#and then when she tries to fall back on her old tactics to weasel her way back into their trust and it doesnt work

[punkcherries]

What if Simon tries to get rid of Ryan since he knows Ryan doesn't like him, idk if it would be when he killed tuba and it's a "you wanna be next" situation or he tries to separate them after the fact (like trap him somewhere) and manipulate min into thinking Ryan left, but bc min doesn't 100% trust either of them he and kez stage something where she "leaves" to go actually find ryan

oh simon DEFINITELY tries to put a wedge between ryan and the rest of the group, but leaving him trapped in a car somewhere is both devious and could be an interesting parallel w/ when samantha left simon when he was a kid,,,, i feel like for the sake of a Neat Overarching Plot™ or w/e as things would go assuming things follow the arc of book 3 itd be a bit too much a bit too soon since itd probably happen before simon axes tuba but its still a VERY interesting thing to think abt 👀

[maythefandomsbwithu]

Tattoo artist/ florist au part (1) 2

Sumarry: As it turns out, both Jaskier and Geralt have some very perceptive women in their lives. Jaskier vents about his crush to Ciri while Yennefer tries to pry something out of Geralt about his.

As it turns out Ciri was extremely perceptive and knew something was up the minute she walked back into the shop. Jaskier was standing in the middle of the floor leaning on his brush with that lovestruck look on his face that she’d seen a million times before.

“Who do you have a crush on now?” She demanded, rolling her eyes as the brush slipped from its position and he almost fell.

“What? Me? A crush? Pffft, don’t be ridiculous Ciri, I’m too old for crushes.” He babbled in his defence. Damn her, smart little shit. He needed to get off this topic before she could weasel the truth out of him. She had a knack for reading him like a book, just like her mother. “Anyway, where’s my coffee, I’m thirsty.”

“Yeah you are thirsty.” Ciri snorted at the affronted sound her uncle made as he snatched the iced coffee form her and took a gulp. “It’s the hot tattoo guy from next door, isn’t it?” She asked, innocently sipping on her frappuccino.

Jaskier promptly spat his coffee all over himself, all over the floor, and almost all over Ciri, if she hadn’t tactically stepped back before she said anything. “What? Hot...Tattoo…Don’t be…CIRILLA CINTRA!” He spluttered. He knew by the smirk on her face that he wasn’t fooling her for a second. “How do you even know about him? I only just met him! And what do you mean hot? He’s waaaay too old for you!” He fussed about trying to find something to clean himself with as Ciri just laughed at him. Little brat.

Ciri was in stitches. Jaskier was so easy to wind up. “I saw him walk out of the shop, like, two seconds ago, genius. And I’ve seen him around, he does work next door you know.” She sassed him. Of course she’d seen him, the guy wasn’t exactly hard to miss. “And as for him being hot, I’m seventeen not fucking blind. And I meant that you thought he was hot, judging by that dumb, lovestruck look on your face.”

“I did not have a dumb, lovestruck look on my face.” Jaskier huffed, crossing his arms like a child. He almost felt betrayed that Ciri hadn’t told him about the new neighbours if she supposedly knew so much about them. Especially when their new neighbour was so hot… Fuck! He could see Ciri giving him a sceptical look. He stuck his tongue out at her. “I didn’t. I was just… thinking.”

Ciri snorted, “Yeah, thinking about how hot he is. You’re not fooling anyone, uncle Jaskier, least of all me.” She rolled her eyes once more for good measure and went to find a mop to clean up the spilled coffee. When she came back Jaskier was dabbing at himself with a tissue absently, with that dreamy look in his eye again. She gave an extremely put-on long-suffering sigh. “Okay, tell me about him.” She demanded.

His eyes snapped up in surprise. “What?” he squawked. “What do you mean tell you about him?”

If Ciri rolled her eyes any harder she’d flip the world upside down. “I mean you need to vent and I’m volunteering to listen to your lovesick ramblings.” She finished cleaning up the coffee and hopped up on the counter. She shuffled to get comfy. “Okay, now go.”

His mouth flapped open and closed like a fish before he gave in. This is what they did. If either of them found a new interest or had a bad day or, in this case, had a crush, one would listen while the other vented. He trusted that although she may ridicule him, she would take his secrets to the grave. And he hers. His thoughts drifted back to Geralt. He hardly knew the man but he was intrigued. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know the person behind the frankly gorgeous exterior. “Where to begin?” He sighed.

“Maybe with his name?” Ciri suggested cheekily, earning a pointed look form her uncle which she returned with a more mocking air to it.

“Geralt Rivia.” The first time the name passed his lips it was like opening the flood gates for a multitude of romantic fantasies. It was like he was an enamoured tween, scribbling Geralt’s name with his in a secret note book over and over with pink sparkly gel pen that smelled like strawberries surrounding it with love hearts and flowers. He didn’t even realise how caught up in his thoughts he’d become until Ciri cleared her throat.

Oh gods, her uncle had it bad. He’d only met the guy once but he couldn’t even say his name without drifting off to Lalaland. She tried hard not to scoff at him, she was the one who you would expect to sigh dreamily over boys, not him. “So, he has a name. Cool. And?” She made a sort of ‘get on with it’ type gesture.

Jaskier made an affronted noise. “And? And! Have you seen him Ciri? He’s magnificent. He looks like some kind of lesser known deity, and I would happily bow down and worship him.” Now he was getting started, he couldn’t stop the stream of Geralt’s praise that flowed form his lips. “Don’t get me started about his hair! I bet when its down its soft and flowy and frames his face perfectly. I could sit and play with it for hours. I know he’s not my usual type but come on! He’s got a kind of rugged charm about him, with his tattoos and his muscles and his jawline, ugh I could cut myself just looking at that jawline. And he’s, how the kids say, thicc.”

“Uncle Jaskier!” Ciri exclaimed through her giggles. Old people trying to be cool were hilarious. “I knew I’d regret teaching you modern slang.”

“Hey, I’m cool! I can be down with the kids.” Jaskier grinned at her. “With your meemees and your snappy chats.”

“They’re called memes Jaskier! And you know that!” Ciri countered, still laughing. After they’d both recomposed themselves after their fit of giggles Ciri leaned back on her hands and grinned at her uncle. “Are you done with your ode to Geralt yet or do you have more to add?”

“I’m sure there’s more I can say. Where was I? Ah, him being thicc.” This caused another round of giggles between them. “Seriously though Ciri, he has no business being that handsome.”

Ciri rolled her eyes again, seriously that girl is going to get eye strain, like damn! “Okay, he’s handsome, I get it.” There was only so much she could listen to. “So why was he even here?”

“Alas my knight in ripped jeans didn’t come to sweep me off my feet, if that’s what you mean. He came for inspiration for a tattoo.” Jaskier sighed, wishing he had been the reason for Geralt’s visit. However, this made him remember something that gave him back some of his enthusiasm. “But he’s coming back my dear Ciri! Perhaps it was fate that we had no sunflowers left because he’s coming back on Monday when we restock!”

“Oh joy!” Ciri imitated sarcastically, over-exaggerating the way she bounced in excitement as he had. “Maybe this time you can profess your undying love and ride off into the sunset.” She teased.

Jaskier pouted dramatically and crossed his arms. “Ha-ha Ciri, you’re so funny. I’ll have you know I already have a plan.”

“Really, let me guess.” she scoffed, “You’re going to take him on a moon-lit picnic and braid flowers into his hair. You’ll serenade him as you walk down the beach before dropping to one knee and professing your undying love for him and begging him to elope with you. You’ll be happy in a hidden cottage in the woods while you grow your own vegetables and talk to the forest animals. And even though its hard work and the nights are cold, you won’t care because you’ll have him to keep you safe and warm.” She paused her mocking rant to glance at Jaskier’s reaction. He had his hands on his hips and a was gaping at her. She laughed. “Too much?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, those were all lovely ideas for me to file away for later.” He snarked back at her. “My plan is to be myself and get to know him.”

Ciri’s gaze softened. “Okay, that sounds like a good start.” She smiled. “Just…if find that you really like him… don’t let your pining get out of hand, okay?”

Jaskier’s heart clenched. “Okay. No being a pining mess this time.” He was glad she was trying to look after him. He had been reckless with his heart in the past, too fast to fall in love and too fast to have his love thrown back in his face.

“Sooo...” Ciri broke the moment of silence between them. “Shall we close the shop and get home for Saturday night movie night?”

~~~

Geralt couldn’t help it as the corners of his mouth twitched upward as he left the flower shop at the thought of the chipper man he left behind. He took a short stroll around the block, familiarising himself with his surroundings. Although, throughout his walk his mind kept wandering to Jaskier. It was strange. Geralt was a large man, tall and muscular, covered in tattoos and piercings, wrapped in black leather. Now that was enough for some people to stay well clear of him, those with more… conservative, values. And with a glare that could kill at close range and a general ‘don’t fuck with me’ aura Geralt found he intimidated most people he met. But...this adorable man had grinned and joked like he hadn’t been the slightest bit fazed by any of it. He found it baffling, and a little attractive to be honest.

Before long he ended up back at his shop to find Yennefer waiting for him. She was perched on one of the sofas in the waiting area, flicking through her phone, probably updating the shop’s Instagram with new photos of his work. She barely more than looked up at him.

“Enjoy your little walk dear?” she asked nonchalantly, still scrolling through her phone. She only received a grunt in response but Yennefer had known Geralt long enough to understand his language of grunts and hmm’s. She lowered her phone as he sat down beside him. “Did you find any pretty flowers?” she said knowingly.

Geralt’s eyes snapped to meet hers as he schooled his face to appear unconcerned. How did she know? Could she really read him that well? “I don’t know what you mean Yen.” He stated gruffly, pulling his phone out of his pocket so the look in his eyes didn’t give him away even further.

Yennefer huffed out a laugh. “Don’t play dumb with me Geralt. I wondered how long it would take you to notice the boy next door.” She was met with only the sound of Geralt’s fingers tapping at his phone. “He’s cute, I suppose. In a delicate, flower-y kind of way.” She continued, “Not your usual type though.”

Geralt realised then he wasn’t going to escape this conversation. Yen could be annoyingly persistent and it was easier to give in now than waste energy trying to avoid the inevitable. “What would you know about my taste in men Yen? I haven’t had a boyfriend since …before us.” The truth was Jaskier was exactly his type; lithe body and a pretty face, with a charming grin and soft eyes that held just a glint of mischief.

“That’s an exaggeration and you know it, what about… you know… what’s his name? In the band?” Yennefer offered. She knew he was right… in a way. While Yennefer knew his taste in women very well, herself having been one of the women who he’d been drawn to once upon a time however, in the time she’d know him, he had had much more luck with women than men. But that wasn’t to say there’d been no men in his life.

“Doesn’t count. Sleeping with him hardly makes him my boyfriend. He was a narcissistic prick anyway.” Geralt grumbled. That man was definitely not his type, he couldn’t even remember his name, nor did he care to.

“Oh, so now you’re a romantic?” She scoffed. “But you must have found him at least somewhat attractive to sleep with him, right?” She raised an eyebrow. She knew Geralt. He didn’t go around sleeping with people for the sake of it.

“Objectively.” He grunted in response, folding his arms across his chest.

“Objectively, of course.” She parroted back at him. “So, do you find Julian attractive, more than just objectively?” She wore at cat-like grin as she watched Geralt’s reaction intently.

“Have you been stalking me?” he asked suspiciously. His eyes widened. “Have you been stalking him? Yen you can’t just do that, that’s really creepy.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “I haven’t been stalking either of you, you dolt!” she smacked him upside the head. “I found his name on the website for the flower shop, which I glanced at out of curiosity. And I knew you’d like him the minute I saw him but I didn’t say anything because if you thought I was trying to set you up you’d decide what he was like in your head before you met him.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a look that dared him to deny it.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Damn her for being right. “Whatever.” He grunted, not meeting her gaze. He knew she would only encourage him to pursue this. He wanted to, but he was afraid. Afraid of having his heart broken again. Of Jaskier becoming just another her. It would be better to nip this in the bud.

“That’s not an answer Geralt.” She pressed, her stare never wavering.

“Ugh!” He groaned, pulling his hair down from its bun so he could rake his hands through it. “Fine. He’s …alright, I guess. Whatever.” He told himself he was only saying it to satisfy her, to get her to drop it. He was lying to himself. Jaskier was gorgeous, but Yen didn’t need to know that or she’d never let him let it go like he should.

Yennefer grinned triumphantly. She knew Geralt better than anyone, he was smitten, she could tell. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” She teased. “Now you’ve actually admitted it, why don’t you do something about it?”

“Yennefer.” He growled in warning. “You know why.” She of all people should know exactly why he was guarding his heart so fiercely. She had been there as he tried to gather up the shattered pieces of his heart and stick them back together. But after something breaks once, it will never be as strong again. There will always be a weak spot, somewhere, no matter how small or hidden it is. Geralt’s heart was no exception. She had been his everything, once. He’d given her everything he had to give but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. He’d given her his heart and she’d chewed it up and spat it back out at his feet. After months of wallowing in self-pity, he’d finally managed to heal some. Geralt was terrified that he’d have to start the process all over again.

Yennefer’s expression softened as she stepped forward to rest hand on his shoulder. “Geralt. Look at me.” She coaxed his chin up to look him in the eye. “She is gone. That toxic bitch is not in your life anymore. But if you let what she did define who you are now, if you let her stop you living your own life, then you’ll never truly be free from her. And she wins. You need to forget her. I know you’ve been trying; I know it’s hard and you’re not the best at emotions. But if you like him, don’t let anyone hold you back, especially not her.” She felt him tug her into his arms and she went willingly, stroking his hair as he embraced her.

“I’m meeting him again on Monday.” He murmured into her hair. He let out one last deep sigh before releasing her and stepping back. “They’re getting more sunflowers in; they were sold out today. For that floral piece I’m designing.” He was still trying to convince himself that was the only reason.

Yennefer smiled. “Whatever excuse you have to tell yourself dear.” She teased, moving to grab her stuff.

“It’s the truth Yen. Jaskier suggested it not me.” Damn her for being able to see through his bullshit.

Her grin widened. “Jaskier? My, my Geralt, how forward, nicknames and a pre-work rendezvous, I expect you’ll be late on Monday then?” She cackled when he threw a magazine at her off the table. “You can tell me all about it after. See you Monday.” She called, walking out the door before he could protest.

Geralt stood a moment longer before locking the door behind her. He put the shutter down and headed upstairs to his apartment to be alone with his thoughts, which kept returning to an image of sparkling blue eyes and a charming smile. Fuck.

Taglist: @andyet-here-we-are @dandelionslute

@welcometothecolemine @wildlyannoyingdoofus

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

Pairing: Wolffe x Danica Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: Mentions of hunting, but that aside, it’s pure fluff and humor Inspired partly by the magical David Bowie and Labyrinth with this lovely song Dani’s outfit and mask, Wolffe’s outfit (which is an amalgamation of two different suits; the vest from the first one, and the rest of it from the second) and his mask Tagging: @roseofalderaan​, @catsnkooks​, @clonewarslover55​, @captainrexstan​, @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​, @miss-spixx​ and @colorfulloverbatturkey​

Winter had hit hard this year, frost coating the beautifully detailed windows of the palace in patterns of various flowers and swirls that had been etched into the glass. I was glad to be home for Yule, though, and wouldn’t trade this for the world.

“Here you go my love, some hot chocolate.” I smiled softly as I moved away from the window in the kitchen, a large mug in hand as I passed it over to Wolffe along with a freshly made croissant, the flaky crust sticking to my fingers as I let go of it.

“Thank you, cyare. Smells delicious.” He wore a gentle smile as I picked up my mug and we walked out into the grand hallway to make our way back to our room. Freyja and Tyr, our hunting hounds, were waiting patiently for us at the bottom of the stairs, their gems gleaming in the low lighting in the open foyer as they got to their feet and padded quietly up ahead of us.

“We need to take them out tomorrow for a run. I think they’ve been getting antsy thanks to us not going out much due to the snow.” I chuckled, taking a sip of hot chocolate and smiling into my mug when Tyr gave one sharp bark at Wolffe, wagging his tail excitedly.

“I’ll take them both with me when I go hunting with your father.” Wolffe replied and I choked on my drink, coughing hard while pounding my fist against my chest.

“You’re going hunting with my father tomorrow? Oh dear gods, did he rope you into hunting for the white stag?” I spluttered, rolling my eyes upon realizing what the hunt was for.

“Yes…?” Wolffe ventured after a moment of staring at me like I’d grown a second head. “Should I not go?” The confusion quickly became concern as I burst out laughing while pushing our door open.

“No, no, you should go, it would be an insult not to. I’m just disappointed that I’m going to miss this.” I set my things down on the desk and wrapped my arms around his waist, grinning up at the handsome man I’d fallen so in love with. “He’s been trying to catch that stag for years now and it always outsmarts him. Hope you’re a good shot with a bow darling, no blasters are allowed on the hunt.”

“A what?” Wolffe’s brow was furrowed and I burst out laughing all over again, having a hard time containing myself. Oh tomorrow was certainly going to be interesting. I would have to find a way to weasel out of helping decorate the ballroom for the masquerade so I could see this in all go down in person.

“Oh my love, you are certainly in for it tomorrow. Come on, we’re going to get you acquainted with my personal favorite weapon. Get dressed in something warm, darling heart.” I slipped away from his warmth, delving into the oversized walk in closet to put on a thick pair of pants and other winter clothes that would be suitable for the frozen world that waited for us just outside.

“Seems kind of archaic to use something like this to hunt with.” Wolffe muttered as I handed him a bow, studying the beautifully crafted weapon closely with a scowl on his face.

“Get used to it love, you’ll be becoming well acquainted with it by the end of tomorrow’s hunt.” I chuckled, grabbing my bow and two quivers of arrows before whistling for our hounds to come with us out to the archery range. “We choose to go old school with our weapons during this time. It’s our way of honoring our ancestors and the gods. You’re a quick study, I’m sure you’ll pick up on it faster than you think.”

~*~*~

I watched in shock and awe as father, Wolffe, and some of the other men came riding up to the palace from the woods, the white stag apprehended along with a few giant boars that were trussed and laid across the back of a couple of the ronki. Wolffe was holding onto the stag’s halter, smirking just slightly when he caught sight of me staring at him from the ballroom window.

“I’ll be damned, he actually caught the fucking thing.” I whispered while my mother came up to see what was going on.

“Is that…? No! They actually got it?” Mother gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I told you Wolffe was something special. I believe you owe me fifty gold.” I grinned and dropped my decorations before gathering my skirts and hurrying out to meet up with the others, stopping just shy of the stag. Up close he was magnificent to behold, his white fur gleaming with flecks of gold in the slowly setting sun, honeyed eyes blinking calmly as I slowly reached up to stroke his face softly, grinning like a fool the entire time.

“I never thought I’d see this happen. You finally caught him.” Mother had come out as well, laughing as she went to my father’s side, embracing him tightly.

“Not me, mirr qiaal, but Commander Wolffe. He’s the mind behind the trap that caught the beast. He’s also the reason we’ve got three giant boar for tonight’s feast.” Father was practically beaming as he bragged about Wolffe’s hunting prowess, making the soldier clear his throat and rub the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Come on, let’s get our new friend here to the stable for some food and rest before we release him back into the woods later,” I took the lead from Wolffe, clicking my tongue to get the stag to follow after me. “So how was it? Father didn’t bore you too badly, did he?” I glanced over towards Wolffe, eyebrows raised slightly when he shook his head.

“Not at all, cyar’ika. It was an interesting experience, not to mention it’s given me some ideas on training the rest of the pack in some different tactics in fighting the tin cans. Tyr here was quite the helper, weren’t you?” Wolffe smiled down at the Fae hunting hound who chuffed at him, pleased to get praised for doing a good job. “Freyja too, of course.” He added in when my hound yapped at him.

“Of course she did. My baby is a good hunter, aren’t you?” I cooed, kneeling down to scratch the white and purple hound behind her floppy ears, grinning when she leaned into me. “We need to go get ready for the masquerade. Father did give you a heads up that he and mother plan on announcing our engagement tonight, right?” I bit my lip anxiously as I got to my feet, Wolffe immediately wrapping his arms around me in a warm hug that had me feeling far more relaxed than I’d felt all day.

“Yeah, we discussed it. The pack and General Koon are coming in for the party, too. So be prepared for things to get loud.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I’m looking forward to it though, you know that I love them as much as I love you.” I leaned into him, arm wrapped around his waist tightly. It was true too; I’d quickly formed a tight bond with his brothers. Shedding blood with them, protecting them, going to bat for them when the time called for it really did strengthen the bond I had formed with them. It brought us together, made us like a tight knit family unit that I was honored to be part of. “Alright my love, I’ll see you at the masquerade. I’m off to go get ready.” I stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before bounding off, Freyja hot on my heels as we headed up to meet with my attendants and mother to get ready

~*~*~

I held tight to the railing of the crystalline staircase, my beautiful mask slightly obscuring my line of sight. I had decided on a beautiful white deer mask, with delicate silver patterns emblazoned into the white leather, though I was beginning to wonder if this was the right choice considering I either had to look down to walk or just hope for the best that I wouldn’t slip in my heels and fall on my ass. It was a beautiful mask though and it went nicely with Wolffe’s choice in mask, so I figured I could suck it up just for tonight and pretend that I was actually graceful and not an absolute walking disaster that tripped over air.

Wolffe was waiting at the foot of the stairs with my father, his eyes going wide behind his intricately carved wolf mask as I carefully made my way towards him, my grin hidden behind my mask at his reaction.

“You look beautiful, cyar’ika.” He murmured while reaching for my hand, lifting it to his lips to press a gentle kiss on my knuckles.

“Thank you, mirr haesd. You look rather dashing yourself. We should put you in a suit more often.” I teased him while looking him over. He really did look so good in the suit one of the advisors picked out for him. It was a simple white shirt with a nice, navy blue color with this gold filigree pattern that really brought out the golden undertones in those beautiful honey brown eyes of his. The black pants were tight, but not restrictive and made his ass look damn good, though I wasn’t going to point that out right here in front of my parents.

“You two look lovely together. Now remember, upon announcing your engagement, you two will be leading the first dance. Are you both ready for that? You have your song chosen, yes?” Mother was already back into proper Queen mode, her voice brisk and firm as she glanced our way.

“Yes mother, we’re prepared. It’s not as if we’ve spent the whole week preparing or anything.” I tried not to roll my eyes, but it was a challenge really. We’d spent all week rehearsing our entrance as well as the waltz we’d chosen to go with our song, it wasn’t like we’d slacked off or anything, though I understood why she was concerned. The other Courts would be here as well for the announcement and it was a big deal since Wolffe and I would eventually take our place as future King and Queen when she and father passed on into ususri'as lriiv at some point.

“Mmm good luck with this one, Wolffe.” Mother sighed dramatically, a playful smile on her face despite her words.

“Are you ready? We’re going to be flooded with congratulations all evening and it can be a little overwhelming. If you need to step away for a few to try and catch your breath, let me know, okay daesard ula?” I murmured softly, squeezing his hand gently in mine. He nodded in response, taking my arm in his, mirroring the way my parents were positioned as the doors opened and took the lead in walking us into the ballroom where a much larger crowd than I’d originally planned on greeted us with cheers and smiles.

“Presenting: King Hakon and Queen Anja, the royal majesties of the Court of Stars,” One of the attendings called as mother and father stepped out ahead of us, waving to the people and stepping aside for Wolffe and I. “And with them are the crown princess and commander of the Court of Stars army, Princess Danica and her fiancé, the esteemed Commander Wolffe of the Grand Army of the Republic, leader of the famed Wolfpack, honorary knight of the Court of Stars for his bravery at the battle of Elvegarden.”

Wolffe and I smiled, lifting our free hands in greeting, and I had to bite back a laugh as the Wolfpack howled and cheered the loudest of everyone attending, much to the chagrin of my parents who glanced our way with raised brows. We could only shrug in response, unsure of what exactly they wanted us to say other than his brothers were clearly very supportive of us.

“Queen Anja and I are pleased to present the future of our Court to you! Wolffe and Danica will make a fine King and Queen, ruling with fairness and wiseness that will serve them well in the years to come. Tonight we not only celebrate the gods, we celebrate the love of these two souls bonded together! Skal!” Father had taken up a drinking horn that one of the many servants were passing around, raising it in a toast in our honor. My cheeks were beginning to ache from the smile that lit my face up and I raised the mask up enough to take a drink from the drinking horn I’d been presented, handing it off upon finishing the bubbly champagne that left my head swimming with just how strong it was. I held onto Wolffe tightly as we descended the elaborate crystalline staircase to the ballroom floor, leaning into him as we began the first dance of the evening together.

“Well, how does it feel knowing you’re going to be a future King?” I laughed softly as we went through the motions of the waltz we’d chosen. A rotary waltz was simple yet elegant to watch and it worked beautifully with our chosen song, plus it was quick to learn considering we’d only had the week. Everything seemed to fade into the background as we danced, Wolffe’s hands warm against my skin, a soft smile that was reserved for moments like this lighting his face up with a gentleness that sent my heart into a flutter of quickened beats that matched to the tempo of the music. Other couples whirled around us, but my eyes were only gazing up at the one person who mattered more to me than anyone, a lovesickness striking me in my weakest spot.

“It’s strange, but with you by my side, I know we can handle it. We make quite the team.” He murmured, his hand squeezing my waist gently as he turned us about.

“I'll leave my love between the stars. As the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you. Every thrill is gone. Wasn't too much fun at all, but I'll be there for you-ou-ou as the world falls down. As the world falls down.” A Fae singer croons away into a microphone as we dance across a floor of starlight, lost in each other’s eyes, ignoring everyone around us. Right now, it was only us as far as I was concerned.

“No matter what happens, I will always be here by your side, mirr ruya. Ir en irruisr eln irrui esa naila.” It was a vow that I planned on never breaking. The song came to an end and Wolffe swept me up into his arms, lifting the masks away from our faces, and kissed me hard, his hands pressing flat against the bare skin on my back. Whistles and cheers echoed around us as I wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss that left me feeling lighter than air. *** cyare: beloved cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart mirr qiaal: My queen mirr haesd: my heart daesard ula: dearest one mirr ruya: my love Ir en irruisr eln irrui esa naila:  I am yours and you are mine

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach Chapter 39

We managed to all get ready for the meeting that all of us, including Trey who was having too much fun with Mama and Dada to be bothered, no doubt wished was cancelled. I dressed after brushing every tiny last missed knot and tangle from my hair and then braiding it over my shoulder, just like it had been the first time Coach took me on his desk. Negan had taken Trey to our room, dressing him like he’d been doing forever, then dressing himself just as quickly. They were playing by the time I came out to dress myself in the outfit he’d picked out for me.

This time it was the outfit he’d chosen when we packed up my bedroom at my parents house, and I watched him from the corner of my eye as he had his back turned and smirked. “Soon” he’d promised me, but I was wondering if I could make “soon” happen sooner than he planned? I hid the panties that he’d chosen under our blanket, and had my skirt on before he turned back to see how far dressed I was, then smiled as he watched me pull on my bra and the graphic tank that he’d been so sure I would wear the fitted leather jacket with during one of our family dinners with my parents.

I did wear it this time. I wanted no distractions for his people, in and out, that’s how I wanted this meeting to go. For them, I mean. For Negan and I? Well, I was hoping for a reminder of how we first came together. The conference room table wasn’t the desk from his office in my old high school, but I thought it would be a suitable replacement.

“Ready?” He’d snuck up on me as I was plotting, his arms winding around me, his lips touching the back of my neck. “Kind of want to give you another mark, just to be sure-” I smacked his hand, and felt the lips I loved curl into a smile on my skin. “Violence? Oh, princess, watch it, or daddy might have to-”

I felt that clench in my stomach even before he got to the word that I could feel in my toes. “Punish me?” I breathed, and felt a tiny nip on the side of my neck, not enough to leave proof, but enough to make my breath catch. A tiny flare of triumph at the way he gave a low, quiet growl made my eyes close. Shit.

I felt empty when he pulled away, but I knew, with what I had planned for the little meeting we were heading toward, that it would be short lived. Because now I knew for a fact that MY Negan was raring to come out, and that gave me a hell of a lot more swing in my hips as we walked together down to the room where his Saviors waited. Where I planned on reminding him just who we really were.

 There were only a few waiting when the three of us arrived. A man with a mustache that looked like a throwback to the 70s, a man who bore a striking resemblance to a weasel, and a woman who sized me up as I walked in beside Negan holding Trey. Mr. Mustache was the Simon that Laura had mentioned, the Weasel was Gavin, and the woman Regina. Negan pulled out a chair for me, sitting it beside his at the head of the table and holding it as I sat with our little boy. He took the seat with his usual swagger, resting Lucille on the battered surface of the table. His eyes met mine, even as Simon tried to get his attention with ideas on retaliation tactics for my former community.

Negan barely glances up at him, but I can see that this only makes Simon persist. “Are you fucking blind?” Negan says, loud enough for the other man to hear, but not loud enough to startle Trey. “I’m making time with my family, asshole, so until the others arrive, put a fucking pin in it.” Simon’s glaring at the back of his head, but Negan’s hand is clucking Trey under the chin and could clearly give a rat’s ass how Simon feels about the slight.

Eventually the others do come into the room, and once everyone is seated, Laura close by and Arat no doubt outside the door waiting, Negan begins by telling them about the plans that Steven is working on. Of course there is dissent, after all, Steven is a former Alexandrian, so his loyalty is suspect, but Negan shuts down the fucking muttering by announcing that Steven AND his husband Eric are family, and if anyone has anything more to say about it, please fucking open their mouths one more fucking time. Silence falls.

“Better.” He nods, looking around the table. “Now, the other reason you’re all here, is to meet Amara and Trey.” I can actually feel all eyes on me, including his. “Sweetheart?” I look up at him and smile. “Amara Kendall was going to be my wife before this shit started, and by the fucking grace of the universe she’s back.” I could feel the curiosity rising, about the former concubines no doubt, and Trey’s parentage definitely. “Our son,” his smile softened as his eyes fell to our quiet little guy who was staring up at his Dada with wide eyes, “Trey is a blessing I didn’t expect.” I bit my lip around my smile. “My FAMILY no matter where the fuck they found safety to survive, do you understand me?”

I could see understanding dawning on faces, even if a few, Simon among them, looked like they’d rather swallow acid to agree to it. But they did, and then before the meeting could go on, Laura came over and held out her hands to Trey. He giggled and opened his arms to her. “Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll keep him occupied while you finish up down here,” was I imagining the knowing look in her eyes? Kissing Trey, which Negan also did in full view of the room, he waved bye to us as Laura took him out and Arat replaced her in the room.

“Now, start talking about whatever bullshit you think I should know.” He gave the floor over to the group around the table and to no one’s surprise Simon took the lead.

Once Simon hit his stride, I leaned closer to Negan as though I was asking him for clarification, but instead whispered, “I’m not wearing any panties, Coach.” I saw his fist clench on the top of the table and grinned. Point to me. I bit my lip and sat back to “listen” to the conversation/debate going on in front of us. When he’d held my chair, he’d also pushed me in far enough so my legs were under the table and out of view. As I took in Simon’s rant or plan, watching the Weasel/Gavin offer up his own take, I noticed Negan’s hand closest to me leave the top of the table. Point two, I thought, a smirk forming. His fingers on my bare knee scored me another point, and now the game was getting far more interesting. I considered a name for the game as his fingers began their slow climb up my thigh. Maybe ‘How Long Until Negan Kicks Everyone Out and Fucks Me Senseless’, I thought, as his fingertip tickled my upper thigh, daring me to uncross my legs and let him take a stroll.

It took longer than I’d given him credit, I have to admit, even when I did uncross my legs. Even after his fingers slid down and between the newly created V. He held strong when he found proof that I hadn’t been teasing about my lack of panties. But I knew I had him when he slipped lower and felt just how fucking ready I was for him.

“That’s great,” Negan cut off whoever had taken up the sharing stick. “Let’s delve into that more soon.” He looked around the table and I felt his finger slide further into my dampness. “Right now,” he bit his lip as he felt me clench around his probing digit. “I have other shit to take care of.” Shit? Oh, I think you can think of a better- and then he curled his finger and I lost track of what he was saying, missing the looks that he got as he basically threw them all out of the conference room because he managed to hit that fucking spot with ONE finger and I’d gone completely deaf from need. Arat followed them out, locking the door behind her with a smirk of her own. “Princess?” I arched up into his hand and he smiled. “Should I punish you or-”

I turned and yanked his face to mine shutting him up with my lips and tongue. Not fucking NOW, I thought. “Negan?” I pulled back, and my voice was husky and low. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Demanding aren’t you?” But he bit back into my mouth, and his finger left me and then I was on top of the table in front of him. “Fuck you?” I nodded as he flipped up my skirt and bared me to his eyes. “Scoot back.” I did, feeling the rough gouges in the table scrape against my skin. “That’s far enough,” I was completely on top of it now, and I grinned as he flicked open his belt and undid his jeans. “Let’s see how fucking sturdy this table is, Amara.” And then he was on top of it with me, hovering over me as I arched up to find his bare skin. “Feeling kind of needy aren’t you?” I decided to test the table myself, hooking me leg around him and rolling so he was on the bottom. Thank God we were both thin enough to not fall off the width with that maneuver, I thought as I slid myself onto his hardness. “I think we’ve been here before, princess.” I remembered the first and one of the ONLY times I tried to be on top, but he was in for a surprise. Rolling my hips, I still made that same noise, but I wanted it. All of it, the feel of him at this angle, the control. “Shit,” I smiled as his eyes rolled back. “Do that again.” And I did, and this time his hands were on my hips and he let me have full reign.

From the rolling to an absolute ride, we made the most of the sturdier than it looked table. Eventually he rolled me back over, Negan was nothing if not a control freak, but I didn’t fucking care, because this WAS us. The wildness. The recklessness that showed that WE were what mattered, not what happened outside the door. That even with a little person to take care of we still had US. He did mark me. My hips were bruised from his fingers and hands, my neck wore another very deep bite, and I was so fucking happy to have US back that I could fucking care less.

We laid on the table afterward, never having gotten completely naked (again) and he had me draped over his body. I felt his chuckle vibrate through me and the scarred wood we were lying on. “You could have just fucking told me you were bored, Amara.” I raised my head and propped my chin on his chest so I could see his face. “Was it with the meeting, princess, or-”

I bit my lip to hold back my own laugh. “It’s been growing, Negan.” His thumb traced my lips and I kissed the pad. “THIS is us.” His smile made mine grow. “We’re not the ‘let’s try to have quiet sex while the baby sleeps’ people.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re the ‘let’s make sure the neighbors have issues making eye contact after last night’ people.”

“God, remember when Eric tossed the fucking ear plugs at you?” I grinned at the reminder. “Fuck, Amara, you’re right.” I tried not to look like a fucking know-it-all when he admitted it. “We always could make the fucking world disappear, couldn’t we?”

“We still do, or can.” I raised up enough so I was face to face with him. “I love you, Negan, and I love US.” Kissing him gently, I pulled back. “Stop wearing kid gloves with me, OK?”

“Can I wear my leather ones?” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “I mean, leather on that skin of yours, fuck, princess, daddy’s getting ideas.”

My stomach growled and I laughed at the interruption. “As a wise leader once said, put a fucking pin in it,” his dimples were full blown. “Let’s go eat and check on our little bear, Dada.” He swatted my bare ass as I climbed off the table. “And I fully expect that punishment later, Daddy,” I winked, fixing my skirt so it covered me.

[moonstone-writes]

If you're still looking for prompts, how about 93? “I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”

Wow okay, this got... long. Hope you enjoy it

                                                The Ghost of You

 Prison wasnot at all to Cyrille Le Paradox’s taste, he had found his incarceration as ayouth a loathsome experience and could only say that the second time aroundthings just seemed worse.

The ghost was certainly not helping.

The hauntinghad been unobtrusive if annoying at first. Small things, like items movingunderfoot and low hanging objects falling or swinging down onto his head, nowit was getting worse. His tray would fly from his hands at meals, more thanonce putting him at risk of severe bodily harm as other, bigger, angrierinmates would find themselves covered in Cyrille’s food. His toes permanentlyached, he missed the simple ability to walk across a room without stubbing themagainst something. His bed shook when he tried to sleep and a piercing noisethat it seemed only he could hear followed him almost constantly.

He’d ignoredthe happenings for a time, attributing the phenomenon to clumsiness and tirednessborn of stress, then he’d seen Cooper standing in his cell behind him.

He lookedmuch as he had the last time Cyrille had seen him, still clutching his cane,his hat pulled low over his eyes but spectral, see through.

There onlyfor a second before vanishing.

At thatpoint Cyrille really had to admit, “yeah… I’m haunted.”

It wascertainly a unique problem, one that Cyrille was absolutely in the dark abouthow to solve.

“It’s a conundrumto be sure Boss.” The lone ally Cyrille had in this nightmare was Forrent, a twitchyweasel with no sense of smell who had cozied up to Cyrille in the hopes ofprotection.

Cyrillerubbed a hand over his face, trying to stay awake. Cooper’s ghost was determinedto deny him rest at night and he couldn’t sleep during the day, guards took umbrageto prisoners napping in the yard and to his fellow inmates, a sleeping targetwas an easy target.

“Heard a…heard a rumour ‘bout someone who might be able to help with your situation.”

“You did?Who?”

“Prison inthe women’s section. Word is she’s been transferred here  while she’s waiting on a hearing at the Hague.”

Cyrille’ssnout wrinkled at the mention of a ‘she’ and there was something else botheringhim. “The Hague? The World Court is for war criminals Forrent.”

The weasellooked at him, one bug-eye twitching. “And black magic users.”

Cyrillesighed, how was some hedge witch supposed to help him? Then he caught sight ofCooper across the yard, swinging his cane in vaguely threatening arcs. He paled,“set up the meet.” He told Forrent.

 The next dayCyrille waiting by the fence as a gator with stringy black hair and a gauntnessto her that suggested too much weight lost too quickly sidled up to him.

“You theskunk with the ghost problem?”

“I am. Areyou the witch who is going to help me get rid of it?”

“Thatremains to be seen Sugar.” The gator glanced around at the other inmates whohad flanked around her as she’d approached the fence. “Candle.” She saidholding out a hand.

A jackrabbitproduced a black tallow candle, a sow lit it and a broad shouldered doe stoodin front of the group a cigarette held between her fingers aa cover for thethin trail of smoke.

“Hand.” Thegator snapped, putting her own against the fence.

Cyrille didthe same, shuddering slightly at the feeling of her scaly palm brushing his furthrough the chain links of the fence.

The gator’seyes were blank and unfocused as she blew the smoke from the black candle atCyrille and began to mutter a rapid incantation. She abruptly stopped mid-word,snatching her hand back as though Cyrille had burned her.

She fixed abeady-eyed gaze on him, “you’re not haunted Sugar, you’re cursed.”

“What?”

“Cursed.”She said slowly like she was speaking to an infant. “You got the baddest kindof juju following you.”

“Can’t youget rid of it?”

She laughed,“let’s just say there’s history between me and what’s bothering you. And ohthey must really hate you if they don’t realise I’m here. Y’all are going toneed to an impartial third party if you want a banishment, I know better thanto invite that kind of attention onto myself.”

This was nothelpful to Cyrille, “what do you mean?” He demanded, cling onto the fence sotightly he could feel the wire cutting into his fingers.

“Ruby,guard.” The doe warned.

“Hey!” Oneof the women’s C.Os called out. “What are you doing over there? Away from thatfence.”

The gatorcast Cyrille a wink as she sashayed away. “Good luck with your ghost problemSugar. We’re just having a smoke here Officer, nothing to fret about.”

Cyrillesagged as he watched her go, what was he going to do now?

 Forrent, asit turned out knew of one more option available.

“I didn’t…didn’t want to suggest him first Boss, cuz he’s… cuz he’s kind of a  scary guy.” The weasel wrung his hands, windinghis tail around his feet.

Cyrille waswilling to try anything at this point, “scary how?”

“Well… uh..I mean… You know… y’know about the anti-zombie laws from the Peace Accord in ’71?”

Cyrillescoffed. “School children know about those laws Forrent, what about them?”

Forrentswallowed, looking up at Cyrille with wide eyes. “This guy is the reason theywrote them.”

 Two moredays of bruised shins, stubbed toes and minor concussions passed before Cyrillewas able to hobble into the prison library for the meet-up.

Dr Facilierwas a lanky swamp rat whose thin black moustache and dark purple fur gleamed ina way that suggested easy access to contraband. He sat at a table, idlyflicking through a book in the suspiciously empty library.

Next toCyrille, Forrent was positively quaking.“Man up.” Cyrille hissed at him, Cyrille could appreciate some subtleintimidation tactics but he did not appreciate when they were directed at him.

Facilier lookedup from his book at Cyrille’s approach. “Good afternoon.” His voice was smoothand unexpectedly deep. “You’ll be Le Paradox then?”

“I am.”Cyrille sat without waiting for an invitation, behind him Forrent remainedstanding, fidgeting nervously.

“Thought so.I could tell by the smell y’see.” He closed the book. “Henry go watch the doorwould you? There’s a good lad.” The lone prison guard, a young tiger who hadbeen standing by the door stepped outside. Cyrille felt a creeping sense of uneaseat that. This was a man who got what he wanted. “It pays to have friends on theother side.” He offered a toothy smile, he had a prominent gap between his buckteeth. “Now to business, I hear that you have a ghost problem.”

“I do. Ihear you can get rid of it.”

“Perhaps. Doyou know why this spirit is haunting you?”

“I killedhim.” Cyrille said simply. “After going back in time to destroy his familylegacy, kidnapping his girlfriend then betraying him and leaving him on aburning airship with a hole in time-space contained within it.”

Facilier didnot appear phased by this explanation, “I have certainly heard of strangerhauntings. I think we will need to commune with this spirit before I try andbanish it.”

“So you’lldo it?”

“Of course.And all I ask in return is that you owe me a favour.”

Cyrillesneered, “a favour?”

Facilier’swide smile dropped for instant and he looked angry, “how do you think that Igot to the top of this mud pile?” He took a breath and regained his composure. “Whatis power but the strategic exchanging of favours?”

The uneaseswept back into Cyrille, the rat had a point. He could, in theory ask Cyrilleto do anything. Perhaps beingindebted to an infamous old witch doctor who had made himself a lord of amaximum security prison wasn’t such a good idea. Perhaps Cyrille could livewith the haunting.

A row ofbooks cascaded off a nearby shelf and landed, quite in defiance of gravity andphysics one after the other straight onto Cyrille’s had.

“Deal.”Cyrille shot a hand out across the table.

Faciliertook his hand and shook it with deliberate slowness, “the deal is struck.” Hesaid and Cyrille felt a rush of something that ruffled his fur. Taking his handback Facilier hopped up from the table. “Shall we begin?”

“What now?”

“Unless you’drather wait?”

Another bookbounced off Cyrille’s skull. “Now is good.” He said through gritted teeth. “Nowis good.”

 They cleareda space, Facilier drawing a salt circle and lighting black tallow candles. “Giveme your hand.” He instructed Cyrille.

Cyrille didso, and the rat bit him! “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Would yourather I’d shiv’d you?” Facilier asked shaking drops of Cyrille’s blood intothe circle. “Now come stand beside me. The last thing we need is a mouthpiecefor the spirit to speak through.”

“Isn’t thatyou?” Cyrille asked, nursing his sore hand.

“I am abokor not a medium. I am here to summon the spirit to us, I am here to keep itfrom ripping it’s way free from the ethereal plane and becoming a wight andkilling us where we stand.”

Cyrilleinclined his head, “very well.” He said and reached over to shove Forrent intothe circle.

The weaselstumbled, pin wheeling his arms. “Buh… Buh… Boss?” He said casting a worriedlook back over his shoulder.

Cyrillefolded his arms, Facilier began chanting under his breath, there was a musical rhythmto the words and Forrent went ridged coronas of blue light shining from hiseyes and open mouth.

Facilier’schant ended. “What name was this spirit know by in life?” He asked.

“Cooper.”

“Cooper whohaunts this man, speak and tell us your purpose. How might we appease you?”

Forrentspoke but it was not Sly Cooper’s voice that echoed through the library. It wasa woman’s. “Return him.” She said.

“What isthis? You’re not Cooper.” Cyrille spat.

“Cooper bychoice.” The woman’s voice said. “Return our son and we will leave you.”

“Return?Son? We?” Cyrille spluttered, how many ghosts were haunting him? “No Cooper isdead I’ve seen him.”

“Not dead,only lost. Return him to those who love him, return him and we will free you.”

“There’snothing I… I don’t even know where he is!”

“Egypt. Inthe valley of the Kings.”

Cyrillelooked at Facilier, “how can she possibly know that?”

“Ghosts aretethered by emotional attachment, what is time to a being which exists beyondit? If her son is her tether then of course she would know where or when hewas.” Facilier made a careless gesture with his hand as though this was themost basic of knowledge and Cyrille a fool for not knowing.

Cyrillegrunted looking back to the ghost, “what do you expect me to do about it? Evenif he is alive, I can’t do anything from in here.”

Forrent madea rattling, gasping sound and the blue light faded. He blinked for a secondlooking around confused. Then with another rush of light a new voice spokethrough him. A man this time.

“Pass themessage to those who love him. Return our son.”

“Whatmessage?” He was being haunted by Sly Cooper’s parents, lost in time and evenfrom beyond the grave Coopers found ways to make his life difficult.

“Tell themhe is after the first, but before the vault.”

Cyrillelooked at Facilier, who shrugged. “What does that even mean?”

“Pass themessage to those who love him. Return him.”

“What, so hecan get a happily ever after epilogue, whilst I am left in here to rot? I thinknot. The sole comfort I have in this hell hole is knowing that Cooper is gone.”

That wasperhaps the wrong thing to say to the vengeful ghosts of Sly Cooper’s parents.An unearthly shrieking filled the room and books began flying off the shelvescircling them like a tornado.

Forrent’spossession swapped again and the woman’s voice spoke, deeper and echoing. “Returnhim.” She commanded. “Return our son or we shall remain. Return him or thereshall be no respite. Return him or you will shall long for the mercy of joiningus.”

Facilierbegan chanting again, behind them the chairs and tables rattled as they roseinto the air. The tornado of books and furniture began to tighten.

“Dosomething.” Cyrille yelled ducking a chair leg.

“Agree.”Facilier yelled back.

Cyrillewarred with that, he could let Cooper stay in lost ancient Egypt because if hedid then Cyrille had still won. But was a victory worth two angry ghoststormenting him for the rest of his life?

“Le Paradoxnow!”

And, cowardat heart, Cyrille caved. “Alright, fine I’ll do it.” The tornado died, itemsfalling back to the ground with a tremendous crash. “I’ll do it. Maybe thatharridan of his will be able to cut me a deal for the information.”

“No.” Cooper’smother spoke. “You will do this and you will ask nothing in return. We freeyou, that is your only reward.”

“You can’tbe serious?!?!”

The fallenitems on the ground began to rattle ominously.

“Take itfrom someone who knows.” Facilier muttered. “Ghosts are single minded entities,they fixate. So if I were you I would. Stop.Trying. To. Argue.”

With effort Cyrilleheld his tongue.

“You willpass the message. You will return our son.”

“After thefirst but before the vault.” Cyrille muttered. “Whatever that means.”

“They willknow. They will find him.” And the woman’s spirit left Forrent’s body with asound like a sigh and a rush of blue light.

The silencehanging in the library was eerie in her wake.

Forrent fellon his tail, blinking and dazed, “is it over?” He asked.

Cyrille andFacilier surveyed the overturned room.

“Almost.”Cyrille said, “almost.”

 InspectorCarmelita Fox looked, terrible frankly. Absolutely terrible.

She’d beenskinny the last time Cyrille had seen her, now she looked positively skeletal.She also looked furiously angry but then again she always looked like that.

She sat onthe other side of the glass partition, arms folded, one foot tappingaggressively. “What do you want Le Paradox?” She glowered at Cyrille. “You’vedeclined all my other interviews.”

She’d comeevery week at first, each time Cyrille had refused to see her. Finally she’dgiven up.

“I haveinformation about Cooper.”

That got herattention, her shadowed eyes widening. “What?”

“I havesomething to tell you about where he is, as well as when.”

Her eyesnarrowed. “why are you coming forward with this now?”

“Because Ihave only just come into possession of it.”

“How?”

“You wouldn’tbelieve me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Cooper’sdead parents cursed me and threatened to destroy me by attrition if I didn’ttell you where to find him.”

“You’reright I don’t believe you.”

Cyrilleshrugged, “be that as it may. I am fulfilling my end of the bargain by tellingyou this.”

“And what doyou want for it?”

Cyrilleopened his mouth, ready to ask for more freedoms, the luxuries he craved butbefore he could speak he saw a woman standing behind the Inspector. A raccoon ,in a jumper and jeans staring at Cyrille with such intensity that it felt likeshe was looking into his soul. And behind Cyrille, reflected in the glass wasCooper, except not Sly Cooper Cyrille knew now but Cunning.

“Le Paradox?”Fox frowned at him. “What is it?” She looked over her shoulder followingCyrille’s gaze.

“Nothing.”Cyrille gasped. “Nothing, I want nothing.”

Foxswivelled back in her seat, “nothing?”

“I offerthis freely.” Cyrille said, still staring wide eyed at the spectre of Cooper’smother. “Don’t ask me what this means but I was told to tell you that Cooper isin Egypt in the Valley of the Kings. And he is ‘after the first but before thevault’.”

Thegibberish seemed to mean something to the Inspector because something thatlooked a lot like hope bloomed in her eyes. “Egypt?”

“Yes.”

“Before thevault?”

“That iswhat I was told.”

She leaptfrom her, “guard.” She called and was gone and out the door before the buzzerhad even finished sounding.

And toCyrille’s amazed relief the ghosts stopped staring at him and drifted out afterthe Inspector.

Cyrille letout a breath, he sincerely that this would be the last he saw of any Coopers,dead or otherwise.

 A guardescorted Cyrille back to his cell, as he unlocked Cyrille’s cuffs the old wolfleaned down to whisper. “Doctor Facilier wishes to remind you that you owe hima favour.” He offered Cyrille a grin backing out of the cell.

As the doorclanged shut Cyrille wondered, if perhaps he had been better off with theghosts after all.

[atomkrp-blog]

WELCOME TO XAVIER’S, PARK “NURI” CHAEYEON !

… loading statistics. currently aged twenty-seven, entering first semester of xavier’s in seoul, south korea. decrypting files… mutant has the following records: strength +2, durability+1, agility +8, dexterity +6, intelligence +8. currently, she is classified under tier omega.

BACKGROUND.

park chaeyeon should’ve been the apple of their eyes. she was supposed to have been their reward, after years of patient waiting and praying. she had been the culmination of all their efforts, going to fertility doctors, maintaining healthy diets, doing everything everyone had ever suggested to them to be able to conceive a child. yet she was a disappointment, a disgrace and a horror. she’d been born to a medical academic, and his society lady wife. they were the perfect couple within their social circles, having been high school sweethearts and marrying young when neither of them had anything.

her parents had built their reputations upon their blood, sweat and tears, and chaeyeon would’ve been the icing on the cake of their perfect marriage if she’d just been born right. the fact that she was blind and deaf upon birth had devastated her parents, they had waited so long for a medical miracle and after conceiving through ivf, their precious child was disabled. if only that had truly been the case. her eyes opened when she was a few months old, fully coming to her even before her first birthday but with a catch. her eyes were the usual newborn blue, but didn’t fade away to a normal shade of brown like either of her parents. instead, chaeyeon’s eyes became silver-green, an oddity that doctors explained as recessive genes.

her hearing went from near deaf to as sensitive as a dog’s, or a cat’s. the slightest thing would wake her up from naps and she remained constantly irritable as a toddler. her childhood was stressful on her mother, or moreso, the countless of nannies that she burned through because none of them would stay to look after the strange child of dr park. rumours spread during soirees about dr park’s daughter growing sharp canines instead of normal teeth, clawing at her caretakers with unnaturally sharp nails, and scaring the help. no matter how much madam han explained that her child was simply unique and had a frail constitution, no one would really believe them.

eventually, dr park and madam han fell from grace and several months later, it was announced that their beloved daughter, park chaeyeon, had passed away from illness. society grieved their loss with them and they regained some standing, but even the birth of their son a few years later never quite repaired their reputation as much as the rumours around chaeyeon had destroyed it. and as for park chaeyeon? well, the child didn’t really die but she might as well have and perhaps it would’ve been better for her if she had. although according to legal records, park chaeyeon was certified dead and her death accompanied by a formal funeral, the truth was that the child had been handed off to a government funded scientific research facility.

with her legal identity erased, park chaeyeon eventually became known as nuri within the research lab and her parents never turned back to look for the child they’d abandoned to scientists who were fascinated by the mutation in her genes and did not see her as human. officially classed as government property, nuri wasn’t a human anyway. and the things they put her through while she was locked up in the facility were atrocities against humanity. nobody gave half a shit about her wellbeing as long as she was alive to go through the next round of experimentations.

it was only until one of the scientists at the facility grew a conscience that she managed to escape from the facility grounds and into society. still, with her obviously mutant appearances, it was hard to survive for long. thankfully for nuri, scouts from the academy found her and carted her off to the academy to a safe place for her to hide. she’s been there ever since, learning how to conceal her appearances from humans who will stare and harbouring a deep anti-human sentiment. once she masters her mutation, there’s no way she’s sticking around at the academy to ‘help the world’ or 'maintain peace’.

MUTATION.

nuri possesses feline physiology, which gives her characteristics of felines both domestic and wild. she has predator instincts, is excellent at stealth tactics, and has retractable claws.

STRENGTHS.

predator instincts. nuri is excellent at the hunt. aided by night vision and an extraordinary sense of smell, if you handed her someone’s belongings and asked her to track the person down, she’d be able to do it much better than any police officer and probably faster too. she instinctually dominates over those she feels are weaker than her, mentally, and if she can weasel her way out of it, physically as well. trapping prey and sinking her metaphorical teeth into them is a piece of cake too.

stealth tactics. in a place that she’s unfamiliar with, you might be able to catch with her tail out if you squint really hard. in her own turf, it would be impossible to know where nuri was unless you had mutations yourself. she blends into shadows, is silent as death itself, and can sneak up on you before you even realise she exists. by the time you notice her, it might be too late. she knows the exits to every room and gets herself out of sticky situations with ease, thanks to her feline agility, which makes imprisoning her a tough task.

retractable claws. instead of human fingernails like most other people, nuri has a set of sharp claws that rest on her fingertips. she can extend them at will to attack people, or else she can keep them retracted and if she trims them, they’re pretty much no different from regular human fingernails. her claws are sharp enough to tear through flesh and rip apart layers of muscles, with enough effort from nuri.

WEAKNESSES.

appearances. her biggest weakness is her appearance, which draws the attention of anyone who even glances in her direction. nuri has silver-green eyes, sharpened teeth, pointed ear tips, and even a thin layer of black fur all over her body instead of regular human hair. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there’s something strange about her and most pinpoint her as an oddity, standing out from the crowd and it makes it the most difficult for her to survive anywhere other than the academy.

her predator instincts make her violent and irritable when she doesn’t manage her base needs. if she’s hungry, tired, or agitated and stressed out, her senses can go out of whack and she may end up hunting the wrong thing or going feral on whatever it is she was hunting even if her end goal was simply to find the thing or person. if she’s in a terrible condition (e.g: starving, badly hurt, exhausted, etc.), she may lose control of her higher thinking skills and lash out at anyone, even people she considers allies.

her stealth tactics are not infallible because she is simply making use of illusions, shadows and trickery to maintain her stealthiness. anyone with a mutation to see past her bullshit, or a human with enough stealth training themselves, will not be fooled which basically makes this aspect of her ability useless. especially to mutants with excellent sensory skills or telepathic skills to detect her presence even when she’s hiding, she can only try to rely on her other abilities to outwit them.

due to her feline physiology, it’s often mistaken that she can’t break bones. however, she actually breaks bones much easier than one might think and possibly even easier than her feline counterparts. while her agility allows her to rebalance and distribute her weight enough to withstand certain falls and jumps, throwing her hard enough or crashing into her will definitely break her bones. tried and tested. even with increased calcium intake, her bone density is much lesser than a regular human’s and she recovers slower from fractures and bone breaking.

she has a notoriously short attention span and is prone to growing bored easily. while she doesn’t display any other disordered symptoms (ADHD or otherwise), it takes a lot to keep her attention and entertain her. endurance-wise, it makes focusing during hunting and stealth activities a lot harder for her. she’s capable of doing many great things with her abilities, but so far they’re impeded by this weakness of hers. some of the scientists researching her theorised that it could be due to lack of proper stimulus and socialisation, so it is unclear as of yet whether this weakness can be worked on or is merely a genetic aspect of her mutation.