#and when i get back after a holiday he purrs louder than ever

[solsticethebatearedfox]

damn, cats really are Creatures, aren't they? Couldn't find my sweet boy anywhere in the house, swore he was inside for the night, but he wasn't in any of his usual spots. And I couldn't see him anywhere else either - I even checked in the kitchen cupboard. So, I instead loudly opened his food drawer, and made tin cluttering noises. He instantly teleported in front of me from who knows where. Typical 🙄

[animeomegas]

Been thinking a lot about sasuke and his alpha going on a vacation by themselves and just doing very domestic things like washing his hair, maybe pairing his nails after a lot of begging bc yknow how he is, watching a movie and soft rubbing his tummy and he’s just so relaxed he falls asleep tucked into ur neck😔😩 Spain without the S, monarch 😩

Yesss, I love this idea so much, I got a little carried away haha. That’s why it took me so long to write this <3 Sasuke deserves to be spoiled as much as possible, canon did him dirty, but I am here to fix that!!!  I hope you enjoy ~~

Sasuke is almost a different person when he’s on holiday.

Being away from Konoha takes away so much stress from his shoulders, stress that he didn’t even know he had. He’s in a place where no one knows him, a place that’s never done anything to him, a place where nothing has to mean anything he doesn’t want it to. He’s free in a lot of ways.

He smiles more. He laughs more too. It’s such as big difference that I would say that trips out of Konoha are a pretty crucial part of taking care of Sasuke’s mental health.

He’s finds it easier to accept affection outside of Konoha, when he’s alone with his alpha. There’s no one there to judge him, or to pick him apart to use his weaknesses against him, he doesn’t feel like he’s constantly being watched in the way he often feels when at home. He has fewer nightmares too.

Sasuke would never leave Konoha permanently at this point, I don’t think, but honestly, his alpha is probably tempted just to wrap him up and run away together because of how much happier and healthier he is in small, unaffiliated towns or tourist countries.

You picked a cute, little rental cottage in the woods on the edge of a rural town in Tea Country.

You get there in the evening, throw down your luggage and decide for a quick bath and then bed, committing to activities tomorrow when you’re less tired from traveling.

You go to start running the bath while Sasuke familiarises himself with the room, but before you do, you pull him in for a cuddle, scenting him and nuzzling him, just so happy to be getting some alone time with him. And he does it back. Without thinking, without hesitation, without complaining. He makes a little comment about you trying to drown him in your scent but the little smile on his face says he’s only teasing. And as you try to pull away, he pulls your face into a kiss. You can feel him smiling against your lips and you can’t help but smile in return, breaking the kiss with a breathy laugh.

“I need to run the bath,” you whisper, breathless already.

“One more,” he demands coyly, pulling you back in.

When the bath is eventually run, you sit back and allow Sasuke to slip in front, his back against your chest. There are no words shared at first, but the silence isn’t awkward, it’s content, both of you simply lost in thought.

You offer to wash his hair for him, and he hands you the bottle with a “you’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

You laugh and tell him probably not.

He allows it with a sigh, but as soon as you start massaging the shampoo into his hair, the sighs change in tone. He pushes back into your ministrations and a couple of quiet purrs escape him, seeming louder than normal as the sound bounces off all the porcelain.

Before it’s time to wash it off, you use the foam to spike his hair up, laughing as he tries to elbow you away. He ends up turning around and grabbing you by the wrists, but now that you can see him face on, the laughter only gets stronger. His hair looks ridiculous.

Sasuke huffs and flattens it down before grabbing your face for a ‘shut up’ kiss, a personal favourite of his. You both get a little carried away with kissing in the tepid water, just basking in each other’s company until there’s a ‘shampoo in eye’ mishap that forces you apart.

The water is cold by the time you both get out.

 You both slip into pyjamas but before bed, you have one final request.

“Can I paint your nails, Sasuke? I brought some new nail varnish and everything!”

“Absolutely not. And why on earth do you have nail varnish?”

“I brought it specially for you~”  you whined, holding the container up to show him the deep purple colour.

Sasuke hit you with an unimpressed stare.

“That’s too bad, you should learn to make purchases more carefully next time.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“…Fine, but only my toenails.”

It’s relaxing in a way, having his nails painted, not that he’s going to say that out loud. It’s repetitive and quiet and… kind of pleasant. He catches himself more than a few times smiling at your concentrated face as well, amused that your taking this so seriously.

“There,” you interrupt his inner monologue. “The purple’s on! Doesn’t it look nice?”

Sasuke makes a non-committal ‘hnn’ noise in response, wiggling his toes a little.

“So, I just have to wait for this to dry then I can go to sleep right?”

“Nope! I still need to add the topcoat, I got a glitter one just for you!”

“If you put glitter on my toenails, I’m divorcing you.”

…

(The next morning a vendor at the market comments on how much she likes Sasuke’s glittery, purple nails.)

  “I’m exhausted,” you mutter into Sasuke’s neck, leaving a few kisses for good measure.

“It’s entirely your fault that it took this long to get to bed, so I have no sympathy,” he replies from his position as little spoon.

You huff a little but settle down, tightening your arms around his just a little for good measure.

 This was one of the most relaxed states you had ever seen Sasuke in. He was warm and comfortable, he felt safe and sleepy. He was even letting out little content noises as you rubbed a hand in circles over his stomach, pushing up his pyjama shirt ever so slightly. His skin was smooth and warm under you hand.

You could feel yourself succumbing to sleep, and so you placed a few kisses on his mating mark as a way to say goodnight and allowed your eyes to close.

And in the morning, you awoke, not to an empty bed as you so often did at home, but with your arms still wrapped around a sleeping Sasuke, completely relaxed and still dead to the world.

[blazedgraysons]

plsss a concept riding gray for the first time?

a/n: lemme stop saying this isn’t a series because at this point..... anyways merry (early) christmas if you celebrate it!!! wishing you plenty of presents under the tree and a stress free holiday <333

warnings: um this is all smut. like just 1.6k words of smut. enjoy 

part 1 part 2 part 3

“It’s not going to fit.” You say warily.

“We both know that’s not true.”

He’s sitting in front of you, hand lazily moving up and down. You raise an eyebrow.

“Are you forgetting you took my virginity like only a week ago?”

He smirks at that, hand movements speeding up slightly.

Grayson has spent the past week fucking you, spending all his free time trying to get you in bed with him. He seemed to be insatiable, having had a taste of you and not wanting to let go.

You were brushing your teeth one evening when he comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist.

You smile around your toothbrush, always welcoming the presence of your boyfriend. You had just figured this was his typical clinginess, wanting to be beside you every minute he can until you fully take him in through the mirror, noticing his appearance was different. His hair was tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it for the past couple of minutes, and he was already planting sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing from your collarbone upwards. He’s suddenly murmuring into your ear, “Wanna see you on top of me, angel.”

Everything you two had done for the most part has been pretty standard, missionary every night and alternating sloppy head in the morning. You hadn’t ventured too far into the sex world, and now that he was bringing new positions up, nerves were starting to ignite in your stomach.

“ I, I don’t know how.” You admit, knowing that that was already obvious to him. However, you were still caught up in wanting to impress him and make every new experience for you even better for his years of experience.

“Don’t care, I’ll show you.” He mumbles, still focused on marking up your neck, moving on to another side when he gets bored of the other.

Which is how you found yourself standing in front of him, you still in bra and underwear as he’s completely naked. He’s stroking himself, watching you like you're his own personal playboy, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the imagery.

“C’mere.” He grabs your waist, pulling you, so you’re directly on top of his upper thighs. You squirm slightly, and Grayson can feel you dripping on to his leg.

“Why don’t you want to?” He’s not teasing you, just simply wanting to understand your boundaries and ease any nerves.

“Are you forgetting the part about you being too big?” You roll your eyes. While he had been able to bottom out since the first time, it still was a stretch, and he had to prepare you every time, fingering and eating you out before he could finally chase his own relief. You were unsure how you were going to be able to focus and be in control like how he clearly expected; you so used to him guiding you through everything.

You trusted Grayson, knowing that he would never settle for anything less than the best for you. And you know this was all still part of a deep-rooted insecurity of him having more experience than you, but he leans up to kiss you deeply, and you’re moving on his thighs again, dragging wetness across his tattoos. He groans lowly in his throat, looking down at the small wet spot on his leg before looking back up at you.

“Want you to fuck me. Please - angel.” There’s something so pretty about the way begging sounds coming from him that you nod, knowing that he could drag you to hell and back if he asked nicely enough.

You lean in to kiss him, feeling brave, and slowly slip your mouth open, tongue brushing against his. You position yourself, so you’re sitting on top of him as he trails his kisses down your neck and chest, leaving dark marks along the way.

“ I know you’re wet for me, want it just as much as I do.” He murmurs after a particularly harsh suck on your collarbone, dragging a finger under your clothed center to prove his point.

You buck your hips slightly, missing the way he drags his finger so it just barely brushes your clit, and he gets the message, pushing one finger in between your slit. You’re used to this, familiar to the way he fingers you and stretches you out so you can take all of him. He adds another and then another, watching at the way your body takes three of his thick fingers.

In his defense, he is patient. He curls his fingers inside of you, repeatedly moving as you continue to leak more and more for him. You moan slightly, chest arching into him. You keep moaning, louder and louder, until your cumming all over his hand, only the first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty for me, angel.” Your face heats up slightly, hiding in his shoulder while he sucks your arousal off his fingers shamelessly. You’re still not used to his excessive praising even if your body reacts differently. Still, it does light a fire in you, wanting to keep hearing the sweet compliments come out of his mouth. He's helping you get undressed, unclasping your bra and tearing your underwear off until you push him back, making sure he’s flat against the bed and rising so your pussy is directly above him.

He watches intently, eyes never leaving the way you slowly sink down on him. He lets you get adjusted, getting used to the fact you can feel every throbbing inch of him. You both let out a soft moan, his head falling back when you slowly rise back up. You get to the point where only his tip is still inside you before dropping back down again, slowly grinding up and down his dick.

It’s not breakneck, nothing too incredible, you still trying to get used to the pace and too wrapped up in your own head on what’ll make him feel good.

Grayson, however, is in his own world. On Cloud 9, as he watches you drag yourself up and down, up and down. His eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected, trying to commit every single moment to memory, so he never forgets this.

“Look so fucking good like this.” He growls, placing a hand on your ass, not doing anything but to ground himself in this euphoria he seems to have found himself in. He leans up to suck on your nipple, harshly sucking on your tit while playing with the other. You whine loudly, rhythm faltering as his tip grazes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Grayson. So big.” The only thing that comes to mind, because he is. Even underneath you, you feel overwhelmed by just him: by his body, by his dick, by the twisted look of pleasure on his face, by the low grunts that keep spilling out whenever you twist your hips a certain way. It’s overwhelming, and his presence seems larger than life when he’s stretched out like this underneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, noticing how your pace is slowly starting to falter as you get tired, and starts thrusting up into you, planting his feet so he can reach even further and deeper than before. Your moans pick back up, watching as his face is set in concentration.

It’s funny how you had set out on making this night about him, and yet he’s grinding his hips into yours, set on making you cum before him.

He smiles smugly up at you, watching as your eyes roll back when he thrusts deep inside.

“Shit, Gray. I thought I was supposed to be - fuck” You whine out the last part loudly, him moving his hand down to rub your clit. “ S'posed to be fucking you.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to watch your body tremble slightly above his. Between your tits in his mouth, him rubbing your clit, and the incessant rolling of his hips, your orgasm is fast approaching.

Your nipple pops from his mouth, nipples wet and shiny from his spit as he looks up at you with his pupils blown.

“ Wanna see you cum all over my dick instead.” And if his actions before didn't do it, how fucking wrecked his voice sounds causes you to cum harder than you ever have before, your orgasm lighting every part of your body alive as your body trembles on top of him. You moan loudly, collapsing on top of him as ragged breaths come out of you, trying to catch your breath.

He keeps thrusting underneath you, too close to his own release to want to stop and feel the way you squeezed tightly around him, your own high forcing his body into overdrive. He’s snapping his hips relentlessly, and it’s almost too much for your body to handle, pubic bone brushing your clit into overstimulation.

You whine out, not knowing whether it’s for him to stop or keep going. But one look at the fucked out, determined look on his face gives you your answer for you.

“Amour,” you purr. “Cum.” It’s a simple demand, but it’s enough to get Grayson to falter, cumming deep inside you as he grinds through his orgasm. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, you getting used to the familiar feeling of him pulsing inside you.

He leans back onto the pillow, you falling on top of him. Both your chests rising and falling in tandem, as you listen to his erratic heartbeat try to find a steady rhythm.

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot you are?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” You mumble, sleepiness falling over you.

“You’re fucking incredible. That- that - was fucking incredible.” You start to grow shy under his constant praise and are quick to point out his work as well.

“Even if you did half the work?”

“Next time, you can be in charge.” He promises.

You smile wickedly, not even trying to hide the mischief in your eyes.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

[snezfics-n-shit]

Home For The Holidays - An AA fic that’s way too long

I’ve been thinkin bout that post that’s like “character with the kink is sneezing a lot and their partner who usually indulges them is having fun with How The Turns Have Tabled” so now I give you a Wrightworth + snzfcker Phoenix fic based on that exact premise. In which Phoenix re-introduces Miles to Mama Wright, Christmas is celebrated for 2 months straight, and disaster man Phoenix is back on his bullshit.

Tbh if I kept this lying around I’d just keep editing and it’d never get done oof but please enjoy

          Phoenix’s mother had clearly purchased a new doorbell. The tune echoed from behind the door at the press of the button; this year, it was much louder and played Jingle Bells a month too early. Speaking of a month too early, other than a rather articulate variant of a ‘no soliciting’ sticker, the decorations on the door were Christmas themed as well, completely skipping Thanksgiving and likely put up the day after Halloween. That was just how Mrs. Wright was: a major Christmas enthusiast through and through.

Just as expected, she greeted her son and his family while sporting a comfy Christmas-themed sweater. Cats in Santa hats, a design that had Trucy in awe at how cute they were. Christmas and cats, two of Mrs. Wright’s joys in life. Mrs. Wright had little contact with family members other than Phoenix and Trucy, so she resolved a lot of the resulting loneliness by adopting cats. The cats she adopted were a lot like her, having few blood relatives around and finding a home in a found family.

“Phoenix! You’re early!” Mrs. Wright looked up and down at her son, assessing just how many extra pies she would need to make; he was skin and bones since he had been disbarred! “You didn’t have to shave before you came, dear. The holiday is this Thursday, so you have time to make yourself look nice.”

“You tell me that every time I visit, mom.” Phoenix chuckled. “Today, I have a good reason to look nice. There’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

“Well, I know I’ve met your adorable daughter before.” Mrs. Wright leaned down to give Trucy a big hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to have a grandbaby to spoil!”

“You tell me that every time, too.” Phoenix stepped to the side, showing off Miles, who had done a spectacular job at hiding behind him before the big reveal. “This is my boyfriend, Miles Edgeworth. I’ve been meaning to tell you since we started dating, but only now does he have a day off where you can finally meet in person.”

“Wait, Miles?” Mrs. Wright blinked a few times. Miles was certainly as well dressed as the boy she remembered Phoenix bringing home so many times, but was he the same person? “That sweet boy who would always help me with the dishes when he stayed over? This is him?”

“I believe so, Mrs. Wright.” Miles hardly remembered his youth well enough to give a definite answer, but that sounded like something he would have done. It sounded like something he would do even now, actually.

“Sounds like you found yourself a keeper, dear.” Mrs. Wright held the door open wider to let the trio in. “It’s awfully chilly today. Come inside before you catch a cold.”

The walls were lined with framed pictures of Phoenix, with unsurprisingly many of which being of him celebrating Christmas. The trend continued even with pictures of Trucy that Phoenix had sent to his mother. While there weren’t nearly as many, there were a few notable photos of Phoenix’s parents: the pictures taken when they renewed their wedding vows and when Mrs. Wright got her associate’s degree after Phoenix started working with Mia, for example.

“Ah, now I remember.” Miles looked a little uncomfortable with the holiday-centric décor. “Your mother’s Christmas obsession.”

“Be nice.” Phoenix whispered. “It’s something she really likes; it’s not hurting anyone.”

“I love Grandma’s reindeer!” Trucy lifted herself with her tiptoes, eager to see the skillfully crafted wooden reindeer lining the shelf above the shoe rack. “Rudolph’s my favorite! Because he made everyone real sorry for making fun of him!”

“He did, didn’t he?” Phoenix slipped off his shoes and hung up his and Miles’s coats on the coat rack. “I like him, too. He had a talent that really turned Christmas eve around.” That sounded much like how he used to be in the courtroom. He missed that courtroom a lot.

“I’m gonna go find Buster!” Trucy ran off. Buster was one of Mrs. Wright’s cats; his big personality quickly made him Trucy’s favorite. Phoenix, however, was more fond of Doily (formerly Dollie), a friendly and relaxed cat who was happy as long as she had somewhere to sit. There were three more: a senior cat named Gerald, a gray tabby named Della, and a new kitten named Harvey. While it seemed like a lot of cats, the home Phoenix’s parents resided in after Phoenix left for Ivy University was specifically picked to be spacious enough for even the most rambunctious cats. 

“I believe you told me you wanted to introduce me to your parents’ cats, correct?” Miles followed Phoenix to one of the living room couches. “And you’re sure they’re not aggressive or anything?” While Miles knew dogs had a history of being working and companion animals, he couldn’t exactly say he had read any solid proof of cats earning a similarly high status. Even the nicest cats he had met always seemed more interested in leaving as many scars on his hand as possible than being friendly with him. 

“I can vouch for all but Harvey, since he’s new, but my mom has always been something like a cat whisperer.” Phoenix yanked a tissue from the end table next to the couch’s arm rest. “I’m sure they’ll like you a lot.” He smiled before blowing his nose softly. “My nose must be thawing out.” He chuckled.

“I told you to bring your scarf when I called you.” Mrs. Wright called out from the kitchen. “Now you’re catching a cold, aren’t you?”

“No, I feel fine.” Phoenix rubbed the bottom of his nose with the tissue folded in half. “Just part of warming up.”

“I’m surprised you’d forget your scarf for someone who claims going out with a wet head spells ‘pneumonia.’” Miles hummed. 

“Hey, you know it’s not scarf weather.” Phoenix chuckled and tossed the tissue into the trash bin, impressed that he made the shot. Miles found it amusing that Phoenix completely ignored the wet head comment, likely because he really did tell Miles and Trucy that all the time. “It is the perfect weather for mom’s homemade stew, though.”

“I’m eager to try it, considering you’ve been talking it up since she called to invite us over.”

“It’s really good!” Phoenix repeated the claim he had been making for weeks. “I can’t wait for you to try it.” He pressed his knuckle against his nose. “Hopefully it’ll be dinner soon.”

“That won’t be for a while, I’m afraid.” Mrs. Wright carried some glasses of water to the living room. “Your father is working late tonight.”

“What does he do?” Miles leaned forward.

“He works in construction. He’s very proud of his work.” Mrs. Wright smiled as she placed the glasses of water on the coasters sitting in front of Miles and Phoenix. “Before Phoenix was born, where he worked didn’t earn him nearly enough to support us. He’s been much happier ever since he’s found somewhere that lets us live comfortably.”

“Where did he work before, if you-” Miles was cut off by the sound of Phoenix blowing his nose again. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

“He worked with his father and other members of the community he grew up in.” Mrs. Wright explained. “It was actually looked down upon to earn the income we needed, or to even have a dream job. That’s why we’ve been so supportive of Phoenix pursuing his dreams; if he wanted to change his major a second time, we would have gladly let him.”

Miles couldn’t imagine being actively discouraged from achieving success. He assumed that pressure was always the other way around. He wasn’t able to lose himself in his curiosity, though. Phoenix’s deep sniffing made sure of that. 

“Phoenix?” Mrs. Wright cocked her head. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Yeah, really.” Phoenix waved his hand as if to dismiss any concerns. “I’m sure this’ll stop before dinner.” His breath hitched for a second, but nothing came of it other than an exhale through his mouth.

“If you say so.” Mrs. Wright stood up and left for the kitchen. “I’m going to work on the desserts, so you two just relax and drink your water. I think you need eight glasses a day.”

“Daddy! I found Buster!” Trucy cradled the fluffy orange cat like a baby, Buster’s favorite way to be held. “He let me hold him this whole time! He’s so nice!” Phoenix gave Miles a reassuring smile, pointing to Buster as proof the Wright cats were much friendlier than past cats Miles had met.

“Hey there, Buster.” Phoenix beckoned Buster to sit on his lap. “Wow, he’s really liking me today.” He blinked a few times. “Normally he just walks away when I ask for him to sit next to me.”

“Maybe he can smell that you’ve been spoiling Pess,” Miles joked, “and he wants you to spoil him as well.”

“Cats are pretty smart. Ah!” Phoenix reached for another tissue, squeezing his eyes shut as he blew more heavily than the last time. “Guess I wasn’t done.” He laughed, dabbing the corners of his eyes. “But yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I hope he’ll like me as much as he likes you.” Miles reached to pet Buster and was shocked to hear the loud purrs the cat made. Buster was so soft, Miles thought he could pet him forever; there weren’t even any claws out. “He’s actually letting me pet him.” 

“I told you so.” Phoenix sniffed. “Buster is really friendly. My parents have had him for almost as long as we had Doily. She’s my favorite. I’d show her to you but she’s probably asleep right now.” He pressed the back of his wrist against his right eye, putting on some pressure as he rubbed absentmindedly. Dropping his hand revealed the area around his eyelid to be a tad pink.

“Are you tired from the trip, love?” Miles removed his hand from petting Buster to caress Phoenix’s cheek. “Maybe you should lie down for a while.”

“Yeah, I usually do that when I visit mom alone, actually.” Phoenix gently picked Buster up to gently place on Miles’s lap, laughing softly as he watched Miles light up in fascination with Buster’s sociability. He disposed of his tissue before poking his head into the kitchen doorway to find his mother and Trucy taste-testing desserts. “Uh, hey, mom?”

“Yes?” Mrs. Wright looked up from the tray of finger food desserts. Quite a few were already gone, but knowing her, there would be more by the time she brought out her famous pumpkin pie.

“I’m going to lie down for a while. I should be up for dinner, though.” Phoenix directed his attention to his daughter, whose whipped cream decorated cheeks were proof she had her share of the desserts. “And Trucy?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Try not to eat too many sweets or you’ll spoil your appetite.” 

“Okay.” Trucy nodded and proceeded to put another small dessert in her mouth.

“Go ahead and get some rest, dear.” Mrs. Wright sighed at the sight of Phoenix’s face. “You do look pretty tired. Your bedroom should be ready, but you might need to convince Doily to let you have some room on your bed.”

“Doily’s always been my sleeping buddy here, so I don’t mind.” Phoenix assured. He made his journey upstairs, sniffling once or twice and noting he needed to blow his nose again. The sight of only two twin sized beds in the guest room was disappointing, but considering Miles was a surprise additional guest, it was more Phoenix’s fault for not allowing his mother more time to make the appropriate accommodations. Maybe he and Miles could alternate between the bed and the living room couch while Trucy kept her bunny themed bed throughout the week of their stay. 

As predicted, Doily was sleeping on Phoenix’s pillow and needed just a gentle nudge to let him have somewhere to put his head; not enough to chase her off the bed completely, just enough to make some room.

“Hey, Doily. Did you miss me?” His vision grew slightly blurry and his eyes felt wet. Phoenix didn’t remember yawning, but he must have been really tired. “I could use a nap, too, so I’d like you to… hh… to-- Hh’TTCCHHHhh!” He kept his tongue at the roof of his mouth as if that would quiet the sound. Despite his efforts, he scared Doily off the bed completely. “Ngh… Sorry.” He sniffled with his hand pressed under his nose. Maybe he was coming down with a cold after all. 

He slid himself under the blanket, admittedly afraid of how he would be feeling whenever he would wake up. If he was getting sick, maybe it wasn’t completely bad, considering he was staying with his mother. His mom was good at that sort of thing, even long after he moved out on his own. 

When the back of his head hit the pillow a deep, aggressive itch attacked the back of his eyes and sinuses. How was he supposed to sleep like this? No matter how hard he pressed, alternating between rubbing his eyes and nose, it only seemed to get worse. Was that his pulse? Behind his eyes?  

“A’aschhHUUH! Aa’SSCHHHOOUuh! T’TTCHHuuh!!” He sat up, only just having a moment to get some air before he started again. “T’SHCHUUH!! TT’CHHHOOUH!!”

“Sweetheart, sorry to disturb you, but--” Miles stopped in his tracks at the sight of the state Phoenix was in. “Are you… feeling alright?”

“This has to be the weirdest cold I’ve ever had.” Phoenix squinted as he sniffled thickly. “I just wedt to lie dowd ahd-- Hh’TTTCHHOOH! I cad’t stop sdeezi’g.” 

“I see.” Miles kept his mouth shut regarding how this was the exact sort of thing he’d tell Phoenix to make him flustered. He did, however, thought it would be amusing to see Phoenix’s face when offered a handkerchief. “Here, you could use this.” Phoenix didn’t look flustered at all, simply desperate as he took the handkerchief and sneezed thrice into it. What a shame. “You were fine when we left home.” 

“That’s what’s so weird about it!” Phoenix aggressively rubbed at his face. “Dot to bedtiod everythi’g itches.”

“That doesn’t sound like a cold, love.” Miles wiped some of the tears from Phoenix’s face with his thumb. 

“I feel pretty sick.” Phoenix muttered before blowing his nose again, unsure why he was even bothering at this point.

“I imagine you do.” Miles kissed Phoenix’s very wet cheek. “Poor thing. Do you have any ideas on what’s making you feel so bad?”

“Nope.” Phoenix shook his head. “I kinda just started a little bit when we got here and-- Aa’SSHHOOUH! T’TSSCHHOOUHh!! *snf* I can’t stop since I came upstairs.”

“Maybe you’ve developed an allergy to cats?” 

“Don’t even joke about that!” Phoenix scolded, taking offense. “They’re my family!”

“I’m not joking. It’s a genuine possibility.” Miles made a small gasp and looked at his hand. “I touched your face after petting one of them, too. I’m so sorry.”

"Don't be sorry because I'm not allergic to cats." Phoenix huffed. He pushed the blanket off his lap and stood up, not wanting to discuss the topic further. “I’m going back downstairs.”

“Alright.” There was no point in arguing. If Phoenix was going to be so stubborn about this, then Miles just needed to make the best of the situation.

Miles followed Phoenix down the stairs, briefly interrupted when Phoenix needed to stop halfway so he could sneeze again.

“Bless you, sweetheart.” He thought saying that might push the envelope a little.

“Are you baki’g fud of be?” Phoenix glared at him through red, damp eyes. 

“I wouldn’t dare.” Miles answered sincerely. “You just sound so awful.” Okay, maybe he was having a little fun, nudging Phoenix to hopefully see the amusing irony of his circumstances.

Phoenix grumbled something as he dragged himself to the kitchen, clearly still annoyed with Miles for what he had said earlier.

“I thought you were napping, Daddy.” Trucy looked up from a tall glass of chocolate milk. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“He couldn’t get any sleep, from what I can tell.” Miles leaned against Phoenix’s shoulder. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m getting sick.” Phoenix scratched the back of his head. 

“Oh, I knew you’d catch a cold standing out there without a scarf.” Mrs. Wright gently pushed Phoenix on the way to the living room. “Rest on the couch and I’ll get you some blankets.”

“I told you, it’s just a cold, really.” Phoenix made eye contact with Miles the whole time as he blew his nose with a fresh tissue. 

“Perhaps you’re right.” Miles lied and kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head. “I certainly hope you’ll feel well enough to join us for dinner on Thursday.”

“Of course I will.” Phoenix insisted just before Mrs. Wright draped a large blanket over him. While Phoenix thought nothing of it and the intense itch that followed, Miles needed to hold his tongue as he watched short hairs floating around in Phoenix’s general direction. “T-Thanks.” He stuttered as he fanned his face with his hands, truly a sight Miles wished he could comment on with honesty. “Aa’IIISHHHUUH! T’TCHHUUh!! Ugh. Ow.”

“Your poor nose.” Miles cooed. “It must be so tiring, sneezing like that.”

“It is.” Phoenix furiously rubbed at his eyes. “Agh, my eyes, too.”

“They’re really bothering you, aren’t they?” Miles played up his sincere concern. “Driving you crazy, I bet.” He dropped a hint, hoping that extra pink in Phoenix’s face wasn’t just more released histamine. In the corner of his eye was Doily, who was staring intently at Phoenix. “Hey, little one.” Miles leaned over to pet the cat. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here like that.” He whispered, not wanting to further offend Phoenix.

Doily, being hardly fluent in human suggestion, hopped onto Phoenix’s lap anyway. 

“Doily, did you come to check up on me?” Phoenix could hardly keep his smile in place before he started sneezing again. “Gh… Sorry, Doily.” He scratched behind Doily’s ears; the sound of his sniffling accompanied her purring.

“Um, sweetheart?” 

“I know what you’re about to say, and I still say no.” Phoenix pet Doily with both hands, almost out of spite.

“No, that’s not exactly--”

“Daddy! You found Doily!” Trucy stared at Phoenix and the purring cat for a while. “What’s wrong with your arms, Daddy?” Miles took hold of Phoenix’s right arm.

“Hey! You’ll scare her away again!” Phoenix protested, not even paying attention to what Miles was doing. Just as he warned, Doily was startled by the sudden movement and ran off somewhere else in the house.

“Hives.” Miles observed bluntly. “Trucy, dear, could you ask your grandmother to find some benadryl?” Phoenix raised no objections to that, which Miles hardly minded at all. 

“Okay, Papa Miles!” Trucy ran off to find Mrs. Wright, leaving Phoenix and Miles alone to hopefully reach an agreement.

“Well, what happens now?” Phoenix looked down. “Do I just never visit my parents again?” Was that his way of saying Miles was right?

“Of course not, love.” Miles massaged the blotchy areas of Phoenix’s arm. “You’ll just need to be more careful, which you’ve been failing to do a lot lately. Feels like everyday I need to pull you out of trouble.”

“I can’t eat mom’s cooking if I’m asleep, though.” Phoenix let his head hit the soft back of the couch.

“Then we’ll pick up something non-drowsy while you’re resting this evening.” Miles made it sound so easy. In fact, everything he had been saying recently sounded just so… so… Oh.

“You’ve been talking like this on purpose.” Phoenix accused, punctuated by a thick sniffle. There was that flush Miles was looking for. “Is that what I sound like?” He hid his face behind his hands.

“I took some creative license.” Miles smirked before kissing Phoenix’s cheek. “I was starting to get worried when you said you ‘couldn’t stop sneezing’ with a straight face.” 

“Don’t remind me.”

“And miss out on all this fun? I think not.” 

“So is this all-- T’TCHHHOOH!” Phoenix pressed his hand under his nose, giving his voice even more of a nasal quality. “It’s all just payback, huh?”

“Not quite.” Miles held Phoenix’s free hand with both his hands. “You always make me feel so attractive even when I’m looking like you do right now.”

“That’s because you can pull it off.” Phoenix finally managed to chuckle. 

“And so can you.” Miles didn’t let Phoenix protest that, shushing him with an index finger pressed to his lips. “I may not know one hundred percent how you see me, but I’d like you to feel every bit as special.”

“Miles!” Aha! Now Phoenix was very red in the face. Mission successful, if Miles said so himself. “Maybe when I don’t hear my mom’s footsteps coming down the stairs.”

[untilweyeetagain]

cat-astrophes

Pairing: Catra/Adora

Summary: Catra finds a dog, and reacts as any cat would.

Word Count: 1422

Warnings: None, unless you have a fear of puppies??

After a long day of Princess Alliance meetings, there was nothing Adora wanted more than to just fall into her bed and sleep for the next hundred years, but she had other things to deal with before she could go to bed. 

Before she could even get out of her seat though, ‘Other Things’ came barreling around the corner and pounced into her lap. Catra was panting, out of breath, but she let out an almighty shriek (that she would later deny adamantly) when a small creature ran into the room after her.

The animal was tiny, with fluffy brown fur and a long tail. It came closer to Adora’s chair, seemingly harmless, and yipped loudly, causing Catra to scream again and scrabble further up Adora’s torso. Laughing, Adora tightened her grip on her frightened girlfriend and held her closely, running her fingers through her growing hair to calm her down.

“Catra,” she began. “Are you scared of the dog?”

Catra, to her credit, had a steady voice when she answered, but Adora could still feel her small trembles as she looked down at the tiny creature currently nuzzling into Adora’s leg.

“That thing tried to attack me! It just ran up to me and started jumping onto me! We never had anything like it in the Fright Zone!” She had yet to release her death-grip on Adora, but the blonde could tell she wasn’t as jumpy as she had been, to begin with.

“Catra… he’s just a puppy, he can’t hurt you, don’t worry. Look,” she said, untangling her hand from Catra’s hair to scratch the dog behind his ears, “he’s harmless! He’s just looking for a little love, that’s all.”

While she still didn’t get off Adora’s lap, Catra visibly relaxed at the blonde’s reassurance, her overwhelming fear from before now just a slight wariness towards the small animal.

That is, until Glimmer teleported into the middle of the room and caused the calm puppy to become very excited and run over to her. He barked loudly, wagging his little tail to and fro, and Catra instantly clung to Adora again, terrified of the small, jumping dog. 

Glimmer looked a bit confused for a second before she took in the whole scene, and she giggled, bending down to pick up the tiny dog who was yipping and barking eagerly. She started walking once the dog was secure, and it took a few steps for Catra to realise what was about to happen.

She let out another shriek, this one louder than the last, and bolted from Adora’s lap, skidding ‘round the corner as Glimmer chased her outside with the puppy. Adora laughed, getting up to follow them.

“You’ll have to come down at some point, Catra!” She heard Glimmer say as she reached the courtyard. She looked around, trying to see where her girlfriend was, but she only saw Glimmer and the puppy at the base of a large tree.

Realising what Catra had done, she laughed again, looking up to see the brunette at the top of the tree, clinging to the branches in terror (it was hard to tell if it was from the dog or the height, but Adora supposed it was safe to assume that it was both). 

“No! Not until you take that thing far away from here!” Catra said adamantly.

“You can’t stay up there all day,” said Glimmer.

“Try me!” shouted Catra, and Adora knew that she was serious - the only person more stubborn than Glimmer was Catra, and she knew she’d stay up there overnight if it meant not coming close to the dog.

“It’s getting late,” Adora said to Glimmer. “Maybe you should go find Bow and then try to find out who the puppy belongs to.”

“Fine,” the pink-haired girl sighed. “You just have to suck the fun out of everything.”

“Oh, trust me, we can still have plenty of fun with this tomorrow,” she said, knowing that no one, including her, would ever let Catra live this down.

“That’s true,” Glimmer brightened up. “Okay, let’s go, little guy.” And with that, she teleported away, presumably to wherever Bow was.

“Hey, Catra?” Adora called up. “You good to come down now? The dog’s gone.”

“Um…” she started. “I don’t really know how to get down again…” she trailed off, still clinging tight to the trunk of the tree.

Adora laughed, wondering how her girlfriend always managed to get herself into these situations. “Wait a minute then, I’ll get someone to come and help you down.”

She walked back into the Palace, not sure who to ask for help - Glimmer would be able to teleport up and bring her down, but she was off trying to find the little dog’s owner. Perfuma might’ve been able to grow some vines to reach up and bring Catra down, but she was already on her way back to Plumeria. Mermista was in Salineas with Seahawk on holiday for the week, so she wasn’t available either.

Adora was considering whether she could get Swift Wind to fly close enough to the tree for Catra to climb onto his back when her answer walked out of a door a few metres ahead of her.

“Frosta!” She called, causing the blue-haired princess to turn around, a questioning look on her face. “Would you be able to make an ice slide? Like, a really tall one?”

“Uh, I suppose so. Why?” she asked, confused about the weird request.

“Come with me and you’ll see,” she turned and made her way back out to the courtyard, hearing Frosta’s footsteps behind her as the shorter girl followed her.

She knew Frosta understood her questioning when she heard a small giggle and a barely-smothered snort from next to her. 

Catra, noticing that Adora was back and had Frosta with her, shouted down to them. “Stop laughing! It’s not my fault Glimmer chased me into a dead end!”

Frosta laughed outright at that and raised her hands lazily, ice appearing in the shape of a slide at her motions. Catra stepped gingerly onto the slippery ice, carefully lowering herself into a sitting position before letting go of the tree trunk and sliding slowly to the ground.

The grumpy cat muttered a thanks to the small princess before stalking off in the direction of her and Adora’s room. Adora thanked Frosta properly, apologizing for Catra’s attitude and explaining what had happened. Frosta just giggled again, assuring her that it was okay, and they parted, Frosta heading wherever she meant to go before Adora stopped her while Adora followed after Catra to their room.

Upon reaching their room, she opened the door cautiously, unsure of what mood Catra would be in, but she saw the girl curled up on their bed with Melog, pretending to be asleep (Adora had known her for long enough to know when she was faking sleep).

Deciding to have a little more fun before she dropped the subject, she crept into the room, making her way to the side of the bed silently. Melog had noticed her, but he stayed quiet when Adora put her finger to her lips. 

When she was right behind Catra, she leapt forward onto the bed and shouted “Woof!” right into her ear. Catra screamed, sitting up and grabbing the pillow under her head, whacking Adora in the face once she realised it was just her. 

Adora was laughing, tears streaming down her face as Catra kept hitting her with the pillow. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!” She cried once she calmed down enough to speak. “But the look on your face was so worth it!” She dissolved into laughter again and leaned her head on Catra’s shoulder, causing Catra to nudge her off and whine about how it wasn’t that funny.

“It was pretty funny though, you have to admit,” Adora said, getting up to change into her sleep clothes.

“Fine, it was a little bit funny, but you didn’t have to laugh that loudly,” Catra complained.

“But I did though,” Adora laughed, settling into bed beside Catra, who instantly snuggled into her, Melog draping himself over both of them like a living blanket. Adora cut off any further whining from Catra by scratching behind her ears, pulling a purr from deep within the brunette’s chest. They both drifted off quickly, tired from the day’s activities and imagining how the rest of the Princesses would react in the morning. Netossa was going to have a field day with this.

[animezing-fandoms]

The Dragon’s Family

Masterlist

Relationships: Nalu 

Warnings: A couple of suggestive jokes when Loke is present but other than that the bulk of this fic is just pure fluff.

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve at the Dragneel house and Natsu finds out that he and Lucy’s kids have the wrong idea about the kind of dragon Igneel was from a book they found on dragons. They think he was a killer just like the other dragons 400 years ago, and Natsu can’t say anything to convince them otherwise. Thankfully, Lucy remembers a spell that Wendy told her about that could bring Igneel back to life for just one night. 

A/N: Hey guys, Merry Christmas Eve! I got this idea after watching How to Train Your Dragon: Homecoming and I thought it would be cool to see how Igneel would react to Natsu and Lucy’s family. So give this fic a read if you like and I hope you all have a great Holiday! 

---------

In a small cottage in the woods on the outskirts of Magnolia, a mother, two children, and a flying cat were putting the final decorations up around their house for Christmas.

"Whoa I can see the whole living room from up here!" A little boy exclaims.

The mother who was on a ladder halfway up against the Christmas tree heard her son and looked up and saw the flying cat holding him in the rafters to wrap garland around them.

"Happy please be careful not to drop Igneel!" The mother pleads.

"Don't worry Luce, this little guy's not heavy like you are!" Happy replies.

"It's not his weight I'm concerned about." Lucy growls through gritted teeth while a vein pops out of her forehead.

"He squirms around a lot, especially in that sweater so make sure you've got a good grip on-"

"AH!" Igneel shouts as he slides out of his sweater and falls towards the floor.

"Igneel!" Lucy shouts.

"Don't worry mommy I've got him!" The daughter says and runs towards her falling little brother.

Just as she's about to reach him she trips on the garland that was still on the floor and is about to hit it with her brother when they're suddenly both caught by someone who appeared out of nowhere, as if by magic.

"Never fear my dear, for your knight in shining armor is here!" The hero says.

"Loke!" Lucy exclaims in relief while holding her hand over her chest.

"Thank goodness! It's times like these when I'm glad you can open your gate on your own. And even happier that you'll come help the kids too when Natsu or I can't get to them." Lucy says.

"Well why wouldn't I? They're your children so I care just as much for them as I do for you." Loke explains as he sets Igneel down and ruffles his spiky blonde hair.

"You're so cool Uncle Loke!" Igneel exclaims with stars in his eyes.

"Why thank you young man. That is an image I try to keep up." Loke says while pushing up his glasses.

"Thanks for keeping me from falling on my face." The girl says.

"Why of course Miss Nashi. You may have inherited your father's wild pink locks but you were also gifted with your mother's beautiful face." He says and holds her chin gently.

"To see any damage come to a face as lovely as your mother's would be an absolute tragedy! Especially since I imagine she looked just as adorable as you are now when she was your age!" Loke exclaims and tickles Nashi's stomach.

"And even though many years have passed, your mother still looks just as radiant as when I first met her." Loke says and comes to stand beside the ladder Lucy was on and winks at her.

"Very smooth Loke." Lucy chuckles.

"That's not the only thing about me that's smooth Lucy." Loke adds.

Lucy's face turned bright red when she saw Loke open up his button down shirt to expose his chest to her.

"Feel free to touch anywhere you'd like to see just how smooth I am." Loke requests.

"I thought dad didn't like it when Loke flirts with mom?" Igneel asks his big sister.

"He doesn't. That's why Uncle Loke only does it when dad isn't home." Nashi explains to him.

"Loke keep your shirt on when the kids are here! It's bad enough that they're already exposed to Gray's stripping habit, I don't want them to have two men in their life that are constantly flashing them!" Lucy complains.

"Of course, I must have been so distracted by your beauty that I've forgotten my manners. Allow me to conduct myself in a more gentlemanly manner by holding the ladder to keep you safe and steady." Loke says while holding the ladder.

"This wouldn't have to do with the fact that I'm also wearing a skirt right now would it?" Lucy asks.

Loke merely chuckles and blushes.

"Well, either way it doesn't matter. I should go put a fire in the fireplace since it gets really cold in this house without Natsu." Lucy says and starts to come down the ladder.

Then Loke suddenly appeared at her side, delicately holding her hand.

"While we're waiting for his return I could think of a few ways to keep you warm." He says suggestively.

"Just what do you think you're doing with my wife Loke?" Natsu asks.

Loke's smoldering look turned to one of fear as he froze when he heard Natsu's voice from the front door behind him as it shut.

"Daddy!" Nashi and Igneel exclaim as they run towards Natsu.

He scoops his kids up in a big hug and smiles at them both before frowning at Loke who was still holding Lucy's hand.

Loke immediately let go of it before smiling sheepishly at Natsu.

"Oh well if it isn't the man of the house!" Loke chuckles nervously.

"Your wife mentioned that you were out on a job. I didn't expect you back so soon."

"It was a short job. I wouldn't take one any longer on Christmas Eve." Natsu explains.

He sets the kids down and walks over to Lucy.

"And if anyone's gonna be keeping Lucy warm it's me." Natsu says and holds her waist and lifts her off the ladder.

"Oh Natsu..." Lucy says softly and holds Natsu's shoulders before kissing him.

Natsu melts into the kiss and adjusts his hold on her to wrap his arms around her waist to keep her steady.

“Well you may be here now to keep her warm but while you were gone I was the first one to taste your wife’s delicious cookies.” Loke brags.

Natsu turned away from Lucy to frown at Loke.

“You did what now?” He growled.

“Natsu he’s talking about the Christmas cookies I baked today.” Lucy says.

“This one looks like Santa!” Nashi says, holding up a cookie.

“And this one looks like a Christmas tree!” Igneel says while holding another.

“Oh.” Natsu says and relaxes.

“But if you’re offering then I would love to sample those-“

“Get lost Loke!” Natsu scolds before Lucy closes his gate.

“Does he always show up and say stuff like that to ya when I’m not around?” Natsu asks his wife.

“Not enough to warrant another talk like the one we gave him before our wedding. Although because of you it was more of a threatening lecture than a conversation between mature adults.” Lucy reminds him.

“I’m sorry about that Luce. I just don’t like it when other guys say stuff to you like that. I’ve never been good at saying romantic stuff to ya, so when other guys do that it makes me feel like I’m failing ya in some way.” Natsu admits.

“Natsu, Loke might be great at sweet talk but you’re a sweet guy. You show me how much you love me through your actions, and that speaks so much louder to me than words ever could.” Lucy says and cups his cheek.

Natsu nuzzled his face against her palm and smiled.

“That’s ironic coming from an author.” He says.

Lucy laughed and then Natsu scooped her up again and spun her around while pecking her lips over and over. He stopped and set her down when he felt a tug on his pants. He looked down and saw his son looking up at him with curiosity.

“Daddy what job did you take that was so important you left us on Christmas Eve?” He asks.

“Well it was a job that only I could do. That huge blizzard yesterday froze Hargeon’s port and all of the ships were stuck. So I had to go un-freeze the port by melting the ice with my fire.” Natsu explains.

“Whoa, you melted an entire bay with your magic?” Nashi asks in amazement while resting her weight on her hands that were pressing on her brother’s head.

“I sure did! One Fire Dragon King roar and then those ships were all sailing!” Natsu exclaims.

“And how many of those ships ended up catching on fire too?” Lucy asks sternly.

Natsu scratches the back of his head as a bead of sweat drips down his forehead.

“You’ll find out when Gramps yells at me about the bill he’s gonna get.” Natsu says.

Lucy rolls her eyes then smiles at him. Then she shivered and rubbed her arms as a chilling gale blew by the house.

“The winds pushing away the blizzard from yesterday have been freezing!” Happy exclaims before his teeth chatter as he holds himself.

“Yeah it’s been really cold here without you dad.” Igneel says while hugging himself.

“Hey! Daddy’s not the only one who can make fire! I can help warm you up Iggy!” Nashi says.

“Oh yeah, Nashi uses starfire magic. Why didn’t we just use her magic to warm up in here?” Happy asks.

Nashi holds her hands out in front of her brother and then sparkling flames come shooting up from her palms and one of them catches on the sleeve of Igneel’s sweater making him scream and flail his arm before Natsu sucked up the fire.

“Because she’s only allowed to use it when Natsu’s here so the house doesn’t burn down.” Lucy reminds him.

Nashi pouted and Natsu pulled her into a hug.

“Don’t be down kiddo, you’ll get better at controlling it with practice, that’s how I learned. Besides, if you pout then Santa won’t give you any presents.” He reminds her and she immediately stopped pouting and gave Natsu her biggest smile.

She squeals in delight as Natsu stands up and holds her over his head by holding her waist with his hands before laying her down over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while she laughed.

“How about you help me make a fire in the fireplace to warm up your mom, Igneel and Happy?” Natsu suggests.

“That sounds fun!” Nashi cheers.

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

“Oh this feels so much better!” Happy purrs as he curls up on Igneel’s lap by the fireplace.

“Great job Natsu.” Lucy says and lays her head against Natsu’s shoulder as they sat close together.

“Anything to make you happy Lucy.” He says before kissing the top of her head.

“Hey dad, who taught you fire magic?” Igneel asks.

“I’ve told ya before. Your grandpa Igneel. The dragon you’re named after.” Natsu says and ruffles his hair.

“Wait grandpa Igneel was a dragon!?” Nashi exclaims.

“Yeah he was. Natsu didn’t you tell them that?” Lucy asks.

“I thought so but maybe I forgot to mention that part?” Natsu wonders.

“Wait so grandpa Igneel was really a killer dragon?” Igneel asks.

“Whoa hey, that’s my dad you’re talkin’ about he was no killer. He was a good dragon and he taught me how to read and write and use magic.” Natsu explains.

“Yeah but he also killed a bunch of other dragons and people didn’t he? That’s how he became the Dragon King?” Nashi asks.

“Where’d you here that crap?” Natsu asks her.

“She may have tagged along with me and Levy to the library when she was doing research on dragons earlier this month…” Lucy admits.

“Someone wrote a book about Igneel?” Natsu asks.

“Not about him specifically but notable dragons like him.” Lucy explains.

“Like that one dragon Zirconis that Levy said made mommy naked!” Nashi says.

“Of course that’s the part she remembers.” Lucy grumbles.

“And then it tried to eat her!” Nashi exclaims.

“Daddy how were you able to avoid getting naked and eaten by Igneel?” Igneel asks.

“I was never naked, I had pants! And I never had to avoid being eaten because Igneel never wanted to eat me in the first place!” Natsu answers.

“But he was a dragon, and according to all of those books Levy found, dragons eat people!” Nashi says.

“Well not all of them, or else myself, your uncle Gajeel, aunt Wendy, and Sting and Rogue wouldn’t be here right now.” Natsu says.

“How do you know they weren’t just fattening you up to eat you later?” Igneel asks.

“Because Igneel would never do that, he cared about me! He even had your great-grandma Anna make me this scarf for me out of his scales.” Natsu explains and pulls his scarf looser to show his kids the scales.

“Wait those are dragon scales? Dad really was raised by a dragon Nashi!” Igneel exclaims.

“Oh no what if he comes and eats us?” Nashi asks and hugs her brother in fear.

“He’s not gonna come and eat ya.” Natsu says sternly.

“Even if he wanted to he couldn’t. He died years before you two were born, protecting your mom and the rest of the guild from Acnologia.” Natsu says and stares at the fire.

Lucy reached forward and held his hand to comfort him and Natsu squeezed it in response.

“Mom does that mean you met Igneel?” Nashi asks.

“Well I saw him fighting but I never got the chance to talk to him before Acnologia struck him down.” Lucy says.

“I wish I could’ve introduced you to him Luce. He would’ve loved you.” Natsu says and smiles at her.

“He probably would have just confused me with Anna.” Lucy guesses.

“Did he want to eat Anna too?” Nashi asks.

“What no never! He was friends with Anna, she used to be a teacher for me, Sting, Rogue, Wendy and Gajeel.” Natsu explains.

“Igneel was a good dragon, he’d never eat anyone. I don’t know why you kids are on about that.” Natsu says.

“Because that’s what the books say daddy, and mommy and aunt Levy say that books are always right!” Nashi says.

“Oh so it’s you and Levy’s fault that our kids think Igneel was a killer?” Natsu asks Lucy.

“Hey don’t blame me I didn’t write the books!” Lucy retorts.

“Come on Iggy let’s go up to mommy’s writing room, I’ll read you the books!” Nashi says.

“Okay!” Igneel agrees and follows his big sister up the stairs.

Lucy smiles as the two of them ran up the stairs to her study before turning back to her husband who seemed sad.

“Natsu don’t be so worried. They’re kids, they’ll believe anything they read or hear is the truth.” Lucy explains.

“Then why won’t they believe me when I tell them the truth about Igneel?” Natsu asks.

“I don’t know.” Lucy says.

“I don’t want my kids growing up thinking that Igneel was some sort of terrifying monster when he wasn’t.” Natsu says.

“I’m sure they won’t. They’ll believe you one day.” Lucy says.

“How do you know that? It’s not like they can meet Igneel to see for themselves.” Natsu says and sighs.

Lucy got a thoughtful look on her face and rubbed one of the scales on Natsu’s scarf.

“But it’s not like I can bring him back to life, as awesome as it would be for him to spend Christmas with us.” Natsu says.

“So let’s just enjoy the Holiday as a family.” Natsu says and kisses the top of her head.

“Yeah, a night together as a family is always a good way to spend the Holiday.” Lucy says as she discreetly plucks a scale from the scarf and pockets it for later.

-----------

Later that night while the kids were fast asleep, Lucy came into their room and gently whispered to them to wake them up.

“Mommy why are you waking us up?” Nashi asks with a small yawn.

“Is it Christmas morning already?” Igneel asks and rubs his eye.

“Not yet. But I want you guys to come outside with me and aunt Wendy. We have a surprise for you and your father.” Lucy says.

After rallying her kids and her husband to get them to come outside they came to find Wendy and Carla outside of a huge fire in their yard.

“What are the two of you doing here?” Natsu asks, rubbing his eye.

“We’re here to use a special spell that Wendy knows how to do, to bring someone here for the Holiday’s.” Carla says.

“Who are you trying to bring home?” Nashi asks.

“You’ll see Nashi.” Lucy says.

Natsu gives her a curious look then watches as Wendy throws something small and white into the fire and then kneels in the snow with her hands pressed together and a magic circle begins to glow underneath her.

Suddenly, the flames shoot high into the sky and they hear a dragon’s roar.

“What was that?” Igneel asks timidly and shuffles closer to his sister.

A giant, red scaly arm comes out of the flames and smacks down in the snow. Natsu’s eyes widened.

“No way is that…” He stammers.

The rest of the beast emerges from the flames and lets out a loud roar.

“Igneel…” Natsu whispers as tears form in his eyes.

The kids and Happy scream and both of them run to hide behind Lucy.

“Mommy aunt Wendy summoned the killer dragon!” Nashi wails.

“Tell daddy to kill it before it eats us all!” Igneel screams.

“He’s not going to eat us.” Lucy tells her kids.

“I asked Wendy to use a special spell that uses just one of his dragon scales to bring him back for one night so that you kids can meet him and see that he’s not the monster you read about in those books.” Lucy explains and waves Wendy off as she leaves with Carla.

Natsu noticed the hole in his scarf and smiled before coming over to his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

“Thank you Lucy. This is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.” Natsu says before kissing her deeply again.

“Well are you going to spend some time with your old man or are you just going to kiss your mate all night?” Igneel the dragon chuckles.

“If I had it my way I’d do both.” Natsu says before going over to Igneel.

“Dad be careful!” Nashi calls to him.

“Relax Nashi, he’s not going to eat your father.” Lucy reassures her.

“So you took my advice and looked forward to the future.” Igneel says looking from Natsu to his family.

“I did dad, this is my family.” Natsu says and gestures to them.

“I know son. I’ve been watching over you, and seeing you grow stronger and find love made me so happy.” Igneel says.

“And now they can all finally meet you!” Natsu exclaims happily.

“Kids come on over and meet your grandpa!”

Natsu holds out his arms to his kids who were still hiding behind Lucy. She coaxes them out and gently nudges them forward towards Natsu and Igneel. They timidly walked forward to stand in front of the dragon and Igneel tilted his head and looked at them curiously.

“Dad, these are my kids, Nashi and Igneel. Kids this is your grandpa Igneel.” Natsu introduces.

Igneel exhaled a hot breath onto their faces and both of the kids gasped then giggled.

“That tickled my nose!” Nashi says then sneezes and a small fireball came out of her mouth.

“Your daughter takes after you I see.” Igneel chuckles. “That takes me back to when you use to sneeze up fireballs.” He reminds Natsu.

“Yeah, those were the days.” Natsu says.

“I take it you two have never seen a dragon before?” Igneel asks the kids and they shake their heads no.

“Well now what do you think of your grandfather?” He asks them.

“I still think you’re kinda scary-looking, but you’re also a lot nicer than I thought you were!” Nashi says and gently reaches out to rub his nose.

Igneel chuckled and gently bit the back of Nashi’s coat and lifted her up into the air. He tossed her and she laughed as she went flying into the air while Lucy watched with worry.

“Be careful!” Lucy warns before Igneel catches her again and sets her down on the ground.

“Do me next grandpa!” Her son requests.

Igneel heeds his request and does the same to his grandson.

“You have the same laugh as your father.” Igneel notices.

“You even look at lot like him too. The only difference is that your hair is a different color. I’m assuming he gets that from you.” Igneel says and looks at Lucy.

She and Happy walked forward towards Igneel and Natsu wrapped an arm around her waist while Happy hung onto his shoulder.

“Igneel, this is my wife Lucy and my best pal Happy. Lucy, Happy, this is my dad Igneel.” Natsu introduces.

“Hello Igneel, it’s nice to meet you.” Lucy says.

“Aye Sir!” Happy says.

“Hello talking blue cat, I always found you very strange.” Igneel says and Happy looks offended.

“And Lucy, you resemble your ancestor Anna very much. No wonder Natsu ended up falling for you. He did like Anna a lot when she was his teacher.” Igneel laughs.

“First Gajeel now you, what the hell does that mean?” Natsu asks.

Igneel sighs and looks at Lucy.

“How he somehow managed to realize his love for you is something short of a miracle.” Igneel says and Lucy laughs while Natsu looks offended.

“But when my spirit resided inside of Natsu I felt his feelings for you change as I watched your relationship grow. I knew that if any woman was ever going to have his heart that it would be you, and it looks like I was right.” Igneel says.

“So you like her dad?” Natsu asks.

"I think she's great Natsu. She’s beautiful, smart, and at this point she probably knows you better than you know yourself." Igneel says and grins.

“I love her more than anything dad. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve her, and I don’t think I could ever live without her.” Natsu says and kisses the top of her head.

“If Igneel’s gonna be here for the whole night, does that mean we’re gonna stay up all night to celebrate Christmas with him?” Happy asks.

“You bet we are!” Natsu says.

“Yay!” The kids cheer.

“What should we do first?” Lucy asks.

“Well, the skies seem pretty clear tonight…” Igneel says and looks up in the sky before looking at his grandkids.

“Do you kids want to know what it’s like to ride a dragon?” He asks and their faces light up in excitement.

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

“Everyone hang on!” Igneel calls to them as he swoops up into the sky over the forest.

Natsu, and his son hung onto Igneel’s back while Lucy and Nashi wrapped their arms around Natsu’s waist and held on tight. Happy hung onto Natsu’s shoulder for dear life until Igneel straightened out and he could relax.

Nashi and Igneel looked amazed by the view of the sky.

Natsu looked over his shoulder to see Lucy’s reaction but she still had her face buried in his scarf while clinging to him for dear life.

“Relax Luce, and look at the stars.” Natsu tells her.

He lifts her chin up and she gasps as she sees all of the stars sparkling all around them.

“It’s so beautiful from up here.” She says.

“Whoa Nashi look you can touch a cloud!” Igneel says and reaches out with his hand to touch a faint cloud wisp.

“Why don’t you try to catch that one up there Iggy?” Natsu suggests and tosses his son up into the air before catching him again.

Together they flew across Hargeon bay and then mountains. And then they flew across Magnolia, creating quite a stir for the residents that were still awake, thinking that this dragon sighting must be some sort of Christmas miracle, which it was.

Back at home they played games until the kids were tired, and then Lucy and Happy put them to bed so that Natsu could have some time alone with his dad before the sun rose.

When Natsu came back after Igneel was gone there were tears streaming down his cheeks. Lucy hugged him and he buried his face in her neck and held her waist.

“What did he say to you before the spell wore off?” Lucy asks.

“He said that he’s so happy that he could spend a night with his family. He loves you, Happy and the kids Lucy, and he’s gonna watch over us for the rest of our lives because seeing us together is what heaven is for him. Being able to spend Christmas Eve with us as a family made him the happiest he’s ever been and it made me so happy too that he could be with us again even if it was just for one night. I always wanted him to meet you all, and being able to have him do that was the best way to spend Christmas, thank you so much for getting Wendy to bring him back so he could meet the family I was able to have because of him.” Natsu sniffles.

“Merry Christmas Natsu. I love you.” Lucy says softly while she teared up.

“Merry Christmas Luce, I love you too.” He says before planting a wet kiss on his wife’s lips.

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

A/N: Merry Christmas to all of my followers who celebrate! And to those who don’t Happy Holidays! And don’t forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed this fic! 

[binkyisonline]

- My Baby Does Me -

Finally I can publish the translation made by @painkiller80 of my os Deacury with fem!Fred. Hope you like it!

Pairing: Melina Mercury x John Deacon

___*___*___*___*___*___*___

John has to make up for a lot of things, first of all, the way he ran away in the middle of the new album’s recording session, leaving the band with a simple note on his bass guitar in the recording studio.

This is why Melina finds herself, for two days now, enjoying his company, in a wonderful private villa with the best view in Bali.

John showed up days ago at London’s studios, back from his escapade, with a simple white envelope and two first-class flight tickets. Melina was the only one there, ready to let out one of her best outburst he had ever seen, but after seeing him again, so beautiful and relaxed, desperately seeking an apology, all she could do was to accept to spend few days together.

To hell with Brian and Roger.

She knows exactly why she cannot be seriously angry with the man, among the four of them, John is the one who, the most, needs his personal space and even if he chose to show it childishly, she can’t blame him.

Her pride still strongly raging inside her, she’s the leader and a strong woman despite all, but she finds impossible to resist him, she loves him too much.

Once discarded her own façade, Melina decides to treat herself with this impromptu holiday. She deserves it as anyone else, she deserves to be pampered in one of the best resort on the island, and she deserved all the attention of her own bass-player.

The sunset hides behind the palm-trees while a light sea breeze moves their branches, its light follows the outline of the reef that contains a little private beach; the fine white sand slowly turning cold giving a sweet soft feeling under her feet. She wore her best bikini, a black high-cut little number with a tight top that covers the bare minimum, her purpose is clear; she wants to be absolutely suggestive and flirty but just for John’s eyes.

Her deep black hair is styled in soft curls, still slightly damp from the recent showers, like the rest of her sun-kissed body.

She wears a bit of makeup, kajal to emphasize her cat-like eyes, plump lips with just a touch of gloss to make them shiny and needy and a little gold necklace, long enough to sit at the top of her plunging neckline, just like a little and innocent bait.

Melina walks slowly, swinging her hips, to the center of their beach where a king-size canopy bed is. She literally throws herself in the middle of it and adjust herself slowly, just like a cat that waits for her master, sinking her head between the fresh clean pillows; clearly aware on how to pose in the exact moment she heard footstep behind her, eyeing John’s profile on her right when he appears a few moments later.

He’s breathtaking,

His skin lightly tanned it glows in the afternoon sun and makes him so much inviting even if he wears a simple short-sleeves shirt and pale shorts; Melina regrets his choice to cut his beautiful curls though

The echo of his perm slightly remains on the short hair. He seems more mature, a man although still younger than her, she finds him dominant but in a sweetly gentle way.

John has a quite charming gaze that already makes her feel like a helpless prey while carrying a welcomed surprise, two whiskey glasses and the best Tequila around, just fresh from the fridge because Melina could clearly see few little drops of moisture on the bottom.

He smiles at her, a sincere and childish smile, one of his bests and eyes her.

- Hello, kitten – he says stepping up on the wooden platform first and then on the bed, approaching her on his knees. She offers him a lingering smile, enjoying those little chest hair that appears from the slightly unbuttoned shirt.

- I should be still very angry with you, you know? – she murmurs, feigning offence, turning her head away from him but letting the other continue to enjoy the view of her body. Soon a pair of fingers graze her chin, making her face him, his sweet eyes eats her up slowly. He lightly strokes one of her cheek with his fingertip still saying anything; just watching her like it was the most valuable treasure he ever found, totally in awe of her beauty.

John kisses her slowly, caressing her lips with his, she extends her neck a bit to deepen the contact, open her mouth to let, even for a bit, him slip his tongue inside. It feels fresh, suddenly that light touch cause a hot shiver that goes straight in her lower abdomen.

When they break apart, john’s eyes burning with such an intense passion that she could feel her blood boil. She smiles and places her hand to caress the portion of bare chest and John inhale deeply at that.

- Now I understand why you ran away..- She said while looking briefly at the landscape before her – it’s a dream. The perfect dream-

Melina closes her eyes for a moment when John’s hand creeps into her hair, lightly scratching the skin.

- Never as much as this bikini, God! Mel ..you’re..- He stops himself trying to find the right words. So she decides to take advantage of the situation stretching and lifting her arms above her head holding the pillow, making her breast brushing against John’s body. He sighs deeply and a light growl escapes from his throat, the hand that was in her hair now rest on her hip.

- I am…what?- she murmurs letting him enjoy the view, bringing her face close to his neck just to leave a quick wet peck near his Adam’s apple and watches him swallow nervously, she giggles, proud to make such effect on him.

When she returns flat back on the mattress, the bassist’s hand tightens his grip a little on her hip absently sliding under her bikini bottom.

- Stunning – he whispers with a grin, stepping away just to take the two glasses.

Melina purrs like a cat while lifting herself up and leaning on her elbows, taking one of the glasses filled now with tequila.

When she swallows the first sip, she squints and curl her nose, making the other giggle.

She didn’t have to ask for another round since the glass is promptly refilled, and she raises an eyebrow amused.

She has a quite fun idea in her head now and John notice that.

He tilts his head on the side, settling better next to her, so he can almost intertwine his legs with hers.

Melina let a light chuckle, searching for cuddles that soon follows. She bares her neck to him letting his hand drove slowly on the hot skin and down to the side of her left breast.

- What’s on your mind, little kitty? – He asks, while she still smiles seductively at him, firmly holding the glass in her hand.

- Oh..you know..- She starts, biting her own lower lip – there are better ways to drink such an expensive tequila… - deliberately hanging on her words - like this one…-

John frowns a little, and she finds it adorable when he does that, watching him thinking and failing to understand what she’s talking about.

- A hint… – he asks then – maybe? – watching her expectantly.

The singer then points at her décolletage with a nod of her chin whilst allusively looking at him. She playfully rolls her eyes when he still doesn’t get it, so she points again the same spot but now with her own glass.

The bassist seems to finally understand and accidentally sucking in a breath, then parting a little his mouth in a smirk.

- Seriously? – he giggles, suddenly stopping and let out a little whimper when he sees Melina pouring all of her glass content on his breast.

On the other end, she shivers a little when the cold hits her hot skin making her nipples instantly hardening against her top. Putting on a little show, she closes her eyes, moaning softly and biting on her lower lip.

When she looks back at him, she has her best smile on, white teeth stand out between her plump lips.

- Seriously – Melina answers in a low voice, looking directly at John still speechless by her bold move. A lustful gaze in her eyes.

But soon she finds herself cheerful chuckling when her beloved’s mouth is on her chest, following all the little drops, licking, sucking and biting slowly her golden skin.

She lewdly sighs when he starts to squeeze one of her boobs in his hand, taking the soaked pendant between his teeth; she moans louder at the sight, his lips slightly parted and shiny. When he let go of it he goes back to explore her skin inch by inch, promptly shutting her up when he moves up to devour her lips, leaving her a trembling mess when he presses his body closer to hers. When they break apart with a wet pop, John focuses on her chest again, biting slowly on her neck.

- Squeeze your boobs together, love.– he sternly orders, blowing cold air on a fresh hickey; she didn’t need to be told twice and forcibly grab her breast pushing it towards the center forming a little cup, making her necklace disappear. John takes advantage of the situation, grab the liquor and pour a generous amount on her, careful to soak completely her bikini top too.

Melina lay her head against the pillow when John crashes his mouth on her chest to lavishly drink all that amber juice, moving quickly to the little swollen nipples pressed against the fabric, biting and sucking over the thin layer.

- D-Deaky – she stutters, now at the mercy of pleasurable shivers, feeling them flow between her legs, her bikini bottoms already ruined. John, on the other hand, keeps on teasing relentlessly on that exact spot, burying his nose in that soft, firm and perfect flesh of her breast. When he stops his sweet torture on the left one, Melina could see a tiny string of saliva that hangs off John’s lower lip, he immediately focuses on the needy other.

- Johnny – she whines, starting to rub her thighs together – c’mon..John – she moans louder, clearly turned on when she feels more tequila poured on her, this time on her abdomen, she could feel the liquid run down and slowly ooze on the sides of her narrow waist.

John slips towards her navel starting to lick it down, making her giggle at first. However, that dies down in the very instant when he slowly spread her legs putting himself in the middle of them. She’s so damn wet and it’s all his fault.

When he looks up to her, Melina’s breath hitches, and she doesn’t dare to speak, she’s just waiting for the next move; the bassist barely smirk while he tugs on her panties, sliding them down on her sides and off completely. She has no shame on obediently open her legs more while stares at him fiercely she realizes that she still squeezing her breasts involuntarily pinching on her nipples. She feels so warm it’s almost unbearable; John still stare at her, probably thinking on what to do next, but let her watch meanwhile his shirt flies on the floor next to her bottoms and can hear her holding her breath.

- You’re so…beautiful – she sighs, making him slightly blush in an instant, in contrast with appearance, now much more masculine than when they met.

He still is and always be her little Deaky.

That brief moment of tenderness dies down when John drinks the last sip of tequila in his glass, without swallowing it. Melina tries to say something, anything but words dies in her throat when she feels the bassist’s mouth against her pussy and the cool of the alcohol hit her clit.

She throws her head back, opening her legs more, if possible and enjoying every single lick and bite on her wet cunt, going crazy for that sweet torture. John mutters against hers, his nose deep in the thick dark hairs and his tongue rhythmically works on her outer labia.

She’s losing her mind, pushing her heels on the mattress and slowly lifting her hips towards that wonderful mouth more, but the bassist’s hands forcefully keeping her down at the mercy of his attack.

- J-John..God!..John..ah! – She cries desperately in need for more contact, moaning loudly when John working deep in her and a finger goes on her clit.

When both mouths clash on a new and hungry kiss, Melina can taste herself on his tongue, the faint taste of the Tequila mixed with the sweet taste of her juices make her collapse completely.

- Am I forgiven? – John quickly asks, still breathless, caressing her face lightly damp with sweat, pushing her hair away from her neck to leave a small bite; Melina arches a bit, pressing her breast against his, feeling the hint of chest hairs, and she rolls her eyes in pleasure.

- Oh…y-you should ..try more…for that – she affirms, trying to regain control over her body, failing miserably, her muscles still trembling and her voice weak. But she manages to slide a hand between their bodies and grand his crotch, his erection painfully hard, ready to be freed – You have to work harder than that to have my forgiveness –

John grins before lightly biting her on her chin, it doesn’t take long before they are completely naked against each other, Melina’s skimpy bikini bra now rests next to the bassist’s shirt and pants on the floor.

- You know I love you, Mel, more than my life.. – He whispers almost without breath against the singer’s neck when he slowly sinks inside her.

- I know stupid,..i..- she says weakly -..know –

She clings with both hands on his shoulders, feeling his muscles vigorously move under her fingertips.

- Forgive me, love - He rasps, making her smiles uncontrollably while she closes her eyes.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, now fully sheathed into her, and start to quicken his pace, gripping on her hips while his forehead rests on hers.

- Mel...fuck...i missed you- He whines, propping himself on his knees and taking one of her legs on his shoulder; the position allows him to go deeper.

- John...oh...- She mumbles, almost unable to speak, letting herself go completely at the mercy of her sweet boy who, now, worship her body like she is some kind of pagan goddess.

She had missed him too.

They continue to make love and to make up on the lost time while the sun dies behind the shore, and the light breeze of the night caress their sweaty bodies.

[theoceanswaves0]

Better Behavior

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748896

Inspired by “Chris Master”. Basically, a fic where Chat Noir gets called out by Santa for his behavior towards Ladybug. The true Christmas gift we all deserve.

Ol’ Saint Nick doesn’t have any children of his own, but he can relate to parents when it comes to how difficult it can be to disciplining kids. No one actually likes to punish a child or see them upset, but it’s in their best interest to learn right from wrong. And still, there are plenty of parents that fail to do so and allow their child’s worst behaviors to completely take over, even into adult life.

And so, despite his involvement in regularly saving Paris from akuma attacks, it is with a heavy heart that he finds himself waiting on the Eiffel Tower for Chat Noir to arrive.

He doesn’t normally send gifts ahead of time, but he had no other choice but to deliver a letter to the cat themed hero. What Chat Noir needed wasn’t a gift that could be wrapped up and left under the tree, nor placed in a stocking.

On some other occasion, he might have found Chat’s lit up, shocked face endearing, even letting out a hearty laugh. Instead, he nods and forces a smile of acknowledgement as the young boy starts jumping in glee.

“Santa! Is that really you?”

“Yes, Chat Noir,” he says, “Merry Christmas.”

He allows for a moment for the boy to completely freak out before completely calming down. In spite of what he has to say, he can’t help but find the fact that a fourteen year old boy gushing over him amusing.

It makes what he has to say more difficult.

“So, did you need help with something?” he asks, “Need your sleigh pulled? Or, did you come here to tell me that my behavior’s been good enough to be put at the top of the list?”

He says that last part so quickly, Santa almost misses it. But he sighs when he realizes it. This doesn’t go unnoticed and Chat Noir slumps over with a silent “oh”.

“That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you tonight. Not that I want to lecture you, but there have been some things you’ve done or said that haven’t been brought to the attention of the adults in your life. And honestly, that’s unacceptable.”

"What do you mean? I mean, I've been purr-fectly well-behaved haven't I?" He asks with a pout that would put any five year old to shame.

Santa has seen sad pout after sad pout before, and while others in his life would fall for it, he is far wiser than that.

"Take this seriously, Chat Noir. This isn't a matter if you were the best or worst child. Rather, this is a matter of you needing to do better."

Chat's expression falters for a bit, looking away. He's by far one of the better behaved children born into wealth, at least in recent memory, but he can tell that Adrien isn't used to criticism or lectures like this.

"Because I'm never good enough, am I? Even when I try to be myself, everyone would rather I stop and just be perfect."

“That’s not what this is about, and you know it,” Santa retorts. He can feel the urge to glare the boy down creeping into his face, but he fights it. “You are by no means perfect, as a civilian or superhero. But being well-behaved isn’t about being perfect anyway.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s true that you want to avoid making decisions that hurt people. But what’s more important is realizing your mistakes, apologizing to the ones you’ve hurt, and learning from the experience. A process which we call self-actualization,” he pauses for a moment. He can tell Chat Noir is no longer interested in the conversation, averting his gaze toward his mansion. He’s trying to think of an excuse to write this conversation off as a dream gone wrong or as holiday blues.

He can’t afford to lose quite yet.

“Tell me, how did you feel when Ladybug didn’t show up for that date you set up?”

Chat Noir mumbles his answer. It’s pretty obvious what he’s saying, but Santa demands, “Say it louder.”

“Upset,” he groans, “Angry, frustrated… heartbroken. Alone.”

“Disappointed too, correct? Well, have you stopped to realize that you’ve disappointed someone in your life too? On the same day, even?”

The twitch doesn’t go unnoticed. It takes Chat Noir a moment, but slowly, he turns his head around to ask, “What are you talking about?”

“While you were busy setting up for a date that your lady said she wouldn’t be able to make,” he says, whilst clicking his tongue, “Your friend was hoping that you would be able to get ice cream with her, and practically shriveled up upon hearing that your father was keeping you. Yet that didn’t stop you from creating atmosphere on the rooftop, did it?”

Chat Noir averts his gaze, as he studies his feet. He can make out the slightest gape of his mouth, as if this news was supposed to be shocking. “Are you talking about Marinette?”

“Correct. It seems that when you went to visit her that night, you never asked her what was bothering her or offered help the same way she did for you.”

“But that was when Glaciator-”

“Attacked. Fair enough, I suppose. I suppose it’s also fair that you were upset when Ladybug suggested that you pretend to be a couple. It made you uncomfortable, correct?”

He nods, starting to smile again. Surely, Chat thinks, Santa will start to lighten up on him, right?

“But how about the way you’ve made Ladybug feel? The number of times you’ve tried to kiss her when she clearly wasn’t into it? Or the way you threw a fit in your battles against Glaciator and Frozer simply because she doesn’t feel the same way about you?”

He has the nerve to huff about this. It’s not surprising to see that this is still a sore subject of discussion. With his mother disappearing, his father being a controlling recluse, and the only real adult figures being present in his life either being too hands-off or emotionally closed off, being further denied meaningful affection would make a teenage boy a bit on edge.

But if he really believed that justified his actions, then there was more that Chat Noir needed to learn before being ready for a relationship.

He remembers back when he was young, how his future wife initially rejected him and how cruel he had been to her because of it. It took years and quite some dedication to change his attitude, but it was only when he apologized and respected her thoughts that she began to notice him. It’s a bit painful to see this young boy stir up such memories within him.

The snow begins to fall a bit heavier, and the sky is grayer than ever. It’s rather fitting for the wind to be howling at him as Chat Noir glares at him. He knows better that the superhero wouldn’t attack him,

“Didn’t you say that her friendship is the best gift of all?” He twitches at this, and Santa has to fight back a triumphant smile. “Because if so, you should really start acting like it. Start trusting her like she trusts you. Don’t lie to her or condescend to her. You can disagree with her without disrespecting her, and if you can’t learn how to do that, then it’ll only be a matter of time before she moves on to someone that can do all of that.”

He sighs, looking up at the sky. Already, he’s used up so much time on this lecture. There are too many gleeful children sleeping away, waiting for him to deliver their presents. Christmas is supposed to be a time of cheer and joy, and he knows there’s nothing joyful about the speech he just gave to Chat Noir.

“Do you think I’m a bad person, Santa?” Chat asks quietly.

Santa allows himself to smile this time. “Of course not. But you’ve been so blind to your flaws, Chat Noir. I think it’s about time you open your eyes and learn how to do better,” he clears his throat, “I’ll be checking in on you in a year. I hope that next Christmas, you’ll have taken what I said to heart. That would be the best present you could give me.”

The reindeer pull up to the roof, and he climbs onto his sled. The cat hero has already left the roof, no doubt, to return to his room and brood for the rest of the evening.

Perhaps the lecture will go in and out of Chat’s ears. Maybe he’ll just see the words as meaningless and condescending. But at least someone has said something now, and there’s a chance of him learning to curb his own behavior.

“Merry Christmas, Chat Noir.”

[genevievesurrender]

Night Parade

I wrote a short story today. I'm going to post it here just in case anyone is interested in reading it.

Night parade.

    Pepper, the cat, curled up at the foot of the bed.  The lights were out, the door was closed and his purring was soft while he fell asleep over Gwendolyn's toes.  Outside, the light drizzle could be heard on the trees, and the ocean in the distance rocked to and fro, lazily lapping at the sand.  Everything was dark. Everything was quietly whispering, as to make sure not to wake the sleeping village.

    At the beginning of the dirt path that lead to the sleepy house with a thatched roof and dozing cat, was a normally bustling bazaar.  Trinkets of silver and bronze, pots and pans, chickens, goats, pigs, brightly colored fruits, succulent vegetables, woven baskets, carpets, boldly patterened cloths hung off every availible space, made the wooden stalls look as though they would burst and crumble.  The noise of livestock and children and patrons haggling for their necessary wares drowned out the sound of the lazy sea that relaxed twenty feet below the corner. But now, even that, too, was abandoned for the day and sleeping along the cliffs, above the black colored sea.

    Back in the room -- with the neatly folded sleeping cat -- Gwendolyn's eyes were wide open.  All she could see was the dark. All she could hear was the patter of rain on the window and Pepper's incessant purr.  Her breathing slowed as she tried to calm herself.

    "There's nothing in the dark," her mother's words were of little comfort when all she could think of was what could possibly be watching her while she slept.  Could it be a person? Could it be a wild animal? The island didn't have any bears or troublesome predators. Even the pigs were tame. What if a giant wave came and washed everyone away?  Do big spiders sleep when it's dark and quiet or do they look for victims when they're the most vulnerable?

    "I don't know who's there, but leave me alone!" Gwendolyn whispered loudly to her window.  Pepper, startled, shifted to a different position, yawned, stretched, and fell back asleep.  Eventually Gwendolyn would exhaust herself with all of these thoughts and doze off. Typically it would take a couple hours, but tonight after the rain stopped, she heard what she thought was laughter, far away, past the bazaar stalls, past the rocky cliff, and out toward the sea.

    Silence again and an hour passed.  A few drips from the roof splashed into a puddle.  The ocean yawned and exhaled in the distance. A purring cat.  Silence. Gwendolyn fell asleep. She dreamed sweet things of her family and of upcoming holidays where she would get to see relatives from far away.  They always brought her gifts and candies. It was a good dream.

    Drums played in the distance.  Gwendolyn stirred. It was still dark out her window.  She could hear drumbeats from the shore. They were quiet, but she knew what she was hearing, and if there were people out this late, maybe the darkness wasn't so scary.  She fell back asleep and the night turned into day without any further incident. She was tired, but it wasn't a busy day and she could smell her mother baking breakfast in the kitchen while her stomach growled.  The silence was over.

    Pepper the cat curled up on the nightstand.  The lights were out, and Gwendolyn's eyes were wide open again.  Who was out at the beach last night? She forgot to ask her mother.  No rain that day meant the insects were free to sing to each other after the sun dipped below the mountain to the west.  Crickets and cicadas were comfortable companions, in Gwendolyn's opinion. If they weren't disturbed from gleefully singing through the night, then she wouldn't be disturbed.  That night, she fell asleep quickly. There was something comforting about people actively enjoying the nighttime, and the night before was proof of their existence.

    The following night also passed uneventfully.  That evening her mother made a goose meat pie, which happened to be Gwendolyn's favorite meal.  The summertime meant there was plenty of food and plenty of work and wages to buy goodies at the bazaar.  There was no reason not to sleep comfortably in the sticky evenings, cooled by the ocean breezes.

    A few nights later she heard it again.  Just after the rain cleared and the moon peeked it's face out from a calm, celestial mist, drumbeats started at the shore.  Gwendolyn smiled to know there were people enjoying the darkness. There was nothing to be afraid of. She closed her eyes and dozed off.

    The drumbeats stopped.  An eerie howling started in the distance.  She had never heard anything like it. Quiet at first, like water hitting a hot pan, a steamy sizzling sound arose, but without the warmth of the fire below it.  It was a frigid sound. Louder, it grew, with a gutteral human moaning beneath. The drums started again, but the moaning howl refued to stop. It only grew louder as Gwendolyn's heart started to beat faster.  Was the sound growing closer, or was it just growing louder? A shrill shriek cut through the dark shadows of the trees and suddenly the moonbeams disappeared behind a black cloud. All noise stopped. The nighttime seemed thicker and blacker than ever before.  Gwendolyn didn't sleep. Pepper was under the bed. The crickets started singing after an hour. Gwendolyn never closed her eyes.

    "We can leave a candle lit, but it won't last more than an hour.  Do you think you could be asleep by then?" Gwendolyn's mother cooed in a soothing voice.  Gwendolyn nodded, even though the tears in her eyes betrayed her lie. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and silently commended her bravery.  The door to the hallway stayed open all night. There were no sounds outside except the rolling whisper of the ocean and a single cricket somewhere in the trees.

    Her mother didn't hear anything the night of the shriek.  Neither did her friends at the bazaar, or the little boy nextdoor.  She seemed to pique the interest of an old woman that ran the egg stall.  The egg stall woman wasn't friendly. Nobody spoke to her beyond buying their eggs for the week.  She had a foul odor to her, like rotting flesh and chicken dung. The smell was likely because of her teeth that had rotted away, except for a few molars and half of one front tooth.  Nobody ever asked if she had any family. Gwendolyn knew nothing about her except that her mother would always hurriedly slink away after they shopped her goods, muttering something about poor health and how she must be a witch.

    Witches were not anything to be afraid of.  It was just a name given to old women that lived alone and never had any children.  The assumption was that if nobody wanted to be near a woman for her whole life, then there must be something horrible about her in private.  To the villagers, this kind of logic couldn't be disputed. Gossip was usually hushed judgement, side eyes and knowning glances. With such little space between them on this side of the mountain, a person could never be too careful about what they said aloud.

    Another cricket joined the solitary chorus outside the window.  Gwendolyn worried that now people would think she was crazy. It must have just been a nightmare.  At least, that's what her mother said to worried parents at the bazaar after Gwendolyn tried to pry information out of anyone that lived near the shore.  Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe she should try to get some sleep before the candle went out. She closed her eyes and the crickets didn't stop singing. The patter of rain started on the window.  Gwendolyn was asleep.

    She decided she didn't need the candle anymore.  Over a month had passed without incident and the crickets slowly quieted one by one as they fell asleep for the winter, fizzling out night after night until only the sounds of the ocean were left.  The days were turning colder and there were more fish in the bazaar. The ocean breeze felt colder too. Autumn was in full swing and the bazaar was more crowded than usual with people buying containers to preserve the last of the year's harvest.  Winter was never dangerous or frigid, but the days were shorter and it wasn't as easy to grow crops. People needed to be careful to not become too comfortable. A generation earlier there was a terrible famine after the winter. It had not been forgotten yet, so people rationed themselves to meager portions in the winter.  Many children died the year of the famine and half of the livestock went with them, causing lasting shortages for almost a decade.

    Gwendolyn's mother kissed her on the forehead and closed the door on her way out of the bedroom.  Pepper was sleeping in the open window. The temperature outside was comfortable enough to sleep under the stars, like many children did at this time of year, but Gwendolyn didn't dare step outside after sunset.  The ocean never ceased to calm Gwendolyn, with its constant companionship. It was predictable.

    She heard a splash.  She heard another splash.  Pepper picked her head up and looked out into the darkness.  Gwendolyn's eyes were wide open again. The sea wasn't especially close to hear fish or any other activity happening at the shore.  Another splash, quieter this time. Pepper put her head down. Gwendolyn sighed and after a few more minutes of the ocean's heavy breathing, she closed her eyes and started to doze off again.

    Splash.  Her eyes opened.  This was outside her window.  Pepper was no longer sleeping on the sill.  Gwendolyn froze, her heart beating as she stared into the moonlight through the open window.  Silence. Waves. A bullfrog croaked so loudly she nearly fell off her bed. Waves. Nothing.

    She closed her eyes again after her heartrate slowed and that's when it started: drumbeats from the shore.  She kept her eyes shut tight and covered her head with the blanket. They stopped after a while, but now Gwendolyn was too alert to sleep.  She stayed under the blanket until the sun came up over the ocean, throuh her window, giving her the all-clear.

    "You're going to have to stop this before you never sleep again." Gwendolyn's mother said, much more sternly than Gwendolyn would have liked.  The children at the bazaar wouldn't play with her anymore. All she talked about were the drums from the ocean. The only interest she managed to stir up from her odd stories was from the egg witch, but before the witch could say anything to Gwendolyn, her mother snatched her up and took her home, telling her to leave the poor old woman alone.

    "Stories shouldn't be used to frighten the elderly."  Gwendolyn was punished with having to scrub all the floors in the house before bed.  That night she could hear thunder from over the mountain. The autumn brought heavy rains some years, many times full of lightning.  It was always safest to stay indoors in case a flood barreled down from the mountain, but the rains were warmer than the air, which made them wholely pleasant to play in.  There were no crickets, but the ocean sounded angrier than usual in the wake of the thunder. That night it poured.

    When the rains stopped, Gwendolyn could hear it again.  A quiet hissing, drumbeats, a growing moan from the shore.  She covered her head. The moaning quieted while the drumbeats remained steady.  Though tonight, something made them sound sad. She never thought a percussive instrument could convey emotion, but tonight there was a melancholy in the air.  Gwendolyn had enough of this.

    She put on a pair of socks and climbed out the window, thunder quietly rolling out to sea, ushering her toward the shore.  She couldn't see anything, but she padded her way toward the fence and found the gate leading beyond their garden. Her socks were wet and she thought to herself that this was a poorly thought out plan.  Her heart was racing, but once she could see the culprits she would know once and for all it was nothing to be afraid of. Or, she could have some kind of proof who it was, to point them out at the bazaar later that week.  Whatever happened, her determination of curiosity outweighed her outright terror that sunk her heart with every muddy footstep.

    The drums were so loud.  She could see a flicker of light from a fire coming over the cliff thad lead to the beach.  Gwendolyn passed the empty egg stall, the carpet stall, the silks and jewelry, all packed away for the night.  Her eyes had adjusted enough to see her way without stepping on any sharp rocks. A bush to the left of the cliffs would probably give her enough cover to remain unnoticed by the deviants playing on the shore.  On her hands and knees she crawled into the thicket, thorns tugging at her nightgown. This was a poorly thought out plan. The bush snatched one of her socks on a branch. She kept crawling until she could see the fire on the shore.

    Figures danced around the flames, silently, with only the sound of drums, played by another figure, sitting in the waves.  A couple of them had torches and in the middle of the fire was a tiny pot, bubbling with some sweet smelling herbal concoction.  Gwendolyn was only thirty feet away from the skinny figures, but she was at least a story above them. They wouldn't notice her. Through the shadows cast by the torches some of them carried, she could see that these people were very slender.  So slender that they looked like they could use a good goose meat pie. Then she noticed it. These figures were made of bones!

    Skeletons!  Some tall, some small, some without arms, one without a leg.  The one in the ocean playing the drum had waves crashing through his ribcage.  They were dirty, and their eyes were missing. Some had kelp and other seaweeds draped over their slender shoulders.  Their jaws clattered when they hopped up and down while dancing. The sounds of bones against bones chilled Gwendolyn's own skeleton, almost so much that she could feel it trying to squirm out of her body.  She silently gasped, pushed herself away from underneath the bush, tearing her night clothes almost off her body. The drums stopped and she ran. She ran as fast as she could through the mud and didn't look behind her until she reached the gate to her house.  On a glance she saw nothing. She heard nothing.

    She threw herself back through her open window and collapsed underneath it, sobbing into the clean floorboards, now speckled with mud and tears.  After she caught her breath she tore into her mother's room, sobbing her way through her muddy fingers, her mother watching her, horrified at how dirty her daughter was.  Gwendolyn had trouble trying to explain what she saw through the gasps of her crying. Speaking was laborous and she felt as though the wind were knocked out of her.

    Her mother held her against her chest and caressed her head.

    "Shush, my girl.  Shush. It's okay.  There are no monsters here."  Her mother didn't know how to stomach this story.  Gwendolyn was obviously outside the house since she was caked in mud.  This wasn't a nightmare, but there was no way it was the truth. What had her daughter seen?  Was she sleepwalking?

    The next night, her mother pet Gwendolyn's hair as she sung her a soothing song about birds and spring flowers.  They had a busy day going to see the doctor down the street. All he had to say was that children as young as Gwendolyn tend to have overactive imaginations.  This didn't exaclty soothe her mother's nerves, but he suggested that she keep the window closed at night, in case Gwendolyn had started sleepwalking. The entire conversation happened in Gwendolyn's presence, but the two adults were acting like Gwendolyn was a ghost, only able to observe, ignored when she tried to interject with cries of, "but it was true!"  "I saw it!" "It was real!"

    Her mother left the door ajar and a candle lit in the hall.  Pepper slept on the nightstand, purring along to the quiet roll of ocean waves.  It rained heavilly again that night, but there were no drumbeats. There were no drumbeats for a few weeks.

    The children at the bazaar didn't want to be around Gwendolyn at all.  They pointed at her and called her names. They said she was becoming a witch and they could see hair growing out of her ears.  Gwendolyn touched her earlobes and teared up at the thought of becoming old and having all her teeth fall out, but she knew what she saw and wouldn't pretend like she had seen anything else.

    The Egg Witch motioned for Gwendolyn to come around the side of her stall.  Her mother hadn't seen this silent exchange, and Gwendolyn slipped past her mother's gaze while she browsed gold and orange cloths hanging from a beam.

    "I hear you saw the night parade." The Egg Witch sputtered through a gaping mouth.  Gwendolyn winced and nodded, wanting to cover her nose from the stench, but she needn't be rude to the only person who seemed to humor her story.

    "What is the night parade?" Gwendolyn asked.

    "Some nights the dead come to collect their newest members.  On nights that are wet enough to not dry out their bones, the skeletons will try to lure spirits to their party."

    Gwendolyn looked at the Egg Witch skeptically.  How could she know such a thing if nobody else had even took her story seriously?  Why would these answers be so readily availible? Even through her own skepticism, Gwendolyn absorbed this information to her core.  She had validation, albiet strange, supernatural validation. She had to see the night parade again. Gwendolyn ran off to her mother after thanking the Egg Witch, but while she tried to quietly retreat the Witch fired off a warning, which Gwendolyn didn't hear.  She was too excited and scared to know that she wasn't a liar, or a sleepwalker, or a crazy person. The skeletons were real.

    Rain.  Mud. Drumbeats.  She heard them again.  This time they were not at the shore.  They were closer and they sounded like they were moving.  Gwendolyn snuck into the front room and looked out the window above the kitchen cabinets.  There was a dim flicker of light over the hedges and she could see the skinny shadows of figures between the leaves.  She could smell the herbal scent of that bubbling pot. She could hear their jaws clacking together as they moved. Gwendolyn froze, waiting for the parade to pass, and then she snuck out the kitchen door, sloshing through the mud, this time without socks.

    Clacking, hissing and moaning, the parade quietly ambled down the street.  The drumbeats always sounded like they were in the distance no matter how close she approached the tail of the parade.  The skeletons never looked behind them, but she didn't want to risk them noticing her trailing along. Where were they going?  Occasoinally she would duck behind a stone fence or a bush, especially when they would turn a corner.

    They stopped in the middle of the street.  One of the skeletons carrying the small bubbling pot started to shake.  It vibrated so much that the liquid inside the tiny cauldron splashed into the mud, sizzling as it landed.  The skeleton's head faced the sky and it opened it's mouth wider than she had even seen a snake's, and the other skeletons dropped to their knees.  Out came the most horrible, metal crushing, glass scratching shriek that Gwendolyn had ever heard and it forced her to stop in her tracks, unable to move or hide from the possibility of them noticing her.

    From behind someone pulled her into the mud, dark and shadowed behind a stone wall.  Chattering teeth started again and the night parade quietly continued into the darkness, off the road and back toward the shore.  Gwendolyn could smell the familiar scent of rotting teeth and chicken dung. The Egg Witch was breathing heavily and her long grey hair fell about her face.

    "What are you doing, child!" she whispered, much louder than she probably intended.  "You're going to get taken away into the night! You'll never see your family again!"

    "I don't know!" Gwendolyn cried, broken from the spell.  "I don't know why I'm out here. I needed to see them again.  I needed to know what they were doing, where they were going."  Gwendolyn sobbed into the chest of the Egg Witch, not caring that this stranger smelled like rancid flesh and livestock.  The Egg Witch was the only one who knew the reality of Gwendolyn's life. She cried into her until the Egg Witch covered Gwendolyn's mouth with a wrinkled, arthritic hand.

    "Quiet child, they're coming back."  The Egg Witch hushed.

    Chatter, Splash, Splash, Chatter.  The night parade came up the path, heading back toward the sleeping bazaar.  Gwendoyn and the Egg Witch watched from behind the wall, tears blurring Gwendolyn's vision.  After they passed, they saw him: a young man in his twenties. Sleepily ambling along behind the parade, unaware of his surroundings and wearing his night clothes.  They headed back toward the cliffs. There was a moaning, a hissing and a shriek. Then it started to rain again. The Egg Witch hurried Gwendolyn home and pushed her back through her kitchen door.

    Gwendolyn tried to hide her wet clothes and put on a fresh nightgown.  Her mother didn't notice in the washing that there was a bit of fresh mud on the hem of her night clothes.  EIther that or she ignored it, hoping that her daughter hadn't been out again at night. Denial is the safest route for the mental health of a worried mother.

    The following day, there had been talk around the town that a young man had been killed the night before when he fell into a well on his property.  They didn't know why he had been out, but the villagers suspected that he had been trying to let in his dog for the night when he slipped and broke his neck on the way down.  He died instantly. Gwendolyn knew who the man she had seen the night before was. She had seen him parading down the street with the skeletons. How could they have found him back on his own property?  Maybe what she had seen was his spirit. She needed more information.

    A few months later, in the winter, she heard the parade.  She followed them to a small house on the edge of the village.  They went inside. One of the skeletons emerged holding an infant, gently and gingerly.  The skeleton silently cooed at the infant and tickled under its nose. The infant slept and the night parade chattered and splashed back toward the ocean, drumming their marching beat.  Gwendolyn returned home, finding her mother sitting up in the kitchen.

    "Where have you been?"

    "Nowhere, mother.  I just can't sleep." Gwendolyn only partially lied.

    "I don't even know how to punish you.  Don't go outside at night again. I want you safe, in this house."

    "But..."

    "Go to your room.  Shut the door. If I have to I'll buy a lock for it."  Her mother had the most distainful sound of disappointment dripping from the end of every sentence.

    Another month passed and Gwendolyn could hear the night parade again.  She ignored it this time, too scared of what her mother might do. She seemed to be getting punished almost daily for minor things.  She had to clean out the preservative chest after her mother had to repeat herself with a simple request. She was made to dust the curtains after she had torn one of her sandals.  Why was Gwendolyn always getting into trouble? It was too much to risk being caught outside again. She left the chattering and the splashing alone.

    When spring rolled around, Gwendolyn's mother had seemingly forgotten about punishments altogether.  She was chipper and sang songs around the house. One night she heard the parade again and decided it might be a safe time to follow them.  She could be quiet. Her mother wouldn't hear. Out the kitchen door, she stumbled into the mud, louder than she had hoped, and pattered down past the gate.  If her mother had heard, it was too late now, and off she went.

    The night parade was at the shore, setting logs aflame for their nighttime cauldren boiling.  Gwendolyn had only been there for a minute, when she heard someone crawl up beside her. She could smell who was approaching before she could see her.

    "Child, you need to listen to me, this is dangerous.  You shouldn't even be able to see them."

    "Shhh..." Gwendolyn tried to silence the Egg Witch.  They started rattling and vibrating and one of them opened their mouths to let out a blood boiling screech.  Now that Gwendolyn knew what to expect from this behavior, it didn't scare her the way it had before. She approached these skeletons like beasts behind a cage.  Their actions were predictable.

    A figure stepped up next to the bush.  Gwendolyn and the Egg Witch stopped breathing and froze, hoping the being wouldn't notice them under the thicket.  The figure inhaled deeply and the skeletons looked up the cliff at it.

    "No." The Egg Witch gasped under her breath as a woman in her mid-thirties outstretched her arms toward the sea, slowly leaning forward to tumble off the cliff into the waiting arms of the night parade.  Without hesitation, the Egg Witch grabbed the woman's nightgown and flung her toward the ground.

    "Get her home!" The Egg Witch shrieked, almost as loudly and horrifyingly as the skeletons themselves.  A horrifying clatter came from the beach with whoops and bones gnashing against each other. Gwendolyn looked at the writhing woman in the mud and saw her mother's face, twisted as if she were having a nightmare.  Somehow, Gwendolyn pushed her mother onto her knees and coaxed her into running home, even though her mother had not opened her eyes. They stumbled through the kitchen door and all Gwendolyn could hear was howling and splashing, then a shriek, and then silence.

    Gwendolyn's mother was chipper the next morning.  The night had passed without even an inkling of acknowledgement to any wrongdoing.  Gwendolyn offered to do the laundry, but her mother insisted, unflinching at the mud caked onto both of their nightgowns.  They went to the bazaar while the white sun blazed through the blue sky and across the expansive sea. Her mother offered to make a goose pie that evening.  When they approached the egg stall, a young man sat in the place of the old witch. Gwendolyn's mother asked him where she was, and he told her that his aunt died the night before in her bed of natural causes.  She was very old, but prefered the company of chickens over her nieces and nephews. He did not seem overly upset and neither did her mother, but Gwendolyn felt a prickle at the back of her throat.

    She ate only half of her serving of goose pie that night.  She never heard the drumbeats from the shore again.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

L’appel du Vide

Chapter 7

Title: L’appel du Vide

Pairing: Michael Langdon X OC

Rating: M overall, M & NSFW this part. TW for choking, mild rough sex, & perhaps the barest hint of consensual non-consent?

Warnings: Language, smut, blood.

Language: English

Chapter Length: 1.9 K words

Summary: After learning who Michael really is, Cordelia appeals to an ancient figure for help. Slow-burn seduction ensues. Contains spoilers for AHS: Apocalypse.

Author’s Note: Happy holidays everyone! 

This chapter slots right into the last half of “Sojourn.” Gets a bit smutty. Hope you enjoy. 

On a rooftop in Paris, between the night air and a new lover, she feels him calling out to her.

It’s barely there. A weak ringing in her ears. Competing with the traffic below and heady breathing against her neck.

Her name painted on Michael's lips. Someone's talking…

They don’t become old wives’ tales for just any old reason.

She takes her lover deeper as the ringing gets louder.

When she comes it's the only thing she hears.

Michael had ventured into the woods to find himself.

Or at least that’s what he told the warlocks. And he supposed a part of himself needed to be grounded. He wanted to speak to his father more than anything. But he also wanted to escape from those dimly-lit halls. That golden light.

The way it glinted off of her cheekbones.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night. The way her hair felt twined in his fingers. The way her body moved under him.

He had wandered through the mist of it, reveling in the way the dew clung to him.

But now, with his beloved Ms. Mead lost to Cordelia's pyre, he staggered through dry California brush. Aimless.

Calling out to his father.

To Lilith.

To anyone who would understand.

She finds him, days later, laid up in a chic Silicon Valley hotel.

Michael catches her reflection in a backlit mirror and immediately sinks to his knees.

Anguished words spill out with hot tears.

In the absence of a mother, she hopes a lover will suffice.

She takes his face between her hands, kissing at the tears that have dripped down his cheeks. She whispers words in his ear that fall short of a spell, and yet they're enough to quiet his pained heart.

A hand finds purchase in the wet gold of his hair. Michael takes her lips between his as he fits his hand between her legs. Searching for comfort on the cold marble of the bathroom floor.

He slips his fingers inside her, coaxing out words in a tongue he's never heard. 

His mouth searches hers for language. He wants desperately to learn.

His other hand skitters, broad against her back, holding her against him when he sinks inside.

Lilith’s fingers take the pain when he slams his head back against the countertop.

Her name sent up like a prayer when he comes.

God isn't listening.

But she is.

He tells her of his plans as they lay warm in white sheets. Tells her of the two men who can help him. How once Meade's back, he can't be stopped.

She doesn't question him. Instead running cold fingers over the warm shell of his ear. Over the brands just behind it.

There's something about his naiveté that's endearing. His dogged pursuit of a mission for which he never asked.

She finds it curious that he's never asked for her help.

Not that she would render it unto him.

A warning from his father perhaps.

One well given.

And part of her is disappointed. This is Samael's big plan? Your only begotten son is lost in the desert, dear father.

Give him water—or I will.

She presses her lips to his to quiet his plans. To keep him frozen in time, here in her arms. There's a feeling hanging oppressive in the air. 

She's lived long enough to recognize it as the weight of disaster.

Michael pulls her on top of him, where her skin can flush warm against his. He sucks languidly on her lips and she can feel his cock growing hard against her inner thigh.

At seven thousand years, there's not much that catches her off-guard.

But the way her body responds to this man.

This boy.

Who's rubbing his cock against the useless cotton of her panties.

Who draws a moan from her mouth as he ruts against her.

"I wanna be inside you," he murmurs against her mouth.

She decides to tease.

Take back some iota of control.

"Oh?"

What else, Michael? She sends the question arcing across his synapses.

"Wanna make you come."

"If I recall correctly," she leans her head into the hand that grips her hair and moves to cradle her face, "you did. Not long ago."

"Again," he growls.

He feels her teeth against his palm when she grins.

He roughly takes her chin between his fingers, punctuating the action with a thrust that sends his cock rubbing against her clit.

"You're adorable," she taunts, propping her hips up just enough to break contact.

His cock twitches impatiently as he skims his nose across her collarbone.

"Don't make me take it from you," he whispers a faux threat against her neck.

"I'd like to see you try."

"Ohh, Lilith," he purrs, tone deliciously condescending.

He makes a move to flip her over but she's stronger than him by far.

Blue eyes fly wide with impish desire.

He calls upon his magic, tendrils of it stroking her skin. She arches into the shiver that runs up her spine.

But it's not enough to distract her. Lilith laces her fingers through his, pinning his arms down above his head. Michael bucks his hips again, searching out her heat. But she's manifested magic of her own.

It strokes over his ribs and across his chest to tease his nipples.

"Fuck."

She laughs.

His power runs over her lips, causing her to trace its path with her tongue. She notes the way his eyes track the action.

Choke me flits across his mind.

Oh, you precious thing.

She takes his throat in both hands, fingers deftly applying targeted pressure. She goes after his carotid arteries, feeling the way his heart jumps as the flow of blood to his brain slows.

There are perks to being afflicted with her disease.

Intimate familiarity with the way life rushes through veins.

He arches below her, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"You're not trying," she whispers.

One big palm fits against the curve of her neck, thumb stroking over the tendons there.

His other hand molds to her hipbone, scrambling to restore sordid friction.

She grins and holds his neck tighter.

Michael arches his hips up, attempting to throw her off balance, but she holds fast, taking pleasure in the shade of red that paints his flushed face and chest.

His brain is beginning to fog. It's thrilling.

Synapses fire in mild panic. Coherent thought begins to fade. But the animal drive in the back of his brain only registers one manic, desperate thought.

The scorching need to fuck.

To come.

He tries to roll over. One of her legs hooks around his, counter-balancing him.

He's strong, but not strong enough.

Michael starts to whisper as his fingers dig into her thighs.

She lets him cast the spell, out of interest. But she's never heard these words strung together quite like this before.

She expects for her muscles to go weak. Or perhaps to be paralyzed.

She doesn't expect the orgasm that racks her body with such bliss that she immediately lets him go.

Michael doesn't waste a second, instantly flipping them over and slipping himself inside of her, Lilith's muscles still tight from pleasure. She arches into him as he thrusts, wrapping one leg around his hip, fingers skittering over the muscles of his back.

"Does that feel good?" He whispers as she presses her head back into the pillow.

But the waves of ecstasy still coursing through her have stolen her words.

Lilith runs a hand up his chest and again wraps her fingers around his neck, digging in. A drawn-out moan escapes his lips and he pounds into her harder.

"Oh God, Lilith…"

The expression surprises even him.

Irony isn't lost on her.

The closest you’ll ever get is right here. 

Sins have always been phenomenally satisfying.

She releases his throat and he shows his disapproval by stilling his hips.

Lilith writhes under him, desperate for more, but Michael holds fast.

So instead, she reaches up—her palm landing hard across his face.

The moan that escapes his mouth nearly makes her come again.

Michael's cheek screams an angry red as his lips crash against hers, hips finding a pace that would have knocked the breath from her lungs had she needed it.

"Michael," she cries against his mouth.

"Again," is his only demand.

She's all too happy to oblige.

She strikes his cheek and he screams, slamming into her as he finds his release. She clenches around him again with a curse on her lips, fingers wound in blonde curls.

Lilith feels the strength leave his muscles when he comes, reveling in the sensation of his weight on top of her.

She allows it for a few minutes before the heat he radiates becomes too much to bear. Michael senses her discomfort and rolls to the side, chest heaving, cheeks ruddied from exertion.

He manages enough coordination to slip a languid tongue past her lips before pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

"You win," he whispers.

She smiles.

She always wins.

An hour later he stumbles from the bed, his body still succumbing to basic human urges. She waits to hear the flush of the toilet and the running of the sink before she sneaks up behind him, glossy, black-polished nails trailing up his sides.

She presses her lips against his shoulder blade as he braces himself against the counter. Her soft, bare flesh meets his back before she finds his gaze in the mirror.

"Where did you learn that spell?" Lilith whispers, fingers playing with the muscles of his back.

"I didn't," and the honesty in his eyes tells her it's true. "It just came to me."

From your father, she thinks.

She wraps her arms around his waist, nose nuzzling the base of his neck.

She understands now what it is about him.

His power.

The strength of it. Its volatility. The way he flirts with impossibility before blowing past it.

The way it surprises even him. 

The depths he has yet to explore.

"Were you scared?" Michael asks, watching a momentary furrow crease her brow.

"When you left Eden. Were you scared? When you abandoned your purpose?"

"No." Her answer was instantaneous. Conviction crystalized in steel grey eyes.

She slips around him, sitting up on the countertop as he stands between her legs. His fingers trace patterns into the skin of her thighs as he casts his gaze downward—ashamed of his question.

"I didn’t know fear then, my love," she takes his face in her hands, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "I knew what I wanted. To leave. When I walked through those gates, I did it with every ounce of my purpose," she holds Michael's gaze. 

Unflinching.

Her eyes tell him to do the same, but she won't say the words. She wants to speak straight to that boy tucked away in this man's heart. The one whose longing for love nearly paralyzes him.

But it’s not her place.

"I'm so lost," he whispers, on the verge of tears as he wraps his arms around her.

She strokes his hair as her heart shatters for this prized pawn in a father's cruel game.

Lilith wakes in the morning to a heavy heart.

Michael's gone.

Gone to Silicon Valley's best and brightest.

Gone to the new Ms. Mead.

Gone towards his purpose.

Gone away from her.

She sighs deeply, gathers her clothes, and absconds to her own corner of a soon-to-be decimated world.

@austonsmatts, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @istherealifeonmars@massivedonkeysoulfarm, @lokis-army-77​, @sodanova, @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx​, @halfmoon6748, @inplainlanguage​, @refined-by-fire, @onyxwinter, @whatssinaname, @frozenhuntress67​, @pastelandgrunge, @bihazainal 

[jimlingss]

Rent-a-Boyfriend™ Drabble

Read the original: Rent-a-Boyfriend™ Read more at Service Series

Words: 1.7k Genre: Fluff. Lots of it.  I know this fic is a favourite amongst all of you and though I don’t have any ideas for an entire sequel, I hope this will suffice. 

You’re scared for your life.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic but you can’t call yourself over the top when Taehyung’s your boyfriend.

And recently you learnt how much he loves to celebrate holidays.

For New Years, he popped confetti the moment you walked through the door and you found your entire living room covered in balloons. When the clock struck twelve, he attacked and devoured you in kisses, claiming you his as you laughed - that was the best part. The worst part was that your entire ceiling was still covered in vibrant balloons and for the next few weeks, you live in utter fear. They would spontaneously pop one at a time; sometimes when you woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water and it’s pitch black outside. Sometimes a balloon would pop in the middle of your sleep and it never stopped scaring you shitless.

For Christmas, Taehyung set up three Christmas trees - one in the living room, in the bedroom and in the bathroom (you still don’t know why). When you came home, you found your apartment windows completely covered in icicles. You couldn’t even look outside and you found that he had turned down the thermostat to freezing temperatures. When you found the boy, he was in the kitchen with a humongous, boxy grin plastered on his face, caught in the act with a snow cone machine in his hand. He tried filling the floor with fake snow for you.

During the Winter solstice, Taehyung surprised you with five sweaters and two new blankets, wine and the television was playing a twenty four hour video of a crackling fireplace. He pushed your heating machine in front of the table and made you sit in front of it. But you couldn’t really complain when he was cuddling you the entire night.

Even for International Women’s Day, you came home from work to find more wine on the table, a new stock of pads next to a pitcher of red tomato juice and dozens upon dozens of cupcakes - which he confessed to almost burning down your place on the treacherous journey to make them. As if it wasn’t enough, he showed you a video that he had put together himself - a damn video of all your friends thanking you for being such an amazing woman. It was beyond embarrassing and you wondered how he forced them into participating.

And now...it’s your birthday. Great.

“Taehyung?!” You shout into your apartment, finding it oddly quiet and dark. Your back is pressed against the wall as you slowly tread in, carefully inspecting any corner he could jump out of to surprise you with confetti. “Babe?! Are you there?”

Socks tread softly on the floor and he slides into the living room with a grin. “You’re home?”

“Yeah…” You strip from your outerwear, eyeing him warily. “....are you okay?”

“Yup!” He stands tall, the same grin that you love glued on his lips. “How was work?”

“Good.” You answer back, still alert of the entire situation and how unsettling and...calm everything is. You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed. Though his extravagant celebrating ways is a bit too exhausting for you, you still appreciated every little thing that he put effort into.

But you’re still too suspicious to take a breath of relief.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” He smiles. “My little dumpling’s all grown up.”

You scrunch up your face, quickly leaving a kiss on his lips. “Don’t call me that.” He pouts, following you as you walk into the kitchen. “What’s this?”

There’s a white box on the counter, a sheer window that allows you to peek at the- “It’s a cake!” He hugs you from behind, arms wrapping around your shoulder and locking you into place. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.” You look up at him with a frown. “You didn’t make me any yourself?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ with his lips. “I got it from that bakery you like.”

“Oh.” You’re a bit surprised. You really expected the kitchen to be filled with confectionery baked goods, from cupcakes to muffins, all spelling your name in icing. You even expected him to stick candles in everything and make you blow them out until you would faint. It’s odd. Too strange.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask him, turning around as his hands clasp around your waist.

Taehyung purses his lips for a second, pausing before shaking his head. “Nope. But I do have a surprise for you!”

Your eyebrow lifts at him in wariness. “A surprise?”

“Nothing bad. You’ll really like it.”

“Did you get a job?”

“No silly. Why would I do that?” He grins at you, kissing you quickly and stealing away your chance to scoff at him. “Hold on. I’ll be back. Stay here.”

You obey, sitting down on a stool as you watch Taehyung disappear into your bedroom. It takes a long minute as you stare at the wall, tapping your foot impatiently and then there’s a crash.

“Are you okay?!” You shout at him in alarm, standing up and walking down the hallway.

“EVERYTHING IS FINE.” He screams back, a louder ruckus following and making you wince. “JUST STAY OUT THERE.”

“Okay, okay.” You back away from the closed door, beginning to nervously pace around the kitchen. What was going on?

“I’m back.” He returns a few seconds later with a wrapped up box. It looks fairly neatly done, candy cane wrapping from Christmas and a yellow bow planted on top of it. “It’s your present.”

“Hey...you got better.” You muse at his wrapping skills, a lot less horrendous than when you two were wrapping gifts for friends. He had gotten tape stuck to every object in your house, accidentally spilling glitter all over your floor and you had only calmed down when he tied you up with the ribbon and- okay..that’s enough of that memory.

You clear your throat, snapping out of your daze before you start blushing and you begin to unravel his present. He watches in anticipation, eyes flickering from the gift to your face. Within a few movements, you’ve uncovered the box to reveal your favourite wine. “Aw. Thanks, Tae.” You stand on your toes, plopping another fleeting kiss on his lips and he smiles.

“Am I the best boyfriend ever?”

“You are.” You smile, already moving to take out the wine glasses. “Ready to eat some cake and drink som-”

Meow.

The sound makes you freeze and you dart your head over to the bedroom. Taehyung’s eyes grow as wide as saucers, almost comically and his mouth drops open. You frown, looking back at your boyfriend who starts to fake innocence. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Taehyung.”

“I swear it’s nothing.”

You put down the bottle on the counter, crossing your arms while giving him an unimpressed expression. It’s as if you’re scolding a kindergartener and it takes one long glare before he breaks. “Fine. Fine. I just..it’s just-...I decided…”

Before he can find the right words, a chubby brown cat comes strolling into the kitchen. It’s head is held up high like it owns the place, tail flickering like its prestigious nobility. As it notices your stare, it hisses at you before jumping up onto the couch of the living room. “What. is. that?”

Taehyung sheepishly grins, a stiff bubble of laughter coming from his throat. “It’s a cat.”

“Is that the stray we saw the other day at the park?!” You’re gaping at him and he pouts at you, moving to pick up the animal. The chubby thing relaxes in his hands as he cradles it like a baby.

“Don’t call Y/N-ie a stray.”

“Oh my god. YOU NAMED IT?! AND AFTER ME?!”

“Well…” He smiles, nuzzling the cat to his cheek and it purrs with closed eyes. “I love you so much that I decided to name it after you. Isn’t she precious?”

“No. She is not.” You sigh out, an oncoming headache pounding at your temples. “Taehyung. We can’t keep this cat.”

“Why not? It can be the third member to our house!” He pouts at you, batting his eyelashes and giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes ever. You’re already feeling weak in your knees. Goddammit. This kid knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about her after we saw her at the park….I chased her down and then I brought her to the vet. She’s perfectly healthy and she has all her shots too! I already bought all the things she needs!”

“Oh my god…” You slap a hand to your forehead. “Taehyung!”

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m trying not to.”

“It’s your birthday gift.” He sets down the cat, moving to hug you again and you sigh in his warm arms. “Sorry I didn’t ask you first.” He murmurs in your ear and by the way you sigh once more, the both of you know that you’re defeated.

You bask in his warmth, returning his hug and after a long silence of the peace returning, he mischievously whispers in your ear, letting his hot breath graze against your skin in the way he knows you like it. “Are you jealous that I brought home another female? Are you afraid I won’t pay attention to you anymore?” He smirks when you shudder, even though his words are completely ridiculous. You curse your body for having such a reaction that’s already become instinctive.

“Shut up.”

Taehyung wastes no time in lifting you up in his arms as you yelp. He laughs playfully, making his way to the bedroom but then he quickly turns on his heels. “Don’t wait for us, Y/N-ie.” He addresses the brown cat the lazily settles on the carpet. “Me and this Y/N might take awhile.”

His laugh is contagious and you find yourself grinning at him. As he settles you on the mattress and climbs on top of you, you stop his attacking lips from devouring you in kisses. “You know we’re not going to actually name her Y/N-ie, right?”

He doesn’t answer you, moving your hand pressing against his mouth. “Right, Taehyung?….”

“Taehyung! Are you even listening?”

Your boyfriend ignores you again, smiling as he kisses your nose. He doesn’t give you any chance at all for the rest of the night to complain and really...you can’t even find it in you to complain.