my hair is a wild beast

Y’know, I really appreciate Urbosa’s characterization in BOTW. Instead of making her that inappropriately flirty cougar type that Nintendo is so fond of using, (I’m looking at you great fairies,) they just kinda made her the mom?

I mean, look at her.

“Well, I’m sorry your mom died of a plot contrivance, and your father is an ulcerated dickblister, but good news, you’re mine now. I’m gonna buy you so many books. Do your chores and you can steer the Divine beast. Then we can braid each other’s hair and throw rotten fruit at men from Gerudo town’s walls. Link you better protect my precious daughter or I’ll crush your fucking skull between my thighs.”

Like, I’m imagining Riju making a pilgrimage to meet her ancestor’s spirit and the first thing Urbosa says to her is, “Did you eat breakfast this morning? Hold on I’ll make you some porridge.”


Originally posted by wildling-heart

Request Summary: Negan is out with a few of his men and finds this girl in a forest. She’s really anxious and on edge and whenever there is a walker or one of Negan’s men tries to touch her she is all jumpy (and maybe hides behind Negan’s back and stuff)

Okay I’m gonna give a crack at this. I was originally going to do it in Negan’s POV but I couldn’t get it right. I’m happy with the way it turned out in the Readers POV. Sorry it’s short. Thank you for the request! :D

I woke from the dreams of my past. A simpler happier time where you didn’t have to worry about dead people eating your face off. Something that seemed like a dream now. Giving the reality we live in.

Or maybe I woke up to the loud footsteps and laughing. I sat up in the small barely standing tent. Pulling on my boots I quickly settled in a crouched position ready for a fight if they came this way. Going off how loud they were they most likely were close.

“Did you find any Goddamn thing yet?” Asked a loud booming voice making my heart want to jump out of my chest.

The grip on my small pocket knife tightening. I would have much preferred the gun I had a few days ago but it was empty. No good to me other than a blunt weapon.

Keep reading

Taming Thor

(300 words a day, I’m joining in!)


“Has anyone seen my whip?”

It’s Odin, sitting at the end of the table, skin still a bit red from his morning ride, eyes moving from Thor to Frigga because one of them has to know where it is. It was there in the stables that morning, he ought to know, he used it, and when he paid the horses a visit later with the moonlight perched on his shoulders it was gone.

Frigga turns to Thor, holding an apple slice she’d just dipped in some honey inches from her lips, “have you taken one of the horses for a ride today?”

And then she answers her own question, “no, you couldn’t have, you stayed in all afternoon. It was really hot outside today. You were resting in your room, I suppose?”

Thor clears his throat and moves around in his chair, keeping his eyes on his plate, “resting, yeah.”

“See, darling,” Frigga says to Odin, “it wasn’t him.”

Odin frowns and looks up from his plate, “where’s-”

The doors to the dining hall open and Loki walks in, black hair still wet from the shower and sits next to Thor.

“There you are,” Odin says, “have you seen my whip, Loki?”

Thor nudges Loki’s ankle with his boot under the table.

Loki blinks at Odin, “oh dear, has it gone missing again?”

“It has. And not for the first time, as you’ve mentioned.”

“Well,” Loki says and picks up his fork, “you better keep a close eye on it. Perhaps someone has been borrowing it to tame some wild, wild beast, use it as a leash to keep it in line and keep it from biting.”

Odin frowns, “what wild beast? We have none of those around here.”

“You never know, some kind hearted beasts turn wild on long summer days such as this one. It’s the heat. Drives them insane.”

Odin gives Loki a weird look before going back to his dinner.

Loki eyes Thor’s neck and nudges his knee.

Thor looks at him, gets the hint, remembers, and quickly pulls the ends of his collar together to hide the traces of those beautiful red markings running across his neck and clears his throat, blushing all the way up to his ears.

Both bite their lips to hold their smiles in.

A Rose by Any Other Name

The snow fell in soft petals over the imposing gray castle, an eternal winter that was becoming more comfortable by the day. Sheltered beneath a worn, shingled roof sat two figures, one vastly larger than the other. To a very distant observer, it would have looked like two young people who were courting. But the truth was far more fantastical.

Belle pushed the snow with the tip of her brown leather boot, listening with rapt pleasure as the deep baritone voice beside her resonated throughout her body. Beast sat close to her on the stone bench inside the gazebo reciting Hamlet, his hulking frame radiating pleasant warmth in the small space “This to thine own self be true-”

“What is your name?” Belle interrupted. As much as she wanted to continue the play, this question had been nesting in her head for some time.

Beast’s sapphire blue eyes tore themselves from the tome in his lap to stare at her, “What?”

“Well,” Belle continued, shrugging her shoulders beneath her cloak, “it doesn’t feel proper to call you ‘Beast’ when that isn’t you’re name. It’s rather rude really.”

“Hmpf,” he looked thoughtful beside her, “To be quite honest, I haven’t heard my true name in a very long time. The servants always refer to me as master. I suppose one just gets used to titles.”

“Well,” Belle grinned, “shall we play a game then?”

“Oh?” Half of the Beasts mouth quirked up into a smirk, “And what game would that be?”

“I will try and guess your name.”

The Beast barked out a laugh. Had Belle not been around him for this long already, the loud sound would have been startling. For a moment, it seemed as though he would refuse, but he only focused his stunningly blue eyes to her brown and said quite seriously, “I could just tell you, you know.”

Belle waved a hand flippantly at him, “Please, where is the fun in that? Shall I start now? No hints!”

He chuckled, “Alright, alright. No hints.”

She leaned forward, seeming to inspect his face. Her proximity was startling. Deep in his powerful chest, Beast could feel his heart picking up a wild tattoo; dear heavens she smelled nice. Like tea and vanilla.

Belle snapped her fingers, “Your name is Jeàn!”

Beast snorted, “Not even close.”

“Hm,” Belle’s dark eyebrow raised, “Raul then.”

“Are you mad? My father was a terrible man, but not that terrible.”


“I may have a tail now, but I certainly didn’t have one at birth.”


“Certainly not.”


The Beast made a gagging noise.

“Oh dear,” Belle laughed, “I think I may have lied and could possibly need a hint.”

How could such a slip of a girl lift his spirits so high? He loved how her voice sounded like chimes. “Oh come now,” The Beast insisted, edging closer to her, “try again. I promised no helping.”

Sighing, Belle looked skyward. After a moment of silence she said, “You are certainly not a Francois, nor are you a Louis. No, I believe you have a strong name. Like all of the literary heroes.”

“You give me far to much credit.” The Beast rumbled.

Belle nudged his arm with her shoulder. She was so small compared to him, so seemingly fragile. He took great care to stay still, pleased when she settled against him, “I feel like you give yourself to little credit,” she insisted, “perhaps you are in fact named Lancelot.”

“Only if you are Guinevere.” He said softly. The Beast had believed he’d spoken quietly enough for her to miss it, but the way she stiffened against him caused him mild panic, “I-I am so sorry. That was out of line, that would insinuate-”

“It’s alright,” she murmured, smiling up at him, “that is a lovely compliment.”

The Beast cleared his throat, looking out across the frozen lake, “Well, my name is not Lancelot either. Do you have anymore guesses?”

Belle looked thoughtfully at him again before saying, “Let me think on it a bit. Will you keep reading?”

The book in his lap opened to the page they had left off on, and The Beast began reading again, as he could refuse her nothing.


After a time, he paused and glanced down at her, “Have anymore guesses?”

Belle sighed, stretching her legs out straight in front of her, “I’m afraid to keep guessing. It’s more difficult than I thought it would be.”

“May I give a hint?”


“My name is a little unconventional.”

Belle’s brown eyes lit with interest, “Go on!”

The Beast chuckled, “It is only four letters.”

The wheels in her mind were turning, what on earth could it be?

“Any guesses now?”

After about a minute it was obvious she was becoming frustrated, “I feel quite silly,” Belle admitted finally, “I wanted to be able to guess, but I truly have no idea. I feel like any name I say simply would not suit you!”

Shaking his head, Beast rumbled, “Belle, any name you call me I would answer too.”

He noticed her cheeks tinged pink at that, “I’ve been living in your home and I don’t even know your birth name.” She said, “It makes me feel quite awful. I run through any name and they fall flat compared to you. I always felt like my name was misgiven, so I would feel simply awful to-”

The Beast felt the hair at the nape of his neck bristle, “What do you mean your name was misgiven?”

“I mean,” Belle looked gestured at herself, “look at me. I’m a simple girl from a village where I am called odd at best. I have no fancy clothes or home, I have freckles and eyes are brown. I am thinner than most girls. My boots are always muddy and my hands have callouses. My hair is always a mess so I have to keep it tied back. I am certainly not fair or considered beautiful by society’s standards.”

The Beast shook his head, trying to quell the anger surging through him. What kind of a backwards hovel was this village she came from? “Belle,” he said, voice low and deep like thunder, “your name is pale in comparison to you, so in that way, yes, it does not suit you. There is no name in anyone’s language that could perfectly describe how truly beautiful you are. You are NOT odd. It is not that illiterate sty’s business to call your brilliance odd; I can guarantee that you are more educated than any teacher at the school. You have no time to fuss with fancy garments as you are busy with things that are meaningful to you, and all they would do anyway is cover you up until you are no longer visible.”

She smiled at that, so Beast kept going, “Your freckles are like constellations, I can see the night sky written upon your cheeks and your eyes are the color of earth; those bring me back home and ground me when I feel like floating away. You are built like a nymph, ready to run and fly away in search of adventure at a moments notice. Your boots are muddy because you take care of chores those stuck up cows in the village are afraid to take on themselves, and your hands,”

Felling bold, The Beast reached for her, looking at her first for permission. Belle nodded, offering her hands to him. He held them carefully, bringing them closer to his face. After a moments scrutinizing, he murmured, “Not a callous in sight. They are soft and fair, like silk.” He ran his thumbs across her palms, taking care to not scratch her, “these are the hands of a brilliant mind, the hands of a scholar, of an inventor, and a beautiful woman. And you’re hair,” he released one of her hands, she letting it fall into her lap as The Beast ran the back of his paw down the side of her face, “it is wild yes, but it very much reminds me of you. Even tied back pieces of it refuse to be tamed. That is one of my favorite things about you. You are a lovely looking woman, Belle. Not just the outside, which, to be quite honest is very striking. But it is what is inside that counts the most. Which is why ‘winged cupid is painted blind.’ I think your name falls flat to be honest. But it shall do until I can think of something worthy enough of you.”

His paw was still against her cheek, now cupping it and her dark eyes were burning into his, “Will you please tell me your name?” Belle asked, voice wavering.

The Beast swallowed, then leaned forward, lips almost touching her ear,

“Adam.” He whispered.

Pulling back, he was surprised to see her still looking at him, expression very warm.

“It suits you,” She smiled, “Adam.”

Oh, merciful heaven.

Belle suddenly looked concerned, “Are you alright? You look like you have been wounded.”

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat, before managing to say, “Yes, yes I just have not heard that name in a very long time.”

“Would you mind very much if I called you that when we are together?”

“I would be honored.” He said seriously, watching with pleasure as the constellations of her cheeks leaned into his palm for the briefest of moments, before pulling away. “Come Adam, will you continue reading to me, or shall I take a turn?”

Unable to speak anymore, He handed the book in his lap into Belle’s waiting hands. She began to read out loud, her voice sounding very much like the music of chimes and Adam daydreamed of stars.


A little different from what I normally write… but I hope you liked it nonetheless ❤️

Things I Actually Wrote in Fanfic Starters
  • "Quit your complainin', bitchsicle."
  • "Yeah, eat that-- OH MY GOD MY BOXERS ARE ON FIRE."
  • "Alright, who just threw the fucking table at my head?"
  • "Dude, that's like the gayest thing you've ever done."
  • "Hah! You're brain's so small even Edward Elric would look tall standing next to it!"
  • "Did you just summon the Fullmetal Alchemist via short joke?"
  • "Oh hey, look. There's a hole in the wall."
  • "I'll tell you something... Sake is the shit."
  • "I could commit homicide with this."
  • "Technically, I'm satan."
  • "No way I died before he did!"
  • "He didn't even listen to Satan."
  • "Boys, boys... Don't get your thongs in a bunch, alright?"
  • "Right, it says here in my script I'm supposed to help you with your female dilemmas."
  • "Quit ogling the youths, you creep."
  • "How drunk is drunk enough?"
  • "The classic tale of beauty, the beast, and all of his piercings."
  • "It's noon, you bastard!"
  • "I swore I saw the wind blow through his hair carrying cherry blossom petals. I swear it."
  • "But that's my over-used, over-exaggerated trope!"
  • "What smells like axe body spray mixed with... Is that cherry blossom?"
Skyrim: A Penny for a Tale

Part 1 | Part 2 

I’m debating if I should put this story on AO3. Whatcha guys think? 

I feel like i havent posted anything in a long time. Sorry for the wait, work is killer on eating my time. Also sorry it’s not exactly what you followed me for but for the few of you that dig this….

Here is another thrilling adventure of @nikanono and my Skyrim characters. 


The Thief froze in place, her coat halfway over her head catching her in an awkward position with her arms stuck within the torso and sleeveless armholes.

“Um….my coat…has…wolf fur….so I just thought…”

Fey snorted,“It’s freezing outside put it back on…” she sighed, shaking her head as she reached out and grabbed the hem of her coat, roughly yanking it back down over her body, her head popping out of the neck hole. She yelped and shook her wild red hair that was frazzled and mussed up in the process.

Vi pouted, playful but she was particularly serious about it this time.

Since the revelation of Fey having beast blood in her veins, Vi couldn’t stop the wolf jokes, in good taste mind you. Distant howling in the woods, Vi quietly commented on her family calling out to her or when they had lost their way she playfully suggested sniffing at the walls and the like. Fey rolled her eyes, but secretly did take a whiff at the air and instantly became aware of their surroundings. But she didn’t need to tell her that.

However upon realizing that her entire coat was lined with dark grey wolf fur, she was suddenly beginning to feel bad.

”…I appreciate the thought but I’m not offended”

Not convinced, her pout deepened into a small glare, reluctantly readjusting herself back into her coat before crossing her arms defiantly.

“Vi really it’s ok” Fey laughed, watching her huff, conceding for now.

“Fine but…I’m going to brood about it anyway” she grumbled, continuing to follow Fey through the wilds.

She laughed and shook her head,“Brooding is my job”

Keep reading

The Ape Woman pt. 1

Relationship: Damian Wayne x Reader

Summary: Kinda like Tarzan, but fem!reader. So…yeah.

Key: Y/N= your name

Part 2 soon

Since before you could remember, you were different. You were different from your mother and your friends, but you tried to never get too bothered. You knew you were loved by your mother, yet your ‘father’ was a very different story. He would never let you forget you were different. You were positive he hated you for it. If you ever did anything wrong, which seemed to be everything, he would remind your mother of your difference.

“Mom, why does he hate me? What did I do?” You hid away in the corner of your nest.

“Oh my dear, he just doesn’t understand you. He doesn’t want to,” you mother took you into a warm hug.

“Why am I so different,” you looked to you mother, “Why do I look so weird?”

“I don’t think you’re weird,” she lifts your head with her knuckles to look at you. “I see two beautiful eyes, two ears, and a nose all just like mine. What do you see?”

“Uhm,” you looked down at your hands and smiled, “Two hands! We both have two hands.” You put your hands up to your mothers and noticed how different they were. You frowned.

Your mother noticed. She collapsed you into her chest. “Listen. Do you hear that?” You nodded against her chest. “A heart like mine.” You looked at the love on her face and were content. You both drifted off into sleep.

Keep reading

Moon River

This is part of my Drabble Game and is written for the wonderful @luckynumber1213

Prompts: “Tell me a secret. Your deepest darkest secret.”


Imagine being a drifter like Nori and befriending him and spending the night in on his secret hideouts in the wild.

You were out of breath. Heaving as you bent over behind a tree. You were more than certain your pursuers had lost you much further back and yet your adrenaline had kept you running. You had never been so close to being caught; truly, you had rarely even been a suspect. Though it was not entirely your fault. Two thieves in one locale made things a bit difficult.

Keep reading

Since Hogwarts

Originally posted by newdscamander

You had gone to The Leaky Cauldron for a quick drink before you would head in to Diagon Alley to get a few things for yourself. You were sitting at the bar and asked for a Firewhiskey, the bartender gave you a smile and handed you the glass. You took a sip as a man sat beside you, you turned to give him a polite smile.

“HI, there.” He said, turning to face you.

“Hello.” You said, giving a small smile. Little did you know, your school crush Newt Scamander had come in the door and was looking at you two with jealousy. He also had a crush on you but he was too shy to say anything. He’d been expelled the previous year and everyone knew all about it, but he didn’t know that you knew it was Leta’s fault. You were sipping your drink as the man was talking.

“I saw a dragon in the wild once, it was a beast of a thing, only just walked away with my life.” He bragged taking a huge gulp of Firewhiskey.

“Oh, I like dragons, I’ve met one too, let me pet it’s scales.” You said, absentmindedly.

“Well, I came face to face with a werewolf. It nearly tore me apart.” He exaggerated.

“One of my friends is a werewolf, lovely girl she is.” You replied, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“I’ve gotten stung by a Billywig, had to go to St Mungo’s.” He said, puffing out his chest.

“My friend has a Billywig.” You replied, rolling your eyes a tad.

“What magical creature have you not seen or know anything about?!” The man said, chuckling.

“Very few.” You replied, smiling.

“Excuse me, excuse me, sorry for interrupting but can I speak to Y/N for one little second, here could I maybe…” Newt Scamander trailed off before smacking his lips against yours, in all honesty it was more of a head butt if you were honest.

“Newt Scamander?” You questioned. He nodded, bowing his head slightly. “How about we try that again, but softer this time, yeah?” You asked laughing softly, you pulled his face closer to yours and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Better.” He mumbled, you nodded and turned the other way as there was a chair on the other side of you, you pointed at it and Newt sat down.

“So what brings you here?” You asked, intrigued.

“I’m staying here actually just for a little bit, I’m heading to Egypt in a few days.” He said.

“Oh wow, look how far you’ve come since Hogwarts!” You said laughing. He turned a deep scarlet.

“T-thank you.” He mumbled, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes.

“Hey, you already kissed me, no need to be embarrassed now, want to come in to Diagon Alley with me?” You asked, grinning. Newt nodded and you walked hand in hand to the wall.

Bad Moon Rising

For Opposite Day (@carryon-countdown​ #3). 

What if Simon was the monster, instead of Baz?


Warning: description of blood

Simon Snow smelled like a cacophony of dangerous things.

When he comes into our dorm at Mummer’s, late at night with leaves caught in his hair, he smells like the Wavering Wood. He reeks of the moss hidden in the darkest parts of forests, of the wind that rushed past your hair when you’re running too fast.

Something in me beats faster when he walks near me and I don’t know if it’s because he’s close enough to touch me of if he’s close enough to touch me.

In our second year, when every boy in Watford started to deal with cracking voices and embarrassing boners, Simon started to move faster and get fiercer. His legs twitched underneath our desks in elocution and he started to sleep more and more, then less and less. He shoved against people and stopped understanding the concept of personal space. His voice got raspy, thick, and I responded to it in a way I wasn’t very comfortable with.

In our third year, I had nightmares of a blonde wolf with eyes like the sky. I’d wake up in a cold sweat, Simon missing from his bed and my fingers still tingling with the memory of soft fur underneath my fingertips.

In our fifth year, my thoughts were haunted by Simon’s feral eyes. The merwolves had always seemed to avoid Simon, gliding around him with downcast eyes. I’d joked that Simon was a mermaid, but, in fifth year, I considered he was the other part.  

Fifth year was the year I looked at Simon and thought MONSTER.

Fifth year was the year I took my father’s silver ring and wore it at all times.

Keep reading

Polar Opposites (1/2)


Words: 4247

Genre: Fluff, Stripper Jimin, Pole Dancing OC

Notes: Inspired by this fic. Can’t get enough of stripper Jimin haha.

“What are you still doing here?” Hoseok appears at the door.

The music still blaring, Jimin stops - turns it down, and grabs his water bottle from the side. He takes twists the cap in one motion and brings it to his lips for a large gulp. He slides down the glass, still trying to catch his breath. “Practicing.” He says nonchalantly.

“On a Friday night?” Hoseok’s eyebrows are raised, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. “Go have some fun! You’re always in the studio practicing. You’re never gonna meet a chick at this rate.”

Sweaty Jimin takes a large breath of air. Hoseok sighs. “C’mon. I’m not letting you practice alone. Let’s go have fun.”

Hoseok reaches out a hand and Jimin grabs it, hoisting himself up. “Fine.” He mumbles and disappears to clean himself up.

Keep reading

I can take care of myself

I can live with being 
the only soul in the herd. 
I can 
I will 
the adversity 
the jungles of mundanity. 
I can 
I will 
suck the poison 
out of my own veins

I can 
roar the foe away 
I will 
dig my claws 
into my own flesh 
pluck out the bullets, the knives, 
the words 
I can, I will
take care of myself

My heart’s no hive, 
no holes, no crowds. 
My heart’s a sleeping feline, 
alert and wild 
My heart’s the beast 
you don’t want to wake up

I will sharpen my nails and fangs
and bite the hand of the attacker
of the neutral, 
the passerby, 
and eventually
the brother

I will rip off the fingers
of every single toucher

Hairs on end,
eyes opened wide
the thought of closeness
makes me terrified.

What do you call
a tiger with no stripes? 
a mane-less lion? 
a haltered jaguar? 
I’m a kitten
behind a beware sign.

I’ll spend my life
curled into a ball
with the heat of no fireplace
nor hands to pet my fur. 
I’ll whine and waste my time
hunting imaginary mice, 
perking my ears and hissing. 
Hostile and menace, 
bloodshot eyes
and jaws like death-traps.

I’ll become a threat. 
That way I’ll scare the enemy
and I’ll scare myself. 

But it’s ok…

After all, 
I can take care of myself

Heyyy, so this is the poem I wrote for my fic One of Those Nights (it’s Otabek who writes it in the story) I wanted to post it somewhere and since I have no requests yet…you are my victims I guess. I hope you like it…poetry is harder in english 😱 I promise to write something Victuuri related next


The Better To See You With - werewolf!jason au

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne
Summary: The wolf comes across a little red riding hood, and Jason realizes that maybe not all was what it seemed with Damian Wayne
A/N: Y’alls prompts were similar, and I was already sort of mapping out how Damian met Jason in his wolf form anyway, so. It was never going to fit into a 3Sentence, so I took a weird melding of your prompts and here you go. Hope that’s okay! The family didn’t exactly do anything (aka I haven’t thought up a real reason) but they didn’t tell him about what happened to Jason, and were barring him from patrol, because Jason was out and in his wolf form. Damian believes it’s due to some sort of mistrust against him, though, so chose to pick up and leave, and start over somewhere else. As Damian tends to like to do. This is after everyone’s death and resurrection, etc etc. It probably kind of sucks a little bit, I dunno.


Keep reading

missmallory  asked:

Hello! I was wondering if You could do one of those headcanons... My name is Mallory. I'm a ravenclaw and I love painting and writing. I'm extremely creative and I have a wild imagination. I'm bisexual and I'm a huge feminist. I have straight, long, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I love animals and I love being outside! I love researching and studying zodiac signs (I'm a Virgo) Thanks :)

Hi @missmallory

I Ship you with….Tonks!

Originally posted by just-purely-insane


Tonks helping you research the things you love

Spending time with Hagrid to meet new creatures

Loving the Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them books

Sitting by the Whomping Willow with Tonks

Telling her crazy stories including magical creatures and beings

Spending a lot of time in the Owlery

Having a pet owl/Cat to enjoy


Sibling Mystery - Leon x Kamui

Oooookay Kathie here with my first one-shot thing here on tumblr. I actually wrote this a while ago (when I first fell for this magical dork) so I edited it a bit and here we are now. I really hope you like it! (Warning: There’s some parts that can get out of hand but they’re not obscenely NSFW. But knowing you guys it’s not much haha. Also sorry for weird formatting and such.)

Keep reading

Crave You

The darling adorkabletiff91 requested some Dean x reader smut to the song Crave You by Kayleigh Rose. If you haven’t heard it, you should definitely listen to it while you read. It’s an incredible song, and you can listen to it here.

Warning: Smut, angst

Word Count: 1287

A/N: This ended up being Dean’s perspective, and it turned out to be a lot more emotional than I intended. I really hope you like it, love! XOXO

Keep reading

                                 S’enka- Thief- Khajiit

Dar’akas’ little sister. One of my first Beast race Skyrim oc from back in 2011. Not exactly how she looks in game XD but I always imagined her with that wild gypsy like hair. She’s a thief but was never really good at it XD. 

(‘Show me the beast!’)
the face in the mirror has waves of thick hair and a smile tinged with lightning. i expected fur and fangs and fury, not crinkles at the corners of his eyes and straight white teeth. the mirror must be broken. monsters have large paws and devil’s horns, not a mouth that says 'i love you’ and a laugh like sunshine.

('If I didn’t know better I’d say you had feelings for this monster.’)
monster? i see no monster here. only a boy with the timebomb in his head running down.

(I’ve hunted wild beasts and I’ve seen what they can do!’)
what? rip the heart from my chest? smile like a snarl and carve the skin from my throat? i am not a damsel in distress. i am aware of what awaits me.

('Remember, the beast is mine!’)
no; no. he is mine to consider, mine to explore, mine to love, mine to leave. mine to kill, if necessary. this does not concern you.

('Kill the beast!’)


—  the beauty in the beast // abby, day 151