trail he was leaving as he went down the passage to steal clothes from Tae.

He took his time in the shower, just standing under the hot water while his skin turned red and he burned the chill out of his skin. It was only when he started to feel light headed from the heat that he decided to get out, drying quickly to avoid the cold before changing into the softest baggiest clothes that Tae owned – it also happened to be Jungkook’s comfort clothes and had been since he and Tae had first started dating in high school. There was something about the scent and feeling of the material that made Jungkook feel completely and entirely safe. Perhaps it was because Taehyung had had the set of clothes for so long, and Jungkook couldn’t even begin to associate the items with anything besides his childhood best friend.

He scrubbed his hair with a towel, not feeling up to the effort of blow drying it, before grabbing the fluffy green blanket from Hobi’s wardrobe to drape around his shoulders. He needed something from both of his boyfriends, needing something with their scents. Hoseok had claimed that the blanket had magical properties purely because his mother had given it to him when he had studying overseas for a year, and it had kept him from most of his homesick thoughts or general dips in his mood. And therefore, it had quickly become a shared item for whenever one of their household felt down or off, there had even been a time when Jungkook had stolen and nested with it before Hoseok had moved in with them. It had been mildly embarrassing at the time, but if anything, it had helped ease any concerns Hoseok had had when he had first decided to try a relationship with two people – no longer fearing if Jungkook had just been tolerating him for the sake of Tae.  

The bunny got to work on heating up some of the left-over pizza from the night before, grabbing a carton of banana milk from the fridge before finding his phone that had surprisingly fared well, despite how wet it had gotten from his walk.

Skipping past the group chat that he had with Tae and Hobi to avoid any unnecessary concerns, since he didn’t need Tae to know he had walked through a storm when the witch wasn’t anywhere close to check on him, he shot a brief text to Taehyung asking how the little workshop that Namjoon had taken him to for the day was going, then switched to Hoseok’s contact.

 To: ~♥Sunshine☼~

Hobi, left studio early. Wasn’t feeling the mood… When are you coming home? It’s cold.

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

One more class, then solo session with a senior. How’d you get home? Gyeomie ask Jackson to drop you?

 Jungkook cleared his throat gently, taking his newly heated food from the microwave so that he could sit in the lounge and sprawl out on the couch. He looked at his phone again to see that Tae had answered him as well.

  To: ~♥Sunshine☼~

Walked. Yugyeom was still in class.

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

Learning so much! I met this really cool person that owns a crystal shop, so I can restock on things while I’m here. Might be home a bit later than planned but will definitely be back tonight! Love you!! Give Hoseok kisses for me when you get home!

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

Bun…

Jungkook quickly sent a ‘stay safe’ to Tae before he tossed his phone aside so he could focus on nibbling his food with little interest while he played some anime softly on the TV. He snuggled down in the cushions to get comfortable and emptied his mind of any stressors that had been plaguing him.

He doesn’t quite remember at what point he had fallen asleep, he hadn’t done much besides lay around or make coffee since returning from class, so he hadn’t expected to be able to slip so easily into resting, but he wasn’t complaining about it. He’d been stressing enough over his upcoming assignments that sleep was a blessing that he hadn’t been getting enough of right now.

*

Jungkook rolled over on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around himself as he did, hoping that he would just go back to sleep. He rubbed his face into the blanket, scrunching up his nose as something tickled at his sinuses. He sniffed and tried to ignore it, but when he realised that it wasn’t going to subside he pushed himself up right. Squinting in confusion as he realised what he had thought was still natural light was in fact fluorescent, the TV had been turned off as well. He frowned with a sniff. He was waking up enough to realise that it had gotten dark outside and that meant that he probably wasn’t home alone anymore. Which… would make sense.

It took a few moments for him to get to his feet. His head had spun for a bit before he chanced putting any effort into being vertical, but he did manage to stand and stretch – not waiting a second longer before grabbing the blanket once more and wrapping it around his shoulders. Making his way to the kitchen to find water, his nose twinged once more and he snapped forward sharply with a throaty “Huhe’TSHhh”, merely tightening his grip on that blanket before he ducked down again.

‘Heh’ehhhshheww … Heh’eehhhTCHsheww!’

“Bless you, Kookie.”

Jungkook sniffled and blinked blurrily into the kitchen space, only noticing that Hoseok had been seated at the table going over what he could only assume had to do with the dancers students.

“Thangks.”

Hoseok’s brows were furrowed with concern as the bunny hybrid just made his way towards the cupboard to drag out a glass before taking it to the fridge to find cold water. Jungkook wanted to cringe at how wet his sniffling had now become but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“How you feeling?” Hobi asked, concerned but toned down enough for the bunny to know that he disapproved of his actions. The elder glanced away briefly to continue checking his exam schedule, not looking at Jungkook as he said, “The walk must have really gotten to you.”

“mmm…” Jungkook gulped down his water before he discarded the glass and moved so that he was behind his boyfriend, rubbing his face gently into the crook of Hobi’s neck even if the dancers body language had first implied that he was mildly annoyed. “I’ve been feeling off all day. But it’s worse now, my head hurts.”

That caught Hobi’s attention. He twisted in his seat so that he could hold his hand to Jungkook’s face. “You’ve been sick all day? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you even go to class?”

Jungkook shrugged. “If I said something then Tae wouldn’t have wanted to go to that workshop thing, or you would have tried to get the day off, even though you’ve been trying to work at the school as much as possible for your students right now. And anyway, I was hoping that I would be able to get some work done. I didn’t think it would rain.”

“Oh god, you walked in that while sick?” Hoseok pulled the hybrid into his arms so that his head rested on Jungkook’s shoulder. “My poor bunny, I swear you’re going to shave years off of my life with how easily you just disregard your health. Have you at least taken something?”

Jungkook grimaced. Hoseok let out a heavy sigh before getting to his feet and tugging the hybrid back to the couch that he had fallen asleep on earlier. Because of course Jungkook wouldn’t have taken something. Of course he would have waited until someone came home, and would have not bothered to mention anything about how he had felt before then – always quick to not be any form of immediate inconvenience.

“We don’t have much of anything left from last time… I’ll call Tae to pick something up, hopefully somewhere is still open.” Hoseok left Jungkook after covering him with the blanket, moving into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a box of allergy meds and a thermometer. “I know it’s not much, but if you want to take something now…”

Jungkook didn’t complain, merely dry swallowed two pills before allowing Hobi to slip the thermometer under his tongue. He pulled the blanket tighter around him  as he coughed – lips drawn tightly together to avoid spitting out the device before it was ready. Hoseok took a seat beside him, running a hand up and down the length of Jungkook’s spine. He peered at the hybrid with a heavy, concerned gaze as he waited patiently for the small alerting beep – pulling the stick from Jungkook’s mouth when he did finally hear it. His concern didn’t ebb.

“You’re a little warm… but that’s not particularly surprising.” Hobi murmuring, watching Jungkook’s lips fall into a soft pout and his ears droop further into his face. Hobi peeled some of the blanket back,  having to tug it a bit when the bunny gripped tighter, and half pulled Jungkook into his lap so that they were both covered by the fluffy green warmth.

He sent a somewhat lengthy text to Taehyung with stern instructions before he let his arms become a frame around the larger boy that had pushed himself into his chest. A wet nose pressed to his neck.

Hoseok sighed but didn’t put forth any humorous complaints like he usually would to lighten the mood, he had a feeling as much as Jungkook would probably try laugh at them, he wouldn’t necessarily appreciate them. So, he merely embraced the other, kissing at his hair line as the bunny drifted off.

 ….

Hoseok had been catching up on some series when Jungkook had woken up, wanting to shift positions so that he could lie length ways on the couch and use Hoseok as a pillow while he slept – which had maybe lasted an hour before he had begun to cough and rub at his nose insistently.

“Do you want to sneeze maybe?” Hobi asked gently as he ran a hand over Jungkook’s ears. “It might help…”

Jungkook whined and sniffled into his boyfriends lap. It had to have been over three hours now since he had taken the allergy meds and he was a mess.  The itchy feeling wasn’t leaving him and he wanted to sleep, or at the very least be able to focus on whatever series Hobi had put on. He rubbed his nose into Hobi’s stomach with very little progress. Hoseok took to slowly running his hand up and down the length of Jungkook’s left ear, hoping to send some sort of content through the hybrid.

It was mostly working, Jungkook sighed and relaxed his tense body. While he was still feeling the active buzz in his sinuses, a familiar warmth flooded his system and he was left uncurling his tightly pulled in body as the fuzzy sensations started to travel down his spine.

Hobi smiled. He easily forgot how soft and submissive Jungkook could be when he wasn’t feeling well, it wasn’t something that Hoseok particularly enjoyed to see, since the hybrid was usually sick or in pain, but it wasn’t all bad. Especially from the caring side of things. It wasn’t terrible to have Jungkook cling to him or Tae and seek general comfort and closeness more than being keen on isolating like he himself usually did. Or at least he usually tried to. Living with Taehyung and Jungkook had taught him that there was no running from cuddles.

Jungkook gave small pleased ‘hums’ as Hobi gently began to rub at the soft ears, moving in massaging circles from the bottom all the way up. When he reached the base, Jungkook subconsciously raised his head to push his ear harder into Hobi’s fingers. His body giving a light tremble as Hoseok laughed and focused his attention on where Jungkook’s ears met his hair, enjoying the soft sounds that escaped the bunny.

“Is it good?” Hobi asked teasingly when he noticed Jungkook’s foot twitching into a tapping motion on the couch. He wondered what it felt like. He had always been too shy to ask Jungkook about what he went through each time he or Tae played with his ears or tail, despite being in a relationship with the bunny for almost 2 years now and seeing that what Jungkook felt was clearly one of pleasure, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask the details. As a human he’d probably never understand it properly, and he didn’t want to seem jealous of it or something – because he wasn’t. He was just curious, and he’d much rather be able to be the giver if it meant seeing his bunny writhe and moan at his touch.

He’d have to remember to ask Jimin, maybe he could give a better explanation and pointers than what the internet did.

Jungkook moaned as Hobi found a particular spot right at the base of his ear, the bunny had been leaning into it so much that he was holding himself almost upright with his arms propped under him, hovering over Hobi’s lap now. His mouth hung open a bit with heavy breaths and glazed eyes peered through dark lashes. Hoseok rubbed harder, watching as Jungkook sniffled persistently and shivered against him.

“You okay still?”

“mmmhh, it’s good…jus-just ti-ticklish..” he sniffled wetly. “I’b gonna  sne-hih-sneeze.”

Well this was new, but not entirely unfamiliar territory. Taking pity on him, Hobi started to rub at the other ear as well. A deep bubble of heat burst through him as he watched Jungkook’s expression switch from pleased to downright euphoric. His breath stuttering and hitching as Hoseok become more determined in his activity. Jungkook was so beautiful, even when he looked like a mess. It was a hot mess, one that Hoseok had been a participant of creating. It didn’t take much longer before Jungkook was crumpling into his chest, tears brimming in his eyes.

Heh’ ehHHESHEW! ISHHHEW’uh Heh’EHHTCH’ahh… Hih..snf… Hiehh’TCHshhiew!

“Bless you.” Hoseok could feel the spray settling on the visible skin of his collar bone. “Are you done?”

Jungkook sniffled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh that forced him into a bout of soft coughs. “It still.. ugh.”

“Tickles? Should I fetch you tissues? We can coax them out if you want…”

Jungkook didn’t answer verbally, just sunk his face back into Hoseok’s neck while his hands clung to the elders shirt with an iron grip. That was as much an answer as he was going to get.

**

They remained in that position, both having fallen asleep at some point, until Taehyung came sneaking into the house later that night.  The witch winced as he accidentally bumped into the trellis of plants by the door that Jimin had gifted him a year ago when he was shaking water droplets from his hair. The sound resonating through the silent apartment with more volume than he would have liked. His wince returned as he realised that Hoseok was blinking wide, blurry eyes through the darkness in his direction, the only source of light being the T.V. that his boyfriends must have forgotten to turn off.

“Sorry, it’s just me.” He reassured softly before flipping on the passage light so that Hoseok could see him better without bothering Jungkook too much. Tae lifted up a large, damp paper bag that hadn’t been able to fit in his backpack with the other materials he’d bought throughout the day.  “I got some stuff. Most of the places had closed already but I found this one pharmacy that had just closed and convinced one of the workers that it was extremely vital that I got medication and stuff, so he let me inside for a bit. Praise that guy. Much thanks was given. A saint amongst people.”

Hobi let out a soft chuckle at Taehyung as shuffled closer to set a gentle kiss against his temple before leaning down and brushing the hair back from Jungkook’s face to press a kiss too his forehead as well. 

The witches brows drew together at the slight heat that radiated off of the hybrid. He ran his hand through the bunnies hair, giving a gentle scratch at his ears as he watched Jungkook cuddle closer to Hoseok in his sleep. The blanket that covered them slipped down a little and Taehyung was quick to tuck it back under Jungkook’s chin.

“Is he feverish? This came on so quickly, he seemed fine earlier.”

Hobi yawned widely, shifting in his seat but not making a move to push Jungkook off. “I thought so too, but he told me that he woke up feeling sick. He also left class early and walked through that storm to get home.” He sighed and Taehyung’s brows raised with surprise, his mouth slightly ajar as if he wanted to say something but no words came out. “I think we can be grateful he isn’t worse. I gave him some allergy med’s since its mostly his sinuses that were bothering him and that’s all we had, but they didn’t last very long. He was miserable for a while before he got to sleep. I don’t think he ate much today either…”

“…Should we give him something now?”

Hobi bit at his lip. He knew hybrids could tolerate certain things a bit better than  humans could, but he still didn’t like the idea of giving the bunny medication on an empty stomach. And eating at this hour… it must be at least close to eleven pm now.

“ If we feed him now he is probably just going to get nauseous. I don’t want him to feel worse..”

Tae nodded in agreement, still carding his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. “We can make a nice breakfast tomorrow and give it to him then. I got some new herbs and crystals, so I’ll make him some new charms as well. For you too.” Hoseok smiled at Taehyungs concern. “You still have classes tomorrow right? Yoongi is still out of town so I don’t really have to go into work. Namjoon is probably sick of me hovering anyway. Between him breaking jars and me doing the wrong measurements and methods, Yoongi may just bury us alive when he gets back.” He chuckled nervously, but Hobi knew that Tae had mixed feelings of disappointment and worry when it came to his work. “I just mean, I’ll be able to stay with him.”

“I know.” Hobi replied, staring at Tae’s downward gaze. “I think we’ll both appreciate the effort, Tae. I’ll try get home early, but it will probably be just the two of you in the morning. Just email his lecturers.”

 “Of course…” Tae pressed another kiss to Jungkook’s forehead, then to Hoseok’s lips before the elder broke into another yawn. “I’ll pack this stuff away quickly then we can head to bed, just give me a second.”

The witch disappeared, not trusting himself to try to levitate anything like Yoongi had taught him -he was still only getting it right a third of the time. So it took a bit longer than he planned, but he eventually packed away the food and goods that he’d gotten and left his charm materials and medication on the table to be dealt with in the morning. He re-entered the dim lounge to see Hoseok gently shaking Jungkook to a somewhat state of consciousness so that the elder could get up.

When Jungkook let out a deep whine Tae moved beside them and slipped his arms under Jungkook’s legs and back to lift him up. It was a bit of a struggle at first, since the angle was weird, but he bumped the bunny up in his arms to get a better grip and then carefully carried him to their room down the hall. Hoseok was a bit slow to follow, taking a moment to stretch and get life in his legs before he joined them. Jungkook buried his face into Tae’s shoulder as the lights in the passage forced him further into the land of the living.

“Tae…?” Jungkook sniffed, then pushed harder against Taehyungs body. “Eh’hii’ehSHHieww. Eh’iishieww!... … ‘m sorry.”

“That’s okay, Bun. Bless you.” Tae murmured. His shirt was still a little damp from the rain when he had to climb the stairs anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, Hobi is bringing your blanket so you can stay warm and comfortable.”

Jungkook nodded before sneezing again. Behind him, Tae could hear Hobi’s soft blessing and sloppy, half asleep movements as he used furniture and the wall to no doubt help him walk. Taehyung forced himself not to grimace at the delayed thought of how both of his boyfriends had kept him in the dark about things for most of the day. Hoseok had probably been exhausted from his classes and yet he had chosen not to bother Tae with any concerns until it was late, and Jungkook had acted like nothing had been wrong at all when he’d spoken to him earlier…

He kicked open the bedroom door with a shake of his head, walking into the dark room with perhaps a bit too much force. He was being dumb. This wasn’t necessarily about him, and he knew that. It’s not what he was supposed to be focusing on.

He set the hybrid down on their bed, opening up the duvet and encouraging him with little pats to roll towards the center, before he went and grabbed the ‘magical’ blanket from Hobi who was still only halfway up the passage – sparing an embarrassing chuckle as Tae picked him up as well – so that he could give it to the bunny before he started to look for it.

“You should change.” He said once he had set Hobi down and left him to handle settling Jungkook with gentle pats. He tossed some sweatpants and a T-shirt at Hoseok, before grabbing his own pajama’s to change into. “How was school?”

Tae listened to Hoseok tiredly ramble on about his students and the upcoming exam preparations while they both got dressed for the night. Overall, it sounded particularly stressful, and some of Hoseok’s kids weren’t the most hardworking – even if they had the talent to be amazing. Hobi more often than not would break down in spiralling rants about how they needed to work harder or at the very least pay attention in class. Honestly, Taehyung couldn’t fathom who wouldn’t be interested in having Hoseok teach them. The man was one of the most passionate people he had ever met, it was actually what had drawn him to the human. Of course now there many other traits that he loved, but Hoseok’s passion would always be his first.

He added a brief skim of his daily events, knowing that even if Hoseok was trying his best to pay attention, the elder needed to sleep more than he needed an immediate recap. Tae merely ended his tales by saying that it was ‘Knowledgeable and fun’ before he ruffled Hobi’s hair and jumped onto the bed, cuddling up to Jungkook’s sleeping figure. He imitated the bunnies deep snores and earned muffled laughter from the elder as he joined them on the other side of the bed.

“Good night TaeTae.”

“Sleep well, Hoseok.” Tae murmured. The lump in his chest from early slowly melting away as sleep dragged him into darkness.  

[ms-a-z-u-l]

The Alley (Dabi x Reader)

Summary- You meet Dabi in an alley on a regular basis until he tells you that seeing each other will no longer be possible. The only question left is: why?

Categories- Angst, romance if you squint 

Warnings- Only cursing 

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A/N: This one was actually already here but I accidentally deleted it. Also, for some reason Tumblr is not showing my posts with the tags and I have no idea how to fix that :,) I’m still uploading in the case some day it does and for those who can see it, thank you for reading! 

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“Go back, squirt”

“Why?”

With a sigh, Dabi turned around to look at you. You had barely gotten to your recent go-to place: a secluded alley, sure to keep away any lingering and curious eyes that could see you meeting with a villain nonetheless. Since the particular day you happened to be innocent bait (that’s what they thought you were) in order to rile up the new heroes, recently graduated from U.A with the respective names Shoto and Deku (they have been around the news a lot lately along with a certain explosion hero you couldn’t quite remember his name). Their plan ended up going wrong, nonetheless. As soon as the one grabbing you got distracted, you gave him in the shin as well as harsh bite to the arm and sprinted out of there.

However, you ended up stumbling into someone, and because luck was not on your side that day, it was not a hero but one of the villains at the site. You put up your decent fight and insults you could give (he particularly remembers the one regarding how he never learned how to use a stapler) and the name of “Charcoal” you gave him throughout that day.

Regardless, after the commotion ended and everyone escaped, you were let go by him in an alleyway without saying a word. It was odd. He didn’t say a word, but looking at his eyes, you could tell he might’ve wanted to say something, so out of curiosity you kept coming back to that alley in hopes he would be there.

And now here you were. You stopped counting the times you met in that place, it was a silent agreement when to meet that overtime you could just look at his eyes and know when he’ll be there. Today was different, though, today he was more serious and hadn’t thrown any half ass comment your way that made you tick. He hadn’t made eye contact and had his back toward you.

When he had finally looked at you though, you saw it. It was something seen usually in his eyes, but it was there. Resignation, but for what it was the question.

“I won’t come here anymore, so you should stop coming here too, maybe even pretend like none of this happened”  

You silently stared for a moment before opening your mouth, “But why? Did something happen? Did I do something? If you’re beginning to take my picking at you seriously, I’ll stop really, no worries” you said hurriedly trying to make sense why he wouldn’t want to see you anymore. However, you stopped talking when you saw his face harden as jumbles of words came out of your mouth. “It’s not any of that, stop babbling” he sighed again and continues, “It’s no use doing this. You sneaking in here just to talk to me, I don’t see the case anymore, besides you know it’s dangerous associating with me. You’re wasting your time and I’m wasting mine coming all the way here just to indulge you in conversations that can be forgotten as soon as we both go our separate ways.” With that, he started walking away. But of course, being you we’re talking about, you wouldn’t have that half-assed information that sounded like a way to get you to go away.

“I won’t take that shitty excuse from you. You never looked like you hated it and besides, if you were just wasting your time, then you would have never come in the first place when I first looked for you here, or the next or the next and all the times you came” you started grabbing onto his sleeve, pulling him to at least look at you, show any sign he was listening. Suddenly, you flinched. You started feeling a burning in your hand, and it was getting painfully hotter. When it got unbearable in a matter of seconds, you tried to quickly pull away, but Dabi grabbed you by the wrist and faced you. He had a cold expression, as if wanting to truly frighten you and drive you away. “I don’t give a damn what you thought all of this was. Just accept I got bored and tired of doing this and entertaining you. It’s not my fault you started getting any ideas and believe this could be one of those beautiful disgusting friendships you see on shows. This is real life, doll, and it disappoints you so bad that eventually you get tired of the shit that it pulls you to.”  

All you could do was stare in shock. You didn’t want to believe any words that came out of his mouth. It couldn’t be right, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, he wouldn’t have actually shown even the tiniest trace of genuine interest to what you both talked about and the mirth toward your antics. It was simply unacceptable, he was actually a part you began to look forward too. And now he himself wanted to take it away. “Then I don’t care either” you said confidently, however he misunderstood. “Good, this is easier on me now, see ya never I guess-“

“I don’t care what you said. Because i don’t believe it. Even if you say you got tired and bored, I’ll still come the next day, and the day after that one, until you really get tired of it and disappear completely. And if its about me being in danger, well if was that situation that got us to meet, so I don’t care either” you stopped talking with eyes closed, but a felt a presence. Slowly, you lifted your head and he was right there with an honestly unreadable expression.

“Um, ahh- well what I mean exactly is that I don’t believe your bullshit and I still want to stick around here and see you as weird as it may sound, don’ttakeittheotherwayplease-” among your nervous muttering and gradually fast talking, he lifted both of his hand. You didn’t flinch, to his surprise (he didn’t show it however) but rather waited for his next move. It wasn’t a harsh gesture, far from it, it was gentle. He was really cupping your cheeks and caressing the skin, his eyes finally changing, the only way to know how he felt cause he would damn himself if he said the feelings he held, whatever they may be.

“ You’re impossible.. and irritating.. and sarcastic as hell”

You huffed and rolled your eyes lightheartedly, “I got the point, as if you’re all roses and charm”

He lightly chuckled and continued, “If something happens, I only want you to remember the times we were here. Not a bloodied corse in the pavement, because let’s be honest here, this life I’m leading here only ends there, and I don’t want you getting involved in that and end up hurting you along the way, that’s why I want to stop it now, stop seeing me and getting more damn attached, is no good sticking with me-“

“But-“

“No, you listen to me, doll. You’re gonna go back home, go to sleep, and the next day when you wake up you go about your day as always and after you get out of your last class, go home and repeat, simple as that”

At this, your tears started to fall and you choked out, “No, no, I cant do that, you can’t ask me that!” You shook your head repeatedly, “Please, Dabi, don’t ask that of me, I can’t just up and leave and pretend you were never there. I know I don’t say it but I care about you”

“Doll, doll, hey look at me, common, you’re not hiding that pretty face from me are you” he said, squishing your cheeks.

“Dabii!” You exclaimed, not in the mood for any flattery.

“Ok, ok I’ll stop, but look at me” raising your head, and grabbing onto his arms, you waited for him to keep talking. “I’m not doing this it of malice as unbelievable as it may sound. I’m doing this cause, now that we’re letting it all out here, fuck it, I care about you too, and the least I want is getting you into a world that will only let you know of suffering. For the same reason that I care about you, Y/N, is why I want you to go back and have a nice life, and that means is gonna have to be without me.”

After a moment, heard you in a small voice, “But for me, a nice life means you’re in it”

As cliche as it sounded, your words actually touched Dabi. He knew it was dumb, considering what he wanted to do was to let you go, but you just so damn persistent, and he figured it might do for a proper goodbye. Witch that, he leaned down and left a single peek in your right cheek. It lingered more than he wanted to, but it was the first and last time he could feel you like that. All you could was blink out of shock. His lips were not soft like you read in books, they were rough, but somehow the fact that it was him made you care less about those ideal descriptions. Before fully pulling away, you heard him whispered, “Maybe in another life we get, doll”

................................

You couldn’t change his mind, is what you learned the next day waking up in your room. Both of you stayed siting in that alley talking for the last time until you fell asleep.

You knew you couldn’t change his mind when the next days he made good on his promise of not showing up at all.

Eventually, you did what he asked, going about the day with the exception of going to that secluded alley. You made few friends along the way who managed to distract you from time to time after lectures, hang outs at any place they stumbled upon. After an invite to a cafe, you said your goodbyes to them  and started walking home. Somehow, it felt odd. You thought it was your mind, but you kept feeling a certain way. You started looking around but saw nothing. Just when you gave up and started looking down, you saw a figure in the building across form the cafe, with widened eyes, you could see it, the coat slightly flowing behind him.

With a newfound small smile, you started walking again, witch the newfound knowledge that he never really left.

“Yeah, I guess we can meet each other in another alley, you asshole”

[rohad93]

Moonlit Masquerade: High in the Mountains Pt 2 (final)

After lunch, they rolled Luz's tree into camp to sit next to the firepit, and once it’s slotted in place Viney gives Luz a break and uses the axe to hack the limbs off the tree flush with the trunk for them to sit on later

Once it’s done Luz flops back on it longwise and sighs in relief, arms and legs hanging limply over the sides of the trunk. Her arms feel like jelly and she can already feel the sore spots that are sure to be raised up blisters on her palms before the day is through. That always looked so much easier in every movie she’s ever seen; she should know by now that movies make everything look easier. She closed her eyes and let herself go limp, she was tired and it was only late afternoon.

The cool air has chilled the sweat on her skin and goosebumps are raised all across her arms, making her shiver, but she’s still wet and doesn’t want to put her flannel back on till she’s dried.

“We’re going to take a walk.” She hears Emira call and she can only guess that she means her and Viney.

She feels more than she hears the presence suddenly next to her. She’s pretty sure she already knows who it is, but it’s confirmed when a cloth is being wiped across her forehead, and as exhausted as she feels she still has the energy to smile and open her eyes to look up at Amity who is dabbing at her forehead, brows furrowed between her eyes.

“Happy now?” she asks, distracted, as she carefully wipes at her face and neck.

“Yes,” She grins and lets herself be fussed over for a minute. When Amity is satisfied Luz hauls herself up to sit next to her and takes the cloth from ber and wipes down her arms before pulling on her flannel. Gus hops onto the log and Willow sits next to him.    

“Luz, can you teach me how to fish?”

“You guys fish on the Isles.” she cocked her head.

“Yeah, but we do it with magic, I want to learn the human way.” He grins. “I even got this human fishing device from Eda!” He runs over to his bag and digs through it, almost disappearing inside it before pulling out a disassembled fishing pole. “It’s got these three sticks and a string, is it some kind of net?” He holds it out to Luz, looking at it. It seemed to be in pretty good shape, unlike some of the things in Eda’s human trash pile reserves.

She took it and popped it together, much to his fascination.

“It’s a fishing pole, you put bait on this hook and throw it into the water and wait for fish to bite it,” she explains, handing it back.

“Oooh… show me?” he whispered, looking up at her.

“We need water…”

“There’s a river not too far from here, just a little way down the mountain,” Willow said.

“Let’s go. ” Luz grinned and they followed Willow down the trail away from camp till they found themselves standing on the bank of a river.

"So, how do we do this?" Gus asks.

"Well, first we need some bait for the hook…" Luz hums, as she starts digging through the bushes before she finds what she's looking for and comes back with a bug in hand and hooks it before standing back. "Now just throw the hook out in the water."

He whips it back and everyone ducks out of the way as the hook flies around, trying not to get stabbed before he flings it into the water with a gentle plop

"Now what?"

"Now we just wait, eventually, maybe, a fish will bite it and you reel it in." She shows him the small spinning handle and Gus gives it an experimental twist.

"Ooh.."

They sit on the bank next to him and wait.

While it's not the most interesting thing to watch, it is at least relaxing and Luz dips her fingers into the water. It's cold and makes her fingers tingle. Amity sits next to her leaning her shoulder against hers and Willow contents herself with some flowers still growing beneath one of the trees. Gus looks fully concentrated on his task watching the place the string disappears into the water.

Luz feels like she's about to fall asleep when Gus shouts.

"It's moving! He jumps up and the end of the pole is bobbing rapidly.

"Reel it in!" Luz grins, jumping to her feet. Gus jerks back on the pole, spinning the reel before it jerks forward almost yanking him into the river. Luz grabs him, digging her heels into the dirt, and still, they're sliding forward. Amity and Willow grab them and the pole bows dangerously.

Gus jerks back and with a splash, something breaks the surface of the water. Something big and scaly with legs and a mouthful of teeth.

"That's not a fish!" Willow shouts and Gus drops the pole as It moves toward the shore.

"Run!" Amity yells and they turn and dart back into the woods.

They don't turn to see if it gives chase, they just run until they're back at camp, panting and gasping.

"Fishing… is more dangerous than I expected," Gus wheezes.

"No more, 'fishing like humans'," Willow pants, and they all nod.

They wander around the woods near camp for a while after, doing their own things, exploring the different nooks and crannies, but stay clear of the river.

Amity and Willow are looking at some rare plant Willow found and Gus is jotting down some notes about his attempt at fishing the human way.

Luz wanders over to sit on the cliffside at the far side of camp, legs dangling over the edge. The sun is starting to set over the boiling sea between the ribs that tower over the much smaller mountain they have chosen to climb, it’s cold in the shadows, but as the sun moves, it throws their camp into the long orange rays or twilight. She closes her eyes and despite the cold air, the dwindling rays of the sun on her skin keep her warm.

"Mind if I join you?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at Amity standing over her, hands clasped behind her back and smiling down at her.

“I never mind.”

She settled down beside her on the ground, and leaned back on her hands, staring out at the forest and sea stretched out in front of them, blanketed in the warm, golden red, yellows, and oranges of Autumn.

“Having fun?” Luz asked.

“Other than the monster in the river and worrying about whether or not you’re going to chop something off with an axe?” she asked with a little grin. “Then yeah, wonderful,” she said. Luz nudged her with her shoulder.

“We didn’t get eaten and I didn’t chop anything off so…”

“Yet…,” she mumbled, looking at Luz out of the corner of her eye and grinning. Luz stuck her tongue out at her and Amity rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you were able to come, this has been a lot of fun already!" Luz grinned at her, lacing their fingers together behind them

"You three could have gone without me if I could 't go," she said.

"And leave you all alone, mi amor?"

"It was just a couple of days, Luz." Amity huffed at her. "We're quite capable of doing things separately."

"Yeah, and if you didn't want to go we might have, but I wasn't going to go without you when I knew you wanted to go," she argued, frowning. Amity smiled at that.

"Thanks…," she mumbled, and Luz brightened. They watch the sunset, talking quietly until it's all but dipped behind the horizon.

When Emira and Viney wander back into camp Gus tells the two older teens his epic story of witch versus beast at the river, with a few embellishments of course.

They cook and eat dinner around the fire after which Luz pulls so.ething out of her bag she's been saving for such an occasion. She couldn't believe her luck when she had found these in a pile of Eda's human trash reserves.

"As is human camping tradition, I'm going to introduce you to the ancient Human art of roasting marshmallows!" She held up a bag of white objects for everyone to look at. "Everyone grab a stick!" Gus nearly tripped over himself racing to find a stick, he was always ready to learn more things about humans.

She handed out the marshmallows and showed them all how to roast them. Amity set her ablaze right off the bat and Emira snatched Viney's perfectly cooked one when she wasn't looking, while Willow squished hers experimentally between her fingers.

"These are amazing!" Gus said, wide eyes as he shoved a second in his mouth.

"Better enjoy them now then, you guys don't have them here, so who knows if you'll ever have another one," Luz said, sticking one on each end of her two-pronged stick and holding it out over the fire, watching Amity glare at a second one she had turned to charcoal out of the corner of her eye.

"Eda hasn't had any luck with finding a new portal?" Willow asked and Luz shook her head, turning her marshmallows.

"Nope," she said, popping the 'p'. "But I mean… I'm not really worried about it." she shrugged.

"You don't want to go home?" Viney asked as she stuck a second treat on her stick for herself, shooting her smirking girlfriend a look.

Luz made a face and Amity or one of her friends was just about to jump in and change the subject when Luz shook her head.

"Honestly?" she asked, looking up. "Not really. I miss my mom… but that's the only thing I miss…

"What about your friends and stuff?" Viney cocked her head.

"I didn't have any."

"Oh… bummer." Is all the older girl can say.

"It's okay." She blows the flame off the marshmallows and holds the stick out to Amity, who blinks at it before smiling at her and taking one and popping it in her mouth. She hums delightedly at the sugary, smokey, treat, making Luz grin.

"What else do humans do when they camp?" Gus asks around a mouthful of marshmallows. Luz leaned back and hummed, pulling her marshmallow off the stick.

"Well, usually telling scary stories around the campfire is one, but the stories we tell are usually about things that actually exist here, like ghosts, and werewolves." she laughed before shoving it In her mouth.

"Ooh, I know one…" Viney grinned.

They took turns telling stories well into the night, and she laughed at Gus's

"The DMV?" She snorted.

"From the stories I've heard about humans, it's apparently a terrifying place!" He defended. She only snickered.

At some point she noticed Amity shivering a little and she shrugged off her flannel and draped it over her shoulders. Amity blinked, looking up as the warm material was laid across her cold arms. Luz just smiled at her.

Everyone else was too engrossed in Willow's story to notice them.

"Thanks," she mumbled quietly. "Won't you get cold?"

"Naw, I'm okay," she whispered back, even if her arms were already starting to chill.

Amity hummed, frowning to herself before scooting closer on the log to lean against her.

The warmth pressed against Luz's side was rivaled only by the one that was now filling her chest. She smiled to herself as she wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's back, holding her close.

After a while, they decided to call it a night.

With 'good night's' all around Gus and Willow disappeared inside their tents.

"I'm going to change," Amity said to her before standing and disappearing inside their own.

Emira mumbled something to Viney before doing the same.

"Hey, Luz, can I ask you something?" The older girl asked once they were alone.

"Shoot"

"You said you didn't have any friends in the human world, how come?" She cocked her head questioningly.

"Oh…," Luz said.

"If you don't want to talk about it…" Viney started.

"No, it's fine." She held up a hand. "I was a weirdo." She shrugged. "No one wanted to hang out with me 'cause they thought I was weird." She frowned.

"You're not weird… well, any weirder than the rest of us," the older girl chuckled, and Luz laughed too.

"Well, I'm still pretty strange for here too, mostly just because I'm the only human, but I'm kind of a freak by human standards, I guess."

"Meh, humans don't know what they're talking about." Viney snorted.

"Heh, thanks…"

"Luz"

Luz craned her neck back to see Amity, standing outside the tent. She was changed into her pajama pants and a t-shirt, with Luz's flannel, pulled on over it and her hair was down. Something about both those things made her heart beat a little faster in her chest.

"You can come change."

"Okay. Night, Viney," Luz said as she stood.

"Night"

"I'll be quick," Luz promised her before ducking into the tent and quickly changing into her own new pajama pants Eda had bought her. She shoved her jeans and boots into the far corner of the tent before poking her head out.

"Bedtime, mi amor." Luz grinned and Amity rolled her eyes but climbed in.

The tent rattled a little as they shuffled into her sleeping bag, something else Amity had forgotten along with her tent. Not that Luz minded at all as she snuggled up behind Amity, wrapped around her like a koala.

"Comfortable?"Amity asked, and she could practically hear the grin in her voice.

"Mhmm" Luz grinned.

It was quiet, the only sounds coming from the woods and their breathing, but after a little bit there was a noise coming from somewhere across the camp and Luz opened her eyes in the dark.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

"Yeah…"  if she listened hard enough she could almost hear what sounded like her sister and Amity had a terrible thought and groaned.

"What?"

"Pleases, please don't let them be having sex…," Amity mumbled to herself, not intending for Luz to hear, but the choking sound against her neck that followed the quiet plea told her she had.

"I hadn't even thought about that…," Luz mumbled, burying her now hot face in Amity's neck. "Not with the rest of us around…"

"I'd never put anything past my sister…" was the quiet, annoyed reply.

Luz couldn't help but laugh loudly at that, despite how embarrassed the idea made her.

"Hey, some of us are trying to sleep!" Gus's voice cut across camp, and Luz quieted herself.

"Sorry!" She yelled. Then the whole camp was quiet again and Amity sighed in relief.

"Good night," she mumbled.

"Night, mi amor," Luz mumbled snuggling into her back.

It didn't take long before they were out.

~ ~

Luz woke to the blue-gray light of early morning trying to light up their tent. She blinked groggily up at the ceiling, somehow she had rolled over onto her back in the night and now it was Amity wrapped tightly around her.

She really had to go to the bathroom…

She also didn't want to wake Amity...

Slowly, inch by inch, she managed to slide herself out of her girlfriend's grip. She grumbled, curling up in the empty space Luz left.

She chuckled quietly to herself and pulled the blanket back over her.

Luz crawled quietly out of the tent when she finally managed to extract herself from Amity’s hold and yawned, stretching her arms out over her head.

She took her jeans, and boots, and ran to the bathroom.

The air was crisp and cold, the sun was only just beginning to rise, casting long tendrils of light snaking across the ground, between the trees, casting shadows over the camp.

When she came out she reached up to rub her fist against an eye, trying to wipe away the last remnants of sleep. As soon as she does, she winces; her whole upper body is stiff and sore. Everywhere from her shoulders to her forearms aches.

“The tree was a mistake…,” she yawned, squeezing one of her sore biceps.

“Feeling it today, huh?” A voice chuckled and Luz glanced over toward the firepit where Viney was sitting on the log, poking at the newly rekindled fire.

“Oh yeah,” she grumbled as she walked over and plopped down on the trunk.

“Been there…” Viney nodded, scratching the back of her head. "You need some numberries. They actually grow wild around here, they're pretty tasty, and they dull your pain a little, I used to use them back before I started in the healing track after a hard day, couple will do ya, but hey, didn't peg you to be an early riser."

"I don't always get out of bed early, but I'm usually awake." She shrugged. It was a little chilly out here without her flannel, but there was no way she was going to be able to pry it off Amity, not that she would want to. She'd looked so cute and warm in her shirt.

She'd need to watch it, or it might disappear like the hoodie Amity had all but claimed as her own, like, a month ago; she knew she probably wasn't getting that back. She moved back to the bag sitting outside their tent and pulled out a dark green, long-sleeved shirt, and slipped it on over her tank top. "What are you doin up?"

"I'm always up with the sun," Viney says when she comes back and plops herself back down on the log. "I usually have to get up and help feed the beasts before school." She shrugs. "... and Em snores." She grinned and Luz barked a laugh, quickly trying to stifle the noise since all their friends were still sleeping.

They sit there a while as the sun slowly rises up over the trees, talking about their shared classes and anything that comes to mind.

"Emira told you about me and Amity before the fight with those guys in the illusion track, didn't she?" Luz asks and Viney nods.

"Yeah, actually, I knew back before you guys even started dating, She told me about Amity's crush on you, and she kept me up to date as you played secret admirer after she figured out it was you." she chuckled, her girlfriend could be a bit of a gossip, but there had been no one else for her to tell.

"Of course… man, everyone but me did know." Luz shook her head, smiling ruefully to herself.

"Eh, don't beat yourself up about it. It took a while to figure out that Em wasn't just trying to play a joke on me or flirting that way she does with everyone." Viney waved a hand. That did make Luz feel a little better.

She made a face, looking back at her and Viney's tent before scooting closer to her friend and leaning in.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked quietly. Noticing the change in the younger teens' demeanor, Viney just nodded, leaning in close.

"Does Em talk to you about their…. family life?" she asks, unsure. Viney frowned, also glancing at the tents.

"Their parents, you mean?" she asks, just as quietly, and Luz nods. "Sometimes, yeah. It's a… touchy subject, ya know?"

"Tell me about it… What do you think? I've never met them," Luz questions.

"Me neither, and I don't think either one of us would want to if we can help it. I don't hear very good things about mama Blight."  

"Me neither…" Luz frowns.

"As for what I think, I think that all three of them are put underway to much pressure and stress. They're supposed to be perfect all the time for everyone and I know how much it weighs on Em." Viney sighed, leaning back to stare into the fire.

"Yeah… I mean,… she makes Amity dye her hair to match the twins… who does that?!" Luz snarled, throwing out her arms, wincing as her muscles protested the quick movement.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Em felt really guilty about it," the older girl said.

"I just wish… I could do something, anything to help make it better…," Luz mumbled, laying her forearms across her knees and slumping forward.

"I feel ya, but the thing is, we would only make things harder on them, this one's beyond us," Viney tells her, and Luz slumps further, grunting an agreement, she knows exactly how the underclassmen feels. There isn't much she wouldn't do to help Emira somehow. So she does what she can and it seems Luz needs to be reminded of what she does too.

"Hey, maybe there's nothing you can do about mama and papa Blight, but you gotta remember all the stuff you do do." She smiles and Luz looks up at her questioningly. "Em's told me she can't remember the last time Amity seemed so happy as she has since you two started dating. You give her a place to go, someone to talk to. Someone who loves her just for how she is, not what she has to pretend to be. Seems to me you make her pretty happy already."

A smile works its way onto Luz's face at that. Viney is right. Amity's home life is beyond her, she knows that, but she's there for her girlfriend, always; and Amity knows it.

"I guess you're right. She makes me happy too." She looks up at and Viney is grinning back at her.

Scratching and rustling from behind them make them both turn to look. Luz's pale violet tent is rustling and swaying. Then the zipper comes undone and Amity climbs out, hair still down and wearing the flannel shirt open over her sleeping clothes and barefoot. She looks around, squinting against the harsh sunlight that is now shining over the trees onto camp until they land on Luz.

Luz smiles at her and Amity pads over and plops onto the log next to her on the opposite side from Viney and leans her head tiredly on her shoulder, wrapping an arm around hers and Luz grins and presses a kiss to her head.

"Buenos días, mi amor," she mumbled against her hair. Amity hums, seeming to think for a few seconds before mumbling back.

"Mañana"

Her accent is thick and stilted and it makes Luz snicker under her breath most days but this morning it only makes her feel warm and fuzzy. Amity tries to work Spanish into her speech more every day to remember, and practice and Luz doesn't think Amity knows how much that means to her, to have even just one person with whom she can talk to in the language, even if it is more akin to speaking to a toddler with Amity's current level, but it's progress.

"Not awake yet?" She grinned and Amity grunts, huffing against her.

They stay there a while as the rest of the camp begins to wake and emerge from their tents.

There's a lot of grumbling and groaning as they get moving but everyone is well and wide awake after breakfast as they head off hiking in the woods.

It's a beautiful autumn day as they climb over fallen trees and large rocks, taking pictures of the view with their scrolls.

Luz drags behind some, her body aches after her tree chopping yesterday.

They stopped to rest at one point when Viney walked over.

"Still feeling it, huh?" She chuckles as Luz grunts. "Here" she holds out her hands, sitting in her palm are a handful of dark green berries with little white spots. "Found you some numberries. Should dull you some." She drops them into Luz's open palm.

Luz glances at her girlfriend who is talking to Em and Willow. She knows she's not supposed to just eat things, but it's been quite some time since she had a reaction to anything and Eda, and Lilith was probably right, her body's finally becoming used to the different foods on the Isles.

She pops them in her mouth and chews, as promised, they are pretty tasty.

"Thanks, Viney," she says after she swallows.

"No prob"

They get back on the trail, heading back in the direction of the camp.

It's about a half-hour later, when they're almost there that she starts to feel weird, and says as much.

“I feel weird…,” she mumbles, pulling her hand free from Amity's and laying it over her stomach. Amity looks at her and frowns. Sweat is starting to bead up on her forehead and the skin between her eyes furrows.

“You don’t look well…,” her girlfriend mumbles as they stop.

Her limbs don't hurt anymore, they actually feel kind of rubbery, which should have been her first clue that something isn't right, but by then she feels disconnected; strange.

Especially when her vision starts to swim in pretty, bright colors, that make her giggle.

Amity blinks at her and is immediately concerned when she laughs to herself and is staring off into the air with an awed face.

"Luz?"

“Huh?” she looks at her, but she doesn’t really seem to see her.

“Are you okay?” she asks, but Luz’s attention is already elsewhere, looking up in the trees in wonderment and she stops, looking up at the cliffs they're passing by and she sees what Luz sees.

A griffin nest, with baby griffins in it. She can see the wheels turning in Luz's head; but not quick enough.

She mumbles something that Amity can’t hear and then darts forward and is climbing up the rocks toward the nest.

“Luz!” Amity shouts, making everyone else turn back to them.

Luz fumbles over the rocks, scrabbling her way up the stones, completely deaf to her friends shouting at her from the ground. She has the suddenly unquenchable desire to pet the little creatures in the nest, who appear to her as bright little blots of color.

“What is she doing?” Emira asks Amity as she looks up at her sister’s girlfriend with wide eyes.

“I…”

“Uh-oh, she’s going after those baby griffins!” Viney sees the newborns straight away, and where there are baby Griffins a viciously,  protective mother is sure to be close behind.

“What, why!?” Willow shouts turning to Amity.

“I don’t know!” Amity shouted back. “She said she didn’t feel good and then she started acting strange.”

“Babe, grab her!” Viney turns to Emira, who draws a spell circle and casts a lasso of blue light, tossing it around Luz. She yanks her off the cliff face, flinging her into the grass before they can even think of trying to catch her.

“Luz!” Her friends shout as she smacks into the ground and rolls to a stop a few yards away in the grass.

"Sorry!" Emira shouts and Viney winces at that landing.

Before they can even make it to her she pops back up like she’s spring-loaded, making them jump back and they can see it now. Her pupils are blown wide, nearly pushing out all of the brown.

"Whoo, dizzy…," she mumbles, looking around at everything like it's the first time she's ever seen it.

They glance at each other worriedly, taking their eyes off her just long enough for Luz to go take off running down the trail.

"Luz, stop!" They call, giving chase. They forget just how fast the human is as she speeds down the trail, but she seems uncoordinated and stumbles a little over rocks and roots. Emira gets close enough for her fingers to brush the back of her collar but then Luz seems to right herself and darts out of reach, heading straight for their camp.

"She's so damn fast!" Emira huffs as they chase.

"Tell us about it." Willow's grumbles as they give chase.

She gets ahead of them enough to get out of their sight and when they burst back into camp she's hunkered down over the fire pit, looking at the small flames still burning in it with fascination.

She looks up as they run toward her shouting and jumps, running straight through the flames, scattering ash and ember as she stumbles.

Not even seeming to notice that the cuff of one leg of her jeans is now on fire.

"She's on fire!"

"Stop drop and roll, stop drop, and roll!" Gus is shouting as they continue to chase her, but Luz doesn't notice as she zips back into the woods with the group on her literally, hot trail.

The flames lick up to her knee, spreading with the wind she's creating as she runs.

"Someone do something!" Amity yells, she knows her abominations would be much too slow to catch her. Willow tries to grab her with vines, but Luz is moving too erratically between the trees for her to get a grip on her.

Gus tries to create a clone but Luz jumps right over it as it lunges at her.

"No wonder she was so good at grudgby!" He yells.

Viney draws a large orange spell circle and Puddles flies through.

"Grab her, Puddles!" She points and the griffin runs ahead of them, right behind Luz,. But then she makes a hard turn just before the beast can grab her In its beak.

Willow suddenly knows where they are and throws up a wall of vines, forcing the fleeing girl to change directions just the way she wants her too. Heading straight for the river.

Luz zigzags between the trees almost out of sight when she disappears completely followed by a loud splash.

"Shit" someone shouts as they finally catch up to find Luz thrashing around in the river. They grab her flailing limbs and drag her back onto the shore, she fights them, stringing together half incoherent Spanish and English sentences, but at least the fire is out.

They finally manage to drag her back onto the bank and she tries to take off, but Willow and Viney grab her.

"Luz, relax, it's us!" Gus says and her name seems to catch her attention and she goes limp, giggling to herself.

"It was wet," she snorts before bursting into full-blown laughter. Everyone just stares at her wide-eyed.

"We need to get her back to camp…," Emira finally says, and Willow and Viney nod, dragging the blitzed-out girl along behind them. She can barely keep her feet under her now and stumbles along limply as they guide her.

"What is wrong with her?" Gus looks at his still giggling friend, concerned, she's looking at her hand and snickering as she flexes her fingers like she's never seen them before."This isn't a human thing is it?"

"I've never seen her act like this," Amity says and bites her lip.

They get her back to camp and she's still sopping wet, dripping onto the dirt.

"You need to change clothes before you catch your death," Willow tells the spaced-out girl, tentatively releasing her grip.

"Hmm," Luz hums, seemingly thinking about this, and then starts to pull her shirt over her head.

"Not here in front of everyone!" Emira barks, face turning red.

But Luz doesn't seem to hear in her state and tries to pull it over her head, but the wet material gets stuck and she starts to flail like she's being strangled and Amity and Willow grab her, pulling it back down over her head.

"Hola" Luz just giggles once her head pops back out of the hole.

"Someone's going to have to help her change or she's going to strangle herself…," Viney says and Gus nods in agreement, then all eyes turn to Amity, who flushes bright red.

"Me?!" she yelps.

"Well, if anyone's going to shouldn't it be you? You're her girlfriend," Emira says, crossing her arms.

"I… I never… we…," she stammers, face turning red.

"Gus shouldn't," Willow starts. "And I don't think she'd want any of us to help her if she were in her right mind." She points out reluctantly, the others agree.

"She's going to freeze to death if we don't get her changed soon." Viney frowns.

Amity knows that's true, even though her face is still bright crimson. She glances at everyone before looking at Luz, who is still looking around with wonder at everything, making grabbing motions at the air at something only she can see while Willow holds her in place with vines to keep her from running off again, but she's started to shiver violently, teeth chattering as she stands there, the cold air chilling her, and Amity resolves herself with a sigh. As embarrassing as this promises to be she'd still much rather suffer through it and have her girlfriend alive.

"Em, grab some clothes out of her bag, and I need a towel…," she grumbles and Emira hurried off to grab the clothes. Viney spins a finger and a towel drops into Amity's hand. "Gus, can you make a curtain? I'm not going to fight her in the tent..."

The boy nods and in a flash of blue a circular stand with a curtain hanging from it appears.

"Ooh… magia." Luz looks at it with open wonder even as she stands there in Willows grip, quaking. She reaches out and pokes the curtain uncertainly.

Emira comes back, but the clothes in question, Amity recognizes as her own.

"She didn't have any other clothes in her bag." She shrugs, Amity just sighs as she takes them. They were only supposed to be out here a couple of days, it makes sense Luz didn't pack much. Luz has started to grow taller than her over the last few months, but they're still roughly the same size, it will do.

"You can do this…," Amity mumbles to herself, slinging the clothes over her shoulder and grabbing her zoned out girlfriend, who is still fascinated by the curtain, by the arm, Willow releasing her vines, and pulls her behind it.

"Okay, Luz…, we need to get you changed…," she says, and her face brightens at the words.

Luz turns her dilated eyes to her and blinks, seeming to think even though she's shaking from head to toe, dripping water, and part of her jeans burned away up to the knee.

"Naw" she shakes her head before her attention drifts elsewhere and Amity's embarrassment is somewhat tempered by the annoyance that spikes in her.

"Okay then…" Amity frowns, eyes narrowing and she grabs the hem of Luz's soaked shirt and starts to pull it over her head, that seems to bring her out of her temporary lulled state and she starts to thrash her arms, shouting in incoherent Spanish from inside the wet material and trying to pull away as Amity tugs it over her head despite her fighting.

"Luz, just take your clothes off!" She barks.

Outside, everyone else watches the curtain shake and rattle with the struggle, and sounds of the yelling, and muffled Spanish.

"I kind of always figured she'd be rough…," Emira snickers to herself and Viney elbows her, but is smirking too.

Gus and Willow listen to the struggle, concerned and embarrassed in equal measure.

Amity finally gets the shirt off, leaving Luz in her tank top.

Her once white, now all but transparent tank top and Amity's face burns as she looks away, but this proves to be a mistake, and Luz dashes for the curtain.

"No!" she shouts.

Amity lunges for her before she can run out and wraps the towel around her head, stopping her in her tracks.

"Just let me help you, damnit!"

It takes twenty long minutes of constant wrestling to get Luz dried and changed into her pants and sweater before she lets go and the human dashes out of the curtain.

She doesn't get very far before vines wrap around her and lift her off the ground. She's shouting in Spanish much too quickly for any of them to understand anything, not that they would understand much anyway.

"Sorry, Luz," Willow says to her.

Amity shoves the curtain aside, looking like she just stepped out of a wind storm, clothes askew and hair a mess, with Luz's wet clothes in hand, and face such an ultraviolet red they're afraid she's about to pop as she turns to Emira.

"We will never speak of this again," She hisses and Emira just nods, holding up her hands, doing her best to fight the grin that threatens to split her face. Amity walks over and lays Luz's clothes over a rock in the sun to dry.  

Luz has started knawing at the vines wrapped around her like a feral animal trying to escape.

"What is wrong with her?" Gus frowns, watching their friend.

"It's like she's been drugged." Emira crosses her arm as they watch her struggle in vain. Eventually, she'll tire herself out; they hope.

"Did something bite her?" Willow wonders.

"She didn't say anything…" Gus scratches his chin.

"Did she eat something?" Amity asks, rejoining them.

"Eat?" Viney asks, and they all turn to her. "I gave her some numberries earlier when we were hiking because she was really sore from yesterday, she ate a handful, but those wouldn't do this." She holds a hand out to the human, slobbering all over the vines as she repeatedly sinks her teeth into them, growling.

"Luz is human, things that are fine for us to eat don't always agree with her system…, she knows better than to just eat things," Amity groans, face in her hands.

"I think it's safe to say numberries are one of those things…," Willow says looking up at their friend, tearing at bits of the plant with her teeth, and Amity sighs, summoning her scroll, tapping a note on it titled simply: 'Luz's allergies' and types numberries in after lactose, bramblewheat and ghoul peppers, before spelling it away.

"What should we do?" Gus asks, looking up at Luz, who's given up on trying to knaw her way free and is simply resting her face on the vines, panting.

"Plants taste funny…," she mumbles, smacking her lips and staring off into space.

"Well, she doesn't seem to be poisoned, just tripping," Emira observes.

"We can probably wait it out," Viney agrees, reaching out to scratch Puddles' head. "Let's make lunch, I'm hungry and we might be able to dilute it some if we feed her," she suggests.

They agree and leave Luz strung up in the vines while they make sandwiches. Amity quickly makes one for Luz and Willow lowers her enough to reach before going back to making her own.

"Eat this, Luz," Amity says, trying to draw the tripping girls' attention as she holds up the sandwich.

Luz looks at her, and she can see that her pupils are still blown wide, taking up most of her eye. She's looking intently at Amity, like she's never seen her before, despite the debacle behind the curtain.

"Eres tan Bonita…," she mumbles with wonder, and Amity pinks, sighing but the corners of her mouth tick up. Luz has mostly been speaking in Spanish since she started freaking out, so Amity tries something else, trying to recall the right words.

"Por favor, come, querida."  She tries holding up the sandwich, hoping that's right.

Luz looks at it a second before opening her mouth and taking a bite. Amity manages to get her to eat all of it without much fuss, her rapidly turning attention locked on her for the moment. Somehow, when she imagined feeding her girlfriend, this wasn't exactly what she had in mind.

Once it's gone she joins the others to eat herself. They watch Luz carefully, bringing her closer to the fire to stay warm. She seems to be getting drowsy now, and within a few minutes is asleep, face down on the vines.

They check her periodically to make sure she isn't dead.

"So, do we tell Eda about this?" Willow asks looking around at everyone.

They all glance at each other.

"No"

~

It's dinner time when Luz starts to wake.

She squints against the harsh orange light of the setting sun. Her head hurts, hell, her whole body hurts, and her mouth is dry like she's been eating cotton balls. She smacks her mouth and looks around.

Her friends are scattered around the camp, doing their own things. Amity is the first to notice she's awake and quickly walks over.

"Are you, you again?" she asks tentatively. She can see her pupils have returned to normal size.

"What happened?" she mumbles and Amity sighed in relief before hot anger wells up in her gut.

"You ate numberries and spent half an hour tripping out!" she shouts and Luz winces as she starts to remember her little… episode, including Amity having to help her change and she turns red.

Hearing Amity yell, the others all come over and Willow releases her, she stumbles a little, her legs are asleep. She stares at the ground as they all look at her.

"Luz, are you okay?" Gus asks her.

She nods, looking up at him.

"I think so…"

"Hey, it's okay…" Emira starts and Amity turns on her.

"It is not okay!" she snaps and they all wince. "She knows better than to just eat things!"

"Amity, I…" she starts, rubbing her arm, but Amity just gives her a dark look before spinning on heel and stomping away. Luz deflates at that. Emira just pats her shoulder before following her sister to where she's now sitting on the far opposite end of camp not looking at any of them.

"I'm sorry, guys…," she mumbles sadly to her three friends.

"She's right, Luz. You could have seriously hurt yourself," Willow sighs and frowns at her, looking disappointed, and Luz shrinks further as the plant witch turns and walks away. Gus looks between them and nods but mouthing 'sorry' before he follows her.

"I feel bad, I'm the one who gave them to you." Viney scratches the back of her head. Luz shakes her head.

"No, you were just trying to help, they're right. I know that sometimes foods affect me weird, and I ate them anyway… this was all my fault…"

It's now that she notices that her leg really hurts and looks down, pulling up the leg of the pants to see that her left calf is burned in places.

Viney winces at it.

"Oof, let me patch that for you." She offers and Luz nods.

She draws a spell circle and a first aid kit appears and she applies cream to her burns and wraps it up.

"Thanks…," Luz mumbles, and Viney nods before moving jerking her head over to the firepit.

Luz reluctantly follows and plops herself down on the log, where she stays.

Dinner is a quiet, awkward affair, with Amity not talking or even looking at Luz from the other side of the fire. Everyone talks very little and unsurprisingly, most of them decide to turn in a little early.

Amity disappears into their tent and Luz stays where she is, sitting in front of the fire, knees pulled up to her chest. The other four look at each other uncertainly.

Emira frowns, but knows better than to get involved in this couple's dispute as she stands to go to their tent, Viney follows, shooting Luz a look over her shoulder.

"Luz, do you want to sleep with me?" Willow asks when it becomes apparent that the human is not going to be welcome in her and Amity's tent.

Luz just shakes her head but never looks up from the fire.

"No, thanks, Willow," she mumbles.

Gus and Willow share a look and the boy just shrugs before they go to their own tents, bidding her goodnight.

Luz sighs once she's alone. She hates when any of her friends are mad at her, especially her girlfriend, but she deserves it. She did something stupid. She could have easily gotten herself killed, not to mention severely embarrassing Amity and worrying her.

She picks up a stick and pokes at the fire for a while.

She's not sure how long it's been, but at least a couple of hours as she watches the flames die down to embers and curls up as the cold bites at her. She can see her breath in the low light of the fire. This is just part of her atonement she thinks, so no matter how cold she gets, she stays right where she is.

And Viney wasn't kidding. She can hear Em snoring from across the camp.

She's so engrossed in beating herself up she doesn't hear the tent zipper, nor the quiet footsteps approaching until Amity is standing right next to her in her pajamas, arms crossed.

"Are you going to sit out here all night?" she asks, making Luz jump and look up at her, but seeing that gold gaze she usually adores glaring at her, she turns back to the fire and nods.

"You're going to freeze." Amity huffs. She'd heard Willow offer up her tent and assumed Luz would accept, but as she laid there, unable to sleep, she had heard soft shuffling and peeked her head out to see Luz still sitting by the all but dead fire.

"I'll be fine," she says quietly, making no move to rekindle the fire much less move, and Amity can see the soft shaking of her shoulders.

Amity sighs to herself.

"Get in the tent, Luz," she says. That does make Luz lookup.

"I'll be fin-"

"Just get in the tent!" she snaps with a quiet hiss, knowing their friends and her sister are asleep.

Luz hunkers down at that but stands, the last thing she wants to do is make her girlfriend madder at her than she already is.

She quickly shuffles into the tent, Amity behind her as she zips it up.

She lays on her back and Amity lays on her side, facing away from her. They stay that way, quiet, for a long while.

The few inches between them feels like a chasm, Luz can't even begin to figure out how to bridge.

She sighs, glancing at the back of Amity's head.

"I'm sorry…," she says quietly, figuring Amity is asleep by now.

But then she hears her sigh and sees a pink spell circle appear, followed by a gently glowing light orb before she turns over to face her.

Amity is looking at her tiredly.

"Why? You know you're not supposed to just eat things you've never had before without someone to make sure you're okay."

"I know, I'm sorry… I haven't had a reaction in a while, I was hoping my body was finally getting used to stuff…," she says quietly, half shrugging.

"That doesn't mean you should risk it. This is what Eda was talking about, you can"t do stuff like this on a guess!" Amity bites and Luz looks away. She can't stand that scolding look. "Luz, you set yourself on fire and almost drowned today!" She hisses and Luz flinches.

Amity sighs again and reaches up to cover her eyes with her hands.

After a few long, silent moments, Luz glances at her and blinks. Amity is shaking and in the dim glow of the light spell, she can see the faint, shiny trails of tears dripping down her girlfriend's face.

She flips onto her side and doesn't hesitate to take hold of Amity's hands and gently pull them away from her face.

Her eyes are filled with tears as she looks back at Luz's wide, surprised gaze.

"You can't be so careless with your life!" she chokes.

Luz wraps her arms around her and finally pulls her close, Amity, burying her face into her neck and sniffling as she clutches the fabric at her back in her fists.

"I know… I'm sorry for worrying you, Amity. I'll be more careful from now on," she says into her hair. "I promise," she mumbled solemnly.

She holds her tightly, rubbing her back until the crying stops.

~

The atmosphere in the camp is much more relaxed the next morning when it seems Amity and Luz have made up. Nothing makes for a more awkward situation than when your couple friends are fighting.

They make quick work of breaking down camp before packing up and heading out.

Their parents are at work, so Emira heads off with Viney on Puddles, waving as they fly off.

Once they reach the bottom of the trail, Gus and Willow wave before they head off on their own, leaving the couple alone as they trek back to the owl house.

Amity's hand is wrapped in hers as they walk along in the cool morning air.

Luz has been quiet though, thinking. She truly needed to start making more effort to think about things before she did them. She wasn't just thinking about herself anymore, but how things she did affect Amity too, and realizes she would be just as worried all the time if Amity was more like her.

"I'm going to think more before I do things from now on," she says suddenly, making Amity look up at her.

"I know," she says, squeezing her hand.

"Also… I'm sorry about the … having to help me change thing…," she says quietly, scratching her pink cheek awkwardly with her free hand.

Amity turns red at that.

"It's okay…," she finally says after a second. "I couldn't let anyone else do it…," she mumbles

Luz chuckles a little at that.

"Yeah… I don't think I could have looked any of them in the eye ever again…," she admits. "Especially Em or Gus…"

"Like I was going to let Emira do it…," Amity huffs, and Luz really laughs at that, making Amity smirk.

Eda is standing out front, sweeping the stoop when they walk out of the woods and she looks up at them and grins.

"Hey, how was camping?" she asks, leaning on the broom and looking between them.

They glance at each other quickly.

"Fine!" they both say quickly, and Eda just blinks at them.

[acaseforpencils]

Lars Kenseth: Part Two.

A couple of months ago, Lars posted on social media that he had switched from working digitally to using traditional tools. That very rarely happens—in fact, it’s usually the reverse! So I asked him if he would be willing to do a follow-up on his 2018 Case, and give us an update on his drawing tools!

Bio: Hey there! I’m Lars. I draw cartoons for The New Yorker, Alta and Air Mail. I started cartooning professionally in 2016, and promised I would only stop until our nation’s deep psychological wounds have healed. So, never. By day, I write comedy for TV, usually my own stuff. Currently, I’m developing an animated half-hour TV show called I Hate Mondays for Amazon.

You can always pick out my cartoons because I draw people as neckless blobs. They go by as many names: lozenge people, weeble wobbles, egg people, potato people, thumb people, etc. I know them only as my children. That’s not to say that I don’t have my favorites...

Find this print here!

Tools: A bit of a prologue here. I grew up with Microsoft Paint and Corel Draw and every other god awful digital drawing platform from the ‘90s. And while I was no stranger to pens, pencils and good ol’ paper, I just kept coming back to digital formats. Weirdly, it felt more native to me— AND, if I screwed up, I could always hit undo. So, MS Paint led to the Adobe suite which led to Procreate on my iPad, and that was how I drew everything I did for The New Yorker. Then the pandemic hit. And long story short, I decided to dip back into the ink well, as it were. To try my hand at the analog drawing, now that I had the time. And it was the best decision I’ve ever made.

I’ve experimented with a lot of different tools, but I’d say my go-to drawing implement is my Koh-I-Noor Radiograph pen. I have a few different nibs - a .25 and a .35 - and that’s pretty much how I do all my inking. It’s kind of a challenge, to be honest, and I can’t say that I’ve mastered it. But if you’re patient with it, you get great results. I use Koh-I-Noor Rapidraw ink, but I think I might switch it up to their Ultradraw line. Rapidraw is supposed to dry quickly, which is nice, but it also means you’re more likely to get a clog in your pen, which has definitely happened to me.

I’ve become obsessed with charcoals. I love the dark, moody atmosphere you can create, which, juxtaposed with my dumb, whimsical looking thumb people, makes for a funny contrast. It’s surprising. And comedy is all about surprising people. I currently use 2B, 4B, and 6B charcoal pencils for shading and a mono zero mechanical eraser for highlights. For highlighting bigger areas, I use kneaded rubber erasers, which have been my friend ever since I picked up the Blitz Cartooning Kit when I was in 4th grade. I also use charcoal sticks, which I apply via paintbrushes. That allows me to get those nice overall light grays that are great for therapist offices, hospitals or cloudy days.

Another tool I have that comes in handy — these little two fingered gloves I got on Amazon. They’re made of... spandex? Something like that. Just search charcoal drawing gloves. I use one on each hand, and it really helps with smudging. I’m a smudgy kind of guy as it is, so I probably shouldn’t even be in this medium, but too late!

Tools I Wish I Could Use Better: All of the tools I just mentioned? Haha. It’s true though, I’m still only just getting to know charcoal. Still, even though I’m not an expert, if I had to choose one tool to be better at, it’s the Koh-I-Noor pen. It’s just so finicky, haha. That said, the quality of line you get is really nice. So I’m sticking with it for now.

Tools I Wish Existed: Honestly, I don’t think I have a good answer to this question. The thing that I like about drawing on paper as opposed to digitally is that you have to get really creative if you screw up. And that’s okay. You’re going to make mistakes and smudge and maybe even make a catastrophic mess. That’s part of the fun, if you ask me. It’s not about having the perfect tool for the job, it’s about coming up with ways to wrest the look you want out of the tools you have. Sure, sometimes it can feel like getting blood from a stone, but in the end I think it makes you a better artist, which is a big reason why I went back to drawing on paper to begin with. When you’re digital, you have a million different off-ramps to get to where you need to go. No mistake is fatal. And while that’s scary when you start out drawing outside of a digital platform, you get better with practice. So I embrace every screw up. It’s okay to start over. Because you’re not really starting over, you’re taking another step towards being a better artist.

Find this print here!

Tricks: I don’t know if this is a ‘trick,’ exactly—it might not even be a good idea—but one I’ve been doing is using my x-acto knife to scrape off areas that have become too charcoal heavy. I use a light touch, brushing the blade against the area I want to lighten up, but being careful not to slice the paper. Or your finger. Be careful out there.

Misc.: If you work digitally, I would encourage you to experiment with analog drawing utensils. At the very least, it’s humbling. Given how depressed most artists are, maybe this is bad advice, haha. But, in my opinion, it’s healthy to knock yourself down a peg or two! Especially if it’s in the service of making yourself a better artist.

Website, Etc.

Instagram

Website

Twitter

Find this print here!

[fifteenleads]

Scientific Method: a process that uses evidence and testing to investigate the unknown, usually following a set of steps in order to arrive at a conclusion.

(Way too tedious. And boring. And so unlike Dazai.)

— An SKK Gakuen AU.

Step One: Make observations.

Most treat it like a "Step Zero", though, to their teacher's dismay. An era of results and instant gratification guarantees zero patience for things that take time.

Chuuya's guilty as charged, of course.

In any case, Dazai is being annoying, as usual.

"Stop blowing raspberries into my ear," he hisses, ducking under his textbook. "It's disgusting as hell."

"Did not," Dazai singsongs in English to the tune of his annoying ringtone. How he manages to even carry a tune despite the bubblegum idol pop blasting from his huge headphones is a mystery, indeed.

Chuuya rolls his eyes at that. "Did, too." He lightly kicks Dazai's leg to get his attention. "Seriously, listen to me. This is important."

Dazai seems to have read his lips, pausing his iPod and taking his headphones off with an annoyed sigh. "What, chibi?"

Ugh, that's definitely intentional.

Chuuya lets that insult slide for now. "I need the budget for the props ASAP," he huffs, arms crossed. "The school festival is already next week, you know."

Five days, to be precise, but Dazai still acts like they still have five weeks. "Ask Higuchi to do it," he drawls, lazily waving Chuuya away. "We still have 120 hours, don't we?"

Dazai turns to him, raising an eye expectantly. Damn him and his lack of sense of urgency sometimes.

That said, though, he always manages to get shit done in time. Every single time, without fail. And Chuuya, in turn, is always baffled at how he does it, every single time.

Today he finds himself asking the same thing all over again. Ugh.

Dazai's still waiting for an answer.

Chuuya's way too tired for this. "120 and counting down," he answers in kind to prove his point. "I need to submit it by today, in case you forgot."

"Higuchi will do it," Dazai simply repeats, wearing his headphones again. "Come back here when you're done. I'll wait for you."

Chuuya opens his mouth, then closes it again. Inhale, exhale. Better.

"Fine," he relents for now, arranging his things. "You'd better still be awake, or I'll dropkick your bony ass to tomorrow. Got it?"

He only gets the same lazy wave in response as he leaves.

When Chuuya comes back to the classroom an hour later, Dazai is fast asleep at his desk, headphones awkwardly displaced around his face.

To be fair, Dazai never said yes at all.

Chuuya could only scratch his head at that. This is one mystery he doesn't feel like solving at all.

.

Step Two: Ask a question.

Easier said than done, really.

They've been seatmates for more than a year and co-class reps for half that time, but that's about it.

Chuuya had cursed his luck to high heaven and back, and Dazai knew it. Reveled in it, even.

Then he got used to it.

He prides himself in being a good team player for the most part, if nothing else. That said, though, this is the first major event they are handling together, and the weight of the responsibility isn't lost on him.

"—Oiiii. Earth to Chuuya?"

Dazai is staring holes into him, pointed nose a mere fingerbreadth from his. He quickly backs away in surprise, sending the stack of paperwork flying to the ground.

Dazai seemed to have expected this somehow, and he sinks back into his seat while breaking into an amused chuckle.

Chuuya slowly puts up a hand to his face, surely an embarrassing flush of red by now. This is what he gets for getting caught off-guard.

The meeting continues where it left off, with Dazai rattling off a string of numbers while Higuchi notes down everything. Luckily, no one else said anything anymore.

Chuuya's still in his own headspace as he walks home alone, having managed to successfully ditch Dazai for once. He stops at a vending machine for a can of iced coffee, since he'll be pulling another all-nighter.

He gets the hazelnut-flavored one by mistake. A reflex, really.

Downing it in one go, Chuuya grimaces at the nutty aftertaste at the back of his throat. He still doesn't see what Dazai likes about it.

That being said.

Since when has he been this preoccupied with thoughts of Dazai?

"Ever since," a voice from the back of his head whispers.

Chuuya feels his face heat up again at the thought. Traitor.

Maybe he's still only flustered about earlier. He also hasn't slept enough the past days. Also stress from festival prep.

Or, he's only confused. Yup, that's definitely it.

That instantly makes him feel better.

.

Step Three: Formulate a hypothesis.

1. Dazai's annoying.    2. Dazai's very annoying.    3. Dazai's very, very annoying.

This one goes into the wastebasket, of course— as if he didn't already know that.

Chuuya's eyes trail to Dazai as he reads aloud a paragraph from the textbook.

It gets increasingly difficult to follow along with the lesson at hand when he's absolutely distracted by that rich, warm voice, carefully enunciating each word in the passage.

"Thank you, Dazai-kun," the teacher nods in satisfaction. "You may sit down."

As Dazai takes his seat, he turns his gaze ever so slightly in Chuuya's direction and their eyes briefly meet.

No sparks fly in all directions, but Chuuya feels a faint jolt of electricity run from his chest outward to every inch of his body.

Then Dazai smirks— the bastard.

1. He's definitely riling me up.

Dazai's smug face lasts only for a fraction of a second before it reverts back to one of disinterest.

Chuuya definitely knows better, though: from the dip of his eyebrows to the twitching of the corner of his lip.

2. He can be serious as hell.

Chuuya ends up mulling over his list through last period. He doesn't notice that class is over until Dazai sneaks up on him and quickly blows into his ear.

"Argh— goddamnit Dazai, every single time!"

Dazai sticks out his tongue in response. "That's for ditching me yesterday."

Chuuya groans in disbelief. Petty much?

He will never understand what he even sees in Dazai at all, at this rate.

Surprisingly, the very thought does the trick for him, and he takes note of it in his notebook at once.

"What's that?" Dazai attempts to peek over his shoulder, but Chuuya manages to evade him, snapping the notebook shut and glaring at him. "None of your business."

It only makes Dazai laugh. "Fine, then. I'll find out by next week."

"Is Nakahara here?" Kunikida from the next class calls from outside. Oh yeah, meeting.

"Gotta go," he excuses himself, half-relieved.

And that was that— for now.

Chuuya doesn't look at the third item on his new list until he's home. It's... strange and vague and unlikely as hell, but there it is anyway, in bold, red ink:

3. This might be a crush (???)

.

Step Three-point-five: Refine the hypothesis.

This is absurd, Chuuya thinks.

He's taken to scribbling his thoughts on a dog-eared spare notebook, since Googling "Do I have a crush on my classmate" was evidently useless.

The result ended up looking like a conspiracy map. Ugh.

Chuuya considers his three-and-a-half pages of chicken scratch before tearing them off.

It feels like he's dug himself into a hole at this point. Not that he minds staying in it, if it means he doesn't have to see Dazai tomorrow.

School festival's tomorrow, though.

Double ugh.

Chuuya honestly thought he was already too old for this shit. No, really.

Now his 15-year-old palpitating... red organ thing is laughing at him for it.

(He still chugs the rest of his coffee anyway. Mmm.)

Running won't solve anything, Nakahara.

Inhale, exhale.

Back to work:

H0 (null): He doesn't have a crush on Dazai. H1 (alternative): He has a crush on Dazai.

There, much more... straightforward.

Dazai would probably laugh at him for misusing a stat concept like this, but it serves his purpose just fine. It's not like he'll find out anyway.

It's one or the other.

(He'd have to decide sooner or later, anyway. Best to strike while the iron is hot.)

.

Step Four: Gather data.

(Because there's no time to experiment.)

It's only Day One, but micromanaging proves to be more challenging than expected. It comes with being second-in-command though, so Chuuya takes it all in stride.

Dazai, on the other hand, is on his phone, mindlessly scrolling and tapping and humming to himself between listening to the team's reports and ordering everyone else around.

Magnificent bastard's a born leader.

Chuuya peeks at his own phone; stopwatch app's still running

Dazai's been on his mind for... 6 hours now.

(No, really. Despite all the chaos. Yes, he's been keeping track.)

Others:

1. They've been using the same shampoo. The smell of activated charcoal has never been this alluring.    2. They think in the same way, apparently. Higuchi of all people had noticed. "You realized just now?"

And... And!...

3. They've been sharing breakfast for a year now. Bites out of the same bread, gulps from the same bottle of water, the works.

It makes Chuuya run for the nearest faucet to scrub off the blush on his face.

He's only left with cat-scratch nail marks and a soaking wet shirt for it, so clearly he shouldn't have bothered.

Welcome to adolescence.

Dazai is mildly amused when Chuuya returns to the classroom. "Had fun, chibi?"

No thanks to you, stupid beanpole.

Day Two isn't any different, but they're more used to the work by then, so they manage to close up much earlier.

Chuuya and Dazai are the last to leave the classroom, having finished the stocks inventory for Day 3 while everyone else went to enjoy the festival.

It's five PM.

"Ah, freedom!" Dazai yawns loudly as he says this, stretching his arms upward before swinging them around.

Chuuya ducks to the side to avoid getting hit. "Ugh, watch it!"

To his credit, Dazai drops his arms back at once. "Oh. Sorry."

He adds a smile to that. It's beautiful.

How hadn't he noticed that before?

The early sunset bathes the corridor in pale red-orange, as well as their white polo shirts. Dazai's messy hair seems to shine, too, if anything.

Chuuya's reaching up to touch it before he realizes. Greasy but soft.

Also: "You have freckles."

Dazai's confused at the sudden contact. He doesn't withdraw, though. "You, too." A smile. "Faint ones, as small as you are, across your nose."

Then he leans in and traces the cat-scratch marks on Chuuya's cheeks. "You've been distracted since last week. What happened?"

.

Step Five: Analyze the data.

Step Six: Draw a conclusion.

Step Seven: Share your findings.

...

Wait, wait, wait.

The moment feels like a jolt of electricity and the numbness after, and then some. Those who said people short-circuit were onto something, after all.

Chuuya doesn't register anything for the entire minute Dazai shakes him back to reality.

Then something wet goes into his ear.

He lets out an unholy screech right there and then, instinctively covering his ear in disgust. Dazai, too, has a finger in both of his, face contorted into something between a wince and a grin.

A beat.

Two more.

And Chuuya laughs his head off. He doesn't know anymore.

Dazai does, too, and they devolve into a pair of crazy hyenas— not that anyone would notice.

It's only a good five minutes later that they catch their breath, slumped on the wall, leaning into each other for support.

"You okay now?" Dazai asks him, still trying not to laugh.

Chuuya only huffs loudly in reply. Dazai takes it as a yes.

"Now that that's out of our system,"— and he goes back to business mode— "will you tell me what's going on?"

Hypothesis 2: Dazai can be serious at times.

(He has always been, though.

Chuuya only refused to see it.)

The next thing he knows, their faces are too close for comfort.

Chuuya takes a nervous gulp. It felt more like gasping for air, the way Dazai frowns at him for it.

Hypothesis 1: Dazai likes to rile him up.

(Maybe? Why, though?

Now he's not so sure anymore.)

Maybe it would be wiser to just forget it. This only happened because he overthought many things.

There's still time to back out.

Dazai won't let him, though, if the intense glare he has on now is any indication.

Inhale, exhale.

Moment of truth:

"Here's the deal" Chuuya starts, momentarily avoiding Dazai's gaze as he finds the right words to say. "We've worked together for so long now. And yes, I still think you're annoying as hell."

Dazai merely hums at that, as if he were expecting it. He doesn't say anything, though.

"A lot of times, though, you pull through. Get things done— magnificently at that. I really don't know how you do it, sometimes.

"The past week made me think about these things. Maybe even earlier than that. Who knows? Does it even matter?

"In any case, I realized something."

By now, the sunset is as deep red as his cheeks, and he feels himself burning up inside.

(Running now won't solve anything.

One or the other.)

Chuuya meets Dazai's eyes.

It's now or never.

"I like you," he says with finality. "And that's all you're getting out of me for now."

Chuuya lets out another huff to prove his point, and holds his breath. And waits.

A beat.

Two more.

It's Dazai who sighs in relief.

And what a sight to behold: his lithe form slumping forward against Chuuya's, the tension in his muscles dissipating with the remnants of the afternoon heat.

"Whew," Dazai finally manages after a while, "you finally said it."

"... Huh?"

"I told you, right? I'll find out soon."

"You didn't read my notes."

"Of course not," Dazai laughs. "You /were/ mumbling a little too loud to yourself these days, though. It was easy to piece things together."

Ugh.

Chuuya rubs at his temples. If only he has something to chuck into Dazai's face right now.

It doesn't explain Dazai's exaggerated reaction just now, though...which he isn't at all trying to cover up, unlike all the times he played pranks before. Unless..

...Oh.

It takes Chuuya only a moment: "You—"

"Yeah," Dazai breathes out. "And that's all you're getting from me, too."

No problems there. Chuuya likes straightforward people.

He still headbutts Dazai for it, though. "Payback," he says simply before he hears complaints.

"Fair enough," Dazai mutters under his breath. "We even now?"

"Yeah."

A bit anticlimactic, all things considered, but Chuuya finds he likes it, too.

Now that that's out of his system, though... "Now what?"

It's a pretty loaded question, and they both know it. No one just suddenly admits and enters into... whatever this is, without a plan.

Dazai stares back, just as cluelessly— but not for long: "I think I know what."

Chuuya decides he still doesn't like that grin at all.

"Remember the lab primer in science? There's a certain procedure we follow to investigate what we don't know."

This time, it's Chuuya who slumps. Good lord.

.

Step Eight: Start over.

.

.

.

For Kiro.

[bangtanloverboys]

“There’s something tragic about you” // jhs

summary - after your usual model cancels on you for your art project, your best friend comes to the rescue.

pairing - jung hoseok x gender neutral!art student!reader

genre - fluff (read warnings tho)

word count - 1.7k

warning - nudity, like 1 swear word, kissing, the classic titantic reference

author’s note - this was a sentence starter from this prompt list and it was sent in by @mlkydrms​ not sure if you wanted angst but this is what came out of it. hope you like it!

If you told yourself this morning that your best friend was going to be modeling for one of your art projects, you wouldn’t have believed it. Why? Because your final had to include a nude model and no way was Jung Hoseok going to be nude in front of you. 

Yet here you were, 4 pm in the afternoon in your living room waiting for Hoseok to exit the bathroom.

Originally, you were supposed to have Jin be your model. He has been your model partner for a few projects now, he was just effortless to draw, especially his details. Unfortunately, he got the stomach flu and needed to stay home to recuperate. You were no stranger when it came to cancellations and rain checks when working with models, however the project was due in the next three days. You stupidly put aside all your project to try and focus on your other courses, as did Seokjin. But now there was not enough time for you to fully pull together a full piece with Jin being sick. 

This had led to you slowly freaking out, before you reached full blown panic mode, you called Hoseok. While he wasn’t always the best with words, he was a great listener and even the smallest thing from him made you smile. As you told him your predicament, the line went silent for a few moments. 

“What if. . . I was your model?”

“Excuse me what?” You were stunned at his suggestion. “Hobi. . . it’s a nude painting I need to work on-”

“I know.” He stated, how he was speaking so calmly about this blew your mind. “Your project is due soon, and you need a model. I’m more than happy to help, unless you don’t want me to?”

You bit your lip in thought. He was right, you needed a model and needed one now. You could ask one of your other friends, but here was your best friend offering himself up on a silver plate. Letting out a sigh, you agreed. Hoseok said he’d be over in a bit so that gave you plenty of time to set up and prepare yourself to see. . .all of him. 

Soon as he arrived though, there was this sort of air of awkwardness. You instructed him to go into the bathroom to strip and there was a towel for him to cover himself. He nodded and quickly excused himself. You could see it in the tips of his ears that he was just as nervous as you were about this, seeing him naked was one thing you really weren’t sure about. Because as cliche as it is, you held feelings for him. You already held back on your feelings in fear of it hurting your friendship, but how would seeing him naked impact your friendship.

The clearing of a throat pulled you from your thoughts, you turned your head to see Hoseok standing there, his golden chest revealed to the world and a white towel held tightly around his waist. You resisted the urge to drool as he shuffled into the living room to where you set up the makeshift studio. 

“Uhh where do you want me?” 

You quickly looked between him and the set up. “Sit on the box, back facing me.” You watched as he quickly discarded the towel around his waist and followed your instruction. “Bend your left leg, tuck your right underneath it. Right arm goes to the back and drape your left arm over your bent leg.” Hoseok assumed the pose but he still looked a bit stiff. “Hobi, you can back out if you want to. . .”

“I’m fine!” His voice squeaked. “I mean, I’m fine just. . .new experiences, right?”

You gave him a light smile and nodded. “For the both of us. Now relax your shoulders, you look like you’re being held at gunpoint.” That surely got a kick out of him, his shoulders bounced as he chuckled. “Stop moving!”

“Alright, alright.” He rolled his eyes at you. You could feel his stare as you walked over to your seat and picked up your canvas and charcoal. “You gonna draw me like one of your French girls?”

“Oh my god, how long have you been holding that in?” You rolled your eyes at the cheesy predictable joke. Hoseok just laughed at your reaction, you narrowed your eyes at him and held up the charcoal threateningly. “Sit still and don’t smile!”

Then you got to work, you eyed him carefully before making any strict movement on the canvas. With him being a dance major, it was no surprise to you that he was fit, but you never really did appreciate Hoseok muscle build before now; you were glad you were finally given the excuse. He wasn’t built too big, but there was a softness around each and every edge of him. 

The two of you just sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being of your sketching. You started to feel his eyes on you as you were working on his torso. “Eyes off me, Hoseok.”

“So you get to eye me up while I have to look at the wall? How cruel,” he tsked, but he followed your order and looked back away. “You just look cute when your concentrating.” 

You nearly snap your charcoal pencil in half. “C-come again?”

“You do this really cute thing where you stick your tongue out and scrunch your nose whenever you’re trying to work.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. You could feel your face flush at his words. “You’re even cuter when you blush.”

“Where is this coming from, exactly?” You ask, trying your best to continue the piece and not fuck it up. 

“I dunno, the fact I’m not wearing pants at the moment has strangely given me the nerve to flirt with you.” He looked at you from the side of his eyes and raised his eyebrows at you.

“And on that note, I’d like to ask if we could put this conversation on hold until you have your pants back on.” He nodded and the silence resumed. 

The torso and arms finished, all you had left was his head. You squint your eyes as you try to find and take in every last detail of his face. The curve of his nose to the sharpness of his jawline to each loose strand of his dark locks. Hoseok really was a man to behold. While you didn’t have a good angle on his eyes, you focused really hard on them, trying to capture him completely. 

“Aand, done.” You said, signing off the piece and dating it at the bottom. With the word, he relaxed his arms and let out a sigh. You watched as he leaned over to grab his towel to once again, cover his modesty. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders back. “Sore?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how Jin-hyung does it.” He groaned, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and ease the ache.

“Yoga, and a long hot shower afterwards.” You say honestly. “He used to take them at my place but after the amount of projects, my water bill was going up so I had to kick him out.”

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound half bad right now.” He noted.

“What? The long hot shower or me kicking you out?” You laugh at his strange statement. 

“The hot shower,” he snarkily replied. “Can I see it?”

“Oh yeah sure,” canvas in hand, you take a few steps over to where Hoseok sat and hold out the canvas for him to see. He let out a silent ‘wow’ as he dragged his eyes over the drawing, drinking each and every detail. When his eyes came back up to his face, he had a puzzled look on his face. 

“Can I ask something?” 

“Why is something wrong?” You quickly looked back to the painting and tried to spot the possible mistake you made. 

“No no no, there’s nothing wrong but, I just want to know what you like best about the drawing.” You watched as his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“Are you asking in general or because it’s you?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Both possibly,” he laughed lightly at you. “What is it?”

“Hmm,” you take a good look at the picture. “Your expression. There’s something tragic about you, something beautifully tragic that just sort of draws me in.”

You look back up to him and he’s staring right back at you. “Beautifully tragic?”

“Shut up,” you place the canvas off to the side. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he moved his head to try and look at you. “I want to know what the artist sees.”

You sigh and take both of your charcoal covered hands and place them on either side of his face. You look over his features, trying to find the words to describe what you mean. “Your eyes. Your eyes look like you’re in love, yet you hold back.” Slowly, Hoseok’s face came closer to yours. “Like you’re scared of what might happen if you. . .”

He was mere centimeters away from you now, his breath was ghosting over your lips. “If I. . . ?” His eyes were still locked with yours.

“If you let yourself love.” You finished; with his face still in your hands, you trace your thumb over his cheek bone. 

Hoseok’s eyes dropped down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. With your permission, he closes the distance between you and presses his lips to yours. Your hands move from his cheeks to his hair, making purchase in his lock. His arms snake around your waist, trying to pull you closer, but due to the awkward angle, it quickly grew uncomfortable and you both pulled away.

“So, are we gonna talk about it now?” Hoseok laughed, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know, are you wearing pants?” You snorted, “I meant what I said, go put pants on and we can have that conversation.”

“I believe you threw out that reasoning when you kissed me,” he retorted, but he complied and sat up, ready to get changed. But the sudden movement caused him to groan, “Second thought, I might need a hot shower.”

“Oh my god, just go!” You laughed at him as he stiffly made his way back to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes as you heard the shower turn on and let out a sigh, maybe it was a good thing you had a nude assignment.

[multishipperlove]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord Characters: Caduceus Clay, Fjord Additional Tags: Unrequited Crush, First Dates, Except Caduceus doesn't know it's a date, And also Fjord is a terrible cook, Food, Miscommunication, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Aromantic Character, Happy Ending Summary:

Fjord tries to impress Caduceus with a home cooked dinner on their first date, but quickly has to realise that more often then not, things do not go as planned. And as it turns out, almost setting his kitchen on fire is not the worst part of the evening. Or is it?

_________________________

Fjord checked his hair for the third time in the last twenty minutes, nervously bustling back and forth between his kitchen and the living room and somehow getting stuck in front of the mirror every single time. The table was set, most of the food was done, the breadsticks were still in the oven, there wasn't anything left for him to do, and yet he couldn't get himself to just sit down and wait. Caduceus would arrive any minute now, any minute, and his nerves were definitely getting the better of him.

His phone buzzed, but instead of the “almost there” he'd been hoping for his screen greeted him with a message from Beau, a simple “hey, you can do it” followed by a thumbs up emoji, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes a little as he put it back in his pocket. He needed more patience, Fjord told himself, not dignifying Beau's message with a response for now, and instead checking on the breadsticks again.

Not ready yet. Were they rising at all? He wasn't sure.

When the doorbell finally rang it was the only thing saving him from answering Beau after all, and in less than a second he'd cleared his apartment and was already ripping open the door, not quite able to hide the dorky grin on his face when he saw Caduceus in his usual relaxed attire. Gray pants stained from the cemetery, the long sleeves of his shirt still bearing the marks of being around fresh soil and moss and flowers all day, and the smell of the Savalier Woods seemingly following him everywhere. Perfect, in Fjord's eyes.

“Did you work overtime again?” he asked, offering to take Caduceus' jacket as he let the firbolg step inside and carefully hanging it up beside his own. “I thought Clarabelle was taking your shift today.” “Ah, you know how it is,” Caduceus hummed in answer. “Sometimes there is more work than expected, and I didn't want to leave her alone with all of it. But I'm here now, so that's nice.” Fjord chuckled softly, leading him through the living room and to the table. “It is. I got almost everything done, too, so you can just sit down and I'll join you in a second.”

“Oh, well, thank you. That's very nice,” Caduceus agreed again, and continued talking while Fjord disappeared into the kitchen once more. “You know, I'm still a bit surprised you offered to cook dinner, I know you don't do this a lot. I would have been happy to help, too.”

Blushing a dark green and rubbing his neck a little, glad that Caduceus couldn't see him at the moment, Fjord had to admit he was right. “Well, no, I don't. But I, uh... wanted to do this properly, you know?” He picked up the first two plates he'd prepared, noticing with a grimace that the food had gone cold by now. But maybe cold didn't have to mean inedible, so he took it out to the table anyway. “I stuck to the recipes, mostly, so we should be good.”

He put both plates down and settled in his chair across from Caduceus, cheeks still feeling warm, and the calm smile Cad was giving him didn't help the matter. After a moment he realised he was staring, and also that the candles on the table were still unlit, making the dim light in the room seem more awkward than the romantic vibe he had been trying to go for.

“Oh, shoot, lemme fix this real quick,” he muttered, fishing a lighter out of his pocket that had once probably belonged to either Yasha or Beau, he wasn't sure, and quickly remedied that. “There, that's better...”

“Oh, yes, much better. Now I can see what I'm eating,” Caduceus agreed, sounding amused. As he picked up his fork and was about to dig in though, Fjord could see a brief frown cross his face. He looked confused. “Actually, what are we eating? This doesn't... I'm not sure what this is.”

Fjord winced a little, feeling his ears grow hot in embarrassment. “It's, uh. It's some sweet potato appetizer thing, I... alright, yeah, the veggies might have gotten a bit mushy, but I'm sure it's still good, so-”

Before he could make it any worse Caduceus already nodded, his tone reassuring as he answered. “Of course, I'm sure it is! I was not trying to imply anything else, my apologies.”

“No, don't apologise, it was a fair question. It turned out a little gray, I suppose.” Already resisting the urge to retreat to the kitchen, maybe under the guise of checking on the breadsticks again, Fjord picked up his knife and fork as well and cut a piece off the... thing, on his plate. At least there was food to focus on.

But as they both tried the first bite he got the next unpleasant surprise. The texture was awful, the taste non-existent, and he could see Caduceus pausing for a second before actually swallowing it down.

“Well, maybe with some salt-”

Fjord waved him off, deciding he wasn't as brave and spitting it back into his napkin. “Nope, this is horrible, you can say it.”

“No salt then,” Caduceus agreed, somehow still looking amused while Fjord was starting to regret ever inviting him in the first place. “But you said this was an appetizer, right? We can just move on to the main dish, it's all good.”

“Right, right... sure, let me just put this away then,” Fjord sighed, still giving Caduceus a smile though as he took the plates back to the kitchen. Some optimism couldn't hurt, and so far Cad didn't seem to mind the chaos all that much. He was willing to take that as a good sign.

Disposing of the appetizer in the trash can with a sigh he then put together new plates, taking the vegan fish out of the covered pan (a little darker than intended), getting the rice out of it's pot (was it supposed to be that soggy?) and just forgoing the veggies completely because those had already been part of the appetizer. The lemon sauce was the only thing he had actually taste tested though, and he knew that one was okay. It was edible.

Coming back to Caduceus he placed it down with a little flourish, smiling again as it got a laugh out of his friend. “Here you go. Something salmon adjacent, with lemon butter sauce, bedded on wild rice. I hope it's better than the last try.”

“It can only go up from here,” Caduceus replied with a smile, and Fjord settled down again. And while he wasn't wrong, it didn't necessarily make the main dish taste any better.

What was true for the sauce could also be said for the dish in general. Edible, but not great. The dry salmon substitute seemed to be in a competition with the soggy rice about which texture was worse, and the sauce was unremarkable enough to count as the best part of it all. Still, they managed some bits of not-awkward conversation while they picked at their food, and Fjord was starting to feel hope again, when Caduceus suddenly stopped mid sentence and sniffed the air.

“Do you smell that?”

It took him a moment, but then he realised it too. Smoke.

“The breadsticks! Shit-” Jumping up from his chair Fjord hurried back into the kitchen, having to tug his shirt over his nose almost immediately as the air got thick and his eyes watered from the soot that had gathered in the small room. But he found his way to the oven and turned it off, glad to see that they weren't any flames at least. Caduceus, who'd been trailing after him, had enough sense to check in with him on that first before he pushed the little window in the kitchen wide open, making it easier again to breath.

Still kneeling in front of the oven Fjord grabbed for a dish towel and pulled the rack out, seeing the blackened, miserable remains of what had once been bread dough. With a long suffering sigh he rested his head against the open oven door. “Damn it. I'm so sorry, Cad. This is all going horribly wrong.”

At this point he should have offered to drive his friend home, or just let him leave, anything that put him out of the danger of Fjord's own cooking, but he was hoping against his better judgement that maybe Caduceus hadn't given up on him yet, especially as the firbolg waved his apology off.

“Don't be, mistakes happen all the time,” Cad assured him, somehow still smiling throughout this whole disaster. “But I'm starting to think you could really use some help in the kitchen.”

He almost sounded amused, and Fjord would have been offended had it been anyone else. But with their situation being what it was he just scoffed and shook his head a little. “I'd say so, yeah. But since there's no saving this, and I know the fish tastes like shit too, how about we just order some take out?” he offered. “I'll pay, of course, and you can choose whatever you want.”

Caduceus considered it for a moment, looking around the kitchen, but then shook his head to Fjord's surprise. “No, you already paid for all these ingredients, and there's no sense in wasting them, is there.”

“Well, no,” he started, “but you can't honestly tell me you want to eat-” And he gestured to everything around them. The burned charcoal sticks of bread, the soggy rice still in it's pot, the mushy veggies. “This.”

“No,” Caduceus agreed, pulling a face as well. “But I'm sure there are enough of the original ingredients left to do something else with it, and this time we'll do it together.” Looking over to Fjord he saw his sceptical expression, and just smiled. “You'll see, good food isn't all that difficult. You were trying to make bread there, right?”

“Yeah, trying being the key word here,” Fjord muttered, finally picking the blackened dough off the baking paper with a fork to dispose of it as well. “But alright Houdini, teach me how to cook. What do we need?”

Caduceus smile grew and he reached for the discarded apron hanging over the door, tying it behind his back with practised ease. The sight finally made Fjord's frown disappear as well, and his heart lightened a little with his friend's willingness to take the situation in stride. Maybe a cooking lesson wasn't such a bad first date either.

“Alright then,” Caduceus hummed, “first of all we need a mixing bowl. Do you have any leftover yeast?” Fjord checked his drawer but came up short, not that it seemed to matter though. “That's alright. How about butter milk and baking soda?”

“Baking soda's the stuff you put in cakes and cookies, right?” Fjord muttered, brows drawing together as he checked his little stash of baking ingredients. “Yeah, I have that. And buttermilk's in the fridge.”

Seeming very pleased with that Caduceus then asked for an egg, some flour, and a little bit of butter and sugar to complete the dough. As he put it all together he told Fjord exactly how the buttermilk and baking soda would interact to let the dough rise, and why, unlike yeasted dough, this one didn't have to to be set aside and rest. But all those things went over Fjord's head almost completely as he watched Caduceus' finger knead the dough in an almost mesmerising pattern.

He wasn't done after that, either. Fjord expected the lesson to be over as the bread went into the oven (and boy did it already look better than his poor attempt at breadsticks), but Caduceus just turned to him with a cheerful smile and briefly wiped his hands on one of the towels. “Time for the main dish then.”

“Wait, really?” Fjord asked. “I don't have anymore of the vegan fish, Cad, and the rest... I don't know, I don't really know of any other recipes we could use.”

“We already agreed that's what I'm here for, did we not,” Caduceus reminded him happily. “Get me whatever vegetables you have left please, and we'll see what we can do.”

With a slight shrug Fjord did as he'd asked, coming back from the fridge with some bell pepper, red beet, and a handful of mushrooms. “This is what I got. Do you think the rice can be saved?”

“Honest answer? No. But cooking new rice would take too long, so we'll use what we have even if it's going to make the texture a little weird,” Cad told him, looking surprisingly pleased with the assortment of vegetables he'd brought though. “I'll show you one of my family's favourites, wild fried rice. The improvised version, but the next time you come over I can show you how to do it properly.” Fjord blushed again, rubbing the back of his neck a little. “Oh, sure, I'd- I would really love that, Cad. Here, let me help with the prep.”

With the two of them working together, cutting everything up didn't take more than a few minutes, and afterwards Fjord was once more happy to stand by and listen as Caduceus took care of the actual cooking part. It didn't take long for the kitchen to take on a rather pleasant smell again, driving the last few remnants of smoke and misery out, and while Fjord finished his last few tasks he looked back to Caduceus with a smile.

“Hey, Cad? Really, thank you, this has already been a way better evening than I expected.”

“It's nice,” Caduceus agreed, sounding just as pleased. “Again, I'm not sure why you insisted on cooking all alone, but I'd be happy to teach you more things in the future.” Fjord chuckled. “Hey, I already told you. I wanted to do it properly, this being our first date and all. I just wanted you to have a nice evening without having to work for once.”

“Yes, yes, our- wait, our what now?”

Fjord stopped what he was doing and looked up, seeing that Caduceus had paused as well, that confused look on his face again. “Our first date,” he repeated, slowly. “I... I asked you if you wanted to go out with me, Cad, remember? I asked you out for dinner, and then suggested I cook instead. And you said yes... remember?” The confused look didn't go away, and Fjord wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Oh.” Slowly though, understanding seemed to dawn on his friend, and the confusion made way for embarrassment. “Oh. No, I didn't- that’s not really- I’m sorry if I somehow lead you on?” he stammered, and Fjord wasn't sure if he had ever heard Caduceus stammer before.

“No! God, no, I'm just-” Great, now he was stammering too, and his face felt hot again, and surely this couldn't get any worse. “I just thought, you know, all the time at the temple, and at the diner, and... God, Cad, I'm so fucking stupid.” Fjord groaned softly, putting the spices he'd been getting ready aside and rubbing his face for a moment, trying to catch a clear thought. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. Or made things more clear, or... or something. This is on me.”

“Hey now, don't,” Caduceus replied, his tone gentle again, and at least not sounding as embarrassed anymore. “Don't do that. This is just a little misunderstanding, right? But if you would prefer for me to leave now-”

“No, please, stay,” Fjord replied quickly, not even letting him finish that sentence. He finally turned to face him again, leaning against the counter a little. “There's no reason for you to leave. I mean, the bread's in the oven, we actually got some decent food now, so... no hurt feelings, right?”

Caduceus was still frowning, but before he could speak up Fjord stopped him. “Alright, hey, I might be... a little disappointed. I can admit that. But I'm a big boy, Cad, I can deal with it, I promise. And besides, your friendship means way more to me. We're still friends... right?”

Eyes softening a little Caduceus stepped forward, placing his hand over Fjord's. “Of course we are. I never wanted it to be anything else, and again, my deepest apology if-”

“No, come on, we need to stop apologizing at some point,” Fjord chuckled, lifting his other hand to give Caduceus a gentle pat on the shoulder before he pulled back a little, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes as he ran a hand down his face again. “Both of us. As you said, it was a misunderstanding. Maybe in a few weeks we can already think back to this and laugh about it.”

“Maybe. But it's alright if you need some time for that,” Caduceus assured him, and Fjord just sighed this time.

“Yeah, maybe I will,” he muttered, giving Caduceus another smile in an attempt to seem reassuring. “But for now, let's eat. I do want to try that family favourite recipe of yours.”

Humming softly in reply Caduceus picked up the spices he'd been mixing, adding them to the pan and stirring it all in before he lowered the heat. “According to my mother, you would be in luck,” he told him, his tone still gentle. “This is supposed to work quite well against all kinds of heartaches and disappointment.”

“Oh yeah?” Fjord asked, his smile turning a little more genuine. “Next time you really gotta show me how to do it properly then.”

“Next time,” Caduceus promised, which was really all Fjord had needed to hear. As long as they stayed friends, as long as there was a next time to get together, to cook, or watch stupid movies, or something, it would be okay. He could deal with the rest. And as they settled down to eat, with the still warm, home-made bread, and the fried rice that was every bit as good as Caduceus had promised him, Fjord was glad to see most of the awkwardness between them leave again.

If a good meal could really help with smoothing things over this easily, Fjord thought to himself, he needed to learn to be a better cook.

[thran-duils]

Watch Me Burn (P.5)

Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Five) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 1,776 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness Author’s Note: Italics are the past!

Chap 4 || Chap 6 || Masterpost (mobile) || Fic masterpost

You keened as Sam’s fingers dipped between your thighs, toying with your dripping sex.

“Bet that gentleness feels real good after that beating you just got,” Sam said, his voice rumbling low in his chest. His fingers gripped your reddened ass and this time you whimpered. He chuckled moving back down to finger you. “Well, despite that throbbing ass, your pussy seems to have loved it.”

His hand free hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you away from the couch you were kneeling in front of. At your ear he asked, “I didn’t hear an answer.”

“Yes, I liked it. I loved it,” you told him breathlessly.

Sam smiled against your skin, moving to lay sloppy kisses on your neck. His hand was gone, and he held you tight against him, rutting his erect cock. He quickly positioned the two of you, you bent over the couch, him kneeling behind you. You heard him opening the condom packet and he was in you with ease with how wet you were. Your range of motion was limited due to him holding you against the couch and your handcuffed hands.

He was not gentle like he had been when he had been touching you. He was rough, calloused.

“What a little slut,” he husked, his fingers digging into your sides.

He was being too rough. Maybe if you could reposition yourself…

“Pineapple,” you choked out.

Sam’s only response was to reach up, grasping at your breasts, squeezing, and groaning in pleasure.

Maybe he had not heard you.

“Pineapple,” you said louder this time, gasping when he gave a particularly rough thrust.

Sam’s hand clamped over your mouth and your eyes bugged in surprise. His grip was suffocating, and it only served to hold you more tightly in place for him to continue to drive himself up into you.

“So close. So close, baby,” he grunted, his thrusts deepening, and you protested against his hand. But you still went unheard.

He came loudly, stiffening as his cock twitching inside you. The moments dragged as he held you there, pinned as he circled back down to earth from his high.

“What the fuck?” you snapped; your lip curled in anger.

Sam snorted and jested, “Jesus, Y/N. I’m sorry. I thought you had gotten off with me. But no need to be that rude.”

“You didn’t listen! I said pineapple!”

“I heard,” Sam told you lightly and your face dropped, anger melting to dismay. He was not looking at you now, tossing the used condom in the trash can next to the couch. He caught sight of your face and his shoulders dropped. “Oh, come on, Y/N. I was close – I thought you were too. It was only a few moments more.” You still said nothing, your gaze falling away from him. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You heard him walking away, his footsteps moving down the hallway towards his bedroom.

You did not come.

He had not listened to you when you used the safe word.

He did not care.

<> <> <>

Castiel’s fingers wove through your hair, intoxication evident in his charcoal lined eyes.

The two of you had chosen a date night out at an underground club, one Castiel thought would be particularly sexually arousing. From the moment you had walked in, you had been unable to keep your eyes from wandering around the room as Castiel led you to an empty booth. A stranger in leather had winked at the two of you as you passed by as their partner sat on the plush carpet at their feet.

“Are you okay?” you questioned. The two of you had had some drinks; his had been doubles though.

He chuckled, leaning back in the booth. “How observant of you, my love. So caring.” Castiel pulled you closer to him on the booth, you sliding easily to him in the coat you were wearing and the leather of the seat. His kisses were deep, passion woven in.

His fingers found one of the buttons of your jacket and you stopped his hand. He pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Are you okay?” he asked pointedly.

You shot a quick look around the room and turned your attention back to him. No one in particular was paying any attention to the two of you but if you removed your jacket…

“I’ve been in lingerie in public before at parties, Cas, so yeah. But… I mean… me open like this? It might end up irking you. I know you.”

Castiel gave a throaty chuckle, his hand caressing the side of your face. “That you do. No, this is a place I’m not worried about that.”

He seemed sincere enough and what else could you do besides proceed? Slowly, you shrugged the long, tan coat off your shoulders and tossed it aside. You leaned back, wearing only your lingerie. Crotchless lingerie, that you kept in mind and you kept your legs crossed. That was for Castiel to see and only him. Until he gave permission for you to reveal it if he wished it, that had been one of the rules.

He pulled your leg across his lap, holding you close. Your bare pussy was against him, hidden. It was just for him it seemed for now.

His fingers ghosted along your shoulder, tracing down to your waist. There was an insatiable look in his eyes and all you wanted to do was tame it.

“Are you comfortable, angel?”

“Yes, with you,” you answered honestly.

His smile was warm.

<> <> <>

You walked into the office, skirt and shirt pressed. You had made it a point to not be late to this office. Being late within the first couple months at the last office you thought would have cost you your job. You did not want to start off here with that same type of feeling, regardless if it had not amounted to anything other than a small nick in your file back there.

“Y/N!” Robbie called from the front desk, grabbing your attention. You changed direction, going towards him instead of towards your office. He gestured at the flowers. “These were delivered bright and early. For you.”

“Oh, they’re lovely!” you said happily, placing your purse down and running your fingers around the different assortment of flowers gently. “Was there…” you trailed off seeing a card sticking out of the top of the bouquet. You pulled it off and opened the card quickly.

Sorry about dinner last night. Hope you have a good day. I’ll make it up to you tonight. – Castiel

You exhaled, a smile tugging despite yourself. You had made a special dinner to celebrate your sexiversary and the bar had unexpectedly gotten swamped due to a Thursday night football game. The sports bar down the street had gotten closed down because of a health code violation and inevitably, the crowd had to migrate. Castiel had missed dinner and you had gone to bed alone. He must have ordered this last night to make sure it was in the flower shop’s queue to be here now.

You put the card back and Robbie asked, “Someone making up to you?”

Laughing, you asked him, “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s a classic move. Smart,” Robbie smirked as the phone rang. He turned to answer and you picked up the flowers to go to your office.

After situating them, you made your way to the break room to see if someone had made coffee. And they luckily had and you made yourself up a cup. You greeted a couple coworkers in passing as you made your way back down the hall to your office.

“Excuse me,” a voice sounded from beside you and you recognized it as Dean, one of the senior members of the team in the office. He was a shameless flirt for sure, but his eye was not for you. He was harmless, which was a relief. He rushed past you, heading towards the front desk.

“Ah, Sammy! I thought you weren’t gonna be here until Monday!” Dean exclaimed.

Sammy?

The world slowed to a standstill as your eyes landed on the man standing at the front desk, his back to you.

No no no no no.

You could not mistake that hair, those shoulders…

He turned and you blanched at his profile. His smile was wide as he greeted Dean – of course the two of them were friends. Perfect. Tara emerged from her office and beamed seeing Sam standing there. Why was he here? Tara was greeting him too and you barely heard anything above the roar in your ears until you zoned in when she mentioned the word ‘transfer’.

Tara spotted you over the two men’s shoulders and you wanted to vomit when she pointed you out. “Ah, Y/N. You’re here. Early as usual, why should I be surprised? Oh, you should know each other.”

Sam turned his head in slow motion it seemed, his smile growing wider if possible. He was handsome, charming. But you could see past that smile and its pretense. He wanted to eat you alive.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam affirmed to Tara, holding out his arm, beckoning you over. “We worked in the same office.”

You realized you were standing there awkwardly, and you walked forward, the mask coming up. You forced yourself to smile. “Yes, we know each other.” He was so close, and his arm came to rest on your upper arm. It took everything in you not to flinch.

“Sam’s gonna be working here for a while to help with an upcoming project. Since you two have experience working together that should make this all smoother,” Tara explained.

“Hopefully,” you breathed, feeling in a fog.

Her eyes shot to the desk and she asked Robbie, “Did you give her the flowers?”

“H-he did,” you stammered, answering for Robbie, shooting a quick look at Sam.

You saw Sam’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at the mention of them.

“Secret admirer?” Tara teased and you shifted uncomfortably. If she only knew what she was doing right now.

Your cheeks reddened and you gave a nervous laugh. “No, nothing like that.”

Dean snorted and said, “Keep your secrets then, Y/N.” To the group of you, he addressed, “How about we go to lunch later today?”

“Oh, that would be good. I know a good place a few streets away,” Tara said chipper.

Sam shrugged, nodding in agreement. His hand was still on your shoulder – how was no one else noticing?

“Looking forward to it,” Sam told her, smiling broadly. His gaze flicked to you and he gave you a wink.

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas

[jessethorn]

Some Los Angeles Tips

People are always asking me what they should do when they visit LA. I am by no means the greatest LA expert on earth, but I’ve lived here more than a decade now, and I have some ideas for you. Note that I live in the far Northeast corner of LA, and really rarely travel to the western half of town. So if you are looking for advice on Beverly Hills stuff or Malibu stuff or whatever, I am not that helpful. Also this is very subjective and really non-comprehensive in general. Just some stuff I like!

In General

Rent a car if you drive, but don't be afraid to take the bus or subway. There are some very long distances to traverse, and not everything is convenient to transit, but the transit is reasonably comfortable and efficient for a lot of purposes (going downtown, for example), particularly when combined with some judicious ride-sharing. There's plenty of parking everywhere, despite what Angelenos would have you think. Don't try to do too many things in one day, or cross town on the 10, 101 or 405 at anything even resembling rush hour (ie between like seven and ten thirty or three and seven on weekdays). Stick to one area for the day, maybe two.

The Museum of Jurassic Technology This is the best thing in Los Angeles and one of the best things in the world. It is part museum, part art project. To explain it much further might ruin the experience of visiting it, but please take my word that it is one of the most amazing places in the world.

The Watts Towers As the name suggests, they're in Watts, a bit out of the way for some trips, but absolutely without a doubt worth the travel. They're an incredible artwork/building built in a backyard out of rebar, concrete, glass and tile by an illiterate Italian immigrant in the mid-20th century. Worth signing up for a tour, they are cheap (it's a city park) and not all that long. There's also a little gallery on the site. One of the great works of American outsider art and a deeply beloved city treasure.

Other, More Regular Museums LACMA is a world-class art museum. The collection is a bit scattered (and as of this writing a wing is closed for renovation and replacement), but it's really good. It's in Mid-City on the Miracle Mile, and surrounded by other museums. The Petersen Automotive Museum is pretty cool if you're into cars. La Brea Tar Pits are more park than museum, but the museum is fun in a kitschy way, if you're into prehistoric creatures. It's also a nice place to eat lunch. In Exposition Park are a few major museums - the Natural History Museum is pretty good, though not better than others in other major cities (the Field Museum or whatever). The science museum is OK but significantly outclassed by the competition (it's no Exploratorium), though it does have a real space shuttle, which is pretty sweet. The Annenberg Space for Photography does what it says on the label. A good mid-size museum of photographs, check what show is up. The Broad is a nice contemporary art museum in a beautiful building that's right near Walt Disney Concert Hall, also an incredible building. They have a second campus in Little Tokyo that's very nice but smaller.

Architectural Stuff The LA Conservancy runs affordable walking tours that take you into some of the most fascinating built environments in LA. The subject matter ranges from Art Deco in downtown to the modern skyscrapers of the 50s through 90s. They're mostly Saturdays, but a few also run on weekdays. Can't recommend them enough if you're up for a couple hours of walking. You can go inside the Bradbury Building and up into the upper floors! It's cool. (The Conservancy also runs screenings in the big movie palaces downtown, which are mostly otherwise closed to the public. Definitely recommend those.) A couple of other architectural highlights: the Hollyhock House is in Barnsdall Park in Los Feliz. It's a restored Frank Lloyd Wright estate willed to the city many years ago that as of relatively recently runs regular tours. Also in the park is the city art museum of LA, which sometimes has some cool shows. Cal Poly Pomona students run tours on Saturdays of the Neutra VDL studio and residences in Silver Lake, which can be combined with a nice walk around the lake and some middle-aged-hipster watching. The Gamble House in Pasadena is an absolutely breathtaking craftsman mansion with a lot of

Griffith Park Griffith Park is one of the largest urban parks in the United States. It has all kinds of stuff within it - the LA Zoo, the Griffith Observatory, some great hiking. It's a great place to spend some time. If you have little kids, they will love Travel Town, a train graveyard/museum that's inside the park (and free!). The zoo is good if you like zoos, though not incredibly great or anything. The Autry Museum of the American West is worth a visit if you're into that kind of thing.

The Grove I know that we talk about The Grove a lot on Jordan, Jesse, Go. Please do not waste your vacation time at the Grove. It's a mall. It's fine. This also applies to the Americana at Brand, which we sometimes talk about because we have talked about the Grove too much. Also a mall. A little nicer than some? I went there when I needed a new power cable for my Surface.

Dodger Stadium Look, I am a Giants fan and hate the Dodgers, but if you are a baseball fan, Dodger Stadium is a great place to watch a baseball game. Even I can admit that. Angel Stadium is about as generic as it gets, but if you go on a weekday you can take a train from Union Station in LA.

The Getty Center The Getty Center is a beautiful building on a breathtaking piece of real estate. It's pretty cool to visit, but be aware that most of the art is pretty early, so if you don't like busts or paintings of feasts and stuff from the bible, then it might not be your jam art-wise. And getting up there is a whole thing. That said: it really is a beautiful building and an incredible view, so you probably won't feel like it's a waste. And if you like busts, then get your ass over there.

Downtown Stuff I will again recommend the LA Conservancy's walking tours to get a flavor of downtown LA, which is very walkable and full of incredible stuff. The main library is a beautiful edifice, the history of which is detailed in Susan Orlean's The Library Book. Worth wandering around in. Grand Central Market is a great place to get a bite, though pretty bougie at this point. Right next to Grand Central Market is Angel's Flight, a block-long funicular that is a lot of fun and costs next to nothing. Besides this, there are still functional specialized commercial districts in downtown LA. The flower district is particularly fun - the big flower market opens early for wholesale sales but is open to the public and there are tons of stores selling silk and artificial flowers which are very fun to wander through. There are also areas with stores specializing in selling imported toys, store fixtures (a favorite of mine), jewelry and fabric. Most of the fabric is kinda garbage honestly but there is a good tailor supply store called B. Black and Sons and a great hat making store (worth visiting even if you don't make hats) called California Millinery Supply. FIDM also has a thrift store with cheap fabric leftover from LA-based factories.

Movies The Arclight is a fancy movie chain, and the Hollywood location (near Amoeba Records) is also the home of the Cinerama Dome, which is pretty fun. The Vista is a great single-screen theater on the east side. There are some great rep houses on the west side - check your local listings.

Comedy Stuff The UCB has a few great shows every night at both locations. It's hard to go wrong, though you should be aware you will be seeing things that are a little rougher than whatever makes it to your town as a road show. The signature improv show is Asssscat, which is absolutely as good as it gets. Dynasty Typewriter (right by our office) has a lot of great shows these days. A great standup show is Hot Tub at the Virgil. The big comedy clubs have pretty comedy-club-y comedy in them, not necessarily what I'd recommend, though you will certainly see a lot of relatively big names doing sets. The Improv Lab sometimes has MaxFun-adjacent headliners who've put together their own lineups, as does Flappers in Burbank. Largo has bigger-name shows of this variety as well, and if you go see a show there headlined by a Sarah Silverman or Patton Oswalt, the lineup will likely be packed with their pals, even if they aren't advertised.

Some Places To Eat This is NOT a comprehensive list. First: Jonathan Gold died a few years ago, but he is still the king of LA food. Anything he recommended in the Weekly or Times is still the gold standard (no pun intended). He was also a wonderful writer and a champion of foodways that are unfamiliar to many in LA, much less outside LA. If you are a food nerd, KCRW's Good Food is a superb local food show (and podcast) produced by Nick Liao, who used to work at MaxFun.

Philipe's The French Dip A restaurant that's been around for literally a century, with sawdust on the floor, big jars of pickled eggs, ladies in hairnets and really tasty French Dips. They have competing claims to having invented them but the other competitor turned into one of those goofy sleeve-garter-barman subway tile exposed lightbulb places about ten years ago. Philipe's is totally for real and great.

Pie N Burger This is just a burger place in Pasadena that sells classic SoCal-style burgers and is really great. Cash only, though.

Langer's The only one of the Jewish delis in LA that's really worth a special trip. The #19 (pastrami, cole slaw and swiss on rye) is truly one of the world's greatest foods. Pastrami here is better than anywhere else I've ever eaten, including those famous delis in New York.

Park's BBQ 

One of many great Korean BBQ restaurants in LA, but the only one recommended to me personally by Jonathan Gold. (I also like Soot Bull Jeep, which barbeques over charcoal and will leave you smelling like smoke, and Hae Jang Chong for all-you-can-eat.) (There are LOTS of different kinds of Korean food, but I am not an expert on the soups and blood sausages and bibimbaps and etc., but if you're adventurous, you could eat a different Korean food at a different spot every month in LA and make out well.)

Guelagetza Oaxacan food is one of the best kinds of food in the world, and Guelagetza is an LA institution that serves good-quality Oaxacan food. Moles, tlayudas, queso fundido. If you've never eaten any of this stuff, a couple of chicken moles are a great place to start (as is Guelagetza).

Dim Sum You can drive all the way to the San Gabriel Valley and eat at one of the many wonderful dim sum places there. That's where the best stuff is. If it's not worth a special trip to you, I like a place called Lunasia in Pasadena, and they also serve dim sum for dinner. Not a HUGE menu but good food.

Mozza This pizzeria, now a sort of group of restaurants, is an unimpeachably excellent Fancy Meal in LA. So (per my producer Kevin) are the other restaurants run by the same chef, Nancy Silverton.

The Dal Rae This is an old-timey fancy restaurant in Pico Rivera, a semi-industrial part of LA. It's just a great place to wear a suit to and eat Clams Casino. Famous for their table-made Caesar salad (legit great) and pepper steak (too peppery for me). Generally the food is excellent in a 1955 sort of way.

Bludsoe's Best Texas-style barbeque I've had outside of Texas. Used to be a window down by the airport, now a fancier place on La Brea, but I'm told the food is just as good at the fancy place.

Pupusas I love to eat pupusas. Maybe my favorite food. I really like to eat pupusas at Los Molcajetes on Hoover in Westlake (near Koreatown). Note they are weirdly big here (a regional variation of some kind) and they only take cash. (Note also this is one of 10,000 restaurants in LA named Los Molcajetes.)  I also sometimes eat at a nice sit-down Salvadoran place called Las Cazuelas on Figueroa in Highland Park.

In N Out In N Out is good! It will not change your life! But it is very tasty, especially for a $4 food! Some people complain about the fries, which are fresh-cut and fried only once and thus are less crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside than some others! I think they are fine! Try In N Out, why not! But maybe don't make a whole special trip to do so!

Tacos and Other SoCal Mexican Food Stuff Everyone has their own favorite taco places, and none of my favorites are so special they should be destinations. They are mostly my favorites because they are close to my home and work. But I can tell you that I like to get sit-down Mexican-American food at La Abeja on Figueroa in LA, where I eat a lot of carne adovada and enchiladas and sometimes albondigas or breakfast. I also really like to eat carne en su jugo at Carnes Asadas Pancho Lopez on Pasadena in Lincoln Heights. I eat tacos from Tacos La Estrella on York in Highland Park or the truck (with no name) across from the Mexican consulate on Park View at sixth in Westlake. At night I sometimes get cheap tacos (I like buche) from the place that opens up on Pasadena at Avenue 37. I like the shrimp and fish tacos at Via-Mar on Figueroa. I like Huaraches from Huaraches Azteca on York. The burritos at Yuca’s in Los Feliz (or Pasadena) are great, though they are totally different from the SF-style burritos that I grew up eating. I sometimes get nachos at Carnitas Michoacan on Broadway in Lincoln Heights, which feature meat and cheese sauce and are gross but also really, really good.  I have also eaten at the very fancy Mexican restaurant Border Grill and to be honest it is really good even though the interior feels a little like a cross between a fancy restaurant in 1989 and a Chili's.

El Coyote This is a famous Mexican-American restaurant from the early part of the 20th century, but you shouldn't go there because the food sucks.

Stores I Like This is going to be REAL subjective, but a few stores I like which sell the kinda stuff you'd expect me to want. &etc - A great (small) antique store at 1913 Fremont in Pasadena. The Last Bookstore - A downtown bookstore that is the closest thing to a "destination" book store in LA. Good selection and reasonable prices on used books, and a nice art book room. (Records as well, but they're not very good.) Gimme Gimme Records - I like this record store in Highland Park. You'll pay retail here, but reasonable retail, and the selection (while not immense) is really excellent. Good stuff in all genres.

Secret Headquarters - One time at this small comics store in Silver Lake the lady at the counter asked if I was Jesse from Jordan Jesse Go and they won my business forever in that moment. Don Ville - My friend Raul makes and sells shoes (and repairs them!) in the northern part of Koreatown. If you have the dough, get him to make you some shoes! The Bloke - A really great little menswear store in Pasadena. Sells cool (expensive) trad-ish brands like Drake's and Hilditch & Key and Alden. The Good Liver - A beautiful shop in Little Tokyo specializing in perfect home goods. The perfect scissors, the perfect dish towel and so forth. Some things are expensive, some aren't. H Lorenzo Archive - The "outlet" shop of a designer clothing store on the west side. Discounts aren't huge, but the selection is really interesting, and they have a good collection of one of my favorite brands, Kapital. Sid Mashburn - Excellent classic clothing shop on the west side. Suit Supply & Uniqlo - if you haven't got these where you live, they're the places I usually send people for reasonably-priced tailored clothes (Suit Supply) and cheap basics (Uniqlo). Olvera Street - This is an old-timey tourist attraction, a street of folks selling Mexican handcrafts (and their Chinese-made analogs). Right near Union Station and Philipe's, and a great place to buy factory-made huaraches (the shoes, not the food). They even have sizes big enough for me, which is pretty much impossible to find in Mexico or most Mexican-American shoe stores. Thrift Stores - I go to a lot of thrift stores but if I told you which ones you might buy something I would have bought so I'm not going to tell you which thrift stores.

Flea Markets You may know I am at the flea market every weekend. The good fleas are on Sundays, and there's one every week. First Sunday of the month is Pasadena City College, a big (and free) market with pretty reasonable pricing. PCC has a pretty big record section in addition to the regular flea market stuff. Second weekend is the famous Rose Bowl flea, which is HUGE and has a big new goods section (blech) and vintage clothing area (good!). Third weekend is Long Beach Airport, which is a great overall show. Fourth is Santa Monica airport, which is smaller and a little fancier but very nice. The Valley flea is also fourth Sundays, at Pierce College, and that's not huge but sometimes surprises me. With all of these, the earlier you can arrive, the better you'll do (not least for weather reasons). I usually try to get there around 7:30 or 8:00. The Rose Bowl in particularl is a 4-6 hour operation if you do most of it. There are also a lot of swap meets - I don't know enought to recommend any in particular, but these are much more about tube socks and batteries and bootleg movies than antiques and collectibles. Still can be fun, though, and are certainly a proud SoCal tradition. (The Silverlake Flea and the Melrose Trading Post are garbage, don't go there.)

Going to the Beach I'm not a huge beach goer, but by all means go to the beach if that's your thing. The Annenberg Community Beach House in Santa Monica is a great place to base your operation, though you have to arrive in the morning on busy days to get a parking spot.

Kid Stuff I mentioned Travel Town, that's pretty great. Kidspace in Pasadena is a very good children's museum. The Bob Baker Marionette Theater is a great place to see a marionette show straight out of 1966. There's a good aquarium in Long Beach though it's a bit nutty there on weekends, and the zoo in Griffith Park is a good zoo. I really like Descanso Gardens, a big botanical garden northeast of LA. Huntington Gardens is also very nice, though it's much more expensive and hotter.

Geography Los Angeles is BIG. I'd say try to spend each of your days within about a sixth of it, geographically. It's entirely possible to do west side and east side stuff on the same trip, but don't try to do them on the same day. Look at a map and look at driving times when you're planning. Neighborhoods in LA are BIG, geographically speaking, don't assume two things in the same neighborhood are an easy walk. There aren't a ton of urban neighborhoods suitable for wandering in the way there are in some places. A few manageable general areas for stuff you might like: Silverlake/Los Feliz/Echo Park, Koreatown, Highland Park, downtown, Little Tokyo and the Arts District. (I live in the northeast part of town, and don't spend much time on the west side, which is one reason why this list focuses more on east side stuff. Some folks like West Hollywood and Venice on the west side. Long Beach and Pasadena are both neat towns with their own thing going on that might be worth a visit, too.)

Books & Media The Great Los Angeles Book is probably City of Quartz, a socialist-leaning history of LA. I really loved Susan Orlean's The Library Book, which is about the library as an institution, but also specifically the LA central library and the mysterious fire that nearly destroyed it. And a wild guy named Charles Lummis who was one of the founding fathers of LA culture and was really something else. (You can visit his house - it's right off the 110 near Highland Park.) An LA movie I love is The Long Goodbye, which is sort of a predecessor/inspiration for The Big Lebowski. A shaggy mystery directed by Altman where Elliott Gould just sort of wanders around LA. Another really cool one is Los Angeles Plays Itself, a long (long!) film essay about the ways the real Los Angeles has been used to create fictional worlds in film over the decades.

TV Tapings I'm not an expert in TV tapings. I can say that I've been to a few Conan tapings, and while it takes a LOOOOONG time to get in there, the show is fun to watch live. This is generally true of talk shows and most game shows, which tape more or less as-live. Sitcoms take WAY longer than you were expecting them to. Make sure to try to book tickets early if you have something you want to see. No matter what it's a most-of-the-day thing.

Nightlife Is a word that describes evening activities - especially dance clubs. I am old and don't know about these things.

The Magic Castle I can't get you in, please don't ask me to. I went a couple times. It's fine. If you're not into magic you're not missing too much. If you are, then obviously, it's a priority.

The Walk of Fame and Hollywood Not recommended, not worth it, don't bother.

Disneyland Why would you want my opinion about Disneyland? It's Disneyland. You're in or you're out.

San Diego If you happen to plan a side trip to San Diego, you can take the Amtrak there, and it is a breathtakingly beautiful and exceedingly pleasant trip. I have no San Diego expertise to impart beyond that, however.

[askmyboys]

Osmund

Finally posting here again lmao even tho this blog is probs just gonna stay dead at this rate

anyways here’s giant pig god dude

| Name: Osmundus (Osmund from what I looked up, the name means Divine Protector p much)

| Nicknames: Oz/Ozzy or you can just call him Osmund in general

| Gender: He/They (usually that’s what the humans/books said pronouns wise and he seems to like em enough sooo)

| Age: Unknown but he’s p ancient

| Species/Race: Giant Pig God (he’s a Wild Boar to be MORE specific on his species)

| Height: 100ft (he can actually size shift though)

| Hair Color: Dark Grey (his hair is long so he keeps it in a braid)

| Eye Color: His left eye is Charcoal Black and his right eye has three claw slashes over it and the eye itself is white and cloudy (he can’t see in that one obvs)

| Appearance: Let’s start off with his actual appearance before outfits, he’s p much anthropomorphic, he looks like a mixture between a human and wild board obvs- anyways- his ears are pointed (not like my usual characters, his ears are pointed but they are kinda pointed out to the sides instead of upwards if that makes ANY sense?) His feet are hooves of course and his hands are also hooves but he seems to actually be able to grab things (he has a hoof thumb, i'm bad- with describing this shit lmao but i'm trying my best and I mean listen he’s GOTTA be able to grab things) he also has a curly tail as well, his bottom canines are fairly large tusks that stick up from his mouth, the rest of his teeth are fairly sharp as well.

He does have a human esque body and face actually, he also has a dark grey circle beard as well, the only actual pig parts he has are his legs/hooves, tusks/teeth, his tail, and then finally his ears (his skin color is dark grey and he does have bristles on his arms and legs mostly btw) now onto what he wears! First thing’s first, he wears a LOT of golden hoop earrings on both ears (none of those BIG hoops, its all small ones), he also has a golden nose piercing he wears, they also wear a LOT of golden bracelets going up from their wrists to halfway up their arms, he also wears a golden wedding ring as a necklace (I mean… he can’t necessarily wear it on his finger given its a hoof, but he found a work around and he’s NEVER taken that necklace off other than to sleep and even then it’s locked in a golden chest (yes, they are married, i’ll talk about their husband in side facts)

His main outfit is a black cape with golden spots on the outside (its a golden color on the inside as well) with a brownish-white fur hood that has black spots on it, it also has fur going down the front ends of the cape (you know the kinda fur like on a typical king’s outfit, yeah that) underneath the cape is just a dark grey chestplate, the chestplace looks very worn and it’s got a good bit of damage but it still looks safe tbh (he never takes his armor off chest wise)

Finally, he wears, of course, a golden crown with black obsidian stones/crystals acting like the gemstones you’d find in any type of other crown, he chooses black obsidian for its protection against the negative and harmful energies.

| Personality: Osmund is… An ancient God, they have been around for who knows how long really, it's been longer than anyone could ever remember, he’s essentially a very old man, he’s got a LOT of wisdom and he’s highly intelligent but of course, that doesn’t mean he always was… Osmund will even admit he was careless and so reckless when he was a youngling, he’s very embarrassed with how he used to act, such a careless being… They knew no better for the trouble they got themselves into, but he knows there is no changing the past, and mistakes are always here for a reason… And besides he wouldn’t have learned half of what he did had it not been for his reckless nature.

Osmund can almost be like a fucking DICTIONARY sometimes, they have knowledge on MANY topics, their favorite topics to talk about seem to be nature, various crystals, herbs, etc- Osmund has SO many books, like SO many, it’s centuries worth of collections really- He always loves a good book even if he’s read them all before and besides there’s always someone out there to teach so its good to keep them around.

Osmund, as his name suggests is a Divine Protector, even people who didn’t believe in him, he’d protect EVERYONE he could, they were a warrior, a VERY strong warrior and I won’t say they aren’t now, if they needed to, they would ABSOLUTELY go to fight… Osmund won’t ever get into fights however himself, in fact despite being such a strong warrior, he doesn’t actually like fighting at all, if there’s a way, they’d always try to solve things peacefully instead but if there really wasn’t any other option then… So be it… Once he’s pushed to this point however, there is no going back, they won’t back down and they won’t stop.

When it comes to mortals, Osmund doesn’t let himself be seen too often, but sometimes when a mortal stumbles across him, well, they aren’t going to be rude if they want to have a conversation, sure he might can size shift but there isn’t any hiding other features and they don’t even really care about hiding those features (Osmund only size shifts when he goes down to the mortals world but that’s only because well, even if most know of them based on stories and legends, etc- it IS still terrifying to see a giant, let alone a giant god so he tries to be mindful) there has been the occasion where a mortal stumbles into his world, there IS a strict policy being that no mortal should enter the gods/goddesses worlds BUT… Osmund holds no grudges, it usually stems from a curiosity, but they do send them back on their way by the end of the day, it's too big of a risk for them to STAY here.

Because he’s an old man essentially, Osmund CAN be grumbly n a bit grumpy sometimes but he genuinely means no harm, just sometimes that cranky side happens, usually when he’s woken up from a nap or sleep or interrupted by someone wanting to challenge him, 

you wouldn’t believe how many times they’ve been challenged by various other beings and even some mortals! It’s part of the reason they never take their armor off… Osmund as you can imagine has created TONS and TONS of enemies over the centuries, and one time he got a bit too careless because it was nothing but peaceful for a long few years… And that one time… Almost cost him his life, ever since then they’ve AT LEAST kept the chestplate on (speaking of, i forgot, he has a TON of scars all over his body, the one they have that almost cost them their life is right above the heart)

(tl;dr: An old soul literally, has centuries of knowledge and still has books lying around even though he genuinely doesn’t even need to read them at this point, they’ve read all those p much but still, loves to teach younglings/even mortals if he gets the chance, was once a warrior and he still can be but it’s only if pushed to those circumstances, a peaceful guy and honestly prefers peace over war and violence, can be grumbly/grumpy when challenged or disturbed, loves nature/crystals/herbs/etc a LOT, overall pretty friendly, sweet, kind, and caring, he IS a protector after all… Never going to take that armor off even if its hard to sleep in, too big of a risk… The shit they’ve seen over the centuries… The wars, the fighting, the violence, literally ALL of it would scar a person beyond belief and well there’s probably some trauma in there more than likely but he’s pretty stoic looking, always has had that stoic expression really

And honestly even if there’s something going on in there he’s NEVER been the type to talk/open up about his feelings/thoughts/emotions really, he usually bottles things up if anything, they’ve barely even told anything to their husband)

| Side Facts: ALRIGHT I know what you’ve been waiting for- You want me to talk about his husband, alrighty here we go- Imma be making a separate doc for him, but I’ll at LEAST introduce him and what he is-  his husband is a giant goat god, his name is Arvish and well… He was an… Interesting fellow I’ll say that at the very least, alright, moving on.

Osmund’s favorite types of tea are Mint Tea, Herbal Tea, and Oolong Tea.

Like I said before, Osmund has his own type of world essentially, his world is made up of wintery elements, he has a large wood cabin far out in the snowy forest that he resides in, he loves the cabin not only because it’s VERY well hidden but because of, despite being in a cold climate he DOES think it’s very cozy, he loves sitting by the fire and reading one of the books while drinking tea.

Despite being a peaceful god, they do have VARIOUS weapons, his main one and most prized possession being a longsword, the blade is black and the handle is golden.

There are more than just pig-esque people in his world as well, there’s VARYING gods/goddesses that roam the place, he IS the ruler of the world after all, it’s LITERALLY his world! And it’s such a peaceful one so it’s a nice place to live or go visit actually, the gods/goddesses can always relax here.