#if i mistl the names sorry

[fangjuexias]

As the Green Mountains Should See Me Audio Drama || Theme Song, "As the Green Mountains Were Before"

监制：三个半 作曲：滨崎奎一 编曲：徐朝蒙 和声：小手 乐器分轨：沈童 混音：茶雪@茶雨山上採蔘客 填词：子非@子非雪_   吟唱词：屈原《湘夫人》选段  歌手：柏鹿@柏鹿柏鹿 封面设计：图图 题字：山眠木漏@山眠木漏 统筹：鹿陌初@鹿陌初

吟唱：（九歌·湘夫人） 帝子降兮北渚 目眇眇兮愁予 袅袅兮秋风 洞庭波兮木叶下 登白薠兮骋望 与佳期兮夕张 鸟何萃兮苹中 罾何为兮木上 沅有芷兮澧有兰 思公子兮未敢言

世间人偏爱求神问佛 岂知都渡客 皆勘不破 寂寂须弥独坐 承因果 妄念生 万苦灼 世间有青山守月如昨 万年寥然候 那盏灯火 忘川铃声游荡 千古过 佛亦有 执着

曾有千般求不可得 红莲生业劫 命数难测 几笔缘字 如何道尽坎坷 漫山辛夷未落

最羡的偏是人间烟火 贪嗔痴怨喜 为谁所获 清欢空梦南柯 你和我 谁为因 谁为果 最幸有故人红尘不惑 纵生死轮转 固守一诺 归来炉边温酒伴雪酌 停驻在 心泊

曾有千般求不可得 红莲生业劫 命数难测 几笔缘字 如何道尽坎坷 漫山辛夷未落

就算有千般求不得 踏八荒六合 命由我说 千载后 我看青山如初秀 料青山应如旧

[mykoreanlove]

not the christmas party you had in mind

LEE KNOW AU // OFFICE SETTING

“Just say my name when you’re entering the building. They’re already waiting for you.”

You giggled wholeheartedly as you read your friend’s text. You haven’t seen her in forever, but she hasn’t changed a bit.

Ever since you moved to Seoul gatherings like these became seldom, so you appreciated her inviting you to her work event even more.

You hid your face in your wool scarf as the cold attacked you brutally.

“Finally”, you mumbled as you made it to the company building.

The facility was decorated beautifully. You spotted mellow fairy lights, a big Christmas tree with shiny ornaments and mistle toes hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes wandered to the counter where a couple of employees waited around, joking and laughing about today’s event.

“Hi. I am here with y/besties/n. Does that ring a bell?”

The guy responsible looked up from his computer and took a good look at you – which made you stop in your tracks. Damn, he was attractive.

Light brown hair, parted in the middle with kind eyes and a devious smirk. His blue name tag hung around his neck, but it was too small for you to decipher.

He scanned the list and smiled at you.

“Are you y/n?”

You flashed him your kindest smile and hoped to see him later at the party.

“Yeah, hi.”

He motioned his hand to his colleague: “Please go with her. Enjoy the party.”

Your eyes scanned the room, but your bestie was no where in sight. As you went to get rid of your coat you scanned the area – the people looked nice, but no one piqued your interest quite like he did. You wondered if he would come up later too as you felt a hand grab you by your shoulder.

“Y/N!”, your bestie screamed excitedly. You hugged her tightly and talked for a while.

“Listen, that guy downstairs is hella cute.”

She nodded in response. “Oh my god, right? I thought so, too!”

It felt like hours went by until you finally saw him again. He was dominating the room like a lion – everybody wanted to talk to him, every woman was desperate for his attention.

“He is walking around like he’s fucking half of them; don’t you think?”, your friend whispered in your ear. You felt your chest tighten. She was probably right – even if he was single, he probably would be interested in a couple of women.

The night went by, and you had a blast with your friend. Shots and laughter filled your whole system. A couple of times you caught the guy from downstairs staring at you, but only for a second or two.

“Let’s go. I wanna go home.”

You grabbed her by the shoulders: “One last shot and we go. Come on.”

You motioned her to the bar and found your point of interest lingering there, too. He was holding up a shot glass and pointing it to you.

“We didn’t drink once”, you rolled your eyes at him. He turned around and ordered some more, making his way to you.

“You can’t leave without having a shot with me first.”

He handed you the pink liquor and looked you deeply in the eyes – daring you obey him.

As you gulped it down you felt him whispering in your ear.

“I don’t want you to think that this is some kind of lame pick up line but I gotta tell you.. You are such a beautiful woman. I noticed you right away when you entered the building.”

Butterflies appeared in your stomach as you listened to him complimenting you. You turned your head and whispered in his ear now.

“Thank you. Even though now I’m kinda sad that this wasn’t a pick up line.”

His laughter melted your heart.

“Oh come on, that is a nice thing.”

He held out his hand to you.

“I am Lee Know. Who are you?” You took his hand and shook it confidently.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Lee Know.”

You chatted for a while – about work and interests but got interrupted by your friend who was desperate to go home.

“I gotta go. I’m sorry.”

He smiled sadly.

“Don’t be. There’s always another party. I expect you to be there.” His charms grew on you.

“I can’t just show up, you know? Why don’t you give me your number?”

He entered the digits of his number in your phone and handed it back to you – smiling.

Shortly after, he slung his arms around you and hugged you goodbye.

“Wow, you smell amazing y/n.”

You smirked. Buying that overpriced Burberry perfume definitely paid off.

“Bye Lee Know.”

You followed your friend, feeling excited and giddy on the inside.

“Ah hold on. The boss wants us to show the office’s branch before we leave.”

The boss, a middle-aged guy with golden retriever energy, already waited for you two.

“Welcome, ladies. Ready for our tour?” You walked along the corridors and didn’t think much of it as you asked him about Lee Know.

“Hey, who is the guy that was checking the lists earlier?”

The boss looked at you surprised.

“Oh, you mean Minho?” Confusion cursed through you.

“Minho? No, Lee Know.” He remained silent, which didn’t sit right with you either.

“Ah, Lee Know, right. Actually, he’s my assistant.”

He opened the door to the office and showed you around.

“Here is my place and over there, there’s Lee Know.”

Your eyes lit up.

“Really?”

You looked around – it was a rather boring office set up, so you decided to make it prettier. You grabbed a blue sticky note and scrambled a message on it. You wanted him to remember you.

It was nice meeting you. Even if it was short. Hopefully, we can see each other again. Best, y/n <3

As you made your way out your friend noticed your perfume, too.

“How did I not notice your perfume before? You smell amazing. What is this?” You smiled again.

“Funny enough, Lee Know said the same thing.”

“He did?” His boss’ eyes widened in surprise. Something about his reactions really irked you, irritation flooding you.

“Yeah. He said I smelled nice. Among some other stuff.”

“Like what?”, your friend asked.

“Ehm”, you stumbled, not knowing if you should say this in front of his boss.

“He said that I’m a very beautiful woman and that he noticed me right from the beginning.”

His boss’ face turned cold.

“I can’t believe it. Did he also mention that he is married and the father of a newborn?”

“WHAT?” Your jaw hit the floor.

His boss sighed annoyed.

“Yeah, thought so.”

[gaytrashgoblin]

The Unexpected

Merry Pitchmas @anotherbechloeshipper! Kind of wild that I've gotten you for this more than once now, but happy holidays Amy!!

The unexpected. That was, by its very nature, what Beca was never quite prepared for. She, in her late teens and now early 20s, outwardly portrayed herself as a pretty chill person- someone who rolls with the punches as easily as they breathe. But the truth is that Beca wants nothing more than to be prepared in any situation outside of music. She hates when things are out of her control, but she’s learning, more and more, that sometimes the unexpected can be better than any scenario she could have expected or even planned for.

After many months at Barden, nearing the holidays to be specific, she had not only joined an acapella group, like seriously?, but made rather close bonds with two of the members. Namely one of her captains, Chloe Beale, and perhaps the most unexpected one, fellow freshman Stacie Conrad. While Chloe had made it her mission to befriend her, Stacie had been more of a silently acquired friendship that neither of them outwardly spoke of. Over the course of about a month, Stacie and Beca both learned, slowly but surely, that they both, quite frequently, get told that they are not  anything like what people expect of them based on their looks. The two grew quite close rather quickly, the friendship starting with knowing looks when someone made comments regarding them to outwardly defending each other to outsiders. This strange relationship, while unexpected, proved its worth in spades during all the nights spent together studying, venting, and sharing things about themselves that they haven’t with others. 

Beca’s relationship with Chloe was different than the one she had with Stacie. There was a… tension between her and Chloe. Beca honestly didn’t want to admit to herself what the tension was, despite knowing very clearly what it was, before she accidentally mentioned it to Stacie one night and had to face the facts. She has a giant toner for Chloe. In turn, after seeing how uncomfortable the admission had made Beca, Stacie admitted to her own toner for none other than Chloe’s best friend, Aubrey Posen. Beca’s face had scrunched in distaste before relaxing, shrugging and saying “I mean, yeah I can see you two working,” and that was that. 

Beca is snapped, literally, out of her musing by Aubrey’s hand in her face.

“Earth to ear monstrosities! Did you hear any of what I just said?” 

“Ear monstrosities to ground control, what the hell do you want now?” Beca says, doing her best imitation of an astronaut, earning her a few laughs from the Bellas. 

“Haha. Very funny. We were divvying up responsibilities for the Chrsitm-Apella party. The Trebles are hosting, so they are in charge of-” Beca mostly focuses on the conversation after Chloe winks at her, forcing her to focus on literally anything to try and stop her face from getting as red as Santa’s suit. She looks at her phone as she receives a notification and swears under her breath. 

“Sorry to dip, but Luke is sick and asked me to run the station for the night.” She says as she gathers her stuff, leaving the auditorium after getting nods from Chloe and Aubrey. After they finish, Aubrey takes it upon herself to visit the station to let Beca know what she is responsible for in regards to the party, Stacie chasing after her. 

“Hey, I’ll walk with you, I’m headed this way anyway,” Stacie says with a smile. They walk in comfortable silence until they reach the station. Aubrey glances around, not having been there before, while Stacie walks right in, greeting the girl at the front by name. Aubrey follows her with a slight frown.

“You know her?” 

“Yeah, I come here and hang out with Bec pretty often, so,” Stacie responds. 

“Oh,” Aubrey responds, a little cold. Before Stacie can comment, the two of them hear Jesse loudly talking to someone they can’t see.

“No, dude, it’s for sure gonna work! All I gotta do is get Beca under the mistletoe and kiss her, then she’ll totally fall for me,” he says, gesturing wildly. Aubrey glances at Stacie, as if waiting for a response. All Stacie does is huff a little laugh and shake her head. 

“Are you not going to say anything to that?” Aubrey asks incredulously. Stacie raises an eyebrow.

“No? I know he doesn’t have a chance with her, no matter what he does. Actually, it might be funny if he tries that, Beca will probably punch him,” she says with another little laugh. Jesse continues lamenting to whoever he was talking to, and Aubrey stomps over. 

“Hey! Have a little respect, would you? Even I know that Beca has rejected your advances before, no means no! Not to mention that she’s in a relationship!” She interjects at Jesse, startling him. 

“Huh? You don’t know anything about it, Aubrey, she doesn’t even like you! And what do you mean relationship?” 

“Her and Stacie!” 

“What?!” Jesse yells and Stacie asks simultaneously. 

“Ok, Aubrey has a point, Beca is absolutely not into you, but that’s not why. Beca and I are totally just friends,” she clarifies quickly. 

“Wait, what? But, Chloe and I thought you were together, that’s why neither of us ever-” Aubrey cuts herself off suddenly. Stacie, sensing her embarrassment, pulls her away from Jesse to continue the conversation. 

“That’s why you and Chloe never what?” She presses. Aubrey groans, putting her face in her hands. 

“Well, I mean… we thought we were respecting your relationship by not… making a move on either of you…” she trails off, glancing at Stacie to gauge her reaction. Stacie grins salaciously. 

“Oh? And who were you going to be making a move on?” Aubrey stutters, her face getting redder every second before muttering a ‘you,’ making Stacie’s grin grow. “Well, that works just fine for me. That gives me an idea, though.” Brushing some of Aubrey’s hair behind her ear, Stacie leans in close and whispers her plan. Aubrey, through her embarrassment, nods her agreement. 

“Perfect. I’ll see you Friday, then, pretty girl,” Stacie says with a wink before turning to head toward the booth, Aubrey getting a breath of whatever shampoo Stacie uses as she goes, managing to turn and leave without falling over like a lovestruck teenager. Stacie, for her part, barges right into the booth and sits on the table, waiting for Beca to turn to her, as per their usual. 

“Aubrey said you’re in charge of cups. Said ‘there’s no way she can fuck that up.’ But also, there’s this Italian place I’ve been meaning to try, so you’re coming with me Friday.” 

“Alright, whatever,” Beca responds with an easy shrug, hanging out with Stacie isn’t unusual. 

“And dress up a bit, its a little fancier than the usual places we go.” That makes Beca raise an eyebrow, to which Stacie just says to trust her. Again, Beca shrugs, then turns back to the task at hand. 

Friday night, Beca finds herself outside Stacie’s dorm. Walking right in, Beca finds Stacie dressed to kill in a blue cocktail dress and black stilettos. Beca lets out a low whistle. 

“Damn, Stace. Am I underdressed?” She asks, referring to her own button up and nice jeans with a pair of pumps. Stacie shakes her head. 

“No, that should be good, you look hot.” Beca laughs as the two of them head out. They call an Uber and Stacie takes the opportunity to drop a bomb on Beca.

“So, we’re going on a double date,” she says casually. Beca’s head snaps over so fast her hair smacks Stacie.

“We’re what?!” She hisses, acutely aware of the fact that the driver is definitely listening to the gossip. 

“I said what I said, Beca. We’re meeting some people there for a double date.” Beca’s eye twitches at how blase she is about this. “And before you ask, no, I won’t tell you who.” Both her eyes shut then as she lets out a long breath before resting her head against the back of the seat, fully resigned to her fate. Upon arriving at the restaurant, Beca trudges behind Stacie like a kid on the way to the doctor. 

“Lighten up, would you,” Stacie says as she opens the door for them. Beca merely smiles sarcastically. “Hi, we’re meeting someone. The name should be Posen.” Beca’s head snaps up when Stacie tells the hostess that. Wait, Posen? That means that Aubrey is one of the people they’re meeting? Then… could the second person be- 

“Hi, you look beautiful,” Stacie greets Aubrey when they get to the table. Beca’s brain short circuits when Stacie sits next to Aubrey, leaving her to sit next to Chloe, who looks like an actual angel in her green dress. Chloe is also stunned looking at Beca, but snaps out of it quicker to look over at Aubrey while Beca manages to sit.

“Bree! What is going on?” 

“Well, funny story… When I went to the radio station to see Beca the other day, that obnoxious Treble was talking up a storm about how he was going to woo Beca, and I stormed over there to tell him how disrespectful it was of him to ignore Beca’s relationship like that…”

“My relationship?” Beca asks confusedly. 

“Right, so, Chloe and I were under the impression that you and Stacie were together,” Aubrey clarifies before continuing her story. “Stacie reacted about the same as you, only, well, I may have said more than I intended to.”

“Wait, so you’re not together?” Chloe asks, gesturing between Stacie and Beca.

“Absolutely not. No offense, B. I’ve got my eye on someone else,” she says, winking at Aubrey, who promptly turns red. 

“That means that it would be okay for me to ask you out on a date then, right?” Chloe asks, turning to look at Beca while biting her lip nervously. 

“I- wha- you want to- I mean yeah,” Beca stutters, face now matching Aubrey’s. 

“Virgins, the lot of you,” Stacie mutters under her breath, earning a gentle swat from Aurbrey. “I already told you it was a double date, Beca,” she says playfully. 

“Just because you said so doesn’t mean that's what she wants,” Beca says quickly.

“It is,” Chloe says, grabbing Beca’s hand in her own. “What I want, I mean. I want it to be a date.” 

“Me too,” she responds shyly, squeezing Chloe’s hand with a smile. 

Once again, Beca has been presented with proof that your life, no matter how hard you may try, is never fully in your control, for everyone else is free to make their own decisions, which can throw a wrench in your plans. Whether for better or for worse. Though, it seems for Beca, all she’s been getting have been bonuses and upgrades. When she was shipped out to Georgia for school, she had planned on going one year and leaving, planned on spending as little time with her father as possible, planned on making absolutely no ties so that when the year was up she could reemerge from where she had firmly planted her head in the sand focused on her music. And yet, what she got was a renewed relation with her father, a group of girls that are quickly worming their way into her heart, a best friend who will be with her through thick and thin, and, apparently, love. 

“Just because Chloe’s head over heels for you doesn’t mean you can change the setlist,” Aubrey says. 

Well. Maybe not everything is unexpected.

[hvcmixtape]

this is for the lovely cece! (@shuatm) surprise i'm sh(elle), hence the 🐚 emoji for when i was messaging you as your secret santa <3 i hope you really enjoy this fic! i really liked the mistle-foe game you played with your friends so i repurposed it in a way to fit the fic! and aside from the fic, i hope your christmas and holiday season has been lovely so far and you have great energy coming into the new year

and thank you to my friends in the @k-labels server who worked alongside me for the past days while i was getting this done! shout out to davin (@renhaissance), soul (@l-luvr), kana (@luvhyun3), freya (@angelwoozi), and zoe (@badwithten) who were all there at some point while i was writing this so thank you for playing a huge role in me finishing this fic!

pairing: high school!joshua x fem!reader; academic rival!joshua wc: ~5k genre: fluff ; some swearing, but no trigger warnings

The second you feel an icy, dripping sensation down the back of your neck, it’s over for him. You whip your head around and scrunch your nose, balling your fists to edge the urge to scream. “I’ll kill you, Joshua Hong!”

“You can’t kill me, I’m half your grade!” He yells behind his back as he starts tripping over his feet before Joshua goes into a full sprint—as much as he can run with snow on the ground.

With your scarf thrown around your neck, it coasts on the wind behind you as you start to run after Joshua, weaving through the crowd of students waiting for their rides home at the end of the school day. You yell out warnings to passersby, more so for yourself so you don’t jinx anything and fall flat on your face.

You know you’ve caught up to his figure when you grip a hand on the shoulder of his black puffer. “Gotcha!”

…And that’s not the face you were looking for when you are met with the soft face of Jeonghan, one of your classmates. “Sorry, Hannie, you weren’t the person I was looking for. But I’ll see you later!”

Your eyes squint as you see Joshua’s face beyond the scope of Jeonghan and before he can accept your apology, you’re already moving forward with fire in your eyes. The satisfying crunch of fallen snow can’t be more satisfying than the punch you’ll throw toward Joshua’s chest in a few seconds—

“Wait a minute, (Y/N)!” Joshua’s desperate voice is accompanied by his open palms protecting his chest. Your lips purse toward one side of your face as you hold yourself back from moving. Any closer and you’d be in his face. “You can’t kill me because one, our final project is still not done and I’m literally half your grade, and two, we have to get going—everyone’s waiting for us to draw the names for Secret Santa.”

With a roll of your eyes, you let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You’re spared,” and with a sailing fist to his bicep, “for now.”

“(Y/N), ow. That actually hurt.” Joshua pouts, but he still leads the way toward Seungcheol’s house, the location of the Secret Santa drawing and exchange for the past four years. Now that you’re all seniors, you’re sure the burning thought on everyone’s minds is where the future will take you all. But the thought of the future can’t overshadow what’s in front of you, and what’s in front of you is Joshua Hong, the guy you’ve been chasing after in each class since freshman year.

His tongue-in-cheek bickering has accompanied each assignment you’ve had, and when you get even a point lower on a test, your blood boils in your chest when his condescending voice sings, “Maybe you can do better next time, I’ll teach you if you want.” 

How you ended up being in the same friend group as your academic rival was lost on you, yet your dynamic with Joshua has never changed throughout the years. 

“You had to be nice to each other at least once, right? Like maybe when we first formed the friend group?” Seungkwan reasoned when he brought it up to you earlier in the semester. Everyone was there except Joshua, who had soccer practice. “Joshua’s one of the nicest people I know too!”

“To everyone except me! Believe me,” you scoff at Seungkwan’s frown. “I’ve tried to be nice to him, but sometimes he’s just so insufferable,” you argue on your lonely island of one. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mingyu and Wonwoo share a look, and you huff. “I’m being serious! Like no way someone is just their mama’s boy who always goes to church is so nice all the time.”

“Sounds like you’re projecting,” Vernon chides as one of his eyebrows lifts up. “We’ve been friends all this time, and you still can't get along with him. Have you even tried to put in any effort?” 

So maybe you've put in a good 5 percent of effort to be nice before you start being catty, but it's also on Joshua to be nice to you too! Like he’s being right now as he lets you go ahead of him when you approach Seungcheol’s door. 

You tiptoe in, but there’s no use when Seungcheol yells, “Finally! We’ve been waiting for too long.” He emerges from the other room and his eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees the sight ahead of him. With a low whistle, there’s a smirk on his face that you want to get rid of. “Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas, am I right? Can’t believe I’m seeing a Christmas miracle.”

“Fuck off, Cheol.” Jabbing your thumb in the air behind you, you explain that you weren’t planning on coming in together. “But this kid wanted to throw a snowball at the back of my neck.”

“Hey, it was just so tempting considering the first snowfall was yesterday.”

“What’s so tempting is me punching you for real.”

Joshua’s face gets increasingly closer to yours, finding a way to tick you off further. “Oh? Why don’t you do it then?” You can feel his breath on you as he taunts you.

You start walking over to where you hear the rest of your friends, but Seungcheol grips your shoulder. “Uh, uh, uh. Look up.”

You and Joshua tilt your chins up to the ceiling, green leaves tied together with a red bow taunting your whole being. 

“Mistletoe…” Joshua whispers as he dissects the leaves with his vision, as if it'll slowly dissipate the longer he looks at it.

“Like hell, I’ll kiss Joshua.” You shove Seungcheol lightly, pushing your way toward the living room where your friends’ faces lighten up at your appearance.

“(Y/N)!” Seungkwan exclaims happily. “Did you get stuck under the mistletoe? I heard a little bit of what you were saying at the door.”

“Yeah, (Y/N) didn't wanna kiss me, their loss,” Joshua says as he shrugs himself around you, tossing his backpack on the ground and joining Seungkwan and Vernon on the carpet. 

With Seungcheol following not soon after, he yells, “Mingyu, how many times have I told you not to put your feet on the coffee table?”

Mingyu puts his feet back on the ground. As Joshua, Seungkwan, and Vernon sit around the coffee table to discuss the physics test they just took, Wonwoo and Mingyu sit on one couch, and Seungcheol makes his way to sit beside Jeonghan (who somehow made it there before you and Joshua) on the other couch. 

You take the last seat near the fireplace, kicking off your shoes and curling up near the heat. You've always loved Seungcheol’s house. During the holiday season, you loved to help his mother hang stockings on the mantle and ornaments on their tree. Her highest compliment was her loving how you arranged the poinsettias on their dining table. It’s a good change of pace from what you're used to.

“Who’s ready to pick?” Seungcheol pipes up once individual conversations die down.

“I mean, it doesn’t matter because we’ll know immediately who (Y/N) has,” Joshua jokes and Vernon dabs him up for that.

You can’t help but roll your eyes and say, “Yeah, let’s just start before Joshua has anything else to say about me.”

Just like last year and the year before that, Vernon takes a beanie out of his backpack to serve as the selection bowl. Each person rips a small slip of paper from Jeonghan’s notebook and writes their name down. Again, the thoughts flood your head, wondering if next year will be anything like this when you all go down your different paths.

“Everyone put their names in the hat,” Vernon puts his arms out, and everyone reaches over to drop their paper in.

“Hey, watch it!” Seungkwan glares at Jeonghan when he feels his head jostling from a push.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Jeonghan says but still laughs heartily as he settles back into the couch before Seungkwan can launch himself to get in a punch. Even though Jeonghan is older than him, Seungkwan’s hands and feet are ready for anything, especially if it’s Dino, the youngest friend in their friend group.

Mingyu leads by pinching the fabric closed and shaking it. With his eyes closed, he opens it back up and selects a slip out of the hat, slower than ever.

“Does he know that this isn’t the Triwizard Cup?” Vernon quips, and you can’t help but laugh. Everyone else starts erupting, whether it’s in chuckles or complaints, and one of Mingyu’s eyes slowly opens.

When he figures out who he has, he nods with a smile and passes the hat to Wonwoo. It keeps going on and on until it’s Joshua’s turn.

While you hope you don’t get Joshua, you do hope that he does get you. Out of all the boys, Joshua is the most thoughtful when it comes to gift-giving. Three years ago, as freshmen, you received the best gift you’ve probably ever gotten.

“This is a huge package,” you mutter to yourself, and you glare immediately at Seungcheol before he says any “that’s what she said” jokes. As you’re removing the wrapping paper, you’re wondering what you could have done in your life (and past life) to be the recipient of such a big gift.

“You’re taking so long, (Y/N),” Jeonghan complains as you try to remove the wrapping paper all in one piece. Even the wrapping paper is beautiful with metallic gold and silver lines running along it. “You’re not even going to keep it!”“You don’t know that!” You yell back. 

He totally knows that you won’t.

As you speed up the process, you open the box and are met with a Studio Ghibli movie poster for your room, a stunning stationery set, and an Animal crossing figure for your favorite villager. You’re ready to move on and guess who gave you your present, but you notice one last small box in the corner of the package. 

When you pick it up, the suede container is so enticing, but you want to savor the moment. You lift the top off.

“(Y/N), you’re going to catch flies,” Vernon laughs.

“What is it?” Seungkwan leans over, and when his eyes catch what’s inside, he knows why you can’t help dropping your jaw.

You unconsciously rub your neck, running your finger over the gem and the initial of your first name attached to the chain. It has always been your favorite gift, even if your rival was the one who gave it to you. 

Joshua loves to act like he has everything under control, so when he pulls his slip of paper, the smile on his face never fades. There is no scrunch between his eyebrows or nose. He’s the poster boy for calm, cool, and collected.

Right after him is you and you’re determined to be just like Joshua. He passes you the hat, maintaining eye contact for probably the first time in a month before he goes back to joking with Jeonghan about your facial expressions.

You choose the slip of fate after swishing your fingers around. Before you open it, you swivel your head to check if anyone’s looking and lean back in your chair.

The folds get straightened out and your heart rate rises, by a lot, and your eyebrows pull up toward the top of your forehead, and—

There’s no way…you got Joshua? 

You’ve crossed off each day on your calendar, and today is no exception. Before you leave your bedroom, you take your red pen and cross off on December 19th, the last day of school before winter break. Underneath the number, a reminder is written about the Secret Santa exchange.

There’s no need to ask you how you feel about being Joshua’s gift-giver this season, especially given the fact that you could very well be his last one too. In the conversations that you overhear (not eavesdrop), he’s told Vernon and Jeonghan that he’s in talks with an entertainment company in his mother’s homeland. He wants to make a name for himself and try it out for a year. If it works out, he’ll keep going. If it doesn’t work out, he’ll apply to UCLA or UC Irvine just like everyone else.

What an extravagant plan for a gap year, huh?

Either way, you want to make this the best Secret Santa any of your friends have ever seen. 

Bless the soul of your teachers, who seem to want to work less than the students, and you breeze through the day with a full stomach from the holiday parties in each class period. At the end of the day, the school assembles in the auditorium for the annual senior superlative Christmas show.

Seungcheol sits on a throne as the star of the show, Santa Claus—as if he could have been anyone else. Mingyu and Wonwoo opted to be Santa’s security and stand behind him with black vests and shades, arms crossed as if they were monitoring the situation. Vernon hangs out on the edge of the stage with Jeonghan and Seungkwan, who are all gingerbread men. You’re sitting in the back of the stands, ruffling your wings when they call out the names of the angels. The one you want to laugh at is Joshua, whose been appointed as everyone’s favorite red-nosed reindeer. 

The show goes off without a hitch, and you can’t say you were surprised when your ears perked up when you hear your name called…in conjunction with Joshua’s.

“Been working since freshman year for this very moment,” Joshua quips as he slings his arm around your shoulder to pose for the photographer. This very picture will be going into the yearbook with the description “Best School Rivals.”

“I’m clearly the better one,” you roll your eyes after the flash goes off.

“In your dreams, (Y/N),” he says behind his shoulder as you both head back to your seats.

There’s not much left in the school day when the show ends with all the seniors thanking their teachers with words and gifts, so you’re ready to exchange your halo and wings for comfier clothing to go to Seungcheol’s house for Secret Santa.

“Ah, (Y/N), don’t change until after the exchange,” Jeonghan tells you as you clean out your locker for the semester.

You’re still placing books into your bag when you ask for the reason.

“We need to take pictures! We’re only seniors once,” he cites the reason for almost every single stupid thing the boys have done to excuse their actions. “If you’re ready, then we can go to Seungcheol’s together?”

You scan up and down the locker before you grab the Christmas bag at the bottom of it. You shut it afterward and say, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

When entering Seungcheol’s house, you’re careful with where you stand and with whom. You’re certain there can’t be any mistletoe above the door frame, but you never know, so you make sure that Jeonghan walks ahead of you. There’s a breath of relief you’ve never felt before until you saw there was no green bouquet taped to the wall of the front door.

Just when you think it couldn’t get more festive, there’s more baubles and ornaments on the Christmas tree, a strip of hanging lights around the mantle, and is that even more tinsel?!

“Your mom has outdone herself, as she always does,” you muse as Seungcheol brings out bowls of snacks and sets them on the living room table.

He’s still dressed in his Santa costume, somewhat, as his jacket and thick belt rest on one of the chairs. “Do you expect anything less from her?”

You pluck a piece of popcorn from the bowl and shake your head with a chuckle. “Where’s everyone else?” You ask, your eyes peering at the backpacks surrounding the coffee table. You place yours near theirs, but the gift bag stays with you.

“Changing back into their costumes because Jeonghan told Seungkwan that he wanted to take a picture and everyone already came here changed out of them.”

Classic.

One by one, the boys come back to their usual spots, adorned in the very same costumes as they wore on stage with small modifications here and there to look less dressed up.

When Joshua comes back to sit on the floor near you, you call his name. When his head turns toward you, you can’t help but tap the end of his nose. “Your nose is still so red.”

“Really?” He scrunches his face as he pulls out his phone to view his reflection in the camera app. “Fuck, I tried using Cheol’s face soap too.” He groans and shakes his head. Glancing down at the bag you’ve placed in your lap, Joshua purses his lips. “Who’s it for?”

“Tell you as soon as you tell me, Hong.” You point your chin to the box near him. “Who’s the lucky person with your gift this year?” There’s no malice in your voice.

“Someone you know well.” He chuckles at the gears turning in your head, rendering you more confused.

Now that everyone settles into their seats, Jeonghan says you all should take a picture before the gifts are revealed, and insists further when the sounds of grumbles fill his ears.

The group shuffles into positions, and you slide down to sit next to Joshua, which may have been the wrong decision because he leans over to attempt to peer into the bag.

“What the hell, Joshua,” you mutter. “I knew someone was going to try to do that so I put way too much tissue paper in here.” You press the top shut, sticking your tongue out at Joshua before it’s time to pose for the picture.

Jeonghan takes charge of the running back and forth for the timer, something everyone is beyond used to by now.

Vernon’s the first to say something when the dust of picture-taking settles. “Are we gonna start or what?” Everyone places their gifts on the coffee table, sizing up what could be theirs.

Seungcheol and Vernon go head to head with rock paper scissors. (A game that’s actually fair since the last time they tried to settle things with an arm wrestle, Vernon yelped so loud.) Vernon wins best 2 out of 3, so he searches for the tag that’s his.

“Sweet,” Vernon talks to himself as he opens the box and finds a beanie and a chain resting on top of a hoodie. “Can I guess…” He surveys his options. “Mingyu?” The guy shakes his head. “Wonwoo?”

“Yep, I got you.” Vernon walks over to give his gift giver an appreciative hug.

Seungkwan’s turn is a blur because you know you’re up next after him. All you know is that Mingyu gave him a Starbucks giftcard and a new equipment bag for his upcoming volleyball season.

“It’s (Y/N)’s turn,” Seungcheol sing-songs with a bit of a naughty grin. Your stomach drops a little bit, and then even more as you realize the very gift meant for you is the gift Joshua was holding.

Your very wish had come true.

“You really got me, Joshua?” You look to him before you pick up the gift and he nods with a smile that you usually don’t see when it comes to you. It’s in beautiful wrapping paper, just like last time. You wonder if his mom’s the one who wrapped it this time and the time three years ago because knowing that Joshua absolutely sucks at knitting does not give you the most hope.

To prevent this time around from being a repeat, you rip the paper, even though you would have loved to repurpose it in some way, shape, or form. It’s a box, similar to the one that Vernon had from Wonwoo, and you remove the top.

Your hands fly to your chest as soon as your eyes took in the sight. Pictures upon pictures pasted on top of each other, all forming to create a heart. The words on top make out the words “You’re the best, (Y/N)” and now your own heart is in your throat.

You scan the poster, recalling the memories that come with the pictures. There’s one off-guard photo that you never even knew existed from when you and Joshua actually spent time alone together and you didn’t explode somehow. It was a biting winter day just like this one and you threw freshly-fallen snow into the air, smiling as the snowflakes drifted wherever the wind took it. You’ve never seen such a natural smile and yet, here it is in this very picture.

“There’s some other things underneath the collage,” Joshua says, his voice coming out gentler than you expected.

Keychains for the people who have already committed to their colleges—Vernon’s heading to NYU, Cheol and Jeonghan are both going to Berkeley, and Wonwoo’s going to UC Irvine. (So many smart boys you’ve got in the group.) There’s one more, a keychain for Pledis Entertainment.

“It’s to remind yourself of me,” Joshua explains. “I’m not going to college yet. Or ever, depending on how this whole idol thing goes.” 

“You’ll do so good, Joshua,” you whisper because that’s as loud as you can get without your tears overflowing. You continue to move on with the gift, finding a pair of the cutest frog plush slippers, an apple pie candle, and a slip promising you that he’ll make you cold cider before the season ends.

Lastly, a sealed envelope rests at the bottom of the box and Joshua implores you not to open it in front of everyone and just wait until you’re by yourself. “Just wait until you’re home.”

The other boys ooo-and-ahh, especially Seungkwan who wants to know why. “Secret feelings maybe?”

Cheol snorts and says, “Maybe a copy of his perfect grades.”

You smile at Joshua before putting everything back into the box and placing the top back. “Thank you, Joshua.” 

The group continues with Mingyu, but your mind is still stuck on Joshua. This whole time, you’ve been shitting on him and he created you such a beautiful ensemble of presents. There’s not necessarily a pang of guilt, but more so a pang of “I’ve always seen Joshua as an academic rival, but why am I so committed to the bit?” and your eyebrows furrow at the thought.

You try to connect back as it’s now Wonwoo’s turn, but you can’t fully tune back in until it’s Joshua’s turn.

“How did we manage to have each other?” Joshua muses, concluding that the bag in your lap was for him.

He pulls out the tissue paper, commenting that you definitely put too much in here, but he finds the last piece and places it down. 

Your heart beats faster, and you can’t tell if it’s from seeing his hands dip into the gift bag, or the way his hair parts, or the sheer anxiety that you didn’t pick the right presents especially knowing he gave you amazing ones.

Regardless, nothing beats the way his smile grows wider than when he pulls out your gifts in a line. 

“Wow, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says about a rabbit polaroid picture holder. 

“This is your favorite, isn’t it?” He asks about a book you gifted him after you reading it in class piqued his interest.

“I love this scarf!” He exclaims, the colorful fabric pulling apart as far as his wingspan will allow.

Despite only giving three things, Joshua pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hands rub up and down your arms.

When he lets go, you kind of wonder how it would have been to stay in the hug longer but your brain doesn’t stray for too long when Joshua thanks you profusely for the gifts. “These are all so thoughtful, thank you (Y/N).”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you like them.” 

If only you could see the shock on everyone else’s faces as they watched this scene unfold, but even after Jeonghan and Seungcheol unwrap their gifts, the question bearing on your mind still bothers you.

“How did everyone else manage to get someone different, but Joshua and I got each other?” You ask, pointing to the two of you. While Vernon’s clasping his chain on and Seungkwan’s pressing his new tangerine pin next to the other three he has on his backpack, Seungcheol and Jeonghan try not to make eye contact. Mingyu and Wonwoo suddenly increase in volume.

“Hey! For real,” Joshua agrees with your question. “There’s no way this happened by chance.”

Everyone stops what they’re doing and all of a sudden, it’s so easy to make eye contact because the 6 of them look toward each other for an answer to produce.

“It was his idea,” both Seungcheol and Jeonghan say at the same time. Your mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to say, but there are none.

“I mean, okay, it may have been my idea,” Jeonghan admits, scratching the back of his ear. “We all just kind of wanted to see you guys be nice to each other for once, instead of at each other’s throats for the rest of the year.”

Vernon adds, “Yeah, you're probably going to kill each other for the top 2 rankings, but you're friends before you guys are classmates.” He grips Joshua’s shoulder. “And dude, I know you don’t really feel that way about (Y/N). You’re only rude when you’re around her.”

“We know how you truly feel about (Y/N). You li—” Seungkwan’s eyebrows wiggle and Joshua physically lungs at him, pressing his hand to his mouth. With Vernon in the middle trying to lean back so he doesn’t get weighed down by Joshua’s body, it looks like a weird family photo.

After a moment, Joshua straightens himself and takes a deep breath in and out. His composure doesn’t dismiss the fact that his face is redder than the remaining face paint on his nose.

Mingyu jumps out of his seat, pulling on Wonwoo’s arm. “Ah, I have a phone call to take! Wonwoo has to come too.”

“I didn’t hear your ringtone go off.” Wonwoo narrows his eyes, but allows himself to be dragged away into Seungcheol’s kitchen across the house.

“Cheol, I’m hungry, do you have food?” Vernon perks up, looking at his friend. “Seungkwan’s hungry too.”

“There’s chips right there?” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, but sighs. “Fuck it, come on. Jeonghan, I know you’re hungry too.” He herds the rest of them into the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

You’re dumbfounded with the way you’re just left with these feelings that swirl around your head. “Did you know?”

“About this?” Joshua points to the gifts. “Not at all. But now that I think about it, I probably should have guessed.” He laughs and there’s a relieved look on his face when your stone face relaxes.

“Thank you for the gifts again.” You say to fill the space of silence. “Kinda sad you’re not staying here.”

“There’s still one more semester left. You can’t get rid of me just yet.” Joshua shifts to sit directly across from you. “Even though they arranged it to be this way, I’m glad I got to be your Secret Santa.”

You smile, looking down at your hands. “So what was Seungkwan talking about when he was talking about feelings?” You watch the pads of your fingers dance with one another as you wait for his response.

“Well, yeah, it’’s true that I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone, but well, I can’t tell if you hate me or not.”

Your face falls, finally feeling that pang of guilt. “I think I just got so caught up with being the best that I never really considered how you felt. I…” your voice trails off. “I don’t hate you, Joshua.” Your voice gets quieter and quieter. “It’s kind of the opposite, I think.”

“What?”

You groan, finally looking at him in the eye. “This is going to sound so stupid, but I think my feelings took the wheel and I was rude to you to mask how I felt about you.”

“What kind of feelings are we talking?” Joshua cocks his head, being careful with the moves he puts forward.

“Ugh, I don’t want to say it, but I like you?” Your statement comes out more as a question, but the confirmation is rock solid.

Joshua runs his hand through the locks of his hair as he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve liked you since the moment I met you, (Y/N). Freshman year, biology class.”

“No way.” You laugh in disbelief but your tone gets more serious as you continue, “You let me speak to you like that even though you liked me?” Your palm flies to your forehead, fingers clutching your hair. 

“It was kinda fun. Teasing you and all that.” Joshua chuckles. “But yeah, I’ve liked you since then and I thought maybe I could say something about it before senior year ends. That’s what’s in the envelope.”

All of a sudden, scurrying footsteps tiptoe on the floor of the living room and the only thing you see is Seungcheol violently tossing something green and running away immediately after.

It lands in Joshua’s lap. It’s a green bouquet, wrapped in a red ribbon. “Mistletoe, good one, Cheol,” Joshua yells in the direction of the kitchen with no response. “Well, if we have mistletoe, we can’t disappoint.” He shrugs as he holds the end of the mistletoe above your heads.

“I guess not,” you reply with a grin before licking your bottom lip, taking one good look at him, and at last, pressing your lips to his. 

(You know the saying, keep your friends close and your rivals closer? Thanks to this Christmas miracle, you finally believe it.)

please feel free to provide feedback, reblogs, or likes if you enjoyed reading this fic!

[fallenclan]

OHH MYRTLEPAW BELOVED... DELIGHT in how you draw them / their general vibe they're soso cute :3. I think he and Mistlekit should get to bond over similar names. Him and Bristleheart too maybe, in that they're in the nursery at the same time and Mistle is probably pretty lonely... Similar names former loner solidarity ! Admittedly all the basis I have for this is that, but I do think it'd be cute... Especially with Mistle having been left behind, the idea of him having some older cats with similar experiences (confident and charismatic, too! More likely to reach out...) as a support system charms me a lot.

. OH MY GOD I FORGOT THISTLE . SHE FITS NEAR PURRFECTLY AS WELL... Former kittypet, but I think there's still a similarity :} and through him, Boulderstep; Bristle's kits through him and the nursery in general, likely Bub through Myrtlepaw as another former loner if they get on well, so on...

(Bashful gesture) heheh, apawlogy, the thought of a kid all on his own in an intimidating new world finding bonds and solidarity with the cats around him enough to feel safe and secure there in them got me. He's imaginative, he probably spends a fair deal of time in his own head, I picture him as kind of quiet myself, but the thought of him going from spending nights staring up at the sky and wondering after his mom, hoping she'll come back for him, to hearing stories from Bristleheart (the truth stretched just a Little for the sake of a good story, commentated on by Night and Quail for as long as they can stay awake to listen), or about apprentice training from Myrtle (with his current injury, I can imagine a kinda cute little "haha, maybe our tails'll match soon" exchange), or from Thistle about her time adjusting to clan life, maybe even from Boulder about different clans, and so on...

(.AND BRISTLE AND MYRTLE MIGHT HAVE TIME TO BOND BC MYRTLE'S HAVING AN INJURY LOOKED AFTER!! Charismatic & confident >:D KAHAHAA...)

(draping myself kittyishly across a nearby structure, staring up at the sky) I wonder if he still thinks about his mom, even after time has passed, the wound's less fresh... He's imaginative. I wonder if he tries to think up stories about what she might be doing, adventures she could be going on, so dangerous she couldn't risk bringing him. Maybe someone nudged him towards it, some quiet conversation in which he bared his heart, looking for guidance - "What do you think she's doing now?" A way to keep her in his heart, without it hurting as much. He probably understands what actually happened, to some degree. Someday, if not now. (Personally, I concur with the thought that she gave him up because she knew she was going to die soon.) Still, the story persists... She might end up more a character than a memory, at some point, but sometimes that's how things happen. He keeps her with him. I think he might write stories if he were a person. Maybe he'll tell them to some kit himself, someday...

SORRY. ^ THOUGHT TOO MUCH.

ANYWAY!!! MISC THOUGHTS. I think Bristleheart is probably pretty respectable as a medic, just divorced from the holy aspect that clan cats associate with the role. Maybe as a loner, he had to focus more on prevention than treatment - likely limited stores of herbs if any, less cats to have to care for, therefore more of a "take advantage of what you have/can find when you need, before things get worse" approach. It's impractical for a clan of so many cats to have each cat have some travelling herbs occasionally (or so, vague example) in the months they know sickness is more likely (to bolster their immune systems, or so), but not so bad an idea when you're just taking care of your kittens, or giving some cat who came to see you and herb and advice, you know? He'd probably have to relearn some things in a clan setting, but I think he'd contribute good, new ideas just as surely. Sunwish had to learn everything from scratch, after all - she knew a lot, by the end, and definitely enough to keep the clan afloat for a long while, but she didn't know every plant around the area! Certainly not those beyond the clan's borders. I think Bristle's knowledge certainly won't rival it - there's bound to be overlap, after all, and Fallenclan's medicine cats have figured out a lot - but it'll be a definitely handy addition! A new perspective... As far as character goes, I think he's pretty respectable. Some combination of "fake it til you make it" and genuinely just being sure in what he does. He does what he does well. (SIDENOTE: HIS FANGS AND HIS KITTENS HAVING ONE EACH ARE REALLY, REALLY CUTE...) And I think his kits have inherited that, a little! They don't really have a reason to believe things won't work out, because he's been doing all he can to make sure they do. He seems reliable to me.

Myrtlepaw... I think they're cute <3 a little unsure of things, but he's finding his feet okay, being charismatic probably doesn't hurt. I'll have to wait a see a little more of what they're like! :3

(BONUS: If Bub DID get sort of close with Mistle through Myrtle it is very very cute to me to consider him reflecting on it as practice if him and Willow ever have kits.) (. If they have had kits and I have somehow fully forgotten I am So Sorry,)

ALSO. OHHHHGHGH BRAMBLE FIC... MOSS AND SALMON FIC.... WE'RE EATING WELL RECENTLY IM HOWLING AND WAILING ABOUT BOTH

AND SALMON KITS!!! AWWWW... HELL YEAH HELL YEAH HELL YEAH

(- 🐈‍⬛) (. This is so long. I Am So Sorry,)

"the thought of a kid all on his own in an intimidating new world finding bonds and solidarity with the cats around him enough to feel safe and secure there in them got me" AUGHHHHHHHHHHH BLACK CAT YOU ARE DRIVING ME TO INSANITYYYY THIS IS SO CUTE

you are so so right btw. and the idea of Bub taking Mistle under his wing is so adorable aughh

[tonguetiedraven]

May I request just a lil fic where Rin was on an exorcism or something where he had to clear out a hive of demons or whatever, and he felt bad bc one was scared and he just brought it home with him. So noe him and Ryuuji have to deal with another tiny lil demon running everywhere

This was an adorable prompt <3 Rin absolutely collects stray demons and Ryuuji longs for the day when they have a big enough space for them all, lol. Also, he's going to get that tamer meister after all, lol.

— — — — —

“Rin?” Ryuuji kept his voice impressively even, all things considered.

“Yeah, babe?” Rin called curiously from the other room.  

“Can you come here for a sec?” There was a slight scrape and the sound of something shuffling, and then his boyfriend was peering around the corner.

“Yeah—oh.” Rin’s eyes went all wide. “I can, er, explain?”

“I certainly hope so.” He hadn’t said anything about the coal tars or the kodama. He had let the baku in and just cleaned up after the yama-oroshi’s leftover gratings. He’d welcomed animalistic demons and nightmarish demons and demons he could hardly conceptualize and nursed the hurt ones back to health and helped Rin find them new homes. He knew his lover had a bleeding heart for every demon and that he couldn’t rest if one was in some kind of distress. He’d fallen in love with Rin, and that included the part of him that had a tendency to collect strays. 

But that didn’t mean he always had to let it happen.

“He was alone!” Rin hurried over and scooped up the demon in question. A small red toad like creature Bon hadn’t seen since their school days. It immediately croaked and curled up in Rin’s arms, hiding its face in Rin’s right elbow and trembling a little. It was a fantastically pathetic show. 

Rin’s eyes were going big in full puppy dog display. Bon kept his lowered to the demon because he was not getting drawn in by those big blue eyes this quickly. 

“Ryuuji, he was alone.” Rin said again. “The rest of his nest had left him and the other exorcists were getting ready to use the holy water grenades to clear the old place out, and I — he’s so little.”

“He’s an okka. They’re all that size.”

“They are?”

Bon nodded and almost lifted his gaze. He managed to avoid looking Rin in the eyes at the last second. “And I’m sorry, but what happened?”

“I was on a mission with some of the students and the nest got destroyed. Tsubaki was just gonna clear it all out, and the rest of his group abandoned him.” Rin hugged the okka and stepped closer so Bon had to work to avoid his eyes. “Ryuuji, I couldn’t leave him there all alone. He was an orphan.” Rin’s left hand moved to Bon’s arm, warm fingers squeezing gently. 

It was cheating and Rin knew it. Cheating to say his name in that soft pleading way, cheating to try and make a connection — however vague — between Rin’s past situation and the okka, cheating to rub his thumb in that little caress, and cheating to stare up at him with those big sad eyes.

“Rin,” he sighed, already knowing he was going to give in and hating himself a bit for it. “We can’t—”

Rin stepped into his space and wrapped his left arm around Bon’s chest, hugging him close (careful not to squish the okka) and tucking his head under Bon’s chin. 

“Please?”

“They need packs. They can’t—”

Rin’s tail drooped low. “I’ll take care of it. I promise. I’ll feed it and clean up after it and—”

“Sunshine—”

“Please.”

Bon sighed. “Just for a while, okay? We gotta get him a real home and —”

It was too late. Rin’s tail was wagging wildly, he was hugging Bon tight, and he was gushing about his plans while the okka gave a happy croak. Bon had been (knowingly) played, and he’d be lucky if they managed to rehome this one in a month.

— — — — —

The okka (which Rin had named Mistle “Iike mistle-toad, Ryuuji! Get it?”) was immediately a menace. He liked to hop to high places and knock things over and no water was safe from him. Baths, pots, sinks, showers, and even cups of water. The okka could and would jump into any of it.  Bon had to have wasted a few gallons of water in unfinished glasses of water.

Mistle also took great delight in lunging at bugs, or things he thought were bugs. He would leap into the air, croak, splat himself against the wall and then slide down despite his best efforts not to. He left stains on the walls and furniture where he hit it, and he would spend all night croaking. Kuro would get annoyed and run after the demon, and the ruckus they caused would make sure no one could sleep. (Well Ryuuji couldn’t sleep. Rin could sleep through a damn concert.)

The okka also liked to hop into plates of food. 

Ryuuji loved Rin dearly, but he was hungry, tired, and dehydrated.

“Rin?” Bon sighed as he walked into the house to the sight of water spilled on the floor. 

“Ryuuji?” Rin hurried into the room with Mistle on his shoulder and Kuro perched on his head with a scowl directed at the frog creature. “Hey, babe! I got dinner ready and I talked to Mistle and he’s gonna be chill so you can go to sleep right after dinner and I’ll make you a bath and—”

Mistle croaked extremely loudly and made Bon’s eye twitch a little. 

Bon closed his eyes and pinched his nose. There was a migraine coming on. He needed some damn sleep.

Rin made a concerned noise and hurried closer. “Babe?”

“It’s fine,” Bon muttered. “Just… promise he’ll behave?”

Rin nodded hard and kissed his cheek. (Bon didn’t like full kisses when there were demons hitching a ride on Rin. It was weird to have that close of an audience for a kiss.)

“I promise. No noise tonight. Now,” Rin moved around to be behind him and got his hands on Bon’s shoulders to steer him into the room and towards the couch. “You sit down and get comfortable. I’m going to go get dinner. Want a drink?”

“Water please.” He sank onto the couch, accepting the quiet insistence for the apology and attempt at amends it was.

“Just water? Nothing harder?”

Bon shook his head and offered Rin a stiff smile. “Not tonight.”

Rin nodded, tail drooping to curl nervously around his leg, and hurried to the kitchen. Bon watched him go and tried not to sigh.

He sat still for a few moments, just focusing on his breathing, and then got up to straighten the room a bit. There were only a few items that had been knocked over today. Nothing broken, thankfully. He realphabetized the books and at that point Rin came back in the room with two plates and no demons. Bon took one of them from him and gave him a soft kiss. He wasn’t mad at Rin, not really. He was just tired and a bit stressed. He knew Rin couldn’t stand demons being left behind or hurt, and he knew who he’d picked and who he wanted to marry. 

They just needed something bigger than this apartment to do it. They’d be able to move to the temple and inn someday, and while his mom wouldn’t let the demons in the inn, they could still roam the grounds. Rin would have all the space in the world.

Bon led Rin towards the couch and sat next to him, pressing in close and listening as Rin started to talk about his day. He ate a few bites, relaxing into the couch and feeling the tangle not of everything loosening in his chest.

A loud croak and a crash broke through it all. Rin shot up, knocked Bon’s water over on the table, and hurried towards the kitchen to see what had happened. Bon left him to it with a sigh. He finished a few more bites and lifted up some of the cabbage between his chopsticks. A few steps had him by the snake plant. He dropped a few pieces of the cabbage into it, watching as the greenmen and kodama that lived there got all excited and chirped their cheer at the meal. A few more steps had him at the small tank. The heikegani was grumpy as hell but seemed to be less murderous each day. Bon was hopeful they’d be able to rehome him soon. The shadow shied away as he neared it, but seemed happy when he turned off the hall light so it could slink away. 

It was a weird home, but it was at least welcoming.

Rin came back with Mistle tucked in his arm and a sheepish frown.

“You know,” Bon said around a yawn he couldn’t quite stifle. “Those are pack animals.”

Rin nodded and stared down at the little okka with a hang-dog expression. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. I’m not telling you to get rid of him. I’m just—” he yawned again and scrubbed at his eyes. He needed a damned nap and he needed to stay calm. “They don’t like to be alone. That’s why he keeps acting up.”

Mistle stared up at him with big solemn eyes. Bon, too tired to really think it through, reached over and pat the toad demon on his red head. He croaked low and contentedly as Rin stepped closer.

“You saying he’s lonely?”

“You said he had a nest. Probably.” 

Rin wrinkles his nose as the okka stared up at him. It was always a bit weird to see Rin talk to demons. Weird to know there was a conversation going on around him that he couldn’t actually hear.

Rin’s lips spread in a grin. His eyes darted up to Bon, and he felt himself slumping at the pleading look in them. He was probably going to regret whatever was about to happen. 

— — — — —

Bon was laying on his side with Rin’s back pressed up against his chest. His knees were tucked behind Rin’s with his arms around Rin’s middle. He had a blanket over their legs, but Rin was warm enough that he didn’t need more than that. Kuro had curled up behind his head, purrs rumbling around in Bon’s head as his eyes slipped close. Mistle was curled up in Rin’s arms, happily held in the middle of their cuddle pile. The shadow demon had taken a spot near the foot of the bed, the coal tars had gathered in the closet, the naga had hidden in Bon’s sock drawer, and the salamander had curled up in the old candle jar. Bon’s sleep mask was enough to block out that light, and the quiet rumble of Rin’s purrs mixed with Kuro were enough to drown out the sound of so many demons breathing around him in the darkness.

He hugged Rin close, letting his own breath even out, and finally fell asleep in their small demon menagerie. — — — — —

and bonus art of Rin's pleading face and Mistle.

[witch-and-her-witcher]

A 🌹by any other name

“P-pardon me.” His voice was light with a southern accent, no longer unfamiliar to the North as tradesmen traversed previously inaccessible borders to expand their businesses and suggesting origins from one of the middle states between true Nilfgaard and those north of Cintra.

Ciri’s eyes dance with mischief over her mug. She simply raises an eyebrow to prod the southerner to continue.

“I-I’ve been wanting to ask, since you came in …” he wipes his hands on his trousers, stares at his feet.

“Spit it out,” Geralt says evenly.

“Are you Falka?” He spits out as commanded and looks instantly regretful as Ciri’s face drops. “I-I’m sorry, it’s just, I’m Marquis Marco de Uyvar of Ebbing – “

“What do you want?”

Geralt tenses, observing the steel in his daughter’s voice and the shadow over her expression. His daughter's time apart when he desperately searched for her, largely a mystery. He had coaxed some information out of Ciri about Mistle and the Rats, but for the most part she would insist the time period was best left in the past.

“I was there when that man made you fight in the arena – “

“What do you want?” She's gripping her mug with both hands now, hard enough to suppress the tremors running through her.

The Marquis Uyvar worries at his bottom lip. “It’s been so many years, I was young then but I promised if I ever saw you again I would let you know they’re all dead. The former marquis and marchioness, may they rot in hell, and the rest of the lot. I wish I could have done something for you then, but I thought this might bring you some comfort …”

Ciri doesn’t look up, doesn’t react to the news.

Unable to watch silently any longer, Geralt stands. “You’ve said what you wanted, leave us in peace.” When the marquis’s eyes dart between him and Ciri desperately and he opens his mouth once more, Geralt places a controlled hand to his chest, firm but non-aggressive. “Now.”

The man from Ebbing nods and shuffles away, casting one last forlorn look over his shoulder at Ciri. He gathers his things from his booth and heads for the door.

“Should I follow him out and kick his ass?” Geralt asks as he sits back down, a predatory glint in his eyes as he watches the retreating back.

“No.” Ciri clenches and unclenches the muscles in her jaw. “He was raised by animals, he’s suffered enough.”

--

Oops, also not a line. I'm re-discovering so many WIPs right now I forgot about!

WIP rose prompt!

[warriorsbutnotreally]

Hello, here's an ask for the day. I've been working on this character for the past few days. They share my scars and some of my appearances. Anyway, onto the reason why I'm here. I need a name. I'm sorry about not having their design figured out but I did just finish the sketch. Their partner needs a name too but their name can wait. The name can be clan or loner/kittypet in origin. Thank you for the requests. These characters aren't part of the Court and Kingdom universe, at least- I have decided if they are, so I hope this ask isn't jaring to you at all. Have a good day!

I'll never get over how fun your designs are sdfah

and idm helping name characters at all ^^

for potential Clan names;

Cloudwisp

Fuzzytuft

Featherheart

Softcloud

Whispersong

/

potential non-Clan names;

Powder

Mistle

Wish

Spirit

Chickpea

[lipstickbisous]

Do you have any personal HCs about our beloved Peter Parker?

oum love this!! here's a quick and christmasy headcanon for how you met and fell in love with college!peter parker is like 🤍

sweet boy - tasm!p.p.

SUMMARY: meeting our sweet boy, peter.

WARNINGS: just fluff!

the following work is my own writing. do not plagiarize or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.

MASTERLIST

Peter doesn't make much contact or communication with girls, so when you ask him for a bookmark one day because you didn't bring one for the new book you're reading, he freezes. He slowly hands you a bookmark that read "I like big books and I cannot lie". You sincerely laughed at it and said it was cute.

That's when Peter fell in love with you.

From then on, he returned to the library every day in his free time with hopes of seeing you again. He would occasionally catch you studying or browsing for new books, which was the perfect opportunity for awkward small talk.

And every time he saw you, he noticed that you always carried a small bookmark with the dorkiest book pun on it.

Eventually, he stopped seeing you around the library. He tried to seem as inconspicuous as possible, but when he didn't have his daily chat with you he would leave the library in a considerably worse mood.

In fact, it was about two weeks that he just simply didn't see around campus. He was starting to become nervous. Did you think he was weird for always wanting to talk? Were you avoiding him? If so, this wouldn't have been the first time Peter messed up his chances with a pretty girl.

He'd been hoping you were more than that, though. He felt in his heart that you were perfect for him, since the day you scrunched your nose and laughed at his lame bookmark.

Then, by a miracle, two days before Christmas break, he saw you wearing one of the ugliest, therefore greatest Christmas sweaters he'd even seen. It even had tiny little light bulbs that illuminated. "Nice sweater," he managed to cough up next to you while you were studying. "You're, uh...you're really sleighing it."

It took a small moment to understand what Peter was actually trying to say, but when you did, your cheeks turned red and you struggled to hold in your laugh. "I'm sorry, that was really horrible. I can do so much better, I promise."

"No, I loved it! Puns seem to be your thing?"

You remembered him. Even better, you still had the bookmark saving your place in the new book you'd started a few days ago.

Peter blushed heavily and thought to himself. "How about..." he pondered. "...Love you head to mistletoe?"

You smirked to yourself, biting your lower lip. You tried to hide how much you were blushing as well, but it was no use. You and Peter were just a beet-red girl and boy in a library. "You're mistle-toeing the line." You internally cringed until he smiled.

You realized you'd never once told him your name and he'd never told you yours. "I'm (y/n)."

He turned an even deeper shade of red and his smile twitched as he tried to compose himself. "I'm Peter. Peter Parker."

[akaluan]

aka i'm still losing my shit at the convo with Yakumo in the pits area. i have a Need to see louis cornering yakumo afterwards and going MC IS A FUCKING AMNESIA MAN FFS WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT the game has CHEATED us of this prime content -ser

((ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE! Technically this probably does need a followup apology/discussion between the three of them when they finish the Howling Pit zone and go back to base, but I'll write that later. Also, in general, consider this canon for.. basically all my versions of code vein Erich, no matter which ending he gets.))

Louis leans against a piece of scrap, contemplating the misty, waterlogged area in front of them; he’s not looking forward to trudging through the morass, and even less to fighting in that morass, but needs must. He’s pretty sure he remembers a Bloodspring out in this direction, and if Erich can revive it — and the mistle in the whole area — it will mean more safety, more hope, for every revenant in the Gaol of the Mists.

He’ll do anything for a brighter future, even if it means wading through hip-high water and fighting the Lost while doing so.

“—we were all human once,” Yakumo is saying behind him, clearly chatting with Erich as they rest.

Louis shifts his stance enough to cast a glance over his shoulder, a touch of amusement curling in him at the sight of Yakumo holding one of his ubiquitous onigiri; Yakumo always has some of the damn things on him, though at least he’s stopped attempting to offer them to Louis.

(Though, Erich hasn’t had the joy of trying them yet, has he?)

(That will be an interesting—)

“If I completely lost the memory of my human past, I wouldn’t be me anymore,” Yakumo continues with, and Louis freezes, dread pooling in his stomach; he knew he should have pulled at least Yakumo aside before they left! He knew how Yakumo felt about memories, about losing them, about holding onto things, but somehow he’d not expected the man to just— just—!

“I would just be… something in the shape of me,” Yakumo says gloomily, oblivious to Louis’ rising panic. “I’d look like a revenant, but on the inside I’d be no different than the Lost. What’s the point of living like that?”

Breath hisses between Louis’ teeth and he turns, desperately hoping that Erich hasn’t taken offense, that Yakumo hasn’t lost them their best — only? — hope—

Erich is watching Yakumo with an unreadable look in his gaze and his expression otherwise calm; Louis would almost think the man completely unaffected, but there’s… something about him, about the way he’s standing, and the way his right hand is slightly curled, that makes Louis wary. It doesn’t seem like Erich’s about to lash out — his stance isn’t correct for that, at least — but if the man internalizes those words, comes to believe that he isn’t any better than a Lost, that his only worth is in fighting and pushing back the miasma—

No. He can’t let that happen. Can’t let the man think that he doesn’t matter when he absolutely does, when Louis would have welcomed him into their group even without the man’s unusual gifts!

Yakumo rises to his feet and shrugs his jacket into a slightly more comfortable position; he’s not looking in Louis’ direction, though, so he entirely misses the sharp ‘cut it out!’ gesture that Louis makes. Erich does, though, his amber gaze flickering away from Yakumo to settle on Louis for a brief, puzzled moment, before Yakumo opens his damn mouth again and pulls Erich’s attention back to him.

“I served in the army, back before I became a revenant. We used to eat these things when we were out on missions,” Yakumo says as he gestures slightly with the hand holding the onigiri. “I guess… it helps me remember.” He pauses, hand curling slightly towards his chest and chin tipping down, and adds, “It was a miserable time, but I made some good friends that I shouldn’t let myself forget. This stuff doesn’t really taste that great, but eating it always reminds me of those friends.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. Doesn’t taste that great is an understatement in his opinion; Yakumo’s onigiri tend to taste like absolutely nothing, not even salt, which is absurd when Louis knows the damn things are salted to high hell.

This time, the look Erich casts him over Yakumo’s shoulder has an edge of amusement to it. Which is… probably good? But at the same time, it makes Louis really want to see the man try to choke down the tasteless, sticky mess that Yakumo calls ‘onigiri’ and see how amused he is then.

“So I guess you could say it helps me stay me,” Yakumo announces a bit more cheerfully, as he walks past Erich towards the ramp down into the waterlogged morass below. “It’s been an important companion in my life!” he adds with a wry grin while turning back towards Erich, who huffs a small laugh and nods a bit, before freezing as he finally catches sight of Louis.

“Yakumo,” Louis says with as much quiet fury as he can. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Er… sure?” Yakumo flashes a cheerful smile at Erich and says, “Sorry, we’ll be just a moment, alright?” before striding over to Louis, expression wary and fingers tightening on his onigiri enough to start deforming it a bit. “What’s up?” he asks quietly as Louis gestures him into the vague privacy of a nook made by rubble.

Louis quickly checks where Erich is just to be sure the man isn’t close enough to overhear, then quietly says, “Please never, never talk about memories like that around Erich again. This is also on me because I didn’t think to warn you, but… please try to avoid it, if possible.”

Yakumo blinks at him in confusion. “Louis…?”

“He…” Louis grimaces, wrestling with how much he should say, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it, and I didn’t, but… neither Erich nor Io remember anything.”

He can see the moment Yakumo understands: it’s in the way he stiffens, the way his eyes round and his face blanches, the way the breath stutters in his throat and his chin tucks down towards his chest.

“Nothing?” Yakumo repeats in a horrified whisper.

“Nothing,” Louis confirms wearily. “Best I can tell, Erich has about a day or two of memories from before I found the two of them and Io has a few days more, but neither of them know anything about themselves beyond their names.”

“Shit. And I just… I said… shit…!”

Louis hums in agreement and steps closer, bumping his shoulder against Yakumo’s arm in an attempt at comfort. “Eat your damn tasteless onigiri,” he murmurs instead of saying anything else, content that Yakumo understands now and will do his best to help Louis head off any potential issues.

Yakumo scoffs and drives his elbow into Louis’ side in retaliation, though he does take another bite of his food and chews thoughtfully. “You thought about talking with Davis?” he asks the instant he swallows his bite. “Guy’s lost a bunch of his past, if I remember right.”

“I’ve considered it,” Louis agrees as he leans into Yakumo a bit and tips his head up to stare at the vast hole in the distance. “But I just don’t know…”

“If you should go waving that bit of info in front of everyone? Yeah, that makes sense.” Yakumo shoves the last bit of his onigiri in his mouth and dusts his hands off, chewing and swallowing so hastily that Louis is almost certain he’s going to choke. He doesn’t though, and promptly wipes at his mouth as he wryly says, “Still, might want to figure out how to let everyone else know, just so no one else sticks their foot in it like me.”

Louis grimaces but nods in agreement. He should probably just ask Erich and Io if it’s fine for others to knows about their situation — that will be the least invasive way to handle this, he knows — but he’s definitely not looking forward to that conversation. Not because they’ll fight him or be rude or anything, but because… because Erich will probably just quietly agree, and Io will follow his lead, and Louis will be left once again not knowing if they agreed because they want to or because they think they should.

He’s already having that problem with what they’re doing right now, dragging Erich out into the Gaol of the Mists in search of mistle and Bloodsprings: did Erich agree to help them because he wanted to or because Louis was the first friendly face he met that didn’t end up turning into a Lost? Does he actually agree with Louis’ plans, or is he just following along because he has no other purpose, no other direction, and he might as well go along with it?

(Fuck, if Louis was like some of the larger gang leaders, bright and charismatic and cruel, would Erich and Io still have fallen in with them so easily?)

(Power like Erich’s… almost anyone would do their best to flatter and praise and twist their way into controlling it.)

(Is… is Louis doing the same thing?)

(Is he just using them?)

A sharp elbow drives the breath from his lungs and slams him back into the rubble behind him, snapping him free of his twisting thoughts.

“You back with me?” Yakumo asks with a frown, then reaches out to poke Louis between his eyebrows. “You got all silent and guilty looking. Talk to me here, man.”

Louis groans and bats Yakumo’s hand away from his face. “It’s nothing,” he tries to deflect, then scowls when Yakumo just plants himself in front of him.

Yakumo clicks his tongue, gaze sweeping across Louis and then over at the rubble blocking their view of Erich. “Let me guess. You’re worried about coercing him.”

“It would be so easy,” Louis practically whines, letting his head thump against the rubble behind him. “If I say the wrong thing, give him the wrong idea—”

“Yeah, let me know how that works out for you,” Yakumo interrupts with a snort. “He’s quiet, but he’s got some pretty solid instincts. Er… well… people instincts at least. Not so much the instincts of ‘high places bad, watch your footing’, he absolutely does not have those.”

Louis chokes on his laughter, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and futilely drives a foot into Yakumo’s leg in retaliation; it’s not funny, it’s absolutely not funny, but the way Yakumo phrased it—

“Yeouch, hey! Just saying it like it is!” Yakumo yelps as he hops backwards, comically flailing his arms in the process. He casts a quick, surreptitious glance around the edge of the rubble as he does, then signs a quick ‘all clear’ and steps closer again, back thumping against the rubble right next to Louis. “Seriously, though,” he murmurs, all joking gone from his tone, “if he’s just muddling along on instincts and copying us, then you’re not wrong about worrying. Hell, I probably just made things worse without even realizing it.” He huffs and shakes his head, then casts a sidelong look at Louis and adds, “But we also can’t shy away from it, or pretend to be anything we’re not. We just gotta… do our best, you know? Be us. Be honest. Be kind. Try to remember that he doesn’t remember.”

“I know,” Louis agrees with a sigh, rubbing away the moisture from the corners of his eyes. “I know, but I still worry,” he admits softly, painfully, thinking about all the ways he could just… spin a lie around Erich that the man would never think to question. He won’t, not knowingly at least, but the idea that he could sits sour-heavy-horrible in his stomach, like the rotgut Yakumo brought home one day and insisted they share.

Yakumo shifts a bit closer, pressing their sides together, and bluntly says, “You should. Just don’t second-guess yourself too much, huh? Can’t have our fearless leader hesitating on us.”

Louis snorts and gives Yakumo a dark look in response. “When did this become you giving me a talk?” he asks in exasperation, even as he leans into Yakumo, soaking up the offered reassurance and trying to settle his mind; they can’t afford Louis hesitating or having his focus drift at a critical moment, Yakumo’s right about that, but knowing that and avoiding that are two very different things.

(It’s going to take him a while to sort all this out in his head.)

(Hopefully this trip through the pit will be uneventful...)

“Probably when you started having a crisis,” Yakumo answers flippantly, then nudges Louis lightly and asks, “You good now?”

“Good as I can be,” Louis says as he pushes away from the rubble and brushes dust from his pants. Not that it matters, since they’re going to be walking through a mire soon enough—

(Can he skip this area?)

(He’d love to skip this area.)

(Ugh!)

—but it’s something for his hands to do while he finishes collecting himself and getting himself back into the right mindset.

Yakumo steps away and gestures grandly for Louis to go first. “Shall we head out, then?”

Louis rolls his eyes, takes one last moment to gather himself, then steps around the piece of rubble and says, “Okay, all set!”

Erich glances up from the mistle, his gaze curious, but he says nothing as he rises to his feet and steps back expectantly, clearly waiting for something—

Louis flashes the man a smile as he walks forward, hoping that none of his doubts are obvious, hoping that Erich didn’t overhear any of their conversation, hoping-hoping-hoping—

“Let’s be careful as we go,” he says instead of any of the twisting jumble of words — of apologies — that he wants to. “If we get split up in this mist, we might never find each other again.”

Erich nods sharply, casts a calculating gaze out over the watery pit, then slants a wry glance at Louis and says, “Yakumo can take point with me.”

Louis snorts, ignores Yakumo’s snickering by dint of long practice, and says, “Appreciated, even if I still have to slog along behind you.”

“You’ll live,” Yakumo declares as he steps forward, clapping a hand on Louis’ shoulder as he swaggers past with that frankly ridiculous blade of his slung over his shoulder once again. “Come on, let’s go see what lurks in the shallows, huh?”

“I would prefer a bit less lurking,” Erich grumbles as he follows Yakumo down the ramp, his bayonet in his hands and his gaze sweeping across the area around them.

Louis makes an amused noise as he follows them down into the water, then immediately wrinkles his nose at the feeling of water pouring into his boots and making his pants stick uncomfortably to his legs.

(He already hates this place.)

(If it wasn’t for what he could learn here—)

(But no, personal comfort means nothing in the face of a way to help other revenants stuck here in the Gaol of the Mists.)

(He just… wishes everything was a bit less wet.)

(Ugh.)

[mallowstep]

i decided to look at canon prefixes that won't work in my setting because i'm procrastinating doing the dishes

adder — that's right, adders are european snakes. this one surprised me, actually, so i'm glad i checked. (sorry, ravenpaw. i'd have to rewrite your scene, probably with a rattlesnake.)

arch — unclear, as i'm not sure what this refers to, but it's only been used once, so i'm adding it.

bluebell — i could argue in favour of twoleg gardens, but i'm in a "feels like talking about renaming characters" mood, so no bluebell.

buzzard — complicated. the short answer is, the only bird called a buzzard in the us is a turkey vulture, but i don't call it that, and this is my list.

cinnamon — i remember getting really into this at one point to try to see if i could get cinnamon to work but right now i'm saying no.

ferret — kittypet argument applies, but otherwise... (this one is actually really interesting because afaik the only wild ferret species is native to north america which makes it work better for my setting, although i'm too west for it to work i think. everyone who has ever been mean about names and chooses to rename tallstar ferretstar and hasn't taken into consideration that the only place that would make sense is in the great plains and therefore all other ecology details must be taken into note can now be shamed. go on, feel ashamed of yourself.)

fringe — but only if i'm taking a very specific meaning of fringe, i.e., a fringetree.

hickory — from what i can tell, no, but i could have missed something.

lavender — afaik, no.

maggot — i just refuse to name a cat maggot-, there's no setting reason.

mistle — technically a species of mistletoe was introduced to northern california, but no.

myrtle — no.

oat — no. but to my surprise, canon viable. (not confirmed, i'm not digging through england native species, it's just possible.)

olive — no, and not canon viable, but i'll give it a pass because olivenose is really cute.

parsley — don't think so, could be wrong.

pear — no (probably), but again to my surprise, canon viable.

rook — no.

rowan — i hovered between "no" and "yes but" and decided to go with no because ultimately the rowan trees are, i believe, all mountain-ash trees. that said, this is a very weak no. like, if i wanted to be serious about renames (e.g., rename olivenose, myrtlepaw, etc.), i wouldn't bother renaming rowanclaw, but i wouldn't name a new character rowan.

rye — no, buuut i'm not 100% certain.

sage — no, but similar to rowan in that there are plants that fall under the category of sage but aren't called such.

sloe — no. interesting name though.

sorrel — no and this one hurts me. sorreltail and sorrelpaw my beloveds.

starling — no, and this one hurts more than most because i've used it in sayings, which means i have no excuse not to remove it.

swan — i'm quite hesitant about this, but i don't think so.

tansy — no.

tulip — no and i don't feel bad about it. reject tulip. embrace onion.

yarrow — i waver: an argument could be made, but i'm not convinced.

and a few that work but were interesting to me while researching:

bramble — taking bramble to refer to blackberry as that's the british usage (which means brambleberry's name is a compound word, much like sandstorm), this very nearly was disallowed. blackberries are an invasive species. that said, i'm comfortable allowing it, especially considering a broader usage of bramble.

chive — could maybe replace with onion, but i like onion. hm.

eel — yes, interchangeable with lamprey.

flax — complicated, because it's really a cultivated plant, and as you might have noticed, for these purposes, i'm really only looking for wild species. but there is a wild flax that has been introduced to the pacific northwest, so i'll permit it.

furze/gorse — recently introduced invasive species, but i don't really want to have to remove every reference to gorse, so we'll allow it.

heather — a technicality wrt. huckleberries; the gorse problem.

lynx — in canon, a mythical name. in my setting, a perfectly reasonable one.

milkweed — not a logical name in canon, i feel superior. not 100% sure it would work, bc i don't feel like digging through a bunch of different types of milkweed, but when i was first reading warriors, there was across-the-country milkweed planting efforts, so i'll say don't worry about it.

monkey — not on the main list for the same reason as bella, but i think it's a cute name and wanted to call attention to that.

otter — yes, and we get both sea otters and river otters!!

plum — yes, but not the one you're thinking of.

primrose — yes, but not the english primrose i assume was intended.

rose — yes, but not the one you're thinking of.

sheep — just commenting it's an exception because canonically, clan cats have met sheep. otherwise, it'd fall under every other, "this is only found in cultivated areas." also i'm maybe biased in favour of sheep. who are you to say.

sparrow — yes, but (say it with me) not the one you're thinking of.

thrush — yes but i gave myself a heart attack bc for a bit it looked like no.

whistle — it's a good prefix. birds can be perceived as whistlin, so i'll accept it.

wren — yes and I get the win because this is a new world bird.

[miabrown007]

👀📥😈✨💭🍰 :D

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

Hmm, not really. I kinda made peace with posting mature content on main if I ever stop blushing profusely while writing and finish that fic; and if I ever put in the effort to bring the autobiographical Lukanette relationship study one-shot into a presentable state I can even post it, right?

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

get away (that is all I can do) is very near and dear to my heart and it didn't get as much attention as my other fics so I'm always :D!! when I get a comment on it. And they are always very nice because there are a lot of emotions to unpack here, and I just really enjoy people screaming at me.

(That being said, I love getting comments on every fic, even the ones that have relatively many of them because it's always, 'omg, someone is still reading this and you spared the time to share your thoughts and feelings about it with me, thank you! 🥺')

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

angst with a surprise ending (the surprise ending is a twist to more angst 🥰) [keep your friends close, Hanahaki fic]

it's just-- so cathartic to leave my faves' lives in shambles; and the comments are really a ride when everyone is just screaming at you :D

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Don't make me do this again >.<

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

In Mistle-Toeing the Line on the same night the plot happens Adrien had to travel back to England for Christmas with Amelie and Félix. The conversation about this went something like:

Marinette: Nooo, you have to go? :<

Adrien: I'm sorry. But I promise I'll always come back to you!

Marinette: 🥰🥰🥰

Marinette: You know, Cosmobug could always visit London.

Adrien: 🥰🥰🥰

And so she flew over during the holidays and they went sightseeing and they went to a huge New Year's Party because this is strictly a no-covid AU, and they kissed at midnight 🥰🥰🥰

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

a hypothesis, an experiment, and a coincidence is definitely one of them!! I don't usually re-read stuff but I think I've read this one three times and that speaks for itself. And I'm like, recommending this at every chance I get so that's there too xDD (It was published on my birthday, that can't be a coincidence!)

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #907: A Night with Inari (Persona 5)

8:56 p.m. at LeBlanc Cafè......

Futuba: (Eyes Widened in Awe at the Painting of a Woman Holding a Baby in Her Arms, in Front of Her) Wooooah....You seriously painted this throughout the whole night? It looks amazing.....

Yusuke: (Smiles a Bit Confidently While Simply Nodded) Why, thank you. I took the time and liberty to make sure this piece is near perfection. It's actually one of my favorites to make in the scheme of things.

Futuba: I can tell.....(Points at the Painting) Who is this woman supposed to be anyways? A model or something?

Yusuke: Not quite. It's my mother. Or at least......that's what I presume she would look like.

Futuba: (Slowly Begins to Frown Sadly) Oh.....Well.... Did she.....(Starts Looking Down on the Ground While Rubbing her Arm Somberly) You know.....

Yusuke: Passed away? Yes. She has. But it occurred when I was in a very young age. So I can't say I remember her too fondly. ('Sigh') In fact, the only person I know who has any knowledge her as of right now is Ichiryusai Madarame.....

Futuba: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Ichiryu- who now?

Yusuke: Ichiryusai Madarame. He was a former mentor of mines throughout my childhood.

Futuba: (Eyes Begins to Widened Once She Realized What Yusuke was Talking Before Snapping her Finger) Oh yeahhh!....The weird art teacher guy! I remember Ren telling me about him a while ago. Sorry you had to put up with his crap though......

Yusuke: (Smiles a Little) That's quite alright. It weren't for Ren and our group of friends doing anything sooner, I'd still would've been a puppet in his strings....(Turns to Futuba) and I wouldn't have the chance to meet you as well.

Futuba: (Almost at a Loss For Words) You.....really mean that?

Yusuke: Why, of course. We may have our differences from time to time, but I still consider you one of my closest companions.

Futuba: (Stares at Yusuke for a Brief Second Before Smiling Brightly) Thanks, man. I think you're one of my closest buddies too. Even if you are an Inari.

Yusuke: ('Sigh') Still don't have a clue what that name means, but I suppose I'll take it as compliment this time around.....(Looks Back at the Painting) Still, every time I take a look of this painting, it always put me in the mind mother.... How life would've been if she was still alive and what she would of think of me now that I am growing up......

Futuba: (Looks Back at the Painting as Well) Well....I may not know much about your mom either, but I'm sure she would be proud of you in the long run.

Yusuke: (Turns to Futuba) You think so?

Futuba: (Smiles Softly at Yusuke) Dude, I know so. You spent the entire night painting an image of her, even when you have little to no memory of what would she look like! Plus, add that to all the other amazing masterpieces you've made so far, I really don't see any reason why she WOULDN'T be proud, you know?

Yusuke: (Stares at Futuba for a Brief Second Before Smiling Softly) Yes. I suppose you do have yourself a valid point on that one. Thank you. (Eyes Suddenly Begins to Widened Once He Realized Something) Oh! Futuba! Could you hold out your hand towards me for a second?

Futuba: Uhh...(Holds Out her Hand) Sure. For what purp-

Without warning, Yusuke gently hold Futuba's fingers together as he begins to kiss the top of her hand. It wasn't long for the girl in question to start getting flusher from the whole sequences of events.

Futuba: (Immediately Pulls her Hands Away From Yusuke) WOOOOAH THERE, INARI! (Comically Glares and Points at the Boy) W-W-What do you think you were doing with those lips of yours!~

Yusuke: Oh. My apologies. There's a saying that if two were to be under a Mistletoe, either party would have to kiss the other. I figured since we're under one as well, that...I would do the same for you.

Futuba: Wait. Under a.. Mistle....(Looks Up to a Mistletoe Hanging Above Her and Yusuke) Ohhhhhhhhh.... That's right...I forgot Sojiro put it up there earlier today.....

Yusuke: That seems to be case....Still, I apologize for the inconvenience.

Futuba: ('Sigh') No. No. It's fine. I should've noticed the Mistletoe being there sooner....(Smiles and Blushes a Little) I appreciate sentiment though~

Yusuke: (Happily Nodded) Think nothing of it. If anything, I should be thanking you for giving me high spirits.

Futuba: (Smiles Brightly) No problem. Speaking of high spirits....(Makes her Way to the Café's Counter) How about I make the both of us some Latté for the night?

Yusuke: (Raised an Eyebrow) Since when did you know how to make coffee?

Futuba: (Starts Making the Lattè) Since the day Ren-Ren and Sojiro first taught me the basics not too long ago~ I still new to this kind of thing, so don't expect anything spectacular to come out of that taste buds of yours.

Yusuke: Come now. You shouldn't put too much doubt to your abilities. I'm sure the Lattè you'll make for us will out deliciously.

Futuba: ('Sigh') If you say so.....

@princekirijo

@keyenuta

@cyber-wildcat

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@theweebmaster31

@ma-lemons

[sunhalf-a]

“SORA!”

It’s a frantic cry, and comes a moment before the Lost can bring its sword down upon him.  It’s a frantic cry, and it morphs lightning quick into a scream of pain when Soma is suddenly between them, the ax within their hands barely holding, teeth gritting, doesn’t have time to react before the force is too much and Soma’s arms shatter and Soma’s body is thrown back, hard, into Sora’s — they both go flying.  She feels her arms trying to heal, but even then has the foresight, as the pair hurtle towards some of the debris in the Depths, to grasp him as much as she can and spin their bodies so that when ———

They hit a wall, hard.  Soma hits the wall hard, letting out another cry as blood bursts from her throat, Sora cushioned against her body.  Her shattered arms give out, and Sora falls from her grasp and to the ground, and she...doesn’t fall to the ground.  She doesn’t?  She looks down and — ah.  That’s it.  She’s been impaled.

“Soma!”

Sora’s voice is frantic, but Soma can’t hear it.  The jutting thorn she’d slammed into is sticking out of her gut.  Only a few centimeters — enough that it didn’t break Sora, thank goodness — but enough to keep her suspended on the wall.  Enough that this body is spurting thick blood.  They feel drowsy, vision blurring at the edges.

“‘S — fine, S - Sora.  Fine.”  They try to push themselves off the wall and off the thorn, but their arms won’t work.  Their vision is fading.  Not much time.  But the Lost at least threw them far enough that they seem to be someplace without any of them in the immediate area.  “Okay.”  Her voice is thick and small, throat sticky with blood.  “No Lost here.  Hide until I get back.  Come for you.”

unless they forget.

“Please hide.  Know you want to h - help.”  It hurts to talk.  Blood comes out of their mouth when they do.  “Please w - wait instead.  Sora.  Please.”

Sora stares up at them, eyes frantic and welling.  And nods.

“Be — ri - right back.”  They can’t use their arms well enough to disperse properl — they let their head loll forward and then slam it as hard as they can into the wall behind them.  They hear more than feel their skull crack.  For a moment, it goes black, and then comes the tell - tale pain and Sora’s scream and then, after a moment, there’s nothing.

———

They find him again.  It’s lucky.  It only took a few minutes to reform at the mistle, and only twenty or so more to make their way through the hordes of Lost back to his location.  They don’t forget there’s something to save, and they find him.  His eyes well when he sees her, and she’s only too happy to pull him into a hug and swing him around, spinning on her heel, humming and laughing beneath her breath.

“Okay?  None find you?” she asks him.

“Yeah.”  He nods.  Silence for a beat as she sets him down.  “I’m — I’m sorry.  I ——”

“Okay,” Soma says, a hand in his hair, affectionate.  “Please don’t again.  Not alone.  Dangerous for humans.”

The boy nods.  Soma takes his hand and begins the trek back — is glad they were thorough and cleared out all the Lost here.  It’s a safe trip to the mistle, mostly.  They never release his hand, and the pair walk in silence — at least until Soma squeezes his fingers, head tilting back to see him.

“Hm — favor?”

He nods.  “Yeah.  What is it?”

"What is — your name?”

— @heartslight

[ideasthatbuildcities]

Hello everyone! I’m going to post this Holiday gift for @ruddcatha because she was my giftee fot the Inuyasha Fandom Sceret Santa ( @iyfss)!

I really hope you like this and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to post it sooner.

 At first I wasn’t really sure what to write but after bouncing some ideas off with the amazing @witchygirl99 she helped me a little and this One-shot came to be. It’s just really a fluff peace, really, really, really fluffy that I hope you like and it’s something that resembles what you had in mind when you wrote your prompt.

Christmas Traditions

“Momma, what are you doing?” a soft voice asked behind her. Kagome smiled and looked down to her little girl.

“I’m doing a little bit of Christmas decoration,” she replied with a soft voice while she crouched down to be eye to eye with her daughter.

“Christmas?” the little girl asked, enjoying how that new word sounded in her mouth. 

“Yes, honey, Christmas. We celebrate it every year, and now you get to be a part of it!” she exclaimed. 

The little girl exclaimed and started jumping around repeating the word “Christmas” over and over again and Kagome couldn’t help but smile. Now that Moroha was a little older than four years old, she started to be more talkative and loved expanding her vocabulary and learning new things. Kagome didn’t know how involved Moroha would want to be with Christmas but she was secretly hoping that she would be able to share some things she used to do with her own mother when she was a child.

“Dad is picking the perfect tree for us, Moroha,” she smiled at the thought of Inuyasha looking for the perfect tree for their family. He didn’t quite understand the idea of Christmas, but he knew it was important to Kagome, so he did his best to help in any way he could. She wanted the three of them to go and look for the tree together, but Inuyasha insisted that she stayed inside since it was cold and he didn’t want her to catch a cold in her condition.

Kagome put her hand on her belly and felt a strong kick on her hand. Yes, it’s definitely going to be a boy this time. She knew Inuyasha was going to pick the perfect tree for them, but she was really looking forward to the whole family to go together. 

Well, we’ll go next year.

“Tree? What do we do with it?” she asked, curiosity lighting up her face.

“We put it inside our house, it’s going to be over there,” she explained, pointing at a spot in their hut. “And we decorate it with ornaments,” she paused, waiting for Moroha to ask her mandatory question.

“What is that? Ornament…” Moroha softly repeated after asking her question. 

“It’s what we use to decorate our tree. We are going to make our own ornaments, like I used to do with my mother,” Kagome smiled, melancholy showing in her features. She really missed her family and would love for her mother to meet Moroha, but she knew that was impossible. 

“And how do we do that?” 

“Look,” she replied, showing her daughter all sorts of dry flowers that she had been collecting during the last spring. There were also little sticks, thread, paper, some dark ink, some twigs and leaves.

“We can grab this,” she said pointing at a flower in her hand, “And we can use this thread to tie it together with this other flower,” Kagome replied while showing Moroha how to do it.

“Momma, it’s beautiful!” the little girl exclaimed as she grabbed some twigs and started tying them together. 

While Moroha was busy making her own ornaments, Kagome looked at some leaves and smiled to herself. Maybe she was about to get into the naughty list, but she didn’t care. She was a married woman, after all. After grabbing some thread, she started to work.

“What is that?” she heard her daughter ask, again.

“It’s a mistletoe,” Kagome replied, holding it in the air. 

“A mistle-what?” Even though Moroha was trying to do her best when incorporating new words, some words were plain impossible to her. 

“A mistletoe, we hang it in the ceiling and when dad and mom or uncle Miroku and auntie Sango are under it, they have to kiss! Moroha, you are in charge of reminding everyone of their duty under the mistletoe!” Kagome declared as she smiled. 

“I will do it, mom!” Moroha exclaimed in all seriousness. 

They spent the whole afternoon crafting their own ornaments, Kagome being so relieved and happy that Moroha loved their new tradition. She was quite surprised with how good and creative was Moroha with the limited crafting materials she provided. She knew she was doing her best but she couldn’t help to think about how much Moroha would love to see the ornaments from her time so colourful and full of life. Suddenly, a noise outside the hut pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Daddy, you are back!” she heard Moroha say. 

“Keh, of course I’m back!” Inuyasha replied while shrugging the snow off his shoulders. “And look what I brought! I picked the perfect tree!” he said proudly. Kagome could swear she saw him puffing his chest at that statement. 

She looked at the tree Inuyasha had picked and he was saying the truth; he did pick the perfect tree. It was full of leaves and it perfectly fit the spot they had picked for the tree. It wasn’t too big but it wasn’t too small, either. It was, like he had said, perfect.

“Welcome home, Inuyasha,” she said while she greeted him with a kiss.

“And what have you been up to?” Inuyasha asked while putting his hand on Kagome’s belly, greeting their unborn child. 

“Daddy, daddy, we’ve been making ornaments for the tree!” Moroha explained, happy to be able to share her work with her father. “Look, I did this!” she said while handing him a tiny stick figure made out of twigs. The stick man seemed to have a sword. “That 's you!! I wasn’t able to give him your ears, though,” Moroha pouted while explaining her failure.

Kagome was able to see how Inuyasha’s eyes were full of love when he saw what Moroha had done. Even though she would never say it out loud, she saw how a little tear that threatened to fall was quickly blinked into oblivion. 

“Thank you, honey, I love it,” Inuyasha simply replied as he leaned down and kissed Moroha on her temple. After a few seconds of silence, Inuyasha spoke again. “Do you want me to put down the tree so you can start decorating it?”

“Yes!! Do it, do it!” she started jumping up and down again. 

This girl really has a lot of stamina. Kagome thought while shaking her head.

Once Inuyasha made sure that the tree wasn’t going to fall off, he announced that Moroha might start decorating it. When Kagome made an attempt to stand up and start helping with the decorations, Inuyasha motioned her to sit down again.

“You already did a lot of work while crafting these ornaments Kagome, you need to rest,” he said smiling down at her. “I will let you tell me where they go.”

Kagome laughed at that comment, knowing that she could actually be a little picky when it came to how the tree should be decorated. After a few hours of Inuyasha and Moroha decorating the tree, Inuyasha grabbed the mistletoe Kagome had made and was about to put it on the tree when Moroha stopped him on his tracks.

“No! Dad, stop! That doesn’t go there!” she practically screamed as if that simple act had offended her, the tree and Christmas itself. Inuyasha looked at Kagome and she playfully smiled, playing dumb and looking at Moroha as if she held all the answers.

“That’s a mistletoe and has to be hung from the ceiling! Mom said you will hang it when you come back!” Moroha explained.

Inuyasha looked at Kagome. She was suppressing a laugh so hard that he swore she was about to give birth on the spot. He shook his head. 

“And where should I hang it?” Inuyasha playfully asked. 

“There,” Kagome replied, pointing at a place near the fire. 

Inuyasha did as he was told, paying close attention to whatever Moroha had to add to that matter. She surely was as talkative as her mother. 

Kagome stood close to Inuyasha while he finished hanging the mistletoe and smiled at him. For a moment, they forgot about everything and stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Inuyasha’s eyes were warm and full of love, as were Kagome’s.

“Dad, you have to kiss mom! You are both under the mistletoe!” Moroha stated, happy to be able to carry on with her duty. 

Inuyasha looked at Kagome and she giggled in response.

“Oh, I see why it needed to be hung,” Inuyasha jokingly replied. “I guess I have no other choice,” he said, faking defeat.

He grabbed Kagome by her waist and took her by surprise. Kagome gasped, not expecting the kiss to be that type of kiss, but Inuyasha captured her lips before any sound could come out of her mouth.

The kiss they shared wasn’t passionate, since their four year old was watching, but it was a kiss full of love, where Inuyasha tried to show Kagome how much he loved her and how thankful he was for the life he had with her. Kagome understood as she felt the same way.

XXXXXXXX

After a few days, a few more mandatory mistletoe kisses and making Sango blush and feel awkward being forced to kiss Miroku in front of everyone thanks to the mistletoe, it was Christmas morning and Kagome couldn’t be more excited for the gift exchange.

“Mommy, Daddy, come here, presents appeared under the tree!” Moroha screamed the minute she opened her eyes and saw the tree. 

Of course, it was quite a normal sight, with presents inside bags made out of cloth and nothing spectacular like the ones Kagome used to see in Hollywood films, but it was her own version of Christmas with her family and she honestly didn’t care. It was perfect.

“This one has my name on it!” Moroha exclaimed, eyes beaming with joy. Even though she was still young, she had recently learnt to identify her name.

It had been quite easy, after Moroha fell asleep Kagome and Inuyasha put all the presents under the tree for Moroha to see when she first woke up. They knew it would get harder and harder as each year passed and Moroha’s senses sharpened, but they would enjoy surprising their daughter for as long as they could. 

“Then it must be for you,” Kagome replied with a smile, just waking up and putting a hand on her belly.

Soon you’ll come out and next Christmas you’ll get to have your own presents.

 Moroha opened her present and stared at it, it was a red piece of cloth and she examined it, trying to figure out what it was.

“I don’t know what it is…” the girl said, slouching her little frame.

“Let me see Moroha, bring that over here, maybe we can figure it out together,” Kagome said, unable to move from the bed she shared with Inuyasha. Turns out being pregnant with a hanyou baby was a little more rough on a human body than a normal one; she had learned that with Moroha, and every day that passed made it harder and harder for her to move around.

Moroha sat down between her parents as she grabbed that little piece of red cloth with her hands, she was so careful it seemed she was afraid to break it. 

Kagome pretended to examine it and she even put a hand under her chin, as if she was thinking. After a few seconds she said, “I think I have an idea, come closer, Moroha,”.

When Moroha was well within her reach, she put the cloth on her head, as if it were a headband and made a bow on top of her head.

“Moroha, it looks like you have ears!” Kagome exclaimed, acting surprised.

“What?! Really?!” Moroha asked, her big round eyes filled with hope. She shot her hands right to the top of her head and felt the little fake cloth appendages. “I have ears,” she quietly said, and then she exclaimed once more; “Mom, Dad, I have ears like Dad! Mommy, mommy I want to see!”.

Kagome was overwhelmed with joy to see how that little gesture made Moroha so happy. She knew she felt like something was missing and she wanted to feel special like her dad, as she had put it. It wasn’t something big or expensive, but it was important to Moroha and Kagome wanted to give her the world. 

“Inuyasha, could you please hand me my mirror?” she kindly asked her husband. 

Kagome’s voice seemed to snap Inuyasha out of his state of shock and he went to fetch for it. After a time that seemed like hours to Moroha, he came back with a little mirror and carefully gave it to Moroha.

The little girl looked at her reflection on the mirror and screamed.

“I have ears, like daddy! Look, mom, I have ears like daddy!” she screamed again. Inuyasha could swear he saw how Moroha’s eyes turned glassy as she smiled with pure joy. He tried to fight it, but he also felt how tears began to well up in the corner of his eyes. 

Her daughter wanted to look like him. Her daughter wanted to have the same ears he cursed so many times before. And his wife, his Kagome understood that and wanted to give their daughter the world and make her happy. 

Inuyasha looked at Kagome and caught her looking at him. He knew Kagome loved him with every ounce of her body, she sacrificed everything for him, she gave him Moroha and was carrying their second child. She was the most caring woman in the world and he couldn’t be happier to be allowed to be part of such a loving and caring family.  His chest was swelling with love and gratitude. Even though it was the same promise he made to himself every day, he renewed the vow to make Kagome the happiest woman alive and protect their family at all costs.

Inuyasha got up and grabbed the two presents that were left on the tree. One contained the gift he got Kagome and the other one was Kagome’s present for him. He handed her her present and sat down next to her.

Kagome decided she had the right to open her present first, being pregnant and all, and open her the bag as Moroha sat down on her legs. 

“Mommy what is it?” the little girls asked as Kagome put her hand in the bag and grabbed whatever was inside of it. 

She felt something cold and pulled her hand and looked at it. It was a necklace that contained a pendant with a shape of a little girl that looked incredibly like Moroha. Kagome shot Inuyasha a quizzical look to which Inuyasha replied in a whisper only audible to her. “Once our baby is born, we can have Totosai make you a new pendant to add to your necklace,” he simply said, as if that would answer everything.

But oddly, they were so connected that was all he needed to say. That was enough for her to understand.

“Look baby girl, that’s you! I will carry you with me forever! This is beautiful, I love this present with all my heart,” Kagome said out loud while she hugged Moroha and looked at Inuyasha. It was a look that poured all the love she had for him, and some implication that she would be thanking him later.

“Dad, it’s your turn!” Moroha exclaimed as she jumped out of Kagome’s embrace and crawled over Inuyasha. 

Inuyasha opened his gift and found a bracelet that contained an amulet. He didn’t know what it was, so he looked at Kagome, waiting for her to provide an explanation. 

“It’s a bracelet!” Moroha exclaimed. Kagome was so happy that Moroha was loving the holiday as much as she used to do when she was a child.

“It seems to be a very special bracelet, indeed,” Kagome added, faking curiosity. “It seems to be a bracelet that protects the ones that have something special to protect,” she said as she winked at him.

Inuyasha looked at them both, completely dumbfounded. He knew he loved his family with all his heart, but every time Kagome or Moroha did something, that proved him that he was capable of feeling even more love than he thought he was.

Kagome looked at Inuyasha and she knew exactly what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same. She loved her hanyo and their hanyo children, and even though she sacrificed a lot to be there with him, she would do it all over again. 

“Mom, Dad, I love Christmas!” Moroha screamed beaming with joy and pulled them out of their thoughts. 

“I know Moroha, I love it too,” Kagome said, messing with Moroha’s hair. 

“Mom, careful with my ears!” her daughter said, covering them like her father did every time she wanted to play with his ears.

Kagome looked at Inuyasha and smiled, at the same time she felt a quite strong kick in her belly. She was about to put a hand on her belly until she felt Inuyasha’s big hand on her.

“Easy boy, let mommy rest,” Inuyasha said while stroking her belly.

“How did you know it was kicking?” Kagome asked, surprised.

“You tend to make a face whenever he’s being rough with you,” he simply said. 

Kagome smiled at Inuyasha and leaned in to kiss him, to which Inuyasha immediately responded. 

“Mom, dad! You are supposed to kiss under the mistletoe!” Moroha exclaimed, laughing.

Kagome smiled, she had everything she could have ever asked for and more. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yay! This was my first time participating in Secret Santa so I’m really happy to be part of this. I really hope you like your present @ruddcatha!

I Googled and Christmas was celebrated in Japan for the first time in the 1500 so I said, why not? Let Kagome and Inuyasha’s family be the one to start that, lol. I’m going to apologyze if I made Moroha be not realistic at all or I didn’t make her behave as four year old should, I haven’t been around kids that small in a while, so I did my best and I googled a few things. I hope she’s not too off. 

Anyway, thank you so much for reading this little fluffy one-shot <3! Merry Christmas everyone!

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Death Takes a Holiday” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Azrael and Raphael are stuck trying to give relationship advice to a woman stuck in a literal Hallmark Christmas Movie, but she's just not getting the message. Raphael is having the time of his existence, but Azrael isn't too sure how much more Christmas cheer he can take. (2257 words)

Notes: Written for @theantichristmaszine 2020, and inspired by @dianacrimsonia's Ineffable Opposites au where Aziraphale is Azrael, the Angel of Death, and Crowley is the Archangel Raphael. Diana's art for this fic can be seen on their Insta: dianacrimsonia. Please go give them all the love :)

Read on AO3.

“So let me get this straight …” Azrael plants both hands on the table, staring down in frustration at the starry-eyed red-head in front of him “… you’re prepared to leave it all, your entire life, everything you’ve built from the ground up on this miserable cesspool of a planet … for love?”

A smile, serene in its decision, content with a shiny vision of the future, answers him before a single word slips past perky, coral-tinted lips. “Yes. I am.”

Azrael slaps the wood as he pushes himself upright. “That’s rubbish, that is.”

An amused tilt of the head sends crimson curls spilling over a narrow shoulder. “How can you possibly believe that? How can you go through life not realizing that love is the greatest God-given force in the universe?”

“How did he get you to do it? Hmm?” Azrael asks, purposefully dodging the question. “You’ve been here, what? Three days? A week tops? What magical spell did he cast that would lead you to make such an asinine decision?”

“Well … we went on a hayride,” manicured fingers count off, “we went Christmas tree shopping, watched the candy puller make candy canes, listened to carolers ... Oh! We had hot chocolate and then ...” A pause, followed by a dreamy sigh “… he kissed me. At this cafe. Right here at this picnic table, as a matter of fact.”

Azrael jerks his hands off the table top as if burned, scowling at the bench beneath his bent right knee as if it were diseased. “We had hot chocolate and then he kissed me,” he mimics, dreamy sigh and all. “You are, without a doubt, the most insufferable creature I have ever met! And if you had a clue who I play Pinochle with on Thursday nights, you’d know that that’s saying something.”

“In her defense, the hot chocolate here is very good,” Raphael offers, taking a careful sip of the steaming liquid in his own Frosty the Snowman mug.

Azrael’s eyes shift away from the infuriating woman sitting in front of him to the equally infuriating angel seated down the bench from him. “Please enlighten me, sunshine, on how you keep getting us into these unsavory situations.”

Raphael raises his eyes, countering Azrael’s glare with a mischievous grin as a rousing rendition of Jingle Bells - Azrael’s least favorite Christmas tune of all time - begins from out of nowhere. “I read. A lot.”

“I may have to confine your literary resources to picture books from now on.”

“We’re here because we’re needed,” Raphael explains to his unamused companion. “Obviously there’s something we need to accomplish. A message we need to send. It’s kind of what angels do during the holidays.”

“Seeing as we’re stuck in a movie on what’s apparently called The Hallmark Channel,” Azrael divines, squinting at a golden emblem that follows them around like a puppy no matter where they go, “I would say that part is accurate.” He turns back to the woman who has done nothing since the moment his attentions went elsewhere, as if she only exists when he’s interacting with her. And even though he’s an Angel of Death, regarded as one of the spookiest, most sinister omens in all of recorded history, it creeps him out.

“Does he have any investments?” Azrael implores, returning to their lost cause. “A retirement plan? A 401K?”

Sara shakes her head.

“Does he at least collect commemorative plates!?”

“Those things aren’t important to him,” she announces superiorly. “Besides, I have enough money socked away to take care of the both of us. We’ll want for nothing, as long as we have …”

“Love. Yeah. I get it. Probably what he’s counting on, the leech. Man almighty,” Azrael grumbles, running a hand down his face in frustration. “Unbelievable! This dillhole should be working downstairs with us!”

“Simon doesn’t want to raise his son around a den of corporate greed!” Sara argues passionately.

“Really?” Azrael scoffs. “What about a den of good schools and culture? Does he believe in those things?”

“All we need is love.”

“What you need, lady, I can’t seem to say out loud.”

“That’s because this movie is rated PG,” Raphael interjects. “You can’t curse here.”

“Pity. Give me exactly five seconds and I’ll make their ratings go through the roof.”

“More like in the toilet. Guidelines for these movies are extremely strict.” Raphael stirs his cocoa, staring wistfully into his cup. “Darling? You do believe in the power of love, don’t you?” he asks, a deep, abiding concern coloring his voice.

“Of course I believe in the power of love!” Azrael stares up at the too bright, too blue sky, mentally venting using every four-letter word he can think up. “But sometimes the power of stupidity is stronger!” He sighs, so long and hard it deserves its own backstory. “Look, lady, love is grand and all, but so is carving a name for yourself and being able to make your condo payments!”

“Love will provide,” is the only reply she gives him.

“This is a nightmare!” Azrael groans, taking a seat opposite his angel and burying his face in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Raphael says, gaining a chipper lilt and a gleeful little wiggle. “I’m having a grand time!”

“Yes, well, you’ve eaten seven Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer cookies, drunk three mugs of cocoa, and you bought a quilt!”

“It’s Amish! Hand stitched! Did you see the craftsmanship?”

“You won’t be able to take it with you,” Azrael points out in a taunting, sing-song way.

“The Hell I won’t,” Raphael murmurs, diving into the mound of marshmallows swimming at the top of his mug.

“This Holy Holiday Messenger gig is all well and good, but did you really have to go and get us stuck in an American movie?”

“I had no control over that, love. But look on the bright side (for you) - we’re not going to be here forever.”

“No?” Azrael blows out an incredulous breath through tightly pursed lips, producing a rude sound that turns a few heads. “It’s only going to feel like it.”

“The spell will wear off in twenty-four hours, I assure you. Which should give us plenty of time to …”

Azrael cuts Raphael off with a look that could melt lead. Raphael puts his hands up in surrender.

“Fine. Here - let me give it a go. Maybe all this needs is a touch of Grace.” Raphael scoots closer to Sara, who’s gazing blankly at a tall, overly decorated tree, with moony eyes. “Look, dear, as much as I hate to admit it, my gloomy but pragmatic friend is right.”

Sara turns on him, glaring like he just spit in her cocoa. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Azrael says. “Excuse me?”

“It seems as though you have just as much wrapped up in your life in New York as your young man does in his daydream of fixing up a run down horse ranch that he doesn’t even have the capital to purchase yet. If I were you, I would go home, back to your life and your job. And either the two of you work things out apart and see how it goes, or find someone whose ideals better line up with yours. Someone who is worthy of you, who wouldn’t ask you to give up everything to live here with him. Because love - true love, the kind of love that lasts - doesn’t come from the sacrifices others ask you to make. It’s about the sacrifices you’re willing to make for others, freely and unsolicited.”

Sara stares open-mouthed at the traitor sitting beside her. But as aghast as she appears, there’s a moment when both Raphael and Azrael think a light bulb has gone off. She’ll agree with them, thank them for their time and their sage advice, then be off, winging her way back to NYC. But after a few blinks, she slowly shakes her head, tsking with every turn of her neck. “You guys just don’t understand the meaning of Christmas.”

Raphael shrugs and slides back to his original seat. “Guess not.”

“Don’t fret, my pet,” Azrael teases. “You tried your best. Guess it wasn’t a matter of Grace after all. There’s no getting through to her, is there?”

“We don’t need to,” Raphael says, reconvening with his cocoa.

Azrael frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the person who needed that message has heard it, and has changed their mind about giving up everything for someone who isn’t willing to meet them half way.”

“Who was it?” Azrael asks, sweeping his gaze around, trying to spot the love lost soul in question.

“Someone out there.” Raphael gestures off to his right. “A real life person out in television land.”

Azrael grins at this turn of events, giddy with relief. “That’s … that’s wonderful! Now we can get the Heaven out of here!”

“Uh … n-no.” Raphael fidgets sheepishly with his mug. “I-I’m afraid we’re stuck here for the full twenty-four hours.”

“Wha---? How!? How can that be!? We fulfilled the requirements of the spell, didn’t we!?”

“Y-yes, but …”

“I know the rules behind these ultimatum locked spells! Once you fulfill your duty, then …” Struck by a sudden realization, Azrael turns wide, scolding eyes on his angel. “Raphael! What did you …?”

“I’m sorry, dear! But when I felt the spell start to pull us out, I just … shrugged it off!”

“But I didn’t shrug it off! How come I didn’t leave?”

“Funny thing that.” Raphael giggles nervously, peeking up at Azrael through glittering lashes. “I sort of … overrode it.”

“Raphael!”

“Azrael! It’s Christmas! I have been trying and trying to get you to take time off and go away with me! This twenty-four hours outside of time could be a holiday for us! Look at all the neat stuff they have planned!” Raphael snaps up a festively decorated flier. “Apple cider tasting, cookie decorating, a peppermint eating contest … and look! A Mistletoe Forest! Do you know what that means?”

Azrael crosses his arms over his chest. “It means this entire town has a huge fungus problem?”

“It’s a forest covered in mistletoe! Mist-le-toe!” Raphael repeats as if talking to a stubborn toddler. “You know … if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Parasites?”

“No.” Raphael wraps a glimmering curl coyly around one slender finger. “I was thinking more along the lines of dozens of hidden corners to get caught under and kiss.”

“My star …” Azrael inches closer, lowering his voice in the hopes that only his love will hear him “… if you want me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask. In fact, you don’t have to say a word. Just look my way and bat those golden eyelashes of yours. I’ll kiss you anywhere you want, wherever you want,” he emphasizes with a cheeky bounce of his eyebrows. “We don’t need mistletoe for that.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Raphael breathes in deep, exhales long. “If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I’m sure that I can summon a portal and send you back to your mortuary. Your grim, dreary, lonely mortuary, with that single, sad wreath on the door …”

Raphael sniffs theatrically.

Azrael rolls his eyes.

“Would spending the day here make you happy?” Azrael asks with the enthusiasm of someone about to have teeth pulled sans anesthetic in preparation for a lengthy root canal. “Really happy?”

“Yes,” Raphael answers hopefully, sparkling a vibrant gold like the nebula he is. “Effervescently.”

“I can see that,” Azrael mutters. “All right.” He drops down onto the hard bench, level with Raphael’s beaming gaze, and despite this whole headache, he smiles. What can he say? He loves to see his starshine happy. “Finish your cocoa and come along. We have a PG rating to tank.”

“Ooo! Is that one of your fantasies? Whisking me off to the woods like a cad and having your way with me?” Raphael asks, blithely misreading Azrael’s mood. Too eager to be on their way, he snaps his fingers, transforming his snowman mug into an argyle-printed Thermos to transport his cocoa in. He wouldn’t want to waste good cocoa. Real or not, it’s way too tasty to leave behind. “Oh! Shall I change into a dress? I know! Something Victorian! With a red-trimmed corset and …!”

Azrael catches Raphael’s hand before he can snap his fingers again.

“Raphael! You are a strong, fiercely independent archangel! I would not think to insult you by acting out a fantasy that employs such a flawed and sexist stereotype!”

“Oh,” Raphael squeaks, equal parts stunned by Azrael’s response as disappointed, causing his shimmer to dim. “Oh, I apologize. Yes. Yes, I see your point. I …”

Azrael brings Raphael’s hand to his mouth, a wicked grin spreading his lips as he kisses Raphael’s knuckles one at a time, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue on the soft web of skin in between, making Raphael’s glow go from brilliant to blinding. “That said - yes. Yes, it is. So please, if you don’t mind … wear the dress.”

***

The Hallmark Channel movie ‘Death Takes a Holiday’, which network execs couldn’t recall green lighting, not a single director remembered directing, nor likewise any of the writers recalled writing, was so insanely popular that, by virtue of a voracious, fan-led letter writing campaign, it ran for three weeks into the New Year, and prompted a sequel for Valentine’s - ‘Death Takes a Spouse’.