#however when you have less meat to go around you maybe pay a little more attention to the flavor

[nyckie]

I can't be the only one who thinks the whole "older heritage poultry has more flavor than young commercial birds!" thing to be bogus marketing ploy.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

In Which War Is Safer Than This Family Reunion chapter 3

Bilbo was most decidedly not eavesdropping, people of his age didn’t eavesdrop that would be terribly undignified, for the likes of young Pippin and even he had supposedly matured. Whether he believed it or not…. well he himself had matured in some ways after his own adventure but in others he was bizarrely unchanged. So if when he was passing the library he happened to pass by the dining room and try to catch a glimpse of what all this drama could have been about, well he was a thief after all.

‘Oh I almost forgot,’ said in the tone of someone who had never forgotten anything in her life, ‘I brought some of my Naneth’s baking for afterwards, she’s very excited to meet you by the way darling, I thought you might like to try them,’ the elf maid that he was calling Woman Who Looks Disconcertingly Like A More Passive Aggressive Elrond In A Dress or Elrond Clone for short, said in a cheerful way that made it clear she was setting up to insult someone around the table.

Glorfindel however perked up slightly at this, ‘This wouldn’t happen to be some Doriathrim nut confection would it, my lady?’

She smiled back perfectly pleasantly as she took a polite bite out of the venison in front of her, ‘It would indeed, walnut and pear roulade to be specific.’

Glorfindel leaned over to Elrond and whispered in his ear, ‘Maybe I was too hasty, perhaps this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. The Sindar I knew in Gondolin certainly knew how to bake and I’d imagine Nimloth is no different.’

However he sent a look to Elrond afterwards making very clear that he took his words back when Elwing continued, ‘I on the other hand, as you might remember from any attempts at lembas during your youth, did not have a very thorough education in such matters due to unforeseen circumstances,’ she chuckled in a way that should have been self deprecating given the statement but with the way everyone in the room tensed and she made direct and ever so slightly manic eye contact with I Know Elves Are Tall But This Is Ridiculous who shot her a smile in return that was perhaps the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen and that included the giant dragon.

She did not stop. ‘You know I detect some Sindarin techniques in the dinner, Celeborn must have taught you, such a good influence and role model for you to have isn’t he?’ Bilbo saw people actually wince. That was even less veiled than all the jabs so far, if anything over this dinner had been remotely restrained.

Still Too Tall But This One Has Black Hair chimed in, with that unique look of someone ready to finally let loose after one probe too many that he recognised from many an awkward party, despite the redhead shooting him a warning look identical and in sync with Elrond’s ‘Really? Because I believe that this meat is cooked exactly how I would have taught him-’

‘Oh you taught him to cook! I wonder how you went about that, everyone was so low on supplies from what I’ve heard of the state of things around then,’ Anxious Looking Blonde Who’d Barely Spoke So Far spoke quickly in a, very obviously to everyone who’d been paying attention so far, futile attempt to assuage tensions.

Cutlery scraped just a little too sharply across plates in the room as Ridiculously Tall smiled appreciatively at the change of subject, ‘Yes there was quite a challenge but we mostly tried survival meals, for in emergencies such as our own and such, we’d start by lighting a good outdoor fire-’

‘Oh of course you’d know plenty about that.’

Anxious Blonde rested his hand on that of Elrond Clone and said ‘Could we please try to be more pleasant? We’ve all come a long way and the important thing is that we’re here with our son-’

Maglor decided to go in for the kill, ‘Earendil, do you really think you ought to weigh in, you do realise the only reason you haven’t been attacked for your parenting style yet is that there isn’t any to critique?’ Well that was so blatant he could understand it without any of the seemingly centuries of context needed to catch the rest of this conversation, wait a moment Earendil-

‘Don’t you dare speak to my husband like that-’

Elrond placed his fork down delicately before slamming his hands onto the table to silence the argument and speaking with a soft fury that Bilbo would have thought him incapable of. It sent shivers running down his spine even knowing Elrond was as kind a person as you could find. ‘Alright, that is quite enough that. Can you not just get on for one dinner? I really didn’t think I was asking too much considering the fact that, if we are being fully honest here, none of you would win any parenting awards for the shambles that was first half century of my life.’

He raised an eyebrow as if inviting anyone to disagree. None did.

‘Oh and another thing. Don’t believe for a minute I don’t know what you’re trying to do,’ he looked pointedly at Tall Black Hair, ‘and it’s not going to work. I asked you to come here because I wanted to see you and I don’t appreciate you attempting to manipulate me into making you leave. I’m frankly insulted you think I’d fall for that, you didn’t raise an idiot; you’re not getting out of this that easily, you kidnapped me, you’re stuck with me now.’

What? Kidnapped- what in the world was going on?! The rest of the conversation barely registered, so great was his confusion, and he slipped back to his rooms in a daze. Several hours later he found Elrond alone in the room picking up shattered dishes from the carpet and his heart broke for him, he must have been trying so hard and Bilbo had tried to believe everything would be alright but it had been impossible to ignore the thundering voices in several languages even from the other side of the house. Elrond turned to greet him while picking a salad leaf out of his hair.

‘Well, that went quite well if I do say so myself,’ Elrond smiled, genuinely cheerful, as if what had just happened was anything less than a worst case scenario for any family gathering. Which was saying something because while the good family reunion was a rare and beautiful thing the disastrous one came in many shapes and sizes and Bilbo liked to think himself in expert in the latter by now but nothing he’d seen or heard before scratched the surface of whatever he’d just witnessed.

He thought of how to enquire tactfully and then decided there was no need to start now, ‘Did it? How did these all get broken then?’

Elrond chuckled, ‘We threw them of course. I think it did rather a lot for all our ease of mind actually, venting and all that. I’ve always said throwing things can help, though this is the first time it’s actually been at my parents rather than pictures of them pinned on doors for knife practice- don’t tell anyone I said that Bilbo. They seemed in a better mood when they left anyway, they all promised to return anyway.’

Bilbo was definitely not imagining the howl of agony he heard from Glorfindel’s chambers down the hall at this last remark.

‘Oh. Well I suppose your family business is your own but I have to say there is one thing that still puzzles me.’

‘Only one? Well go ahead Mr Baggins, ask away.’

‘Who exactly divorced who?’

He did not get an answer, in fact only more questions from the way Elrond broke into a fit of laughter and grabbed a pillar for support. He’d just have to ask Glorfindel then, he seemed to know something.

[pigsiescribe]

Prego Vs Hangry Part 2

---

"Compass Rose," James muttered the name of the establishment painted on the door he was holding open for Dr. Joy, Nurse Juke and Nurse Frye. It was a quaint establishment that served iconic dishes from around the country. It was a bit late in the evening, so their party had missed the dinner rush. James could already feel some of the tension leaving his body as they settled at an empty table made of repurposed wood.

Now, Nurse Frye and Nurse Juke, James felt comfortable with. Dr. Joy, not as much. She worked in a different wing of the hospital, so their paths did not cross very often. Of the few times they did interact, James could tell she was the Take Charge type of woman. He had nothing against that; his mother had a similar personality. Dr. Joy... Something about her just didn't sit right with James.

"Good evening, merry medics." A jovial waiter arrived at their table and began handing out menus. "Wou--?"

"Excuse me," Dr. Joy cut him off. "For future reference, you should really hand the menus to those of us who are pregnant first," putting special emphasis on the word "pregnant." She was early in her second trimester, so it wasn't particularly obvious she was pregnant. Her midsection could easily be mistaken for a modest potbelly.

James was taken aback by her declaration, but tried to give her the benefit of a doubt. Perhaps this was just her way of spreading the good news. It was her first child, so she must be quite excited.

"My apologies," the waiter bowed his head, "and may I offer my congratulations." Dr. Joy looked quite pleased. "What would you four like to drink today?"

Once drinks were ordered, James looked over the menu, trying to find the cheapest options. Lower cost meant less food, but he wasn't the one paying for the meal. He could fix himself a snack when he got home.

"Lets order the meat and cheese platter to start off with," Dr. Joy declared. Nurse Juke sighed; she was lactose intolerant. Nurse Frye looked lost for words. James knew she didn't eat certain meats. Maybe Dr. Joy was unaware?

"What about the Forest Floor platter?" James suggested. It was composed of fruits, vegetables, and nuts.

"But I want meat and cheese."

That's all she had to say? "I understand, but a platter is meant to be shared with the group. Both Juke and Frye have dietary restrictions that go against the meat and cheese platter. There ARE single serving options with meat and cheese." James pointed at them on his menu.

Dr. Joy furrowed her brow slightly. "I take it you don't have children, Dr. Marker?"

"No, I do not."

"A mother, then. Do you have one?"

"Yes." Where was she going with this?

"Would you deny her of her cravings?"

James fought the urge to remind Dr. Joy that his mother was a pureblood vampire and would have little-to-no interest in cured meat and cheese. "I never said you can't have the platter, if that is what you desire. You can have the meat and cheese platter while the nurses and I can share the Forest Floor platter."

Her brow furrowed even more. Clearly, that wasn't the response she wanted to hear. "Fine," she huffed at last. "Forest Floor platter."

For somebody who wanted meat and cheese, Dr. Joy took to the fruits, vegetables, and nuts with an unusual amount of gusto. Now, James wasn't as skilled with mental math as his wife, but from his perspective, Dr. Joy was taking more than her fair share of the platter. It could have been his imagination, but it seemed every other time one of the nurses or James reached to grab some food, Dr. Joy would snatch it at the last minute.

Dr. Joy also tended to dominate the conversation; mostly about her current pregnancy. James kept quiet, as he was male and childless, and tuned out most of it. One statement, however, caught his attention.

"Maybe if you'd done the same, you wouldn't have had that miscarriage," Dr. Joy said pointedly to Nurse Frye. The poor woman popped a few dried cherries in her mouth. Appalled, James placed a comforting hand on top of Nurse Frye's. Even HE knew that was not a topic to be taken lightly.

I'm beginning to see why I was invited, James slowly realized. What exactly was he supposed to do about Dr. Joy? He was taught to be patient and respectful with pregnant women, but since he didn't know her well, it was hard to determine if this was Dr. Joy being hormonal or being plain rude.

EEEUUGH~ SOMETHING WET AND STICKY! James thought after absentmindedly touching something under the table. "Excuse me for a moment," he politely declared to his tablemates before making a beeline to the restrooms.

Upon his return, he discovered that a couple of the main courses had been served; his and Nurse Frye's. Except someone was eating his main course.

James grabbed Dr. Joy's fork hand and twisted it back; not enough to hurt her arm, but enough to prevent her from taking another bite. Then, left hand on his heart and the most polite smile he could muster, he stated in an icy, business-like tone: "Dr. Joy, I understand you are pregnant and thus require a surplus of nutrients for your child. However..." He took a short, deep breath to avoid raising his voice. "That does not excuse the fact that you are eating MY meal."

Was this petty? He honestly didn't care. James may not be starving after the appetizer, but there was no doubt Dr. Joy could hear his stomach quietly grumbling in her ear.

"I'm pregnant!" Dr. Joy remarked, wriggling her wrist out of his grip. "You can't expect me to WAIT for my food to arrive. I should have been served first! It's just common courtesy."

"I don't think you know anything about common courtesy, ma'am. Otherwise, you would know not to take things that don't belong to you, which is the very definition of theft. If I included the manager of this fine establishment into this discussion, do you think they would take kindly to your petty excuses?"

THAT scared her. James glanced at what was supposed to be his meal of grilled chicken, rice, and green beans. Dr. Joy had eaten about a third of it already.

"If you do not wish for me to summon a manager, then I propose a trade. You shall have the rest of my meal to nourish yourself and your child, and I will partake of your meal when it arrives."

Dr. Joy looked to the nurses, who were both trying to hide or contain their smirks. She looked around the rest of the diner. Nobody seemed all that interested in their situation, except a couple staff members keeping an eye on their table from afar. No one was jumping to her defense.

"Try not to choke on it," Dr. Joy snapped before continuing to chow down on James' food.

In a way, their switch was rather fortuitous. What James REALLY wanted was the meatloaf with a side of mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus (a western dish), but it was also one of the more expensive meals. He avoided ordering it as a courtesy to Nurse Juke and her wallet. The waiter was a bit confused seeing Dr. Joy eating James' food, until it was explained they decided to switch because she was "pregnant."

"Are you going to be able to finish all of that?" Nurse Frye asked, her eyes bulging at the proportions on the dish.

"Oh, honey," Nurse Juke smirked. "Never underestimate Dr. Marker at the end of a long day."

***

"I cannot thank you enough, James," Nurse Juke declared. At the end of their meal (which included dessert), Nurse Juke had explained the terms of James' meal to Dr. Joy so, by principle, Dr. Joy wound up paying for James' meatloaf dish. Not only was she forced to eat something she didn't order, she had to pay for someone else's food! The expectant mother left once the bill had been paid, warning James not to get his wife pregnant if he was going to treat her so cruelly. The other three decided on a short walk around the local park to chat and let their food settle before parting ways. During that walk, Nurse Juke explained that Dr. Joy had been acting like she was a god ever since her conception, which made meals particularly unbearable. If one dared to contradict her in any way, she would accuse them of being cruel and selfish to a pregnant woman.

"My stomach and I are happy to help," James replied, his coat hanging open. A gentle warmth had washed over him with his full belly, making the cold of the night a bit more bearable.

"I'm still surprised you were able to eat all of that in one sitting," Nurse Frye commented, tilting her head to get a better look at his midsection. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Do you want to conduct an abdominal exam?" Nurse Juke asked playfully. James opened his coat more, giving Nurse Frye a better view of how well fed he was.

"Jada! He's MARRIED."

"My wife isn't going to care," James assured her. It had become a thing among his friends and family for someone to give his belly a little pat or rub at the end of a particularly good meal.

Nurse Frye considered him for a moment. She almost looked tempted to satisfy that curiosity. "I'll just trust your gut."

***

"Starlight~ I bring fair tidings from Jada; the most decadent chocolate cake of the Compass Rose diner," James announced as he entered his adobe, setting the cake down on a nearby table so that he could hang his coat.

"How generous," Kiara smiled as she approached him. She draped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a kiss, unintentionally making his belly grumble from the sudden pressure. "Oh, excuse me, sir," she turned her attention to his midsection, stroking the sides gently. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Were you baking?" The house smelled of cinnamon and sugar.

"I thought I would make you and your little friend here a treat," Kiara explained, still exploring the expanse of his belly with gentle strokes.

"Well, luckily, dessert goes into a different stomach." James pointed to a spot below his ribcage that wasn't quite distended. "Besides, I would hate for your hard work to go to waste."

"Where else would it go then?" Kiara teased with a couple gentle pats around his waist before pulling in closer until she could feel his butt. "I wouldn't mind if a little bit more went back here."

"You're hilarious." James rolled his eyes playfully and gave his wife one more kiss.

"If we ever have children, they should have your cute butt."

"I will take that into consideration." One more kiss, and the two of them made their way to the dining room to enjoy their respective desserts and share about their days.

[vodka-redbull-daily]

October 21st, 2023

*Graphic Sexual Content*

I took a little bit of a nap before getting up again at midnight.  I had told D-- that I was going into work today and originally that had been my plan. Back when we had made this plan like a week ago. D-- was very clearly a fake name or nickname but I don’t really care. It’s not like I’m actually looking to get to know him on that kind of level. If he wants to use a fake name, it’s whatever. Honestly, I should probably also do that. All the way back when I used to try and sell feet pics, I went by Erin Red. Maybe I should pick up that alias again. he seems pretty okay with me only being able to come see him after I get off work which is way too fucking early in the morning. he lives all the way out and Elgin too. That was a full hour drive from where I am.  but he wants to pay me 400.  might as well go.

We've been sexting throughout the week. I guess that's what it is. I keep saying messaging, texting, talking to, but I guess when you get down to it it is sexting. role-playing out sexual encounters through the phone, him constantly sending me dick pics, talking about what he was going to do to me when he finally got a hold of me. I've been talking this way with B--, S--,  and probably pretty much most of them if I think about it. and for some reason it didn't hit me until just now that I was sexing them. and that I probably should be charging for it. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I am too much of a slut for my own good. I was honestly just enjoying myself and didn't even think about charging for it.

I got dressed and texted him that I was leaving. I was out the door by 1:00.  I stopped at the gas station  on the way there to fill up since we would be such a long drive and also got some red bull. i need that caffeine to keep me awake and Spunky since I had already had so much sex today  and was honestly caught off guard by how good it was with B------.  I was kind of hoping it would be mostly a let down like it was with everybody else. I'm all for sleeping with three different people in one day, but I was still a little bit sore from B------. don't get me wrong, I liked it. feeling sore between my thighs actually continuously turned around throughout the day  and that little bit of blood in my underwear got me all hot.

One of the good things about  it being so early in the morning, or late at night however you want to read it, was that there were almost no other cars on the road. I really don't think I would have gone if I had had to go during the day and fight traffic as well as Drive the entire hour. instead, I mostly just Cruised along the hallway there.  Since it's out in the middle of nowhere, the stars look really nice.

When I got there, I really thought he had either gone to sleep or he had sent me to the wrong address. The entire house was completely dark and the driveway was encircled with trees. I sent him a text and he confirmed that he was in fact there and was actually sitting on the porch. it was just so dark I couldn't see shit. so, I walked up to go say hi to him. For some reason, he just grabbed me and hugged me immediately. I don't know why that was. Maybe I felt less awkward for him but it felt way more Awkward for me. We sat on the porch for a little bit while he had a cigarette and it was really cold since I was wearing shorts and a crop top. He was very old. I mean I should have guessed that since his profile said he was 55 and his pictures showed an older man. but I guess I just forgot that he was actually that old.

so frail, voice doing that weird shaky thing that old people do. and the hug, I could even feel how loose his skin was on his bones. the lack of muscle mass. the beer belly poking out despite there being pretty much no other meat anywhere else on his bones. We sat outside and talked for a little bit about engineering stuff. He was talking about something about how his father had owned a factory that made pizza trays. I didn't really care that much to be honest. Soon enough, we ended up going back to his bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, he wanted to make out for a little bit. We did that as he slowly started to remove my clothes with his shaky ass hands. He made a comment about me being quieter in person that I was over text. I don't think guys understand the difference between having a conversation like that over text versus doing it in real life. I don't have time to think about the response, have time to type it out, see that it looks weird, and redo it. whatever. It wasn't very long before he took off his pants and had me suck his dick.

He had me suck his dick for so long. for such a long time I was just bobbing up and down on his dick as we would get hard and then go soft again.  He really was against me using my hands, apparently really excited by the fact that I had to chase his dick around with my mouth. It was so incredibly boring for me. We went on this for like 20 or 30 minutes. just me sucking his dick while nothing else was happening. He would make all these horrible old man noises. Finally, he had me bend over with my ass in the air and put on a condom. He made some joke about not wanting any more kids. He had barely got to dick inside me when it went soft again.

so, we went back to just sucking. so much to sucking trying to get it hard again. this time, it was just a limp noodle for quite some time. I don't know why I was fighting so hard to get the hard  again. probably because I was horny as fuck at that point and wanted to actually get dicked.  I don't know what's wrong with me, but I could honestly have sex all day long. I'm probably not tired of it. Maybe I should see a doctor about it.

It took another 20 to 30 minutes, but eventually he was up and at ‘em again.  I guess he realized that he shouldn't waste this opportunity since it might not  ever happen again. He put on a new condom, again had my ass up in the air and this time successfully put his dick inside me. He pumped in and out about four times before he came. It was a mixed bag of emotions about it being so short. On the one hand, I obviously didn't cum from that.  on the other, I kind of didn't want to be fucking this old man for hours and preferred it to be shorter rather than longer. Also, he was leaning very heavily on my shoulder, almost as if all of his weight was being pressed down on that hand and it was kind of hurting. 

He apologized for it being so short, but in the same breath was complimenting himself about how good his dick was. He also said that he thought that he was so big that he was hurting me. I know I make a lot of noise in bed and most of the time it's not even for show. I just make noise. but for some reason he confused my usual moans and whippers  for cries of pain, I guess.  We laid there for a little bit more,  made out for a little bit, then we got dressed again. I think I'm starting to realize that going more than one round per person is not very common. I guess I'm just spoiled. with Him,  we used to go over and over again. for hours at a time. we would soak through all the sheets, he would use two or three condoms.  I guess that's what I'm looking for and I'm not going to be able to find it here. 

I got my money off the counter. Four crisp $100 bills.  actually, it was more like two brand new crisp $100 bills on two very old, very wrinkled $100 bills. I made a joke to D----- that they matched him. She was disgusted, but also found it funny. On the drive home, I saw a little bit of a  high speed chase, I guess.  it was literally the middle of nowhere and a cop was following pretty close behind me. I was a little bit worried since my registration has been out for months now and I don't have insurance. He was so far behind me and he had his lights on already that I really didn't know what to do.  Then, I noticed that he was actually following this big van. like one of those kidnapper type bands. The van didn't have his lights on so that's why I hadn't seen it at first, but they were pretty quickly catching up to me and I was speeding a little bit.

(I always speed a little bit. sue me)

 The van and the cops weren't going incredibly fast, but they were definitely going faster than me. He came all the way from miles and miles behind me before they both finally passed me. I kind of pulled a little over to the side  because I wasn't really sure what was going on. I just wanted to get out of their way.  if the van was helping the cops, then it wouldn't want to be on their way in case the cops got pissed off at me for being too slow. and if the van wasn't helping the cops, then I didn't really want to help out the cops because fuck that shit. on the other hand, depending on what the van was in trouble for, maybe I should have helped? who cares. again, they weren't actually driving that fast so I don't know if it was really a chase. It was just weird. They drove past me, again not zooming past me, just driving, and ended up getting so far ahead of me that it wasn't really my problem anymore. 

Total Earned: $1,400

Body Count: 7

Dick Pics: 6

Sex Ranking:

B------

Him

T-----

R--

T-----

D--

M---

[sukirichi]

earned it [02]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, suggestive content, unedited fic

notes. err, i’m only doing this on impulse. i would like to continue it, but i think part one stands enough for itself :> i might delete this if i don’t like it a few days later lollll

series masterlist

Your infamous customer hadn’t arrived even as the restaurant closed. You watched close enough, fidgety in your movements and often bumping into other servers, all because your gaze kept darting back to the front door, awaiting his presence.

There’s no actual reason why you want to see him. Maybe it’s because he left an impression? The guy didn’t even budge after finding out someone had snuck into the kitchen to poison him, leaving you to wonder why anyone wanted to kill him. Not that it was any of your business, but you figured it was only common between powerful people who are equally greedy. Still, you’re unfocussed in your work, apologizing every now and then when your boss shook their head at you.

Thankfully, you managed to get back to your old pace. Thoughts of the white-haired tall man left the room at the same time everyone did, leaving only you and your boss in the locker room. You ended up working two shifts again on this weekend, your co-worker asking you to cover for them due to sudden family issues.

It’s tiring, that much is for sure, but you won’t complain when it’s more money down in your pocket. You’re dazzled, however, as you leave the locker room and see that your main chefs are still there.

Upon seeing you, they immediately usher you into a lone table, table 98 that remained untouched the whole night, a two lit candles illuminating the otherwise darkness of the isolated restaurant. Only this time, it’s occupied by him no less, his azure eyes flittering up to yours at the sound of your hesitant footsteps.

You’ve been looking for him the whole night, yet now that he’s in front of you, you don’t have any words to say. Instead, you bow down deep, the hands clasped in your lap shaking.

“S-Sir.”

“No need to be so nervous. I only wish to discuss something with you,” his laugh is so carefree, lighthearted as he gestures to the empty spot across him. “Take a seat,” Wordlessly, you foolow his orders and dash down to the seat, spine straight and head held high. There’s a hint of amusement in his small smile, but he doesn’t tease you, save for the lilting tone he held. “So you’re in sophomore year of university?”

“Yes, Sir. How’d you know?” You furrowed your brows, unsure of whether you’re supposed to expensive meal served in two.

Gosh, and this was on page three too, a single meal cost at least six months’ worth of rent.

“I pulled a string or two,” he lifts one shoulder lazily, waving his knife in the air. “And please, call me Satoru. Assuming we come to an understanding, things will go well for the both of us. You are in need of financial aid, yes?” You nod, utterly clueless in where this is leading, but Satoru’s already made up his mind long before he came here that he found no need in beating around the bush.

“Good. Then what do you say about being my sugar baby?”

“S-sugar baby?” you repeat the word first in confusion, then with distaste. He simply hums around the meat he’s eating, as if it’s a normal occurrence for him to inquire such things, and you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

You don’t care that this guy is your precious customer – he was just the same as everyone else.

“Is that the reason why you asked me to stay behind? Do you think you can just pay people to sleep with you? It may have worked on others, but not to me. I would rather keep my dignity than be with you,” you breathe hard after your rant, slapping your palms down on the table. The impact of it makes the table shake, his hand reflexively reaching to steady his wine glass. “As for what happened yesterday, you don’t have to thank me about it. I did what any right-minded person would.”

“And if I said I never wanted to be saved?” he asks, his tone still so calm that it further infuriates you. You stare at him, stunned and mouth gaping. “Sit down. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Thank you for graciousness, Sir, but I really don’t—”

“Angel,” You freeze at the nickname. He chuckles with his forehead pressed to his clasped hands, “Do you really think I need to pay people to sleep with me? I could have anyone I want,” his voice falls an octave or two, the sonorous warning rumbling something…alien inside your body. You stand there, unable to move, and he easily sees through this as he hides a smirk behind his drink. “Sit down. I’m not done talking to you.”

You don’t know what snapped in you to actually follow, but his words weren’t just that. They were always laced with eased dominance, the words leaving his lips coming out as a command. No, it was more like a hypnotizing order, and you’re nothing but a puppet enslaved by it.

His smile only grows bigger, and you hate that he looks ridiculously handsome under the dim lights of the room. Life would’ve been much easier if this man had been ugly.

“As I was saying, this relationship should be casual, no strings attached. I’d prefer if you’re exclusive to me, and in return, I’ll cover all your school fees and everything else. As for the sex,” he cuts his eyes straight to yours, an intense burning heat in them. You squirm in your seat, a little intimidated, albeit excited, by this proposition too, though you’d rather die than let him know that, “I don’t need that from you. I just want someone to talk to.”

“You’re paying me to talk to you?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’m saying you form a relationship with me in exchange of financial aid. You’d be similar to a lover, nothing less of a friend,” he stares at his drink so hard like he was having a debate with it. A few seconds later, he found his answer, the gleam in his eyes surreptitious as he says, “Someone I can trust.”

You huff. Surely it wasn’t easy as that. “Why me?”

“No reason,” he shrugged, “I just find you endearing, that is all,” You lean back on your seat, trying to process all this. The hesitance must be written all over your face because he adjusts his tie, sliding a white business card your way before sliding his chair back in. At least he’s well-mannered enough to do that. “You can take your time to think about it. There’s no need to rush.”

Somehow, seeing his figure retreat triggers something within you. You watch as silhouettes emerge from the darkness trail after him; must be his security team, serving as an additional note that what you so struggled to achieve was likely nothing for him.

Was it fear? Desperation? Shame?

You don’t know, you won’t ever really know, but you run up to him anyway, brave enough to tug at his sleeve. The guards surrounding him tense up at the contact, stepping away only when he raises a finger that spoke a thousand words.

“You-you’ll pay for everything?”

With his back turned to you, you failed to see that victorious grin he wore. “And everything more,” he reassured. He turns around to confirm your submission, but you’re quivering under his towering frame, poor hands clutched around the card so tightly he won’t be surprised if you break it. He chuckles, coaxing the worries out of you as he caresses your cheek, his breath evident of expensive liquor hitting your cheeks. “Relax, angel. It’s not like you’re selling your soul to the devil.”

Your pupils blow wide at the close proximity. If he was attractive before, it’s nothing compared to the clarity of his sharp, angular features that are softened by his playful smile. Oddly enough, his thumb caressing your cheeks is tender yet calloused.

There’s no telling when who put who under a spell, because you’re clutching helplessly at his suit jacket, whispering, “Am I not?”

You are, he wants to say, but you’re so innocent, so vulnerable – such an angel, he can’t help but hum in his head – that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know. He already knew things were bound to fall out of place one another, but until that hasn’t happened yet, he’ll have to keep you close. He’ll make you his.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he declares so confidently that you couldn’t even question his capability to do so you, and for a moment, just a moment, your knees weaken under his stare. “Now that, I can promise.”

Should you have pulled away then? When he leaned down to seal the contract with a kiss, should you have pulled away then? Or better yet, could you even pull away then?

You’ve been so alone your whole life that each moment with him is awakening, soul-crushing, mind-shattering and so damn weakening that you should’ve pulled away then. If anyone were to tell you you’d share your first kiss after work hours with a man whose name you don’t even know of, you’d tell them they were crazy, crazier if they claimed you would enjoy it.

But you did. Oh, you did, you were addicted to him – his taste, his scent, his touch, everything about him – that when he pulled away, taking away every last breath in your lung that formerly remained taint-free by him, you’re left wanting. Craving.

And he knows this. How could he not? Your eyes are hazy with lust, chest pressed against his firm ones that would soon be the same body you found home over and over again.  You’re not the only left intoxicated from this sudden agreement. Whatever you feel, he feels it twice as much after years of watching you from the sidelines, asking himself a million times over what it is about you that pulled him in so much in the first place.

The innocence? The dedication? The youthful naivety?

Gojo wants to laugh at himself. It was never any of those – he simply wanted to fool himself that maybe he’s worthy of this, of your love, of your purity. He’s selfish, manipulative, heartless, and he wants nothing more than someone like you to make him feel like he’s everything he’s not.

He steps forward to brush his nose against yours; breathing in the tiny gasps you reward him with. And he’s barely even touched you.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he rasps, butterfly touches all the way down your back to hold you flush against him, letting you feel that he’s all muscle and hardness, while you’re the complete opposite, composed of softness and little ghosting kisses. Perhaps when he gives you by a name, he was right to call you –  “My Angel.”

The loud blaring of your alarm cuts through the silence of the room, its shrill sound piercing your ears. You groan, blindly patting the bedside table to swipe snooze. The spot next to you has been cold for a while now, but it’s normal for Satoru to leave early for work that you burrow yourself deeper in the covers. Five more minutes of sleep shouldn’t be so bad; it’s the weekend, anyway. You’ve got nothing else to do.

Waking up after that, on the other hand, now that is an impending task on itself.

You’re beyond sore, your inner thighs littered with handprints and your shoulder covered in love bites. “Jeez,” you mutter to yourself, stepping out of the bathroom. Tying your robe around you, you go out your shared bedroom, rubbing your eyes to get the sleep out.

It’s past noon already – Satoru really wore you out. And fuck, you could barely walk. You had to grip the counters just to sit on the stools, and even then, you’re wincing from the pain.

He should be doing paperwork in his office right now or something; he never really told you what to do. You don’t feel like asking either since he’s made it clear he prefers to keep his personal life, well…personal. But nevertheless, you swing your legs back and forth on the stool, texting him a quick I love you baby :)

Satoru doesn’t reply.

Usually, he’d respond in a few minutes, always supplied with a wink and an eggplant emoji. It was so him to act this way, that when those few minutes turned into a few hours and you’re met with radio silence, you can’t help but worry.

You try to brush it off, ignoring the deafening silence that rings all over his penthouse. He’s busy, he’s working, he’s got things to do – that’s all it is.

You convince yourself hard enough that you’ve cleaned the place until it’s sparkling, your reflection bouncing off the black marble floors. Every minute, though, your mind would race back to him. Not thinking about him proved to be a really daunting task because you think of him when you’re eating, reminiscing the way he’d always surprise you with a back hug, muttering morning angel all over your skin just to distract you from your meal. You think of him as you’re killing time with boring dramas; if he was here, he’d nudge your leg with his foot, pushing your shorts until it exposes your panties. He’d make sure you don’t get to focus at all, riling you up and kissing you hard that the show playing becomes nothing but background noise. You think of him, you dream of him, you remember him – and yet, you can’t feel him.

Nails bitten down to the skin, you scramble for your phone, swiping call over his contact. It doesn’t go through. Now that’s another odd thing; Satoru never fails to pick up your calls.

“He’s just busy,” you lie to yourself, telling the same thing over and over again even as night falls and you’re staring at the empty left side of the bed, hands smoothing over where the curve of his body would’ve been. “He’s just busy,” you say once more, giving into the exhaustion brought on by your worries. “He’ll come home soon. He always will.”

Except he didn’t.

And that was two weeks ago.

“Angel, I got you—” Satoru immediately clamps his shut, his footsteps muted as he walks closer to you. You’ve been dating for a few months now, and you’re still very wary of the nature of your relationship so you refuse to move in with him. He doesn’t mind, he respects your space and decisions, but now he’s starting to regret letting you have your way. You’re hunched over your swiveling chair, cheek pressed against the opened textbook and glasses perched on your hair. The lamp desk illuminates the dark circles lining your eyes, his heart breaking at the sight.

Thanks to his help, you’ve been able to spend more time focusing on your studies. It should be comforting, but Satoru’s heart aches as he thinks of what you’ve been like prior to meeting him.

How long have you stayed up all night just to pass your exams? How long have you cried yourself to sleep, unable to handle the burden placed by the world on your shoulders at such a young age? How long have you had to turn down friends’ invites to parties with a forced smile because you had to go to work? How many times have you stared at a failing mark, teeth clenched because you studied well for it; your exhaustion just got the best of you and muddled your brain?

Satoru places the beer and dinner he’s got you on his way back home on top of your one-man dining table, pressing a kiss at the top of your head. You look so beautiful this way – unaware, unknowing, and focused in nothing but the future ahead of you that you don’t bother yourself with his past.

Perhaps…it was comforting, after all.

He’d rather have you worry over your own studies than worry about him. Satoru can’t stomach the idea of you – his precious angel – being involved in his own shit, possibly get caught between the crossfire. It pains him to say it, but he doesn’t want you getting too close for comfort.

So he stays there by your side, simply because it would expel all ideas of you wanting to be beside him. He’ll be right where you’re safe, and the sigh that leaves your lips when he moves you to your bed, fitting in his long, lanky bed on your cramped mattress an immense struggle. As if feeling that you’re finally home, you snuggle closer to his chest, murmuring sweet nothings that tug at his heartstrings.

Satoru rubs circles at your back, staring so hard at the chipped paint on your wall that he’s sure he’s got it burned in his memory.

Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve been satisfied with that. He should’ve held back in his desire to have more of you. He should’ve just tucked you in and left, but he was never really in control of himself. Before he knew it, he’s pulled in by you too much, encouraging him to move in with you under the lie it’s easier to keep an eye on you.

Had he just left you earlier…would things have been different then?

He’s asked himself this question too many times. Satoru always came to one conclusion. He loved you way too much that it consumed him, and soon the love he held for you slowly burned you inch by inch. The only way to save you was to pull away – but he wasn’t ready for that yet, not now – but he’s too scared, too deep in love that he ignores the warning signals and holds you close instead, finding comfort in the warmth of your arms.

Fuck. Satoru downs his second drink, glaring at everyone beneath his shades. Geto snickers beside him, sending side eyes to his boss every now and then just to check. Of course, Satoru’s not actually going to pass out, he was no lightweight, but he’d been uneasy every since that pretentious gold envelope landed on his desk.

One of the downsides of being a mafia leader meant you had to mingle with other clan shit, including him of all people. There were always new leaders popping out of nowhere, Satoru quote unquoting, criminals be spawning like maniacs.

For fourteen years – fourteen fucking years – his clan had been in bad blood with the Zen’ins. They were pretty new in the illegal side of business, starting off as a powerful name in the trade industry before they got interested in oil. One thing led to another, the family began to realize they could have so much more if they turned a blind eye to a law or to, soon shifting into illegal weaponry trade, human trafficking, then drug manufacturing.

These bastards had the audacity to insult the Gojo Clan when Satoru’s family dropped by to strike a contract out of curiosity to their goods, only to be turned down because they’re ‘barbaric’ and ‘informal.’

Satoru still remembers that humiliating moment of being escorted out by bodyguards, but he held his head high, vowing to show that bastard Zen’in guy that the Gojo’s were one of the powerhouses for a reason. He doesn’t even know where the elderly guy got his confidence from. Mafia business was not the same as their former expertise, yet they acted all high and mighty with their rules and standard of being sophisticated even in a life or death situation.

Gojo doesn’t know whether he should be happy or sad that the old man died, his son taking over just as soon as his father perished. He would’ve celebrated with a whiskey or two, except the new clan leader was quite adamant in cleaning up their name to prove he would not create the same mistake his father did.

The new leader threw a large cruise party, inviting pretty much everyone they were chummy with, and Satoru has never felt more out of place. He recognized a face or two, but he couldn’t really give a fuck. He hated events like this – it was all about establishing power and face.

Satoru groaned under his breath, swiping at another flute as a waiter passed by. He felt the bubbles fizzle down his throat, the slight burning sensation somewhat easing his nerves.

He leans back at the wall and checks his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. It’s been two fucking hours since they arrived, and the host still hadn’t arrived. If they planned on being ‘fashionably late’ Satoru won’t hesitate to slice someone’s neck tonight. He hates his time being wasted the most, and his eyes slid over to his friend’s still posture, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“Suguru,” he sighs through his mouth, “Don’t be so tense. This is a formal event – no blood will be shed tonight.” Suguru had a weird skill of being able to read Satoru’s thoughts that he raised his hands in surrender, silently promising that he’s not going to kill anyone.

“You’re not sure of that.”

“I won’t lose my composure, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he rolls his eyes, not looking back as he effortlessly places the empty glass back to another waiter. Satoru stands next to his friend, sucking his teeth out of boredom. Suguru, on the other hand, is tenser than ever, his eyes locked onto something in the middle of the crowd that began to cheer.

Faintly, somewhere at the back of his mind, Satoru hears someone whistle in signal. A few seconds later, the fireworks are lit and decorate the night sky, bursts of gold and beauty accompanying the entrance of the woman who’s so effortlessly caught everyone’s eye tonight.

Satoru is rooted to his spot, taking off his glasses the same time the crowd parts. Then, his breath is knocked away from his body, his heart pumping so hard he actually struggled to breathe.

Because you’re there, smiling and waving at the crowd as if it’s second nature to you. Seven years of being apart from one another and Satoru is still bewitched each time he lays his eyes on you. You’re the same…from your face down to the angelic feeling you always carried, but at the same time, you’re different. Gone was his precious angel who shied away from too much attention, his precious angel who would’ve never worn such a bodacious ring embedded on her left ring finger. Your smile is more charismatic, confident, and even fierce compared to the small, private ones you always shared with him – he almost couldn’t recognize you.

As if feeling someone’s eyes on you, you spot him leaning languidly against the walls, those lips you used to kiss turned downwards.

Seven years ago, you would’ve kissed him until he smiles again, singing to your pouty and clingy boyfriend who never voiced out the reason of his troubles. Seven years ago, he would’ve carried you and swung you around, showering you with affection as he reminds you how lucky he is to have you.

But this was no longer the past – that much is clear from when he left you without another word.

Still, you smile at him, an empty one that showed nothing but concealed anger. He was sure though, so fucking sure, that for a split second, he saw you light up. That may have been seven years ago, but you loved each other to the point of insanity – surely you still held some sort of fondness of him.

Satoru takes long, self-assured stride towards you, his gaze never leaving yours with his hands tucked into his pockets. There’s no telling what he’ll do, but in his mind, it’s clear.

You still love him, he still loves you. He’ll do something about it. It doesn’t matter what, he just will. That was until a young man closer to your age with blond hair and pierced earrings, narrow feline eyes lined with eyeliner hobbles beside you, his weight supported by a cane that Satoru stops in his movements.

He’d recognize that face anywhere.

The youngest and perhaps most mischievous leader of them all, Naoya Zen’in. Albeit not as hard-headed as his father in comparison with his rather laid-back and welcoming nature, Satoru knows a monster when he sees it. It takes one to know one, after all, and despite the heir being crippled from a former accident, his intelligence and power was not to be overlooked through his appearance and coy smiles.

In fact, he might even be more dangerous than his old man, this theory only proven when his arms snake around your waist. The matching rings gleam from under the light, and you press yourself closer to him to whisper in his ear, your attention very much still on Satoru.

Satoru’s entire body burns.

“Still there, Sir?” Suguru asks, gripping his boss’ bicep to hold him back. Smart of him, Satoru exhales through his nose, unable to stop his glare from darting to your husband’s.

He’s heard of you, of him, of how his most annoying rival had a phenomenal trophy wife who looked harmless at first look, but was actually the brains of most of his operations. Satoru forgets how to breathe normally because he’s heard of you, and the rumors he’s gotten wind of about Naoya’s trophy wife are nothing less of how dedicated and perfect the two of you are.

Slapping Suguru’s arm away from him, Satoru grits his teeth. “Get me a drink.”

His precious angel was gone. No, this woman that stood before him…you were an entirely different entity, something darker, something along the lines that were more like him.

What exactly happened the day he left you?

taglist: @ladywaifuuwrites​ @savantsoulfinder​ @my-reality-is-in-my-head​ tagging the ones who asked for part 2, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[robininthelabyrinth]

"The Untamed", but Jiggy has a white cat whom he tells everything.- May or may not be sentient or 'spiritual' like Fairy in the book. (From an idea I've thrown around with my friend @yraelviii)

ao3

He found the cat in Qinghe.

“What are you doing here?” Meng Yao said, crouching down to try to scoop out the little handful of white fluff underneath his cabinet only for it to bare its infantile fangs and him and hiss, moving its butt around as if it thought his fingers ought to be running in fear from its fearsome pounce. “How did you even get in here?”

The cat – a kitten, really, small and scrawny, dirty and covered in ashes as if it had just run out of a forge, but no less passionate for it – squirmed in his hand as he picked it up.

“Who owns you?” Meng Yao asked, and the cat hissed viciously as if to shout no one owns me!

Something about that echoed in Meng Yao’s heart – no one owns me, he thought – and so he fished up some extra meat from his plate, filled a small platter with water, and used the sleeve of an old outfit that needed to be taken to be laundered anyway to wipe the grey ash off of the cat’s white fur while it was distracted by sniffing suspiciously at the food and water that it ultimately declined to consume.

“Just this once,” he told it.

-

Doing good work will often only bring you more work, Meng Yao reflected, and so it was with the cat as much as with anything else. He still didn’t know how the cat managed to get into his rooms, and he sometimes dwelled on paranoid suspicions that there were hiding-holes in his chambers designed to allow others to spy on him, just as there had been in certain rooms in the brothel – though even at his worst moment of uncertainty and doubt he didn’t really think so. He knew that it wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s style even if Meng Yao had been someone important enough to care about, and anyway he didn’t question his own ability to discovery such a thing if it had really existed. He’d checked.

At any rate, however it kept getting into his rooms, the cat was now a regular presence there, lurking around.

It didn’t want to be petted and greeted all attempts to feed it with utter disdain, but despite its general standoffishness it seemed to like being in the same vicinity as Meng Yao, enjoying nothing more than to settle haughtily by the window in his room and watch over Meng Yao as if it thought he might get lost without its supervision.

Meng Yao thought it was probably someone’s pet gotten lost, or maybe even just a feral cat from outside (Qinghe had a fair number of them) that had figured out that it could access the good life by going inside, but it was very hard to sincerely worry over the ill-intentions of a cat, and he was already very busy.

If he didn’t need to care for it, then it wasn’t adding to his troubles. Let the cat sit where it liked!

Meng Yao had found that life in Qinghe was both different and similar to life in Yunping, the only life he had to compare it to, and it amused him to think of the great and righteous Nie sect as an overly large brothel, with the main difference being that they sold their strength where women sold their bodies. In both places there needed to be order, someone to sort things out and tell people where to put things and what to do; in both places Meng Yao, with his quick mind and excellent memory, his sense of understanding people and anticipating their needs, was utterly invaluable in arranging such things.

He had, admittedly, expected it to take a little more time to climb up to the top – the only person he couldn’t understand in this place was Nie Mingjue, who was far too easy to deceive and smiled at him like he really thought they were friends instead of just being master and servant, who appreciated his talents and told him so, who shrugged off his mistakes and had faith that he would do better, who ignored his status instead of lording it over him the way Meng Yao had expected him to. Even when he was angry, when he shouted and slammed his hands against things, Nie Mingjue never once mentioned Meng Yao’s background, and the only things he seemed to hold against him were his own mistakes.

Meng Yao still didn’t know why Nie Mingjue would act so rashly as to promote someone he had just met to a position as high as viceroy, much less actually trust him, but it didn’t really matter. However quixotic his method of reaching a place of power, he was here and his next task was to keep his place until he’d made a reputation for himself.

Part of that he did through his work, good critical work that people needed and which had always won him gratitude even if not respect, but the other part of it was in cultivation. That was the way in which the Nie sect was not like a brothel: you couldn’t just be clever, you couldn’t even just be beautiful - to be respected, you had to cultivate.

Not that wanting to cultivate was a problem for Meng Yao.

He’d always had a memory like a sponge and a body that obeyed his every wish, his childhood of mimicking the beautiful dances of his mother and her ‘sisters’ serving him well in transitioning to learning the sword even if he was years behind everyone else; his mother had bought a thousand fake cultivation manuals for him and he’d learned them all, each one of them more useless than the next, and now that he was here in the cultivation world at long last, he was finally, finally, finally able to cultivate for real.

Using Nie sect methods, of course, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.  

He’d started as soon as he could when he arrived, endlessly grateful that the Nie sect provided training sabers without cost, and he’d snuck one away back to his room so that he could practice on his own time, knowing it would take a long time to form his golden core. He’d debated with himself for a long time as to whether or not it was worth it to invest in a real one – if the training sabers were free, then real proper Nie sabers were somehow three times as expensive as the swords you could buy in the marketplace, and you could only put in a deposit without any notion of when you’d actually get the saber, apparently subject to the contrary dispositions of the spiritual weaponsmiths that made them.

In the end he decided to go for it more or less on a whim, emptying out his hard-built savings to place the order, even though he knew he would one day need to discard whatever they made for him in favor of a sword.

The Jin sect would accept him one day. He would make them.

(If the Nie sect cultivation style was good for one thing, he thought as he went through endless drills of slashing and thrusting, it was that you could work out your anger while you were doing it. There was nothing quite like imagining the face of someone you hated and then bringing down the practice saber in a vicious slash, and oh, but Meng Yao hated so very many people.)

The cat liked watching him train most of all, although Meng Yao suspected it was because seeing him jump around panting was funnier than watching him sit at his desk and gracefully write out letters. It would occasionally start purring, a sound a little like a crackling fire, and eventually Meng Yao got into the habit of going to run his fingers through its fur as a reward for himself when he successfully completed a training sequence.

After a while, he started talking to it, too.

“That commander,” Meng Yao said as he brought the training saber down. His real saber was still on the order, probably stalled purposefully; the smith assigned the task was probably one of the people that thought they were too good to deal with him because of who his mother was, and it’d all been a waste of money in the end. Completely a waste, even if Nie Mingjue had smiled so happily at him when he’d heard about Meng Yao placing the order, his eyes warm and soft and how had that man survived so long in this wretched world of politics and pain, didn’t he know he would always be deceived and betrayed?

Why should he be the exception to the rule, when everyone else had to suffer?

Meng Yao threw away the unhelpful thoughts and thrust the saber forward, as if piercing his invisible opponent straight through the chest.

“That commander.” He minutely corrected his form and stabbed again, this time as if piercing through the belly: a gut wound, a slow and awful way to die. “He’ll regret what he said to me.”

The cat’s purring intensified.

Meng Yao briefly had the wild thought that it approved.

“I just –” Another thrust. “– need to figure out –” An overhead slash. “– how.”

-

Meng Yao ended up taking the cat with him when he left Qinghe.

It probably was someone’s pet and he was opening himself up to a charge of stealing, a charge he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against now that he no longer had Nie Mingjue’s protection –

(Nie Mingjue who had wept tears and blood at what Meng Yao had done, betrayed at last after having finally encountered a deception he could not swallow, who had banished him from the Unclean Realm even after everything Meng Yao had done for him – who had, despite it all, still hidden an entire bag of gold and Meng Yao’s favorite Qinghe snacks in Meng Yao’s things with a short note claiming that it was for unpaid wages. As if Meng Yao had ever let a single pay period go by without claiming exactly what he was due. As if Nie Mingjue still cared despite throwing him out, as if he worried about how Meng Yao might live, as if he hadn’t given up the privilege of caring about things like that – )

He didn’t really care.

He wanted the cat, so he took it. It was the least Qinghe could do for him.

The cat spent all its time in his new rooms in the hotels he stayed out as he traveled: in his bedroom and study, the little gardens that, when available, he liked to use to train in the mornings and evenings. It would even follow him when he took a bath (although that was with great reluctance on the part of the cat, and only if Meng Yao were taking an especially long time in the bath and the cat was worried he’d drowned, yowling angrily as if it could revive him through the power of its voice). If it had once belonged to someone else, it now belonged to Meng Yao, and Meng Yao didn’t give away anything that was his.

“I’ve made worse mistakes,” he said defiantly to the cat, which blinked at him from its side of the carriage he’d used some of the gold to rent. “It’s only that I don’t want to review them in order to think of which ones those might be.”

The cat got up, stretched its back, and walked over to butt its head against Meng Yao’s hand before turning and going back to its spot by the window.

Meng Yao wasn’t sure if that was a sign of agreement or if the cat just thought there was a treat in his hand. Not that the cat had ever accepted treats from his hand.

He still wasn’t sure what the cat ate, actually, but he was sure the cat would make its feelings known now that they weren’t somewhere with a dependable kitchen, though he supposed there was always the possibility that it would start picking up hunting.

“Wen Chao said that they’d aimed at the Cloud Recesses,” Meng Yao said, deciding not to dwell on the things of the past. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about Nie Mingjue’s betrayed eyes or the snacks he hadn’t even known Nie Mingjue had known he’d liked, about the hand-me-down guans and trinkets that Nie Huaisang had insisted were part of his wardrobe when he’d helped him pack even though he knew Nie Huaisang still wore them sometimes, about the fact that he should have been ordered to take the Nie sect’s braids out of his hair when he passed by the gates for the final time since he didn’t deserve them anymore but the two disciples there had just nodded at him and let him pass without a word – nothing to do about the saber he’d ordered, still on the list to be made, and maybe if he made something of himself out in the world alone he would one day come back to claim it at last. “That’s where we’re going now. Lan Xichen might be in danger. I have to help him.”

The cat made a sound like it was considering hacking up a hairball.

“He was kind to me,” Meng Yao said, feeling defensive. “The only one who never judged me –”

Since he’d decided to forget about Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, wiping it out of his mind as if it had never been, that was even true.

“– and he’s a proper gentleman, a good man. I’ll help him.”

That Lan Xichen was also a powerful man was something he wished he didn’t think of, but he couldn’t help the way he was.

“After I help him, I’ll figure out what to do next,” Meng Yao said, like a liar, and the cat looked at him like he was stupid – which he was being, because of course he’d already planned out what to do next, figured out his next move, and there was no point in lying to a cat about it. Meng Yao had skills that were only useful in management, not labor, and the only thing he left to sell was information about the sect from which he’d just been ejected. “No one owns me, right? Let it be the Wen sect.”

The cat did not purr, but it didn’t condemn him, either.

That would have to do.

-

It was a good thing that Meng Yao’s cat was self-sufficient, he thought, because he had neither the time nor the stomach to feed it during his time at the Wen sect.

If he had thought he had worked hard at the Nie sect, he now knew differently: at least there the worst he had faced from his colleagues had been disdain and not outright murder attempts, back-stabbing and undercutting to try to show off to Wen Ruohan, and all the while the man himself demanded more and more from him without the slightest care for his own well-being. He was grist to the mill for Wen Ruohan, no matter how much the Chief Cultivator enjoyed having another man’s prized deputy as his own – Wen Ruohan might had been very nearly driven insane by the Yin Metal, but he still remembered old grudges – and it was night and day away from Nie Mingjue’s reliance on him that was based on trust, rather than reluctantly satisfied suspicion and paranoia.

Meng Yao had hidden the cat as best as he could from the start, thinking rightfully that people would try to use it against him, and to his relief it seemed that no one else had yet laid eyes on it and identified it as his own, despite its white fur standing out like a beacon to his sight. Unfortunately there were some people that had managed to figure out that he had a cat, even if they didn’t lay eyes on it themselves, and he’d had more than a few incidents in which someone had left poisoned meat out on the floor by his room in order to catch it.

The cat seemed as unimpressed with that as anything else.

Instead, the cat seemed to have taken up hunting as its pastime. It brought back the corpses of small birds, the Yin Metal-infused little spies, full of resentful energy, that Wen Ruohan had developed for his sons to use. At first Meng Yao worried about the cat getting somehow poisoned by them, but time went on and it seemed to be fine, even thriving. It had grown into a proper cat now, no longer a kitten, and it enjoyed licking its white and shining fur until it was gleaming.

It didn’t like Meng Yao’s training sessions as much – he trained with a sword now, two-faced just like him, and in a dozen different styles, Wen and Jiang and Jin, always Jin – so sometimes Meng Yao would go back to doing the old Nie sect style again, knowing the cat would recognize the familiar movements, and it was a surefire way to get the cat to purr.

The Nie sect style was also still the best for getting out anger, all aggression and sharp movements, and Meng Yao still had a lot of anger inside of him. He was starting to think he always would.

At least here in the Nightless City he could kill the people he hated, as long as he did so in low and dirty ways that didn’t trouble Wen Ruohan or interfere with his plans, and yet every time he did it, he felt no relief, only a vile and wretched stickiness that came, perhaps, from that awful Yin Metal that he had schemed over yet couldn’t seem to escape.

The cat didn’t like the Yin Metal one bit. It hissed and scratched, and in one notable incident seemed like it was going to pounce on it directly if Meng Yao hadn’t caught it mid-leap and shoved it into his sleeve before anyone had noticed it.

“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Meng Yao told the cat next time he trained, using the soft sword he’d hidden away for a time of need to hack and slash in the Nie way, which didn’t work with a soft sword at all but which made him feel strangely better. He was currently imagining Wen Ruohan’s head underneath a saber, his head and the heads of all those corpse puppets he’d created. “I will cut you loose if you do that.”

The cat rolled onto its back and showed its soft and fluffy belly, which only the truly unwise would seek to lay a hand on – Meng Yao still had scars – and Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “No one owns you, not even me. But do me a favor and don’t screw this up for me. Not when I’m so close.”

Lan Xichen had been accepting his letters and feeding them to Nie Mingjue, who trusted as blindly as he ever did. Meng Yao wished sometimes that he didn’t, that he would learn, that he would put some defenses up on that stupid reckless heart of his, but on the other hand it suited his plans very well that he didn’t.

Soon, he thought. Soon.

Soon he’d know what he needed to do.

-

“Now he chooses not to trust people,” Meng Yao complained to his cat. “Now. Now!”

The cat purred.

It wasn’t that Meng Yao (damnit, Jin Guangyao, he had a new name, he was Jin Guangyao now) couldn’t understand Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to trust him – fool me once, fool me twice, but three times seemed to be the other man’s breaking point – and in some ways he understood it more than ever now that he had been accepted back by the Jin sect, clothed in the gold he’d always deserved to wear.

Jin Guangshan hadn’t lost much in the war, not like the other sects, and the second it was over he was already scheming. Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was pulled right into the thick of it at once, less for his spying capability than for his sheer disposability, the fact that Jin Guangshan wasn’t willing to burden his pure and righteous heir with black matters that he was more than happy to taint the son of his whore with. With Nie Mingjue, general and hero of the Sunshot Campaign, representing the only real threat to the Jin sect’s domination, even if he didn’t want to be, Jin Guangyao was bound to be in opposition to him.

It made sense for Nie Mingjue not to trust him.

It irritated him regardless.

Still, lack of trust or no, Nie Mingjue had succumbed to Lan Xichen’s impassioned arguments and had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, even if Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue’s primary motivation was to keep a better eye on him and scold him the way he did Nie Huaisang. It would be politically beneficial to Jin Guangyao to be tied in such a way to Nie Mingjue – it would suit his own desires as well, though that was less important – and so he had of course agreed as well, and he was planning on going to their oath ceremony in the outfit he had chosen for himself, gold from neck to foot, a sword he’d taken from the treasury since no one would order him one of his own, and a hat on his head like the ones his mother so admired to make up for his lack of height and to hide the Nie sect braids he still habitually wore underneath.

An old habit, and one he really ought to break, really. Ideally before Nie Mingjue figured it out and told him to cut it out.

There was a knock on the door, a familiar pounding, and the cat looked up, intrigued, even as Jin Guangyao sighed voicelessly to himself. Perhaps he had waited too long.

Perhaps it would be better to make a clean cut in this way, too.

He opened the door.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he greeted, thinking to himself that it would only be a few more hours before he was entitled to call the man da-ge as if they were nearly equals and how strange that would be. “Can this humble one help you?”

“Can I come in?” Nie Mingjue asked gruffly, his eyes lingering on Jin Guangyao’s uncovered and Nie-braided hair, just as he might have expected. Had expected.

Jin Guangyao nodded and stepped back, allowing him in, and closed the door behind him. “Could I get the sect leader some refreshments?” he asked politely, but Nie Mingjue seemed to have come to a stop right in the entranceway, surprise written all over his features. “Sect Leader Nie?”

Nie Mingjue was staring at Jin Guangyao’s cat.

“…Sect Leader Nie?”

Did Nie Mingjue not like cats? There were an endless number of feral cats in Qinghe, so it seemed implausible, and yet, here Nie Mingjue was, looking at the cat like he’d never seen such a thing before in its life.

Of course, at that exact moment, Jin Guangyao’s cat, the traitor, hopped off its pillow and went straight to rub itself against Nie Mingjue’s leg, purring like a little maniac.

Jin Guangyao stared at it, feeling thoroughly betrayed by what he would have previously said was his thoroughly unsociable cat, who had taken years to warm up to him enough to give him half the attention it was now bestowing freely on Nie Mingjue. Was this the heavens deciding to mock him for his earlier betrayals?

Alternatively, Nie Mingjue might just be very good with cats, which Jin Guangyao could believe. Perhaps he even carried in his pockets some of the Qinghe vine that cats were said to be so enamored of, although certainly Meng Yao’s cat had never once before shown an interest in such things before.

“…what’s its name?” Nie Mingjue croaked, voice hoarse. He was still staring fixedly at the cat, looking as though his entire world had shattered around him. He hadn’t even looked so unsettled when Jin Guangyao had so viciously mocked him at the Nightless City, and at the time he’d thought he was going to die and be turned into a corpse puppet to murder all his loved ones.

Jin Guangyao was tempted to say something rude or facetious, something like ‘I just call it Cat, why, do you name random cats?’, but the cat had been a good companion of his for a long time now and he couldn’t do that to it, even if he was currently planning on taking an extra long bath to force the cat to miserably linger by the door to the bathing room, screeching in unhappiness at the wet, but bravely (if grumpily) supervising him to make sure he didn’t drown.

“Hensheng,” he said, because that was in fact what he’d named it – it meant hatred for life, which was not exactly an auspicious name but which had stuck from the very moment he had thought it up – and waited to hear Nie Mingjue’s judgment. “It’s not normally quite so sticky,” he added in an attempt to save some face. “With most people.”

“Well, it’s me, that’s different,” Nie Mingjue said, and maybe the man really was just the human incarnation of the plant cats liked so much. Meng Yao really wouldn’t put it past him. “You...you cultivate in the Nie sect style? Still?”

Jin Guangyao blinked, surprised by the change in subject.

“Yes,” he said, a little hesitantly. He cultivated many styles now, although it was always the Jin sect style when he was in public. But he still had all the anger in his belly to vent – even more so now than before, anger at his father, anger at Madame Jin, anger at his brother born to a blessed life, anger at all those disciples that sneered at him even after he’d been legitimized, anger, anger, anger – and the Nie sect style had always been the best for that.

And anyway, it made the cat purr.

“Is that a problem, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said, and when he turned to look at him his eyes were warm and soft the way they’d been all the way before the fiasco with Xue Yang, shimmering with tears of joy and a smile that seemed to come straight from his heart, the foolish easily deceived man. It was so unexpected that Jin Guangyao actually took a full two steps back, his jaw dropping a little. “I’m happy for you. Very happy.”

He actually wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, dashing away the tears.

“You should come back to the Unclean Realm to pick it up when the brotherhood ceremony is done,” he added nonsensically. “I can’t imagine how long it’s been waiting for you.”

“…what?” Jin Guangyao said. “Pick up what?”

“Hensheng,” Nie Mingjue said, which – what? “Your saber. Hensheng.”

His saber?

The saber he’d never gotten, having been banished from the Unclean Realm before the order was finished, the one he’d spent all his savings on just in putting in the deposit, the one he’d never actually finished paying off? He remembered it, of course, and sometimes it still itched under his skin that he’d never gotten what he was owed because everything that was owed to him he deserved to get in the end. But…

“Hensheng is my cat,” he said.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “That’s not a cat,” he said. “That’s a saber spirit.”

Jin Guangyao’s gaze dropped down to the cat.

The cat that never seemed to eat anything or drink anything, that never once fell for the poisoned meat or accepted his offers of treats, that no one in the Nightless City had ever seen with their own eyes; the cat that could consistently get into his rooms despite there being no holes for it to enter, as if it had simply passed through the walls like a ghost.

Like a spirit.

The cat, which purred whenever Jin Guangyao practiced the Nie sect forms, swinging a saber with rage in his heart.

The cat to which he had confessed all his anger, all his frustration, all his rage, all the feelings he never gave to any human being around him – the sabers of the Nie sect thrived on such emotions, those feelings that encouraged them and strengthened them, developing the saber spirits that made each one of them a spiritual weapon unlike any other, with power and rage infused into the very blade.

Saber spirits, which only those born into the Nie sect or adopted early, raised in their ways, one of them, could form.

“A saber spirit?” Jin Guangyao said weakly, and his knees suddenly didn’t seem strong enough to hold him; he swayed and Nie Mingjue stepped forward quickly, catching him by the shoulders to steady him. “I cultivated a saber spirit?”

“The saber is back in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Mingjue said, not without kindness. “It was only ever waiting for you to pick it up once you developed the spirit, so that you could introduce the two.”

“It hasn’t been – I would have thought it would have been thrown away, or repurposed –”

“It’s a Nie saber, Meng Yao. It won’t obey anyone else ever again, not in this life; it is yours, yours alone. When one day you die, it will be buried with honor in our saber halls, just like all the others.”

The cat looked up at him and purred.

No one owns me, Jin Guangyao thought – the first thing the cat had said to him, and he’d always had a good understanding of what the cat wanted from the very first. No one had owned that wild spirit then, but it had stayed by his side, at first from curiosity and later from habit, and it was his now.

His, and no one else’s.

“Will you come pick it up?” Nie Mingjue asked, hope in his eyes. “Will you come home, if only for a little while?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said. “Yes, I will.”

-

Later, Jin Guangshan told his son to kill Nie Mingjue, that fool who trusted too much and didn’t know when he was being deceived, finding him in his rigidity and righteousness too much of a burden on the power he planned to wield.

Jin Guangyao bowed as deep as he could, a smile on his lips, saying nothing, and the next day, when Jin Guangshan went to the brothel as he always did, drinking tea served by his son the way he always did, he never did figure out why his heart had stopped.

(The saber Jin Guangyao began to wear openly after the funeral – a gift from his sworn brother, he said with a smile, in remembrance of his time at the Nie sect – purred in pure satisfaction.)

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love Pt. 2 (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T? Maybe? Almost the exact opposite of the first one. Language, minor violence Genre: Fluff, mainly, with admittedly a little bit of humor? I blame my lack of sleep. And my adhd. Warnings: Implied cannibalism adjacent activities because guess what honey, this is a fucked up family, what do you expect of me??? Sure, they have breakfast in this, there's cute stuff, but c'mon, they don't eat flowers and oatmeal! Notes: Doubt it needs to be said, but this is a sequel to the good ending of part one. Also Cass has one line in this that might be OOC, or seem oddly placed, but admittedly this chapter is also loosely based on a dream I had, and I couldn't not include the few direct quotations I remembered, and she seemed the most likely to say the line. And yes, there will be a part 3, because I am weak and also kind of maybe made this one less plot-moving than intended.

{Wounded Love: The re-woundening}

Every step ached more than the last, even with Alcina supporting you. She had wanted to carry you down the stairs, of course, but you had insisted that you would be fine. Now you were just determined not to complain out loud. One yelp or cry and you’d be scooped up in her arms, surely to be carried for the rest of the day. As much as you appreciated your girlfriend’s assistance, you hated feeling useless, and hated putting a burden on others. So here you were, one arm wrapped around Alcina’s waist, limping ever-so-slowly towards the dining room.

Further ahead (unburdened by your injury) the three Dimitrescu daughters talk among themselves, voices hushed as they too headed for breakfast. It was odd to see them all awake, and socializing, as there was usually at least one who came to meals late. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with your condition… or the circumstances that had caused it.

Less than eighteen hours had passed since your fight with a stray lycan, and tension had been high since. While you hadn’t yet spoken to the sisters, you had spoken to Alcina, who had briefly mentioned their concern for you. Whether they actually cared about you as a person or just cared because you are dating their mother is unclear. Based on how they had acted while treating your wounds, though, you were inclined to think that they were fond of you. And seeing as Alcina had already vowed to get revenge on your behalf… well, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her daughters intended to assist.

“Careful on the last step, dear,” Alcina says, positioned as to catch you if you fell. It takes a little willpower to resist the urge to hop down the rest of the way. As long as you landed on your uninjured leg, it wouldn’t even be that bad. Still, irritating your girlfriend first thing in the morning felt like a pretty stupid thing to do. Instead you just nodded, slowing down even more, and took visible care not to trip. “Good girl.”

Well, you certainly couldn’t say that being careful didn’t have its rewards.

“I have my moments,” you replied, blush rising to your cheeks. Suddenly your pain didn’t feel so bad (at least until you took another step and winced). “Damn, who woulda thought that cutting a chunk out of my leg would make it hurt more?” The leg in question throbbed in pain, as if to prove your point, protesting the weight you put on it. Changing the angle at which you stood helped some, allowing the lower half of the limb to bear more of the burden.

“Dearest…” Alcina starts to say, looking like she was going to readdress her desire to carry you. For a moment you try to avoid her gaze, but she moves in front of you, making sure that you could still hold onto her for support. “I know how you feel, how you want, desperately, to be independent. When I was first… granted this gift, it took a long time to adjust. There was so much I had to relearn how to do, so much that I suddenly needed done for me.” A pause, a deep breath. At last you look up at your girlfriend, warmth in your heart, reaching out to hold her hand. “You have time, my dear, and plenty of it. More than that… this will not last forever. The more you push yourself, the longer your recovery will take. Now, please, allow me to assist. You have already proven how strong you are.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain… but if you insist, who am I to decline? Or, well, who am I to decline twice in a row?” You answer, somewhat begrudgingly. It wasn’t much farther to the dining room, you figured, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss to accept help. Or at least that was what you told yourself. Even with Alcina’s encouragement it was so hard for you to accept her help. After all, you were the one that worked for her. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat responsible for your injury- really, you were actively avoiding thinking about that.

It’s much easier to forget once Alcina carefully picks you up. One arm goes under your legs, the other under your chest, lifting you without any effort. You might as well have been a kitten or a child’s toy. The movement does, however, shift your injured leg in such a way that it aches. At this point you can hardly move the limb at all without it hurting, and even the slightest friction against the bandage makes your eyes water.

Apparently someone would be delivering some painkillers later in the day. You assumed it would be The Duke (whose name is apparently not Doug, as you had thought), seeing as he knew some special way to get to and fro without risking the same fate that had befallen you. Which, of course, made you feel a lot better. Getting someone else hurt would weigh on your mind forever.

Regardless, you were safe now, as was your strange, bloody little family. Before long you would even be enjoying a pleasant meal together. Certainly that would help get your mind off of your wound? For now, though, you were met with an unexpected impasse. The sort of impasse that really, really should have been expected.

“Why… is the doorway… so small?” You asked, jokingly, as you stare into the mildly embarrassed face of your girlfriend. It’s already hard enough for her to crouch through the gap normally. When she’s carrying you? Impossible. “Can we ask Mother Miranda for bigger doors? She gave you eternal life and also three kids, she’s gotta be capable of making bigger doors. Put me down, I’ll go call her and-”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Alcina cuts you off, not fully appreciating this part of your humor. Or maybe she had already asked for bigger doors, only to be told no?... Okay, yeah, it was probably the first option. With a sigh she sets you down, as gently as she can manage. Ready and raring to go, you start to hobble forward, only to find all three of the daughters waiting for you, just beyond the door. They’re grinning as they watch you, and Bela extended her arm to offer her help. “What appears to be the matter?” Alcina asks from behind you. Accepting your fate and Bela’s arm, you let the sisters guide you to the table, Cassandra holding your other side, and Daniela pulls your chair out for you. Honestly it’s pretty adorable. Evidently your girlfriend agrees, from the way she smiles as she follows.

“Thank you,” you say, more out of reflex than genuine gratitude. Again, you weren’t thrilled about needing this assistance. If the girls notice they’re at least polite enough not to mention it. They simply move to their own seats at the large table, eager to dig in. It feels… strange, to be here, on this side of things. Stranger still to realize you’re the only one intending to eat actual food. There’s wine in your glass, but it’s a much fainter red than those you’ve previously served to your girlfriend. Thank goodness, you think, after how raw my throat was yesterday, I really don’t need to taste any more blood.

Once Lady Dimitrescu sits down, the meal formally begins, with several maidens appearing from the kitchen. Several seem relieved to see you, although surprised, and one even gave you a brief smile. The smile did not last, however. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the nature of her job, the pressures that it put upon her. No one smiled at mealtimes. Well, no maidens, that is. They simply moved around, wordlessly, faces blank, doing exactly as instructed. Only a few days ago you had been among them, fear keeping you in line. Was it wrong of you to care for Alcina, knowing what she was capable of doing to others? Knowing what she might have, in another life, done to you?

A maiden places a plate of warm food, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit, in front of you. For a moment your eyes meet, but she looks away instinctively. Your heart threatens to break.

“This looks wonderful, thank you for your hard work, all of you,” you speak up, glancing at each of the women working so hard. There’s more you want to say that dries in your throat; you are valued, you are deserving, someday I will join your ranks again.

“You don’t need to thank them, they’re just doing their jobs,” Cassandra chimes from the other side of the table. Hearing her say that damn near makes you drop your fork. It’s not an uncommon settlement, particularly among older generations and the rich, but one that irks you nonetheless.

“They’re doing my job. They are taking on extra work, for no pay, because I am injured. Why would I be so cruel as to ignore them? Have I not toiled alongside them enough to call them my kin?” You ask, struggling to keep your voice even. Next to you Alcina is slowly cutting into her meat, watching the scene unfold out of the corner of her eyes, perhaps considering when to step in. On the other end of the table, Bela looks increasingly uncomfortable, as if silently willing her sister into silence. None of the maidens have reacted to what you said, likely too afraid of Cassandra to even consider speaking.

“Ooooh, this is much more fun than our usual breakfasts,” Daniela says, stifling a giggle. “Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share? Preferably ones that aren’t about me.” At this, Alcina sets her utensils down, clearly intending to put an end to the discussion. Unfortunately for her, you were a bit… impulsive, especially considering the previous night’s activities had left your mind struggling to cope.

“Dead lycans smell terrible. Literally the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, easily, no question about it,” you answer, shrugging a little as you do. It’s such a simple thought that you almost don’t realize how the others at the table react. Until the clatter of silverware on the table catches your attention, that is. All three sisters are eying you with different expressions (Bela is confused, Cass is impressed, and Daniela looks shocked). But it’s Alcina’s wide-eyed stare that gets you to elaborate. “Should I have said ‘a dead lycan’? I only got one, so I guess I shouldn’t say they all smell bad. C’mon, though, they have to all smell bad, right?”

Suddenly Daniela shifts from shock to pure amusement, a fit of giggles overtaking her. You’re still confused, not sure what the matter was, so you just sip your wine and hope someone asks the right questions.

“You… killed the lycan that attacked you?” Bela finally says, after a few moments of her sister laughing, expression still incredulous. When you nod she sort of shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “May I ask how you managed that?”

“Oh, you know, I just meh meh-” you mime a stabbing motion with your fork- “until the stupid thing stopped moving. I had to use a tree branch as a weapon, but then it broke after a few whacks, which actually helped because then I had two stabbing implements to, you know, stab with. That’s right around when it got my leg, and it tried to bite me. Thankfully it wasn’t very smart, so when it leapt at me I just hyah-” this time an upwards strike- “right into its neck. That didn’t kill it, but it was enough to slow it down, which allowed me to stab the other half of the branch into its skull. Made this horrible, horrible sound as it died. Seeing as we are eating, I will not imitate the sound. Not that I could, now that I think about it…”

Once again there’s silence. Even Daniela has quieted now, and is watching you with rapt interest, likely hoping that you’re hiding another story up your sleeves.

“So… did you guys actually think that I managed to run away from the lycan? Or were you under the impression that it simply got bored of me and left?” You ask, casually returning to your breakfast afterwards. No one says anything, at first, taking in your words as best as they can. A few moments later both Daniela and Bela resume their meal, as nonchalant as one could be in the current situation. Alcina, however, rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with a loving look.

“You will never cease to amaze me, my dear. But let us ensure you never have to… smell, or see, one of those wretched things again, yes?” She says, softly squeezing you as she does. You can’t help but agree, and nod eagerly, mouth too full of hashbrowns to speak. Still, there’s been a shift in the atmosphere of the room. It’s not that the family didn’t respect you before, as far as you can tell, but they evidently hadn’t expected you to prove as capable as you had. It brings a sense of pride to the forefront of your mind, making you completely forget about your injury for the remainder of the meal.

Unable to stop yourself, you insist on helping the other maidens clean up, and Alcina eventually agrees to let you wash a few dishes- as long as you stay sitting the entire time. The last thing you hear before you shuffle off to the kitchen is the start of a conversation between Cassandra and her mother.

“You picked quite a feisty one, didn’t you?”

“That I did, that I did…”

[nctsworld]

lucky strike

✩ renjun x reader | college au | fluff | friends to lovers | 2.3k 

SUMMARY ⇾ you ask to stay over at your friend’s place on campus for the night, which leads the two of you to realize your feelings for each other. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, kissing, roommate!haechan, haechan’s a little shit RATING ⇾ teen+ PROMPT ⇾ college au + fluff REQ BY ⇾ anonymous 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Tomorrow, you have a midterm at 6pm, then another at 8am the next day. Since commuting would already eat away so much of your time, you ask around in hopes that you could stay with someone on campus overnight to make your life easier. Unfortunately, most of your friends are either off-campus or don’t have the space to spare. 

Except for your friend in acapella club, Renjun. 

Knowing he lives on-campus, at the end of your practice, you explain your situation and inquire if you can stay with him tomorrow evening. You don’t think it’s a huge deal since you two have been friends for almost a year, yet his eyes widen at your question as the other members trickle out of the room. Despite his reaction, he doesn’t hesitate in his response.

“Yeah, sure. I have room at my place.” He stands up and lets his backpack hang from one shoulder. You do the same, but with a pleased smile now that your search is finally over. “Although... do you remember Donghyuck?” 

“Oh yeah, he sometimes drops in during practice, right?”

Renjun nods, “I’m sure you could tell how he is from those few times. Even though he’s my friend, he’s also a little shit and, unfortunately, my roommate.” 

The two of you begin to walk out of the room, shoulders brushing against one another, and into the open hallway. 

“I doubt he couldn’t care less if you’re coming over, but do you think you’ll be okay with him?” 

He scrunches his nose cutely in genuine concern, a habit you notice he often does during practice when frustrated. You chuckle, waving your hand and his worries away. 

“I’m sure I can handle him, Renjun.” 

Suddenly, the young man stiffens due to the arms that drape around his neck, dragging him into a hug. Although this isn’t the first time you’ve done so, he still freezes from the embrace. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you whisper softly into his ear, squeezing him tighter to show your gratitude. 

Because of your firm hold and how you’re cheek to cheek, heat rises upwards to Renjun’s face and ears. He ponders if you can feel his warmth on your skin, and if you can feel the knocking of his heart against your chest. Carefully, he hovers a hand over your back, fingers ghosting over your body to reciprocate the hug.   

“Yeah, of course.” 

“So, you like her?” 

Later that evening, Renjun informs Donghyuck of your upcoming presence in their apartment during dinner in said apartment. The latter’s question is expressed, which causes the noodles that are about to be devoured by Renjun hang in the chopsticks near his agape mouth. 

“No, why would you say that?” 

The roommate snickers at the defensive rise in Renjun’s voice before picking around the plate filled with grilled meat in front of him.

“Why would you let her stay over at our place?” 

The follow-up question stops Renjun once more from eating. The noodles continue to drip the soup base back into the bowl and splatter a bit of it around the table. The older roommate furrows his eyebrows and spews, “Because I’m a good friend?” 

Squinting eyes filled with doubt stare back at Renjun. He sighs, shaking his head. 

“Just be on your best behaviour tomorrow, yeah?” he says, finally stuffing his face with the noodles. The younger of the two sticks one piece of meat into his mouth and quickly adds a few more. 

“Mmm, no promises,” Donghyuck mumbles with his full cheeks, now shoving the white rice from his bowl into his mouth. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing!”  

The next evening arrives fast. After finishing your midterm, you rush on over to Renjun’s apartment and are greeted by his candied smile as he opens the door. 

“Hey, come on in.” 

While you’re removing your shoes by the front door mat, you peer around and find his place quaint. It’s a little run-down and not the most spacious apartment; you’re directly standing in the small kitchen and it’s only a few steps from the slightly bigger sized living room. However, there’s a balcony that oversees a nice view of the campus, a fireplace across from the couch and coffee table, and, for two college boys, the space isn’t as messy as you expected. 

“How was your midterm?” 

“Don’t ask,” you groan. “I’m not looking forward to the next one.” 

“Well, I’m sure you did well.” Renjun beams in comfort, but you’re too focused on taking your shoes off. 

You set your shoes aside, ensuring they’re not obstructing the doorway. Standing up, you ask, “So, where should I set down my stuff?” 

The host opens his mouth, ready to answer, but a familiar figure comes out of a room to cut him off.

“Renjun’s girlfriends always stay with him when they come over, so you can put your stuff in his bedroom—ow!” Your friend jabs his elbow into Donghyuck’s rib cage and you stifle a laugh. 

“Ignore him. Anyway,” you trail behind him, entering the living room. “If you don’t mind, I was thinking you could sleep on the couch. There’s also the fireplace, so it’ll be nice and warm and—” 

“It’s perfect,” you interject, halting Renjun’s rambling. “Again, I really appreciate it.” 

You touch his arm for a brief moment, smiling warmly at him, before you place your backpack down beside the couch. His hand grazes over the spot on his arm and he nibbles on his bottom lip. Then, a low rumbling occurs from your stomach.   

“Have you eaten yet? I’ve been dying to get food since the midterm.” 

“Not yet. Let’s go pick something up.” 

Also dying for food and dying to get away from his roommate’s existence, Renjun hastily turns around towards the kitchen counter to take his keys.  

“Can you get food for me?” Donghyuck chimes in. 

With his back facing Donghyuck, he shoves the keys into his jean pocket. “Are you going to pay me back?” 

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Then, no.” Renjun turns and flashes him a snarky grin. 

It’s not like sass and sarcasm didn’t exist in Renjun’s vocabulary, but it’s amusing to you to see him act like this outside of acapella club.  

Your friend and you begin to put your shoes on, but the third figure in the apartment whines and groans endlessly for Renjun to pick-up dinner for him. 

“If I buy you something, will you leave us alone for the rest of the night?” 

Your sudden offer and brazenness shocks Renjun, yet leaves an impressed smile on his face. 

Leaning against the wall, Donghyuck folds his arms against his chest and eyes you up and down. You hold your ground and stare back at him. After a long beat, he faces Renjun.  

“I like this one,” he comments and waggles his finger at you, as if you aren’t there. You roll your eyes, realizing Renjun really wasn’t exaggerating when he said that his roommate was a little shit. 

“Is that a yes?” 

The little shit nods, “Renjun will let you know what I want. You two lovebirds don’t take too long now!” 

You’re the first to step out the door, so you don’t see Renjun baring gritted teeth at Donghyuck, causing the latter to flinch out of reaction. Both of you exit the building complex, heading towards the pack of restaurants on campus. 

On the way out, Renjun makes a deliberate effort to not bring up the topic of being labelled lovebirds from before. You don’t bring it up either, so he assumes you aren’t thinking too much of it. 

Little did he know, it’s actually all you’re thinking about; his roommate just shined a new light on how you see Renjun. 

When you return to the apartment with food in hand, Donghyuck keeps his word and eats in his room, leaving both of you on your own. 

Perhaps it’s because of the seed that was planted by his roommate, but over the last hour or so, you’ve been hyper aware of how you interact with Renjun, and vice-versa—how at ease you are with him; how he makes you laugh effortlessly; how he listens intently, hanging onto every word you say; how his stare often lingers on you; how, despite having different majors and interests outside of acapella club, both of you simply click, fitting as one like a lock and key. 

Come to think of it, this is the longest time beyond practice you’ve spent one-on-one time with Renjun. Sure, you’ve hung out during get-togethers at other members’ places and at the yearly retreat, but being alone with him is different. It also feels right, as if you should do this more often. 

After the food’s gone, Renjun questions if you’re going to study more for the evening. You answer with a shake of your head, citing you’ve studied enough today and will likely do more before you sleep. 

You propose, “Are you busy with anything tonight? Do you wanna watch movies or something together?”  

“Sure. Anything in mind?” 

Pouting in thought, you reply, “I’m kind of in a Marvel mood. Do you like Marvel movies?” 

The grin that forms on Renjun’s face isn’t alien to you, but it produces a remarkable feeling in your chest, one that doesn’t come regularly to you. 

“I love them.” 

Sinking into the couch, you observe the host prepare one of the Avengers movies on the living room TV. When he’s done and sits next to you, he reaches for a remote, which turns the fireplace on, fittingly warming up the apartment on this cool, autumn evening. 

Your attention is on the movie for the first bit, but it begins to transition onto the handsome individual next to you. He’s so invested in the movie, even though he’s apparently seen it a million times. Your gaze sketches the outline of his jawline, absorbs the beauty of the nuances in his expressions, and then rests upon his hand laying on his thigh. 

Impetuously, you reach for him and hold his hand gently within yours. 

Like with your hugs, Renjun freezes upon your touch, but it’s even worse than those occasions since this time, he almost forgets to breathe. He blinks once, twice, before glancing down, not moving his head whatsoever, at the reality of your affectionate touch. When he peers up at you, you’re pretending to be fixated on the screen. However, your face says otherwise—your lips are pressed together in a simper, cheeks puffing out in nervousness. 

The hand-holding is awkward since your fingers aren’t laced together, so Renjun anxiously draws his hand away, fearful of wrecking the moment with the absence of his contact, then hurries to intertwine his fingers between yours. 

Neither of you break apart nor say anything throughout the rest of the movie, enjoying each other’s company and new level of intimacy in comfortable silence.  

As the movie ends and the credits roll on the screen, neither party on the couch hasn’t let go of the other’s hand yet. 

“Renjun,” You’re the one to break the extended silence in a delicate murmur. You recline and settle your head onto the curve of the couch. You blink at him and he follows suit, blinking back at you merely a few inches away. Your thumb rubs circles against the back of his hand. “I like hanging out with you.” 

His throat goes dry, so he gulps, then whispers back: 

“I like hanging out with you too.” 

It’s not a blatant confession, but both of you understand the underlying intention of your words. 

Your head cranes forward and meets his lips. The first kiss is a chaste one—very still, the pressure of your mouths pressed against each other lightly. 

After a bit, with your heads still laying on the couch, Renjun raises a hand to cup your cheek, deepening the forthcoming kisses. His lips are soft and smooth, his kisses tender and careful. You’ve only had a small taste, but you already want to drown in his kisses forever. Both of you lift yourselves off from the head of the couch and shuffle your bodies closer to one another, increasing the excitement of the budding affection. 

“Don’t mind me, I”m just getting—” Donghyuck gasps at the sight in front of him. 

At the intruding voice, one of Renjun’s eyes shoots open. He attempts to wave his roommate off, hoping he won’t ruin the moment.  

“I knew it!” he mouths, prior to grabbing a drink silently from the fridge. Respecting his promise, he scuttles off back to his room. 

Studying is a forgotten concept as the two of you make-out for the next few hours upon the couch. The crackling and warmth of the fireplace engulfs your bodies amidst the intermittent giggles and sighs. 

Eventually, you withdraw from his addictive embrace and prepare to go to bed. You decide it’d be best to keep to the initial arrangement of you sleeping on the couch. Renjun respects your decision wholeheartedly. 

But neither of you don’t say your last good nights until you’ve shared a few more kisses first.  

When morning comes, following a brief cram session of studying and you getting dressed, you knock on Renjun’s bedroom door. You open the door slowly, head peeking through to ensure you aren’t catching him in a state of indecency. A small smile creeps over your face, indulging in how adorable and angelic he looked as he slept. You shake him lightly, stirring him half-awake.

You drop onto your knees beside his bed, whispering, “Renjun, thanks for letting me stay over. I had a really nice time last night.” 

“Mmm, of course,” he grumbles, eyes barely open. 

“I’ll text you after, okay?” 

He groans mechanically in response, making you feel a tinge of guilt for disturbing his peaceful sleep.  

You give him a good-bye kiss, simply a peck on his lips, but when you rise and turn around, you don’t expect the sleepy figure to grasp you by the wrist, dragging you down for a more intense kiss. 

“Did you really expect to leave me with a kiss like that?” he mumbles into your mouth. 

You’re thankful to be on campus since the lecture hall is close by, so you have the luxury to stay for another ten minutes in Renjun’s arms, and you’re definitely going to be staying on campus a lot more often in the near future. 

[falcqns]

Hey, hey it's me ❤ I'm in the mood for some angst, hmmm, the girl is having a huge crush on Henry since they met and they are friends for years but on her thirtieth birthday he made a huge party and when she wanted to confess her feelings for him she found him with her best friend in her bed. Thanks in advance ❤

Amnesia

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: way too descriptive explanation of eating a piece of schnitzel off a fork (i got carried away), bratty!henry, slightly toxic!henry, violence towards women (slight), swearing, angst, alcohol consumption.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I wasn’t sure if you wanted a happy ending or a sad ending, so I wrote both! Hope you enjoy ❤️ I also listened to Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer while writing this, so it may be slightly based on that song haha.

You had met Henry at Comic Con in 2013, when you had gone to see his panel for Man of Steel, and got the opportunity to ask him a question. Your question intrigued him, and shortly after the panel, you were approached by Henry himself, who was also going to the Game of Thrones panel. He remembered you from his panel, and the two of you sat together. You spent the rest of the day together, and you ended up joining him and the cast of Man of Steel for drinks that night.

After Comic Con, you two stayed in touch through Instagram, and eventually you gave him your number. A few months later, your job relocated you to London, and he offered for you to stay with him, to which you accepted. You two were great roommates, and even better friends. But, this didn’t stop your feelings from blossoming.

Everything about him was attractive to you. From the way he always had a slight scowl on his face in the morning, giving you and Kal only grunts as responses until he had a cup of coffee, to the way he would get sucked into his video games and not realize over half the day passed by without him. You loved the way you could make him snort if he laughed hard enough, and that his sides were ridiculously ticklish. You adored how much he loved to cook, often calling you into the kitchen to taste his new recipe of the week. But, your favourite thing about him was how he treated you.

Even though you were not an actress, he never treated you as anything but an equal. He was always so interested in your work, and would always be the first person to congratulate you when you reached a goal you had been striving for. He was the one who brought you soup in bed and took care of you when you were sick without a second thought, and held you whenever you needed a good cry. Your friends often referred to him as your husband because of how much he cared and looked out for you. You never put much thought to it however, until your mom asked you if you two were dating when he joined you at a family gathering.

He had stood up to go and get himself a beer, and brought you back your favourite drink and some of your favourite foods on a plate without you even asking. He then sat next to you, and engaged in a conversation about NASCAR with your dad, uncles, and grandfather.

Your mom leaned over ad whispered in your ear, “Are you two together?”

You gave her an alarmed look, and shook your head vigorously. “No, mom, we’re not. Why?”

Your mom’s eyes drifted over to Henry. “You two sure seem like you are. Might want to talk to him about it, because the way you look at him as if he hung the stars and the moon specifically for you suggest different.”

You had shaken it off, and thought nothing of it until you were back at home the next night, and really thought about what your mom said. Did he like you, or were you just reading into things too much? You shook it out of your head, and rolled over to fall asleep.

But, when he called you into the kitchen to ask you to taste his attempt at making schnitzel for the first time, you thought about it again. You watched as he offered you a piece of the cooked meat on a fork, and you opened your mouth to accept it. You noticed how his eyes were glued to your lips as they wrapped around the fork, and how he slightly bit his lip as you pulled the meat off the utensil to chew it. You instantly smiled at the taste of the food, and Henry let out a breath both he and you didn’t know he was holding.

You told him it was delicious, and you watched how is eyes lit up in joy. He did a little happy dance, and instantly blushed when you giggled your way out of the kitchen.

The next time you thought about it was when you two were sitting on the couch, watching The Sound of Music, and you drifted off just as the Von Trapps were performing at the festival and escaping. Your head had called onto his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you like he always did. But then he did something unexpected. You woke with a start when he lifted you up, shifted his body so it was lying down on the couch, and laid you back down right onto his chest, you head coming to rest under his chin. “Thought this might be more comfy,” he had said, and you smiled and thanked him, before your eyes refocused on the movie, no longer tired.

You noticed all of these things, but you failed to notice how much of an interest your best friend had taken in him. He was never interested, he only had eyes for you, but he did notice.

He noticed how when he wasn’t in the room, and you were on call with her, she would laugh normally, but when he entered the room, she would laugh differently, as if trying to entice him with small, annoying and EXTREMELY squeaky giggles that made him want to claw at his ears. He had never taken a second look at her. He was head over heels in love with you, why would he look at your best friend when he could stare at the goddess of beauty that was you? He’d never thought he’d have a chance with you, so he settled to love you from afar until you found your person, at which time he would resolve to look for his. It wasn’t the healthiest mindset, but it worked for him.

When your 30th birthday had rolled around, Henry decided to be the loyal best friend and roommate he was, and throw you a birthday party. He and Kal decorated the house (more like Henry decorated the house and re hung the decorations that Kal pulled down while “helping”), bought a bunch of booze, and food, and invited all your friends (and your’s and his mutual friends), and your family, along with his (minus the children. Children and drunk parents usually dont mix well.).

He noticed throughout the night that you had become slightly more distant from him. Usually at parties, you would be glued to him like the sea urchin you had gotten stuck in your foot at age 10, but you gradually stopped seeking him out. Then, his eyes landed on you, talking to another guy.

A cold, sick feeling chill ran through his bones, and he instantly recognized it as jealousy. his first thought was how dare you speak to another man? But, then he remembered, that you and him were not together, and the guy had every right to talk to you. So, he headed over to the kitchen island which was serving as the bar, and decided to drown his jealousy in alcohol. His body would pay for that in the morning, but at that exact moment he couldn’t care less.

When you had stepped outside with aforementioned guy, he picked up the vodka and chugged as much of it as he could, desperate to get wasted. After a few more drinks, he felt sufficiently drunk. Then, your best friend sauntered up to him, and Henry was surprised to find that he could tolerate her for more than 30 seconds. The two of them struck up a conversation, and what surprised Henry even more was he didn’t push her away when she touched him, kissed him, or even invited him upstairs to “fool around.” Maybe alcohol wasn’t so bad after all.

You however, were having a great time. You and your friend Cody had stepped outside to continue your conversation, as Cody was pretty quiet, and the party was rather loud. You two had just stepped into the kitchen when you looked around for Henry to introduce him to Cody, who was a huge fan of his. You didn’t see him, but when you brought it up to Cody he just said, “Oh, I lose my boyfriend at parties all the time. He’ll be here somewhere.”

You two ventured around the house, but didn’t find a sign of Henry. So when you asked your mom where he went, you were shocked when she told you that him and your best friend had gone upstairs. You immediately raced upstairs thinking that you were going to break up a fight. He had never liked her, and often had to leave the room when you were FaceTiming with her, because she just “annoyed him to the point of wanting to pull an August Walker” he said. You’d always ignored it, because your boyfriends had never gotten along with her, and you just always assumed it was because she was protective over you.

But, when you walked upstairs and found his bedroom and bathroom, the spare bedroom and bathroom, and your office empty, you opened the door to your bedroom, and your heart instantly broke into a million pieces. He was butt ass naked on your bed, balls deep in your best friend, who was also completely naked.

You gasped, and Henry immediately stopped his movements and his eyes snapped to you. The widened, and he immediately sobered up before swearing. “Shit, Y/N.” He said, before pulling out of your best friend, and covering himself. He watched in horror as your eyes welled up with tears and you ran across the hall to his bedroom to lock yourself in. It was only in that moment that he realized he was in your room, not his. He immediately redressed, and ran across the hall to his room, and began banging on the door.

Your best friend scoffed at your reaction, redressed as well, and then joined Henry across the hall. “She’s just being dramatic.”

Henry looked at her confused. “Dramatic? She just caught us, her two best friends, fucking in her bed. She has every reason to be upset. She is not being dramatic.” Your best friend rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. “Then can you get her whiny ass out of there so we can finish what we started?”

Henry turned around quicker than Pietro trying to save Clint. “No. What happened shouldn’t have happened.”

She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot like a child. “So you used me?” Henry scoffed.

“I’d say you used me.”

“How?”

He stared at her in amazement at her sheer stupidity.

“You CLEARLY used the fact that I was heartbroken and drunk. You’re always seeking me out when I’m around, and you change from this person who seems barely tolerable to a complete and utter insufferable bitch.” He didn’t allow her to speak, instead pounded on the door.

“Y/N! Let me explain!” He begged, and tried to ignore the way he could practically hear your best friend roll her eyes beside him.

“No! There’s nothing for you to explain. You made your feelings perfectly clear. I’m just sorry that I wasted 7 years being friends and being in love with you just for you to fall for my ex best friend.” You heard both Henry and your ex best friend exclaim, but you didn’t listen to a word they said, instead grabbing Henry’s AirPods, shoving them in your ear, and turning your music on full blast before laying in Henry’s bed.

Outside the door, Henry and your ex best friend were in a straight up crazy bitch fight.

“SHE’S BEEN MY FRIEND FOR LONGER!” She screamed.

Henry got right in her face, and screamed right back at her. “I’VE CARED FOR HER AND LOVED HER FOR LONGER THAN YOU HAVE! YOU USED AN AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, LOVING, CARING, WONDERFUL WOMAN TO GET TO ME! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“SHE WOULD HAVE NEVER WENT AFTER YOU, OR EVEN ADMITTED HER FEELINGS! SHE’S PLAYING WITH YOUR FUCKING MIND! I SAW A FUCKING OPPORTUNITY TO GET LAID BY HENRY MOTHERFUCKING CAVILL AND I FUCKING TOOK IT! SUE ME!”

Henry grabbed her arm, and shoved her towards the stairs. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW! DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT CONTACTING HER AGAIN, BECAUSE SO HELP ME GOD YOU EVEN TALK TO HER, I WILL RUIN YOUR FUCKING LIFE! I’VE DONE IT BEFORE, I CAN DO IT AGAIN!”

She ripped her arm out of Henry’s grasp and slapped him across the face before storming down the stairs and out of the house. When he watched as no one even gave her a second look as she passed, he knew that everyone hated her just as much as he did.

He tried pounding on the door again, but you didn’t answer, so he resolved to just rejoin the party. It was painfully obvious that you needed some alone time, and he was more than willing to give it to you at the moment, he needed to cool down as well.

(happy ending starts here. If you want a SAD ending, click HERE.)

The party cleared out less than an hour later, and Henry took it upon himself to clean up. The mess wasn’t too bad, but the living room could do with a sweep and the garbage needed to be taken out. He had a feeling he’d be out the majority of the next day, and he didn’t want you doing anything. He planned on spending the rest of the day making it up to you once he woke up.

He finished cleaning, and set the garbage next to the front door. He might be a 6’1 burly ass man, but he wasn’t crazy enough to go out after dark, who knows what’s lurking in the shadows out there.

He searched around the house for Kal, and became slightly panicked when he couldn’t find him, but then remembered he had put him in his bedroom before the party started, because he gets too excited around big groups of people, and Henry didn’t need stains from spilt alcohol all over the house.

He grabbed the set of keys that he had for the doors in the house that locked. Your room, his room, the basement, and your office all locked, so he had made sure to keep them on the same key ring. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the door once more, but as he suspected, you didn’t answer. He unlocked the door, and was immediately jumped by Kal. He gave Kal some pets, and let him run down the stairs and out the doggy door in the kitchen to go pee. Henry walked in the room, and his heart clenched in his chest at what he saw.

You were curled up in a ball on his bed, with his AirPods in your ears blasting music. Your eyes were puffier than hell, with tears stains all over your cheeks. Originally, he was going to move you to your bed, but he had a feeling you wouldn’t be sleeping there until you burned the sheets and got new ones, so he pulled the comforter over you. He pulled his AirPods out of your ears and put them back in the charging case. He took your phone and plugged it in, before turning on his TV and putting on Family Guy for background noise while you slept. Kal came bounding up the stairs seconds later, and growled when he saw Henry standing close to you.

“Oh, you’re taking her side now?” Henry asked the pup. Kal barked softly in agreement before glaring at his dad until he moved away from you, and then hopped up on the bed gently.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I was an asshole, wasn’t I?” He said, glancing down at you once more. Kal laid his head on your hip, and growled at Henry again.

Henry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah I know. Your dad’s an idiot. I’m going. Protect her, ‘kay?” He said as he walked out of the room, and Kal huffed while snuggling closer to you and closing his eyes.

Henry closed the door, and felt his exhaustion and extreme drunkenness hit him. He looked at the stairs to his right, and decided against trying to walk down them. He then walked right into your open bedroom, and looked around. He had never really gotten a good look at your bedroom before, but he absolutely adored the way it was decorated.

You had done everything in your power to make it look comfy. You had faerie lights all over, as well as LED’s on the ceiling trim. You had a small sofa with various throw pillows and multiple comfortable blankets on it. You had a huge fluffy rug on the floor, and your bed had a insanely comfortable comforter, and a good 7 or 8 pillows on it, mostly throw pillows.

Henry pulled the throw pillows off the bed, and tossed them onto the couch, before climbing in. He was instantly overwhelmed by your scent. It was in your pillows, your comforter, even your stuffed elephant named Bubbles that you slept with every night. He hopped out of your bed once more, and brought Bubbles over to you, placing her under your arm and against your face. He went back to your room, and climbed in your bed, and fell asleep wishing you were in his arms.

The next morning, Henry’s body jerked awake at 5 am, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. He limbed out of your bed, before remaking it, and walking over to check on you. Kal jumped off the bed at the sight of Henry, and allowed him to come closer. He stopped at Henry’s feet and pressed himself against his legs, which signified he wanted some love.

Henry squatted own, and gave his fluffy boy some pets, and hugged him back when kal crawled in between his legs and rested his head on his shoulder. Henry chuckled.

“It’s gonna be fine buddy. Daddy’s gonna make it up to her, and maybe she’ll even agree to being your Mommy.” He said, and Kal licked his face before walking out of the room. Henry walked over, and climbed in beside you. He pulled you, into his arms, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You stirred, and tried to pull away from him when your eyes focused on his face, but he was too strong.

“I am so fucking sorry.” He whispered, and you said nothing as you buried your face in his neck, tears coming to your eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just, I was drunk, and in love with you, but I thought I couldn’t have you. I saw you with that other guy, and I just got so jealous. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I didn’t stop her. But, I should have.” He whispered, tears present in his voice as well. “Actually,” He said, pulling you closer and running a hand through your hair when he felt tears land on his neck. “I should have told you how I felt years ago. I should have told you how much I was drawn to you, and how much of my mind you occupy when I asked you to move in. I should have been honest the whole time, and I wasn’t. I am so fucking sorry, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you just give me a chance to show you how much I love you. Please,” He begged, and you slowly nodded.

Henry’s heart exploded into fireworks. He pulled you close against his chest, and ran his hand up and down your back. Henry continued to talk to you, but you drowned it out as you were lulled to sleep by his scent, voice, warmth, and love.

You didn’t forgive him yet, and he didn’t expect you to. But, he loved you, you loved him, and most importantly he was sorry, and you’d knew he’d spend the rest of his life proving that to you.

[copias-thrall]

Would it be alright to request some Papa IV x f!Reader? Like the reader is a very kind and sweet person and she has always supported Copia kind of thing? Maybe they’re having a whole day to themselves to celebrate?

Yes! Let’s get some more sweet Copia 😊 

They made fun of him and called him The Rat.

Terzo made him the butt of all his pranks.

Nihil undermined him at every turn.

Imperator pushed him to the point of breaking.

What you saw a man trying to do his best with his only flaw being an outsider within the Abbey walls, and in a place where actual hellbeasts were basically demon cats, were rats such an odd choice of pet?

You were fairly certain Copia knew the “Squeak if u like cheze” sign was taped to his back, but he just walked down the corridors anyway and let the Siblings and Ghouls chitter at him. You’d seen this man save one of the Abbey mice from a glue trap, and your heart just couldn’t let it continue.

So, you’d approached him and offered to remove the offending paper.

Copia, however, had just smiled at you.

“It is good of you to say, Sister. But let them have their fun, eh?”

He’d given you a slight bow and had gone on his merry way.

After that, however, Copia had warmed to you, often seeking you out so he could sit with you in the mess hall at mealtimes or chat theology with you on lazy Saturday afternoons.

When some of Terzo’s faction had started stuttering to make fun of Copia’s shyness with public speaking, you’d tried to shut them down. Not everyone was good in front of a crowd—especially when that crowd was hostile. All that did, however, was get them to double down and start calling you, "rat lover."

“Doesn’t it bother you, Cardinal?" you'd asked during one of your food dates. "It’s so…petty.”

But he’d just given you a fond look.

“It is of no consequence, dear Sister. Let them be thinking what they will.”

You’d learned all of his rats’ names and started smuggling them contraband from the kitchens.

Copia had you transferred from Imperator’s admin pool to work as his assistant.

“All this new paperwork!” He’s swept his arm across the stacks of his desk. “I thought I could be using a little help from a friend, yes?”

You’d inherently understood you weren’t there to file paperwork—you were there to tell him when to take a break, to replace his cold coffee, and to be a sounding board.

And you didn’t miss the way Copia’s mismatched eyes would look on you with adoration.

Well, you thought he was pretty neat, too.

When he’d been away on his first tour, you’d done your best to keep up with him. You had your other duties and your friends, but you tried to send him a supportive word before, during, and after each performance.

His missives back had grown fewer as the tour had dragged on, but each one had been effusive—if riddled with typos.

After the first tour, things had been different. Copia had come back from the road a glowing success…and in a tight suit that showed off his assets instead of his smothering cassock.

The tide turned, and while there were still his many detractors, gone were the days of “kick me” signs and farces.

You’d noticed a significant pay increase and an extra day off.

“But Cardinal! You need me here!” you’d protested.

He’d simply grabbed your hands and kissed each one.

“I do. And that is why you must be well-rested. Lots to get done. Now, shoo!”

And truth be told, the two of you had worked harder. Copia had spent less and less time in his study and more time attending meetings or at band practice or at weekend symposiums. You’d done your best on keeping his mountain of paperwork down to a molehill, but sometimes the two of you needed to work late into the night to meet seemingly arbitrary deadlines while you put your foot down and told the kitchen Ghoul that making some rigatoni past hours wasn’t going to kill them.

Of course, then you needed to put your foot down about Copia stopping long enough to eat the carbonara. Sometimes he’d growl at you, and you’d have to snap your fingers at him and tell him being hangry wasn’t a good excuse to be snippy with you; he was predictably contrite after he’d consumed a good portion, and you took his apologies as your due.

All of which is to say: you had Copia’s back from the get-go, and he knew you were always in his corner.

When he comes back from Mexico newly ascended, there are dozens of Siblings who want a piece of him. Some—like you—have been in his fan club since day 1; others jumped on the bandwagon during the final tour; while a few just see the razzle dazzle and want to shine too.

You’re in his study because you want to make sure everything is caught up before he comes back to work. You imagine that he’s going to spend a few days reaping the rewards of his promotion, and—while a part of you feels a little let down about not being a part of that particular party—you are genuinely invested in Copia succeeding.

So when the door bangs open, you’re startled to find Copia…er…Papa Emeritus the 4th striding into the room.

“Oh! Your Dark Excellency! I was just making sure—”

“How did I be knowing I would find you here, eh? Today is not a day to be working!”

“But you—”

He makes a shushing noise and reaches his hands out. They linger in the air between the both of you until he makes a “come here” motion with his fingers.

Tentatively, you curl your fingers into his gloved ones.

“We are taking the day off, yes?”

“W-we?”

Copia raises an eyebrow at you. “Sí. With who else should I be celebrating?”

You blush, pleased that he seems genuinely baffled.

The March air is living up to its reputation, so Copia leads you to one of the sunniest rooms in the Abbey. There, you find a picnic blanket set up with a picturesque spread of food, and Rain helping Mountain to position a bevy of potted plants around the area.

Copia clucks at them good-naturedly to leave. Rain gives you the thumbs up and Mountain just pats you on the head as they leave. (As Copia’s Girl Friday, you’ve had to backmanage his ghoulies as much as you’ve had to organize his report piles.)

When he gestures for you to sit, you arrange yourself comfortably in a big square of sun that’s streaming in from the windows. As you take in the meats, cheeses, sandwiches, and fruits that populate the corner of the blanket, Copia putters around with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses.

The whole thing is a little unexpected, but not unwelcome, and you watch him with fondness as he utters a Whoopsie when the cork goes flying at the ceiling and as he obsesses over making each glass level.

You two clink glasses with a Salute, both taking a modest sip.

“This is lovely, Cop—uh, Papa.” He’s all smiles. “But why me?”

His eyebrows draw together, and he tilts his head at you.

“Mia cara…who else would it be?”

You blush and shrug your shoulders, looking down at your platter. When he takes your hand in his warm, leathered one, you look up and get lost in his earnest, mismatched gaze.

“You are the most important person in my life.”

His thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“You are too sweet, mia cara. Helping an old man—”

“You’re not old—”

He tsks at you.

“Helping a person I am being. At my side even when you are in the knowing.” He taps his nose and winks. “Our little conspiracy of silence, yes?”

That Copia is not quite exactly the bumbling, nutty-professor he leads the rest of the Clergy to believe he is? Yeah, obviously.

He nods.

“And yet, you are by my side. Keeping my head on straight. Because you are wanting to.”

Because you saw the way he treated his rats, his Ghouls, and even Sister Imperator. He may have a dangerous ambition, but he’s not a dangerous man.

“I believe in you Papa.”

He gives you that fond look again.

“Well. I believe in you too, Sister.”

Copia lets your hand go and claps.

“Now! Let us enjoy this feast! Next up is a movie marathon where we enjoy our food comas, yes?”

You pop a grape into your mouth.

“Of course, Papa.” You give him a devilish smile. “How ‘bout you give the schedule so I can make sure we’re on track, hm?”

He blinks at you for a moment before giving you his little rat laugh.

“Ah, eh heh heh! There is my little taskmaster.”

“What would you do without me?”

He tosses a gape and just barely catches it in his mouth.

“I wouldn’t, cara. I wouldn’t.”

[mrslittletall]

saw your whump post, honestly the "I'm fine" screams Hornet to me, so it'd be cool to see that! - dooblebugs

Title: The Idol Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: Hornet & Little Ghost Word Count: 2.825 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30941981

Summary: After the Hollow Knight is freed from the temple, Hornet does her best to take care of the ones that are still left in Hallownest. Everything should be fine... until it isn't.

(Author's note:  @dooblebugs

I thought about using canon verse with “Almost everyone lives AU” or your Mer AU. But ultimately, canon verse won, because I still miss some context for the Mer AU. I hope you enjoy.)

Hornet opened her eyes and jumped on her feet right away. Her day would always start with hunting and gathering food, preferably before Hollow woke up and tried to move, and it was a whole other problem trying to haul a bug their size back into bed, especially when they rigorously ignored their wounds.

While Hornet trusted Quirrel and Cloth enough to leave Hollow in their care for a while, she always felt better if she could look over them personally. However, the longer she hesitated with leaving, the longer she would need to come back, so Hornet left the house in Dirtmouth they had inhabited for Hollow's recovery and went towards the crossroads.

The little pitter-patter of tiny feet next to her prompted Hornet to look down. Ghost had decided to accompany her again. They always would. She could tell them a hundred times to stay behind, they would never listen. For a vessel meant to be void of mind, Ghost was one of the bugs with the strongest will that Hornet ever had seen.

“You will still come with me, even if I say no, right, little Ghost?”, Hornet said, shouldering her needle. Ghost didn't nod or sign at her, they simply stared, with their unblinking, never changing expression. It was enough for Hornet to know that they wouldn't leave.

“Alright, but don't get into my way.”, Hornet said. At this, Ghost swung their nail and jumped in front of Hornet in a pose that depicted a challenge, then their nail went down on the ground in a strike, the swing of it breaking through the calmness of the morning.

“I know! I know! You've beaten me twice, but... I have gone easy on you.”, Hornet half hissed. It was a blatant lie and she knew it. The first time she had simply underestimated them (or she simply had become tired of fighting) and the second time... she had given it her all and they still had remained victorious. In a sense, Ghost was the new king of Hallownest, but they didn't seem to put any mind on the title. They didn't even seem to be wanting to be celebrated for being the saviour of Hallownest. They simply joined Hornet every morning for hunting and went off on their own afterwards, always coming back to play with their friends in Dirtmouth.

As the both of them jumped down the well, Hornet couldn't help but think about that there wasn't much to rule anymore. This kingdom was in shambles. It had been two weeks and the dried off infection still crusted the crossroads, too little bugs alive to care much about cleaning the place up. It was becoming more and more difficult to get food, because so many of the infected had simply been reanimated husks, without any meat left in them.

They surely would have to wander to Greenpath again, hopefully finding a few vengeflies and mosscreeps to bring home.

Hornet was used being alone. She had been alone for a very long time. She had managed. She never was lonely... well, maybe a little lonely and now there was a bunch of strangers up in Dirtmouth who relied on her. Hornet never wanted for anyone to rely on her. She had seen what happened when bugs relied on someone and... there wasn't a solution.

She looked down on Ghost again, they had their nail on the ready and stared vigilantly in front of them. They must have crossed this crossroads a dozen times on their journey, still expecting to be attacked by the infected every given minute. Hornet could understand that it was hard for them to let go of old habits.

She was the same. She never let go of her needle as well. Even with the infection never being able to come back, she had to remain vigilant. She would protect her siblings, no matter what. She wouldn't, no she couldn't, let anyone down.

“We are nearing Greenpath.”, she said, only to cut through the silence between them. She knew it wasn't Ghost's fault that they didn't have a voice, but after years of not being able to talk to anyone, Hornet barely could stand the silence, when there was someone she could talk to. “Remember, when we hunt the mosscreeps, take their leaves as well, for the herbivores.”

While Hornet was able to eat plant matter as well, it never had been satisfying to her. She was the daughter of a spider and a wyrm, both predators, and therefore she usually would hunt for food. She was unsure about what kind of diet Ghost and Hollow needed, but they seemed to be content with the prey she brought back, so she wouldn't change anything about it.

“And remember, we can't hunt too much. The population needs a chance to recover.”, she said as well. The infection had done a number on the whole of Hallownest... it wasn't a surprise that there was such a food shortage. In fact, Hornet had cut her own food intake in favour of her siblings and anyone who couldn't hunt or still needed to recover. That bug, Tiso, came to mind. Had a far too big stomach for having been utterly destroyed by the colloseum of fools. Why Ghost had dragged him back to Dirthmouth, she would never understand.

Ghost showed that they understood with a little nod of their head and the both of them entered Greenpath. It was a MUCH nicer place without the infection, but they still had to pay attention, the fool eater plants were easy to overlook (not that Hornet had ever overlooked them, but Ghost tended to forget...) and there were some predators still around, though they were no match for her needle. The problem was to avoid them to not hunt too much. Like she had said to Ghost, they needed to give the population time to recover, if they wouldn't want all to starve beforehand.

“We get only enough for everyone back in Dirtmouth.”, Hornet said again. “Then we leave again. Let's search for some mosscreeps first.”

The both of them jumped and slashed their way through the vegetation of Greenpath. While Hornet preferred to use her needle, Ghost had found a lot of new ways to move around since the first time they fought and they dashed (literally leaving their shell behind and somehow phasing through time and space) and jumped with wings that reminded Hornet of her father... and she got a bad feeling in her guts every time she saw them.

After a bit of time, they had managed to hunt two vengeflies to bring back, Hornet keeping them cocooned up for transportation and were now searching through the vegetation for some mosscreeps. Finally, Hornet found one and struck it down with her needle, preparing a cocoon for it again, when Ghost picked something up from the grass.

“Ghost, what do you have there?”, Hornet asked. The item was too small to be prey and they tended to hoard stuff they found. It probably was just something that was completely worthless nowadays, only generating Geo when given to this historian in the City of Tears. She still wanted to know.

Ghost came over and laid the thing they had picked up in her outstretched hand. When she looked down on it, she froze.

It was a King's Idol, the item that the citizens of Hallownest had crafted to worship her reclusive father. Each of them looked different, but they all shared the general shape and depicted his most salient feature: The horns that resembled a crown.

Staring down at it, something in Hornet broke. It might have been the stress she felt since Ghost had arrived. Or the fact that Hollow recovered from years of abuse from both the gods of Hallownest. Or that she was running on an empty stomach most of the time. But once she saw that thing, all her frustration crashed down on her at once.

You!”, she hissed. “It was all your fault! You knew that the plan wouldn't work! You knew that they would suffer and you still have let it happen! The teacher, the watcher, my mother, all sacrificed for nothing! And then, in the moment you were needed the most, you vanished, you damn coward! We needed you! I needed you! I hate you. I hate you and I can't even say it to your face anymore!”

Hornet threw the king's idol on the ground with so much force that it skipped on the ground and then fell on her knees, slowly getting aware of the tears on her face and the presence of little ice cold hands patting her arm.

“I am fine.”, she said, wiping the tears away. Just a moment of weakness, nothing else. Even though she could feel the judgemental stare of Ghost, she was fine. She had to be. “Seriously, I am fine.”, she continued once more. “Let's continue hunting.”

As Hornet was putting her composure back together, she didn't notice how Ghost continued to stare at her, picking up the idol from the ground, and only starting to move again once she called out for them.

The hunt had been more or less successful. At least they had found enough prey that nobody should go terribly hungry (at least when Hornet halved her own portion again). As usual, hunting had taken the better part of the day. Hornet would have liked to go hunt at some different locations, but the Old Stag from the stag ways wasn't around lately, apparently he was taking care of some personal business. With him not being around, it was just too far to walk to the Fungal Wastes or Deepnest, at least not when she wanted to come back the same day.

Currently Hornet took in her meal in Hollow's room with Ghost present as well. She was busy thinking about if there was another route that would make sure she could hunt elsewhere but Greenpath for once, when she felt a nudge. When she looked down, she saw how Ghost offered them a half of their mosscreep, holding the prey up in their little hands, seemingly eagerly awaiting for her to take it.

“I can't take this, Ghost.”, Hornet said. “You need all the food you can get, you are still growing.”

Ghost cocked their head and for once their eternal deadpan expression was on point. Hornet knew how ridiculous her argument was. Ghost had been born before her. They hadn't grown in years. Their body had been unable to grow because they didn't had access to void. “You know what I mean.”, she defended herself. There was the possibility that Ghost would start to grow as long as they stayed in Hallownest.

Ghost offered their meal a little while longer and then gave up with a little frustrated stomp of their foot. It was then when Hornet felt another nudge... this time it was Hollow, who had simply watched the scene unfold in front of them, offering their part of their meal.

“Oh no, not you too, Hollow.”, Hornet sighed. “You need the food much more than me, you are still recovering. I won't accept anything from you.”

The both vessels shared a look and once again Hornet asked herself if they could talk to each with some kind of void telepathy, before both of them looked at the ground in defeat.

“I am fine.”, Hornet repeated herself, she knew that. “Really, I am fine...”

Hornet awoke the next morning... not because her stomach cramped and she had trouble sleeping because of it, but because someone nudged her. She cracked one eye open and murmured: “It's barely morning...” She just craved to go back to sleep, to forget about the day in front of her for a few minutes longer, but the nudging got more and more intense, until she shouted: “Fine! I am getting up! Stop bothering me!”

It was Ghost in front of her and immediately Hornet stopped being annoyed. What if something had happened? “Is something the matter with Hollow? Or is a threat approaching the village?”, she asked, already fumbling for her needle, once again forgetting that Ghost was more than capable of defending the village themselves. They just looked too much like a little, defenseless child, even though Hornet had experienced otherwise.

Gladly, Ghost shook their head, though this put Hornet right back into annoyance. “Then why have you woken me up?”, she said, falling back down in her pillows, ignoring the urge to close her eyes and looking at Ghost again, making sure to give them a judgemental stare.

Ghost did grip something under their cloak (wings? Hornet never knew what this thing around the vessels was) and after a bit of struggling, they produced a jar... a jar filled with honey. The smell actually made Hornet's mouth water. Honey was one of the few things she liked to eat that wasn't meat, mostly because she had trained in the Hive in her youth.

Though, as lucky as she felt about having more food, she couldn't help but scold Ghost. “Ghost, did you get this on your own? The Hive is dangerous, even without the infection! What if the Hive Knight would have found you?”

Ghost shook their head and then outstretched their hand, showing Hornet a shiny little charm. A charm she remembered. The charm of the Hive. “Wait, you have been there and challenged him already?” Hornet wanted to be surprised, but Ghost couldn't really surprise her anymore. When they could surprise her somehow, then it was that they were full of surprises.

“Anyway... I guess I have to thank you, though I don't approve that you sneak out at night into the Hive.”, Hornet murmured. “At least we have more food for the group now..”

Ghost rigorously shook their head and pressed the jar in her hands. “For me?”, Hornet asked and Ghost nodded.

“But... Ghost, I appreciate it, but I don't need.. the others need the food much more than...”

Another shook of their head and a stomp of their foot along with crossed arms and a slight turn around. Hornet suddenly felt very small, she had never seen them that upset.

“Alright, alright...”, she said. “Maybe I have eaten insufficient lately...”

Ghost nodded again and gave the jar of honey another press, so that she had to hold it firmly in her hands.

“Alright alright...”, Hornet finally gave in. “I will take your offer, Ghost.”

As she opened the jar, her hunger became more and more apparent and soon she dug in and had finished the whole jar in what felt like no time and finally, for once, she didn't feel overly hungry. Satisfied even.

She then saw Ghost holding up something. A little rock with a few letters written on it. Lately Cornifer had given them writing lessons, though it still was a work in progress.

“Fine?”

That was the word they had painted on the rock (where did they even have the colours from?).

“I am fine.”, Hornet said. “This time for real. I am sorry, Ghost, I shouldn't have lied to you. I just feel so... responsible for everyone. I can't show weakness in front of anyone.”

Ghost shook their head again and then got something out. Hornet recognized it as the King's Idol they had found in Greenpath. They tossed it at the ground, just as she had done and then hit it with their nail, leaving a notable crack in it.

“You as well don't have the best memories of him, right?”, Hornet said. Both of them had been left behind, though in a different kind of way. Ghost had been discarded and Hornet had been left with responsibility far too huge for her age.

Ghost nodded again and gave the King's Idol another smack, so that it landed in front of her. Hornet took it into her hands and stared at it. She did miss him, that she had to admit to herself, but she also knew that her anger and her disappointment were real and there was no reason to hide it in front of Ghost.

She squeezed the Idol until it cracked into two pieces and just watched as they fell down. “Thank you, Ghost.”, she said. “But make sure to not tell Hollow about this.”

The way Hollow idealized their father... it would break their heart seeing his image being defiled like that.

Another quick nod and then Ghost actually got another one out, their face clearly saying: “Wanna break another?”

A grin crept over Hornet's face. She would never get her mother back or escape her responsibilities, but at least she could vent out her frustrations, even though it took her sibling for her to realize.

“Oh you bet I want.” (Author's note: Little Ghost is kinda fun to write. I think they are a character mostly showing what they feel through body language and it was fun to come up with how they would act. I also like to think that they can stare very judgemental, even though their expression never changes, a stare of them can make anyone falter. Hornet's relationship to PK is... complicated. He hasn't actually been a bad father to her, but as the infection came back and depression took over, he left her alone more and more and she got angry about it... especially when he decided to just vanish. She felt utterly betrayed by it and it is a huge source of her frustration and anger. I put in some little references to the game in there, try to find them if you please.)

[irradiatedsnakes]

Hey dude! Someone in a discord server found a bird skull and foot (they think it's an eider duck), and was wondering how to go about cleaning them. Do you have any tips?

ohhh, very cool!! absolutely i do, here's a copypaste of a writeup i did over discord messages a billion years ago for a friend:

firstly: the book vulture culture 101 is spectacular and a comprehensive resource on like, all of this stuff. the ebook's like $10usd. however heres how i go from whole animal or raw skull to bright n shiny clean skulls:

-if your specimen is whole/still has skin and fur, skinning them will save you a lot of time and hassle. takes less time to decompose, and you won't have huge globs of fur in the way (keratin takes much longer to decompose than flesh!)

-if your specimen is now skinned but has all of its meats, you can speed up the process somewhat by.. i cant remeber the word, but basically cutting the big chunks of flesh (like the cheek area) away from the bone. this i totally optional though i almost never do it myself, it just lower the volume of meat that needs to decompose

-now ok. youve got your bones with flesh on them, or maybe you found some nature-cleaned bones that still have some bits and bobs on em. if it's the latter, you might just be able to soak it for a day or two and then pull off any remaining dried bits with tweezers or your fingers (or needlenose pliers. much stronger) and then go onto whitening, but if there's still a substantial amount of flesh:

-find a container with a lid that is big enough to comfortably hold your specimen. i use a storage bin, but depending on how small your specimen is you can use, like, a tupperware container.

-find a space outside where a smell isn't gonna be a big deal. even with a closed lid, there'll usually be a few feet radius that radiate some death rot smell. also, might wanna see if you can keep it protected in some way, especially if you have turkey vultures or other smell-hunting vultures (or other scent-hunting carrion eaters) around. ive had vultures try to break into my bins multiple times! a good sturdy closing lid keeps em out though

-place your specimen into the container, and fill it up with water. you can fill it up enough to cover the specimen entirely, but also, if you have a particularly fleshy specimen you can make the water go up almost all the way to the top, and then leave the lid off your bin for a couple hours (if you know nothing will snatch your specimen! might wanna like, babysit it) to allow flies to lay eggs. maggots will speed up the process a bunch! but either way, place the lid on your container and put it in the safe place. oh! and preferably, you want it somewhere warm, like in the sun.

-now you just wait! this method, maceration, takes a long time! but it produces the best quality bones. now, this step will vary on time based on how much you have to decompose and how hot it is (and whether you have maggot help or not), but heat's the biggest deciding factor. this process works by decomposer bacteria eating up all the flesh, and they work best in the heat! if you're doing this in late fall or winter, prepare to wait til summer arrives for any process. if you're in the height of summer, it might only take two weeks! but either way, youre gonna leave this out for weeks.

-basically depending on the heat, check it when you think its done. you'll know its done by the lack of flesh. the bone might still look dirty- they often become stained weird colors in this part. it's no big deal, it'll go away in the next step. also, teeth will fall out now, because theres little no no soft tissue keeping them in place. thats fine, just keep track of them! pay very close attention to when you pour out the water. incisors are so easy to lose. (also the rotwater is great fertilizer!)

-ok! so it's a couple months later and you have a fleshless skull (or whatever other bones) but it's very stinky and not clean. firstly youre gonna wanna give it a rinse (outside. don't bring this into your home yet. it smells like rot) very carefully, as not to lose any teeth.

-you want another container big enough for your specimen, now. can be the same container if you clean it out very well, but i prefer to have dedicated rot buckets. you may need to degrease your specimen, or you can move straight to whitening.

-how do you know if you need to degrease? fatty substances in the flesh can be present in the bone, as grease. this will discolor certain parts of the bone (or rarely, all of it) and make those areas look yellowed and sort of oily. if it's just a spot or two and the discoloration doesn't bother you, you don't have to remove it. but if it's a substantial amount it's gonna make the bone look dirty, and in high amounts can also stink. not a rot stink, it's not nearly that bad, but a sort of musty smell.

-grease in the bone is most common in especially fatty animals. anything domestic is likely to have grease, as are very fatty animals like raccoons (raccoons have SO much fat. i skinned one once and its like, ridiculously big layer of fat under their skin.). ive personally had grease problems with coyotes and felines.

-to degrease, you need that container again, and some dish soap! preferably the clear stuff, you don't want to end up staining the specimen. put your specimen in the container and fill it up with water so its covered, and pour some dish soap in there. swish it round so its all mixed in, and put the container back in the warm spot. this process is also heat dependent!

-now you wait again. every two or so weeks, check, and maybe change out the water and soap. your judgement as to when its done. basically you just want those greasy spots gone when the specimens dry!

-next up is WHITENING! this is where you START if you have an already fleshless specimen! all you need for this one is hydrogen peroxide, the 3% stuff you can get cheap at any drug or grocery store. ive found that due to pandemic reasons the peroxide supply at a lot of places has been depleted, but it's mmmostly better by now. you still might have some trouble finding it.

-put your specimen in the container and fill with peroxide enough to cover it. it'll probably start fizzing! the peroxide reacts with organic bits like microscopic amounts of grease in the bone and like, cleans it out. leave it in for a few days to a week, then check.

-if it's still too yellow for your tastes, change out the peroxide and leave it in for another few days. (note, the bone will be more yellow when it's wet- it gets whiter as it dries) if it's white to your liking, take it out, and leave it on a paper towel to dry.

-once dry, you can glue your teeth back in. i use hot glue most of the time, because its very forgiving and easy to undo, but note that if you ever plan on putting the specimen into water again like to degrease it in the future, you might wanna use something like superglue instead. just be...very cautious of mistakes. once i put in my otter's canine tooth backwards. like, tip in the socket, root facing outwards. always do a test fit right before you put the glue on, so you know youve got the angle right so you can put it in right, before the glue dries. also, you only need a TINY bit of glue per tooth.

plus bird feet, depending on how fatty/fleshy they are, can also be dried by posing them and burying them in borax for a while! i do that to preserve chicken feet without skeletonizing them.

i would also ask them to make sure that their collection of this bird is legal- im pretty sure in places where the migratory bird treaty act applies (usa, canada, mexico, japan, and russia) eiders are protected, and as such owning their parts is illegal and can carry a very hefty fine. should be fine in europe, though, to my knowledge. eiders have a huuuge range :P

[yummyinmytwistedtummy]

Draconic Instinct: Malleus x Reader vore

So... this was originally going to be posted on the 7th for @twistedtummies2′s birthday, but I saw that they were having a rough time recently and decided to post it a bit earlier. I’m a little unsure about how this one came out but I’m gonna post it anyways. I hope ya’ll like it, and happy early birthday/happy easter @twistedtummies2.

I swear I didn’t mean to make it so romantic. It just kind of happened.

   There were hardly any words to sum up how you felt at this moment, but to say the very least you no longer envied ant man's power of shrinking on command. You supposed fictional characters couldn’t get vertigo but you certainly did and it wasn’t pleasant.

   Groaning, you sat up and held your stomach and head. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out what happened. The only thing you were left wondering was how and why it had happened.

   With awe and slight fear you gazed at the world around you and how different it was to when you weren't the perfect size to soak in a teacup.

   Everything was 10 times the size it had once been. Maybe even bigger. Bushes loomed over you, flowers were bigger than your hands, grass was like walking through a corn field, and when you looked up at the trees they were larger than skyscrapers. In comparison you were roughly the size of someone's palm. 

   Being shrunk definitely wasn’t on your bucket list, but NRC never really seemed to care about what you wanted. “Great, how am I gonna get back to the dorm now?” You huffed and placed your hands on your hips. 

   Several ideas came to mind yet none of them were actual solutions. You couldn’t walk, it would take forever. You couldn’t call anyone since your phone had cracked when it fell from your hands before you shrank. You also couldn’t ask Grim for help since he was already back at the dorm.

   The one day you actually needed his help he was sick because the little furball ignored your advice and ran out into the cold rain the night before. You sighed and looked at your surroundings again. 

   It was rather odd that you were shrunk today. Not that being reduced to a few inches tall was ever normal, but today was a particularly peculiar time to fall victim to more troublesome magic. 

   Today was your birthday. 365 days in the year and today was the day that something like this happened to you. At this moment your gorgeous beau was waiting for you back at the ramshackle dorm with some movies so you could cuddle up and relax together after a long day of school.

   Although you doubted Grim would let you have any alone time with the prince since he was so sick. A sick Grim was a clingy Grim. You didn’t mind as long as he was comfortable but you had been hoping to watch your boyfriend indulge in some ice cream later that evening. You still loved Grim but you were a bit bitter about the fact that your favorite bonding activity with your boyfriend was cancelled.

   Now you couldn’t care less about it as it seemed that you might miss the evening all together. A frown decorated your features and you grumbled unhappily about the situation as you began to walk in the direction of the dorm.

    You would never make it home in time, but there was no use in standing around and pitying yourself. As you walked you tried to recall anything out of the ordinary that had happened during school. Besides the birthday wishes and occasional presents, everything checked out.

   Maybe it was someone’s unique magic. You hadn’t seen anybody around as you were walking home but then again you weren't really paying attention either. Apparently you weren’t paying much attention now either as you hadn’t noticed the giant teen approaching you until it’s shadow fell over your very tiny figure.

   You looked up and gasped. A very large hand was reaching down to grab you, which had been the cause of the shadow. You did what any sane person would do and tried to book it. The giant hand was faster.

   “Let me go!” You shouted angrily, but stopped when you were swung upwards in a way that made you worry that you were going to lose your lunch. “Oh boy…” Even after the ride was stopped you felt dizzy.

   “Well, well, well, lookie here. The high and mighty prefect of the ramshackle dorm!” A smug looking face appeared in your vision and you had to hold back a scream.

   The giant in front of you was the owner of the hand that had plucked you from the ground. He was dressed in a Savanaclaw uniform and resembled a bear. His smirk displayed two rows of sharp teeth that in any other situation would make you swoon. Right now though your fear conquered your kink.

   “Got ‘em good there Bazz. Aw look at ‘em all tiny and trembling. Hahaha!” Another student who you didn’t recognize came from the side and sneered at you. “What a weakling. Hardly fit to be called a prefect, especially without any magic.”

   Oh… That’s what this was about. You glared at the two men and started struggling. “Put me down you oafs!” It had been a while since you first arrived at NRC but it seemed that some people were still insistent on bullying you about your lack of powers. 

   This wasn’t the first time that other students had decided to pick on you. People sneered and called you names in the hallways all the time. It wasn’t hard to ignore them after a first few weeks and soon you began to think that they were just words. 

   No one had tried anything like harming you so far, but it wasn’t entirely out of the question. At a villain school it’s generally to be expected. It was why you so often only travelled with others. Your fellow students that you had established relationships with and trusted accompanied you back to the ramshackle dorm most days. And if they weren't around, Grim was usually there to take care of you.

   Except for today.

   You were in no way a weak individual, however it was much harder to defend yourself when you were 5 inches tall.

   The second student, a Scarabia student from the looks of it, had a curly mop of red hair and cheeks spotted with hundreds of freckles. His eyes were a light blue color and his crooked smile revealed good dental work. He would have been more attractive had he not been leering at you or practically peeling apart at the seams from sunburn.

   Bazz, the bear manimal, had dark skin and medium length black hair. His eyes glowed yellow as he smirked with teeth so disgusting they almost matched his eyes.

   Several more students, from nearly all the dorms, crept out of the shadows and surrounded your initial two captors. The color drained from your face and you willed yourself not to tremble as a series of horrific opportunities entered your mind.

   “Oafs! Ha! We aren’t oafs, you're just a shrimp!” The group laughed and you glared at them with as much malice as you could muster. “Not that name calling ever does anything.” Bazz drew your attention back to him. “We had hoped that by telling you that we didn’t want you here, you would get the message and scram. But some herbivores just don’t get it, so us predators, both physically and magically, have to teach you where you belong on the food chain!”

   You gaped and let your eyes widen. Did these buffoon’s know who you were? That you had saved their arses on several occasions, both from others and themselves. You weren’t super buddy buddy with Leona, (cause he’s a pain and doesn’t like you very much anyways), but he still seemed to care about you enough that he didn’t want you to die. At the very least Ruggie could still get some free chore help out of you.

   And if Kalim and Jamil found out what one of their students was doing they would both be unhappy, angry even if he actually managed to hurt you. There was also the deal with Azul, situation with Riddle, and the show Vil put on as well. Truthfully there were so many reasons that they shouldn’t hurt you. It was almost shocking that they still wanted to hurt you after everything.

   One thing you did notice was that there wasn’t a single Diasomnia student in the bunch. That comforted you a minor amount. At least no one in your boyfriend’s dorm disliked you enough to go behind their dorm leaders back in order to get rid of you.

   “G-guys, let’s just t-talk this out.” You held out your hands in hopes that you could calm them into a negotiating state. “Listen, you don’t want to do this really. So if you could just turn me back I’m sure we could work somethi-”

   “Shut it, meat!” the savanaclaw barked at you. The noise made your ears ring and you held your hands over them to muffle the loud shouts. “Heeheheehe… is the little herbivore scared. That’s alright no need to be shy, I like it that way.”

   The circle of boys surrounding you, howled with laughter and you cringed from the stimulus. 

   As the laughter died down, Bazz looked at you closely. “Scrawny thing like you would have barely made a meal full-sized. Guess we’ll have to kill you the old fashioned way instead.” You gasped and began to thrash in his grasp as some of the students whistled. 

   “Bazz, you should feed her to yer snake!” “Bazz! My little sister’s been looking for a new doll to dress up!” “Bazz, hey! My dog needs a chew toy and that thing is the perfect size.”

   Threatening ideas that all promised a painful demise bounced around the group, each one more horrific than the last. The scarabia boy looked like he was about to lose it with laughter and Bazz watched you struggle as if it was the most entertaining thing in the world. No one noticed the clouds above head slowly circling and becoming denser. 

   “Alright alright! Hey everybody shut up!” Bazz, who you had concluded was the leader by this point, shouted at his lackeys. “I’ve decided how I wanna kill ‘em.” he said darkly with a smirk. An almost crazy look came to his eyes and he turned you so you were on display for the whole group to see. 

   “This little magicless shit and their raccoon thing have been plaguing this school for too long. I saw we knock out two birds with one stone and get rid a both of ‘em at the same time.” he paused for dramatic effect. “We’ll coat this one in tuna and leave it for the racoon to eat, and when he’s finished we’ll tell the headmaster and he’ll be expelled!”

   The group cheered and you moaned in utter exhaustion with a dab of hopelessness. Why was this school so ridiculous. You swore one day these imbeciles were gonna set the school on fire and when they turn to you for help, you were just gonna roast marshmallows and watch them panic. 

   A part of you was scared of course, you knew how Grim got when it came to food, but there was no way he wouldn’t notice you. Besides you weren’t really all that nervous anymore now that you noticed the sky.

   Dark clouds swirled around and flashes of green lit up the sky momentarily before dying down. Malleus was obviously looking for you and he was obviously not happy. Moments after you realized he was coming a massive lightning bolt struck the ground only feet away from where the pod of students stood.

   You screamed and shut your eyes as pain lit up behind them. You were swung around as the bear man protected his eyes as well and nausea took over you temporarily. 

   Even after you opened your eyes, only blackness filled your vision. Luckily you could still hear pretty well and relief flooded your veins when you picked up the voice of your boyfriend.

   “Hmm… it appears a bunch of scoundrels have decided to pick on my darling. Unfortunate as it seems, I am at fault for letting them walk home alone. Please return them and I won’t harm you.”

   Malleus was a frightening person to be up against, however the number of other students seemed to give them hope. “Not happenin’” You heard Bazz growl. “I caught ‘em so their mine!”

   The dark fae stiffened and you inhaled sharply. Thunder boomed and some of the students appeared frightened for a moment before attempting to return their expressions to confidence. They failed miserably.

   Malleus’ eyes widened before slanting dangerously. His pupils which were already slits, thinned out in an even more reptilian like way. His cape billowed around him as the wind picked up as a result of his rage.

   Being possessive doesn’t even begin to cover how Draconia feels about you. To him you were the most magnificent treasure in his entire hoard. The shiniest most beautiful precious gem he owned and his mate. After many many years of near solitude, Malleus had come to appreciate your company more than he could describe with words. Hearing another try to claim you ignited the fire in his belly and drove most logical thought from his mind. 

   The only thing he was thinking about was getting you back to him, completely unharmed. You supposed this might be the reason that the next events were so seemingly out of character for him. 

   He growled threateningly and the students took a step back. Two of them ran for it and one looked like he was just about to. Bazz and the Scarabia student stood stiff and nervous but didn’t back down. 

   Your eyes finally adjusted and you watched as a pomefiore student foolishly took a step forward. As first years they had practically nothing to use against the dark prince, who waved his hand and a gust of wind blew the student over like he was made of cardboard. 

   Malleus obviously wasn’t in the mood to play, yet he didn’t take out the students just yet. He decided he would show them something. “Bring my treasure here!” he snarled. Bazz shook but didn’t comply.

   “Fine, be that way.” the half dragon snapped his fingers and you were effortlessly teleported into his hands. You knew from experience that he could only do that to smaller objects so you supposed it was a good thing that you were shrunk.

   “Malleus!” You cried out and looked up at him with relief. His eyes momentarily flashed with the familiar adoration that he used when he gazed at you everyday. They turned dark again when the Scarabian boy shouted, “Hey! We caught that little rat so it’ ours. You're gonna have to fight us if you really want to take them!”

   “I will.” his voice was eerily calm as he stared them down. “In due time, but first,” he raised a finger and you squealed when he lifted you suddenly. “I need to tuck my treasure where it will be safe. I wouldn’t want my mate getting damaged or having to see the gruesome mess I am going to turn you into.”

   Confusion etched itself on your face but quickly shifted into understanding. Scared understanding, but understanding no less. “Umm… Mal… I don’t think-” 

   “Shh…” he quieted you and smiled at you softly. Despite your fears you nodded, giving him permission to continue. 

   The two of you had discussed this before, as he was well aware of your interests, however you had both decided that it wasn’t the time yet. Now, apparently was the time as you found yourself hovering over him in anticipation of what was to come.

   You glanced to the side and saw the last 4 students’ faces undergo the same transition yours did except they appeared much more horrified. Squirming, you looked down and gulped when Malleus gave you one last comforting look before stretching his jaws wide beneath you. 

   A flush crept onto your face as you gazed down into the open maw of your boyfriend. His teeth were sharp like spikes waiting to clamp down and tear through anything that he decided to consume. Each dip and crevice of pink pulsing flesh was oozing with clear slime. The back of the throat was illuminated by a strange green glow that came from below. Hot, stale breath washed over you and blew your hair slightly.

   Nervousness and anticipation spread through you as you were lowered into the large mouth that you realised resembled a sort of odd cave. His long forked tongue curled around your torso tightly as it carefully pulled you past the sharp fangs and into his mouth. The action was weirdly comforting as you picked up on his concern for your wellbeing. 

   Soon you were pulled completely into the slimy maw and watched, mildly afraid as the jaws shut, sealing off your exit. The tongue unwrapped itself and slid over you instead, prodding and feeling as it tasted you. It particularly enjoyed any part of you that wasn’t covered by clothing. And as your shirt was pushed up slightly so the tongue could lap at your midsection, you felt and heard Malleus humm in delight.

   You squirmed and giggled as the tongue continued to tickle you as best it could. It pulled back suddenly when a loud groan echoed up from below, telling Malleus that it was time to eat. He had never been one to deny himself of food if it was within appropriate terms so he tipped his head back and you felt gravity shift as he began to swallow you.

   The fae grunted and swallowed thickly, using a finger to trace your form in his throat. He scrunched his face as you sank slowly down past his chest, which he thumped in order to speed up your journey. And finally he felt you plop into his stomach.

   You panted for breath as the ride down had been far too tight for your liking but almost immediately gagged when you were hit by the horrid stink of whatever meat and sweet dessert Malleus had eaten last. 

   The gut around you was fairly large and spacious compared to the size you currently were. The walls pulsed and throbbed as they sensed you in their space. It was almost as if they were trying to locate you. That’s when you realized they were. 

   A high pitched whining sort of sound alerted you to the fact that your boyfriend was checking to make sure if you had made the journey safely. Quickly you trudged through the sludge, which tingled your skin when in contact, and placed two hands on what you assumed was the front wall of the stomach. 

   You could see due to the eerie glow in the stomach but you weren’t quite sure which direction you were facing. You received an answer when a handprint pressed against you in a comforting manner. 

   “I’m alright!” you called, “Don’t worry about me!” The stomach lining tensed and you heard Malleus growl, “Impossible!” You blushed and smoothed your hand over the slimy walls in appreciation for his undying concern for your wellbeing. 

   Outside, the remaining two students who had failed to flee when they saw Draconia swallow his lover whole, trembled in their spots. Both whimpered when his gaze turned towards them and fixed with a cold and dangerous stare that promised pain. 

   “You!” the dark prince seethed, “attempted to take my mates life!” His voice raised and lightning flashed behind him. “And for that, you will pay dearly!”

   You were flung backwards into the sludge as you felt Malleus jerk swiftly as the fight began. He pointed his staff at the two buffoons and muttered an incantation under his breath before a large jet of light blasted towards them. 

   Both jumped out of the way just in time for the laser to scorch the ground where they had previously stood. 

   They looked at each other fearfully and then back at Malleus. Scrambling, they attempted to stand up and fight back, but neither were successful as they were suddenly blasted by another powerful spell. 

   Your boyfriend smirked wickedly as he watched the two students deform and shrink until there was nothing left but two large rats screeching panickedly in the grass. “You’re lucky my mate disapproves of murder. Otherwise you would be in hell right now!”

   Lightning struck again and Malleus vanished from his spot, leaving the, now rodents to scamper off into the woods, hoping the spell would wear off. 

   Flickering lights flew around the room as its owner appeared out of thin air, transported home with magic. He sighed and leaned his staff against the wall with a huff. You were quiet as you listened to the dark mage begin to undress enough to leave his midsection exposed. 

   He gently sat down on the bed and you gripped the stomach wall to remain balanced. He leaned back and grunted, placing a palm over his stomach. “Darling, you are still alright?” his voice sounded slightly strained and you raised an eyebrow.

   “Um, yes, yes I am.” he sighed in relief. “That’s good. In that case please do excuse me but-” you didn’t hear him finish his sentence before the air around you thickened momentarily before rushing upwards in a loud blast.

“GRRRRWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRP!!!!!”

   You gasped and felt your legs weaken beneath you. The large eructation bellowed around you and seemed magnified from you being inside of him. 

   Malleus moaned softly. His eyebrows drew together and he sat a bit straighter on the bed. “My apologies, darling, it appears you gave me quite a bit of gas.” He muffled another burp, which rumbled deeply in his throat and blew the fetid air out the corner of his mouth.

   “N-no need to apologise.” you said hesitantly. You were very aware of your boyfriend's aversion to rudeness, however, your interests didn’t care much and you always found yourself shaking at the knees when he let loose a bit. 

   He smirked and rolled his eyes at your reaction and wished he could see your no doubt adorably blushing face. His hand rubbed large circles over his stomach and a low purr like sound began to rumble through his chest.

   You trudged over to the wall again and placed your hands against it. He pressed back lightly in conformation that he knew you were there and you smiled fondly as you began to rub the stomach lining.

   He let out a low croon and you felt him sink into the bed. You could almost see the look of pure delight that would slip onto his face anytime you massaged his belly. If only you knew how much better it felt to him now that you were applying your ministrations from inside.

   Malleus hummed softly and peered down at his stomach with a loving and satisfied gaze. You were safe. Away from those bullies who he would further deal with later once you weren’t around to stop him with morals, as most humans had. Safe, warm, delicately tucked away inside of him, where nothing and no one could get to you. 

   His most valuable possession, most treasured jewel, most worshiped treasure. His mate. HIS! The instinctual possessiveness and protectiveness had died down a bit now that he was back in his ‘nest’ with his mate, safely stowed away in his stomach. Now feelings of regret and guilt began to fester within him as he thought about how he hadn’t really asked for permission before swallowing you.

   “Darling?” you stopped rubbing and looked up, not that you could see him, “I… I wanted to say I’m sorry…”

   You made a confused face and pressed against the lining a bit. “Why?”

   “I’m sorry for several reasons, actually.” he sighed. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you in the first place. I’m sorry that I didn’t prevent such an event from happening. I’m sorry that you were scared and in danger while you were under my care. I’m also sorry that I ate you…”

   He paused and you cocked your head. “It’s… it’s a dragon's instinct to protect their valuables no matter what. For you… in such a position… I felt that you were too exposed, too vulnerable. Even if I had placed you in a pocket there was no guarantee that you wouldn’t get hurt. What I was sure of was my ability to protect my own body, so I decided to temporarily add you to it.”

   The dark fae wrapped his arms around his midsection and frowned. “Oh darling, I hope you can forgive me.”

   You stepped back from the wall and swung your fist at it as hard as you could. He was unable to stop a magnificently large belch from erupting past his lips, which you were quite delighted about but shoved those feelings to the side. You had caught his attention, so now it was your turn to speak. 

   “Malleus Draconia!” you said sternly, “If you think for one minute that I am going to let you blame yourself for something entirely out of your control then you’ve got another thing coming to you.”

   The half dragon stared in shock at his gut and let his jaw drop. 

   “It is in no way your fault that those jackasses decided to pick on me. In fact it was bound to happen sooner or later so it was only a matter of time. Besides you can’t be with me 24/7. It’s just not possible. So you stop being sorry about it this instance or I am going to give you the gut ache of your life!” You kicked his stomach again to prove your point and he released a deep burp into his fist. 

   “HHHHRRRRRMMMMMMMRRRRRLLLLPPPHHH!!!!”

   “Oh and another thing,” you started, “I have no idea why you would be sorry in the first place, since you saved me.” He paused and knit his eyebrows together as he thought about it. “You saved me Malleus. I’m safe. I’m safe and I’m not scared or unhappy or hurt in any way. I’m safe and in fact I’m also quite content.”

   The half dragon sat up in surprise. “Yes, that’s right.” you continued, “I am enjoying this experience deeply. True it would be a bit nicer if you could stop repressing, but I know how you feel about that. So don’t feel bad that you swallowed me to keep me safe. You probably could have swallowed me just to add some fat to your thighs and I would still be in heaven.” 

   He growled at the suggestion of him killing you, even if you would appreciate it due to your twisted sense of what's arousing and such.

   You chuckled and restarted rubbing his stomach lining. “Malleus, I love you. I trust you and your decisions. If you need to do something to keep me safe, even if it did make me slightly uncomfortable. I would still love you just as much.” 

   He began to purr again and sighed. “Thank you darling. I… I suppose you’re right.” he paused. “I love you too. So very much, and because of that, along with the fact that it is your birthday… I will indulge you as much as you like.”

   You paused and gasped. As much as you’d like…? You almost shook with excitement and Malleus chuckled, sensing your joy. “Shall I start with the usual?” You nodded vigorously, then realized he couldn’t see you and blushed in embarrassment. “Yes I would like that very much.”

   Malleus smiled at your enthusiasm and waved his left hand, conjuring a bottle of soda. He much preferred to drink from a glass and have his beverage stored in glass bottles, but for simplicity's sake he decided it would be alright to drink from a regular two liter.

   Another wave and he had sound proofed his room. Something he found himself doing often since you had begun to come over. 

   Carefully he unscrewed the bottle cap, wary of it potentially exploding. You heard the hiss of air being released and backed up against the wall in anticipation of what was coming next. The next sound you heard was a series of thick squelches and some fizzing accompanied by the noise of liquids rushing downwards. 

   Soon enough a waterfall of sweet, sugary soda cascaded through the open valve above. You squeezed your eyes shut and hissed when it splashed you as it hit the stomach bottom and mixed with the acids that pooled there.

   The liquid level around you rose steadily and you heard it bubble and hiss as it frothed incessantly upon exposure to the heat in Malleus insides. The pressure in the air doubled until it became almost too thick to breath. 

   By the time Malleus had finished the bottle, the liquid level had risen past your hips and rested just below your waist. He pulled the rim of the bottle away from his mouth and panted. Almost hesitantly he replaced the cap on the now empty bottle and placed it on the bedside table. 

   “Alright darling,” he grunted, “I’m HURP!- hah… I’m ready. Give it a good kick.” Almost immediately he felt a sharp pain in the side of his middle as you gave the inside of his gut a fierce blow. His stomach groaned loudly and the air pressure thickened harshly before Malleus opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest, deepest, longest belches you had ever heard.

“BWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRP!!!!!!!!!!!! - HACK!!!”

   It came to a close after a sheer 14 seconds of filling the room with its hellacious stench. The paintings on the walls had rattled and shaken in its wake and the bottle fell off of the table it was placed upon. 

   Your ears rung and you were sure your nose was bleeding by how intensely hot you felt. Your whole face turned a lovely shade of crimson almost as dark as Riddle’s hair. 

   Malleus gasped and moaned, letting his head fall back on the pillows. Despite his favor for elegance and manners he could never deny how simply incredible it felt to release a large amount of pressure from his stomach. 

   He puffed out his cheeks as he felt another massive burp roll up his throat.

“HHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRP!!!!!”

“BRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP!!!!”

“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLCH!!!!”

“BRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOORRRP!!!!!!!!!”

   Several more belches, all magnificent in size, erupted past his lips and echoed throughout his bedroom. You moaned and listened as your boyfriend continuously burped without restraint. This was a once in a lifetime experience and you intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

   Finally the burps tapered off and Malleus groaned, rubbing his throat which stung a bit due to the power behind the eructations. He looked down and realized that while busy emptying his stomach of gas, he had also hacked you up. 

   The ride up had been short and tight but you hadn’t been paying all that much attention when it happened so you couldn’t say for sure if it had been uncomfortable. Rolling over on his stomach where you happened to end up, you smiled loopily up at him and he flushed looking you over.

   It made him feel nice, seeing you so small and content. While you were in danger he hadn’t gotten the chance to appreciate how simply adorable you looked, being this tiny, or how delicious.

   Malleus’ stomach growled disapprovingly at having lost its new favorite snack but he ignored it in favor of muttering a short incantation which quickly cleaned you of gut gunk. Now clean, you stood shakily since his midsection was bloated a bit, and tried to walk over to your boyfriend's chest. 

   You ended up falling over, since it was slightly like walking on a waterbed that wasn’t totally full. Malleus chuckled and you saw his eyes flash a bright green before your perspective changed rapidly. 

   It was only moments later that you found yourself, full sized once more staring into the captivating eyes of your beau. 

   “Hello darling.” he spoke softly. “Did you enjoy yourself?” You nodded rapidly and he sighed wrapping his arms around you. His hand gently runs over your hair and you let your head sit on his chest. 

   The sound of his heartbeat fills your ears and you sigh. It was quite a relaxing sound, but you still preferred the low burbles that his stomach provided. The two of you lay this way for a while, simply enjoying the presence of each other. However Malleus eventually shifts underneath you and whispers your name.

   Curiously you look up at him and he beckons you closer. 

   Closer. 

   Closer.

    Your lips touch in a brief kiss and he pulls back with a smile. “I have a birthday gift for you, but first.” He loosens his grip so he can sit up, positioning you in his lap. You shiver in anticipation when he gazes down at you greedily. Finally he leans forward enough to lick a stripe up your cheek and bite your earlobe teasingly.

“HHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMLLLLLPH!!!! - Phoosh”

   As he pulls back he suppresses a thick belch and blows the leftover fetid gas into your face. Your eyes water and you cough while inhaling deeply at the same time. You opened your eyes and Malleus could have sworn he saw hearts in them.

   “Thank you…” you breathed and he smirked. “Mmmm… as delightful as it is teasing you and getting to see...” he flicked his tongue along your lips, “taste your sweet blush. I do have an actual gift for you.”

   He moved so you could see the table where he had previously placed the soda bottle, and lifted a hand in a swift motion and whispered a few words. Suddenly a large ice cream cake appeared with a scrawled “Happy Birthday” on top. 

   The ice cream appeared to be chocolate vanilla swirl, and the frosting on top was vanilla. Decorative chocolate thorns encircled the cake’s base and had been arranged to appear as if they were climbing the dessert. Just above the wording a candle in the shape of a spinning wheel sat delicately. The spindle part was engulfed in a small green flame that danced almost eagerly as it waited to be blown out.

   You gasped and turned back to look at your boyfriend in surprise at the complicated cake he had (ordered you presumed) gifted you. The overly large size and ice cream part didn’t slip your notice and you had a feeling this night's adventures with your interests were far from over.

   “And one more thing.” Malleus spoke hesitantly, as if nervous by the next gift. He waved his hand and a small box appeared. He handed it to you and you opened it carefully. Inside sat a silver ring that had been made so detailed it looked as if it had literally been woven together with several tiny vines of thorns. Right in the middle of the ring was a small emerald which flashed in the candlelight.

   Your eyes widened and you glanced up at your beau who looked as if he was holding his breath. “It’s to signify our relationship. It’s not an engagement ring, it is meant to be worn on your right hand.” You watched as he gently slipped the ring onto your right hand. 

   In the valley of thorns we have something similar to the gallagh ring that you told me exists in your world. Instead of wearing it a different way depending on your relationship, the gemstone in the middle turns black when you are single. It turns the color of your partner's eyes when you are in a relationship, and when you become married it permanently changes to that color and the band turns gold.”

   He explained how it works in a quiet voice while you admired the pretty ring and your hand held in his. Malleus pressed a kiss to the ring and looked at you nervously. “Do you like it?”

   You threw your arms around him and smiled wide. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received. Thank you so much Malleus.” You pulled back still smiling, he sighed in relief and smiled back. “That’s good to hear.” he looked like he was about to say something else but was interrupted by a loud growl that came from his stomach.

   “Sounds like you’re hungry. Why don’t we eat some cake?” he smirked and tightened his grip on your waist just a bit. “Hmmm. you mean, you eat some cake and I eat all the rest, only to end up with a big bloated tummy for you to rub?” You blushed fiercely. 

   “Yes, I do believe that sounds like an appropriate way to end the evening.” He leaned forward and kissed you once more. “Although you will always be the sweetest treat I have ever had the pleasure of tasting.” You giggled. “I love you too, Malleus.”

[cienie-isengardu]

Lin Kuei: food

RELIGION <> ORIGINS / ARCHITECTURE <> FOOD <> FOR THE LIN KUEI <> ART <> CRYOMANCERS <> LIN KUEI SOCIETY <> MONEY & MATERIAL GOODS

The continuation of the morgianesffs-blog’s awesome list of questions about Lin Kuei. I initially divided them into smaller categories and the food will be the subject of the essay.

For the formalities, the original questions:

Food.  What foods do they normally eat? What foods do they like?  What foods don't they like? What foods do they absolutely love so much they'll stop what they're doing to get it?

I guess the Lin Kuei take on food may be stricte pragmatic one - they eat what is available. Preferable something that will keep them in top shape but everything will do, if necessary. Self-sufficiency and the art of survival are part of training so Lin Kuei would not have any second thoughts about eating stuff that people normally would not even think about. At the same time, there is a big chance that every adepts to some degree suffered from hunger and thirst, either as a part of punishment or test for endurance or a simply lack of skill to catch (steal) the food. I doubt the clan cares to feed warriors any fancy food, even more since the Lin Kuei headquarters (Temple / Fortress) is usually located in a harsh environment in which food is hard to grow to begin with. Because of this natural disadvantage, hunting seems like a good additional food source. It fed the clan but also gave opportunity for adepts / warriors to show their skills and gain experience (or in case of coming back with empty hands, bring them shame?). MK: Armageddon had the ice beasts marauding through the Arcika region - killing them could provide: food, furs, maybe some magic ingredients and safety.

Also, Lin Kuei knew about and used portals leading to Outworld - one of old comics, Battlewave #5, outright says the clan had a hidden passageway.

So the Lin Kuei could also get food from different realms, either by stealing the necessary stuff or as payment.. I kinda think that Lin Kuei has a system of related villages that serve the clan and satisfy the material needs like food and clothes. Maybe they pay tribute to the clan out of fear or maybe it is a more symbiotic deal? 

Anyway, I don’t think the clan would spoil their people with any fancy food to keep the rigorous discipline in check - albeit the clan could put on a suitable feast in honor of a respected guest/client like Shang Tsung if the occasion required it. At the same time, I don’t think it is forbidden to taste new dishes once the warriors were on mission. Especially not on a long-term kind of job when clan members must pretend to be normal human beings.

Because of that I suspect that those warriors who work undercover in various parts of Earthrealm and/or Outworld may indulge in eating all sorts of food, from expensive to the cheapest trash food. Whatever the budget / occasion would allow them, at least. And who knows, maybe the warriors like to challenge each other to eat the weirdest possible food, as some sort of courage test? Or just for personal fun? You know, like many young people do taste the freedom once they are on their own, far away from a strict “family”? 

At the same time, in times when there is not enough food, I can see the best parts or full portions being given to the most useful / essential members so the position in hierarchy may influence what and how much warrior is allowed to eat. Because let's be real here, (the old) Lin Kuei does not have a good track with empathy for weaklings. 

Now, I’m gonna head into headcanon-ish territory, so keep that in mind, please.

I know it is a pretty popular joke (included even in the game itself as part of “friendship” finish moves) that Sub-Zero likes ice cream but honestly, I do think that cryomancers in fact prefer cold food over anything else.

(Human hybrid) Cryomancers are said to develop their powers as an young adults(*) and growing the freezing skills with passing time (which Bi-Han being the exception to the rule because he developed ice ability earlier than usual), so the older they get, their bodies are more and more adapted to hold the toll of cryomancer nature (like temperature dropping to negative degrees?). So getting inside them anything remotely warm sounds more like torture than feeding. 

(Of course, it could be the other way, as needing the hot food to keep cryomancers from freezing from inside but the drastic temperature differences are not human-friendly. First aid in case of frostbite even cautions against heating the body too fast with too high a temperature to avoid negative effects. Which is why I’m sticking to cryomancers preferring cold food over anything warm)

The cryomancer kids may be less sensitive to the difference between temperature of their bodies and eaten food / drink - though I suspect cryomancer genes should not be dismissed even at such young age - but in all fairness, I can’t imagine Bi-Han or Kuai Liang eating anything else than raw food, preferably not touched by fire or at least deep-frozen / cold and ice-creams are both cold and can provide necessary minerals / calories to keep them going. 

So yeah, I can totally see Bi-Han and Kuai Liang buying dozens of ice-cream boxes for breakfast, dinner and supper like it was the normal thing in the world. And probably keeping various deep-frozen foods in the fridge and eating it raw. To Tomas, Sektor or Cyrax’s horror, whoever was unlucky to be stuck with cryomancers on an undercover mission. Okay, I lied. Bi-Han would probably just send others to do the shopping so he would not need to deal with annoying people.  

Bi-Han and Kuai Liang are capable of eating and drinking hot food because they were forced to learn that. That is why Kuai Liang was capable of brewing tea and why he used such a ceremony as a sign of good will toward Hanzo Hasashi even though drinking hot tea is, by nature, painful. 

As for taste, I think both Bi-Han and Kua Liang like plain flavors. Especially Bi-Han with his minimalistic nature. Kuai Liang seems more willing to taste different food and drink under Smoke’s challenge or suggestion. Ice creams may be the exception but less because cryomancers care for taste in itself and more because they are okay to eat any flavor as long as it is cold and available. Otherwise, they may just freeze various liquids (water, milk, juice) and eat them as ice creams. Something that actually could be pretty frustrating for other warriors if they left a carton of milk out of sight for a moment only to find Bi-Han or Kuai Liang freezing it and eating its content with a spoon. Because of that, the idea of coffee or tea with milk could be problematic (controversial) matter. Bi-Han accepts only Hydro’s need for milk added to coffee or tea - once Hydro gets it, the rest of milk is a fair game. And Cyrax seems to be bold enough to guard any open carton of milk or juice and keep it out of reach of Bi-Han, especially if he was the one responsible for shopping.

(Also, if Bi-Han even decided to smuggle the outside food for young Kuai Liang, I think it wouldn’t be anything sweet. More like frozen french fries just to tell his little brother how earthrealm people eat it heated up. Just imagine the shock and outrage of little Kuai Liang at the human stupidity!)

Comics!Hydro, as a close companion of Bi-Han is the most used to weird cryomancers eating habits. Because of water-related powers, Hydro likes everything liquid or with liquid consistency - soups, broths, jogurths, smoothies, everything will do. Somehow not really into meat. Also, the one advantage of such power is that Hydro can feed on water if necessary. 

In contrast to cryomancers, I imagine Tomas actually likes deeply fried or smoked stuff. Because without a fire there is no smoke and I like to think Enenra draws energy from fire / heat. Except the moments when Tomas is triggered by something from his past - then the smell or taste of burnt / burning meat (skin, hair) disgust him completely. May actually not like ice creams. Otherwise, he likes Czech food or in general, Central European / Central Eastern European cuisine because its taste is one of few things he remembers from his previous life. This is Tomas’ comfort food.

For me, Sektor with his obsessive behaviour is the one that tries to balance his food and reject the idea of eating anything for fun or out of curiosity. He wants to be in perfect shape and does not care for taste at all. To some degree, he also worries about how the foreign food will affect his strength, weight or body shape when on a long-term mission. The same as Bi-Han, Sektor is the last person that should be sent on shopping. However in case of the older Sub-Zero the problem lies in his abrasive nature and how he doesn’t conform to social norms (thus standing out too much) while Sektor won’t buy anything unless he reads the whole ingredients list and all additional information put on the package. Which means a shopping trip that takes like 10 minutes at best for other warriors usually takes Sektor around two hours, at least. You send him alone to shop for food and you are going to be hungry for the next few hours.

Considering how Cyrax is the most normal (balanced) Lin Kuei, he probably has the most healthy approach to food. Will eat anything that looks good, including fast foods ‘cause why not, it is cheap, edible and takeaway. And trust Cyrax to convince Sektor to eat that damn food too (the trick is to not let Sektor read what is - or is not - inside his meal). I don’t think Cyrax has a favorite kind of food because he doesn't like to limit himself. The same as Smoke, he may miss cuisine from his homeland but the general idea is to enjoy small pleasures like eating good food with companions.

Also, Cyrax is the only one that should be trusted with a shopping list if the Lin Kuei group for some reason ends in a shopping centre. A shopping list and the control over the trolley.

(Frost, like Bi-Han and Kuai Liang is all about cold / frozen food)

(*) From Mythologies Sub-Zero: “Sub-Zero learned of his ability as a young adult [...]. The ability to harness the element of cold is one that takes years of practice. It's full potential realized only by those who've mastered it at the latest stages of life. Sub-Zero's skills have the ability to develop much faster than those of the other Lin Kuei.” The fact that Bi-Han A) learned of his ability as a young adult and those B) develop much faster than usual at least suggest most modern cryomancers get their ice powers rather as grown up.

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Be My Palentine

Dwayne x Reader

Word Count: 3,145

Summary: You're new to Santa Carla and end up at the boardwalk on Valentine’s Day. You don’t have any romantic plans and end up people watching with a handsome stranger for the night. 

Only one box was left to go and then all of your stuff would officially be out of your car and in the new apartment. Everything still needed to be unpacked and put away, but it was a small victory to get it unloaded.

With a heave you climbed the stair that lead to your second-floor unit. Having a top unit was nice because you would have to worry about noisy upstairs neighbors, but the climbing and lifting was a tiring workout.

Inside of the apartment you dropped the box of clothes on the bedroom floor with a heavy thump and twisted side-to-side, stretching out your back. Orange-pink light filtered in mutedly through the window, the sun close to setting. Your stomach growled angrily and, finally having a moment to relax, you realized that you hadn’t eaten anything since a late breakfast earlier in the day. The empty fridge and bare cabinets made the decision to eat-out a simple one to make.

Being new to town, you weren’t sure where was good to eat and where wasn’t so you drove around. It was a lot easier to drive without being surrounded by boxes that were piled high. Eventually, you ended by down by the beach, the bright lights of an amusement park having caught your attention. Where there were rides, fair food stalls were bound to follow and you pulled into the decently full parking lot.

You walked past a security guard on your way to the boardwalk entrance and told him hello, a polite smile on your face. He looked very confused but waved back none the less.

Note to self: Midwest niceness was not all the rage in California.  

A savory aroma hung heavy in the night air and tickled your nose. Unable to resist, the trail led you to a nearby taco stand. Perusing the menu board that was handwritten in colored chalk, you ordered some tacos de tinga. As a treat, you asked for four of them.

Not only had it been a long day of moving ally by yourself, it was also… Valentine’s Day.

And, well. If that was the case, it seemed only logical that you would have to treat yourself extra hard to make up the difference.

Tacos in hand, you wandered looking for a place to sit and it was impossible to miss the mass amounts of red and pink heart decorations that were plastered up and down the boardwalk. Not to mention the happy couples that made up the majority of the crowd that night. Love was definitely in the air as the saying went.

Still motivated by the treat yourself mindset, you hopped in a line for the next food stall you saw, which wasn’t difficult considering there were sellers on every corner. You went even bigger than four tacos and asked for a vanilla milkshake and a funnel cake with the works. The desserts smelled friend and sugary sweet with the strawberries, delicate powdered sugar, and picturesque whip cream on top of it.

You were so excited to dig into the food that it took a second to realize that weren’t any open spots in which to sit. The tables and benches were filled by the aforementioned couples out to celebrate Valentine’s Day. The only two options you found were the sidewalk curb or a wooden hand rail with thick posts.

Seeing as you didn’t want t run the risk of being stepped on should you sit on the ground, you opted for the rail; its posts were thick enough to support your weight and you could set your plates down. So there you sat, enjoying the tacos and taking a pull of milkshake every few bites, the funnel cake patiently waiting for its turn on the side.

You swung your legs leisurely, munching on one of the tacos and pouted when you were too slow to catch a stray piece of meat that popped out of the end of the tortilla. It landed on the ground in a regretful splat.

You sighed and looked at the people passing by. There were people everywhere and your vantage point on the rail, which lined one of the busier sections of the boardwalk, meant that you got to observe them all. Happy couples were all around, each lost in their own happy, little worlds. It must be nice.

A sudden scream drew your attention and your head snapped to where the sound came from in time to see some girl slap her boy across the face. She proceeded to beat him with a large stuffed prize that had likely been won at one of the games.

Well, most seemed to be happy.

She threw it at him and stomped away, clenching her fists. The guy didn’t have time to collect himself before she marched back to grab the stuffed animal and left again, for good that time.

Even though you knew it was rude you were unable to stop the snicker that escaped. The universe was funny about paying things back, however, and it was your laugh that ended up attracting unwanted attention.

You were reaching for the last taco when an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Startled, you quickly glanced over and saw a jovial blonde. “Check it out, dude. Someone stole our spot.”

Another blonde appeared on your other side. The newcomer was also blonde except he had tight ringlets and a colorful jacket. “You’re right, Paul.” He turned an impish smile on you and poked your shoulder. “There’s a toll you have to pay for sitting here with us, you know.”

You broke eye contact and turned forward, hunching your shoulder inward to become smaller. Being alone in a new, unfamiliar city without any family or friends to guide you, the last thing you wanted was trouble.

“Sorry,” you said keeping both eyes fixed on your shoes. You scooted from the edge of the rail intent on leaving and made peace with the fact that you would have to abandon the milkshake and funnel cake. They were blocked by the boys and you didn’t want to grab them if it meant that they would have another excuse to touch you. Luckily, the taco remained with you.

“No, come on, stay. I promise that we’re good boys,” pouted the first one. His friend said nothing, choosing to bite his thumbnail instead.

Somehow you were rather unconvinced of that, judging by their actions and teasing. Lowering your head in an awkward good-bye motion, you moved to leave only to run smack dab into yet another boy. Taco didn’t it make it that time and slipped through your surprised hands.

Cool fingers gripped your wrists, stopping your fall and hoisted you back up on your feet, a bare, brown chest greeting you. He said something but you realized too late that you hadn’t been listening to his words so much as ogling his displayed body.

You asked him to repeat himself and the two behind you started giggling. An annoyed look from Tall, Dark, and Shirtless quieted them and he asked if you were alright. Where you had felt the need to get away from the blondes quickly, the brunette had a patient presence that made it easier to talk.

“Umm, yeah. I’m good. Sorry for taking your spot, I’ll get out of your way.”

He held fast to your wrists and the three boys had a wordless exchange. The silence started to drag on and none of them seemed like they were willing to back down, causing a prick of warning to flare in the back of your mind. The whole thing was…weird.

Just as you were about to insist on leaving, the blondes conceded, ending the battle of wills.

“Have it your way, big guy.” Curls got off the railing and walked towards the flow of people. “Come on, Paul,” he called back with a toss of his head.

Paul was fast to follow and stopped to pat Dark’s shoulder with familiarity confirming that they were on friendly terms despite the stand-off. “See ya later man.”

He winked one last time at you and said, “Bye baby,” before they disappeared, becoming two more anonymous bodies in the crowd.  

The pet name was in-character from what little you knew of him but was still unexpected and left you frozen in place with the remaining boy.

“Sorry,” he murmured with an awkward head bob not unlike the one you gave his friends. Hmm. Maybe this one wasn’t as bad as the others, or at least better than the others at controlling himself. He was certainly easier on the eyes.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t know you guys had this spot claimed,” you reassured him.

He went over to the railing and inspected it, going so far as to drop to his knees to examine it underneath. He was silent during the whole thing yet it still felt dramatic and over the top. It was confusing but you didn’t want to come off as rude by questioning him.

“Hmm. Don’t see our names on it. Means anyone can sit here.” He pointed at your food that sat untouched. “Looks like you were in the middle of something so I’ll leave you to it.”

You watched him go to presumably meet up with Paul and Curls, and a seed of loneliness took root in your heart.

“Are you hungry? We can share! It’s the least I can do,” you added politely. Normally, you’d be too intimidated to make that kind of an offer, but you could really use a friend and he had a calming aura.

Brown eyes perused you in consideration. “We don’t know each other,” he said at last.

You were quick to introduce yourself. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you…” you held your hand out and paused, waiting for his answer.

“Dwayne,” he said shaking your hand firmly.

Content that he’d stay, at least for a little while, you settled back on your impromptu seat and he perched next to you, one of his knees bent so his foot rested on the bar. Pieces of sauce covered cilantro from the taco you dropped earlier made a mess on his shoe, the green standing in stark contrast to the black fabric of the Converse.

“Ope—I’m so sorry about that!” You shoved napkins at him which he accepted slowly.

“They’ve been covered in worse,” he shrugged in explanation.

“If you’re sure…” Socialization was off to a lackluster start. Coming from your former town, where you’d had the same circle of friends since grade school, had clearly taken a toll on the ability to make new friends. 

Thoughts raced with the desperate need to seem likeable. The only thing came out of your mouth was, “Milkshake?”

It turned out that the worry was unnecessary. Dwayne was naturally a quieter personality so he wasn’t bothered when the conversation lulled; he was happy to small sips of the milkshake while people watching with you.

Every once in a while, the two of you would exchange commentary over particularly interesting persons that you observed. You started the conversation each time with an excited, “Look over there,” and though Dwayne never spoke first, he had no problem offering his opinions.

“Ope, look at that guy’s shirt! It’s definitely festive.” The guy in question wore a pink Hawaiian style shirt with red hearts plastered all over it. The design seemed cheesy to you, but his girlfriend seemed to like it as they walked by swinging hands.  

Dwayne gave it a once over and also declared it, “Cheesy.”

“Girlfriend seems to like it though, that’s what matters.”

Then he shocked you with what he said next. “Do you think he has matching underwear?”

You coughed around the bit of funnel cake in your mouth at the moment. When you managed to swallow, your eyes shone with a mixture of disbelief and mirth. “Dwayne! I can’t believe you said that.”

He pushed his hair behind his ear a sheepish little expression on his face. You leaned over conspiratorially and whispered, “Do you know what would be even more disturbing? If he’s not wearing any at all.”

That got him to crack a small smile, nothing more a tiny lift at the side of his mouth, but you counted it as a victory.

Of course, not every comment was aimed at poking funny fun at people.

You got up to throw away the empty shake cup—you didn’t trust yourself to throw it even though a trash can was only two feet away—and saw a middle-aged couple sharing fries at a table.

They weren’t hanging all over one another, but the love they had was unmistakable, especially when the woman reached to clean off a wayward glob of ketchup from the man’s mouth. She shook her head in exasperation but then the man said something that made her smile, showing that she wasn’t as bothered as she acted.

You went back to Dwayne with a dreamy face. “They’re cute. How long do you think they’ve been together?”

“A long time,” he responded. “You can tell by the way they move.”

“That’s the dream,” you said wistfully.

“So. When did you move here? What’s your story?” he asked neutrally.

“Is it that obvious? That I’m not from here?”

“You said sorry four times in the first five minutes of meeting me. No one does that here.”

Done in by your behavior once again. Being overly apologetic was common occurrence back home but things were clearly different out here. “What makes you think I have a story?”

“Everyone has one.”

“Point taken. But I promise mine’s nothing exciting.” With that you began you tale.

Despite stereotypes about the region, you had lived all of your life in an urban Midwest town and not on rural farm. Family life was traditional with two loving parents and annoying siblings that always had your back nonetheless. You had a close group of friends and did well in school. There wasn’t much to complain about and you never saw any reason to leave your hometown.

Until you took a trip to California the previous summer to help your cousin move to L.A. Now, there was a lot to see and do in L.A., and you were pleasantly overwhelmed by it all. Especially when you saw the ocean for the first time. That trip got you thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d be happy living there as well.

Fast forward to the start of the new year you were resolved to move to California. Santa Carla was a beautiful oceanside town that hooked you in at first glance, in spite of the crime and violence that regularly occurred. When you found a decent apartment, you took it without hesitation.

It was coincidence that the move scheduled for Valentine’s Day weekend, but it couldn’t be helped. And even though watching romance abound at the amusement park left you wistful, you were not interested in jumping into a relationship any time soon.

“I think I need to just enjoy this new life and get to know the area better, you know?”

Dwayne bless his heart hadn’t interrupted you once during the whole tirade. He was the perfect listener. Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from apologizing once again. “Sorry. Told you it wasn’t interesting.”

“Don’t be sorry.” With serious eyes he added, “I think life in the Midwest sounds fun.”

You laughed for the first time since moving. Mirth swam in his dark eyes. “Well, maybe not fun but a nice change of pace. It seems slower and more peaceful out that way.”

“I suppose it has its own charms,” you hummed. “You’ll have to go yourself someday, see if you like it as much.”

He grinned at the suggestion but offered no further comment.

Then to your surprise a young child abruptly launched himself at Dwayne, more specifically his legs. “Dwayne!”

He looked young, no more than eight or ten years old and was obviously very attached to the brunette. For his part, Dwayne looked every bit as attached and patted the boy’s head before initiating a secret handshake with a series of shakes and hooks that ended with a high five.

The presence of the kid drew out softer, more vulnerable emotions from Dwayne that you’d be unable to up to that point. It was cute. You decided you rather liked it. You may have been rusty at making friends but it looked like your ability to judge character still worked fine.

“Hi there,” you offered with a small wave.

The two broke apart and Dwayne helped the boy up onto the hand rail so that he sat in between the two of you. “This is Y/N,” he explained, pointing at you. Then he pointed to the boy, “This is my brother, Laddie.” Interesting name.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Laddie.” The brother title also surprised you. Sure, they dressed similarly with shaggy, long hair and dirty jeans, but that where the comparisons stopped. If they were each other’s family though, you weren’t going to question it.

He glanced back at Dwayne who nodded at him in encouragement. “It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N/,” he stuck his hand out so that you could shake it.

“You’re on your way to being a gentleman, Laddie. Your brother is teaching you well.” The comment left him bashful and he ducked his head down but not before you saw his smile.

Introductions done, Dwayne’s brows furrowed. He mused Laddie’s hair to get the kid’s attention. “Hey, why are you by yourself?”

“The guys went with some people to eat, and Star didn’t want to do anything fun so I came to find you.”

His dark brows remained furrowed. “You shouldn’t go off on your own. It’s not safe.”

Laddie kicked his feet and didn’t say anything. Being reprimanded by a cool, big brother couldn’t have felt nice. Hoping to lift his spirits, you handed him the last of the funnel cake. “Here. You can have the rest.”

“Gee thanks!” He took it without hesitation.

Dwayne snorted and got up on his feet, helping Laddie down alongside him. At that point, you’d forgotten that he was still shirtless. “Come on. Let’s go find Star so she knows you’re okay.”

You checked your watch. “I need to go too. I didn’t realize it was this late. Do you want to hangout again sometime?”

His face didn’t give anything away but you waited in hope that he would agree. Finally, he did and you couldn’t be happier.

“Thanks for being my palentine,” you waved in farewell.

Behind you, Dwayne sounded confused. “The guy from Star Wars?”

“That’s Palpatine, you dummy!” Laddie laughed delightedly and you joined in the laughter even as you moved further and further away.

Perhaps this was the start of a friendship.

_______________

A platonic treat with Dwayne for those not interested in Valentine’s Day. He’d be great friend material if you managed to win him over. And I couldn’t resist adding that Star Wars humor at the end. Thanks for reading!

[ko-fanatic]

Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary:

Mondo Owada, the Ultimate Bodyguard, is entering a four year contract with one Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Idol. It makes sense, two Ultimates put together for their high school careers, and he could use the steady pay check to send home to Daiya; those medical bills were a bitch, and it was his fault the accident happened in the first place.

It was supposed to be easy, guard the cutesy, clean-cut idol from perverts and stalkers, no big deal! However, the world's perception of Kiyotaka Ishimaru was far different than what the young idol had become. During the first few months before even stepping into Hope's Peak, he's more worried for the young boy than he's ever been for anyone before.

TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs

The hallways of this damn building were too long.

That was definitely the first impression Mondo got, being led down said monotonous hallways by a young woman with an expression which implied that she simply wasn’t paid enough to care about small talk. Not that he had any room to judge, hands shoved in his pockets and a permanent scowl on his face. He might’ve been going to review an upcoming contract, but the best thing about his position was that there was no need to be all smiley; Hope Peak’s choice for Ultimate Bodyguard was all the credentials he needed at this point. 

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how long he would be working with these record label types. He couldn’t deny it made sense - hire the Ultimate Bodyguard to protect the Ultimate Idol, sound logic; it was just that a four year contract was… a lot. That wasn’t even thinking about the fact he was going to be glued to the guy’s hip for all that time, having to get along no matter what. Would he even have time to make friends of his own? Doubtful. Still, a paycheck was a paycheck, and he’d have to go to some highschool anyway, so kill two birds with one stone. 

He’d never had an issue smiling through vapid celebrity bullshit before. It was going to be an easy ride, too; from what he knew, the guy was as prim and proper as they came. Real boy next door image. Easy to take care of, and mainly just telling overzealous fans to back the fuck up. Simple. 

His inner monologue was broken by an abrupt stop, the woman only sending a bored glance his way before knocking. The door was pushed ajar with the quiet muttering of “Mondo Owada to see you, gentlemen”, before he was unceremoniously shepherded into the room. 

It was just as big as you’d expect from a building like this, with a gargantuan desk and several business-types sitting across from him. They were even backlit by a floor-to-ceiling window showing Tokyo in all its glory - like some cheesy ass movie. Still, taking a cursory glance around the room, he couldn’t see anyone fitting the description of “teen idol”, let alone Ishimaru himself...

“Owada-san, good afternoon!” One of the men greeted cheerfully, clasping his hand in one of those firm yet professional grips he’d gotten used to since rising up in his career, “My name is Shiro Kamei, and these gentlemen are Kenshin Aki and Yutaka Hayashida. We’re Kiyotaka Ishimaru-san’s managers.”

“Well, that answers one question,” He shrugged, not sugarcoating his words, but not being as rude as he certainly could be, “But I don’t see Ishimaru-san around. If I’m meeting with anyone, I personally think it should be with the guy I’m gonna be with 24/7, for the next four years.”

“Of course!” Kamei-san chirped, far too cheerful for his taste, especially considering the stench of ass-kissing that followed it. Not sincere, but too many meetings like this one had trained him to swallow down the vomit that threatened to spew from the fakeness of it all. 

“Ishimaru-san will be here soon,” Hyashida-san intoned, temperament a bit more palatable than Mr Chipper, “He’s a rather busy young man, being an idol of his caliber. Dance practice is just wrapping up, any minute now, so we can use this time to have a little chat - go through expectations for your role and such.”

Mondo managed to stop himself raising an eyebrow at that. Like he wasn’t the best bodyguard in Japan. He guessed it was something needed for a job of this sort, not temping or whatever, and so he settled down for a bunch of timewasting jabber. 

Or, it was, until a certain request caught his attention.

“We also expect him to be kept out of, well… trouble…”

“Thought he was a cutesy, innocent kid?” He frowned, sitting a little straighter in his seat, attention piqued, “I’m guessing he’s the kind to get mouth-breathers and creeps, huh?”

The three men looked a little more caged at that remark. A couple cleared throats, a few tugged collars and cuffs, awkward air. 

“Yes, there have been incidents, but nothing previous security couldn’t handle,” Aki-san informed, “The issue is a recent change in attitude. Nothing much, but tugging on the leash more than necessary, if you understand my meaning.”

He did. Part of him wanted to object to the idea that a sixteen year old needed to be kept on a leash at all, but idol shit was full of PR. 

“So boy next door is going through a little rebellion, and you want me to make sure it stays on the DL,” He shrugged, “Got it.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, Owada-san -!”

Kamei-san was interrupted by several short, sharp raps, door opening to reveal the man of the hour. 

Ishimaru was pretty, no denying that. His eyes were what really caught everyone’s attention; bright, wide and doll-like. That said nothing about his facial structure - cheekbones and jawline and everything prominent - or his barbie doll-esque frame. He was probably one of the slimmest people Mondo had ever seen, at least in person. Well, and outside of a hospital. The media went absolutely gaga over his thigh gap, his lithe abs and delicate hip bones. 

He personally prefers a little more meat on the bones, a little less fragile, but he guessed it was an idol’s job to appeal to the masses. 

“Good morning, everybody!” He beams, but honestly? The sunshine emanating from him is a lot warmer - a lot more real - than Kamei-san. He actually had to take a second to come back to himself, knocked off equilibrium. The power of the Ultimate Idol, for you. 

“Kiyotaka, this is Mon -”

“Mondo Owada,” He cuts in, wanting to introduce himself, cut the preamble, and offers his hand to shake, “‘M gonna be the one guarding you.”

Ishimaru gives him a once over, and for two seconds he thinks he sees a smirk pull at the corner of the young man’s lips, but he soon brushes it off as a trick of the light. 

“Thank you so much for accepting our proposition, Owada-san!” He grins, and Mondo hates his little bi heart at that moment. Ishimaru clasps his hand. He can’t help but feel that they’re too calloused for a pretty boy idol, but he doesn’t dwell on it, “I hope we get along well!”

He’s loud, but the words are sweet, and Mondo relaxes a little bit. Easy job, as he thought. 

---

Mondo was proven wrong in a matter of three days into his contract. He’d certainly been proven wrong far quicker than that before; however, in terms of sheer what-the-fuckery-is-this, this situation took the cake. 

The train journey to the first tour destination wasn’t bad, if tedious. Kid spent all his time reading, and Mondo had no clue how he didn’t puke all over the place from staring at the pages. He’d looked at his phone for about five minutes and was ready to lie down and accept his death. 

… Trains were not his prefered method of transportation…

Ishimaru had passed on the sandwiches on offer, but so did Mondo. No big deal. Those things sucked ass, and maybe the kid was more nauseous than he seemed. Wish that was him, considering he was pretty sure his face was pale green. 

Settling into the hotel was fine, as was the tech set up in the venue. Stress emanating off everyone, but pretty normal as far as that shit was concerned. Ishimaru was dragged between costume fittings, tech run throughs and other things that just passed in a blur. 

No, what really proved to Mondo that the pretty boy idol was going through an actual rebellious phase, was what he walked in on at 11:56pm, night three. 

He’d gotten up due to a serious inability to sleep. Seriously, did he manage to get jet lag without even switching time zones? Nah, didn’t work like that. Maybe it was second hand adrenaline from the performance being tomorrow. Ishimaru might not make his kind of music, but the guy had this infectious enthusiasm for it all. He’d be backstage, too; premo location to see everything up close. He couldn’t help the slight smile on his face, in spite of how tired he felt. 

Any fleeting, fuzzy feelings disappeared, however, when he walked into the main area of their hotel suite. 

There stood Ishimaru, back to him, very much not dressed for bed. His jeans were so tight they looked spray painted on, not to mention the sequined top that cut off to show a tantalising flash of milky pale skin.

“Where’re you off to?” 

His question seemed to startle the kid, who practically jumped three feet in the air, hand clutching his chest as he whirled on him. 

“Fuck, what’s your problem?” He gasped out. Mondo couldn’t help but let his eyes widen, having not heard the boy swear since they met. Admittedly, it was only a few days, but Ishimaru just gave off such an innocent vibe. He’d questioned if the boy even knew a swear word for a while. 

“The guy I’m meant to protect is running off into the city at midnight, and obviously didn’t plan to tell me,” He answered bluntly, “So, come on, where’re you trying to slink off to?”

“None of your business,” He sniffed, shoulders squaring, “And stop… talking to me like that. Like I’m a child. It’s annoying as shit.” 

“Alright, sor-ry, jeez,” He apologised, hands up in surrender, “Let me just grab my coat and -”

“No!” Ishimaru ground out, “I’m going out, you're staying here, and my managers are none the wiser, got it?”

Oh, that sneaky fucker. While Mondo was all for personal freedom, no way was the scrawny kid going out there to get attacked and murdered in some urine soaked alleyway. For one, it’d completely fuck up his plans for the next four years - no money to send back to Daiya, and he seriously doubted Hope’s Peak would want an Ultimate Bodyguard who let the world’s most popular idol get murdered in a matter of days. 

“Yeah, no, not happening, kid,” He shut down, reaching over the boy to get his coat, only for hands to press against his chest, stopping him. 

“What do you want then? Money?” Ishimaru asked, looking up at him through his lashes. Fuck, the kid really went all out with the makeup; smokey eyeshadow and liner, glossed lips, the whole deal, “Or I can suck your dick?”

He nearly choked at that, face hot as hell and probably an embarrassing shade of red. “N-No! What the fuck?!” He yelled, only earning a shrug in response. 

“Look, I need to go out - alone,” Ishimaru began again, arguing a point Mondo simply wasn’t going to agree with, “I need to get a little fucked up, railed into some guy’s mattress, and then I’ll come back. I’ll be here again before sunrise.”

“Tugging on the leash more than necessary”, his ass! 

“Sorry, you're talking to the wrong guy,” He dismissed, doing his best impression of Daiya’s you done fucked up voice he could, “Back to bed. Don’t think you’re sneaking out, either. I’m just gonna stay out here all night, make sure you don’t go and get yourself cut up and dumped in the river. Y’know, my job.”

“Fuck you,” Ishimaru spat, storming back to his room with a mutter of ,“Asshole…”

If Mondo knew one thing, it was this… He’d really had no idea what he was signing himself up for.

---

A/N:

WOW, it's been a while since I've written for this fandom. Thank you Taka and Mondo for being an adorable pair of dumbasses and dragging me right back into DR. Hopefully, I'll add to my old fics too, but I've got lots of new ideas I want to play with (Including two other talentswaps and two AUs!)

For now, Ouran fics are on the back burner, I'm afraid. I'm sure I'll be back to them soon enough, but I'm a bit burnt out in my OHSHC obsession, so we'll see.

Also, as always, comments really help and if you want to take any of these concepts and run, go for it! All I ask is a credit and a link if possible! :)