#please i can’t draw a fudging straight line

[purple-luna]

Art is fun they say, it’s not that hard they say

[pawsnread]

Untamed Fall Fest Day 20: Spice

Someone’s skewed sense of taste gets him into trouble now and again.

Part of the Camp Fire Tales From Cloud Recesses ficlet series.

The family reunion of sorts was going just fine. Lan Xichen and Jingyi had come over from the Berkshires with Lan Zhan after the end of Friday classes. The plan was for the Lan-Weis, the Jin-Jiangs, and the Song-Xiaos - along with Xichen, Jiang Cheng, and a couple of Nies in tow - to spend a bright, warm autumn day together. It was a playdate of sorts for all the kids, chasing each other and Sugar around the huge backyard while the adults talked and relaxed, forgetting for one day work and other troubles.

Everything was going fine, until…

“Wei Wuxian! Who let you into the kitchen?!”

“Of f…fudging course,” Jiang Cheng muttered. With an irritated sigh, he handed Jin Ling off to his father before following Xichen, Mingjue, and Lan Zhan into the house. In the large kitchen, they found Jiang Yanli at the stove, shaking her head as she stirred a pot of soup. “What did he do now?”

“See for yourself,” she replied with a wave. The four men followed her gesture to witness the standoff occurring across the kitchen isle. On one side, Xingchen was busy putting the finishing touches on what looked to be a pie. Song Lan stood next to him in a protective stance, an apple in one hand ready to throw.

“I was only trying to help,” Wei Wuxian protested from the other side of the kitchen isle. “You know, spice things up a bit.”

“Cinnamon,” Song Lan ground out through his teeth, “nutmeg, all spice. Cardamon. Sugar, a little bit of salt. That’s what you put in apple pie. Not chili powder.”

“Or sriracha powder,” Xingchen murmured as he finished with the pie crust and dusted off his hands.

“Maybe a little?” Wei Wuxian asked.

From the other side of the kitchen, Jiang Cheng let out an exasperated groan and hung his head. Xichen turned to his brother, some silent conversation passing between them before Lan Zhan gave a small shrug.

“Seriously?” Mingjue asked. “What is wrong with your sense of taste?”

“Just trying to make things interesting,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, interesting,” Song Lan huffed. He still hadn’t relaxed his posture, ready to chuck the apple in hand at a moment’s notice. “Like the time you snuck into the camp kitchens and spiced up the mashed potatoes?”

* * * * *

“Baked chicken, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, wheat rolls, ambrosia salad.” Jiang Cheng made a face as he read off the Cloud Recesses lunch menu. There wasn’t anything wrong with the menu, per se, but all the food sounded very bland considering the camp’s stinginess with seasonings.

“Streamed broccoli again?” Nie Huaisang bemoaned from behind him. “Isn’t this what we had for lunch yesterday? Where’s the variety?”

“It’s a healthy menu,” Lan Xichen argued as he and Lan Zhan lined up behind Huaisang. “A properly proportioned dose of lean protein, fiber, complex carbohydrates, and vitamins and minerals needed for growing adolescents.”

“Are you or are you not a teenager?” Jiang Cheng asked. “You need more than just rabbit food when you’re growing.” He gave Xichen a once over, eyes roaming him from head to feet. “Especially since it looks like you just had another growth spurt.”

A faint color brightened Xichen’s cheeks at the comment and Jiang Cheng’s scrutinizing gaze. Before he could respond, he was interrupted by a loud groan and the appearance of Nie Mingjue at his elbow, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen appearing shortly after.

“Chicken again?” he groaned. “Can’t we have some beef or something? Xichen, please talk to your uncle about the choices. I’m sure my dad could draw up a contract for some organic meat or something for the camp.”

“And the academy, please,” Song Lan interjected. “There’s a lot of athletes to feed. A steak now and again will do us some good.”

Xichen could only give a nod as they proceeded through the lunch line, more campers and counselors appearing after them. None of them spoke again as they accepted the food ladled onto their trays.

“Um…” Huaisang blinked down at the scoop of mashed potatoes that dropped onto his tray. “Why are they red?”

Whispers of curiosity and wonder flittered through the campers as everyone stared down at their serving of potatoes and the distinct red coloring they sported.

“That is new,” Xingchen said.

“Is that…paprika?” Mingjue asked, poking at his potatoes with his fork.

“Maybe someone decided to spice things up,” Song Lan said. With a shrug, he lifted his fork and took a bite. One moment, his face was expressionless as he chewed; the next, his cheeks had turned bright crimson as a coughing fit overcame him.

“Zichen?!” Xingchen called in alarm. His fork clattered onto his tray as he dropped it, food forgotten as he began speaking to Song Lan in a low soothing tone as he rubbed his back.

The sounds of surprise, shock, and pain started sounding throughout the cafeteria. In some far corner of the room, someone began to hiccup. Huaisang had gone pale before reaching for his glass of juice, chugging the liquid down in a matter of seconds before fanning himself furiously. Mingjue’s grip on his fork had before so tight the metal was beginning to bend. Xichen was experiencing the same uncontrollable coughing fit as Song Lan, face and neck turning pink with his efforts. Lan Zhan seeming unphased but his ears had gone an alarming shade of red.

Jiang Cheng blinked in confusion at the commotion around him before glancing down at his tray. Dark eyes narrowed suspiciously as he took a tentative taste of the potatoes. A deep frown pulled at his lips as the numbness began to overtake his tongue.

“He did not,” Jiang Cheng muttered.

“Who…” Song Lan choked out before another fit of coughing overcame him.

“Eh…they could be better.”

All heads turned to Wei Wuxian, who had suddenly appeared at Huaisang’s side. He was calm, sanguinely eating the mashed potatoes as if there were not moans of pain and curses sounding all around him.

“What?” he asked, chomping noisily on some broccoli. “It’s just a little seasoning.”

“What kind of seasoning?” Mingjue ground out, voice hoarse as if he had been yelling all day. Large beads of sweat had formed on his brow as he pawed at the front of his chest.

Wei Wuxian shrugged, his fork making a scraping noise as he scooped up the last of his potatoes. “Red savina…no, wait, that’s the wrong color. Ghost pepper, I think.”

“How many did you use?” Xingchen asked. Although he sounded calm, his eyes were wide with a look akin to fright.

“Three…four maybe.” He gave another little shrug before using the last of his wheat roll to mop up what of left of his food.

Horror slowly crossed everyone’s faces as they watched Wei Wuxian push his empty tray aside before pointing at Huaisang’s.

“Are you going to eat that?”

* * * * *

“They were still a little bland,” Wei Wuxian argued.

“You added four whole ghost peppers!” Song Lan nearly shouted. At the other end of the kitchen, Yanli blinked in confusion as identical expressions of revulsion passed over Xichen, Mingjue, Jiang Cheng, and even Lan Zhan’s faces. “Half the camp had indigestion and Wen Ning had the hiccups for three days straight!”

“Please don’t remind us,” Mingjue mumbled, one hand rubbing at his chest as he remembered phantom pains.

“They were still a little bland,” Wei Wuxian repeated. “Maybe I should have used Reapers instead.”

Before Song Lan could speak, Jiang Cheng stomped over to his side. Grabbing that bright red apple, he lobbed it at his brother, the fruit smashing into the floor as Wei Wuxian ducked.

“Why are you like this?!” Jiang Cheng asked, not for the first time in their lives.

“Do not throw fruit in my wife’s kitchen!” Jin Zixuan’s voice echoed from the outside.

“But…”

“Out!”

Everyone froze at the sound of Jiang Yanli’s shout, heads slowly swiveling in her direction. She stood with one hand on her hip, the wooden spoon she had been stirring with brandished in her hand like a sword ready to strike. There was a fury in her eyes that made each of the men shrink back when her gaze fell on them.

“Out, all of you,” she ordered, pointing to the door with that spoon. “If you’re not helping, then leave. My kitchen, my rules.”

“But sis…” Wei Wuxian tried to protest. He darted behind Lan Zhan as Yanli leveled her gaze on him.

There was another moment of silence until, starting with Jiang Cheng, one after another they left until only Xingchen remained. With a sigh, her gaze softened as Yanli turned to him, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Boys, all of them,” she murmured. “Now, really, ghost peppers? Four of them?”

“Unfortunately,” Xingchen said with a shrug.

“Did he try to spice up anything else?”

“Well…there was the incident with tapioca pudding.” As the soup simmered and the pie baked, filling the kitchen with their enticing scents, Xingchen regaled Yanli with stories of that fateful summer no counselor or camper - or their taste buds - was likely to forget.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Personal Demon (Indruck)

@pantstacular requested: 58 Is such my entire jam I’d pretty much die if you did it with Indruck.  “I’m a demon, you’re a witch, we’re enemies but when I show up to kill you, you’re crying and I really don’t know what to do now.” SFW

A talented, young warlock will employ the most complex, innovative, and powerful wards on their home. 

A seasoned warlock who was never that excited about all this in the first place will employ straightforward but deeply aggravating wards on their home. 

Indrid’s nemesis is in that second category. His wards are never fancy, but they’re durable and reliable, an utter pain in his tail to break down. Some cannot be broken by spells at all, and even a demon of his skill could burn through all his power trying to destroy them.

Which is why Indrid simply pays a passing human twenty dollars to kick a gap in the salt barrier, grits his teeth passing through the Rowan trees while his skin feels like he’s getting a full-body tattoo, and uses an oven mitt to open the iron door knob (the door is lined with iron, so he cannot slip as a shadow beneath it), hissing in pain all the while. 

“Duck Newton…” He lilts, certain the warlock will be terrified to hear his voice in his strong hold, “it is time to end things once and for all, dearest enemy.”

He keeps his eyes on the present, not wanting to spoil the fun for himself by peeking at the futures. He glides into the human’s bedroom, plants his feet on the floor, “your worthless soul is mine.” 

“Ughhhh” a muffled sound, Indrid flicking on the lights to find the human face-down on his bed, “are you fuckin serious? Now?”

“Yes, Duck Newton, now” dark energy crackles in his fingertips. 

Thwump

“Ack!” He shakes his head, Duck now sitting up, preparing to throw another pillow at him. 

“Get out.” Duck glowers, voice flat. 

“You dare to order me-”

Thwump

“Get!” Duck’s eyes are wet, red-rimmed, and Indrid notices he’s in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt that’s damp in patches. 

“Have you been crying?” 

Thwump and his glasses are knocked askew. 

“How many of those blasted things do you have?” 

Two hovering pillows turn to four and all collide with him at once.

“Clearly you are, ow, in no mindset to, ow, duel me as I, ack, see fit. I shall return!”

He dissolves into shadow and speeds out the door, materializing on the sidewalk and paying a passerby ten dollars to fix the salt ring. 

Not willing to let a plan go to waste, he repeats this process the next night. This time, Duck is laying in the darkened living room. 

“Now, my greatest adversary, it is time to meet your end--why are you still crying?” He cocks his head as Duck magics the light on. 

“Because I’m in my own fuckin’ house and can do whatever I want.”

“But you seem upset.”

“No fuckin shit, sherlock.” Duck raises a throw pillow and Indrid covers his face far faster than he’d ever admit in public.

“I merely mean that, ah, perhaps a duel would be a welcome change of pace?”

“I look like I’m in the headspace to duel to you?” 

“Not at the moment, but that could change, yes? I do wish to destroy you, is that sufficient motivation to shake off this fog of misery that’s hanging about your soul like stale cologne?”

Duck groans, but straightens, reaching over the far arm of the couch. Indrid perks up, approaches at a safe distance, certain he will see a familiar sword or spell in a moment. 

What he gets is misted with holy water.

He hisses, wiping his face in a hurry. His power is so great that the diluted mixture doesn’t harm him, but it’s as if someone is squirting him in the face with lemon juice. 

“I banished you worse ways than this, demon, but I’m fuckin tired and you ain’t worth the goddamn energy and you don’t wanna end up straight back below. So get.” He raises the spray bottle, spritzes him again and Indrid backs away, spluttering and hissing. 

“You, you think you can threaten me, shoo me out like OW some common ghost GAh that was in my nose that time fine, fine I am going.” He stumbles over the threshold, falling on his ass on the pavement as Duck slams the door. 

Perhaps a new plan is in order. 

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

“You wanna know Ducks’ what?” Aubrey taps her spoon on the edge of the potion she’s mixing. 

“His favorite food. I wish to cheer him up. Unless of course, you wish to simply tell me what is troubling him.” Indrid grins at the witch.

“You know the rules, Cold; I don’t trade information between sides. And, like, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you what’s going on with him. It’s...personal, okay?”

Indrid sighs. He expected that answer. Aubrey is the child of a witch of the light and a witch of the shadows, giving her a rare balance of powers. It also means entities of all moral alignments will come to her for aid. Her rules are simple; no fighting in her house and no getting her in the middle of major conflicts.

For all that, Indrid still has never told her his true name. She calls him ‘Cold,’ as everyone does. 

“French Onion Soup. That’s his favorite thing, from the Wolfe Grill downtown.”

“He likes that coffee fudge too, the one Barclay makes” Dani, Aubrey’s wife, adds from her spot spinning fur off a massive angora rabbit. 

Barclay is a kitchen witch, one with whom Indrid has a shaky truce (he egged on a fight in the restaurant, needing some quick points with the higher demons. It’s not his fault one of the humans knocked over a candle). He can probably manage to buy fudge without being scolded.

Duck’s added more fortifications since yesterday, and Indrid only needs a few moments anyway. He finds a sliver in a plane that lets him slip into Duck’s mirror, knowing the human is getting ready for bed. 

The human senses him, looks up from the sink, toothbrush still in his mouth. He blinks once, to tired to even count as annoyance.

“ ‘wat ‘ow?”

“I have brought you food.” Indrid waits until Duck spits into the sink to pass the two bags out of the mirror. 

“Why-”

“It will cheer you up. It is your favorite. Then you will have your fight back, and be ready to face me.”

Duck takes the bags, then several steps back, “y’know, most demons would see this is a chance to get me while I’m down.”

“Well” Indrid sniffs haughtily, “I am not most demons. Besides, what good is claiming your soul if it was like stepping on an ant?”

The warlock looks at the food, then at Indrid, “I ain’t gonna eat this.”

“Bu-wha-I got it specifically to please you!”

“And it could be poisoned or cursed or some shit.”

Indrid growls in frustration, “fine, wallow in your misery.” Then he’s out on the street again, ready to cause some evil. Or to go back to the bakery and drown his aggravation in a caramel eggnog latte.

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

Duck stares at the bags, still sitting on his kitchen counter. If he’s not going to bed any time soon, he should at least eat something. Not that though. Even if it’s his favorite. How the fuck did the demon know that?

Cold has never quite been like other demons Duck’s run across. When he’d yanked him out of Boyd (because Ned decided to read the inscription on a new artifact for the Cryptonomica), he hadn’t taken it personally, but proceeded to try and tempt Duck for two days solid with everything he could think of. Then he decided he liked Kepler and could do plenty of demonic work in it, which had Duck worried. The demon is powerful, he can feel it when they fight. But, while he still worries, Cold sticks to being a mid-level threat at best even if he keeps promising to destroy him.

God that soup smells good. 

He picks up a piece of amethyst, runs it over and over the air around the bag. No trace of anything dangerous. 

Fuck it.

Twenty minutes later his belly is full, he actually feels kinda sorta almost borderline happy, and he hasn’t turned into a frog or been transported to the underworld. 

When Cold inevitably shows up again a few days later, Duck doesn’t even look up from the model ship he’s working on . 

“Thanks for, uh, for dinner.” 

“How did you know I was here?” The silver-haired man steps out of the hall, red eyes glowing behind redder glasses. 

“I may not be able to sense auras or souls or shit, but you and I been dancin around each other for long enough that I can tell when the hair on my neck is standin up thanks to you.”

“Then you are prepared to fight?”

“No. Look, I dunno now how it is for demons, but takes more than nice food to make a fella get over somethin serious.”

“I see…” Cold looks around the room, “are you certain you are not interested in even a small bit of conflict?”

“Nope. Busy.”

“Well I am not!”

“Can’t you just go find another warlock to bother?””

“No! Well, yes, but I do not wish to. You are my adversary, the one I devote most of my time to tormenting.”

“That’s kinda an exaggeration. And it don’t change that I’m workin on this.” He points to the model, “so I’m just gonna ignore you until you leave.”

There’s a huff, followed by the fluttering of his mail as the demon knocks it onto the floor. He glances up and notices that Cold’s tail is now visible and twitching with agitation. When Duck does nothing else, he knocks the remaining mail on the ground. 

“That ain’t changin my mind.”

A roll of glass on tile, Cold pushing a water glass towards the edge of the counter with his finger. 

“Y’won’t like what happens if you do that.”

The glass tips over. As water spills onto the floor, Duck summons a towel with one hand and a dish of salt with the other. Before the demon can stop him, he draws a salt circle, trapping him in a small spot by the table. 

“Erase that this instant.”

“Nope. You been poppin in and out the last two weeks and not leavin when I ask nicely, so now you’re gonna stay right here until I decide you can leave.”

The demon drops down onto the floor, arms crossed and tail thrashing, “I just do not see what is so severe it makes you uninterested in anything but work, sleep, and making ships that cannot go anywhere.”

“Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Yes, but you also will not tell me so how can you know if-” a future flickers into vision, “your romantic partner left you.”

“That’s cheatin’.”

“That is what has upset you so?”

“Yeah, because we were together for six fuckin years, and she watched me grow up since I was eighteen and was my mentor and it feels like a big constant in my life is just fuckin gone.” He leaves out the part where he'd felt it going for awhile, where part of him knew it needed to but the rest wanted things to stay as they were. 

The demon cocks his head in that way of his, smirks but says nothing.

“Nevermind. You’re a demon, love ain’t somethin you got a concept of.” He stands, retrieving another bottle of adhesive from the too-empty living room. 

As he picks up the next piece, Cold murmurs, “It is not so foreign a concept as you might think.”

Duck shoots him an incredulous look. 

“I was a creature of the divine once, beings capable of great love, even if many of them do not utilize that capacity. Even if I was not supposed to in my role. But more than the memory of that feeling, I have moments in which I suspect I can feel it still.”

“Like when you see someone do somethin real wicked?” 

The demon doesn’t rise to the paltry bait, “When I go sit in a park, or those woods you like, and draw and watch people coming and going in a thousand little moments of mundanity, I feel something more than mere tranquility. Sometimes I will go to movies or to concerts, to feel the swell of joy and excitement, and it almost seems as if I love those around me.”

It’s the last thing Duck expects him to say, and so all he can do is stare at him a moment before returning to his work. The demon, content with the silence, watches cross-legged. When Duck grabs a packet of cookies from the kitchen he pauses, then hands one to Cold. 

The demon sniffs it, proceeds to nibble on the edge before making a delighted sound and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. 

“You never had Girl Scout cookies before?”

“No. I do not need to eat, and often only do so when temptation requires it. Or when Barclay makes something with eggnog in it.  Which is a pity; I really enjoy human food, you come up with such interesting things. Now it is my turn for a question. Why are you making those?”

Duck looks at the near-complete model, “I dunno. Helps me relax, nice to just be able to focus on one thing rather than worryin’ about work or warlock stuff or dyin’ alone or if you’re gonna randomly turn up in my goddamn bedroom without warnin’.”

“Knocking is not exactly demonic.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, the smile on his face oddly honest, that Duck cracks up. Giggles spill out of him as he rests his face in his hands. His elbows slip on the shiny tabletop, collapsing him forward, laughing loud enough to startle the cat from her hiding place. 

“Yeah” he sniffs, finally sitting up while wiping away tears and still chuckling, “guess it ain’t.”

The demon is smiling again, softer than his usual grin that glints like a knife in the dark. 

“Will you show me more of your ships?”

“You ain’t gettin outta that circle that easy.”

“I am aware. But you could bring them where I could see.” He seems genuinely excited at the idea. 

Duck stands, hands him the packet of Thin Mints, “I could do that, yeah. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

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

Duck picks up to the two reusable grocery bags, locking doors and throwing up extra wards behind him as he walks to his car. 

He slides into the drivers seat, sets the bags in back behind him. Turns around and finds the passenger seat occupied. 

“Venturing forth at last, I see.”

“I ventured forth plenty.”

“That was only for work. You have been the picture of a hermit since you were dumped, Duck Newton.” Cold adjusts his glasses in the rear-view mirror. 

“Have not. And it was mutual.”

“Shall we get out of the car so I can destroy you?”

“We could do that. Or…” he points at the bags, the demon peering into them curiously, “we could take these two bags of snacks to a concert in the park.”

Cold bites his lip. Duck holds his breath, already gearing up his spells in case the demon says no.

A seatbelt clicks, “very well.”

They find a spot under some trees, far back from the crowd. Cold is in his human disguise, but Duck would rather not risk being seen if his tail or horns make an appearance. The concert is all movie soundtracks that Duck doesn’t pay attention to. He’s too busy watching the demon gleefully explore the food he brought (he chose the weirdest desserts and snacks he could find, wanting to give him a taste of things he’d never had) and talking with him about more or less everything.

As they’re getting into the car under the light of the half moon, Cold sighs happily, “we should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, we could. Just uh, don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

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

Duck is up to his elbows in the pieces of an IKEA dresser when Cold’s voice comes through the mirror.

“I need to be let in right now please and thank you.”

He sounds pained, so Duck hurries out to the front yard and opens the circle, allowing the demon to pass through. He’s hunched at an odd angle, clutching at his back. Once they’re inside he strips off his coat, revealing a splinter at the base of his neck. 

“Shit, what happened?”

“I materialized in the house of a well-prepared witch and was immediately backed into a Hawthorne bush. Lucky I am not a vampire, but gracious it stings.”

“Why come to me?” Duck is already guiding him to the couch.

“I thought you might be able to help. Also it is movie night.”

Duck examines the injury; it’s a small splinter, but the skin is already looking sickly. 

“Should be an easy fix. Lemme get my tools and I can get to work.”

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

Indrid waits patiently for Duck to return, tries not to hiss at him too loudly when he pulls the splinter free. The human works quickly, and soon a tingling salve coats the sore spot. 

Rather than pull away, Duck smooths his hands down Indrid’s back, “damn, you’re all knotted up.”

“I was trying not to move too much and aggravate it.”

Duck’s thumbs rub small circles along his back, “here, I can fix that real easy.”

Indrid foresees where his fingers will touch next and let’s his desire overtake his caution. When Ducks hands come down again, he whimpers and wiggles happily. 

“Uhhhhh”

“It is my wings. In a way. They exist on another plane when not manifested here, and where you are touching is the place where it feels as you are stroking them.”

“That a good thing?”

“Yes, but you do not need to continue if you do not waAAhnnnt” he gasps as Duck slowly, steadily, runs his fingers over the spot again and again. 

The human leans forward, giggling, and whispers in his ear, “you’re purrin’.”

“I am awarerrrrrrrr.” His tail and horns appear, seeming to understand there is no need to hide here.  One of Duck’s hands skates up to his head, petting his hair and stroking his horns.

He whines, pushes his head into Duck’s hand for more. 

“Is this-”

“No Duck Newton, it is not sexual. It can be, but at the moment it simply feels comforting and pleasurable.” He purrs louder as Duck rubs the base of one horn. 

“That’s a good, uh, good demon? Bein’ so patient while I patch him up.” Duck coos. 

“Yes.” Indrid whimpers. 

“Lookit you, goin all mushy on me, so goddamn cute. Who knew you had it in you.”

“Duck.” Something is coiling through his veins, warm and ecstatic, as the human keeps up his stream of praise.

“Right here, demon of mine, just relax, lemme tend to you, there we go, you’re bein so good, such a charmin demon.”

Tears prick his eyes; he can’t, he can’t handle Duck speaking this way but speaking as if Indrid could be changed out for any one of his kind. He wants to know he means those words for him, he must, the feelings flooding him are incomplete without it and if they remain so he will wither away.

“Indrid, please, call me that.”

“Indrid.” It sounds joyous in that drawl as Duck adds a hint of pressure to his touches, “Indrid, you oughta stop gettin into trouble, oughta just stay here and put your head in my lap.”  The human is getting carried away, the fantasies becoming more elaborate, interspersed with his name, until the name itself becomes the litany. 

Indrid cries out, the energy in his veins enveloping him utterly for a moment, wings of absolute darkness flashing into view for an instant

He collapses forward, shaking, hoping the thanks pouring from his mouth are intelligible. 

“You, uh, you doin’ okay--Oh FUCK!”

Indrid whirls, finds Duck staring at his arm. There are glowing markings on it, blue and black light fading into a facsimile of ink on his skin. 

“What did you do?”

“What did I do? What makes you think this has anything to do with me?”

“Because this wasn’t there a minute ago! And you got one too!”

“I…” Indrid gapes at his forearm, where a matching symbol is setting in his skin. “Oh dear.”

“What?”

“It is, ah, well, it is a soul bond.”

“How in the everlovin’ fuck did that happen--wait, fuck, is Indrid your true name?”

“Yes.” 

“Shit! I thought you gave me another false one, or I never woulda kept saying it. I ain’t that kind of warlock, I don’t want a personal demon.”

“I am not exactly thrilled either. I cannot return to the underworld, and for the first few days of the bond I will need to stay very close to you. All the same, that was rash of me and I am sorry.”

Duck rubs his forehead, takes a deep breath, “we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, all I wanna do is sleep.”

“I as well. I suspect that took a lot of energy from both of us.”

The human stands, heading off towards the bedroom. As soon as he’s out of sight, pangs pulse through Indrid’s chest.

“Ah, Duck?”

A groan, “yeah, I feel it too. Get in here.”

Indrid hurries to the bed, finds Duck down to his boxers as he turns over the covers. 

“I, ah, I can sleep on the floor, or get a blanket for that chair, or lay by your feet.”

Duck pats the bed, “sleepin next to you ain’t nothin’ compared to bein’ soul bonded. Bed feels too big anyway. And none of that by my feet talk; you’re my equal, not my fuckin pet, even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.”

Indrid crawls in beside him, lays stiffly on his back as the lights go out. After so much contact, his body aches to touch Duck again. 

A hand rests in the space between them, and Indrid takes it.

“Duck? I, ah, I am glad that if this had to happen to me, it was you who it happened with. I cannot think of another warlock I would actually enjoy being linked too.”

“Feelin’s mutual.” Duck squeezes his hand, voice gentle.

Indrid rolls to face him, and in the dark he can just make out the slight smile on the warlock’s face. 

“Goodnight, Duck.”

A yawn, then, “sleep tight, Indrid.”

[dear-mrs-otome]

Kinktober - Oct 3rd: Sensory Deprivation

A quickie at the last minute, because I was hella busy today T_T Also: Please note the liberal use of authorial license here - this poem is a shunga poem and probably didn’t exist in the Sengoku but you know what? if I can’t fudge stuff like that as a writer, why am I doing this? <3 (thanks to @otomelin for helping me track one down)

~~~~

Agarwood and sandalwood and cinnamon. That’s all that you can smell, your nose overwhelmed by the heavy weight of incense on each shallow breath you draw. Every lungful a soft rush of sound - the only sound in fact - that you can hear save for the timpani of your own heartbeat.

The world has been narrowed to a handful of sensations. The smooth slip of silk against your eyelashes as they flutter uselessly open, the tacky wax that’s been pressed over your ears, the faint downy comfort of the futon beneath you. Smoke cloying your lungs and your tongue, and the cool fingers of the night breeze that brush over your bare skin.

And every so often, just enough so that you can’t predict when or where, those invisible intangible hands become real - the flesh of your lover ghosting over yours faintly. A caress of the jaw here, a fingertip testing the tight pebble of your nipple. You can feel, more than hear, the deep timbre of his laugh as you flinch and bite your lip - far off and dangerous, like a distant rockslide.

Then his hand is replaced by the quiet whisper of a brush, conversing with your skin. Scrawling delicate secrets across the pages of your frame. 

It takes until the third time for you to realize they are words.

Until the fifth for you to recognize them from his letters, countless letters, sent to tide you through those long, empty nights when duty is his mistress.

Eyes that question chase the falling dew.

The feathery tip of the bristles circles your breast, before the next line is traced between them, over your heart, and the world falls away to this. Everything you are suspended from the thread of a single exquisite word, twisting and turning at his whim.

Watching this pale sky what do you see?

Each stroke seems to draw a line of fire, racing straight to meld with the heat between your thighs, setting you squirming. Your hands clenching in the covers beneath you but you don’t dare break the unspoken rules. Don’t dare to reach for him...but there’s never any need. He always comes to you. Eventually.

One flower opening beneath the plum-tree's branch.

The brush dips down, taunting, teasing. Strokes delicately amongst the slick folds between your legs and comes away wet, before it unfurls the next line on the canvas of your trembling belly, over your womb. Painting you with your own desire, making an ink of your own arousal. The characters left damp and full of aching, aching promises - made all the sweeter because you know he always keeps them. Eventually.

Leaves in the moonlight making their new song.

[rockfairy-blog]

Babysitting Archangels  -Supernatural Summer of Heroes Challenge

Challenge: Supernatural Summer of Heroes Challenge!! @gone-to-fight-the-fairies thanks for giving me a chance!! This is my First time writing, So if you have backup please do tell! Pairing: Castiel x Reader.

Word count: 2,548 Summary: You are in the bunker babysitting Gabriel and Lucifer with the help of Castiel while Chuck and the Winchesters are away. Prompt: "Good strange or bad strange?" -Thor Warnings: Coursing, Fluff, Mention of Smut.

 A/N: I also tag some tumblers users that I like reading, hope you don't mind and tell me what do you think of my first fan fic. @wayward-mirage @lucis-unicorn @teamarchangel @webcricket @gone-to-fight-the-fairies

-------------------- It was a quiet night at the bunker for the Winchesters, Cas and you when suddenly you were interrupted by a voice. "Hey boys! Hey Y/N !" Chuck was standing in the middle of the library. "I need a favor from you guys" he confessed "The thing is I rebuilt Lucifer and Gabriel vessel... I want to put order back into heaven but that would be impossible without some of the archangels help. So I decided that they will stay here while I rearrange things to keep them out of the radar and stay safe". You heard a flutter of wings and Gabriel and Lucifer were standing next to Chuck. Sam's face tensed as he saw Lucifer. "Oh no, no, no... are you fucking kidding Chuck?!" Dean was standing up "This is not archangel nursery!" "I don't wanna play the almighty card but I'm not asking" Chuck turned away from Dean and face Cas "Castiel, I'm counting on you to keep an eye on your brothers". Everybody turn to look at Cas who was as surprised as the rest of you. And with that said Chuck disappeared. You were in your seat with and awe expression trying to assimilate what just had happened. You turn to look at your new roomies. Gabriel was standing with a lolly in his mouth and a mischievous look on his eyes. Oh, those whiskey eyes were staring right at you! Then you turn to look at Lucifer, a look of boredom on his icy blue eyes, hands crossed on his chest.

Sam grabbed the laptop and  sighed "Yeah, I'm going to look for a new case, one that take us out of the bunker" In less than an a hour the boys were on their way to  Indiana in what seems to be a Vampire nest case. You were so crossed with them because they left you behind since they didn't trust to leave the Archangels alone. The last thing that Dean told you was that Cas was going to give you a hand babysitting them as they drive away in the impala. You return to the war room and find the 3 angels staring at you in what it seems an uncomfortable silence.  You couldn't believe that you were stuck alone with 3 Angels so you convinced yourself that for this to work you needed to set boundaries. "So...Cas will show you your rooms and my room is totally off limits" Gabriel headed beside you and put an arm around your waist "I call dibs in sharing rooms with you cupcake" a smirk on his lips and raising his eyebrows, his eyes dazzled you for a moment, as you felt a pinch in your stomach. You shook your head and  move away rolling your eyes trying to keep your voice as normal as can be "Perhaps not “cupcake”!”. "Brother please" Cas was looking at Gabriel, his jaw was starting to tense. "Relax Cassie! This is going to be fun" Gabriel let himself fall on the chair crossing his feet on the table. He turned to face you raising a questioning eyebrow as a half-smile appeared on his face “Did you know that I was leading Actor on a movie sugar?” you could feel your cheeks turning red. Lucifer watch the scene with curiosity, you could feel his cold stare going from you back to Cas. He really made you nervous. A half smirk appeared on his lips "Maybe this is going to be interesting after all" he winked at you as his gaze ran through your body making the moment too intense. You instantly felt a burning blush running all over your face. "Anyway I have research to do so I'll be in my room" you mumbled taking off as quick as you could feeling your cheeks burning and your stomach twitching. As you were walking down the hallways to your room, you felt completely stupid. Why were you hiding in your room when they were the intruders? You couldn't think straight. After closing the door and laying on the bed you heard someone knock. You took a deep breath and open just to find Cas standing there "Y/N I came to check if you were okay" those blue eyes staring intensely back at you.  It almost felt like if he was looking for something, you could really get lost just by looking at him. "I am fine Cas, it's just a weird situation" you answered. He rest his hands into your shoulders, an electric current travel all over your body at his touch "I want to apologize for my Brothers, Gabriel is all fun and games and Lucifer well... he is Lucifer. But I'll make sure they don't bother you" he promised as he left you alone.

 Every time you touched Cas or even when your arms brushed you felt that way. You were head over heels for him for a long time now, but him being an Angel and being your best friend, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship, anyway most likely he didn’t felt the same way about you.

The next morning you decided that hiding in your room was out of the question, you were a hunter for God's sake, you needed to take control and prove it so after stopping by the kitchen for some coffee, you headed to the library to continue the research you left off. Lucifer was there holding a book in his hand. “Good morning Lucifer!” you smiled at him. He just followed you with a deep stare as you sat by the open laptop.

 You could feel his eyes fixed upon you so you open a few books and tried your best to ignored him and concentrate on your work. After a while you were completely focused on the investigation when suddenly you felt him standing behind you. He leaned close to your right ear “You are mumbling little girl! Anything I can help you with?” you could feel his cold breath against your neck sending instant shivers down your spine, not in a scary way but in exciting way.

 You regained composure and turn to face him “No, yes... I am having trouble with this Enochian translation”. He took the book from you brushing your knuckles as you stood still just staring at him. “It's really simple actually, do you want me to give you private enochian lessons or did my presence makes you so nervous that you can't concentrate?”

 That was it! you weren't gonna feel like a fool in front of them as they toy around with you and your pride. You took a deep breath, an arrogant smirk in your lips “Oh honey making me nervous... you wish!” you snapped at him “You might be the devil but I can kick your ass anytime so take it down a notch”. A smile draw on his face as if it were a challenge, his eyes lighting up “Oh I can do something about that”.

 Castiel wondered in the library with 3 paper bags. “Y/N I brought you something for lunch” the tension building in the room quickly dissipated. You smiled thankfully at Cas for interrupting as you went to check the bags contents. “Thanks Cas! You are always so timely. I am starving!” giving him a hug. Cas stiffened a little at your touch “You work too much Y/N”. He stood there watching you with a dreamy eyes. But of course you didn't notice it. Lucifer rolled his eyes at the two of you, he yell out “Oh, Boring!” and walked away from the library.

 Gabriel appeared on the room “What are we eating? Did you brought desserts?” Cas just sighed and hand out one of the paper bags to Gabriel “It was supposed to be for Y/N”. Gabriel hurry to open it to get out the slice of chocolate cake.

 “Well letting her eat alone is rude, it's weird Cassie for someone as tight up as you I thought you would have better manners” Gabriel smiled as he snapped his fingers and the library table was covered with different sweets and cakes. “Whatcha say Sugar, do you want me to sweet up your day?”. You couldn't help but laugh at the terrible pickup line. Cas couldn't help but smile at hearing you laugh. Maybe being around the archangels wasn't so bad after all.

 The rest of the day went quickly as Cas, Gabriel and you played real life Candyland. You ended all cover up in chocolate fudge so you headed to your room to take a nice bath, of course not without first hearing Gabriel shouting “If you need help taking that chocolate off count me in babe”.

 Cas face turn into a bright red color and threw a punch at him “What..? Geez little bro” he just smug. “In your dreams!” you shouted back, you turned to see Cas and gave him a smile while you walk away. How much you wished those words came out from Cas instead, just thinking of his lips touching your skin made you feel hot.

 As you were taking your well deserved bath, and of course scrubbing your skin off from the fudge, you couldn't help to wonder if Castiel would ever see you as something more than a friend and how it would be like to kiss him?

 Stepping out of the bathtub you wrapped yourself on a fluffy white towel and you stepped out sliding the curtain just to see a pair of ice blue eyes staring you back. “What the hell are you doing here Lucifer!” you were in shock. He took his time to scan you as he calmly answer “Excuse me, am I bothering you?” a devilish smile on his face.

 You were furious “I told you clearly my room was off limits! Do I have to draw an Enochian sigil for you to understand?” He raised his hand caressing his chin and walked towards you “First of all little girl I am not breaking any rules, the bathroom is not your bedroom so it's within boundaries; and second  I was wondering if I could break that cocky attitude of yours and make you shiver”. You stood there completely frozen, his face just inches from your face, he smile as he whispered to your ear “Come on! They say girls dig bad boys. So how would you feel to be with the Biggest Bad boy of them all.”

 You raise your arm to block him and with a maneuver that Sam taught you pushed Lucifer down to the floor “Feisty!! This is exciting!”. “CASTIEL!!” you yelled out loud.

 A preoccupied Castiel appeared in the bathroom “What is it Y/N? What's wrong?” as he turned to face you his face turned bright red with just the towel wrapping your body.

 Lucifer just smiled “Maybe on another occasion little girl, I don't like sharing” and chuckled. Castiel was absolutely out of himself you never had seen him so angry. It was like wrath itself seized him. “Enough!! Hear me well Lucifer you will never ever set a finger upon Y/N again, she is mine.... to protect”. At that point you literally stop breathing, that last thing that Cas said made your heart and stomach twitch. Lucifer burst into laughter “And you are supposed to contain me little brother?”

 Gabriel popped into the room and look at you then at the angels “Rude! Were you planning to invite me to the party?” with that said the tension loosen up. Lucifer just back off and sighed “We were just playing Castiel, really even that schmuck of Crowley isn't as stiff as you”

 “Cant a girl is able to take a relaxing bath?? I want you out of here right know before I get in serious bitch-kicking-your-ass mode” you simply snapped. “Well you are welcome to spank me if you wish honey” Gabriel was just playing funny but one hard look at him with all the fury you kept in you and he just disappeared same as Lucifer.

 “Castiel …wait!” you only sighed.

  “Sorry Y/N I can't control my temper with them behaving with you like that” he clenched his hands into fists. You grab his hands to try to calm him down “Cas what is happening? You are not acting like yourself. Is everything okay?” You were totally surprised by his attitude after all you were the one offended.

 Cas turn to look at you “it's only that I have been feeling strange around you for some time now and I don't know what to do” the gravel of his voice thickened. You could tell that his anger had washed away, he took your hands and look right into you. A look of worrying pass and turned in was it... shyness??

 “Strange?” you asked him starting to panic you just couldn't bear the thought of losing him “Good strange or Bad strange?” the worry was all in your face.

 “Well…” he sighed as he stared at your lips and then returning his bright blue eyes back to yours. “It will all depend on your next reaction”.

 Cas place a hand in your hip while the other grab your hair pulling you closer to him. HE pressed his lips on yours. You froze for just a few seconds completely astonished  and as the kiss grew deeper you kiss him back pulling him as close to you as you could by his trench coat. You felt Castiel mouth curl into a smile and in that moment you knew you're angel felt the same way about you as you did for him.

 “I was worried that with my brothers here you would just forget about me. I'm just a simple Angel compared to archangels but trust me when I say that no one could love you as much as I do”

 A happy tear fell through your cheeks as he confess himself to you. His hand carefully wiped the tear away.

  “My rogue angel, I am sure that there is not another being more perfect for me than you.” your hands travel to hold him from the back of his neck and you kissed him with such passion that his eyes change from blue to a darker shade for the lust you inspired as the towel that covered you fell to your feet.

 The expression of astonishment in Cas face is something you would cherished forever. A half smirk so uncommon of him draw on his lips as a husky voice exclaimed “I swear I will smite anyone who tries to interrupt us”.

 You just grab him by the tie and pulled him to you “Cas, shut up and kiss me”