#fun. i meant fun. what is fum

[autistickaihiwatari]

hihi if u know my main then u know ^_^ if you don't then i probably have you blocked. anyway this is in a sense kind of a follow-up to one of my posts there so i guess this is kind of like. an extended version of that. director's cut or smth. anywayyyy

MAYBLADE 2023 DAY 4: SCI-FI

AKA: WHY THE FUCK IS V-FORCE LIKE THAT

bakuten shoot beyblade 2002, or beyblade v-force as i will be referring to it for the rest of this post, despite being mostly filler (in the sense that most of what happens in it isn't in the manga at all), is not a season that fucks around, except it also does that a lot. but what i'm getting at here is that even if you don't realize it, it becomes VERY clear what kind of season this is very quickly.

season 1 of bakuten shoot beyblade is a little bit absurd sometimes. that kind of comes with the territory (unless you're most of burst), but that does not make the existence of a US government-funded beyblade research facility aswell as beyblade child soldiers (unrelated to the first thing, making that two instances of beyblade war crimes) and beyblade rasputin any less ridiculous. v-force, however, takes this further.

in season 1 of bakuten shoot beyblade, the us government-funded beyblade research facility is introduced in episode 19 and isn't really important in the long term. the beyblade child soldiers are introduced in episode 40 and are very important to the plot, and beyblade rasputin is casually dropped in episode 42 and never mentioned again.

beyblade v-force drops a beyblading robot (not to be confused with the character who is a beyblader and also a robot, who we will get to later) on you in episode 4. this is the kind of season you will be watching for the next 47 episodes! have fun!

i don't know what exactly to say about this moment. when it comes down to it i think it just speaks for itself really. and for most of beyblade v-force, this vibe is still very present. even when it's not ridiculous in this way, psykick and their no-name goons have a sort of saturday morning cartoon vibe, or atleast that's the best way i can describe it. this feeling is also present with zagart for a good chunk of the latter half, atleast until episode 41 comes around and things finally start to kick into gear on that end.

however, there is a very particular point where the weird sci-fi bullshit is able to work in harmony with actual good drama, and if you know my main you undoubtedly know where i'm going with this.

but first! consider the following concept: artificial divinity. man-made recreations of gods, created to be not just equal to but more powerful than their original counterparts. and these beings, both by nature and their sheer power, take over the minds of those who wield them, with the user dying in the worst case scenario.

what i have just described is the digital sacred beasts. the execution isn't perfect- mostly because psykick is fucking lame, but other than that it's... actually really fucking good. this, in no small part, is due to episode 16. remember that kid from like 11 episodes ago? the one who was pretty fuckin gay for kai? well. um.

this is genuinely such an excellent introduction to the plotline, and i know it's technically not the introduction but also it may aswell be because for a good while i genuinely FORGOT about the actual introduction. i could actually go on about this plotline for a good while but also this is a really really long post already so. onto the last thing!

yeah the kid's been a robot the whole time! fuck you! i don't even know what to say anymore i've been writing this post for atleast an hour now. v-force is so fucking stupid but that just adds to the experience i think. everyone say thank you to v-force right now.

[nanamisflowerfield]

︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵

It was a big day, well at least for Idia. After all it was his crush’s birthday! Scared and excited, he tried to prepare a gift for his beloved crush in secret.

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@teashopwritingzz I know I don’t have to do it, but I really really really wanted to give at least one small present to you! Because you totally deserve it!🥺❤️ Happy belated Birthday! I know that yesterday was your birthday, but I wasn‘t online yesterday due the post+ demonstration! D: I still hope that you had a wonderful day yesterday and today and the whole week! Stay safe and healthy too!!

Idia took a deep breath, staring at the list of gift ideas that you might like, but a small voice back in his head kept telling him, that you would never like any of those gifts. “I’m sure that (Y/N) (L/N) will like it!” His younger brother always said, but the tall dorm leader of Ignihyde was still pouting at his thoughts. If you would reject any of those, you would also reject his feelings. It would be like a critical hit, getting it from the most greatest SSR character ever. “If you are still unsure, you can watch them. Maybe you will figure out what (Y/N) (L/N) will like.” Ortho advised his big bro, who glanced over his shoulder to the only person he might listen to at this very important situation. “Maybe you are right…” Idia’s gaze wandered from his brother to the list he had on his phone. Headphones, phonecases, games, books and more were listed on it, but would you liked them?

“Owww! My paw!” Grim cursed the ground, after he fell down from the bed, being accidentally pushed down by you. “Sorry, Grim.” Apologizing by petting him on the head and promising to give him a can of tuna later, he halfheartly accepted your apology, walking with you to school for another mayhap exciting school day. “I will only accept it, because it’s your birthday.” The cat-like friend of yours, fummed, watching the Heartslabyul duo walk into your direction to greet you and wish you a happy birthday. “Trey-senpai even baked a cake.” Deuce told you, getting elbowed by Ace, who groaned at him that the birthday party should be a surprise, only to spoil it himself. “A surprise party…? I’m probably not invited…” Idia watched the screen, his eyes never leaving you, hopeful to get any informations of what you might wish for, while his fingers tipped on his keyboard, coding something he always had on mind.

As you wrote on paper everything important professor Crewel told the class, Ace drummed with his finger on the table, while Grim was half sleeping next to you and Deuce tried his best to be a perfect student. “Hey, can you read the list of invited students later on? Did we invite every friend of yours?” Deuce whispered to you, getting harsh words of the professor for interrupting the lesson. But every time Crewel watched away, you read all names of your friends on it, only noticing that one name was missing. The person you wanted to see not only through screen. Idia Shroud. But maybe he couldn’t come over or doesn’t want to for being such a shy and yet adorable being.

Surprisingly the day went on like every other day. You laughed, had fun, talked to your friends and went to the Heartslabyul garden, while wearing shiny bright white clothes to show the whole school that it was indeed your birthday, like many other students had to wear on theirs. It was a bit embarrassing to talk with plenty of students about your birthday, but it still made you happy nonetheless, even when you still hoped to talk on specific student of NRC on this very day. But he didn’t came, so maybe you should get your little present from him by visiting Idia. “That’s a great party, guys. Thank you all so much, but I will be gone for a short time.” You smiled at your friends, watching them having fun, eating delicious food and talking to each other.

Idia yelped as he heard a knock on the door. Wasn’t everyone gone and having fun right now? Who was knocking on the door? Arguing with Ortho with mere stares, the younger Shroud walked to the door, opening it to your delight and Idia’s dismay, as he stared at the door opening more and more and then- oh no, by the great seven, was it truly you?! You were supposed to be at your party, having the time of your life with your dear friends and not be here! Why were you here?!

Like a good child, Ortho greeted you, standing next to the door to give you some space to walk through the door to Idia’s room. While you were smiling at the Shroud brothers, Idia was sitting on his chair, turning around to hide his blushing face that got warmer by every second you stood there and talked to Ortho. The tips of his hair and ears were dusted cheek and he was sure, that some might compare to him to fresh cherries!

“Sorry to disturb you-“ You started, getting interrupted by Ortho, who dragged you into the room, telling you that you would never disturb any of those two. “Oh… Uhm… Alright.” With the same smile that Idia fell for, your eyes stared at his back. Oh, how much you had wishes to hold the introverted boy in your embrace, pat him and give him the love and affection he deserved. “I-I-It’s… alright…” Idia sputtered and stuttered, trying to avoid your gaze in fear that you might tease him for having a crush on you. He just couldn’t help himself. You were such a lovely person. So nice, helpful and that smile. He could babble around, what a great person you were in his boring shut-in life. That you were like the light in his dark life. A total ultra super duper rare card in the gacha games he keeps playing, being frustrated that he couldn’t get those cards, but at least could look at them on photos. “Am I creepy…?” Idia mumbled to himself, forgetting your presence for a second until you asked him to repeat it, after not able to hear it. “N-Nothing!”

Fortunately or mayhap even unfortunately, Ortho knew of Idia’s feelings and how much he had took a liking towards you, which is why he had asked you, why you were in the Ignihyde dorm. “Oh… I wanted to get my present.” The blue-haired tall student turned around, nearly shrieking in fear that you figured out, that he wanted to give you a gift as well like plenty of your friends, who unfortunately had gifted you many presents he had listed a couple weeks ago. “My present would be… to spend more time with you, Idia.” Your gaze wandered to the ground as your cheeks got warmer by your mere words and wish you had, not realizing that Idia’s face was mirroring yours at the same time your words had left your mouth.

That was a gift that he would love to give you every day as long as you wanted to have him by his side. His mouth opened slightly, wanting to talk, before you had asked him what he was programming right now as you took a look at the codes, ignoring the fact that a humming Ortho left the room, so he might not disturb you two love birds. “A g-game… I’m trying to make a small game I had in mind for quite some time.” He answered, staring at it once again.

“Have you finished it already?“ The bluehead nodded. “May I play it?” Mumbling a few words here and there, Idia hoped that his hair hide his flustered face, but he nonetheless let you sit next to him and play his selfmade game, even though he feared that you would reach the end of it and find out about his big secret he never wanted to reveal to you.

“Another level up. Great!~” You cheered, playing the rpg of Idia’s even though your friends might miss you during your birthday party. You should get back, but you couldn’t stop playing the game, after all you has nearly reach the endboss! “Is that a giant cat? He reminds me of Grim.” You chuckled, trying to defeat the endboss with the spells of the protagonist named Hadia. It was a cute game.

The plot of it was like plenty of other rpgs. The protagonist Hadia, a royal guy fell in love with Readi, a sweet princess who got kidnapped by the evil cat-monster Grimopy. Grimopy tried to be the strongest wizard and king and had plenty of henchmen like Dice and Acepo, which were quite strong enemies. Hadia had to train a lot and even gained the help of different wizards like Lio, a sleepy lion, Otto, a cute robot. Then there were Ralice, Tri, Phone-Addicted Rabbit, who still had no name, because Idia couldn’t find a good fitting name for the character. Marteus, Kala, Azure and many other characters and all of them reminded you of your friends. That meant that Hadis was probably Idia and the lovely princess Readi was… you. “Cute game.” You whispered to yourself, using the last spell to defeat the boss, watching the end scene of the rpg.

Hadis was rushing through the castle until he found his beloved princess. When he leaned down to kiss her awake with the kiss of true love, she woke up and they confessed their loves, swearing to each other to be together forever until they lives will end.

“I think I have a new ship.” You giggled, pointing at the protagonists, while you looked at Idia, the blushing mess. “I’m really glad that they are together. They are perfect and cute together. So sweet. I hope that my Hadis likes me as much as he does…” You commented, shutting his computer down, while Idia clenched his fists, knowing that you finally know about his feelings. “Come. We have to go to a party, Idia.” You smiled at the marveled dorm leader. “P-Party?!” Faster than he could expect it, you grabbed his hand in yours, pulling him away from his room towards the garden of the Heartslabyul dorm. “Oh, I like you too, my Hadis.” - “I-I like you too… my Readi.” With the other hand of his, he tried to hide his red face as you chuckled at him, happy that you finally can call him yours.

[danganronpa-21]

“Burfday” Girl - Kyoko Kirigiri Birthday Drabble

Happy Birthday Kyoko! Here’s the yearly little birthday post I make for her. I’m sorry that I couldn’t manage a full birthday one-shot this year like I have in the past, but I hope you will get a kick out of my drabble anyway.  In the end, it’s all about supporting Danganronpa’s best girl. 

___________ October 6th, 2020… The date Kyoko had been looking forward to just about all year. 

It was almost funny. Growing up, she never put all that much time and energy into thinking about her birthday. When she was little and living with her mother and father, they did what they could to make things fun. Funds had been kind of tight — they didn’t have her grandfathers’ blessings on either side — but they tried where they could. Regardless of how hard it could be, they always made sure she had a cake and some presents to show just how much they loved her. She recalled missing those days so dearly as she grew; her grandfather never did much for her birthday once she moved in with him. There was a gift here or there (usually for detective work), and maybe a special treat, but never the copious amounts of attention she received when she was young. And gradually, she had grown to expect that as the norm for her special day. Until, of course, her world turned itself on its head once again.

Her husband loved her birthday. Any opportunity he could take to spoil her on that day, he snatched up with the utmost enthusiasm. The previous year he’d convinced her to take the day off work and spend the day running around with him. It had been a lovely day full of cake tasting and book reading and movie watching and an amazing surprise party with all of their friends. She’d taken as many photos as she could to try and maintain the memories; next year she knew she’d have even more. And now that it had come, well… Kyoko couldn’t wait for what was in store.

In all truth, she did know that it probably couldn’t manage to be as impossibly perfect as last year. Unlike her last birthday, neither she nor Makoto could get the day off work. A Monday was pretty doable to get a stand-in for the headmaster and vice principal, but a Tuesday? Much less practical. So this year, Kyoko’s birthday started the way her old ones used to: with an unfathomably irritating alarm beeping in her ear.

“Makono…turm it off…” Refusing to lift her face from the pillow, she flailed her arm at Makoto. He would probably be smart enough to get the message, and she wouldn’t have to put in the effort herself. Which was about what she wanted most at a time like this, on a day like this. She had no idea what it was about six o’clock in the morning, but merely knowing it was that time sapped her of all energy. 

Makoto only grunted in return, rolling over like that would somehow stop the alarm’s incessant beeping. “It’s your turn…” Did he intend to roll over and go back to sleep? He better not! It would be a deep betrayal if he did. What kind of husband would leave his light-sleeping wife to deal with their alarm? On her birthday, of all days! For shame, Makoto Naegi-Kirigiri.

“I’m pregmant and it’s my burfday…” She murmured once again, still not fully grasping language as she normally would. She buried her face into pillow further, trying to punctuate her point. “Theresnore, your turm.” 

He groaned again, but relented. “Fine,” He complained, wiggling into an upright position, “My turm.” 

“Durn’t make fum of me…”

His finger eventually found the snooze button, silencing that horrible wailing dead in its tracks. “Then get your face out of the pillow, goofball. I can barely understand what you’re trying to say.” He laughed. Was there a day in his life that he managed to not be impossibly charming? “Just because you’re the birthday girl doesn’t mean you get to cause extra trouble.”

In spite of her exhaustion, Kyoko couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. “Ish that not whaf being the burfday girl meansh?” At this point, she hoped he could tell she was stuffing her face into the pillow on purpose. Perhaps if she played her cards right, she could get him to bring her breakfast in bed. He’d been doing that a lot more lately. Apart of the pregnancy treatment, she guessed. “Mnnnn… Ish comfy here.”

Makoto’s laughter only continued as he nudged her shoulder. Though she could only see him out of the corner of her eye, her heart beat a little faster at the sight of his sleepy smile. God, she loved waking up to the sight of him. “Come on. You’ve got prenatal vitamins to take and breakfast to have. We have work in an hour.” 

Kyoko lifted her face from the pillow, mustering up the cheekiest smile she could manage. “You have work in an hour. I’m calling in sick.”

“That trick doesn’t work when your boss is your husband.”

“I’m sure I could muster up some morning sickness if you like.” She snickered, shaking her head slightly. As much as it was a joke, it was also sort of a threat. For whatever reason, her pregnancy had resulted in her being incredibly nauseous most mornings. She’d spent many a morning at home on days when she was meant to work throwing up. It was a massive relief to be able to wake up on the morning of her birthday feeling perfectly fine. Perhaps just one of the perks. 

“Kyoko, come on.” He was still laughing, unwilling to let up against her. “We’ve really gotta get up. Will you get up if I make you a nice birthday breakfast?”

Kyoko batted her eyelashes innocently at him. She definitely wasn’t used to trying to look sweet, but she figured she could do a good enough job to convince Makoto. Even without the acting, he struggled to say no to her. “I might consider it.”

He sighed. “If I add some coffee, and the promise of many, many birthday kisses?”

She couldn’t help but snicker, and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Now you have my attention.”

He chuckled once again. “Yeah, yeah. Spoiled little burfday girl.”

[madeofuterspace]

Slagging, Snogging, and All the Other S Words

During a tense but public argument Y/N’s misunderstanding of British slang causes problems for George Wealsey. 

(Non-British Reader)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: teens drinking alchol, mentions of sex

When your father met your mother, he was intrigued...bewitched almost. He found her English accent adorable and they dated for nearly 5 years until you came along. Things were magical, your mother fit into the role of wife and caregiver instantly. It was almost like with the wave of a fairy wand, the household chores would be finished in an instant. Your mother’s secret about being a witch was concealed until your magical abilities began to emerge.

Your father wasn’t a naive man, but a practical one. When wooden blocks began to float and your stuffed animals began to sound a little too much like their real life counterparts, he just assumed he was wrapped up in the magical whimsy that was childhood. It wasn’t until his wife sat him down and revealed both her and your heritage, that things began to add up. He was heartbroken that she had hidden her abilities for so long, but loved the both of you the same.

When your 10th birthday was around the corner, your mother expressed a want for you to go to Hogwarts in the UK. She had loved her school days and wanted you to experience a similar journey. Your father requested a transfer to the London office and there the three of you went. Now, in your fifth year with the looming threat of Voldemort and Deatheaters, your family never regretted their decision. Your mother had joined the Order and took you along to the meetings, wanting to be the best role model she could for her child. You had excitedly agreed to go to the meetings, assuming you’d be in the room where it happens. Instead, you often sat in a random bedroom with 4 Weasley siblings, the brightest witch in your year, and the boy who lived.

“Y/N! Can you do us a favor?” Fred Weasley plopped on the floor next to you, shifting his whole body to give you what looked like, his full undivided attention. You frowned, knowing that Weasley favors rarely ended well.

Before you could answer, George cut in. “No Fred, not Y/N. They wouldn’t like it much. Let’s try it on Ron instead.” You frowned, silently weighing your options. While you weren’t happy about George making decisions for you, you’ve also seen what happens when a person eats a Weasley treat. You plucked the treat from Fred’s hand, it was a pastel blue taffy.

“It’s a pretty color, what’s it supposed to do?” You held it closer to your eyes, scanning for any warning signs. George’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. “It’s not meant for you”, he said airily while his other hand reached out for the treat.

“Oh? Then whose it meant for?” You asked curiously, quickly transferring the taffy to your freed hand. George looked nervous glancing between you and your closed fist. “Harry!”, he blurted out, “It was meant for Harry. That’s why it’s blue.”

Harry looked up from his conversation with Herminone and Ron, “That’s why what’s blue?”

George looked...flustered almost. “The piece of candy Y/N is man-handling. We made it blue”, George looked at his brother for help and Fred raised his eyebrows. “We made it blue,” George continued, “to match your eyes.”

The room was silent. George clenching his jaw, kept his eyes trained on Harry. No one really knew what to say.

“Ok...here you go Harry.” You tossed the candy to Harry, “You two really need to work on the coloring a bit more. His eyes aren’t even that light.” Fred opened his mouth ready to defend his and his brother’s creation when the door’s opening interrupted him.

“Good evening, everyone,” your mother said cheerfully, “Y/N, we’re heading home.” You nodded at her before waving goodbye to everyone.

When you left, Harry popped the treat in his mouth and his eyes immediately widened. He spat it out with an accusatory glare at the twins, George didn’t seem to notice as his eyes stayed glued on the door you just walked through.

You began to notice a pattern, George seemed to be everywhere. At first, it had started small. Him reminding you of forgotten books, slyly placing more vegetables on your plate in the Great Hall. But George’s random acts of thoughtfulness began to become more extreme. The nice Ravenclaw boy who had been tutoring you disappeared. A couple weeks later during Quidditch practices, George gave you a helmet and some additional padding - even though you were just sitting in the stands studying.

It was endearing but soon it became overbearing and confusing because you were certain that George was dating Angelina. They had looked perfect at the Yule Ball last year, and continued to look perfect together everyday since. The gnawing in your stomach you had felt that night increased tenfold as you saw them laughing in the hallways, the beautiful brown skinned girl always looking bashfully at him. George seemed happy when Angelina was around. If he ever caught your forlorn y/e/c eyes while they talked, he immediately snapped back to her. As if she was the only person in the whole world. As if you didn’t even exist.

Maybe you were reading George’s affections wrong? Maybe the older boy likened himself as an older brother, treating you the same way that he treated Ginny. And yet, he noticed your love of citrus - often presenting you with a clementine throughout the day. He knew you enjoyed 1 lump of sugar and 2 creams in your coffee and always playfully bantered at your preference of it over tea. He remembered your complaint of light pollution in London blocking the night sky, so he took you to the astronomy tower whenever he knew it would be a beautifully clear night. One would assume that George was a romantic, but Angelina was still in the picture.

Over the winter holiday, you had finally broke. Your family was invited to a celebratory “Mr. Wealsey survived” party. 12 Grimmauld Place was decorated with beautiful hanging streamers and twinkling lights, bottles of firewhiskey and butterbeer littered the table alongside plates filled with snacks. Fred handed you a tinted glass with a carefully neutral face. You quirked up your eyebrows before taking a careful sip. Suddenly, the strong taste of alcohol coated your tongue but you didn’t dare make a face to alert the adults in the room that your glass wasn’t “child-friendly”.

“Don’t tell George,” Fred whispered, “he’d have my head.” You laughed before following him to the corner where the other teens loitered. You noticed that Ginny was the only one without a tinted cup, even Herminone had joined in on the secret.

“So what’s the plan for when they figure out no one touched the butterbeer?” You asked with a smirk. Harry’s eyes roamed around the room, “I reckon they won’t mind as long as we’re not too crazy.” Your eyes followed and you silently agreed, all the adults looked happy, although it could be the alcohol. You take another sip, letting the drink settle in your stomach.

Ron snorted, “Sirius might not care if Harry drinks and I don’t know much about Y/N’s folks but mum would go mental.” You had tensed up, Ron had let your secret out. Fred glared at Ron while you took another sip, knowing it would be your last.

George’s eyes narrowed, “what’s in your cup Y/N?”. You smiled at him, hoping to play it off easy. “Same as yours Wealsey.”, you used your cup to gesture towards him. Harry made a not so subtle nod to the others to head over to the snacks, leaving both you and George alone.

“Did you pour the drink yourself?”, he asked scowling. You looked at him blankly, waiting for him to elaborate. “Anyone could have put anything in that drink! What if you'd been poisoned or drugged?” George said a little louder than you would have liked. Professor Lupin’s eyes flickered over to you too with curiosity.

“Can you pipe down a bit? No one is going to drug me at an Order party, we’re all having fun so just chill out and have fun.” You gritted out between smiling teeth. Obviously, you hadn’t chosen your words as carefully as you thought as George began to bristle.

“Give me your drink.” He said urgently.

“No?”, you replied confused by his request.

“It’s for your own good, it’ll make both our nights a whole lot better.” George reached  out for your cup, you instinctively pulled back spilling both of your drinks in the process. You groaned at the obviously not butterbeer stain on your white top while George seemed to fum.

“What is your problem?” he said annoyed. The partygoers began to look at the two of you, both confused and invested.

“What’s my problem? My problem is that you continue to be this overbearing presence in my life when you obviously have a girlfriend!”, you yelled. You were so over George, with his stupid gifts and knowing eyes. How couldn’t he see that he was leading you on?

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” George said, confusion painting his face. Your face felt warm and you were aware that you now had the full attention in the room. Maybe it was the firewhiskey or maybe it was a culmination of the past month but you just couldn’t stop yourself.

“You don’t have a girlfriend? Are you serious? You act as if the whole school hasn’t seen you shag Angelina in the halls? Or are you being an asshole and leading her on too?”, you crossed your arms waiting for an answer. The room was mostly silent except for the sputtering of a speechless George.

“GEORGE WEALSEY, UPSTAIRS NOW!”, Molly roared. George turned a deep shade of red and looked at his father for help. When his father sternly crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows George seemed to accept his fate. He left the room all while Molly ranted about self decency and marriage and whatnot. You hadn’t realized tears had been rolling down your cheeks until your father handed you a handkerchief. The party slowly continued on with occasionally glances towards the hallway that led to the stairs.

You stood with your mother’s arm around you while your father went to retrieve your coats. As your father prepared at leave, Fred stopped you.

“Y/N, wait.”, you felt yourself pause and look up at the older boy. Your heart clenched, you felt guilty for what you had done to his brother.

“Do they say shag in America?”, he questioned carefully. You and your father both shook your heads. To be truthful, it was the first time he had heard the word in his life. “I picked up the word from over here, everyone says it so much at Hogwarts.”, you answered softly. Fred crossed his arms and leant on the banister.

“And can you tell me what it means?”

You frowned, he must have known what it meant. They went to the same school, heard the same rumors. Fred tapped his fingers against his elbow, waiting for your response:

You felt your face heat up, “it’s when you kiss someone...a lot...repeatedly”. Your father’s face flashed with recognition, he now understood Molly’s reaction. Your mother on the other hand cringed, immediately realizing your mistake. “Apparently!”, you hastily added on misunderstanding your mother’s reaction.

“Y/N, darling”, your mother started unsure of how to continue. She looked at Fred a mix of amusement and pity on both of their faces. You felt uncomfortable, did they know something that you didn’t?

“Y/N, that’s not shagging, that’s snogging.”, Fred explained carefully as if he were talking to a small child. “As in, Georgie was talking to Angelina about how he wanted to snog you.” Fred said, fighting off a grin.

You felt yourself blush, was Fred just messing with you or did George truly feel that way.  “So then what did I say?”, you looked at Fred for clarification, then your mother. Surely she knew what was going on and would clue you in. Your dad has been glancing between the three of you, trying to decide if this was general British population terms or magical wizard terms.

Fred opened and closed his mouth, debating on the best way to break this down to you. “Shagging is when two people...y’know…”, he was acutely aware that both you and your father were hanging on to his every word. “It’s when two...or more...people show their...interest...in each other...intimately.”, Fred finished, hesitant to explain further.

Oh. Oh.

Your mouth fell open, “ And so Molly and everyone else thinks -“, you began.

“That Georgie is a right perv, yeah.”, Fred said, scratching his head. You felt an overwhelming amount of guilt, you must have gotten George in a great amount of trouble. You spared a glance upstairs where you could still hear the muffled voice of Molly Wealsey. You silently handed your coat to your mother before setting your jaw and nodded to yourself. You knew you had to right this regardless of your nerves to be in the same room as an angered Mrs. Weasley.

You carefully climbed the stairs, not wanting to reveal yourself just yet. The voices had gotten louder, if you focused enough you could hear what they were saying. You lifted your fist to rap three times against the door, hoping that it would be loud enough to draw attention to yourself. The door opened slightly, revealing a red faced Arthur Weasley. His brows were knitted in confusion.

“Hullo Y/N, we’re a bit busy at the moment. Did you come up to say goodbye?”

You square your shoulders before smiling, “No, Mr. Wealsey. I was hoping I could talk to the three of you, I just wanted to clear some things up.”

Mr. Wealsey looked behind himself, seemingly checking in with his wife before opening the door wider allowing you in. George sat on the bed, eyes glued to the rug in front of him. Mrs. Wealsey forced a smile your way, confused to see you here. You couldn’t help but wonder how often George got in trouble and endured lectures by himself, assuming that whenever he was in trouble Fred would be sitting right next to him.

You cleared your throat, not wanting to lose your nerve. “So...I guess I’m not as well versed in English slang as I would have thought. I was wrong, George didn’t...do anything like that with Angelina in the hallways. I used the wrong word, I’m really sorry.” You finished awkwardly looking behind Mr. and Mrs. Wealsey.

Mrs. Wealsey cleared her throat, “I see. George, I’m sorry for being so upset.” Arthur placed his hand on George’s back, “Truthfully, I don’t mind if you express your interest in that way...as long as we meet them first and -“. Arthur looked up remembering that you were in the room. You fidgeted, not wanting to interrupt an important family moment but also wanting to talk to George on your own. George noticed your torn face.

“Maybe, we can finish this conversation a bit later.”, George looked between his parents with pleading eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Wealsey looked at each other and nodded, they smiled at you before leaving the room. George stood up to close the door but a stern look from his mother sat him right back down.

“I’ve always found your (nationality) tendencies adorable, same with that accent of yours. Never thought it would land me in so much trouble though.” George said with a laugh. He stood up again, walking closer to you. “I think you owe me something in return, for spreading such nasty rumors.” He stopped in front of you, all of his prankster swagger returning.

Even though George was a bit taller than you, he angled himself to meet your eyes. His skin was paler than usual due to the gloomy December weather, which made the perfect canvas for his bright red hair and scattered freckles. His light brown eyes seemed to glow, and you could have sworn there were patches of pure gold. George Wealsey was perfect, from his messy hair to the red bump on his chin. You were both quiet, drinking in each other. You finally found your voice again.

“What did you want for your troubles?”, you whispered. You were afraid if your voice was too loud, the moment would disperse. One sudden move and you and George would be back to stolen looks and tense energy.

George hummed, his eyes flashing to your lips, “Another glass of firewhiskey for starters, maybe a couple sickles -“

“That all?”, you asked, taking a mini step towards him. George flushed a gorgeous berry red, “Maybe...if you would be so kind...also a kiss?”. You composed yourself, you wanted to squeal, jump up and down, maybe even break into a choreographed musical number but you simply nodded. The kiss was gentle, a brush that allowed you to back away if you wanted to. You felt an appreciation that George wanted to make sure you had an out, but you wanted more than a peck. You shifted your weight on the balls of your feet to push into George a bit more, he wrapped his hands around and you placed your hands on the nape of his neck. When you both pulled away for air, you noticed that his hands never moved.

“You reckon anyone would miss us if we kept doing this for a bit longer?”, George asked, dazed. You ducked your head down to hide your grin and George placed a kiss on your hairline. You laughed, all of the jealousy and confusion surrounding you and George evaporating. Before you could open your mouth, your parents called for you from downstairs. You groaned and buried your head into George’s chest.

“Don’t worry love, it's not like you don’t come around every week.” George said, grabbing your hand and pulling you out the door before you reached the landing he pulled you in for another brief kiss. “And then we’ll have school where I’m sure Angelina and Lee would get a kick out of this.”, George laughed as you fought off an embarrassed grin before kissing goodbye and leaving with your parents.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed, as always please message for any requests and don’t feel weird about leaving any comments, opinions, or constructive criticism xxx

[horrorslashergirl]

Rudolph Myers

.This one wormed its way inside my head when I was doing some Christmas shopping and saw a Rudolph costume and taught ‘Michael sure would look hot with horns’.

I am sure that I’m going to hell. Oh well....Cheers guys and an early Merry Christmas!~

Michael Myers x Reader

Warning: NSFW content below...you’ve been warned.

Christmas was probably your second favorite holiday, first been Halloween thanks to your hard as a rock boyfriend. He wasn’t so excited peer say to Christmas, it was too jolly for his brutal personality, beside he hated snow and how his hands were freezing on the handle of his infamous kitchen knife.

For your sake of course he sucked up, after all you didn’t complain this years Halloween when he came all blood dripping in your house, making a mess that you needed almost a week to clean up.

So here you were decorating the Christmas tree that maybe was a bit too big. Your luck was that you bought new Christmas decorations these year so you had enough to fill the whole tree. You tried to reach the higher branches of the tree with no such luck so you went to get a chair, climbing on it to put glitter silver stars.

As you were done with the stars, you took another box of decorations, those been little angels, but when your eyes looked up in the entry of the living room was no other than Michael. You didn’t even hear him; sometimes you cursed his stealthy moves, but right now all you needed to do was to bite your lower lip, trying not to burst into laughters.

Right now Michael was probably fumming behind his mask that amusingly had a pair of reindeer horns with golden bells on the faux hair of his mask and to match the horns a deep red Rudolph nose on the nose of his latex mask. Looking down you noticed a black leather collar with golden bells on it.

Yes, you remember that you persued Michael in dressing up for Christmas, saying it would be fun, since you pleased him in wearing these year Halloween a kitten costume, so it was only fairplay. You had to admit he looked quiet cute like that. If only you can imagine the Shape of Haddonfield dressed up like one of Santas reindeer, oh God! It was prieceless.

“Well, hello there Rudolph~” you teased and giggled, your only respons was Michael grumbling under his mask. He walked to the kitchen probably to feast opon more Christmas cookies, knowing his sweet tooth and appetite. You went on with your decorating, when the chair became to small for the last brances of the tree. Getting down you went to get the ladder, putting it next to the Christmas tree and climbing to finish the top. Maybe some 5 minutes passed when you heard bootsteps coming closer to you, stopping right behind you. Probably Michael wante to see your finish on the Christmas tree; that was when you felt your skirt been lifted a little. Turning your face to see what that big giant creeper was doing, your face felt like it was on fire.

That little shit peeked under your skirt! And worse you were wearing your favorite red lacy see-through panties. You were ready to kick him in the face when his strong arms picked you up with ease, spinning you around, until you were thrown on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, your face almost level with his volouptous derier.

“H-Hey! Let me d-down! MYERS!” you screamed as you banged your small fists on his broad hulk like back, as he took long calculated strides upstairs to his old bedroom and now presently you twos love nest. He kicked open the bedroom door with a bang and closed it with his foot. As he toosed you down the fluffy bedsheets you looked up at the tall hunk of a man as he loomed over you at the end of the bed, just like a predator if only for the Christmas costume, you couldn’t possibly take him seriously.

Still, with that leather collar and those alluring horns he looked kind of kinky. Maybe it could yurn out to be fun. Your lips pulled up in a naughty smirk as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Well then....come here then....Rudolph~” you beckoned Michael with your pointing finger, signalling him to come closer.

He didn’t needed to be told twitch; with one knee pressed on the end of the bed he crawled on all fours to your curvaceous form. As he was now on top of you, his piercing dark eyes meet your glossy shiny ones and you couldn’t hold his gaze anymore; his stare was just so intense even after such a long time he still had these effects on you.

His fingers trailed your form, from your thighs to your hip, then ghosting over your ribs and stopping over your collarbone, where there laied past bitemarks and hickeys from the last love-making you had with Michael. Those bruises where fading, but no worries, because the man above you would make sure to leave new ones today.

His hand moved a little higher until he reached your neck, where in a fraction of a second he had his large hand in a vice like grip on your throat, not enough to crush it to pieces to enough to play with your breath, showing you that he was in complet control, no buts or ifs; just like everytime. Your breath hitched and you let out a gasp of surprise, your tiny hands clutching on the sleve of his coveralls.

Been a little more daring today you moved your leg over his hip, the heel of your foot massaging the muscle of his thigh, making him freeze up a little only to slam his other hand on the headboard of the bed, making a loud noise echo in the empty two story house. Maybe a little bit too daring. The hand on the headboard trailed down to your shoulder just like the hand on the neck, both of them making their ways to the front of your button-up shirt and just like that he ripped it open, making buttons fly over the room down to the floor.

He was so rough and brutal in his movements; he was just himself, taking pleasure in seeing your shocked and wide-opened eyes look up at him. Michael was just making sure that your eyes were focused on him, he hated when you avoided eye contact with him. He pulled the bottom of his mask up, only for his mouth to be exposed. You noticed a little bit of stubble on his chin, making his apparence more roughish and manly. He shaved, well after he meet you you teached him some self care, altough you enjoyed when he had that second day stubble.

His mouth crashed on yours, taking your breath away. He was by far the complet opposite of vanilla, but you enjoyed it; it was so much more fun and he always managed to surprise you. His kisses where full of tongue and teeth crashing together, like a spicy up dance. You could get drunk in his kisses all day, having that taste of candies and blood from biting your lip to hard. As he pulled away from your tongue, his teeth caught your already bleeding bottom lip between his dangerous teeth that you knew could tear into flesh if he wanted to. His dark eyes remained on yours, looking at you as if he was saying ‘I dare you to disobey me’. Michael could talk and he did, but on rare occasions, but his eyes were speaking much more to you.

He let go of your lip as your head hit the pillow. Looking up at the dark man above you that was now sitting on his knees between your legs, with an too obviouse bulge inside his mechanic suit, he licked the remaining blood from his upper lip, his tongue ghosting outside his mouth like a snake. In the dark you could see the mischief that laied in Michaels eyes, even with his mask you could read them like an open book; maybe because he let you. One hand moved to your hip and turned you around, laying on your stomach, but not to long as his strong killer hands dig into your hips pulling your lower body up, sitting you on all fours. That was until one hand pushed right between your shoulder blades, making your face hit the pillow.

You knew what he meant ‘Face down, Ass up.’ What you learned about Michael was that he was a very complicated lover....in the bedroom. He could switch from been sensual to complet animalistic in a matter of second; altough the sensual part was very rare, just when he felt in a very good mood and now he wasn’t exaclly to happy, mainly because of your little teasing, mocking the Boogyman; such a wrong move.

Lifting your skirt up and ripping it in half he could now clearly see your lacy covered heat, a wet spot on the red fabric from the previous foreplay. His hand moved from your thigh to one of your buttcheeks, giving it a harsh slap followed by a rough gropping, leaving fingermarks. You only could moan at the harsh treatment, knowing it was in vain to fight him; let him take what he wants; that’s the rule. He did the same to the other buttcheek, then his fingers ghosted over your covered rose, just his fingertips touching you a little, teasing you, making you squirm. If you turned you would see his devious smirk as you let out wanton moans over and over again, muffled by the pillow.

Taking the top of your panties in his hand he pulled it up, giving your aching womanhood a good wedge, making you holler.

“M-Michael....Oh God!” you bt your lip as tears followed down the corners of your gloosy lust-filled eyes. The piece of lingery was now rubbing so harshly right between your lower lips, making you grind your teeths at the brute behind you who was probably now smirking smugly at your flustered form.

“E-Easy there R-Rudolph.” you looked at him from the corner of your eyes, deciding to poke the bear a little, after all you didn;t wanted to give him full on satisfaction. Instantly Michaels mouth was in a straight line and befor you could even blink anymore, he pulled your panties aside, sticking two long fingers right in your heat, knuckle deep, grinding it as you screamed at the force. His other hand was crushing right behind your neck, making sure you staied put. As you clenched on his fingers, your peak coming closer and closer until he withdrawed his fingers, making you whimper at the lose you were feeling in your stomach.

Your whimper only stopped when you could hear the faint sound of the metallic zipper of his coveralls been pulled down. Taking his lengh out he pulled the head of it on your lower lips, rubbing the hot pink head on your slit, coating it in your juices. It felt so hot that your knees where shaking in anticipation, knowing damn well what that monstrous manhood of his could do to your body. He was the complet definition of succulent male anatomy and you loved it, completly; you would cherrish this man to the end of your life.

You let out a gasp as the bulbous head of his cock slide inside your dripping folds, making your walls clench in anticipation as the lengh slide in inch by inch until he was inside, completly to the hilt, making your grind your ass on his hips, making him growl at your teasing gesture, until he grippied your hips in a dead like lock, giving you the simple silent phrase ‘I am in control.’ All you could o was accept his harsh control.

He pulled almost all of it out, letting just the head inside, then slamming back inside and again and again, over and over again; picking up his speed with each thrust, making your buttcheeks jiggle, with the occasional spankings. His sweaty chest moved over your back as his teeth grazed over your shoulder, nipping here and there, some bites very deep, other just teasingly there. Your eyes rolled inside your head as the head of his lengh hitted your cervix, making sweet shivers of pleasure crawl up your spine.

The hand that wasn’t pinning you down by your neck, sneaked between your legs, his thumb and index finger pinching and rubbing the little bud of nerves under the hood, sending electryfing shocks all over your sweating body, your toes curling with each thrust of Michaels hips. You knew he was getting closer too just from the rapid pace that he picked, the pistoning of his hips getting more sloppy, not to mention the erotic growls and groans that he let out in your ear as you felt the twitching of his lengh inside you.

With one final thrust you felt ropes of cum hitting your walls and cervix, painting your walls white. It was so much for you and he didn’t even stopped.

“Cum.” That sentence that leaved his chapped lips in a deep and roughish voice, made your walls clench around him, sending you on cloud nine, your nails creating little holes in the bedsheets that you were cluching in your fists until your knuckles turned white from presure.

In the silent bedroom all you could heard was both of you trying to catch your breathing after the intense love-making. He pulled out slowly and before both of your juices could leak out he pulled your lacy wet panties over your heat, then giving you one final spank over your red buttcheeks.

“Great....now my ass is as red as your nose, Rudolph.” you complained, trying to sit up and go to the shower, only to stumble over your steps. He smirked at your limping form as he watched his cum dripping down between your thighs.

He might enjoy from now on Christmas if each year would turn out like this one. That’s what Michael taught as he pulled his coveralls all the way down, leaving him naked as he walked to the shower where you were relaxing; his southern Rudolph standing up on attention already.

[vore-scientist]

Reconciliation

(SFW GT M/m and then M/f platonic safe/soft vore)

(alternate title: In Which Something Is Left Behind)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Mostly-spoiler free Summary: based on an old ask “What happens if a thief leaves a sword inside of Yonah?” which became a story that is incredibly crucial for plot/character development. Set early in Yonah and Sophia’s relationship, they are far from friends. Sophia is scared of and hates Yonah. Yonah, hated Sophia too, though at this point he’s ok with her. This is fic involves them starting to reconcile. It’s a high intensity story with a sweet ending!

Warnings: I don’t want to spoil too much so for detailed warnings go HERE, but basic warnings are: a lot of fearplay, sort of food-play, some vomit. Yonah is injured and there is description of the wound + blood, very surreal/unreal references/worries about dig-est/tion (of course none occur).

—-

FEE FI FO FUM

Sophia woke to Yonah’s voice thundering through the tower, and lightning screams following shortly behind.

Desperate, bloodcurdling screeches of whoever Yonah had caught. Sophia knew those screams well, having filled the tower with her own several times since she arrived. Though since learning he couldn’t digest her, it was mostly in defiance; she knew his ears were sensitive. Whoever’s screams were coming from just outside the bedroom door were soon silenced.

Swallowed.

Eaten.

By the Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh.

Sophia couldn’t get the images out of her head. The thief clawing at Yonah’s tough flesh from within the giant’s stomach. Crying. Begging for mercy. Just like she had done that first time. And subsequent times, even knowing she was safe, knowing he would spit her up.

He claimed to spits thieves back up. But wizards lie. Evil wizards especially.

Determination overcoming fear, she scrambled out of her golden cage and ran into the living room, hoping she was not too late. That Yonah had swallowed the thief alive. He should have; she knew from experience how fond he was of a lively bellyfull.

And indeed, she found the wizard sitting in his armchair, eyes closed, mouth a wicked wide smile complete with a picture perfect drop of drool at one corner. His hand was over his stomach, fingers drumming against it as he chuckled. Having fun, taunting his prey.

“It’s quite pointless to fight me,” he taunted, “but don’t let that stop you.”

Sophia silently made her way to the side of the chair. But not so silently that Yonah didn’t hear her. Or maybe he smelled her. Who knows.

The dark eyes of the wizard opened and stared hungrily down before he leaned over and scooped her up.

/please dont eat me please dont eat me please dont eat me/

She didn’t think he would eat her with his belly already occupied, but he was unpredictable and cruel. What if he ate her and didn’t spit up the thief? And she had to sit there as they died? As they were digested?! Her heart beat faster and faster.

“Glad you could join me, princess; I just had the most lovely meal.” He smiled even wider, showing off his sharp canines. He stroked her back, and she stiffened.

“I’M STILL HERE YOU BASTARD!!” came the muffled protests of the thief from his middle. Yonah looked down at it fondly.

He definitely looked full and… oh dear gods, she could see the slight trembling shakes as the thief continued to struggle against the wizard’s gut.

Fighting back the urge to vomit, Sophia glared into Yonah’s too-happy eyes.

“Y-You’re going to spit them out… right?” Her voice came out surprisingly loud.

“WHO WAS THAT!!?”

Yonah ignored the thief and his smile faltered as he hissed, “Now, don’t go spoiling it my dear princess, or- TSSS.” He winced and held his stomach.

“Something wrong!?” Sophia didn’t know if she was worried for Yonah or the thief.

“This Jack’s still got some fight left, that actually hurt,” he said, a single tear forming in the corner of his left eye. Then he saw Sophia’s face, hard and furious.

“Let them go,” she ordered with a hiss, “NOW”

There was a moment where Yonah was stunned, and the room was silent except for the screams of the thief.  Yonah furrowed his brow in indignation. How dare she order him around! She was his prisoner! But Sophia, rather shakily, stood her ground.  Without any warning he took her in a fist. She protested but he held her firmly by his side as he stomped up the stairs to his workshop. He tossed her unceremoniously onto his desk and flashed his eyes.

“You may want to avert your gaze,” he warned as he leaned over, one hand on his stomach, the other palm flat on the surface of the desk.

The sound was somehow more horrible from the outside. As soon as Yonah started to retch, Sophia darted behind the mirror. It took nearly half a minute, but when the nauseating sounds of regurgitation transitioned into choking and then hacking coughs, Sophia chanced a glance.

Sprawled out in a puddle of mucus, stomach fluids, and saliva was the thief. Still breathing. Still alive. And over them loomed a scarlet faced Yonah, strings of spittle still dripping down onto his former victim.

“Welcome back to the outside world, my little morsel,” he growled as the thief stirred and looked up. Yonah had once more set his eyes ablaze and the thief cowered.

“Th-thank you- for sparing me-, I- I-” they stammered. They were shaking so violently Sophia was sure they would crumble to pieces!

Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah.

Yonah’s amusement sent shivers down Sophia’s spine. He was… really good at this. This was an act. Right?

“It is not me you should be thanking, Jack—” he looked at Sophia, whose eyes went wide, “—my sweet little princess couldn’t bear to witness the end of your pointless existence within my bowels.”

/Was he serious?/ She felt a bit faint.

“A-about that-” The thief tried to form words, but Yonah spoke over them.

“I suggest you get out while you can,” Yonah said, turning back to Jack, who paused in the middle of standing up  “I’m not terribly fond of my princess or her feelings.” He picked up Jack by the shirt collar, carrying them to the window. “She caught me in a rare good mood, which won’t last much longer.” He dropped Jack on the stone ledge, leaning his face in so that his nose nearly touched the human, “Especially now that I’m hungry again, and you were oh so delicious.” That last sentence was in the form of a with a ferocious snarl accompanied by a lick of his lips, a hiss of steam, and his hair sparking softly.

Jack wasted no time in practically jumping out the window, disappearing into the early dawn.

Leaving Sophia alone once more with an angry half-FireWitch.

But she would not be intimidated by him. He was her assigned guardian. He could not harm her unless he wanted to be turned into a tree and then cut down and burned to fuel the castle’s furnace. He would make nice, large tree, one that could heat the castle for the entire winter.

Yonah wiped the spit from his mouth, his hair and eyes extinguishing, and sat at his desk. He leaned back, arms crossed, not taking his eyes from the princess.

“Next time you want to get involved, don’t fucking let them know they’re going to live,” he huffed, “Ruins the fun.”

He waited for Sophia to gather her thoughts, watching her pace nervously on his desk. That was so adorable. Humans were so adorable, and this one especially so.

“-act like you’re going to kill them!” She thought out loud, “that’s so… evil!”.

“That’s kind of the point, princess.” Yonah smirked with an eyebrow raised. “You’ve been here nearly a month and you have yet to realize I’m evil. Was telling you not enough? Was eating you alive without letting you know about the curse and then-”

“OK!” She didn’t want to think about it. “It’s just…” she scuffed her foot on the table, “I really thought you were going to kill them. You- to me, you called them a meal. You spoke about them like they didn’t exist anymore, weren’t a person anymore, just food.”

“Stroke of genius on my part, it scared them really good. You couldn’t see it, but I felt it,” he said, fondly remembering the events from a few minutes ago. When he saw the princess twitch and look away he leaned forward. For some reason she looked at him again.

“People aren’t food, princess, giant or small,” he said wisely. “No matter how tasty they are.”

He laughed softly as Sophia made a face at the last comment.

Patting her on the back, he stood up and subsequently doubled over, clutching his stomach, gasping as a sharp pain flooded his system.

Sophia stepped back, not wanting to be in the line of fire. Not that there was any fire, but with a half-FireWitch half-Giant Wizard, one couldn’t be too cautious.

Massive fingernails digging into his desk, Yonah struggled to stay standing, sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes wide his pupils small.

“Sophia.” He looked at her like this was her fault. Uh oh! She knew what that meant.

She backed up further, though she knew it was no good. They had been talking so nicely! They were getting along, sort of. Nice while it lasted. A few minutes of pleasantries before going back to fear and hatred.

“That thief… must have left something inside me.”

“You- you don’t know that! It could be cramps!” she cried as Yonah caught his breath, the air around his mouth distorted with heat.

“Unlikely. Now get over here so I can swallow you!”

That was an order! He’d never ordered her to be eaten. It was a whole new kind of terrifying. He sounded angry. He was always so angry! Why was he so angry?! It wasn’t fair. She had done nothing wrong. Wasn’t eating one person enough for the day! Was traumatizing people so much fun that he had to double dip?

It didn’t matter that she was “safe”. He could still kill her. Still digest her. So what if he said people weren’t food? His words weren’t worth a defaced copper. He could eat her without activating her curse. He could wait for it to wear off! He could cast those terrible illusions again that looked and felt so real.

Sure, he had eaten her more than a few times since that very first time, and had always made sure to make her glass beforehand. But. That didn’t make a damn difference to her. Because that first time. That first time, when— when she didn’t know she was safe. When he made her think she was going to die. When… she didn’t want to think about it. The visuals, the sounds, the sensations all still crystal clear in her mind, she trembled, her eyes blurred with fresh tears from the memories of burning phantom pain.

The wizard was much closer now, leaning across the desk, sophia nearly at the wall. Trembling, she looked into his eyes, seeing only hunger and rage in the bottomless black pupils.

A hand reached for her and she flinched, expecting him to activate her curse and force her down his gullet yet again.

“Please… no,” she squeaked with a sob.

Instead he brushed his fingers against her side. She still tensed and shivered violently. It was not exactly gentle. He nearly knocked her over, she did stumble, and he was a little too rough as he held her between his thumb and palm, rubbing and squeezing her like a toy. Like a pet. Why did he have to pet her. But she took it. In his hands was better than in his stomach.

The only good thing was that it did seem to calm the cranky fire witch down. Like she was some sort of companion he kept for emotional support. As he handled her, he got more and more gentle until his fingers stopped shaking. And rather than kneading her like therapy putty he massaged her, with such care that he must have practiced this on others. Who, Sophia could not guess.

Yonah grimaced and sighed. Then grimaced again. “F-fine. Maybe it’s unrelated. Maybe I’ll be better by tonight. Ok?”

Only managing to blubber a vocal response, she nodded.

He picked her up and she let out a small squeak, but instead of being eaten, she was placed on Yonah’s shoulder. She sat and clung to his shirt while he set about cleaning up his desk. He used magic to get rid of most of the now sticky and dry fluids he’d spat up, but also used some chemicals in jars and two types of sponges.

“YAHHH”

Yonah grabbed at her again and she held onto his robe’s collar.

“The desk is clean now!” he said, pulling harder and forcing her to let go, placing her on the desk and she sat down, avoiding his gaze.

“I want to go to the garden!” Sophia said like a small pampered child. Which she kind of was, pampered at least, being a princess. And small, being barely over 5 feet tall. But at 20 years old, she was not a child.

“Maybe later,” said Yonah in a flat voice, but one that suggested he wanted to agree.

/Wait really?/ Sophia didn’t look up, but her heart lifted.

She had absolutely no skill or talent for horticulture. Which, when she thought about it, was strange for the daughter of a King bonded to a forest. But she desperately wanted to be out of the tower. Spacious as it was for a human, she felt more confined in this tower than she’d ever felt in one back at the castle. And the plants… She liked them. She wanted to know more about them and how to care for them. And she liked how Yonah reduced himself to garden. Sure he was still big, but he wasn’t “big enough to eat her” big.

A small part of her felt bad that for her to feel safe around Yonah, he had to become more “human,” to temporarily reject part of himself. That wasn’t right. But it was how she felt, as the giant set up some books, both spell and note, definitely slamming them onto the desk in not-subtle attempts to give her a heart attack.

Her head hurt, now that she was calming down a little. Not just her head, but… and she felt a little sick, but she couldn’t deny it.

“Yonah!” And Yonah, who moments ago sat down to open both a spell and notebook, and dipped a quill into the ink, looked a bit startled.

“Huh?”

“I haven’t had breakfast yet!” Sophia stood up. “How do you expect me to learn on an empty stomach?”

Yonah frowned, but nodded, “I don’t, but if you continue to be a rude little bitch, It’s my empty stomach that will get filled.”

Whatever. She crossed her arms and let him pick her up to carry her to the kitchen. Thankfully he didn’t leave her to fend for herself, but made a batch of oatmeal for them to share.

—

Yonah hadn’t eaten anything besides the thief, and he hoped that his stomach could handle the simple carbs. It still throbbed with a dull ache. But he was so hungry… and if he didn’t eat anything, he would eat the princess. Mad at her he may be, but that was no reason to eat her. As if he ever needed a reason. Most of the time he just looked for any excuse to “get mad”, but recently he felt bad about it. Her fear wasn’t fun, not anymore, not in this way.

How she shied away from his touch, trembled under his gaze, and was nearly brought to tears when he raised his voice. And it was all his fault, and he hated himself for it.

Unfortunately, he had no idea how to go about apologizing, feeling that, at this point, it was too late. He would just keep being his evil self, like he had been ordered to, and she would hate and fear him like she was supposed to. It was just how things were meant to be.

The oatmeal was ready, and they ate in silence.

Yonah was unable to eat more than a few bites before his stomach started feeling icky and irritable. The thought of another bite made him want to barf, and he’d done that already today. He jarred up the remaining oatmeal and washed the dishes while Sophia finished eating.

When his dishes were dry, he went to the bathroom. While he did need to use it, he also wanted to look at his chest.

At the sight of the ugly purple bruise over his stomach, his heart punched against the inside of his ribcage. Putting his robes back on he went back to the kitchen to find Sophia washing her dishes. Must’ve gotten impatient waiting for him.

“I have some components to prepare today, if you want to watch, or you can do what you want, just don’t leave the tower,” he said.

“Well I,” she started to say, rather loudly, before losing her nerve, saying softly, “What else am I to do?”

“Fair enough.” He took her back upstairs.

Guess he should try to scrape together some sort of teaching opportunity out of today’s to-do list. Maybe he could just narrate his actions and thoughts. That would be good. Give examples of what goes through the mind of a mage as he worked. Demonstrating the process is always good!

Starting with the spells he wanted to construct, making a list and comparing components. Seeing which spells needed what, and which ones used the same parts. Ending up with a table of the total amount of each component needed, plus a little extra.

From there, he gathered the recipes for each component that he was going to make. He didn’t prepare all of them, some he had already made, some he had bought pre-made (like twice distilled, once cursed, fire worm slime), or it came ready to use (like fairy dust).

Now it was to his alchemical bench to start the actual alchemy! Sophia did not like having to climb down his desk and then up his robes to get to the bench. He could have carried her.

“It’s good exercise,” he said. “You’re gonna get lazy if I carry you everywhere. Now where was I?”

The organization she had understood. Now she was lost.

His hands worked so fast, grinding up dried chunks of unicorn hooves or horns, powdering hen’s teeth, sifting Ogre’s Wheat. Extracting extracting pollen from Blistering Ginger Blossoms, the nectar from Thunder Mustard, and sap from Green-Headed Swamp Black Oak Seedlings. Distilling liquid fear from Hare’s Fluxroot and concentrating the oils of Common Thousand-leaf clover.

There were moments, when Yonah took out delicately small tools, much too small for his hands, and worked them deftly. Or tried to… he swore when his hands slipped or he broke something. As the day went on he made more mistakes and swore more frequently. Eventually his eyes glowed and his hair started to smell like a dying campfire.

Sophia, who had attempted once to interrupt him for clarification only to be met with hostility, couldn’t resist teasing her tormentor. Especially as he snapped the third rod of void-fungus infested bamboo between his fingers, squirting the fungal ink all over his glasses.

“OHmygods just shrink already you stupid stubborn giant!” Sophia blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Excuse me?” Yonah turned to her, his eyes still full of fire. “For someone so scared of being eaten by me, you’d think you could hold your tongue!” He licked his lips, “it’s almost like you want me to eat you.”

Sophia quickly ducked behind a glass contraption with a bulbous middle and curly tubing.

“No! I’m sorry! But! Wouldn’t this be easier if you were—”

“If I were human?” he said through gritted teeth. “There is so much about my life that would be easier if I were born human. I wouldn’t have had to lie to get into school, I wouldn’t have been arrested for attending, I wouldn’t be stuck here In my own personal prison! I wouldn’t have to look after a bratty princess!”

He sighed and pushed away his anger. It was hard, but at least his eyes returned to white and brown. He smiled cheekily.

“But I wouldn’t trade being a giant for anything.” He looked like he might cry, but quickly covered it with dark humor. “For one thing, I wouldn’t get to eat people.”

Sophia glared at him through the glass, her head distorted, making him laugh.

“The thing is princess, I normally would reduce for the more delicate work. But if that thief left something inside me, something that won’t reduce with me, well-” He couldn’t finish that thought. Instead he sat on his chair, a dark cloud hanging around him that slowly went away as he cleaned the ink off his glasses.

“Oh,” Sophia came back around, and just observed the giant.

He looked more like someone’s eccentric uncle than a fearsome monster, even the heavy smell of smoke that hung around him. For surely any eccentric uncle smokes fancy cigars.

After that, he stuck to work he could do at his natural size. Which meant he could only create about half the supplies on his list. For a second he thought about having Sophia, with her small human hands, do some work. Nope. He was too mad at her, and didn’t want to initiate conversation, didn’t want to attempt to instruct her in case he couldn’t control his anger.

At least the pain seemed to have gone. Maybe his body had taken care of whatever the thief did to him.

They did not, however, do any gardening.

—

Sophia screamed in horror as Yonah fell off his chair and vomited on the kitchen floor.

Barely digested clumps of buckwheat and meat and vegetables… and blood.

It had been wrong to think that Yonah would be okay.  She should not have gotten her hopes up when he was able to eat dinner, for it was only 10 minutes after his first bite that he became sick.

She should run. She knew what was coming, and she should run and hide. He was weak, he was in pain, he was pretty much incapacitated! He might not be able to catch her! He was refusing to reduce, and there were plenty of little hiding places in the tower that he couldn’t reach as a giant.

Instead her legs stood up and marched her to the edge of the table with a view of Yonah kneeling on the floor, coughing and spitting and crying. She wanted to put her hands over her eyes, but they only went to her mouth.

The giant turned his head up, eyes red and puffed.

“Sophia-” he could barely speak.

“Just- make it quick…”

—

Several minutes later, Yonah had cleaned himself up, and was sitting in his armchair, in the living room. Sophia, curse activated, sat in his lap. He had given her several vials of the magical glass paste. ‘Just in case,’ he had said. Normally she only took one with her.

“Sophia,” he said again, “thank-”

“Don’t!” She took a deep breath, “Just- just eat me already-”

With trembling hands he lifted her to his mouth, then a little higher, so she was eye to eye.

For once there was no hunger in those earthy eyes. Not that it made her feel any better about this.

Sitting on his palm, holding onto a finger, she was lowered, feet first, into his mouth. Normally he ate her head first… her legs were in his mouth, her feet about to enter his throat, but her torso was still outside. Still clinging to that finger even as he started to swallow.

There was absolutely no flavor. At least, his mind wouldn’t acknowledge any. And against her request, he went slowly. He knew she was trying not to cry. She had cried every time he’d eaten her so far. This time, a few tears ran down his cheeks.

Eventually he had to stick his fingers into his mouth so that Sophia could maintain contact with the outside world. The tiny glass hands of the princess were so tight it cut off his circulation. Until he swallowed again, and the last of Sophia slipped away; her hands released their hold. Out of the tip of his finger, he sent a bead of light to follow her.

The lump made its way to his stomach, and it was worse than he’d anticipated.

Instead of the normal, pleasant stretching and weight of the glass princess there was a ripping pressure. His head spun, his heart thundered, his ears rang.

No. That wasn’t his ears…

Sophia was screaming!

“AAAAAAAAH!” it was window shattering, but thankfully not giant-eardrum shattering.

As she flailed wildly within him, causing waves of pain to ripple through his body, Yonah drew his knees up to his chest, which also hurt, but he couldn’t stay still otherwise.

“What-” he attempted.

“THERE’S STILL FOOD IN HERE! YOU DIDN’T PUKE IT ALL UP! GET ME OUT GET ME OUT GET ME OUT!”

“Not until you look around!” he said as clearly as he could.

“IT’S NOT LIKE THERE ARE NOOKS AND CRANNIES! THERE’S NOTHING BUT-”

*tink*

RAAAAAAAHHH!

“F-F-Found-dit” Sophia squeaked.

Now that she knew where it was, she saw it clearly. It had been camouflaged by being covered in blood, matching the flesh around it.

A jeweled sword hilt stuck out of the muscle. The entire section of flesh was a deep purple as red blood trickled down it, mixing with the half-digested food goop, turning brown.

“Greht”

“I’m going to pull it out,” she snorted and rolled up her sleeves.

“Wait pull what - GRAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

She barely gave it a tug and there was a spray of blood. She screeched, falling back on her ass, the stomach undulating and clenching with distress. Blood dripped down her face, thankfully not able to soak into her glass clothes or stick to her glass skin.

“D-don’t do that again,” Yonah begged.

“How else am i supposed to get the damn sword out!?” Sophia shouted upward.

Yonah cursed.

“Sword- fucker had a hidden sword-” He coughed and it hurt so bad as he felt Sophia squish inside him, connecting with the sword again.

“Just. Give me a minute.”

Sophia closed her eyes and drew her knees to her chest, holding them there with her arms. One minute. Another minute added to the time she was imprisoned inside the monster who was supposed to be her teacher. In his stomach. She still didn’t know if anyone had ever met their end in here. Yonah claimed to let thieves go he spared the most recent one. But that didn’t mean he let them all go. He could be lying to protect her sanity.

No. That didn’t make sense. He wanted her to leave right? If he made it clear he DID in fact kill people this way, wouldn’t that be a great way to scare her off?

Okay, the minute was up, she shifted around and grasped the hilt and pulled again.

“Hold on!” Yonah panicked but she ignored him.

A moment later he was on the floor.

Had she not been made of glass she would have gone deaf as the screams returned loud enough to burst flesh ear drums. Reverberating through her form. For a moment she thought she might crack or shatter.

The sword was in her grasp. The muscles tensed, jittered, and constricted as Yonah gasped and fought against the pain. With so much activity Sophia got submerged in bloody chyme. She held the blade and her non-existent breath while the flesh around her pulsed angry and hot.

But not boiling. The fluids swirled and flowed around her but left her glass body unmolested. She closed her eyes and pretended that this was just a hot bath as she let Yonah cough and catch his breath.

It took several minutes but eventually the muscles relaxed, the pulse was no longer raging, and the heavy, painful breathing had subsided slightly. As the muscles let go of their tension the fluid level dropped. She could see again, she could speak again.

“Gottit.” Her voice was wispy, but she was confident he could hear her.

She felt the short gasping breaths above her as Yonah squeaked out a “I- figured. Owwww.”

He gave no indication of letting her out, but considering he was still a blubbering mess on the floor, Sophia was not going to bring it up yet. She could… deal for a little longer.

Doing her best to ignore her torturous surroundings she studied the sword. It was… ugly. Well it was actually incredibly beautiful. The fillegry and detail, and pattern of gems enchanting and uncanny. But it felt ugly. She turned to the wound hidden in the folds, pushing the flesh aside to get a proper look. Yonah hissed in pain, cursing her out, but she didn’t care. Blood glooped sluggishly, steadily out.

Should it be?

“Yonah?”

After a sharp inhale, “Y-yes? I- I can’t get you out yet”

“I know. I know. Just… The wound is still bleeding.”

Another sharp breath. “unfort- un-uh- sadly I don’t know–“HUFF. ”–how l - how long for wounds to” HUFF “clot in the stomach. I’m not” HUFF “a ph-phy- doctor.”

“Yeah me neither but… Also..”

Her tone did not inspire confidence.

“This sword, it feels wrong.”

Oh boy.

“Describe it.” His mind was running through the hundreds of common sword enchantments.

She did her best, and Yonah cursed and coughed his loudest so far.

“It’s a fucking everbleed blade. The wound isn’t going to stop bleeding. Fuck me. Fuck!”

“What! Surely there is something-”

“There is but you’re not going to like it.”

—

“Ready?”

“Whatever.”  If she could gag in this state she would have as the disgusting gulping sound reached her ears.  

Soon enough, a small vial joined her. “Small for Yonah, anyway. For her, it was a large jar, which, now all slippery, was difficult to get a grip on even if she had not been holding onto the enchanted blade. And she had to be careful. She didn’t want to make another cut which also would not close without intervention.

Actually… SHIT.

“Hey fucker!” She kicked and she smiled as Yonah’s breath caught painfully.

“-yes?” he squeaked out.

“Swallow a damn sheath for this fucking sword! I nearly dropped it!”

“Ehhhh yeah. Hold on. I know I’ve got something here.”

There was a lot of movement as Yonah made the difficult trip to a storage cabinet full of the random crap adventurers left behind.

Another gulp and she had her sheath, magical, so probably indigestible, and Yonah returned to his chair. Actually he sat on his couch so that in case he needed to lie down, it wouldn’t be on the floor.

She turned her attention to the wound, which was difficult to see, and even harder to work the potion into. The flow of blood was a barrier between the flesh and the potion. It needed to be cleaned up a bit. But how… DOUBLE SHIT!

The steady mouthfuls worth of water flowed down the stomach walls as Yonah drank, clearing off enough of the blood and exposing the open wound, which looked worse than before.

The potion was more of a salve, and she scooped it out in handfuls. It was clear and glittered. It wasn’t easy to coat the actively bleeding mucus covered flesh, but out of sheer determination, she did it.

Almost immediately, her hands were covered in blood and mucus. To be fair her whole body was, but now her hands looked like they were dipped in red paint. Every touch of the wound caused Yonah to squirm. To whimper. To shudder. She scooped up a glob of potion into her fingers and slid them into the cut.

Yonah screeched.

When she was done had half the potion left, and waited for Yonah to recover from her “treatment.”

“Ok let me the fuck out!” She resisted kicking his stomach since she had just spent 10 minutes applying medicine to it.

The stomach shifted, he must have been lying down. And the walls started to convulse as the wizard made the attempt to vomit once more.

All he managed to spit up was more bloody goop and the last remaining soft chunks of food. Catching his breath, he tried to speak.

“Sophia-”

“Don’t fucking tell me-”

“I- I can’t. - seem to.  -  throw you up.” His voice was high and painful.

He was shaking. Surely she could feel that.

“Sophia?” He coughed.

No response.

“Sophia!” With strength recovered by desperation and a few hot tears gathering at his eyes.

“Fuck - off”

“I- can’t do that.” He blinked and a near boiling drop of water ran down his face. Then another.

“Then shut the fuck up.”

He lay back down on the couch, resisting the urge to rub at his stomach. Which was easy. It was so bruised that even a gentle touch flooded his body with agony. Even Sophia’s presence was painful.

At least the pain was starting to dull. His chest was still very sore. Well. He had been stabbed. But he wasn’t crying from the pain. The tears were partially from the exertion of trying to throw up… and mostly because Sophia was trapped in his stomach and he couldn’t get her out!

That was bad!

They could keep recasting her curse, but he needed to eat! And sleep! He couldn’t do either of those things with her there. He couldn’t. It… would be… dangerous… He had to calm down. He had to rest. He had to heal.

—

She wasn’t completely sure, but certainly this was the longest she had ever been here. The memories of the past scare just at the edge of her mind. Yet the longer she sat there, the more distant they were.

Light snores came from above her.

She sat up and Yonah startled awake.

“YOU! CANNOT! FUCKING! FALL! ASLEEP!” She shrieked loud enough to shatter a magical mirror.

Not only was the prospect of sitting in his stomach while he slept abhorrent, he was exhausted. He was hurt.

She. Could. DIE.

For the past few weeks she slowly became less scared for her life when her so-called mentor ate her alive. To the point where she almost was more angry than scared when he did.

All of that came undone as the giant nearly fell asleep. The very real danger coming back like a punch to the gut with a knight’s gauntleted fist. If anything she was more scared than when she thought he was trying to deliberately kill her. He was in control of that situation. In control of her life! She was his responsibility! How DARE he so carelessly endanger her!

Yonah’s pulse quickened and he hissed a weak, agonizing “fuck” as she kicked him back to consciousness.

She was right. And he had an idea.

Yonah gingerly got up and from a hidden storage room (behind the pantry cold room), he got out a box. He took the box up stairs and removed a pedestal, perched on top was a golden harpy claw clutching a large green crystal. Large for a human. Normal sized for Yonah, aka, MINISCULE!! And if he fucked this up it would kill them both.

This was gonna be fun at his full size! He still couldn’t shrink down, not with the magic sword and Sophia still inside him, so this was going to require a steady delicate hand. Too bad he was shaking from the pain.

Miracles are rare, and often small.

The crystal was removed without catastrophe. Now to… uh. Shit. This might take a while, he needed to do a little more research… he was so tired. But he needed to have this done before he passed out! Maybe he could refine it later? Yeah. Later.

He hadn’t set up many spells that had to communicate with each other. He had to hunt down a few books that he hadn’t opened in a while.

So old and dust that he coughed harshly opening one of them. But it was Sophia bouncing around and subsequent pissed off movements that brought forth more tears.

“Ok, I can’t take it anymore What the fuck are you up to? Something to get me out of here?” she asked.

It took a moment for him to hold onto a breath.

“No… it’s-”

“Don’t fucking care!” Fuck him! He should be doing everything in his power to get her out.

“You should! OW!” She’d kicked him, “It’s a device that will keep you alive. I don’t know if I can stay awake until I’m healed, and the healing potion works faster on someone who is sleeping.”

“I THINK YOU CAN FUCKING DEAL WITH THE EXHAUSTION! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! THIS IS YOUR PUNISHMENT!”

Oh, it was so tempting to rub at the princess, but it would hurt him more than it would bother her.

“You don’t get it! I might pass out in the attempt! And who knows what it would take to wake me up at that point. This way I can sleep and know I’ll wake up in time! OUCH! Stop kicking me!”

“I thought you enjoyed my struggles.” Her voice warbled. “I thought you enjoyed my distress! Why would you want to sleep through that! Miss out on the glorious misery you’re inflicting upon me! Why would you leave me to suffer alone in here while you sleep away your problems?!”

“That’s- not- no.” He was about to explain that her movements hurt him in his injured condition, but she knew that. Oh gods. She was right. If he slept then she would be effectively alone. He would be abandoning her. And she was so scared right now, scared and at his mercy.

“If you insist, I’ll stay awake. I might have to drink some coffee. I’ll make it strong so it won’t be much. But I will stay awake if you need me to. I- I don’t want you to suffer more than you already have.”

She didn’t say anything for a while.

“Does the healing magic really work that much faster if you sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“You could try to sleep too.”

There was a perfectly timed pause before she laughed, shrill like the cracking of many panes of glass. It sent crackling shivers up his spine and to his brain.

“Sleep! in HERE! In your STOMACH!?! I’D HAVE AN EASIER TIME ON A BED OF RUSTY NAILS! THAT WOULD BE SAFER TOO! I’m staying awake. I’m not about to wake up half digested just to give you my final words.”

“That’s not gonna happen, I won’t let it happen.”

He was about to return to his books but Sophia kept talking.

“Sure, whatever. Just, if I die here…”

“You’re not-“

“IF I DIE HERE!” she growled. She was so not fucking around, “Tell my father I said to make your death swift and painless.”

“I- okay.” But he was determined and confident in his plan. And he had found the right books.

But before continuing…

“Do you want to reset the spell now?”

The offer surprised her. She took a while to respond again.

“You only gave me a few vials of paste, wouldn’t that waste one?”

“I can always swallow more. But you don’t need the whole vial. Just a dab. Heh-” He did rather inaccurate calculations in his head (he cannot know the volume of a dab he cannot see). “-you probably have enough for at least a week long stay in the HaEsh Inn”

“Don’t fucking joke about that!”

“Sorry, that was… insensitive of me”

“But. Good to know. Yes. Please.” She uncorked a vial and dipped a finger in, applying the paste to her forehead.

At her signal, he placed a hand to his stomach and carefully drew up magic within himself. He hoped this worked. He realized he did not know if he could recast it if she was inside him. In theory it should! There was no reason it shouldn’t. However in this moment…

FUCK! How could he be so stupid! If this failed he would run to Miryan, sleep be damned. The dwarf witch wouldn’t approve of his actions, and would never speak to him again, but they would save the princess before that.

He did not tell Sophia of his sudden change in plans. Of how this was a much more precarious situation than he had thought.

Forcing himself to calm down, as the princess’s life depended on it, he drew breath. The words of the enchantment left his lips, the magic swirled around in his stomach.

“I. It worked,” Sophia squeaked, almost happy. “I don’t know how I know, but I know, I can feel that it’s been reset.”

Thank fuck. There was a moment’s relief from all his pain at the knowledge that Sophia was safe.

“I’ll get back to work then. The sooner I can sleep, the sooner you get out.”

“Yeah, just. Whatever.”

Not exactly a vote of confidence but he didn’t expect much more.

After gathering the materials, he started working on the equations and procedure layouts.

The release trigger was the tricky part. Not only did the magic have to release when the timer ran its course, but only release a minuscule amount of its power. Anything more and it could do serious damage at the least.

It took several spells applied and adjusted and twisted into each other, but by some miracle he finished it before Sophia’s enchantment wore off. Not that it would have been a problem otherwise, but he was proud of his timing.

In his hands he held an unassuming Hour Glass. Okay, it was very beautiful and large. Not half giant sized, but big for a human. Other than that it looked normal… except for the  green crystal wedged into the neck. And woven through it was a buttload of magic.

By measuring the rate of the sand fal,l he calculated the volume to last 4 hours minus 15 minutes. That way it would wake him with plenty of time, as long as her enchantment had just been cast or reset.

“It’s done,” he announced. “Nothing to say?”

He waited.

“Ok, fine, but I’m going to sleep. So be ready to reset the spell in a few minutes,” he informed her.

“You’d have to anyways,” Sophia said, “it’s gonna wear off soon.”

“That’s some pretty good sense of time.”

“Fuck off!”

Not what he expected. Sure it wasn’t an impressive skill, but he wasn’t trying to be demeaning. Unless.

“Can. Can you feel the enchantment about to run out?”

She really didn’t want to talk to Yonah anymore. He was about to abandon her, he was about to leave her in her personal torture chamber as he took a nice 4 Hour nap!

“I think so,” she said, “it’s like my skin is… numb but not numb. A memory of being numb, and a bit cold. It’s really… warm in here and I don’t think I’m feverish.” She thought for a moment about lying. Nah, it wouldn’t help in the end. “I’m about 5 minutes from turning back,”

Plenty of time.

Yonah entered his bedroom. With a wave of his staff he swapped his robes for a nightgown. He didn’t like using magic to get dressed but… he didn’t feel like disrobing with an occupant.

It hurt to lay down, Sophia got jostled and had to re-adjust. His midsection throbbed and felt like it was burning as the already inflamed muscle and tissue was aggravated.

He turned the hourglass and reset Sophia’s curse. He also had her apply more potion. For normal wounds one would re-apply regularly. He wasn’t going to waste the ability to do so.

Even with the pain he felt himself quickly falling unconscious and managed to mumble a “goodnight”.

Before passing out he swore Sophia responded with “goodbye.”

—

Four hours. She had FOUR FUCKING HOURS to sit and wait to see if whatever Yonah had made worked. Or if she would die.

And each minute was an eternity. Just waiting to die or not! Ahahahah!!!! How the FUCK could he sleep with her in such imminent danger from his own body! Her mind was way too anxious, way too terrified, way too angry.

Too…

Too…

Somehow she had avoided crying since he swallowed her over 5 hours ago. An incredible feat since she cried nearly every time before this. Quiet, fearful, scared cries. Not deep heavy sobs.

“Something wrong?” The sleepy voice rumbled around her.

She hadn’t thought  she could feel any more emotions, but her frustration turned to anger turned into rage.

“WRONG!? WRONG!?” She felt him tense.

“Let’s see: my father shipped me out without notice to be the prisoner of an evil man-eating Mage-giant! Said evil man-eating giant acted like he was going to teach me magic but actually cursed me so he could eat me alive and make me think I was going to DIE, made me think I WAS DYING! Threatened to ACTUALLY KILL ME if I made him mad again Because my FATHER said if I ran away then he wouldn’t have to teach me!”

He winced but didn’t interrupt as her Voice grew in intensity.

“And even after that failed he continues to eat me whenever he fucking feels like it knowing he still wishes I would just run off like a good little princess! BUT I DIDN’T! I DIDN’T GIVE UP! And the reward for my perseverance is getting stuck in his stomach waiting to die surrounded by his half digested blood!”

Not needing to pause to catch her breath, she kept going without losing any steam.

“Even if I survive I’ll just get eaten again! And if I tell my father, he’ll definitely kill you. And no, I don’t care if you die; this is my ONLY chance to learn magic, my lifelong dream! What a NIGHTMARE! I have a mentor who HATES ME, DOESN’T ACTUALLY WANT TO TEACH ME, and EATS ME! SO that’s what is fucking wrong! Im scared, eaten, pissed off, and I HATE YOU! I hate you SO MUCH!”

Yonah sat up and was so numb in his thoughts that he didn’t even respond to the stabbing pains as Sophia’s tantrum continued as a performance art.

“That was, harsh, princess,”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sneered.” I’m not at my most tactful when steeped in bloody bile”

This time he felt he deserved the jolts of pain as she kicked his tender insides. Recovering, he took a deep breath and let out a shaking sigh.

“Maybe tact isn’t what we need right now. I’ve… I’ve been horrible to you.”

“JUST NOW REALIZING THAT HUH?!”

“No. I knew I was horrible, like you said. I was trying my best to get you to run but-“

“IT DIDN’T WORK! SUCK IT YOU EVIL BASTARD”

Another kick. Ignoring the pain, he continued, “But- not anymore. You were wrong about a few things.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t want you to leave, I do want to teach you, and I don’t hate you.”

“WOW! Wonderful! I still hate you!”

“That’s fair. I can’t blame you after what I did. I’m not proud of it. At the time I was convinced it would get you to give up. You were much stronger than I thought. Are stronger. Or more foolish.”

“Oh so because I’m a princess it must be because I’m ditzy?”

Right, he shouldn’t be joking right now.

“Foolish was the wrong word. Foolhardy, and determined. You are incredibly brave, Princess, especially right now.”

He took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe you hate me. If you did you wouldn’t be in my stomach right now.”

“ExCUSE me?” Her voice grated like fingernails on rough glass.

“You let me eat you this time. Because I was hurt. You pulled a sword out of my stomach! You applied healing potion! You did this to help me, your evil captor. I can’t imagine how… rough this has been for you.”

“No, you can’t. But I definitely hate you.” She spat, “I’m just a good person, unlike you.”

“Fine. You can hate me. So. After all I’ve done…. After tonight. Do you still want to learn magic from me?”

“No! I don’t!”

“That’s-” That wasn’t what he expected. He did expect that next kick, it was just as painful.

“But it’s you or no one, so I will. Even if you’re really just keeping me around as a new favorite snack-”

He laughed, and then she laughed when he cried out in agony. His own mirth had betrayed him.

“As delicious as you are, as filling as you are…” She kicked him, he deserved that. “I want you to stay because I want to teach you. You have a lot of potential to become a powerful mage”

He felt her snort.

“I’m serious. I… haven’t been so good with your lessons so far. But despite my gods awful instruction you still learned.”

“You’re lying to make me feel better.”

“I’m not!” he insisted. “I actually like being a teacher. I give lectures whenever I can back at the Academy!”

“Really? Wait, I don’t care-“

“I just wasn’t thrilled with having a student dropped upon me suddenly! And you weren’t thrilled about being sent to be my prisoner. I certainly wasn’t!”

“If you’re a prisoner of my dad and I’m your prisoner… am I a double prisoner?”

Again he laughed and then convulsed as the renewed pain arrived.

“Don’t answer that! I’m allowed to make jokes! You’re not!”

“… But. Now. Remember last week? In the garden?”

“You mean when you let me leave the tower for the first time!?”

“Yes… obviously you were excited for some fresh air”

“BETTER THAN THE AIR IN HERE THAT’S FOR SURE!”

“Your… excitement and enthusiasm for the garden. It kinda reminded me of well, me. It was also the first time you smiled since… since I cursed you. And I can’t believe I ever wanted to deny you your happiness…”

“… So…” he finally continued, “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t speak for a long time and he lay back down. Without realizing it, Sophia mirrored his movements, laying down into the soft bed of flesh. It felt almost like being hugged. Though she could do without the smell of blood. The muffled sound of Yonah’s slow breaths came from above her head, as well as the steady pounding of his heart.

“I believe you. That you’re sorry. But that doesn’t erase what you did. What you made me experience in here.”

“I won’t ever do that again. Not to you, not to anyone.”

Yeah well, he’d still done it. Whatever. She wouldn’t ever forgive him, but perhaps she could move past it.

“You claim you don’t want to deny my ‘happiness’, yet you continue to eat me. Are you going to stop eating me? It’s hard to be happy when scared out of my wits every other day.”

He scrunched his face. He didn’t eat her that often! However It probably felt like it to her.

“Not going to lie, princess, I plan to keep eating you.” He felt her slide a bit no kicking, “but if you really want me to stop. I’ll stop.”

She shifted.

“I have just one more question.” He said.

“One more.” She would hold him to it.

The deep breath which followed rolled over Sophia as the inflating lungs pushed down on the other internal organs.

“Are you scared? Right now? Are you scared of me?”

She took so long to answer that he thought she had chosen to ignore him.

Then,

“Just. Go back to sleep.”

Sophia did not realize how much tension Yonah had been holding onto as he sighed and everything around her relaxed. Well not everything. The wound wouldn’t let his stomach relax completely.

“Will you be ok?”

“That’s another question!”

He chuckled, winced, noted that that last kick wasn’t as forceful, and let himself fall asleep.

—-

No.

No.

She wasn’t scared. Not in the same way. If he wasn’t currently incapacitated and unable to get her out, she might not be scared at all. Only proxy scared from flashbacks to the first time…. But he couldn’t get her out. He might sleep through his alarm! He might digest her alive for real!

And yet. Now, after 6 total hours of not dying, she was mostly bored out of her mind.

The fluids around her were still threatening. But they couldn’t follow through. The noises weren’t as thunderous and angry, but more… whimsical and foolish. The disgustingly slimy walls that tensed and squoze her? Trying their best to help turn her to mush? Well… failing that they were soft, warm, and rocked her gently.

Maybe she should sleep. At least sleep was something enjoyable. And right now it was about the most fun thing she could think of.

While her body didn’t feel tired, her brain was demanding rest. Which was odd since it didn’t feel particularly tired either…

Maybe she would have a nice dream before the end.

And she did dream. She dreamt she was back at the castle, with her siblings! They were at some sort of party. But not a large one. It wasn’t in a room she recognized; actually it was in the forest. Stretched out in the canopy, providing shade, were horrible pink tarps with designs that made sense until they didn’t. The food and drink were fantastic!

The conversation was lacking. Even at this venue she knew she was still a prisoner of the giant. But at least she wasn’t in his stomach. At least he wasn’t here.

She kept trying to tell them about her crazy experiences with her man-eating tutor, how maybe her father (who no one could find but everyone swore he was around) should be told! But people would just smile and laugh no matter what she said.

Only Daniel even believed her story! But he still didn’t seem concerned. He produced another bottle of mead.

Then the sky darkened, the scenery fading away. The harder she tried to bring it back, the faster it disappeared. Except for Daniel. He stayed clear and bright, smiling, stretching to show sharp teeth, and swung the bottle, full force, at her head.

—

You know those pins and needles you get in your limbs after they fall asleep?

That’s what Sophia’s brain felt like, and also like she really had been struck. Judging by Yonah jolting awake and groaning, he felt the same.

She was about to say something like “Ah, that’s why you were so confident. If you slept through that it would mean you were dead,” but she wasn’t about to praise him. Now that he knew she could feel the spell wearing off, now that he had this alarm, she knew that future trips to his stomach would last longer. Great.

WAIT! There didn’t have to be future trips! If she asked him to stop then he would! He had said so! But… was she going to ask? She really should, right? Who in their right mind would continue to let themselves be eaten?

“HEY!” A spot of light appeared in front of her face. “I could’ve cast that on my own!”

“I figured you… never mind,”

Before Yonah attempted to spit her up she applied the rest of the healing potion.

Blood smeared on her arm and she knew in her heart it wasn’t healed enough.

“I’m sorry.” The giant’s voice was weak from five minutes of dry heaving.

Sophia sat back down, into the flesh with an adorable *squish* sound, fuming.

“I think, I think I just need to sleep again. And if you let me, drink some water.”

“I can’t exactly stop you!”

“I’m asking your permission”

“Well! You don’t really need it so don’t think you’re being respectful! It’s too late for that! Drink some fucking water. It’s all goopy and bloody in here so maybe it will clean it up.”

Yonah didn’t like her describing the state of his stomach, even if that was what she was there for, but at least it scared his growing hunger a short distance away. He hadn’t gotten a proper meal since… the previous morning! Even with the princess taking up space in his stomach, it was long past the time it could be tricked into true fullness.

One glass of water wasn’t really enough, and he had to drink it slowly so that Sophia wouldn’t be submerged. At least his mouth wasn’t so dry and sticky. Then the spell was reset and the hourglass flipped.

“It’s a terrible wake up call,” Sophia noted as Yonah lay back down. He didn’t hurt as badly; so the healing potion must be doing something. Then he finished processing what she had said.

“Wait. Did you. Fall asleep?”

*Oof* her forceful movements still hurt a great deal.

“It’s BORING in here!”

“Well. I hope I… wasn’t… uncomfortable.”

“It wasn’t ideal. It’s a stomach.”

Truth be told… if it weren’t for that it would be a decent bed. Gross? Yes. Slimy? Yeah. But warm and soft.

SHE WASN’T GOING TO TELL HIM THAT!

She was definitely going to try and fall asleep again… she still didn’t feel that tired, but her brain knew the passage of time well enough that it THOUGHT it should and therefore /could/ sleep.

In minutes Yonah had fallen asleep. His mind and body drained and hurt, it was an effort to stay awake.

…

No.

No.

She wasn’t scared.

Not of him.

Not anymore.

He’d placed a vile curse on her so that she couldn’t be harmed. So she was safe. He did in fact have teaching experience (something he and her father neglected to mention!). So he could teach her. He had not been prepared for an unexpected roommate/prisoner. Neither was she. So they were both going to have to adjust.

If she didn’t think too hard about her current location… it wasn’t so bad. The warmth and moisture were a little uncomfortable and it didn’t smell great, but since her body was made of glass, it didn’t bother her. The rhythm of the Giant’s pulse was kinda soothing. He might be a jerk, but he had opened his heart tonight. Tonight he put his trust in her and in him. Literally trusting her inside of him, when he knew she hated him. She no longer worried about him changing his mind and letting her die. He wouldn’t have gone to all that effort to keep her alive otherwise.

She was a bit scared of the alarm. That was super unpleasant. It hurt a lot! But it did its job.

Absentmindedly examining the potion jar (since there was little else to do) she found a small amount of potion left. Conjuring up her own light (his having faded with his consciousness), she rubbed it into the wound. The flesh convulsed but Yonah didn’t wake, and no fresh blood came forth.

As carefully and cautiously as she could manage, she wedged herself into the folds of muscle, letting them embrace her and push her around. She could almost be on a boat at sea.

Which is what she dreamt of until the alarm went off again.

——

“FREEDOM! SWEET FUCKING FREEDOM!”

Coughing, Yonah pulled the princess out of his jaws and into the bathroom sink with a splash. It was easier to wash off when glass, no worries about ruined clothing.

The sword was placed to the side to be dealt with later.

Once he’d had water and Sophia was dry, he dispelled her curse, even though it was a only a few minutes from ending.

Then he shrunk down next to Sophia, who was sitting on a giant sized towel. Now they were both on the countertop, frozen in awkward silence.

“Uh, why- OH!”

He probably should have asked permission but he scooped her up in a very complete hug. Her feet dangled above the ground. He had picked her up many times, and at his reduced size she always ended up slung over a shoulder. Now he held her securely, lightly, just barely squeezing her.

For a moment she tensed, until she heard him sniff. No… he wasn’t smelling her, he was on the verge of tears! Or would be in tears if he wasn’t so dehydrated.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She didn’t reply, but he didn’t expect her to. All that mattered was that she didn’t try to get out of his embrace. She let him hold her for a few more seconds before he figured not to push it much longer. It had been a long time since she wasn’t enveloped by him and she probably needed some space.

His instincts were right. She requested alone time in the garden. Fresh air and all that. It was an exercise in trust as well. Not once, in the last month, had she been allowed outside unsupervised, lest she flee.

—

The sun was low in the sky and the morning air was crisp. After 12 hours in a bruised and bloody stomach, the garden was the perfect place to unwind. The kind greens and browns of the orchard, the bright and elegant magical roses and daffodils were a sight for sore eyes. The crisp morning air carrying the sweet or sharp aromas of all the fresh blossoms (most noticeable: the King’s Lavender and Drunken Lilies), blessings on a weary nose.

A cool breeze caressed the exposed skin of her arms and face, washing away the lingering memories of stifling warmth. She stood in the center of the garden, as much space as possible on all sides, held her arms out, and slowly spun around. Faster and faster until she fell down onto the path. Hard, cool, stones. Exactly what she needed. Ahhhhhhhh. She rolled next to a large flowerbed. She could lie here forever.

A young sunflower leaned over to check on her.

The soft petals tickled her nose and she sneezed. Satisfied that she wasn’t broken, the flower straightened out. But the shadow didn’t go alway.

Her carefree attitude evaporated as she looked up at the giant. Except he had shrunken down again so he was simply a freakishly large man. He was freshly cleaned up, judging by the sheen of his hair and the sharpness of his goatee. He’d also changed from the nightgown into unusually simple clothing. She closed her eyes.

“I figured you want some space, but-”

“You would be correct.”

Even with her eyes closed, she could tell he was still there. Maybe if she ignored him, he would leave her be.

“I brought sparkling cider. It’s cold.”

Opening one eye, she saw the sheepish wizard holding a tray with a frosted pitcher and two glasses. She knew the juice was made from apples grown in his garden, which he planted in a specific pattern to capture extra magic from the soil.

“I accept this offering.”

He sat down next to her and passed her a cup, filling it up with juice that might as well be worth its weight in gold. It fizzed with friendliness. Just at the first sip, the sharp sweetness washed away felt more of the last 12 hours of sweltering terror.

“I thought you would get coffee. Or breakfast.” She knew he hadn’t properly eaten since yesterday morning, so he must be starving. She should as well… only she wasn’t. Not because she didn’t want to think about food, but she had been glass since just after dinner. According to her body, almost no time had passed.

Yonah had been mid sip and was not expecting her to speak to him. He took a deep breath.

“I’m going to be on a clear liquid diet for at least a week.” He grimaced as he thought about all that juice and broth. “The healing potion can only do so much. Most of its power was used to remove the EverBleeding Curse”

“Does that mean you can’t eat me?”

“Heh. No… the glass form cannot aggravate the injury. Not unless you tried.” He was about to smile but decided against it, as Sophia looked like she wanted to excuse herself if she could only think of a polite way to do so. “But I think a week break from that is in order as well. Unless you want it to be longer. Or never again. I’m perfectly content eating adventurers.”

Sophia still wasn’t looking at him, but she was no longer one shock away from bolting from his side. Evil he may be, but she could tell he was being truthful. It was certainly something to consider.

“Just so you know. Eating me won’t work as punishment anymore.”

No. He didn’t think so. It had been fun while it lasted, though it was losing its novelty ever since he started to grow fond of the princess. In fact her distress was getting rather sour.

Then she looked at him. “And I’m holding you to that week!” She poked him hard in his tender midsection. “If I end up in your stomach again within that time I’ll purposefully re-open the wound! And if it’s gone, I’ll make a new one!”

Yonah allowed himself to smile at the implications and permissions hidden in that statement.

Best they didn’t remain so.

“I want to be clear, and I’ll ask again in a week in case you change your mind: it is fine if I… occasionally… eat you?” It was very weird to ask it so plainly. This wasn’t exactly the first time, but this situation was definitely novel.

It took a minute for Sophia to answer. She looked away and sipped at her juice, only once glancing up at him before gazing back at the garden.

So well kept. Each plant with its own needs, magical or not, and all maintained by Yonah. From the sturdy sunflowers to the delicate dahlias. The lovely yet finicky ruby rose bushes to the more testy fire breathing snap-dragons. She wanted to learn how to take care of all of them! After only a few visits, she already felt more at peace, more in the right place, in this garden than anywhere else.

Considering how wrong she felt in Yonah’s stomach and having taken considerably more trips there…

And yet… with all things considered, there wasn’t any harm in it. She just didn’t want to rely on him being conscious to recast her curse in an emergency. She didn’t like being eaten. She didn’t think she ever would. Or should! But, over time, she could probably come to not mind it.

“Tell you what,” she looked up, “that one week, plus the time it takes for me to master activating the curse. —Uhupup!”

He had been about to say something.

She stood up so that she was looking down at him with her best stern diplomat face.

“That means if I learn it in three days from now, three days are added to the week!” Naw, that wasn’t good enough, “Strike that! These days are added to the time it takes for you to heal, with a minimum week of heal time!”

Yonah thought that very sensible! He had been planning to teach her that ASAP.

“After that, ask again, and I’ll consider allowing it.” She held out a hand. “Do we have an accord?”

And he shook it.

She sat back down, waving her now empty cup at him to fill it back up, before leaning against his side, the warmth nice in contrast to the cool breeze. Soft on the outside too, and not nearly as scary. Even though he had been charged with her protection, for the first time since she arrived, she felt safe, truly safe, around Yonah.

For the first time, she wanted to be here, and he wanted her to be there with him.

Things were going to work out after all.

[FIN] if you liked PLEASE REBLOG

I SPENT SO LONG ON THIS! PLEASE SPREAD IT IM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

[hiddendreamer67]

Thrash All You Want

Summary: Logan decides to investigate the giant addition to their lab, but according to this giant it’s not the one who should be worried.

Check out more of my writing @hiddendreamerwriting! 

“What is it?” Virgil asked, peering through the observation glass. It muffled their voices, but even through the thick glass the sounds of the monster crashing into the cage walls rumbled through the room.

“A giant.” Logan said simply, still typing away at his tablet.

“I got that far, Sherlock.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “But what’s with the cat tail? And why the hell is it here? Isn’t this dangerous?”

“Only if it escapes.” Logan shrugged nonchalantly. “But it can thrash all it wants and never escape that cage. Those bars are made of solid tungsten.”

“Then…” Virgil swallowed. “Why are they bending?”

Logan’s head snapped up, examining the containment chamber. Though the giant was still panting from throwing itself against the wall, it seemed to be calming down. The actual bars were not bent, despite Virgil’s claims. Logan turned to his assistant with a frown, now noting the small smirk on Virgil’s face.

“This is serious, Virgil.” Logan shoved his tablet into Virgil’s arms. “I will have no banter from this point onwards.”

“I get it, I’ll be on my toes.” Virgil assured him, his face mellowing out.

“What? Why would you need to practice your balance?” Logan looked confused. “I meant to stay alert.”

“That’s what that means- ah, never mind.” Virgil decided not to explain, watching his professor heading down the stairs. “Hey, Logan, where are you going?”

“To question it, now that its behaviors have subsided.” Logan answered.

“What?” Frantic footsteps began to follow him down the winding staircase, clanking against the metal two at a time. Virgil rushed to stop the scientist, sliding in front of him. “Are you insane?”

“My last psychological evaluation came back indicating no anomalies.” Logan assured him.

“That’s a giant.” Virgil pressed, Logan pushing past him and moving down the hall. Virgil followed, hot on his heels. “You know, fe fi fo fum? I like to eat humans for breakfast?”

“I certainly hope you’ll educate yourself on giants with more literature than mere children’s fantasies.” Logan scoffed. He stopped in front of the door, sporting at least a dozen warning labels. Logan put his badge to the touch pad, watching the light turn green in recognition. “I will be cautious. You stay here, and continue researching just what this creature could be.” Without hearing another of Virgil’s protests, Logan walked onto the containment floor.

Logan, despite his brave attitude around his assistant, was feeling a strange urge of hesitation. The room was poorly lit, the ceilings too high for hanging bulbs to do any good. Instead a few strands ran along the walls, and a few dull lights lined a pathway leading up to the cage itself.

Logan walked forwards, his footsteps echoing metallically throughout the large chamber. It caught the beast’s attention, who turned to watch Logan intently. At least it wasn’t yelling or throwing a fit like the scientist would expect; Logan doubted his ears could handle such a decibel.

“You seem rather calm for your position.” When the giant spoke, his words surprised Logan. He stopped, still a distance away from the cage.

“Why would I not be?” Logan asked. “I am not the one behind bars.”

“For now.” The giant looked almost bored now, inspecting its claws.

“Those are solid tungsten.” Logan informed him. “They cannot be bent through sheer force.”

“Oh, I don’t expect to bend them.” The giant smirked, looking down at Logan with an expression of someone who knew they were about to win chess several moves before their inevitable victory. “You’ll be releasing me.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg.” The giant shifted, laying down on his stomach and staring at Logan with a teasing grin. Behind him, his large feline-esque tail swaying back and forth in an almost apathetic manner.

“Why would I release you?” Logan said, now curious what could possibly be this giant’s line of thought.

“I don’t know.” The giant gave a fake yawn, showing off his fangs. “Perhaps you should release me and find out.”

Surely, he was just toying with Logan, trying to show off in an attempt to intimidate him. The idea of setting this monster loose on the facility was an absolutely terrifying proposition, and yet despite himself Logan did hold a seed of curiosity about why he would ever perform such a maneuver.

“We’re getting off track.” Logan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“There’s many tracks of the mind.” The giant purred. “How can you be sure your own is properly aligned?”

“I didn’t come here for a psychology examination.” Logan murmured, but he found his mind growing muddled. Why did he come here again?

“I’m having trouble hearing you, pet.” The giant beckoned with a claw. “Come closer.”

Logan obliged, stepping a few strides closer. “What exactly are you?” Logan asked, taking in the details. Though almost humanoid, there was a catlike appearance to the creature as well. The claws, the tail, the fangs. Even a pair of furry ears sat hidden in the giant’s hair, twitching every so often. Logan wondered how powerful such a pair of audio receptors had to be- could they pick up noise throughout the building?

“I am what I am, pick a better question.” The giant raised an eyebrow. “After all, you only have so much time.”

“I’m not limited on time.” Logan corrected. “My schedule has been cleared for the day.”

“Oh, good.” This time the grin was more sinister, and Logan had the faintest sensation he should feel concerned. Why was he not concerned? “But your voice is still so quiet…come a bit closer.”

“Here is a better question, then.” Logan suggested, stepping closer. “What are your dietary restrictions?”

“No, no.” The giant shook his head sadly, clicking his tongue. “Still so boring. I truly expected better from you, Logan.”

Logan paused, his hands beginning to feel clammy. “…how do you know my name?”

“Ah, now that’s a fun question, isn’t it?” The giant perked up, leaning forwards on his elbows.

Logan glanced down at himself, wondering if perhaps his patch had given him away. But no- Logan had left the embroidered lab coat back in the observatory.

“I bet you’re just dying to know.” The feline crooned. “How did he do it, exactly? Did you introduce yourself but forget? Is it written somewhere along the walls? Am I in your mind, perhaps?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Logan said softly, still examining their surroundings.

“Oooh, but it does.” The giant moved closer, grabbing the bars. “I can see it in your little features. It’s eating you alive. The curiosity is going to drive you mad.”

“Fine then, tell me.” Logan snapped, turning back to the prisoner. The giant raised a claw, pointing it through the bars at the little control panel.

“Let go of me first.” The giant whispered.

Logan paused. That was something he wasn’t supposed to do, he remembered that much. But then again, this giant was so well behaved, perhaps he could make an exception.

“NO!” A yell at the door shocked them both, the entrance slamming open as Virgil came sprinting in, industrial headphones on. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Logan wasn’t sure to which individual Virgil was implying, but either way the giant gave a guttural growl, all pretense of kindness gone. One clawed hand swooped through the bars, making a grab at Logan and only failing because Virgil tackled him to the ground. Quickly Virgil grabbed him by the arm, dragging Logan to his feet and yanking him out of the giant’s reach.

Well, the giant certainly didn’t like that. It roared, and Logan clutched his hands desperately to his ears, fearing he would go deaf from the chaotic threats bouncing off the metal walls. Now he understood why Virgil had worn headphones as the assistant pulled him out of the chamber, frantically shoving the door closed to muffle some of the sound.

The two stood, panting, trying to regain composure after what had just happened. Virgil lowered his headphones, guiding Logan back through the winding paths to one of the many offices. Logan gradually felt the ringing in his ears subside, though his heart continued to race from that scare.

“You can let go of me, Virgil.” Logan finally said, feeling steady on his feet.

“Oh, I’ll let you go in a minute, I just have too many questions.” Virgil’s gaze was hard set straight ahead, but his grip tightened painfully around Logan’s forearm. “Namely, what the hell?”

“What the hell?” Logan repeated, confused.

“Yeah, what. The. Hell.” Virgil emphasized each word, shoving Logan into one of the armchairs waiting behind Logan’s desk. “Since when are you all about running in guns blazing?”

“It was supposed to be an initial investigation.” Logan defended himself.

“Without proper research?” Virgil shoved the tablet from the desk in Logan’s direction, showing what he had discovered. “What kind of scientist are you?”

Logan glanced over the screen, paling as he read the article. It was a depiction of a creature not unlike the one in the cage, described as a mythical half-giant, half-feline famous for manipulation of the subconscious.

“…mind control.” Logan realized. “I-but-how-?”

“Do you realize you nearly set that thing loose?” Virgil reprimanded him. “Don’t play dumb with me, I saw the way you were considering it. That thing had you wrapped around it’s little finger.”

“I was just curious.” Logan protested weakly, feeling like a scolded child. He supposed the image was fitting.

“Yeah, well, curiosity killed the cat.” Virgil scoffed. “Or in this case, the cat nearly killed the curious scientist and also his much wiser assistant. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, Logan.”

[screaming-who-could-stay]

"Lover" relatable lyrics:

"I forgot" -IFTYE

"We're not trying" "I'm drunk" "I cried" -Cruel Summer

"Can I go?" -Lover

"I'm so sick" "What's it like to brag" -The Man

"I don't want that" -The Archer

"Stop" "I understand" "I got that" -ITHK

"I like shiny things" "Uh huh, that's right" -Paper Rings

"Listen" -Cornelia Street

"I get drunk but it's not enough" "I don't know" "My wine" -DBATC

"You can find me in the pub" -London Boy

*we skip SYGB in this house*

"We were crazy" "We were stupid" "Hell" -False God

"Damn" -YNTCD

"I'm the one" "But no" "It's not what I meant" -Afterglow

"SPELELING IS FUM" -ME!

"Stressed out lately" "Sleeping" "Sounds like fun" -INTHAF

"Unlucky" -Daylight

[britishchick09]

The Chicken Calamity: A Wadlow Sibling Fan-Fic (part 1/2)

the fics are back and crazier than ever! this fic took a week to write (june 8th to 16th) and i’ve had the idea in my head for a while. it's even better than the original idea! :D

senpai and the sibs go to take care of a chicken. what could possibly go wrong?

“What does everyone want to do this summer?” Robert Wadlow asked his siblings as they sat in the living room.

“Stay like this forever.” Eugene replied.

“That would be nice, but we need to do something more than just that.”

“We could start up the stand again.” Helen suggested.

“Something besides that. The stand’s a must.”

Before Betty and Harold Jr. could think of something, the phone rang.

Betty hopped up with a smile. “I’ll get it!”

She ran over to the phone and picked it up.

“Hello? Yes, he’s here,” Betty took the mouthpiece away from the phone. “Robert, it’s for you!”

Robert went over to the phone and Betty gave it to him. “Um... hello?”

“Hello, Robert.” a familiar voice replied.

Robert smiled. “Mrs. Lancaster! How have you been?”

“Pretty good. I was wondering... Would you like to help with a play?”

“Sure. Can my siblings come, too?” “Of course they can!”

“Alright. I’ll ask them,” Robert lowered the phone and asked the siblings, “Would you all be interested in helping out in a play?”

“Sure!” Betty replied.

“What kind of a play is it?” Helen asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Robert held the phone up. “What kind of a play is it?”

“A fun one.” was all Mrs. Lancaster said.

Robert told Helen, “She said it’s a fun one.”

“Then I guess I’ll do it.” Helen replied.

“Do you want to do the play, Eugene?”

“No,” Eugene said. “I’m busy.”

“With what?”

“Staying like this forever.”

Robert rolled his eyes and told Mrs. Lancaster, “They’d like to do it.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mrs. Lancaster exclaimed happily. “Stop by the school this afternoon, alright?”

“I will.”

“You’re such a dear. Goodbye, Robert.”

“Bye, Mrs Lancaster.”

Robert hung up the phone and went back to his chair.

“Why does your face look a little pink?” Helen wanted to know.

Robert smiled, his ears also turning pink. “She called me ‘dear’.”

“‘Deer’?” Harold Jr. echoed. “But you don’t look like a deer!”

“She meant ‘dear’ as in ‘dearest’.”

“Or ‘dear diary’!” Betty added.

Eugene sighed. “Or ‘oh dear, what have you guys gotten into?’”

…

A couple hours later, Robert, Helen, Betty and Harold Jr. went to the school.

“There it is,” Robert announced once they arrived. “‘Lancaster School of Expression’! Gosh, I haven’t heard that name in over a year. And the last time I said it was four years ago!”

“That’s a long time ago.” Harold Jr. commented.

“It sure is, isn’t it?” Robert replied with a chuckle.

He helped Harold Jr. climb the few stairs of the building and they all went inside.

Mrs. Lancaster was directing a couple students on the stage as Robert and the siblings arrived. She noticed them out of the corner of her eyes and smiled as she went down the stage steps.

“Robert!” she greeted Robert happily. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“Hello, Mrs. Lancaster. It’s wonderful to see you again, too,” Robert replied politely. “I brought my siblings with me. ...Well, most of them.”

“I see,” Mrs. Lancaster nodded in approval. “Remind me, who are they again?”

“Oh, um, this is my younger sister Helen, this is my little sister Betty and that is my baby brother, Harold Jr.”

“Hello!” Harold Jr. said with a smile.

Mrs. Lancaster smiled back. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“He never went to any of the performances,” Helen explained. “He always fussed a lot back then.”

“You mean like you?” Robert teasingly told her.

Helen squinted at her big brother as Betty said, “I remember the first ever reading Robert ever did. It was with the farmer, wasn’t it?”

Mrs. Lancaster nodded. “He was wonderful, wasn’t he?”

Robert blushed. “It was good for a first try.”

“And you’ve been marvelous ever since,” Mrs. Lancaster replied with a smile. “Speaking of a farmer, we’d better go backstage,” She noticed the siblings’ confused looks and added, “I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re there.”

As they walked onstage, Mrs. Lancaster said, “You said you brought most of your siblings. Who’s missing?”

“Oh, it’s just Eugene,” Robert replied. “He didn’t want to come.”

“Why not?”

“He just wanted to stay home and lounge around,” Helen said. “He calls it ‘staying there forever’, but I call it ‘staying there and being lazy’.”

“I’m sure he’ll arrive eventually. He might be a great help.”

Robert and the siblings looked at each other, knowing Eugene would lounge around no matter where he went.

“Before we go backstage...” Mrs. Lancaster looked up at Robert. “Would you like a role in the play? It’s ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’. You could be the giant. I know you've played the part once before-”

“No, thank you,” Robert replied with a shake of his head. “I wouldn’t want to say that ol’ ‘fee-fi-fo-fum’ thing again. What could be worse than that?”

Mrs. Lancaster frowned. “Alright then. If you want the role, just ask me. It might be better.”

She opened the curtain and they went backstage.

“What’s that in the corner?” Betty asked after their eyes had adjusted to the dim light.

“I’ll show you,” Mrs. Lancaster replied, her voice almost at a whisper. “You must be quiet back here.”

“Why?” Harold Jr. asked in a not quiet voice.

“Shh. He’s sleeping.”

“Who?” Harold Jr. asked again, changing his voice to a whisper.

They arrived at the corner and saw something lying in an old crate.

“It’s a... chicken?” Helen frowned in confusion.

“You remember the story, right?” Robert asked. “There’s a chicken with gold eggs or something.”

“How did that happen?” Harold Jr. wanted to know.

“Don’t ask.”

“His name is Mike,” Mrs. Lancaster explained. “He can get rather... um... bold at times, so your job is to make sure he’s calm in time for the play.”

“Does he have stage fright?” Betty asked. “Robert knows what that’s like.”

Robert nodded. “I wouldn’t be much help, though. I still haven’t fully gotten over it.”

“That’s quite alright. You did amazing in the readings despite that,” Mrs. Lancaster reassured him with a kind smile. “Mike has more than just stage fright. He... well... I’m sure you’ll see once he wakes up.”

Helen frowned as she asked, “Can’t you get another chicken? One that’s less bold?”

“Oh, I tried finding one. That’s how I ended up with Mike. Apparently, Alton doesn’t have much in the way of chickens.”

“You could’ve just brought Eugene over.” Helen said.

Robert squinted at his sister as he gave her a gentle, yet playful, shove.

“You have to admit it’s a clever joke.”

“I guess it was, but it’s still mean. You better not let Eugene hear that.”

“I’ll tell him when we get home!” Betty said before seeing Robert’s squint. “...Or I’ll just tell myself.”

Just then, someone from the stage poked their head through the curtain.

“Mrs. Lancaster, Cindy forgot her lines again.”

“I’ll be right there, Josh,” Mrs. Lancaster told him before telling the siblings, “Just make sure to keep Mike calm, alright? I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“We know we will!” Betty said confidently. “Robert’s really great at taking care of Harold Jr, so he can help us out.”

Mrs. Lancaster smiled. “Well, good luck.” she said before leaving.

Robert watched her go and looked down at the chicken, who was sleeping peacefully. “If we just stay here quietly, we won’t have to take care of him.”

“But that’s boring!” Harold Jr. exclaimed. “I wanna have fun!”

“Shh! He might wake-”

Just then, a strange noise came from the crate.

[aion-rsa]

Taskmaster: the Cult British Comedy Show Coming to Save America

https://ift.tt/33bdDVi

Gloom has several remedies. Jogging, alcohol and the excessive consumption of Kit-Kats each have their merits. There’s a fast-acting fix though that, unlike the other three, is highly unlikely to end in vomiting. Its name is Taskmaster and it is the UK’s happy place. 

Since 2015, Taskmaster has aired nine series and one special in the UK, growing from a cult delight on digital channel Dave to a Bafta-nominated, millions-attracting hit about to make its debut this autumn on major broadcaster Channel 4. 

But all that’s just numbers. In real life, Taskmaster has done much, much more. Ask anyone who loves it and they’ll tell you. This unimprovably silly show in which comedians complete a series of absurd tasks, and then get together to watch the results, be judged, and laugh at themselves, is a holiday from strife. It’s an open window on a suffocating day, and a blessed reminder that whatever else may be going on in the world, people are funny and inventive and magnificently willing to do stupid things to make each other laugh. As the Cheers theme song says, sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. Sometimes though, you want to go where Bob Mortimer is demonstrating his patented sausage and pork pie presentation unit and a woman from Bridget Jones’ Diary is inserting slices of cake into a scared man’s armpit. 

When a Taskmaster line-up is announced (there are five new comedians each series, giving the show a 50-strong back catalogue of established and rising names in UK comedy), the response isn’t just positive, it’s thank-God-can-we-have-it-now-please grateful. That’s because fans know a new series means a precious 10 hours off. Off work and off worry and off having to think about anything other than whether a man is going to successfully hit a Babybel across a football field with a snooker cue. (He isn’t.) A new series of Taskmaster is respite. It means being among friends and being kept company by inane joy. Great if you’re bored, a lifeline if you’re grieving, struggling to find common ground with your kids, or just struggling full stop.

Comedian and writer Greg Davies plays the titular Taskmaster, a sort of fee-fi-fo-fum giant whose relentless demands for contestants to fill an egg-cup with tears or paint a picture of a horse while riding a horse give the show its premise. Davies judges the comedians’ performances, awarding points that go into a league table and determine the overall winner. His sidekick is series creator Alex Horne, the task umpire who accompanies contestants through their wildly inventive/pitiful endeavours. 

In the US, The CW is starting with series eight and nine, on the understanding that if the American viewing public take to the show, they’ll also buy in the previous series. ‘If they do air the rest,’ Greg Davies tells Den of Geek, ‘Alex and I will be getting younger as it progresses, giving it a sort of Benjamin Button-type twist.’ 

‘The props will be getting cheaper and the Taskmaster house will get stripped down,’ says Horne. The house is the backdrop to most of the tasks and the site of the famous-among-fans shed and caravan. ‘Guess how much the caravan cost,’ Horne challenges Den of Geek. £500? ‘£200. It’s fully plumbed.’

Read more

TV

New Taskmaster Now Filming: How Covid-19 Will Change Series 10

By Louisa Mellor

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Taskmaster: the top 11 tasks so far

By Louisa Mellor

There was, briefly, a 2017 American remake on Comedy Central but it failed in one key area: time. Cut in half to just 30 minutes an episode, there were fewer tasks and crucially, much less space given to the comedians reacting to their own and others’ performances. A major joy of Taskmaster is the interaction between the five contestants. The comedians are asked not to discuss the tasks – most of which they complete solo – until the studio record, making it the first time they find out how well (or otherwise) they’ve done. The laughs almost all come from the clash between expectation and reality, from the camaraderie and competitive rivalry. 

‘Something that I think American viewers should know is how much people want to win the show,’ says Davies. One early task was to buy the Taskmaster a gift for £20. ‘I had some great things bought for me. Someone bought me a title, so I’m a lord now, and someone genuinely had their foot tattooed with my name. That people would actually have their body tattooed for life in order to get points on this show… It seems on the surface to be a frivolous gameshow but it’s life and death for these people.’ 

The series eight contestants US viewers are going to meet first up are a strong mix of personalities. There’s actor-writer Joe Thomas, a former co-star of Davies in British comedy series The Inbetweeners. ‘He’s quite well-known because The Inbetweeners was an enormous hit in this country,’ says Greg. There’s Paul Sinha from UK gameshow The Chase,‘a former GP, a gay, Asian quiz champion who we’ve since discovered has got Parkinson’s Disease, so he’s got a lot going on,’ says Horne when asked to describe the line-up. ‘He’s very nice and funny,’ says Davies. ‘But very bad at the tasks,’ adds Horne, ‘possibly our worst contestant.’ There’s Car Share’s Sian Gibson, ‘a very good actress and writer and nice person from Wales,’ says Horne. There’s comedian Iain Stirling, the voice of huge UK reality show Love Island, described by Davies and Horne as ‘Scottish, nice, funny and like a puppy.’ Finally there’s stand-up Lou Sanders, ‘a scatty British comedian on the rise,’ says Horne. ‘She’s quite a unique voice,’ adds Davies. ‘She believes in angels.’ 

Davies calls Taskmaster a joy to be part of and hopes it’s also joyful to watch. ‘Even though I’m horrible to a lot of people on the face of things, it’s meant to be an inclusive show where people can forget about the more troubling things and just be silly with us for a while. I hope that some of that joy makes it over the pond.’

Some of that joy made the journey earlier this year. During UK lockdown, the Taskmaster team introduced Hometasking, which expanded the task-setting premise to the general public. For weeks while UK schools were closed and businesses had put their staff on furlough, the team set tasks online, giving people fun activities to occupy them in a a worrying time. They received record entries from around the world – over a third from North America. If you had 17 minutes downtime, you could do worse than watch this final results video to see just what it meant to those who took part. 

The effort devoted to tomfoolery is perhaps what’s most cheering about Taskmaster. Over its many series, teams of people have devised literally hundreds of challenges the sole goal of which is silliness. They’ve debated the comedic merits of throwing a potato into a golf hole and making a Swedish person blush. They’ve considered the practical implications of one comedian wheeling another around inside a bin or driving a golf buggy blindfolded. The risk assessments must be as thick as telephone directories. And they’ve gone to these lengths purely in the interest of good cheer. 

Horne hopes that Taskmaster will be embraced in America the way it has been in the UK. ‘It’s a cult-y show here, but a family cult-y show. It’s not too niche, but the people who like it really like it. If that could happen in America, people to really get into it when they discover it, rather than it being a mild curiosity, that’s what I’d love.’

Is Horne worried that the peculiarly British quirks of some tasks might not translate to the US? ‘I’m starting to,’ he tells Den of Geek. Will Americans embrace, or be confounded by, Taskmaster’s distinctive Britishisms? Surely the former, but just in case, here’s a bit of context for our American friends on a few UK-specific task items.

Greg and Alex, over to you.

Taskmaster explains: Marmite

Series 5, Episode 4 Task: Make the best Marmite

Greg Davies: Marmite is a yeast-based spread that you might put on toast. It’s been around since the 1940s, certainly since the war, maybe even before. And for many decades, Marmite has prided itself on its advertising campaign which consistently has been ‘Marmite: You’ll either love it or hate it’ but it’s not true. It’s a lie, at least a 45-year-old lie, because I for one am indifferent to Marmite. I certainly don’t mind it being put on my toast but I wouldn’t ever ask for it. So, the truth of the advertising campaign should be ‘Marmite: You’ll love it or you’ll hate it, and some of you will be absolutely ambivalent to it.’

Taskmaster explains: Christmas Crackers

Series 7, Episode 7: Make the best Christmas cracker

Greg Davies: I can honestly say in all my years on this planet, I have not once enjoyed pulling a Christmas cracker. I think America is leading the way and it’s something we should get rid of. Pulling an explosive tube of cardboard to reveal an awful gift is something this country can do without.

Alex Horne: They are a poor tradition. I have never enjoyed a Christmas cracker. As a dad, we’re just giving children choking hazards at Christmas. They get so excited about the thought of pulling them and then it always ruins the day.

Greg Davies: My mum was a skinflint at Christmas so a typical cracker gift would be a small tape measure.

Alex Horne: A little pack of cards was always a highlight.

Greg Davies: That’s high-end. 

Taskmaster explains: Egg Cups

Series 1, Episode 4: Fill an egg cup with tears

Alex Horne: Really? Americans don’t use egg cups? How do they keep their eggs upright? You’d have to chase it around the plate.

Greg Davies: But that means they can’t have soft-boiled eggs? What do they do, hold it in their hands? What do they hold an egg in?! That makes no sense at all. It’s a staple of British crockery!

Alex Horne: An egg cup must be a really peculiarly British thing. We use it as a measuring device because it’s a satisfying item. It’s probably 20 ml or fluid ounces. There must be something they use. It’s probably a shot glass isn’t it? That’s an equivalent.

Greg Davies: A shot glass! Which I do use as an egg cup actually.

Alex Horne: I go the other way around. 

Taskmaster explains: Traffic wardens

Series 7, Episode 5: Cheer up this former traffic warden

Alex Horne: They enforce parking restrictions and I guess they’re a sort of jobsworth position, someone who thinks they’ve got a lot of power but doesn’t, and is a constant irritant to the motorist.

Greg Davies: But a saviour for the children.

Alex Horne: Do you mean lollipop ladies?

Greg Davies: I do mean lollipop ladies. I try to be kind to traffic wardens even when I’ve been ticketed because I just think it must be an awful job having that many confrontations a day so I try not to get cross.

Alex Horne: And lollipop ladies?

Greg Davies: I’m furious with them.

Alex Horne: You’d be a lovely lollipop lady, Greg.

Greg Davies: Well I’m sure that’s where I’m headed.

Taskmaster explains: Squirty Cream

Series 6, Episode 4: Make the best art using the entire contents of this can of squirty cream

Alex Horne: Squirty cream is a staple of every British fridge. You spray it straight into your mouth. It’s made of, I think, plastic and no dairy products, and we’re not allowed to show people spraying it directly into their mouth on British TV anymore because of health and safety.

Greg Davies: I’ve got three tins of it in my fridge and every day over lockdown I treated myself to a squirt. Whenever I needed a lift.

Taskmaster explains: aubergines

Series 9, Episode 1: Hide three aubergines from Alex in this room

Greg Davies: There’s a name for it over there. It’s a purple vegetable and I for one would move for us to just get rid of those off the face of the earth. What do they call it over there?

Alex Horne: I’m enjoying this, seeing him scrabble around.

Greg Davies: What does it begin with, the American one?

Alex Horne: It rhymes with your name.

Greg Davies: Greg?

Alex Horne: Yeah. Well, not the whole thing. If your name was Greg Slant, it would rhyme with that.

Greg Davies: My name isn’t Greg Slant though.

There you go, America, hopefully that should now all be crystal clear. Tune in to Taskmaster series 8 in the US at 8pm ET/PT on The CW from Sunday the 2nd of August. Seriously, do, it’s good for what ails you.

The post Taskmaster: the Cult British Comedy Show Coming to Save America appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3gh2CFK

[bexcsx]

more than words   ✗Bex,Rocco&Lake ✗

Rocco: As promised earlier on during the day as the sun began to set Rocco made his way down to the bar area to meet his best friend, Remus had met a cute blonde during the day and was apparently hooked on Greys anatomy so there was no way he had to worry about seeing him for a while and instead could focus on Lake. Having been a member for so long now as soon as he was in the room a drink was slid his way and he fell into easy conversation with the bar tender. "..Yea man I'm married." Rocco grinned as he showed of his ring before the bar tender nodded over his head. "This the lucky man? He teased as Rocco looked back to see Lake arriving. "Oh he wishes, but no Lake here is my best bud and tonight I'm going to set him up."

Lake: Lake walked downstairs to the bar, dreading hanging out with his best friend tonight. He of course loved spending time with him, but he had a feeling that Rocco would try and find him someone at the bar tonight which was the last thing Lake wanted. But he also knew it would be suspicious to act put off by it. When he heard the bartender ask if he was the lucky man, Lachlan wrapped his arms around Rocco's waist from behind and kissed his cheek, "He sure is lucky," he joked before pulling away and standing next to him, rolling his eyes as he said that he was going to set him up tonight, "I can get girls on my own, thank you very much."

Bex: After taking a night swim with a couple of her girlfriends, Bex saw Rocco and Lake from the corner of her eye as she was coming back to the resort; deciding to make a quick detour and say hi. She was still wearing her bikini, but had a rather see-through shirt over it when she waltzed her way towards the two guys, placing her one arm around her brother, and one around his best friend. "Hey dorks, what's up?" she beamed.

Rocco: Felling Lake wrap his arms around him Rocco smirked and lent back a second. "For a starters he is no where near tall enough and he isn't as gorgeous." Rocco taunted him back with a scoff. "You can't get your own girl for shit or you would have done it already..."He trailed off as he felt another arm wound around him. "Well hey to you to." Rocco beamed at his sister leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I am going to set Mr Lachlan here up on a date tonight."

Lake: "Damn, make me insecure, why don't you?" he replied as he ordered a drink from the bar. Lachlan just shook his head at his friend's words, wanting nothing more than to tell him that he already had his own girl. "Hey you," he smiled down at Bex as she wrapped her arm around them. He tried to give Bex a look when Rocco said that he was setting him up, hoping the Bex trusted him enough that he wouldn't let anything happen.

Bex: At the mention of setting Lake up with somebody, Bex's smile somewhat faltered whenever she wanted it or not; letting out a small laugh. "Set him up? What is he like, sixteen or something?" she asked, looking over at him as he shot her a look; her jaw slightly clenching, clearly showcasing that she /wasn't/ fond of the idea.

Rocco: "Don't worry you're a little pretty." Rocco assured him before he sipped on his own drink, raising his brow at his sisters response slightly as she turned to look at his best friend. "Well no - but he is on summer vacation now and no doubt you'll be busy causing trouble and I'm going to have Remus and I just want him to have some fun."

Lake: "I'm a lot pretty," he glared at him before the bartender brought over his drink and he took a large sip of it, unable to handle this conversation at the moment. "I don't need a hook up to have fun, you know? I'm not sixteen. I have other ways to preoccupy my time," he joked.

Bex: "Exactly." Bex was quick to agree with Lake, averting her gaze from him and back onto her brother, giving him a quick nod - and somehow hoping the subject would be put to rest. Of course, it wasn't. "- besides, where is this imaginary woman you'd set him up with? There's no one here that is worth his time." she continued on, letting out another chuckle, and hoping she was sounding as playfully as she tried to be.

Rocco: Maybe it was the fact they had both spent so long denying him when he wanted them to be together that he was some how missing the signs that were currently right in front of him. "Maybe I just want every one to find the one and be happy as I am. Also - I was thinking Maria, you know the girl who comes to family parties too sometimes, she's quiet, nice, she probably just needs a guy like Lake to bring her out of her shell."

Lake: "A guy like me?" he asked raising an eyebrow. "What kind of guy am I exactly?" he asked, trying to bring the subject away from Maria, not wanting to make Bex anymore uncomfortable and not wanting to have to continue to stay in the awkward conversation.

Bex: Ignoring the subject altogether was something she should've done without a doubt, but couldn't - especially when the name was being mentioned. "Maria?" she repeated, her brows knitting for a moment as she briefly took a glance over at Lake as he spoke, before it went back on her brother; only to notice the said-woman sitting a few tables away with her friends. "- /that/ Maria?" she asked, raising her finger to point in her direction.

Rocco: "Yea, a nice guy you know, I mean I know I'm one of the rich guys here but a lot of them are assholes." Rocco shrugged as he sipped on his drink again before he followed his sisters gaze to the small rather pretty blonde girl. "Yeap that one, she was your friend last year right? Maybe you could get her to come over?"

Lake: "That is true," he nodded his head, agreeing with his friend there. He followed both of their gazes over to a group of girls. "No, Bex. You really don't have to do that. Let's just drink, have fun, you know, no pressure here," he said feeling more and more awkward as the time went on.

Bex: Bex gulped at the idea; for a moment remaining tongue-tied over the matter of her going over to set him up. She didn't know her way out of it; rather than lie. "She's not my friend anymore." Bex told her brother, hoping it would mean she wouldn't have to go over, that /nobody/ would have to go over.

Rocco: "Oh okay." Rocco nodded, truth be told that was enough for him and meant Maria was off of the list, if Bex didn't like her then for whatever reason neither did Rocco but that didn't mean he was going to give up. "Oh I've got it! Rachel! Yes I heard she's single this year and way up for some fun."

Lake: Lake looked back to the bartender, requesting a shot. As soon as it was brought to him, he downed it quickly before turning back to them. "Alright, who is she?" he asked, knowing that Rocco wasn't going to back off until he gave in to the idea of meeting someone. No matter how much he didn't want to, he had to play along to get him to stop. He could only hope that Bex understood and he looked over at her guilty, wanting her to know he wasn't actually going to act on anything.

Bex: Biting on the inside of her cheek, Bex gave the whole situation a small shrug, acting completely indifferent when in reality she was slowly started to boil inside. "Whatever. I need a drink," she announced, walking away from them only a couple of steps to lean against the bar, requesting a strong coctail.

Rocco: As soon as his bestfriend agreed Rocco gave a small fist pump and looked around the bar before he spotted her in a white dress with her own group of friends. "There she is and she won't stop looking your way man, get in there." Rocco beamed slapping him on the shoulder before he called after Bex. "I could have gotten that for you>"

Lake: "Told you I'm pretty," he joked as he smiled back at Rocco. "I'm not going over there by myself, that's weird. She's with her friends. I'm sure if she was really that interested, she would come over here."

Bex: Bex waved off her brother's comment, flashing him a quick smile to showcase she was fine by the bar alone, grabbing her drink and instantly taking a few sips from the straw; taking out her phone in the process. She pretended like she was doing something meaningful on there; like texting, when in reality she was just absent-mindedly scrolling down her instagram feed, checking their actions from the corner of her eye.

Rocco: "Fine then, I can come with you and then we can play off how I'm married now and of the market but you're just as good quality and then I can bail come back here to speak to Bex and you'll be in there right?" Rocco beamed as he stood up clearly proud of the plan he had come up with like an oblivious hcild

Lake: "Sure, whatever," he shrugged, as he moved in the direction of the girls with his best friend, knowing that as soon as Rocco left, Lake would too. There was no way he was actually going to do anything with this girl but he knew Rocco wouldn't give up unless he made it seem like he was interested.

Bex: Bex knitted her brows a little as she saw the two of them depart in another direction; until realising the /true/ direction they were heading to. Her jaw clenched almost instictively upon the sight as she watched them go have a talk with the girls; taking another long sip of her drink as she continued eying them like a jealous girlfriend from the bar. She knew she was probably acting completely insane; and that she had no reason to be jealous because he was, in fact, a /free/ man, but she couldn't help herself. She was fumming.

Rocco: Rocco grinned as he easily slid himself into the conversation between the girls, even married charm was a natural thing for the Collins man and he made no waste of time in pulling Lake in. "Now I may be taken ladies but don't fret because this year I brought you a gift as a consolation prize, I mean he's sexy right?" Rocco grinned as he pulled Lake closer to the group. "Rachel Lake, Lake Rachel...." He beamed sitting his friend down. "I'm going to go grab more drinks who wants?"

Lake: Lake sat down as Rocco made him, giving a smile to Rachel before smiling at all of the other girls at the table, giving them a wave. "I do," he said raising a hand as Rocco asked who wanted a drink. Knowing that he would need the drinks to continue coming if he was going to get through this nice. "It's nice to meet you," he smiled back at the girls as his friend went to get the drinks.

Bex: Bex continued to watch what was going on at the table, her grip on her glass tightening as she tried her best not to storm over there and yank that chick's hand off Lake's shoulder. Who did she think she is? Ignoring almost everything around her, for a moment Bex forgot she was still standing alone at the bar until a random stranger approached to give her one of the outmost cheesiest pick-up lines. Now, normally, she would've told him to fuck off, but given the fact that /Rachel/ was beginning to giggle and lean closer to /her/ man, Bex let out a laugh - tapping the man's chest. "oh, you're so cute!" she tried her best to beam at the man she simply wanted to punch in the face, turning her body to a side to face him more properly. "get me drunk and you can take me to your room," she told him, the man's eyes going wide before obeying. Obviously, she wasn't going through with the last part, but she knew what got people going if she wanted to use them.

Rocco: "Yes sir." Rocco beamed happily as he headed to the bar where he ordered a full round of drinks, catching his sisters eye Rocco rose a brow at her, clearly judging her new choice of companion who he gave a quick glare letting him know he would be watching before he headed back to the group with a big smile on his face at the sight of Rachel and Lake. "Well see now I knew you two would look good together didn't I?"

Lake: Lake chuckled at Rocco's words, trying to play along as he finished the rest of his drink quickly, looking behind his best friend to find Bex with another guy. Seeing her hand on his chest and her looking directly at this guy caused Lachlan to tense immediately, his jaw clenching as he glared over at the two. He looked back to the girl occasionally trying to keep a conversation going with her but his focus always ended back up on Bex.

Bex: From the corner of her eye, Bex could tell that Lake was watching, and it gave her a new set of satisfaction, knowing she was equally capable of causing him to boil up the same way she has been before. She knew him well enough by now to read his expressions, and from what it seemed, she had truly hit a spot - which kept her going on purpose as she placed a hand on the other guy's shoulder, pretending to laugh at his jokes. Truth was, she wasn't even listening to him half the time, he seemed and acted like an arrogant son of a bitch, and she'd rather die than to /actually/ hook up with him, but yet.. somehow he read her signs wrong, or maybe she was just that big of an actress, because the next thing she knew he was pushing her against the bar, sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rocco: Rocco watched his best friend stare at Bex for a second but decided to brush it off, he was probably just as protective over her as Rocco was and so the male simply thought nothing of it, instead he found himself momentarily lost in conversation with a couple of the girls, giving details of his wedding as he hoped Lake was making some moves.

Lake: As soon as Lake saw this guy's lips on Bex's he wanted nothing more than to go over there and rip him off of her. But did he really have a right to do that? Technically, she wasn't his. Even though he considered her his, the secret between them caused too much confusion on exactly what their relationship meant. He couldn't sit there any longer and he definitely knew he couldn't go over there and beat the crap out of the guy for kissing his girl. Instead, Lachlan stood up angrily and stormed away from the table without a word and outside to get some air.

Bex: "Okay- okay, I said drunk, not one sip in-" Bex pushed the guy off, rolling her eyes and wipping off his gross saliva off her lips. "You do know you're disgusting, right? No girl with a shred of self respect would ever consider glancing your way, yet alone allow you to fucking drown her in your saliva. Gross." she continued on to insult the man, who was now clearly growing in a bright shade of red before he began insulting her right back. "Oh, grow some fucking balls and know when it's time for you to leave, jackass!" Bex shoved him, removing herself from the spot to walk over to the other side of the bar - only to notice that Lake wasn't even in the company of the girls - but neither was Rachel. Naturally, her mind went off to the worst possible scenario, and she could already see her sticking her tongue in him just like the guy did to her. "That son of a bitch," she spat before she could've stopped herself, placing her drink down with a loud thud.

Rocco: As soon as his bestfriend stood Rocco rose his head, watching him storm off in confusion before he looked back to where his sister was clearly in some sort of situation with the guy at the bar. He watched Lake glare at them as he walked away before he glanced back to his sister who was now clearly in a mood of her own as she slammed her drink down. Moving to find Lake Rocco rose his hands. "Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on with you? Your mood was find like 20 minutes ago!"

Lake: When Rocco came out after him, Lake turned around, the anger still very clear in him, "I told you I didn't want to fucking be set up with anyone! I didn't like her, okay? What's the big deal? I just had to get out of there," he replied trying his best to keep his anger down and act casual but he was sure that wasn't coming across at all.

Bex: When her brother left in a weird direction, Bex followed, it was an instict, but also triggered by curiousity, only to find him and Lake in a discussion. She stopped on her tracks, her jaw still clenced as she tried to think whenever or not to approach them as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Rocco: "Bullshit Lake." Rocco laughed as he looked back at his bestfriend crossing his arms over his chest as he did so. "I've been your bestfriend since middle school and you don't just loose your temper...you were fine until..." Rocco looked back at the bar only to find Bex hovering near by. "And she...what the fuck."

Lake: Lake ran his tongue over his lips as Rocco spoke, when he noticed Bex walk out of the bar, his focus turned to her. His eyes on her as his Rocco continued to speak, he didn't think he need to reply anymore.

Bex: Hearing Rocco's words, Bex froze, emotion wipped clean from her face for a couple of moments while her lips parted, her gaze locking to Lake's.

Rocco: Rocco took a step back so he could look at the two of them, his hands falling to his hips as he began to feel a lot like his mother looking back and forth at the two staring at each other. "How long?"

Lake: His hands reached up and ran over his face, "A few months," he answered his best friend. "Before the wedding," he added, knowing that Rocco would want him to be more specific. He knew there was no way they could hide it from him anymore and Lake didn't want to.

Bex: Bex looked over at her brother; who was at that point insanely reminding her of their mother, automatically taking a step forward until Lake replied for the both of them. "I-" she paused, for once in her life finding herself lost for words. She somewhat felt ashamed that her brother would find this out like this.

Rocco: "Why....why did you hide it from me?" There was a part of him that wanted to be thrilled for the two of them, he'd wanted them together ever since Bex had had her heart broken again and he decided she deserved a nice but all this time they had been lying. "You've just been what sneaking around?"

Lake: "It wasn't like that..." Lake replied running his fingers through his hair, knowing that he didn't necessarily want to hide it from his best friend. "It just happened like that. It just started happening and we didn't... no one knew. Literally no one..." he replied not knowing what else to say as he looked at Bex feeling guilty for hiding it from Rocco but also for outing them because his anger and jealousy got the best of him.

Bex: Bex kept silent through the entire time, still unsure why she felt so damn tongue-tied when there were a million things she could've said. "It was just sex-" she found herself blurring out the first thing that popped to her mind to defend herself, finally taking another step forward to her brother. Part of her knew this was an awful lie, but it certainly did start it that way.

Rocco: "That's supposed to make me feel better?" Rocco asked with a laugh as he turned to look at Bex as she spoke, before he rounded his gaze onto Lake. "I trusted you, you were my best - oh my god did you sleep together on my wedding day!"

Lake: Lachlan's jaw clenched at Bex's words, shocked by what she had just said. He raised an eyebrow, "Just sex? Seriously?" he asked her. "I'm sorry, I obviously fucked up. I guess I mistaken this for something more than it was. I meant no disrespect to you, I would never... I'm sorry. I'll leave you two alone," he replied as he back away from them.

Bex: "No, but-" she paused when Rocco continued, before her gaze flew over to Lake. She automatically felt guilty for her choice of words. She wanted to say she was stupid for chosing them, for saying something that clearly wasn't true - but his last words caused her to back off, anger and pride once again going through her veins. "Oh, there's no need for /you/ to leave, /I'll/ leave! I'm the one leaving /you/!" she spat after Lake angrily, emotions running high in her as she turned around and stormed off, throwing insults down her own chin.

Rocco: "Both of you stop right now." Rocco ordered as his respective friend and sister moved to march of in different directions. "I may be pissed as hell right now that whatever the fuck this is has happened and you lied about it - you kept it from me but that's all I'm mad about. Even though you two clearly have some shit to sort through I have always wanted the two of you to be a thing, so you're going to sit the fuck down and I'll leave."

Lake: "You aren't going anywhere either," Lachlan said rolling his eyes. "Let her go cool down and we'll just talk about it tomorrow. I fucked up, I shouldn't have even come to the bar tonight knowing that you wanted to hook me up with someone. Even though nothing happened."

Bex: Bex turned with a loud sigh as his brother began speaking again; crossing her arms together over her chest once again, but refusing to take any steps closer. "We were never /a/ thing." she angrily protested, her gaze flying over to Lake. "We will never /be/ a thing, so why don't we just forget this whole fucked up thing ever happened and just-" she was cut off when Rachel came back in the picture from behind, asking what was going on. Bex let out a laugh; naturally not genuine. "Nothing. /Nothing/ is. He's all fucking yours," she motioned over to Lake, before fully walking off, disappearing into the crowd, and go back to her room.

Rocco: Watching as his sister left Rocco ran a hand through his hair. "Go away Rachel please." He breathed in a tired tone before he slowly looked back at Lake. "I seriously am so fucking confused right now, but whatever you did, whatever this is you better fucking fix it, she's been the happiest I've seen her in a long time lately and now I have a sneaking suspicion it might have been at your hands." Rocco breathed pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please don't prove me wrong about you Lake, fix it."

Lake: Lake didn't even notice the girl come outside, he paid her no attention. He looked back at his friend nodding his head, "I know. I won't. But she needs some time right now. She's too stubborn and heated..." he sighed. "I didn't do anything, asshole. And she's scared, being around me right now is only going to scare her more. That's why it never came out. Because I don't think she's ready to admit we are something more to everyone, to herself, even though I'm pretty sure she knows. There's no way she thinks we are just sex," he said shaking his head, trying to make himself believe that she doesn't truly think that.