#because it's fun to watch him gently flap his wings as you explore

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance Dual Style - Rising Wing

[rosileeduckie]

I believe the demon Crowley invented it

Which he does, on occasion, do on purpose.

Crowley makes up something special for a certain angel someone. So season two is a thing. I made a thing about Crowley making a thing because I needed more things. I hope you like the thing! :) No spoilers for new season, no worries

SFW. Potential warnings: none. Good Omens/Ineffable Husbands tickle fic.

Word count: 6,003

~*~

It took Crowley a while to want to fly again. To be expected, really; falling, cast from the heavens and plummeting to the depths amid a cacophony of agonized screaming and terrified wailing of the damned all plunging downward into jagged rock and sizzling sulfur–it wasn’t an experience he was eager to repeat. He kept to the ground for a while. Crawling, slithering, was much calmer. But one day, he caught a breeze. Sitting on a crag, sunning himself, the downy feathers of his large dark wings felt a cool gust and began to fluff up. He stretched out the limbs, welcoming the wind, and his long gossamer flight wings began to shiver as well. The wind whistled through him, beckoning him to stretch further, to go faster, to fall. And, with a deep breath and golden eyes wide, he fell. Tucked his wings tight against his back, feeling the wind batter him, rocketing down the mountainside–and then threw them open wide, like floodgates accepting rain, like garden gates accepting fire. He caught the wind, the wind caught him, and he was no longer falling but flying. The wind, the sky, embraced him, surrounded him, whipping through his long crimson hair and tousling it a thousand directions, pinning a hysterical smile to his cheeks, drying tears before they could fall from his eyes. Flapping, swooping, diving, soaring, Crowley shrieked in whooping laughter, utterly free. He wasn’t doomed to the depths; he was up, left, right, down, and everywhere. The sky was his to ride, the earth his to explore. He was alone, and he was free. 

He did a lot of flying after that. Still walked often, sure; humans and their antics were much easier to see from the ground. But his heart pounded loudest and brightest up in the atmosphere.

Speaking of heart pounding.

One day, as Crowley flew, he spotted a large white shape in a tree below him. He couldn’t say offhand where he was–it wasn’t like he often flew with a destination; as much of the world as there was, humans hadn’t filled it with all the fun stuff they would one day–but he could see plenty of empty open desert to catch him when he landed. So, he angled his flight downward, and, just for fun, somersaulted into the dry scrubland, loving the feeling of sand freckling his grinning cheeks and grass adorning his mussed hair. A hop, skip, and a jump, and he’d crossed the distance to the curious tree and was perched on a branch beside its familiar inhabitant.

“Hey, angel.”

“Hello, Crawly,” said Aziraphale. Prim and polite as ever, albeit looking painfully bored. The angel’s eyes were wandering the fuzzy desert horizon, hands folded in the lap of his obscenely white robes which billowed gently around his crossed ankles, which swayed subconsciously back and forth. His wings were folded at his back, appearing tight and stiff from disuse. Crowley counted back in his head how long it had been since their paths had crossed and wondered how much of that time Aziraphale had been made to spend as a tree ornament.

“Crowley,” the demon corrected, feeling antsy just watching Aziraphale sit so still and so standing up on his branch, which creaked protestingly against the first real new movement in a while, and reaching up to ruffle the foliage with his fingers.

“Right,” Aziraphale said, furrowing his brow and shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. “Crowley. I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you here?”

Crowley’s fingers found purchase on a higher branch, and he gripped it tight, using it to swing himself up and around and hang upside down from the taller vantage point by his knees. His long curls hung down like a red willow, but his own black robes hugged dutifully to his corporal form. (Even if he didn’t have the human habit of shame, he wasn’t keen to let gravity have his clothes; the wind could get cold even in the desert). The blood rushing to his head made Aziraphale’s question not quite register right away, and Crowley blinked. What had brought him? He stretched out his onyx wings and flexed them demonstratively.

“Ah,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I mean, what are you doing?”

The demon stuck out his lower lip thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes. “Nothing?”

The angel tipped his head, brow furrowed. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“Just that, I guess. Flying quite a bit, having fun. Not like demons really have anything we’re meant to be doing, so.” Crowley curled forward, reaching up to his hanging branch and pulling himself upright before laying down on his stomach, resting his head on his arms to look down at the angel. “Yeah, whatever I want. Nothing.”

Aziraphale sputtered, and Crowley chuckled.

“’We have no time to waste, the Almighty has much work for us to do,’” said the demon in so impressive an impression of the head archangel that Aziraphale held a hand to his lips when a titter startled him by escaping. Crowley grinned. “Even if I’m not on God’s payroll anymore, time’s hardly wasted for us, is it? We’re not mortal; we don’t have a limited amount of time to get done all the things we should.” Crowley closed his eyes with a deep sigh. “So I’m doing none of them. Too much earth to enjoy to get busy with work.”

When Crowley slowly opened one eye, he saw Aziraphale turning his ring over on his little finger, white wings twitching and puffing out, subconsciously agitated.

"Could show you, if you want. Come fly with me, I'll take you on a tour."

"What!" In an instant, Aziraphale's wings went from anxiously fidgeting to defensively spread, puffed up and rigid and making him look much bigger and more threatening. Or, it would have, if he hadn't whipped his head around to look at Crowley with the biggest eyes and flapping mouth and reddening cheeks. He looked positively scandalized.

Crowley couldn't help it--he laughed, a hissing snickering sound that he buried in his arms. He noted Aziraphale's flush looked even darker when he lifted his head, but the thought didn't even occur that it could have been from something other than the words from his mouth.

"I- I- I-! I couldn't possibly--!!"

Couldn't possibly, Crowley sighed, hiding the way his smile began to fade by pressing his cheek into his forearm. Couldn't possibly be seen flittering about with a demon!

Aziraphale settled himself, clearing his throat and smoothing his ruffled feathers. "Couldn't possibly. Far too busy."

"With what?" Crowley scoffed, smiling again when Aziraphale's blush rebloomed. "Looked to me like you were doing as much nothing as I was." He pushed himself up, looking through the verdure to an empty desert. "Unless I'm mistaken, not much of a garden here for you to guard."

"Precisely, there isn't," said Aziraphale, visibly brightening, more confident, when Crowley furrowed his brow and opened his mouth in confusion. "Humans are free to roam about wherever they like now," Aziraphale explained, "even if they're harder to keep track of. And angels are tasked to give them inspiration and blessings."

"Yeah, but," Crowley said, reluctant to disagree when the angel had given so content and cute a wiggle in his seat, "doesn't look like there's many humans around for inspiring or blessing."

"No," Aziraphale relented, casting his gaze downward and fidgeting with his fingers. "Actually, there aren't many yet at all, certainly not enough for all us angels to keep busy, so I- I'm waiting for them to do their whole--" he scrunched up his nose and flapped his hands in front of him, “’go forth and multiply’ing… thing…”

“Uh-huh.” Crowley leaned to once side and then the other before tipping off his branch, catching himself one the perch with one elbow and swinging one leg up to hang from his knee. “And, while you’re waiting for that,” he said, tipping his head back to look at Aziraphale, “you could come fly with me to–”

“I most certainly could not.”

“You should,” Crowley countered. “If for nothing else, because you’ll get stiff just sitting there.”

Aziraphale gave his head a quick and resolute shake. “But I won’t.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “You won’t get stiff?”

“No,” Aziraphale huffed with an exasperated smile, “I won’t go flittering about. Angels aren’t meant to…” He trailed off, brow furrowed as he sought for words. Instead, he gave a shaky wave with his hands, as though that gesture wasn’t equally vague.

“Fly?” Crowley guessed.

Aziraphale gave another huff, part impatient and part amused. “Obviously. We, no, um… There’s a certain level of professionalism to…” He’d run out of words again. Crowley wondered if the Lord’s precious humans would be so kind as to one day make up a way for someone to communicate with their hands for beings like poor Aziraphale. (Probably would, clever things.) As it was, the angel said no more, but his inability to articulate in concert with his anxious hands and wide eyes spoke bounds.

Professionalism, hm? Ah. Crowley guessed again, words slow and eyebrows rising. “You’re not meant to have fun?”

At that, Aziraphale nodded, the tension in his shoulders and wings dropping, and a relieved smile gracing his cheeks. An answer, even one delivered so astonishedly as Crowley’s had been, evidently was enough to settle him. “Yes. Far too busy.”

“Let me get this straight.” Crowley unbent the two limbs suspending him from his branch, languidly loosing them so he could drop down sit beside Aziraphale on his lower branch. “Lord of all light and goodness,” he wiggled his fingers upward, “made all this world for you to serve and forbade you to enjoy any of it?”

“Not forbade, but serving does come first” Aziraphale replied, seeming only have just realized Crowley was now beside him. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in his lap. Crowley cocked his head curiously; no more hand-flapping or chin-wagging, then. The angel had let himself out of his box enough for one day.

“Well,” said Crowley, clapping his palms to his thighs and pushing off until he tipped backwards and into freefall. His wings caught him with practiced ease just beneath the tree’s canopy, but he definitely delighted in the angel’s startled jolting and almost reaching to try and catch him. “Have fun sitting in your nest.” He gave the angel a salute, then touched a finger to his head. “Or don’t have fun, I guess, whichever. I’ll be up there.” Crowley pointed upward, then snorted. “I mean, ‘up there’ like the sky, not ‘up there’ like– you know what I mean.”

The last he saw of Aziraphale before flying off was cherub cheeks glowing an embarrassed pink and hands all but anchored to his robed lap. Crowley’s wings beat fast and hard, arms thrown wide, and soon he was back amongst the cloud. Which way he’d been intending to go, he had no idea, so he hailed the first wind gale and let himself float along it. His thoughts, which usually wandered just as aimlessly as the winds, were stubbornly pointed downward and behind him.

Oh, an angel didn’t want to have fun, what a shocker. Let him sit in his tree, bored, all he wanted. Angel didn’t know what he was missing.

Crowley’s wind carried him to an ocean that would one day be called the Red Sea, passing him off to an air distinctly cooler and tasting of salt. Beneath him, the blue vastness stretched on toward the horizon, in no time at all swallowing up the desert he’d come from until he was flying over only sea. Ocean above, ocean below, even from so high up, he could see no end to either. Beautiful. Peaceful. Lonely.

The sighed Crowley exhaled was ocean-deep. Angel didn’t know what he was missing.

Banking hard, Crowley dove under and out of his wind current, flying lower and closer to the sea as he trekked back toward land. A spray-laden breeze spurred him on, carrying him like a leaf riding the rolling waves.

He couldn’t just pull the angel from his tree. Well. He could, of course, literally. But he couldn’t pull him from where he’d metaphorically rooted himself. Maybe there was a figurative middle ground at which to meet him.

Literal ground came into view, and Crowley slowed until he’d lighted on a beach. He stood there a moment, hands on his hips and lips pursed and wings stretching, thinking. Stewing. Any other angel, Crowley probably wouldn’t have been so stuck on. But Aziraphale wasn’t any other angel. He had a little devil in him, or he wouldn’t have talked with a devil in the first place. An angel’s stuffiness didn’t suit him; even if he was prim, it wasn’t like he’d had much chance to be anything else. To try anything else. He wanted to have fun; Crowley knew he did. Crowley watched the waves tumble onto the sands with thunderous yawns, listened to the gulls’ distant disgruntled cries as they squabbled over dinner. The ocean was just as vast from below. If only he could have Aziraphale standing next to him, get him to see all there was to see.

Something scuttled over his foot, and he brought his gaze down. A small crab, no bigger than his thumb, had elected that the risk of invading a demon’s personal space was worth the few seconds it’d safe on its journey. Crowley stepped back–obligingly, not because the creature had startled him; he was far scarier than a crab, thank you–and crouched down to watch the crab scurry on. The sand beneath them both was warm and deep, too, shifting beneath Crowley’s feet in miniscule landslides of grains too many to count. Crowley snickered; some poor angel had to have been saddled with the task to count sand and pour it out on the earth, he was sure. There were shells atop the sandy scape, too, and stones already being smoothed down from the waves’ crashing. Crowley picked up one of each, a pretty little brown spiral and a slate rock hewn quite flat. After a second of consideration, he reeled back his arm and tossed the stone out across the ocean, grinning when it jumped four times across the surface before sinking into the water. Like it was skipping. Snickering proudly, he scooped up another such stone and tucked it safely alongside the shell into one of the many folds of his robe. (Like gravity, the robe was willing to ignore space and mass to allow Crowley to carry more things. Very considerate.) He walked a few paces further, gathering up a small piece of driftwood, another rock with an interesting texture, and, deciding the risk of getting pinched was worth it, the crab. Then, back into the air, he went.

Time was still funny. After the big seven days at the beginning had been counted, the calendar had gotten a little messy. Humans would probably benefit from it, get a few more weeks or years or centuries in change from days not counted for the sun having forgotten to have been set. Maybe some angel would be appointed to sort that out eventually and keep time organized. As it was, Crowley didn’t know how long he’d been gone from Aziraphale’s tree. A few hours? A few days? It was easy to get lost up in the air and up in one’s thoughts. What he did know was that it had been long enough for Aziraphale to fall asleep.

Angels didn’t need to sleep. It had been a design feature. Too much to do. But, as Crowley clambered into the tree once more, he saw a blonde head tipped back, eyes closed and jaw relaxed.

“Hey, angel!” Crowley crowed and jabbed a finger into Aziraphale’s side, already grinning.

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open, and he jolted forward with a yelp, floundering with his wings to get his balance back while one hand gripped his branch and the other was pressed affrontedly to his heaving chest. When was no longer in danger of falling, Aziraphale’s focus shifted squarely to Crowley, all dagger-glares and flushed cheeks. Crowley couldn’t help laughing, which, he realized, was all too easy to do around Aziraphale. “Crowley! That was–! You startled me!”

With a shrug and lingering snickers, Crowley moved to Aziraphale’s perch, sitting down beside him. “Just helping you out, angel. You were working so hard before; would hate to see your higher-ups find you dozing.”

Whatever retort or further scolding Aziraphale had intended to give fizzled away in his flapping mouth. He pressed his lips tight together and turned his pink face away slightly, and Crowley wondered if he was trying to keep himself from coming up with an excuse or, God forbid, breathing a lie.

With a chuckle, Crowley reached into his robes, elbowing Aziraphale’s side as he did. “I’m just teasing. I wouldn’t want to see your higher-ups at all.” At that, the line of Aziraphale’s lip wobbled, the muscle of his cheek twitching like it ached to pull upward. Crowley’s grin was unabashed. “Anyway, hopefully this will make up for it.”

Aziraphale jumped when he found himself with hands full of small silly objects. “What’s this?” he asked, juggling them for a moment before laying the treasures in his lap. The offended crab stayed determinedly pinched to the hem of his sleeve, but the other trinkets spread out nicely upon the fabric his white robe in a flattering little display.

“Figured,” explained Crowley, holding a hand out to catch the crab when it eventually tired, “since angels are allergic to having fun and going to new places, it’d be a shame for you to not even see things from those places.” Moreso, it was its own temptation, but nothing Crowley had been instructed to do. He hoped that, if Aziraphale saw pretty little things from somewhere else, maybe he’d want to go there more than he’d want to do his nothing job. Maybe want to do nothing together. Maybe.

“Oh.” The angel’s gaze hadn’t left the little exhibit. His eyes wandered between the objects, and, slowly, he let his hand–the one not currently being clambered up by a crustacean–trail over them, tentative and featherlight. Gentle. Reverent. Crowley tore his own gaze from Aziraphale’s hands back to his face. The flustered blush had faded, and his eyes were as bright as Crowley had ever seen them, positively shining. “Thank you. I suppose.”

The verbal response was so detached from the visual one that Crowley snorted. Right, so, angels didn’t know how to receive gifts (albeit, admittedly, they were as new to the concept as any other earthling). Maybe that was enough of an excuse to give him more gifts.

"No one's ever given me-- ow." Aziraphale looked up from his treasures to the crab that had scaled his sleeve and delivered a disgruntled pinch to his arm. He smiled, regarding the little creature with eyes still bright. "No one's ever given me a crab. Excuse me, my fine little fellow?"

"Well, I wasn't planning repeats anyway, but definitely no crabs next time." Crowley jabbed at the crab with his finger. "Oi."

The crab promptly let go of Aziraphale to brandish both pincers at Crowley.

"Ow," he said when the crab latched onto his nail. "Fine, read you loud and clear, I'll give you a lift home." He tucked the little devil into his pockets and looked back to Aziraphale, who'd gone red again. "Don't look so terrified, angel. He's safe in there, you're safe out here."

Aziraphale's response was quiet. "Next time?"

"'Next--'?" Crowley's eyebrows furrowed, then rose to his hairline. 'Next time' that he brought the angel a gift. Well, he hadn't meant to speak that implication into the universe. Whoops. "Ahm, s-- so. You want to come with me to escort the little thing home?"

"I can't," Aziraphale sighed, but he was cradling the smooth stone and tracing it with his fingertips.

"Busy, right." Crowley scooted forward and off the branch, into the air. "Well, sleep tight."

Maybe not the best time to tease when the angel had a stone in his hand, but Crowley could get used to seeing Aziraphale blush before flying off.

He was still seeing red, and is was just as adorable, while he lay on his belly on the warm beach sand, fending off the little crab from pinching his nose with one hand.

"You were no help back there," Crowley told his tiny bloodthirsty foe, parrying away a jab with his index finger. Only after delivering a few nasty blows to Crowley’s knuckles and fingertips was the vengeful crab, at last, satisfied, scuttling off into the surf. Crowley mussed his hair with both hands before letting his head loll forward, resting his forehead on the sand and mindlessly scratching lines into the sand with his fingers.

Not a total failure of a plan, but not a complete success, either, with or without the aid of Captain Stabby. He hadn’t gotten the angel out of his nest, but at least he now had something to keep from being bored to sleep. Crowley wasn’t usually averse to giving up, but he could be pretty stubborn. And maybe he had a pretty big crush. But that wasn’t the point! Aziraphale was perhaps the only angel to speak to, let alone be kind to Crowley after his fall. He was too sweet a soul to deserve being benched from all of Earth’s joys for a few centuries just because he didn’t technically have work to do. Crowley couldn’t let him be stuck like that.

Resolved, Crowley lifted his head and determined to come up with another plan. Watching the waves crash and turn over, so he shuffled through the thoughts and ideas in his mind. Giving Aziraphale things hadn’t swayed him enough to move from his perch, even if those things had obviously delighted him. (More than obviously, but Crowley didn’t yet know how Aziraphale had carefully tucked all of the little beach treasures safely into his own pockets.) Perhaps, instead of showing the angel how much fun could be had somewhere else by collecting things from that somewhere, Crowley could make him feel that right where he was. Hard to replicate the feeling of being on a warm beach, soaking in the sun and listening to the sea, while in reality sitting in a gnarled old tree. A different feeling, perhaps. A different place. Crowley’s most favorite place was the sky; as an angel, Aziraphale would be well acquainted with how good flying could be. But how to make him feel that way from the ground? It wasn’t like he could collect bits of cloud and wind.

Crowley looked up at the clouds, following the bright white hilltops and grey flat plains with his eyes. No angel designed them or upkept them; the wind pulled and pushed and shaped them, taking them and making them to its whim. Like it took Crowley. From in their midst, clouds looked mostly like great pale curtains. From below, Crowley could almost see fluffy sheep and snowy mountaintops in their formless shapes. Chaos, random chance, channeled to make something substantial. Collecting hadn’t work to replicate feelings; why wouldn’t making something?

Demons loved making stuff. Creativity had been made to be a human trait, but demons, by principal, had the bad habit of doing things they weren’t supposed to. It was fun in so many ways. To come up with and then make something overcomplicated, accidentally brilliant, or absolute bullshit nonsense–and then to see what humans did with it. It was invigorating, cathartic, and hilarious.

What, what, what could Crowley make for his angel? It actually wasn’t too hard yet, to think up something unique, occupying such an early chapter of history. Still, he wanted it to be special. Moving. Figuratively and literally. What did he feel when flying, and how could he make that happen down here? How to ruffle an angel’s feathers without wind?

Crowley looked at the squiggling furrows his fingers had left in the sand. They had been made without intention, for the satisfying scraping sounds and gritty shifting texture as he thought. But, now, they gave him an idea. Hands could ruffle feathers, sure. He looked over his shoulder and reached back to give his own feathers an experimental ruffle. Yup, that could work. Like the waves crashing over one another, Crowley’s thoughts started to race, spurred as he looked backward. Hands ruffling feathers, fingers buried in sand, feet bare in soft grass. He thought of one human he’d seen poke another in the side and how the second had recoiled with a smile before they’d both gone back to fishing. He thought of how it felt when an itchy leave wriggled its way down his robe. He thought of how it felt when an angry little crab scittered across his skin. He thought of an angel’s beaming smile and bright eyes. He had many thoughts, but he had one idea. One idea for something absolutely nonsensical and extremely silly, and, when he eventually workshopped a name for it, he’d call it tickling.

But, one unnamed idea in hand, Crowley flew up from his sandy sunning spot and back in the direction of a now very familiar tree.

“I saw you coming this time,” Aziraphale declared when Crowley all but crashed into the tree with how fast he’d been flying.

Crowley scoffed, picking twigs from his crimson hair. “I would hope so, between how many eyes you have and how much noise I was made landing.”

Aziraphale set his eyes heavenward, as close as he seemed to get to rolling them.

“Why?” Crowley said as he sat down next to the angel. “Were you watching for me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come again,” Aziraphale admitted, cheeks going rosy and fingers worrying a small brown shell.

For a moment, Crowley’s heart beat loud and eager in his ears. He kept it. No time to be swept up in that thought, though; he was far too busy with the task at hand. Crowley cleared his throat and shrugged, moving to sit close enough to Aziraphale that their knees touched. “Had to. I had another gift for you.”

“Oh?” The angel’s eyes lit up excitedly, even as he tried to look professional. “From where this time?”

“From me. I made it up. For you.” Crowley stuck out his tongue and cursed his own ears for burning. “Ngk– I’ll show you.”

Before the angel could offer any turnabout teasing for Crowley being the one flushed and at a loss for words (because, Crowley just knew, there was enough devil in Aziraphale to absolutely turn the tables given the opportunity), Crowley thrust his hands beneath Aziraphale’s folded wings, wiggling his fingers to muss the feathers and scribble at the muscle beneath.

“Ah–!” Aziraphale yelped, his wings swinging out wide to escape the surely strange feeling. Crowley only targeted the space closer to Aziraphale’s shoulders instead. “What are you–?” Aziraphale tried to ask through laughter that seemed to be building and bubbling quite irresistibly from his chest, “What are you doing?”

“I’m tickling you,” Crowley explained, crawling his wiggling fingers from Aziraphale’s wings, down his shoulder blades and under his arms. “Not sure about the name yet, but I figured vessel nerves usual react for preservation. Why not make them react to something fun?”

Perhaps for preservation against this new attack, Aziraphale tried to lean back and away from Crowley, flapping his wings and batting at his hands. The tickling under his arms, though, had him curling up and laughing enough to mostly rob him of words once again. “This isn’t–!”

“This isn’t fun?” Crowley guessed, puffing out his lower lip. “Now, is that because it’s actually not fun, or because you, as an angel, could not possibly be having fun?”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale squealed, and Crowley grinned, downright devilish.

“I mean, if it’s not fun, why are you laughing? Laughing means you’re happy, yeah?” he teased, slipping his hands from under Aziraphale’s arms to set his dancing fingers loose upon his stomach.

Aziraphale was nearly horizontal, leaned so far away from Crowley and wings and hands flapping weakly. When Crowley’s next attack targeted his stomach, Aziraphale loosed a merry wail before tumbling into bright laughter that made the lines by his eyes crinkle happily and the breath in his throat catch wheezily. And oh, his laugh was perfect. All the pristine stuffy angel was gone, drowned out by the loud, head-thrown-back, wrinkled nose, toothy, shoulder-scrunching, belly-shaking laughter. It suited him.

Crowley had some mercy, switching from digging and scratching to poking and wiggling. “It is supposed to mean you’re happy, right?” he asked, for a moment concerned he might accidentally kill the angel. He certainly looked happy, and he hadn’t been doing much to push Crowley away, but… “I came up with tickling, but I’m not yet fully clear on…”

A still-giggling Aziraphale blinked through laughter-induced tears–tears were sad; had he become so happy, he was sad?–to look at Crowley, his gaze an odd but warm mix of fond and sympathetic and sweet and teasing and just losing the edge of hysterical. Just that look nearly bowled Crowley onto his back.

“Oh well!” Crowley exclaimed, a little too loudly. “I’ve got to perfect my new little game for you. And you,” he grinned as Aziraphale grew all the redder and scrunched his neck, “you just stop laughing if you stop being happy.”

Aziraphale didn’t stop laughing, but he didn’t stop squirming either. In fact, when Crowley set out to practice until perfect by testing other techniques to see what would tickle and started squeezing the soft spots of Aziraphale’s stomach and sides, the angel thrashed so exuberantly that he rolled right off the branch. Crowley followed, and, in a mess of feathers and flapping wings, the two tumbled from the tree and into the desert scrub grass.

With how much of a reaction squeezing had gotten, Crowley continued doing it, chasing Aziraphale’s laughter down along his thighs and behind his knees. With more ground on which to metaphorically stand, Aziraphale did put up a bit more of a fight, and Crowley was sure no one who pictured wrestling an angel would conjure that image. Of the angel with a wide smile beaming like the sun, of the demon getting the upper hand by jamming his thumbs into the angel’s hips until the later collapsed backward with a snorting cackle, of the adoration in the demon’s eyes as he tickled the angel apart piece by piece. Crowley rounded back, at last able to get one of Aziraphale’s wings pinned under his knee and burrowing the fingers of one hand into the wing pit and the fingers of the other into the soft stomach and vibrating both sets until the angel was wheezing.

Crowley had had about a dozen other ideas for this tickling thing once Aziraphale had actually been under his hands, but he had actually succeeded in getting Aziraphale from his tree, and he didn’t want to overwhelm with too much of his brilliant new idea. He pulled his hands back to a featherlight crawl, tracing the fair hair of Aziraphale’s forearms with the tips of his fingers and the tops of his feet with the tips of his black wings. The angel, thoroughly spent and thoroughly happy, lay giggling and content, hands twitching and stomach jumping but otherwise still. Eventually, all Crowley’s movement stopped as well, transfixed by the sight beneath him.

Here lay Aziraphale, opalescent wings thrown wide and with feathers mussed, perfect curled hair a tousled mess, hysterically happy smile stuck to his cheeks, tears drying on his cheeks, chest heaving from a belly full of screaming laughter. Crowley fell from on top of him, laying beside Aziraphale with a smile of his own. Perfect.

“That was fun,” Aziraphale said, eyes closed and smiling so gently that Crowley simply couldn’t bear to gloat just then. (He would eventually gloat. A lot. But not just then.)

“Yeah, it was.” Crowley lay beside Aziraphale, reveling in the validation of a successful plan and good idea, as well as the echoing angelic laughter still gracing his ears. He turned his head when Aziraphale pushed himself to sit up.

“Well, it will be a bit before humans fully populate the earth anyway.” Aziraphale stood, brushing off a bit of sand from his robes and producing the shell and a rock from them to make sure they had survived the fall, and holding out a hand to Crowley. “You can lead the way to that ocean you were so keen about, and you can tell me more about your creation. I haven’t ever laughed like that, have you?”

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and stood, shaking his head. “Just when I catch a really good breeze, but even then…”

“Ah. Well, I liked your gifts. Can I share this one?”

The demon was struck with the absurd image of angels dropping like flies around the old garden under the menace that would be Aziraphale the tickle angel. He snorted. “Sure, if you want.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale wiggled his shoulders happily and stretched out his wings. “I’d like to tickle you then, so you can laugh like that, and I can see it.”

Something in Crowley’s mind popped. Full of ideas as it had been minutes earlier, it was amazingly empty at Aziraphale’s proposal. With all the excitement the demon had had coming up with the idea and developing it, he had not once considered it being turned against him. Regifted. He was struck with another image, this time of himself, pinned under Aziraphale, at his mercy, laughing like flying. That image actually struck him as quite lovely, but it did also make his ears burn like hellfire. “Well!” Crowley said, kicking up off the ground and hovering a few feet above it. “One fun thing at a time. Ocean?”

Aziraphale nodded, smiled, and shot up into the air like a feathery stone shot by a sling. “Race you!”

“Hey!” Crowley laughed, chasing after him.

~*~

Crowley had come up with it, but Aziraphale had made it his own. And had inspired Crowley to coin the term ‘tickle monster.’

Such inspiration came to Crowley in an instance much like the one he found himself in at present: head tipped back against the cottage bedroom door, cheeks and chest aching from laughing, knees wobbly, so high and happy that the only thing keeping him from floating away was Aziraphale holding him (quite nicely after so evilly pinning him there earlier), stroking his fingertips along Crowley’s hips and sides, slow, featherlight, gentle, reverent.

“This may have been the best gift ever given,” Aziraphale chuckled, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s neck and leaning back with a proud wiggle.

Crowley lifted his arms, still a bit jelly-like, to wrap around Aziraphale’s shoulders, holding him close and keeping himself upright. “And it got me a hefty promotion way back when.”

Aziraphale laughed, “What?!”

“Yeah,” Crowley grinned, crooked and dizzy. “’Oh, Crowley, what an ingenious torture method, all the fun of hysteria with no marks left behind!’”

He let his head fall onto Aziraphale’s shoulder, giggling, as Aziraphale smothered his own laughter in his hand.

“But,” Crowley said, lifting his head but still too boneless to actually hold it up and so letting it thump back against the door, “you are by far more evil with it, so I may have taken credit where I was not due.”

“How rude,” Aziraphale tutted, giving Crowley a little scratch to one hip that had him crumpling sideways and squeaking. The angel caught him easily, supporting him around the waist and gently tickling his back to get him to purr and slump further into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Well, whatever the offices took it for, I am very grateful.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead and smiled. “Very happy with it.”

“Good,” Crowley mumbled, “because I didn’t keep the receipt.”

[gatitties]

Distractions

─ Strawhats, Heart Pirates & Kid Pirates x fem!reader

─ Summary: you are easily distracted by cute things

─ Warnings: none

(Whitebeard Pirates ver.)

They were all used to having a man who was lost even if he was led by the hand, but they did not expect to have a new partner who, despite having a good orientation, had attention similar to a fly.

In your defense, you had barely visited a couple of islands in your life and going out to sea to explore and have adventures with them made your mind turn off to focus on the wonderful things you saw, especially if they were adorable things, you could spend hours watching whatever seemed cute to your eyes.

"Where the hell is she? We said we'd sail in an hour."

"Huh!? I thought she was following me back here."

Sanji dropped the shopping bags, you decided to accompany before leaving that island, looking around to check that you weren't close to him as Nami had announced.

"Well, that's not the only problem…"

Ussop scratched the back of his neck, looking at something other than the eyes of the navigator who could kill anyone for not fulfilling the task of arriving at the established time, she looked at the sniper waiting for a quick answer from which he fled, letting his captain responded nonchalantly, with a giggle.

"I forgot to bring Zoro back!"

Luffy ended up getting beaten up, Robin reassured Nami by declaring that you'd be back soon and that Zoro would always find the ship in some mysterious way, if he's lucky he'd run into you and drag you along until you told him that wasn't the way to the port. Sure enough, the man found you in a random store, talking friendly with another guy, or rather, laughing with that villager's parrot. He clicked his tongue at the interaction approaching with great strides to make his presence known, you noticed immediately.

"Hey, Zoro, look at this, isn't this parrot super cute!? He can sing and even dance!"

The swordsman wanted to make fun of you, but he didn't have the heart to do so when he saw the sparkle in your eyes when you saw the bird do that silly thing of flapping his wings a little and singing a little melody, in a certain part he understood why you had been distracted, although not how this managed to occupy like two hours of your time.

"Yeah, it sounds great but hey… we have to go."

"Oh god, were you looking for me?"

"Yes, I was looking for you, you and the ship…"

He muttered the last part as you said goodbye to the man and the parrot that had taken up most of your time today, barely hearing what your partner said, you ended up grabbing his hand because no matter how you lead him, he always ends up going in the opposite direction, it also helped you not to get distracted by anything else since you had to pay attention that Zoro didn't get out of your grasp.

Nami greeted you with smoke coming out of her ears for taking an hour longer than expected, you apologized a thousand times and described how that parrot was the culprit of one of your many distractions, she couldn't do anything with you so she let it go and hearing you about how cute the animal was.

"Can we have a singing parrot?!"

Luffy joined the conversation proposing another of his ideas.

"No, that's what Brook is for, silly."

You banged his head gently and started arguing about why you shouldn't have a singing parrot on board, the others just watched in silence hoping it wouldn't last long because you always ended up arguing with Luffy about the most absurd things.

"Should we stop them?"

Franky looked at the two girls in the crew, normally they were the ones to end these situations, Robin nodded and grabbed Chopper along with a piece of meat, bringing them closer to you so that all discussion would separate.

"Meat!"

"Oh Chopper, you're prettier every day!"

"They are so easy to please, they look like children…"

They all shrugged at Jinbe's words, used to their childish captain and their clueless companion.

Law liked cute things, well, he was soft on cute things, so finding a partner who also liked those kinds of things made him a little happier, he could share certain likes with you and opinions on how cute was Bepo.

But sometimes your attitude irritated him, because you were so easily distracted by those same pretty things, every little thing had you in such a trance that at first he thought you suffered from attention deficit.

"Sachi, where is she? I told her that she needed help reorganizing some papers just five minutes ago."

"Ah, captain, she said she'd be here in a minute, she needed to use the bathroom."

He nodded patiently waiting in the room where you should have been originally, the problem was that you didn't take a minute, he got tired after fifteen waiting like an idiot for you to show up there, knowing your distracted nature he wondered what the hell had occupied your attention this time.

The closer he got to the common room he began to hear louder and louder voices, he watched from the corner as you hugged Bepo as if your life depended on him while Penguin pulled your body away from the polar bear.

"NOOOOO, I want to hug the most beautiful person in the submarine, let me goooo"

"The captain needs you, you can't cuddle with Bepo now."

The poor bear didn't want to make you feel bad if he pushed you away, but he didn't want you to keep his captain waiting either so he just stood there like a stone statue. Law sighed silently muttering 'room' and 'shambles' so that instead of your arms wrapping around the navigator, they were now on him. You locked eyes with the surgeon, your puppy dog ​​eyes kicking Law's heart and he looked away from you.

"I promise I'll do extra work but please…"

"No, we have to order now, that room is a disaster."

You clung closer to your captain hoping he would let you snuggle with Bepo a while longer, but pouting and rolling your eyes to no avail because Law knew you would use those weapons against him. You ended up reluctantly helping him by grumbling about how bad he was, the teasing from Sachi and Penguin didn't help but at least now they were cleaning up too for making fun of your misery.

When you were done you still had that adorable annoyed face that was starting to annoy your captain because he loved that damn expression, you weren't trying to look cute and you still managed it, you were annoyingly adorable in his eyes.

"Stop making that face."

"What face?"

"Stop acting like that."

"Like what?"

One day you were going to kill Law's poor heart, if you were angry and you gave tenderness, when you had that expression of not having a clue about anything, you could drive him crazy, but he would never let that side of him come to light.

"It doesn't matter, you have permission to leave."

Completely forgetting your annoyed mood, your expression took a complete turn of emotions, you didn't have time to run out the door to hug Bepo as hard as possible, but before reaching the room where he was you turned around to hug Law, also forgetting the small punishment for making him wait.

"Thank you captain, I love you very much!"

You disappeared like a bolt almost running over Penguin on the way so you could have your cuddling session with the polar bear. Without worrying about the words that had left Law on the verge of a tachycardia.

The Kid Pirates were celebrating anything in a club on an island which they caught on the way to their destination, everyone celebrated and drank for no apparent reason although they didn't need reasons to celebrate there are always good reasons to drink a good cold beer.

Usually you weren't a big fan of getting drunk over every little thing, it was fine from time to time, but most of the time you decided to disassociate in your mind with a soda in hand, get into some random fight or stroll through the streets of the town admiring its small details.

It was normal that you weren't with them in these kinds of moments, but Heat found it strange that you took so long to appear, when almost everyone had reached a state of unconsciousness, he knew that you weren't in trouble with anyone, because you weren't for not helpless, but he knew that your distracted mind could get into a situation that you could not handle.

"Are you worried?"

Wire kept him company, wanting to get some air because of the little headache he was starting to have, he knew that his friend was waiting you, because he was one of those who stayed sane and gathered the others to take them to the boat without that they ended up causing a fight while still drunk.

"Well… it's almost dawn."

"Yeah, she never takes that long to come back."

Both men almost startled at the voice of their vice captain, Killer left Kid because he started a little fight with the bartender because he wasn't going to serve any more alcohol. The three men stood in silence watching the sun rise very slowly, listening in silence to the screams of blows and grunts from their captain, who came out minutes later.

"We're out of here, that fucking old man has run out of a single drop of alcohol, Heat, Wire, pick up all the idiots who are unconscious, and where the hell has that idiot go?"

"Right away captain."

The two men left to announce their return to the ship, probably to continue the party there, Killer shrugged at your whereabouts, causing Kid to purse his lips, he was a little annoyed that you disappeared out of nowhere or that you stopped paying attention to him for anything else and there was always that little thorn in the heart that something could have happened to you, knows that you are strong, everyone knows it, but there are monsters beyond that no one is prepared to face in some moments.

"Maybe she's already at Victoria Punk, right?"

Killer had a similar train of thought as his childhood friend, but his tense shoulders returned to normal when both men saw you walk calmly towards them, although it was worrying to see your bloodstained clothes.

"Where the fuck have you been, gone so long huh?"

"I'm sorry captain! Ehh… maybe I accidentally cut off a couple of hands."

"accidentally? What are you hiding behind you?"

Killer asked noting how you had your hands behind your back as if you were hiding something potentially dangerous.

"Oh, that's nothing…"

Kid wasn't in the mood for so many secrets so with a quick move he made whatever you were hiding in your hands come to light.

"What-?"

"Can I keep it? Can I? Can I? It's too cute, some guys were mistreating it so I cut off their hands."

Kid and Killer shared a look when they saw how you cooed at a little brown kitten, surely you wanted to put it on the boat without them noticing, but they knew that could not be, knowing that Kid was an idiot with words, he had the decency to let this part to Killer so as not to make you cry.

"How could I tell you this… mmh, it's very dangerous for that cute kitty to get on the ship."

"But-"

"Do it for the kitten, you don't want him to suffer anymore, right?"

You had to abandon that kitten on the island, even though you threatened the bartender at that bar to take care of the cat if him didn't want his brains blown out.

[staysaneathome]

The Self-Preservation Society (1)

Des’ Daddy isn’t his Daddy anymore.

Des knows this because his family told him so. They’ve been whispering it into his ears, into his skin, into his tummy, with every quiet, soft step they take. Whispers of dusty, of spicy, of preserved, not sweaty and stinky and smoky like Des’ Daddy should be.

He thinks he’d know it even if they didn’t tell him though. Des’ Daddy went off to the wax museum with short hair, dark eyes, a lumpy eyebrow, and a grumpy frown. The man who came to find them and kissed his Mama at the butterfly exhibit has curly hair, freckles, a warm smile, and eyes so green Des’ family wanted to land on them, explore the vibrant flowers within.

But he is not Des’ Daddy, even though Mama likes him more. Even though Mama had got upset when Des was confused. Even though he swung Des up onto his shoulders in a piggyback ride that his Daddy never let him have. Even though he reads Des bedtime stories every night about birds piercing insects and bringing them back to the nest for their babies, even though he kisses Des’ forehead every morning and tells him to have a good day at school, even though he makes Mama laugh and put down the special juice to dance with him in the living room to Abuelita’s old tunes.

He is not Des’ Daddy.

And he knows Des knows this.

Des thinks he knows Des’ family knows this too.

His family whispers, predator, danger, predator, and Des tries to make himself look bigger. He’s messier, doesn’t cover his mouth to cough or blow his nose, doesn’t wipe his face at dinner or wash his hands after playing in the garden. Mama gets mad, and gets even madder when he doesn’t want to take a bath, because this is protection, this is defense.

Look, see how dirty and germy I am. You can’t eat me, or else you’ll get sick and die. Or I’ll taste really, really bad and you’ll wanna throw me up. So don’t eat me. Don’t even think about it.

But Des’ defenses don’t protect Mama. Mama doesn’t have a family like Des does, not yet, and she’s touching him so much to get rid of his protection, and she gets sick. She falls over in the middle of the day and has to be rushed to hospital. Des sits on a chair next to what is Not his Daddy and hears small snippets of big words like “cardiac arrest” and “cardenolides” and “overdose” and “overnight monitoring”.

The man who is not Des’ Daddy straps him into his car seat after the doctor tells him they’ll call with an update in the morning, and begins to drive.

“You did this, didn’t you Des?” He asks, in that mild way he does now. Nothing like the way Daddy used to yell, voice lowering and loudening until it sounded creaky with volume. Des wishes that he’d do that instead of this.

“Didn’t mean to.” He bites out, glaring down at his hands. One of his sisters perches on his clenched fist, opening and closing her wings softly and slowly. She’s very pretty, and her orange and black and brown wings feel like the gentlest kisses.

The man who isn’t Des’ Daddy nods, like this is perfectly normal. Like they aren’t driving past their house and out onto the motorway again, further and further away. “Of course you didn’t. Your mama loves you after all. It’s not your fault you can’t love her back properly.”

Des’s mouth drops open. “I can too.”

He’s very good at loving. He loves, loves, loves his Mama, his real Daddy, his Abuelita, his family. It’s why they came to him after all, when he fell from the big tree in the woods behind their house and everything hurt. They whisper they love him when they’re small and wriggling, when they’re quiet and growing, when they’re big and flying, and he whispers that he loves them too, because he does.

“No you can’t.” The hand that reaches out is faster than a bird.

It doesn’t feel like anything at first, as Des stares at his sister’s limp, crushed form in incomprehension.

Then the pain hits him and he opens his mouth in a wounded howl. It hurt him, it hurt him, the stranger hurt him, the predator hurt him, help, help, help.

His family come to his aid, filling the car, millions upon millions of beautiful orange, brown and black wings beating furiously around him. Protect, defend, beloved, ours, stay away, don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch—

The thing that is not Des’ Daddy laughs. It doesn’t even look away from the road as the poison drips down its face, doesn’t even blink as it lashes out and hurts more and more of Des’ family with every sweep of an arm. “You see? With all this inside you, Des, how could you love somebody? How could you love anybody? But don’t worry. We’re going somewhere where they can fix you up and make you aaaall better. Make you into the son Mama deserves, so you can love her properly. Don’t you want that? To love your Mama properly?”

Des can’t stop crying, reaches out and calls his family back to him. He doesn’t wanna go with the predator, but he doesn’t want his family getting hurt anymore either, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

They’re scared too, he can feel them, even as they whisper beloved and we love you and be brave and ours as they wander over him, as their wings brush his skin in the gentlest of kisses and comfort.

Outside the car is getting brighter, big, big buildings with lots of lights zooming past like fair lights on a tea cup ride or a merry-go-round. It makes his head hurt, as more tears spill from his eyes and he tries to sniff past his runny nose. Some of his family move to the window, blocking out the lights that make him feel like he wants to be sick.

“Ssh, easy Des.” The stranger hushes, tone soothing and comforting, the same as when reading bedtime stories about the daddy bird bringing his babies pretty dragonflies and bluebottles and butterflies to eat. “We’re almost there. You’ll feel so much better once we’ve got all that nonsense out of you and fixed you up. You’ll love your Mama so much. Don’t you want to love your Mama?”

He shakes his head, sobs coming harder. He does love his Mama, but he doesn’t wanna go with the predator, with the Not-His-Daddy, doesn’t want to get hurt anymore, he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

Eventually the car stops. There’s a click from the front. A door opens and slams shut.

Des hopes for a second it’ll be home it’s stopped in front of.

But then the Not-Daddy opens the car door and reaches in to undo the straps of Des’ car seat. He’s smiling gently, soothingly. “C’mon Des. Time to go.”

Des screams.

He screams as the Not-Daddy pulls him out of the car and slams the door, crushing some of his family in the process. As he starts to drag Des towards the wax museum, smiling at everyone who passes by like nothing’s wrong, like Des isn’t wailing behind him.

Nobody even looks down at Des, not even like they do when he cries while in the shops with Mama. It’s like he’s not even there.

“No! No!! You’re not my Daddy, let me go! Let me GO!!” He tries to sit down, tries to drag his legs. His family swarm around him, wings beating furiously as they cling to the back of his shirt, to his ears, to his hair.

The Not-Daddy laughs, yanks him along, like everything he and his family are doing doesn’t even matter—

There’s a noise that can only be described as a Crunch.

Last Christmas, Mama sent Des’ Abuelita a little soldier man for her present. He and Mama stayed up so they could watch Abuelita open it on the computer while his Daddy snored, watch her admire his tufty white beard, his furry black hat, his shiny red coat and black boots. The soldier man had a little flap on his back, and when Abuelita pulled it up, the soldier’s mouth opened. Abuelita had put a walnut into it, and pulled the little flap down, and the walnut’s shell fractured open with a little snap that made Des jump and Abuelita laugh and croon at him through the screen.

That’s what The Thing’s jaws slamming shut on his Not-Daddy’s arm makes him think of, as it shatters the arm like the walnut’s shell.

The Not-Daddy shrieks, high and inhuman like a recorder blown wrong, and drop Des.

He falls back on his bottom, dazed as no longer being pulled along.

Only for the Thing that appeared from nowhere and bit the Not-Daddy to scoop him up and start running.

Des screams again, wriggling and fighting against the too tight too strong grip, screams for his family, for his Mama, for somebody to come save him.

The Not-Daddy is screaming too, yelling things like “STOP!! HELP! HELP!!” and “LET GO OF MY SON!!” Things that make all the people who’d ignored Des before turn around and stare, pull out phones, lunge out to stop the Thing that’s got Des.

But they can’t catch it. The Thing twists under and through grasping arms in a way that can’t be real, can’t be possible, making people slam into each other as it ducks between them to thunder down a set of stairs, Des’ family not far behind.

It leaps over the metal barrier, legs high and graceful like the horses on TV that Des’ Daddy liked to watch on weekends, making his tummy swoop like he’s missed a step climbing the stairs too fast.

It swoops even harder when it leaps and sliiides down the metal bit between the escalators, like Des has always imagined doing. He always thought it would feel like the big slide at the fancy park Mama has to drive to go to, or going down the helter-skelter on an itchy mat at the fair, fast and whizzy and fun with all the people and posters flashing past.

Des hadn’t thought it would be so scary, the down so sharp he’s sure he’ll topple forwards and crack his head open, sure he’ll slip and is falling from the Big Tree again, his tummy flailing like one of his family with a damaged wing, his throat cracking as his screams are torn from it.

He can only whimper once The Thing jumps off at the bottom and is running again, taking sharp turns through the nasty smelling tunnels until a train is in front of them and swinging itself not through the doors into one of the carriages, but up and over and down behind the little wall in front of the space separating them, caging Des in its impossibly bent and tangled limbs.

The train screeches and starts to pull away from the light of the platform.

The Not-Daddy is too far away to stop it, though his screams are still echoing through the tunnels, ringing in Des’ ears.

His family are not.

Des feels like crying as thousands of thousands of butterflies descend onto The Thing keeping him captive as the train whizzes off into the darkness, wings beat beat beating around him in time with their song of protect, defend, intruder, predator, thief, family, beloved, ours, defend, protect, don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch.

They cluster as the train picks up speed, clinging to him and to the Thing, gathered so thickly that Des can feel thin droplets of liquid seeping into his hair, into his clothes, onto his skin. He laughs, because this is his defense, his family’s defense, that feels as gentle and soothing as bathwater to him, but won’t to this thing, hadn’t to Mama.

The Thing tenses, muscles locking tight and spasming around Des. In the light of the carriage behind him, Des can see its eyes blinking rapidly, before squeezing shut tightly in pain. Yeah, serves it right for trying to eat him!

The Thing raises a hand and brings it down towards his head—!

Des recoils with a cry, praying that it won’t hurt even more of his family than the Not-Daddy did.

…?

There’s no hurt…?

Instead, it feels like The Thing’s fingers are just…sitting there? On top of Des’ hair? Not even on top of any of his family, trying to trap antennae or crush wings.

The fingers stay flat and gentle even as another spasm rocks through The Thing’s body, even as his family crawl over them to investigate.

Then, slowly, the fingers on Des’ hair begin to move. Back and forth, back and forth, very, very slowly and carefully. There’s no pressing down, no digging in, nothing.

It’s…stroking him? Like he’s a cat, or something?

The train slows down to a stop as it emerges back into the light. There’s a hiss as the doors open and people get on and off. Then a beeping as the doors hiss shut again, and the train speeds back off into darkness.

And through it all, The Thing just keeps stroking him. It doesn’t try to hurt his family, even as its eyes are screwed shut and its body flinches irregularly.

There are brightly colored bands on its wrists, glowing bright green and yellow in the dark. Lots of his family are clustering over them, investigating, seeing if there’s any nice nectar for them there.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Des shouts. Mama says it’s not polite to shout, but he can’t hear anything over the rushing of the train otherwise, and he’s very confused by this Thing.

The Thing doesn’t reply.

“HELLO?!” Des shouts, even louder. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

There’s a moment.

And then the Thing gives a sharp, jerky nod.

“OKAY, SO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Des frowns when The Thing doesn’t reply again. “EXCUSE ME, I ASKED YOU A QUESTION! CAN'T YOU TALK?!”

The Thing shakes its head tightly.

Oh. Now Des feels bad, like when Mama told him off for asking why Maisy from the park had that pink plastic thing in her ear, and wouldn’t play tag right unless you really pushed her. “I’M SORRY.” He yells, because that’s what Mama made him say to Maisy.

The Thing’s fingers go back and forth over his head again, so he thinks it’s alright.

“ARE YOU GOING TO EAT ME?!” Des asks, because that’s very important for him to know.

Shake, shake, shake.

Des nods, heaving a deep breath. It doesn’t smell very nice, but it helps make his heart not race, and he slumps against The Thing’s limbs. His family’s wings slow, and the liquid slowly stops dripping down onto them.

It’s okay. He’s not going to be eaten. They’re not going to be eaten. Everything’s going to be okay.

“ARE YOU TRYING TO RESCUE ME FROM MY NOT-DADDY?!”

Nod, nod, nod. The jerks going through the Thing’s body are stopping now, though it’s eyes are still squeezed shut.

“THANK YOU.” Des shouts, because his Mama raised him to be a polite boy. “SORRY ABOUT TRYING TO MAKE YOU NOT EAT ME AND MY FAMILY’S DEFENSE CAR-TE-NO-LIDS!”

The Thing nods again, though its brow has creased more. In pain or confusion, Des isn’t quite sure. It moves its hand back and forth again over his hair though, so he’s pretty sure he’s forgiven.

Des stares at The Thing closely, not that he knows it’s not going to eat him or hurt him.

It’s a very odd looking Thing, almost like if someone tried to make something that looked like a person, but didn’t get all the details quite right. It looks normal enough from the nose up, if a bit grubby and sweaty. It’s also dressed like a person, with a shirt and pants and a backpack and shoes, even if these clothes are very holey and too-big, like when Abuelita sends Des things ‘to grow into’ for Christmas.

The problem is that it’s got these weird dark lines on both of its cheeks that go down its neck, where its mouth can open really wide like Abuelita’s neat little soldier. Its arms and legs also bend a lot past the way Des’ can, like it’s plasticine or Hugo from the Playground’s really bendy Nutcracker Barbie ballerina doll.

His brothers and sisters perched on The Thing don’t tell him of the same dusty, spicy, preserved smells that came from the Not Daddy, but there is a scent of artificial, of not-organic that they communicate to him while wandering over The Thing’s jaw.

Then he notices something behind it.

There’s a tall teenager in the train carriage behind The Thing that’s staring down at them through the window, eyes wide and mouth open. The tall teenager has a big poofy cloud of hair that Des thinks is very impressive, and wants to smush between his hands, like a pile of bath bubbles.

There’s soft, wavy white stuff floating around the teenager, like stuff on top of the bathwater after all the bubbles have gone.

There’s so much floaty stuff that it makes it very hard to see anyone else in the carriage.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” Des shouts at the teenager.

The Thing blinks at him, eyebrows raised. It lifts a hand and points to itself, as if to say, “who, me?”

“NOT YOU!” Des yells, exasperated. “THE BIG TEENAGER WITH THE BUBBLE BATH HAIR! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!”

The big tall teenager startles then, and lifts a hand and points to themself, much like The Thing did. The Thing twists its head all the way round like an owl in time to see the teenager with the bubble bath hair mouth “me?” at them.

“YES YOU. HONESTLY!” Des huffs. Why are teenagers and adults so slow all the time? And why can’t he twist his head round like an owl? It’s not fair.

There’s a moment of silence as the train slows down and pulls into the next station.

Then there’s the unpleasant swooping in his stomach again as the Thing hurls them over the train wall and onto the platform, somehow managing not to squish any of his family in the process and takes off running again.

There’s a loud “HEY!!” and over The Thing’s shoulder, Des can see the tall teenager with the poofy hair following them out of the carriage at a sprint, going through people as the floaty white stuff seems to make the people go see-through like ghosts whenever the teenager touches them.

One of his slower brothers, an older brother, is caught in the rapidly spilling floaty stuff as he tries to flutter up after them as The Thing runs up the stopped middle steps of the escalator, barely keeping up, and then—

Des feels cold. So, so cold, like after he fell from the big tree and was crying and no one was coming for him and he was scared.

He can’t see his brother. He can’t feel his brother.

He doesn’t want to talk to the tall teenager anymore.

“THE POOFY TEENAGER'S GAINING ON US!!” He yells to The Thing.

The Thing twists its head around to look again, but its feet keep running at full tilt. Des yelps as they slam into a cleaning man with a big yellow cart full of stuff, making him feel sick as The Thing pinwheels and hops to avoid falling over the now toppled cleaning man, who yells lots of bad words Mama tells him not to say after Daddy says them.

But when his head stops spinning, he watches as the big yellow cart rolls down the stairs, inexplicably gathering speed as it bursts through the barrier and zooms towards the top of the stopped escalator.

The stopped escalator that the tall poofy teenager with the bubble bath hair is just about to come out of.

The teenager can’t disappear through big yellow carts like they can people.

There’s lots of yelling, and banging, and screaming, and clattering, and Des sort of wants to see what happened, because it sounds like something he’d see when Mama lets him watch cartoons on the weekend. But The Thing’s escaped the cleaning man’s anger and run up the stairs out of the station, taking off down one of the brightly lit streets, weaving through crowds of adults in funny, shiny clothes.

It’s so dark, it’s clearly past his bedtime, but Des doesn’t feel sleepy at all.

He just clings tighter and watches his family flutter behind them as The Thing carries him farther and farther away from the teenager and the Not-Daddy that want to hurt him.

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer at the Burrow / Ron Weasley fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push / Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions / Chapter 10: You Would Be Fine / Chapter 11: Spell It Out / Chapter 12: Long Overdue 

Chapter 13: Always Want You

Author's note: okay so this chapter is gonna be a little steamy...pretty much the entire chapter is literally just steam so if you're not comfortable with that please don't read this chapter! thanks! :) 

Your knuckles hovered over the wooden door of Ron's bedroom. They were shaky, and your heart was beating faster and faster. You had successfully slipped out of Ginny's room after (of course) gushing to her and Hermione about all the romantic things that Ron had said to you. You were pretty sure they had seen you leave Ginny's room during the sleepover, but they opted to let you have your fun.

And fun you would have. If only you could work up the courage to knock on the door.

You don't know why you were nervous. Ron just bared his heart and soul to you outside a few hours ago but now standing at his bedroom door, you were racked with nerves. What if he changed his mind? What if you messed something up? What if you weren't as good a kisser as he was? Juvenile thoughts, yeah, but everything with Ron was new and exciting, you couldn't help feeling so inexperienced.

Before you could even decide whether or not to turn around and run back up the stairs, you heard a very familiar squawking noise. Dite. Perfect opportunity, you thought, before knocking on the door

The door swung open before you could even lift your hand away. Your knuckle was frozen there in midair as your gaze met Ron's. He had changed out of his button-up from the party and was now wearing loose sweat pants and his signature Chudley Cannons t-shirt. Just the sight of him made your head feel woozy and clouded.

"I....uh...heard Dite, so I decided to come check on her," you said, very awkwardly. Even though you knew how Ron felt about you, and vice versa, you still found yourself at a lost for words standing at his bedroom door. For some reason kissing him now seemed drastically different from kissing him in the garden.

Ron gave you a lazy grin.

"You came just for Dite, huh?" He asked, seeing right through you. Blush spread across your cheeks and you nodded curtly.

Before you could make any more of a fool of yourself, Ron gently clasped his fingers around your wrists and pulled you into the room, promptly shutting the door behind him. He then pushed your back up against the door and kissed you. Surprised, your hands flew to his hair and you deepened the kiss. Even though you had exchanged countless little kisses the entire night (you could barely keep your hands off each other), every single one had felt as passionate and important as the first.

Ron pulled away from you, his grin still playing on his, now chapped, lips.

"Still only here for Dite?" He asked, his eyes joking.

"Definitely," you responded, taking every ounce of your will power to push away from him rather than wrap your legs around his torso. You walked over to the owl cage in the corner of the room. Inside, standing on straw and looking very smug, was your little friend Dite.

You stroked the top of her feathers with the back of your fingers, smoothing out the black heart on top of her head. While you were distracted by your pet, you felt strong warm arms wrap around your waist from behind. Ron leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"Do you think she knows? About us?" Ron asked, tilting his head towards the small owl you were petting.

"Oh, definitely. She's practically screaming 'I told you so!' right now."

Ron wrapped his arms tighter around you as he chuckled. Your entire body felt warm with him wrapped around you. Wow, you thought. You could get used to this feeling.

He laughed again, kissing your shoulder while doing it so you felt his hot breath on your bare shoulder. You decided to wear a tank top and pajama pants to meet him tonight, and you were glad you did. His breath directly on your exposed skin was driving you insane.

"What're you laughing at?" You asked, your fingers moving away from petting Dite and instead landing on his arm. You traced up and down his freckled limb, soaking in every bit of him.

"People always say I'm the dumb one, but I literally bought you an owl named Aphrodite and you still didn't know how I felt about you," he said. You could feel his shoulders jostling up and down as he spoke so you knew he was still laughing.  

Rolling your eyes, you turned around in his arms and were now facing him. Your fingers trailed from his biceps up to his neck as you wove your fingers through his orange hair.

"I didn't want to assume anything," you defended yourself.

Ron lowered his lips to yours. "I wish you would've, then we could've done this a lot sooner," he responded. You could feel the shape of his words barely touching your lips as he spoke against them.

"Done what, exactly?" You asked teasingly.

His lips connected with yours once more and as he kissed you deeply, he slowly walked you back towards his bed.

"This," he mumbled huskily when your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Desire pooled into every pore of your body as you laid down on his bed, him hovering above you.

"Some privacy, please?" You said, regarding the birds in the corner of the room. Dite sent a wink in your direction as she flapped out her wings and took flight. As soon as your owls had flown out the open window, you dragged Ron's face down to yours.

"Kiss me, Weasley," you breathed.

And kiss you he did.

You thanked your lucky stars you were laying down because if not, your knees would have given out with the intensity of Ron's kiss. His mouth was hot against yours, his tongue dragging across your bottom lip hungrily. You kissed him back with the same feverish energy, wrapping your leg around his waist in one swift motion. He grunted into the kiss, left hand coming up to tangle in your hair as his right trailed down your body, touching you in places you desperately needed him at. His lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, leaving hot wet kisses along your jaw line.

"Y/n," he rasped against your skin, making you shudder under him.

Slowly, he kissed from your neck to your collarbone, relishing in the little moans you were emitting. His fingers bunched around the hem of your tank top, his eyes searching yours for permission. You nodded, letting him lift the material and smiling to yourself when he sharply inhaled. You hadn't worn a bra.

"Decided to keep with tradition, you know?" You joked as his eyes drank in the view of you.

"I love you so damn much," he said, his hands roaming over your body. His eyes bounced back up to yours and held your gaze. "You look so beautiful like this, all splayed out with your hair messy," he said. He was looking at you as if you were the most magical thing in the world-and to him you were. Which is saying a lot, because he was a wizard.

"I'm sorry I ran out on you the morning after we slept together," he blurted out. Wincing, he amended, "I mean not sleep sleep together, but sleeping next to each other, in the same bed, like we did."

It made your nerves ease when you watched him get flustered around you for once, instead of the other way around.

"Why did you?" You asked.

His hands stalled their trek on your body and moved back to your chin, cupping your face. He did that a lot, holding your face in his hands so gently. It made your heart melt and other parts of you heat up.

"I dunno, I guess I've just pictured this moment, right now, what we are doing, for the longest time...and I wanted to act on how I felt so badly that night...but I was too nervous," he confessed sheepishly.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could look him deeper in the eyes.

"Apology accepted. Just don't run out on me tomorrow morning, okay?"

His breath caught in his throat.

"You want to stay the night? With me? In my bed?" He asked nervously, as if he couldn't believe his luck.

After glancing down at your bare chest, you looked back up at him.

"Well, obviously," you joked.

He laughed through a grin and brought his lips to yours, before pushing you back into the pillows. Your head rested on his soft pillows and he kissed you again, making you feel like you were floating. His hands explored your chest while your fingers gripped the ends of his t-shirt, tugging it up slightly.

As if he could read your mind, Ron leaned back, quickly taking off his shirt and casting it away. Instantly, you attacked his shoulders and collarbones with hot, open mouthed kisses. You kissed every freckle, every mole, and every muscle on his chest.

Once you felt satisfied, you made your way back up to his lips, attaching yourself to them like they were water and you were dying of thirst. Ron eased you back to the pillows once more as his lips started kissing and sucking at the crook of your neck. You pressed you face into his red hair, the smell of cinnamon and apple filling your nose. He licked a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and you groaned, back arching.

Ron's fingers reached the drawstring of your pants, and he pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Because we can wait if you want," he rushed, his words tripping over one another.

You pulled him back into a kiss, breathing through it, "Ron, I want this, I want you, as long as you do too."

"I'll always want you," he replied.

His fingers dipped below your waistband. They immediately found their way to your core and you moaned louder than you expected, heat rushing to your face.

"Alright there, love?" Ron asked with a smug grin.

"Perfect," you replied, moaning again, not really caring about how desperate you must have seemed in the moment.

The rest of the night was filled with the same rhythm, kissing and asking permission and unabashedly showing each other how badly you wanted one another.

This lasted for quite some time, but by the time Dite and Pig had flown back into the room, you and Ron were cuddling together, out of breath, legs tangled up in the sheets.

"Hello," you greeted your owl. She gave you an approving nod before nestling into the straw of her cage, soundly falling asleep.

You turned your attention to the red haired boy laying next to you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His eyelids were heavy, and you could tell he was just as tired as you were. Taking out years worth of pent up desire and lust really tires a person out.

Ron pressed his lips against your mouth, your temple, your cheek, all the while mumbling "I love you," against your lips, again and again and again.

You fell asleep to that mantra, heart full, hair a mess, and absolutely, blissfully in love.

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

When you got time, can you do nsfw alphabet for Hawks? 🥺👉👈

Heck yeah! I never did one of those, so this might be a little off, but! I’ll try my best, Anon ;)  This is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever wrote, but it was pretty fun, so heed with caution.

A = Aftercare: I think he’s a sweetheart who’ll understand that dried up cum is a gross no-no. Like, he’ll wipe you down and himself gently and just cover you up with his wings and snuggle.

B = Body Part: His favorite part of your body? Thighs. He likes chicken thighs and he likes your thighs, but yours he’ll be kissing, sucking, and fucking between them. 

C = Cum: I can see him cumming in spurts. Like not a giant big fat load, but a lot of spurts that can last a few seconds.

D = Dirty Secret: I can see him getting off by wearing lingerie, like it doesn’t matter who his partner is, he feels sexy in them and anybody he’s with can probably appreciate it.

E = Experience: Given that he’s pretty busy with being a pro-hero and has worked hard all of his young life, I don’t see him having much experience. Of course he’s a fast learner ;)

F = Favorite Position: Any one that his wings don’t get ruffled during the hot mess. Like missionary or side fuckin’. As long as his partner is screaming his name, I think he’d be fine with anything, tbh.

G = Goofy: You bet that this birb man will tell stupid jokes and funny remarks while the two of you are doing the devil’s tango. If he’s not joking, then it’s because you asked him not to or if it’s a rare case of rough sex.

H = Hair: He isn’t too hairy, like I can imagine some chest hair, and the hair down there isn’t too crazy. He does like to groom himself and keep himself neat and tidy.

I = Intimacy: You bet he’s one for intimacy. Sure he might tell jokes or some remarks, but he’ll mostly praise you as his hands are intertwined with yours as he either fucks you or you fuck him slowly with him gauging your every expression.  

J = Jack off: Will probably mutual masturbate with you, or in the shower alone. 

K = Kink: Lingerie, power play (either he’s sub or dom), dirty talk, maybe some bondage, pegging. He’s up to what his s/o wants, honestly, and he’s very adaptable.   

L = Location: If he’s into any public sex at all, it’d be in the woods or somewhere private. He doesn’t want anybody else seeing or hearing you, because birds of prey don’t like to share ;)

M = Motivation: You could just be wearing his shirts, tbh and he’d get in the mood. Like especially if you use his shampoo or body wash and smell like him, it’s like “dessert” is offering itself to him, you know?

N = No: He’s not really into dub-con play, or where you’re not sure if you’re feeling up for it. Like, it just doesn’t fit well with him. 

O = Oral: Loooves performing on you. You, a squirming hot mess because of him and his talents? Yes please. Like he doesn’t mind you doing it to him, but he likes your reactions, better. 

P = Pace: Mostly slow at first, and then it picks up. Like on rare days if his partner asks him to just go rough on them, he wouldn’t mind, either. 

Q = Quickie: Speaking of which, it doesn’t really happen that often, unless he’s in a super hot mess or his partner is and he and them both both want to scratch that itch.

R = Risk: He’s willing to do almost anything whatever his partner is willing to do, tbh. Like, he’s open to ideas and likes to explore his partner in new ways, more.   

S = Stamina: A lot, actually. His wings are constantly flapping, carrying his body weight around for a while, so he’s use to reserving stamina and such so he doesn’t fall to the ground. He’ll probably go many rounds, and if his partner is done fully before him, he’ll clean them up and finish in the bathroom. 

T = Toys: I can see him liking them being used on him, more. Like his partner riding him while he has a dildo within him type of situation. Wouldn’t mind if his partner wanted to use toys on themselves, though. 

U = Unfair: He wouldn’t mind denying his partner’s orgasm if it meant them begging his name while they’re near tears. Drawing them so close to that edge, and then denying them is interesting to watch. Of course, he’ll let his partner finish first before him, but he’s a bird of prey, he likes to see the struggle, a little. 

V = Volume: I think he’d only be loud at the end of his orgasm, grunting out his partner’s name loudly as he cums. If his partner is loud and screaming, he might invest in sound-proof walls.

W = Wild card: Likes his hair being pulled as his partner’s wetness is dribbling down his chin and they’re moaning out his name as they’re super close to cumming on his face.

X = X-ray: He’s well built underneath his clothes, with twink tiddies and a dick that’s long and slender, resembling that of his feathers. Could pass as a twink, though. 

Y = Yearning: Like he’s not desperate to fuck you every second, but he’ll take any opportunity from his busy work schedule if he can.

Z = Zzz: He’s not too tired, after all, he’s use to reserving stamina. However, if his partner can somehow outlast him, he’d be dead-set on skipping aftercare and just go right to sleep with cum splattered all over the sheets and him.

 Hope you liked it, Anon! It was pretty fun, I’m starting to like our wholesome birb man a bit better ;)  

[wat3r-w1tch]

Chapter 2

[word count: 2052]

Impuse was, frightened to say the least. Zed and him walked through a random nether portal, got dropped in the middle of nowhere and now he's holding a demon at sword point. His morning could have been doing a lot better. His fear only grew as he felt Zed's shivers and shakes through his grip. But he swore he would keep Zed safe, even if its the last thing he does.

Tango was a different case. He could barely hold in his excitement. His wings twitched as he quickly put his hand out to greet the humans.

"Hello! I can't believe this is happening, This is awesome!" 

Impulse jumped at the movement of the demon. He pushed his sword closer to the demon, Hoping that would keep him from getting any closer. Tango tilted his head and pushed the sword aside

"Do all humans use gold? Diamond is much better!"

Tango stood up and stretched. He proceeded to shake all the sticks and leaves from his body. Zedaph took a few steps back, Pulling impulse with him. This demon was, Very tall. The light elf gulped as he adjusted his sword again.

"N-no, i use gold because I like it! Wait- Who are you! What do you want with us?"

Tango stared at them for awhile before pushing impulses sword aside. He cheerfully put his hand out again, Flashing a huge grin

"Im Tango Christopher Tek! But please, Just call me tango! I've, Never seen humans before!" his tail swung behind him and he waited for the human to shake his hand. After a while without a response he gained a confused look.

"Is shaking hands not a normal human thing? You guys don't talk about do you? Man! Humans are so small!" he jumped from comment to comment, circling the two. Impulse was terrified. Why did this demon not care about the fact he was holding him at sword point?

"Well... Actually, We're elves..." Zedaph said in a soft voice. Impulse gently elbowed Zed in the chest. Tango halted his movement and his ears shot up.

"Really? That's even better! What are your names?" 

He went back to standing in front of the two. He bounced on his heels waiting for a response. When he didn't get one he thought of something

"Heh, I'm not going to hurt you, You do know that right?"

He watched as taller elf's stand softened. He was still gripping onto his sword but at least he wasn't pointing it at him anymore. The smaller one's grip on the other had been let go.

"I've, Been stuck in a city full of only demons forever! I've never been able to see humans, nonetheless Elves! When I made that portal thingy i didn't actually expect it to work!"

Impulse's ears shot up at the mention of the portal.

"Wait wait wait, Your the reason that random portal showed up in the nether?"

"Nether? Is that where those portals lead? I've never heard of that" He walked around the pair and went towards the portal. He reached his hand out to it and traces his fingers around the obsidian.

"Y-Yeah! Its a huge realm with tons of lava and these weird white monsters called ghasts!" Zed jumped up and started to explain what the nether was. Tango's eyes lit up. His wings started to flap as he ran back to them.

"That sounds so amazing! Please tell me more!"

Zed proceeded to go on about the mobs in the nether, such as the blazes and wither skeletons. Impulse quickly jumped in and went on about glowstone. Tango watched with wide eyes as the elves in front of him talked with their hands, watching when they would reach parts they were very passionate about. They rambled on for a few minutes before they stopped. Tango took a second to process all the information he just got.

“That’s… amazing!!! I would love you know more about the other realms ... uh… what’s your guys names?”

“Oh! Im Zedaph and this is impulse!” Zedaph grinned as his ears perked up.

“Nice! Also, if you both are elves, why do you both look so different?” He said gesturing his hands to zed’s ears and hooves. Impulse looked over to Zed, hoping that he’d be the one to answer. But when Zedaph gave him the same look, his eyes darted back to the demon and gulped.

“Ah, well. There’s multiple types of elves. Like me, for example! I’m a light elf! I basically have electricity surging through my body. I can power Redstone lamps and basic redstone circuits. And in certain situations i can give energy to plants!”

Tango looked so amazed, he didn't think that elves were capable of such things. “And Zedaph is a Nature elf. They take care of animals or plants! Depending on what they choose they will gain the same appearance as the thing they take care of! Zed takes care of sheep, and that gave him his ears and hooves! There’s a bunch more but we’re the only two examples here right now”

Tango clapped his hands and had a slight bounce in his movements. Tango went on and on about how amazing they were. He managed to lead them to a nearby spot in the forest that he had set up earlier. He sat down with them and talked for ages about whatever came to mind. Impulse didn't expect it to be this easy when talking to tango. He didn't feel any fear. The demon would mention a certain topic and both elves would jump on the train as if it was nothing. They rambled on for hours and hours, just bonding over the simplest of things. Then, as the sun started to set, Tango got up and stretched. “This was, Amazing!!! You guys are so cool!!! Maybe, if you want, we can meet back up here tomorrow?”

 Impulse gave a nervous smile, a gentle nod and gently shook the sleeping zedaph awake. He mumbled something into Impulse’s sleeve and softly snored.  He chuckled and moved to pick Zed up. Within moments Zed had latched himself onto Impulse like a baby koala.

“That.. would be nice tango… Thank you for letting us ramble with you” He chuckled has the demon’s wings flapped and tail swayed. The elf gave a wave to the demon before watching him disappear into the dark forest. Impulse shifted and moved the sleeping nature elf to a comfier position. He slowly walked back to portal with his thoughts racing. What had he gotten zed and himself into?

======================================================================= Tango grinned from ear to ear as he walked through the forest. Impulse and Zed were very fun to talk to. They seemed to really like him. The demon council were a bunch of liars, Humans- No elves are very nice! Tango’s ears twitched at the thought that he was going to get to see his new friends tomorrow. When the city came into sight he took a deep inhale and lowered himself. He slowly crawled till the gate was in front of him. He climbed a tree and started at the guards. He glanced at the moon and started counting. He had done this many times, this was nothing. As soon as the guards slipped away from the gate tango leaped down and crawled back into the city. He creeped around the back alley just so no one would see him. He was right next to his house when he ran into something. Or better yet, someone. He shuddered as he recognized the color of the clothing. Tango quickly stood up and shot his eyes above him.

“O-Oh… Hello Council Hastaur… Mighty fine to see you tonight… at my house… just as I get back from a walk…”

“Tango Christopher Tek, Do Not Lie to Your council” His voice was deep, Rough, and demanding. Hearing his full name in such a tone made his whole body shiver. Tango knew he had messed up. Usually it was Proserpine or one of the lower demon councils who’d show up at tango’s house. But no, It was Hastuar. He was the head of the council. He loomed over tango, His lime green eyes flaring in the dark.

“I-I would Never lie! How dare you even accuse me of such-” Tango quickly cut off his sentence as Hastaur let out a bone shaking growl. “What were you doing out of the city young man?” “I wasn't doing anything wrong i swear! I was just exploring! It gets boring in this city!” Tango’s wings were slowing wrapping around him. It was something he did when he was scared. Hastaur let out another growl and walked closer to tango. With one hand he opened up the bag on his hip and pulled out a book. He threw it into tango’s arms and He instantly recognized it. He knew he should have taken it with him. “They would you like to explain why this book is missing a page? And why multiple city folk saw you running through the library and main street like a mad man?” “Hastaur, Please! I can explain if you just let me-”

“Tango i swear to any of the demigod’s still out there, if you did Anything to put this city in danger, I will Have your Wings cli-”

Hastaur Cut off his sentence as he looked at the small demon. His wings were around his body, ears pinned down and his eyes flashed with fear. He took a step back and ran his hand across his face. “......Im, sorry Tango. I didn't mean to threaten that��.. Listen, today has been long.” He sighed as he walked from the alley, gesturing tango to follow. Tango shivered and slowly followed. When they got in front of tango’s house, Hastaur looked at the smaller demon.  

“Three other council members were looking for you, and to find out that you had left the city…. It made them go overboard” Somehow, within a few minutes all anger from his voice had left. Hastuar’s voice was soothing and soft. He always tried his best to keep tango out of trouble, and to not scare him. He watched this demon grow up.Seeing anything happen to him would made Hastaur sick. He crouched down to be at eye level with tango.

“Tango i need you to listen to me. I try my hardest to keep you safe from the council, but you make that so Hard when you go around doing this! Had I not been the head of council, Your wings would already be clipped! I, I don't know how much longer I can defend you from them”

Hastuar gently put his hand on tango’s shoulder. He looked off to the side, still feeling bad about saying what he did earlier. “I need you to promise me something tango. You will stop all of these shenanigans. Promise you'll stop going behind the council's back and to not leave the city ever again"

Tango looked Hastaur in the eyes. He shifted uncomfortably under his grip and sighed. He gently nodded and to his relief, Hastaur let go of his shoulder. He stood up and stretched his wings. Tango yawned, eyes slowly trying to close.

"Alright Tango, Try and get some sleep. The council would like to talk to you tomorrow, So please be up by then"

And within a few seconds, Hastaur was already out of sight. Tango get out a shaky exhale. He hated lying to the demon council but he was gonna see impulse and Zedaph tomorrow, even if that meant not being able to come back. His mind raced thinking about the two elves, but soon all his trails of thought led back to the moments before. He didn't want to go to the council meeting, so he was gonna have to wake up early to avoid it. It was just going to be them yelling at him anyways. Nothing he hasn't heard before.

He walked into his house and threw his bag on the ground. He flopped down onto his bed and let out a loud groan. He quickly shuffled under his blankets and wrapped his wings around him. As he slowly started to drift asleep, he couldn't help but still feel a little bit of joy for tomorrow.

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

Iowa State Fair

* * * The Art of Loving Thomas Hunt Fan Fiction Masterlist * * *

– – –

Characters: Alex (MC), Thomas Hunt

Setting/Notes: This takes place during MC’s vacation in Red Carpet Diaries 3, Chapter 14. It is basically a rewrite of the Matt exclusive scene with Thomas. I kept some details the same but also changed others so it wasn’t verbatim. Also, it has nods to some of my other fics.  

 Day 6-Vacation:  @choicesseptemberchallenge

Rating: PG

– – –

As they continued their walk through town, Thomas stopped to examine a sign in the shop window. “If I remember correctly, you once told me about your first county fair visit.”

Alex smiled and took his hands in her own. “That was our first date… I know its not your thing...”

“You are my thing, Alex,” Thomas kissed her forehead. “If you want to go, we should go.”

“Really?” Alex exclaimed.

“How could I pass up an opportunity to see the famed butter cow sculpture,” Thomas teased.

Before they could even make it through the gates of the fair, a sign caught Alex’s eye. She pulled Thomas toward the petting zoo. “Oh my goodness, we have to go pet the animals!”

Thomas didn’t have a chance to protest before they were already at the exhibit.

Alex stopped next to an enclosure filled with fluffy, freshly hatched chicks. Her eyes wide as she stared in awe of the new babies.

“Would you like to hold one?” The farmer attending the fence offered. 

“Do you need to ask?” Alex beamed.

The attendant placed a chick in her hand. Alex stroked its downy, yellow fluff, as it peeped quietly in her hand. 

“Aww, don’t you have the softest hair, little man,” Alex cooed, fawning over the chick.

“I expect a woman from Iowa to know they have feathers and not hair,” Thomas stated. 

“Don’t worry about him, little guy. He’s just jealous. He thought he had the softest hair but, look at you!” Alex sang. “Who’s the softest?”

Alex noticed a hen watching her severely. She set the chick down in the enclosure. “Bye, little one.” The chick flapped his wings and ran back to his mom. 

“Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite,” Alex laced her fingers with Thomas’s and guided him toward the horse’s stables. A newborn foal standing beside its mom caught her attention.

“You may be the sweetest, most precious baby in the whole entire world,” Alex gushed over the foal. His mom whinnied in response. “You’re beautiful too, Mommy”. The mare neighed.

“Did you forget to tell me you speak animal?” Thomas questioned.

“I just spent a lot of time around animals as a child. Chazz, his sisters and I would walk around and sneak into some farms to pet the animals. Best. Therapy. EVER!” Alex beamed.

The foal took a step closer to Alex so that she could pet him through the bars in the stall.

“Hi, I’m Alex. It looks like your name is Charming. Now isn’t that the most perfect name for such a charming little prince pony,” Alex raved, as she read the sign next to them. “That makes you Lady and a fine one you are!”

Thomas watched Alex as Charming nuzzled against her hand.

Alex took a step back to move closer to Thomas. She took his hand and walked back to the foal. Alex guided Thomas’s hand toward Charming. 

“What are you doing?” Thomas inquired. 

“You cannot leave the fair without petting at least one animal. It’s the rule,” Alex explained. 

“I’m not sure that’s an actual rule,” Thomas challenged. “I would like to see the legal documentation stating such.”

Alex guided his hand along the foal’s neck. Charming moved closer to them. Alex gently removed her hand as she looked up at Thomas. The country did him well. He hadn’t once mentioned his creative block. And he had been open to trying new things. She couldn’t wait to be his wife.  

“You seemed to be getting along well. Maybe one day if you need a horse for a film you can call your new friend, Charming, for a favor,” Alex teased. 

“You never know,” Thomas smirked.

Thomas and Alex stopped to pet a few more animals before washing their hands and heading on their way.

As they walked down the alleyway, Alex stopped abruptly. “Do you smell that?”

“What?” Thomas asked.

“Fair food!” Alex grinned.

“How are you always hungry?” Thomas marveled.

“It’s a gift.” Alex and Thomas headed to the nearest concession stand. “Funnel cake or Fried Oreos?”

“What in God’s name are Fried Oreos?” Thomas asked; his face wrinkled in disgust. 

“Fried Oreos it is! You will love them,” Alex proclaimed.

“I have my reservations. You already tried to poison my palette with that repugnant Slurpee. I’m not sure I trust your food judgment anymore,” Thomas taunted.

“Just try it,” Alex suggested, moving a cookie toward his mouth. “For me?”

Thomas sighed and obliged. His eyes opened wide. “That is actually not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Not the worst thing ever? What a compliment,” Alex pushed Thomas playfully. Alex handed Thomas another Oreo and then took one for herself. “Mmmm… delicious!” 

Alex and Thomas continued until they found the butter sculpture exhibit. 

“Here it is,” Alex began. “The butter cow!”

“Huh,” Thomas expressed. “It is a cow sculpted from butter. I’m not really sure what I expected. And they do this every year?” 

“It’s tradition,” Alex acknowledged. 

“Do you ever wonder how these traditions start? Who decided ‘let me just take  this giant slab of butter and sculpt a cow’?” Thomas questioned.

“No idea,” Alex admitted. “But, it’s a lot of fun to look at. I mean sure it started with the cow, but look at how far it has come.” Alex motioned her hand around the exhibit, which showcased Sesame Street butter sculptures this year.

“I won’t deny the talent of the sculptors; however, I cannot pretend to understand the medium,” Thomas explained. 

“I know it is against your way of thinking but, you don’t have to understand absolutely everything to appreciate it,” Alex offered.

Thomas turned to Alex and cradled her face in his hand. “I know that to be true because, I appreciate you more than you know and yet, I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand all that you are and never truly know everything.”

Alex pulled Thomas close and let her lips touch his. She kissed him softly, letting her teeth graze his lower lip as she pulled away.

“Where to next?” Thomas asked.

“How about we go play some games?” Alex answered. “Maybe you can teach me how to beat one of them or at least show off your hard work and practice.”

“As you wish,” Thomas agreed with a smile. He and Alex made their way back out into the fairgrounds. They continued exploring the fair until late into the evening, enjoying every perfect moment together.

---

Thomas Tags:  @hopelessromantic1352  ;  ; @alleksa16  ; @the-soot-sprite  ;  @mfackenthal ; @alj4890  ; @flyawayboo; @twin-skltns ;  @pb-boeboe ; @lilyofchoices  ; @choicesseptemberchallenge

[sleepyfan-blog]

I’m honestly really curious to see the first Ink/Cross encounter with Dream and Nightmare for the ‘bounty on their head/what I’m fighting for’ verse. I just feel like there’s a story there and I really love this verse too.

Dreamswap is by @onebizarrekai

Set in the same verse as this and this.

Characters and pairing: DS Dream, DS Nightmare, DS Cross, DS Ink, DS Dreammare, DS Crink

warnings: none

summary: DS Nightmare and Dream find Cross and Ink in what’s left of X-Tale

tag list: @anxiety-is-married-to-depression @angelofthehalfmoon @trainwreck-of-skeletons @hisame-amadashi​ @therandomskelekey

Nightmare had been sensing something… Off for at least a week. It wasn’t the despair of a genocide timeline (he had figured out what that sensation was decades ago. Dream had told him to interrupt whatever he was doing the moment he felt such a shift so that the  two of them- and as Justice Reigns continued to grow, a handful of strong and trustworthy individuals, both to evacuate the civilians, and to… Deal with the killer Determined Being. Still, if whatever it was pinged on his senses, it was something that they needed to deal with sooner rather than later. He sighed and stretched a little bit, frowning a little in concentration as he used his senses to find -

Ah, Dream was in the orphanage again. A small smile appeared on his face as Nightmare walked to where the orphanage was - wanting to give his other half some time there. He knew that Dream liked interacting with the kids - checking in on them to see how they were healing from what had happened to them, encouraging them to look towards the future, all that positive jazz.

He found Dream covered in kids, a bright smile on his face as a couple of them hid in his wings, giggling brightly. “Having fun?” Nightmare teased as he made his way through the sea of tiny mortals. “Or do you need to be rescued?”

“Hmm? Oh, I am fine. They decided to tackle me all at once, to see if they could find where I was ticklish.” Dream responded with a light laugh.

Nightmare’s eye lights brightened, and a wicked smirk appeared on his face “Ticklish, hmm? Have any of you figured that out, yet?”

The positive spirit narrowed his eye lights up at his mate a little “Nightmare…” There was a hint of a playful warning in the other’s voice.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out~!” The negative spirit responded, still grinning mischievously “I’m just curious if they’ve figured it out yet.”

“Nu-uh! We haven’t figured it out, lord Von Licht.” A tiny bunny monster responded, shaking xer head, their little ears flapping a little. Their eyes were wide and emotional aura adorably curious as they asked “Do you know?”

Nightmare hummed and nodded, kneeling down and gently patting the top of xer head “I sure do… We’re mates after all. But I’m pretty sure that he’d rather I keep that a secret. And I”m sorry, but I kind of need to steal him away from you all for a bit.”

All of the kids fussed a little bit, pouting adorably as they snuggled further into Dream “Do you really hafta?” A tiny lizard monster asked, tears threatening to fall from their face.

“Hey now, there’s no need for tears, kiddo…” Nightmare murmured, awkwardly reaching out to the kid, glad that they didn’t flinch away from him as he awkwardly patted the top of their head “It’s just boring adult things. You’ll have your fluffy angel back in no more than an hour or two, probably.”

Dream sighed and lightly whacked him with an edge of one of his wings “How many times must I ask you not to call me that? It encourages the others.”

Nightmare snickered a little bit at that “It’s what you get for being all fluffy, Dreamy-wings. ‘Sides you are my angel. You’ve been trying to keep me on the goody-two-shoes path since we were first created… And you’ve saved me when I needed it most.” Fuck. He was being sappy.

The expression on Dream’s face was soft and his aura was loving and Nightmare was going to hide no- where had Dream gone? The other’s voice spoke up from behind and above him (stupidly tall jerk) as a pair of familiar arms wrap around him, his wing folding around the both of them as well. “I love you too, Nightmare. Let’s go somewhere more private, hmm?”

Nightmare nodded, feeling a light blush dusting his cheeks “Yeah. Wasn’t lying about needing to talk to you about something.” He responds softly.

Dream nods, lowers his wings and says his goodbyes to the children, encouraging them to return to their studies before the two of them left the orphanage, walking to their private rooms hand in hand.

~

“There’s been a shift. I’ve been feeling it for about an hour. It doesn’t feel like a murderous one? But we need to see what’s going on. I… It’s important.” Nightmare explains the moment that they’re alone.

Dream frowns a little and nods “I can sense it as well - I will inform Champion that we will be leaving the timeline, and then we’ll search for this… Issue. Depending on what it is, we may need backup.”

The negative spirit nods, and waits impatiently for the message to be sent off, shutting off his eye lights and pacing around the room - the sensation is definitely intensifying and it’s making him antsy. He focuses on the connections between worlds, searching for the source of the pull, having not quite summoned a portal, but getting close to doing so.

Nightmare’s found the correct connection point when Dream comes back, nodding to him “Champion has been informed - he’s gathering a couple of teams, depending on what we may end up needing to do - be it disaster relief or… More drastic measures.”

The negative spirit nods, saying “I believe I’ve found the AU that needs help.” He opens the portal moments later and the two of them walk into the world together.

It’s… A completely blank, white space. There’s a yawning emptiness in this place, but Nightmare feels strongly pulled deeper inside of this space. Is it really an alternate universe? He calls out as loudly as he dares, his voice echoing faintly “Hello? Is there someone here? You don’t have to hide… We… We’re here to help.” Stars above and below he hopes that didn’t sound as awkward as he felt it was.

Dream sends him a small smile and gently grabbed one of his hands, squeezing for a moment before, nodding a little bit and smiling warmly at his other half. “I can sense something as well…”

They continue walking for a frankly unknowable distance, and a voice from further in this white void speaks out, confused and slightly terrified “I-Ink did you hear someone else speak a little bit ago?”

“Yes… It’s something new, Cross… Let’s go check it out.” The other voice responded, sounding vaguely curious. Two Sanses come running towards them at high speed, one wearing brown and blue clothes, the other in a monochromatic outfit that looks almost like a guard’s uniform.

Both of them have mismatched eyes, but the one in black and white clothing runs a little closer to the both of them, taking them in and murmuring softly to his friend “You… You see them too, right? I… I haven’t finally snapped…”

“If you see a winged golden skeleton and his purple companion, then no, you’re not crazy. At least no crazier than I am, because that’s who I see before me.” The other responds.. He has a bandolier of vials on his chest, each a different color.

Dream takes a step forwards, smiling kindly at both of the skeletons “Greetings, my name is Dream Von Licht, and this is my mate, Nightmare… What are your names?”

Both of them light up visibly at that, before they both sigh. The skeleton with one determination red eye light spoke up “My name is Cross, his is Ink… My… This was my world before it… Before I….” He hunched his shoulders as a wave of pain, sorrow and guilt floods the other’s emotional aura “Something terrible happened, and I was… I was alone for a long time. Then Ink came here, although he doesn’t remember how he’d gotten here in the first place, so neither of us know how to make a portal to leave.”

Nightmare’s eye lights glow brightly and, after sending a brief glance to Dream, walks towards the monochromatic skeleton, his voice warm and gentle - or his best approximation of that “Hey… No matter what happened here, I’m sure you did all you could to protect those who you loved… You’re not the only one whose made mistakes. Stars above only how much crap I’ve messed up in the past… But that doesn’t mean that you give up. Learn from the mistakes of the past and continue moving forwards. Dream and I run an organization that tries to bring peace and stability to the multiverse. I don’t know if we’ll ever truly succeed, but we’ve made some good progress in the worlds that we’ve reached out to. We can take you from this place and bring you to one of the worlds that - and don’t laugh at me, I didn’t name the organization - Justice Reigns, has helped. A post-pacifist Outertale. It’s a beautiful AU, filled with so many stars and worlds to explore…”

Cross’s eye lights turn into stars briefly, and the negative feelings within the other lower - in part because Nightmare is using his magic to gently draw off the other’s bad emotions,  while his mate is subtly increasing the positive emotions around the both of them “I… I like stars… But I… I want to help other people. I was trained to be a royal guard… I… I ended up failing my charges, but please… Your cause sounds like a noble one, and I want to help if I can. In any way that I can/”

Ink is watching the both of them - focused rather intensely on Dream for a couple of moments before he glances at Cross, and smiles with a tender warmth- and the other moves forwards slowly, gently grabbing one of Cross’s hands, squeezing it gently “Where you’re going, I’ll follow, Cross. I can’t say that I believe in much… But I do believe in your happiness,  mon ami.”

Cross blushes a little, smiling a bit wider at that, squeezing his friend? Mate’s? Hand back and nods “We… We’ll go with you. I’m not sure how much use either of us is going to be, but we’ll do all we can to help you.”

“Once we get the two of you back to our headquarters, we’ll see what sorts of abilities the two of you have, and then we’ll discuss options. There are many ways that you can help.” Dream reassured the both of them, smiling warmly as he spoke, creating a portal out of the world “Through this, and you’ll leave this world.”

Cross ran through it as fast as he could, Ink a half-step behind him, both of them genuinely excited to leave that dreary, blank space. Both of the emotive guardians chuckle a little as they follow the pair at a more sedate pace.

“So… So colorful…” Cross murmurs, staring around him at the forest meadow that Dream had opened the portal, kneeling down as he stared at the wildflowers that grew amongst the grass, his fingers trembling as he lightly touched the vibrant petals. “Ink… Ink have you ever seen anything like this?”

“No… My world was almost as empty as yours… I was… I was barely able to leave it and stagger into yours…” Ink answered earnestly, his eye lights swirling shapes and colors, seemingly unable to settle on one pattern or color, kneeling down next to cross and lightly touching the flowers as well.

The earnest wonder and joy in their emotional auras was a delight to see, though it spoke to just how long they’d been in that dreary void. Dream had been completely correct in starting them off away from other people - which were likely going to be incredibly overwhelming to the both of them for some time to come, Nightmare notes silently, grinning a little and leaning into his mate as he watched the pair of them stare and ever so gently touch the flowers.

“Take as much time exploring this place as you like. We are not pressed for time.” Dream encourages gently, wrapping an arm around Nighmare’s waist and nuzzling the top of his head a little, clearly content to stay put.

[rallis-fatalis]

A Twist of Fate

A helpless monster meets his fate in the forested wastes of the north, and while he was sure he was meant to die that day, someone else had other plans. 

Being a monster was hard. Being a monster that couldn't defend itself was even harder. But being a monster that also hardly had use of its eyes was a recipe for a short life. Living in the mountain caves in the north was tough. Humans came by often to murder innocent beasts just trying to live their lives. The local trolls would also often saunter down looking for an easy meal, and more often than not they left with a successful hunt. It took everything for a monster to fight back and not end up as another trophy for some human's mantle or as an ingredient in rock stew. If you couldn't fight back, you died. And you had to see to be able to fight back. So what was life like for a monster that couldn't so much as peck back to defend itself nor even see a route of escape to flee?

It was currently like this.

There were blobs of color in every direction, no details to help him determine if anything around him could help. There were three black blobs chasing after him, all much bigger than his wiry bird-like frame. He could hear their whinnies and screams as they chased him through the world of earthy smudges. All he had done was try asking for help, he was lost after all, and they decided to bully him instead of help because he was weak and couldn't fight back! These black blobs were no different from his own kind in the mountain... Maybe he shouldn't try to find his way back.

A loud whinny screeched behind him and the snapping of teeth gnashed right next to his ear. He squawked and ran faster. If he didn't focus, he wasn't going to find his way home for a whole different reason. He was starting to get frantic. He couldn't see an escape, literally and figuratively. He tried listening over the stomping and neighing behind him for something that could lead him in the direction of safety, anything!

A dark blur appeared beneath his feet and tripped him, faceplanting him in the dirt. So a tree root was to be his undoing? He would have lamented if he had the luxury. The three black blurs surrounded him, towering overhead. He whined and covered his face with his wings. He couldn't bear to watch what would happen next, not that he could anyway. The black blurs' whinnies of cruel excitement quickly turned into ones of fear as something ran over. He poked his head out just a bit to watch as best as he could. A blue blob had joined the fray, hissing and roaring as it smacked his attackers. They howled in pain and sped off, vanishing into the distance. The blue blob then cooed softly and bent down next to him. Details came into view and whatever had just saved him was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was another monster that looked nothing like him, and although the sight of something unfamiliar scared him, the blue beast looked at him with worry and kindness, something he wasn't used to, and it made him feel safer immediately.

The blue monster pat his head and smiled. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head and sat up, shaking the dirt off his face.

The monster beamed. "Good! Those dark unicorns can be really mean. They'll try to attack anything smaller than them until they get bored or hurt. Such a small cockatrice like yourself would be a fun target."

A cockatrice? He'd never heard the word before. He had an actual name, not whatever 'cockatrice' was. And the cruel monikers of 'no-sight' or things of the like. He told his savior his name was Twist, not cockatrice.

"Hello Twist! I'm Rallis! And I know your name isn't cockatrice. It's what you are! Twist the cockatrice!" Rallis checked him over for injuries. Luckily he just had some small scrapes and bruises. "Cockatrices can paralyze their attackers if they lock eyes. Why didn't you stop them?"

Twist drooped and explained he couldn't. As a side effect of his terrible eyesight, he couldn't stun anything.

"Oh you poor thing. You don't have things easy. Do you have someone to look after you? Or somewhere to go? I'll help you get to wherever you need to go."

He was trying to get back into his mountain, he explained. He had been chased out by a human trying to kill him and ran until he thought he was safe, until he realized he had no idea where he was and couldn't see the way back.

"Oh I know where you're from! You ran pretty far! I'll help you back."

Twist chirped happily and hopped up to get walking, but a sharp pain in his foot sent him crashing back to the ground with a cry. Rallis was on him in an instant.

"Whoa, what's wrong?!" She helped him up and saw he was dangling his foot, trying not to put pressure on it. Something tripped him, he said, and it hurt his foot. She took a closer look and gently nudged at his ankle. "Oh dear. Your foot is sprained. That's no good. I'll just carry you then."

Twist let out a confused wark as she picked him up and carried him in her arms. He flapped his wings in her face, not being used to being held.

"Stop, Twist!" Rallis whined. "Fold your wings up and lean against me, you'll be fine. I won't let you fall."

He whined and listened, settling down and curling into her with his head on her shoulder. She tightened her hold on him and he suddenly felt safe and warm and relaxed in her arms.

"There you go," she cooed. "Now let's get you home. And if there's any humans there still trying to hunt you I'll be sure to make it so they're never able to come back." She ended her threat with a growl and Twist was inclined to believe her.

The two chatted on the walk back to the mountain caves. Twist wanted to know what she was and she explained to him what dragons were. She told him about her recently adopted dragon children as well and what young dragons were like. Twist couldn't help but smile. This was his first time meeting a dragon but if they were all like Rallis he was sure he'd like them all. She asked if he had any family, to which he drooped with a sad coo. His father was dead and his mother had more or less abandoned him, not wanting a useless bird as a child that could never learn to defend itself. His mother begrudgingly brought him food on the rare instances she felt charitable, but that was about it. He had no brothers and sisters, and the other cockatrices of the mountain wanted nothing to do with him. They saw him as a liability.

Rallis frowned. "Are you sure you want to go back then? That doesn't sound like a good home."

Twist let out a confused chirp. It might not be the best place to live but where else would he go? It was the only place he knew and he wasn't exactly in a position to leave and explore in search of a new home.

He shook his head. No, he needed to get home. So Rallis helped him do just that.

The familiar coldness of the mountain greeted them as they walked into the dark caves. Twist shivered at the familiarity and chirped. He was happy to be back in familiar territory. He showed Rallis where to go, motioning this way and that and happily squirming in her arms. They soon came across one of the many cockatrice encampments within the mountain. Every one of the birds glared at Twist as Rallis carried him by. A particularly green cockatrice caught Twist's eye and he shrieked happily. The bird glared back, disgusted.

Twist asked to be let down. Rallis let him go and watched him hobble over to the green cockatrice. He turned to Rallis to explain this was his mom. He smiled at his mom, saying how he was safe now and how he made a new friend called a dragon out in the wild. His mother didn't seem to care, hissing at her son. Useless, she called him. Needing an outsider's help to fight back and get home. Upset with his weakness, his mother grabbed one of his crest feathers in her beak and yanked it out. Twist shrieked in pain but took it as if he was meant to be treated no other way.

Rallis hissed in and ran forward, placing herself between the two. "That's not how mothers should treat their children!"

The green bird snorted something about not wanting to be that thing's mother and stomped away. Twist drooped and rubbed his head, but he quickly perked up at the presence of everyone else. He hobbled over to the rest of the group, eager to share his adventure, but they all either left immediately or hissed for him to go away. One grew tired of his insistent whining and whipped him with their tail while another kicked at him.

Rallis quickly put herself between Twist and his attackers and scared them off with a frightful roar. The rest of the group ran off as well, leaving Twist and Rallis alone to sulk with the limpwurt roots.

"How horrible! The other communities of cockatrices in here don't act like that!" Rallis exclaimed, appalled. Twist hung his head. He knew he was an outcast everyone disliked but he hoped at least one bird would be happy he was back and safe. Rallis knelt down and hugged him. "I'm so sorry Twist. That wasn't right of them. You should be treated better. Have you thought about going to another flock?"

Twist wouldn't lie. He did think about it once or twice. But the few outsiders he had bumped into treated him just the same.

Rallis frowned. "That is unacceptable! If no one here will take care of and love you, then I will! You hear that?!" she shouted into the caverns. "I'm gonna be Twist's family now and I'm gonna treat him right! If you'll let me, of course."

He wasn't too sure about that idea, but he did like the idea of somewhere safe to be while his foot healed. His new friend seemed good and like she would help him until he could at least be well enough to run from danger. Maybe a few days with the dragon wouldn't be a bad idea.

Rallis smiled and picked him back up and this time he didn't struggle or flail about. "Then off we go! You can stay as long as you want until you think you're ready to go back home."

Twist smiled and screeched happily as Rallis carried him off. He watched over her shoulder as the grey blobs of the mountains he called home grew blurrier and blurrier until they faded completely. He'd come back eventually, he thought. When he was ready to go home and to his family.

________________

A few days turned into a few weeks, and that turned into a few months. Twist didn't want to leave Rallis and her home. He didn't want to leave the seven red dragons she called her children, nor the little green and red serpent he befriended day one, nor the lush gardens he could run around in and wonderful food and loving dragon caretaker. Sometimes he thought about his home in the mountain and his mom and his flock, but he found as time passed he wanted to go back less and less and he was sure they wanted him back just as much. This place felt warm and safe, like the place he was meant to live the whole time. And one day a thought hit him and he couldn't help but smile. This place felt like it was supposed to be his home because it was his home. This wasn't some cold hole in the rocks where he had to sit in the dark and starve out of sight of everyone else or be mistreated. He didn't have to run and hide from danger and be alone any longer. This was a real home, his real home, with a mom who loved him and brothers and sisters and a family that would stand by him through thick and thin.

So on that day, months after Rallis had brought him home, he came up to her and asked her if he could stay forever. Of course she said yes, and when he called her mom for the first time she teared up on the spot, happy and proud to have another wonderful son join her loving family.

[trashyocstash]

after all this time, i finally finished the second part to the vampire au story. i’m not entirely satisfied with it, but i hope you like it anyways. this takes place a year after the story, in 1855.

warnings for a brief mention of suicide and smut.

Vampire Julie was alone in the kitchen, smiling as she put the finishing touches on a pie she was baking for her and her lover Rick.

They’d gotten together last year, and ever since then, Julie had never been so free or happy. She had found true love, and was now a vampire, no longer chained to the Victorian society she came from. And as a vampire, she felt like she’d really changed, Julie was feeling more confident in herself, and now had a love for the dark and macabre. She and Rick would have dates in graveyards together, travel in haunted locations, and explore dark foggy woods. In addition, she also now wore all black, enjoyed drinking blood from skull cups, and the house she lived in with Rick looked haunted, which she liked too.

Deep in her mind, she was still sad about losing her parents, she knew if there was indeed an afterlife, she'd never see them again. But thankfully, she had been working on overcoming this. Sometimes she wondered how they would react to knowing their own daughter had become a vampire, thinking they might be shocked at first, but would come to accept it.

Julie shook her head, there was no time to focus on that, it was time to focus on Rick instead, who she knew would be coming home soon from a hunt, with a nice delicious pie waiting for him.

She then heard a knock at the door, and opened it, greeted by a bloody Rick, who was dragging a body behind him. “Hey Batty! I'm back from my hunt!”

“I can see that sweetheart.” Julie smiled, noticing the blood on him and the body. “Now, why don't you clean the blood of you, and put the body away okay? When you get back, you can eat some pie I made for you.”

He gave her a big smile. “Y-You did? That’s great! W-Where i-is it?”

“In the kitchen.” She answered. “I know how hungry you get after a hunt, and so I thought you’d like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” Rick beamed.

He tried to make the move to eat, but Julie stopped him and made him go to the bathroom to clean up. Rick grumbled, dragging the body away with him.

He came back later, taking a few pieces of pie and setting them on a plate. Julie took some pieces too, and they sat down to eat together, making sure to pour blood into cups too.

“By the way Batty, do you wanna practice your flying skills with me after we finish eating?” Rick asked. “I think it would do you some good.”

“Oh that sounds wonderful! Of course I will!” She agreed.

He grinned. “It's a-a date.”

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

After they finished eating, Rick and Julie headed outside and turned into bats, though it took Julie just a little bit longer to turn into a bat than Rick, but she felt like she was getting the hang of it.

“Let's get going.” Rick told her with a wide smile, then started to fly off.

She followed him as best she could, quickly flapping her wings so she could reach him. Eventually, she did, and was pretty pleased with herself.

“You're really getting the hang of this!” He praised.

“Thank you..” Julie blushed. “It's a little hard, but I'm trying my best.”

“You know what they say Batty, practice makes perfect.”

“Indeed it does.” She smiled.

Rick and Julie continued to fly together as bats, while Rick helped her from time to time. But the further they went on, the better she did, which he took notice of. He was very proud of her, pleased to see how far she'd come since the first time she turned into a bat, when she'd quickly fallen before Rick saved her, and had struggled during her first flying lesson. But she was a fast learner, picking up on things quickly, which made things easier for the both of them. One day, he knew they could fly in harmony together, high in the sky, content and without worry. And he knew too that they'd be there soon.

As they continued to fly, Julie found herself in awe of the sights around and below her. The moon shone brightly in the sky, the green of the forest, the stars, bodies of water, and the occasional building from time to time. Seeing everything from so high in the sky was always so exciting and exhilarating for her, and every time she flew, she felt like she never wanted it to end. The fact Rick was with her made it even better.

But soon, it did end. Julie followed Rick as he landed on a clearing in the woods and turned back into a vampire, with her turning back into a vampire as well.

“Oh Rick, that was so much fun!” Julie exclaimed.

“Yep, it w-was.” Rick agreed. Julie then kissed him deeply, and he returned it.

“So, what do you wanna do now my moonbeam?” She asked.

He thought for a moment, before an idea came to his mind. “Aha! I-I g-got it! Why don't we race in our wolf forms? I wanna s-see how well you're getting the hang of your wolf form!”

“That's a wonderful idea!” She beamed. “Let's do it!”

Rick watched as she turned into a wolf, again, taking some time before it worked. But when it did, she had turned into a beautiful red wolf. He followed her, turning into a dark wolf like he had before.

They went beside each other, and started to run alongside each other. At first, Rick seemed to be getting the upper hand, or paw rather, as he was in the lead. But to his surprise, Julie ended up taking the lead, and in the end, she won.

When they finished their race, arriving out of the forest, both Rick and Julie stopped and looked at each other, with Julie giving him a toothy grin. “I won!”

“You sure did, I'm proud of how you've come.” He then licked her face as she blushed.

“You're too sweet Rick, you know that?”

He really didn't think of himself as sweet, but was flattered. Rick licked her face again. “And so are you.”

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

They turned back into vampires, and stayed outside a little bit longer. The two of them sat on a hill together, watching the moon and stars as they cuddled.

Until becoming a vampire, Julie had never realized how beautiful the night was, as she'd never been able to fully appreciate it beforehand. But now she could, and did. To her, the night was far more beautiful than the day, and that wasn't just because she burned in the sun, but because the view of the stars glimmering in the sky, and the moon glowing looked far more lovely than the sun shining.

Rick turned his head over to see her and smiled, noticing how enchanted she was by the night sky, and smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek. She noticed the kiss, and when Rick turned his head away, she kissed him back. In retaliation, he started showering her with kisses, making her laugh and giggle.

When he finished, Julie rewarded him with a kiss on the lips, feeling his fangs brushing against her. “I love you so much…” She said softly, giving him a look filled with pure love and adoration.

“I love you too my Batty..” He smiled, letting his fingers gently caress her curves.

Julie rested her head against his chest, laying her hand on it. She could hear his breathing and smell his maleness and the forest nearby, accompanied by a heartbeat. She didn't know why he had one if he was undead, but he said only his corpse form lacked a heartbeat, but since the form he usually took that looked like him while alive, he did have a heartbeat. She'd accepted this, finding it made sense.

They continued to lay down together like that, until they decided to return home. Julie and Rick got up, turned into bats, and flew back to their home.

Once they arrived, Julie got an idea and looked over at Rick. “A dance my love?” She asked, holding out her hand towards him.

He smiled at her and took her hand. “Of course B-Batty.”

The vampire couple walked into a room with a lot of empty space, and began to slow dance, with Julie leaning her head against Rick's chest.

Growing up upper class in Victorian society meant she'd been taught how to dance at a young age for dances, something the other upper class members did. So, Julie was pretty good at it, and had attended a few dances in her life, with her parents hosting a few as well. But since they died, she hadn't danced, until she and Rick got together. And now, dancing together was something they enjoyed doing. It was quiet, peaceful, and they could be close.

Of course, Julie had to teach Rick how to dance, and he was still learning, but doing better than when he first started.

When they finished, they shared a kiss while they're hands were interlocked.

“You were wonderful.” Julie praised.

“So were you.” He smiled.

Thinking about how much her life had changed since turning into a vampire, Julie remembered all the rules and etiquette. Pretty much everything had rules that were expected to be obeyed: how to talk, how to sit, how to eat and more. She hadn't been allowed to leave her home without an escort at one point, due to being unmarried, and dinner parties were a nightmare.

Julie had also always loathed the rules surrounding courtship, being the romantic she was, she didn't like the idea of not being able to marry who she wanted, and all the other rules surrounding it.

The world she came from wasn't one she belonged in. Even as a child, she had felt alienated and different. She had no friends, and while she had longed for love, no suitors captured her interest, nor any other male that had attempted to woo her. People thought of her as strange and never paid much mind to her, in their eyes, she was nothing but “an odd red-haired girl who's too quiet and needs a husband.” It didn't help that her parents were disinterested in things like balls, and never really did anything at them except hoping Julie found a husband. They'd also only ever owned a few servants who didn't even stick around long. Julie and her family were really all seen as odd and strange, only tolerated for their wealth.

Things only worsened when her parents died. Julie ended up secluding herself, never attending anything she was invited to, and eventually, she was simply left alone. She didn't have anyone but her.

Until she met Rick that is.

Julie finally felt like she had a place in the world, one where she could be with a man she loved, and without rules or etiquette everywhere. Holding his hands and having him close was a reminder of how glad she was to be with him. And being a vampire meant this life would never end, and she was happy with that.

As for what they would do next, something came to Julie's mind, and she blushed. “I have a surprise for you Rick.”

“You do? Do I need t-to cl-close my eyes or something?” He asked.

She giggled. “No, I'll be in our room and tell you when I'm ready okay?”

“Okay!”

Rick watched as Julie zoomed off into their room, and thought about what the surprise could be. He wasn't too sure though, but he was excited nonetheless.

Soon, he heard her call his name and opened their bedroom door. His jaw dropped when he saw the sight before him: Julie in sexy black lingerie.

“J-Julie?”

She smiled and walked up to him, giving him a kiss on the lips. When their lips parted, she could see he still looked shocked. “I take it you like my surprise?”

“Where did you even get that?” He wondered.

“Took some old lingerie and made some adjustments. I thought you would like it, and I'm glad to see you do.” Julie explained, laughing a bit at the end.

Rick was speechless for a moment, until he finally snapped out of his flustered state and grabbed onto her. This caught her off guard, and she stared at him with a blush on her face, before he roughly kissed her and let his hands roam her body.

“R-Rick..” She moaned, but was cut off with another kiss.

He growled and ripped off her lingerie before shoving her on the bed. She barely had time to respond, as he began to eat her out not long after.

“Rick! Uh yes!” She cried out, gripping onto his hair.

He continued to lick, letting his hands grip onto her thighs until he got her to cum.

He then pulled away, and Julie noticed the large bulge in his pants. She blushed at the sight, excited to feel his cock inside of her.

Snarling, Rick quickly shoved himself in her warmth, moving fast and fucking hard.

Julie moaned, her mind a blur as he fucked her. She hadn't expected him to be like this, but guessed the sight of her in the lingerie caused it. Not that she minded, she loved when he was rough and aggressive with her, it was very exciting for her, knowing she could make her lover act like this.

She then felt him cumming inside of her and gasped, before he swiftly pulled out, her body shaking from getting fucked so hard.

“You are mine.” Rick growled. “All mine.”

“Yes..I'm all yours...forever..” Julie replied breathlessly.

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

Rick managed to cool off a little later, and noticed the sun was starting to rise.

“Guess this means it's time to go to bed him Batty?” He asked, a grin on his face.

She nodded, putting on her nightgown. “Indeed it is Moonlight.”

They both headed into bed together, and snuggled up next to each other, with Julie resting her head on Rick's chest.

Being together made them feel content and happy. Rick had been alone for so long, wanting death so badly, but being able to die; he didn't feel like he had a reason to live, until he met her. She gave him the reason to live, and to be happy. Without her, Rick felt like he would've remained depressed, lonely and suicidal.

But now, he was happy with life, every night was filled with joy and love, being with the woman he loved the most in the world. Rick felt so lucky to have her in his life. He knew that no matter what, he would always have her by his side, loving and supporting him, being a shoulder for him to cry on when he needed one.

And no matter what happened in their future, they would be ready to face it, together.

[foreverandalwayshttyd]

It’s Hard to say Goodbye

Soooo, I wrote this in like 10 min..... A little nervous since this is my first fanfic I’m sharing on tumblr (there’s more of these on ffnet) but eh, don’t be too harsh hehe;) Enjoy this little emotional piece of sadness...

......

It's crazy how fast life moves. One minute your flying on top of your best friend through the clouds, with not a care in the world. The crisp dew filled breeze rustling through your hair, as you contemplate on your newest discovery. The feeling of a nice worn out saddle beneath you, and the intense grip around the handle bars.

And the smiles. The nice contagious smiles that make your heart melt in happiness. The laughs. The constant jokes, the endless teasing, and the loads of fun riding your dragon.

The soft sides in your friends. The amount of sentimental talks, emotional breakthroughs, and little quarrels that seeped into their time, made life all that more meaningful.

The wordless conversations. Not that they had a choice. Even though your best friend can't speak, his eyes and body can. They way his pupils enlarge when he sees you. The way he curls protectively around you when you begin to drift off to sleep. The feeling of his smooth scales beneath your callused palms. The worried croons he gives you when he's concerned about you. The little comforting nudges he shares when he sees tears spill down your burning cheeks. The amused warbles when you tell a funny joke. The feeling of wrapping your arms around his oversized neck, which you sink into when you seek comfort in hard times.

Hiccup Haddock never thought for a second that he'd have to say goodbye to all of this. Not even a millisecond. Sure, he knew they would all pass in the end, but not apart. He thought he and his best friend would live together forever. The feeling of loneliness tugged at his heart as he refused to accept it. No, not now. He couldn't give up his best friend.

But, a new feeling creeped into him. One that he had never felt before. Was it courage? Fear? Anxiety? Confidence? He had no clue. But for some reason, all of these emotions were mixing together in him since the first day he had met his scaly friend. They wouldn't be quite finished mixing until this moment. Only if he chose to accept it.

He looked up into the hazy blood orange sky, and stared longingly at the sea. They were coming, and he knew it. He had to protect his people. A chief protects his own. His father's words ringed in his ears, as he looked around at his anxious, broken villagers, now in a place that was so foreign to them.

People scurrying everywhere in a huge hassle. Dragons crooning worriedly towards their tear stained owners, as they let out wallowing sobs against their reptilian companions. He let out a shuddered sigh when he saw his blonde lover shaking her shoulders in sobs, as she nuzzled her crooning dragon. His other friends weren't doing any better. All sprawled against their dragons looking so weak and alone. The poor dragons had never looked so heartbroken and confused.

The children whined and complained to their parents, which wasn't helping the already emotional families. Hiccup had to look away. He just had too. His eyes would become to puffy and swollen if he didn't look away. He shifted his gaze back towards the sea, where the dragons would soon disappear to. He couldn't go with them. None of them could. This they knew, because Hiccup finally realized that they'd have to go their separate ways. For the good of both their kinds. No matter what, enemies would always be lurking around and it always brought danger to both the humans and dragons. So they had to go their separate ways.

An anxious, emotional croon swirled through his tingling ears. Along with a gentle comforting nudge to the shoulder. Hiccup bit his lip, as he closed his eyes, furrowing his brow. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't say goodbye. The nudges and croons continued and he couldn't take anymore.

Without warning, the broken viking chief whizzed around, and lunged towards his best friend. Hiccup buried his stifled sobs into his dragons chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat. He felt his dragon's croon vibrate as he wrapped his wings around his companion. For a long while, it was just the two of them. Their last embrace. Pressed against each other, recollecting their whole life together.

No more late night flights, gazing up at the stars above. No more exploring new lands with each other, or stumbling upon a new dragon or two. No more fighting by one another's side, or having each other's back. No more crazy stunts or inventions to tease about. No more people to convince about dragons being gentle creatures. No more bonding. It was over.

Toothless hesitantly unfolded his wings and let the exasperated boy crawl out of him. Hiccup continued to rub his eyes, making them blurred and red. But he didn't care. Neither did Toothless. He gently licked the side of Hiccup's face to help wipe off what seemed like rivers of tears. Hiccup slightly chuckled at the feeling of his best friends cold, wet and sticky tongue. For the first time ever, he didn't recoil back in disgust, for he knew he'd never feel this feeling again.

Toothless pulled back and hung his head low in grief. Hiccup picked up his dragons head in his arms and looked him straight into his watery eyes. "It's you and me, bud. Always." He softly whispered with a little choking sob stuck in his throat, as Toothless' pupils enlarged before dragons started taking to the air, along with louder sobs from the vikings.

Hiccup looked up to the dragons in the air, trying to take mental pictures of everything before it was all gone. He looked back at his best friends large green eyes, that reflected his own. They stared for awhile before the Light Fury came over and nuzzled Toothless.

Hiccup placed his hand atop her head, as she leaned into his touch. "Take care of my best friend. Don't let him get into trouble," Hiccup said with slight amusement, as the Light Fury crooned and her big sparkly blue eyes widened, as she shrieked. More dragons took to the air as they new her position next to the alpha.

Stormfly gave her sobbing companion one more affectionate nudge and croon before leaping into the sky. Astrid collapsed on her knees, as she watched her dragon fly away. She tried to brush her hair out of her face, as it stuck to her tear stained face. She glanced over to her auburn beloved, her heart aching as she saw him saying his final goodbye to his best friend.

Pretty soon, all of the dragons had taken to the sky. Only Toothless remaining, as they awaited their alphas command to start their journey. Hiccup sighed heavily and hugged his dragon one final time. "Thank you, bud. For everything. I'll never forget you. I love you, Toothless."

Toothless crooned sadly towards his rider, before Hiccup mouthed a 'go' to him. The dragon shrieked into the sky, as the dragons instinctually flew out towards sea. The Light Fury, Cloudjumper, and the other riders' dragons stayed put, waiting for Toothless.

Unexpectedly, Toothless licked Hiccup's whole body, leaving him sopping wet in his saliva. Hiccup softly chuckled as Toothless warbled and took to the sky, his new prosthetic tail flapping in the wind. Hiccup stared longingly as his best friend gave him one final glance, before he and the other dragons flew off into the horizon.

Every villager was quiet. Just muffled sobs, and a few final shouts of goodbye. Hiccup watched the dragons fly away sadly. Everything he had worked so hard to create was gone in an instant. His utopia had gone back to being just a dream instead of a reality.

His thoughts froze as he felt tender arms wrap around him comfortingly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw blonde strands of hair flailing in the air. He felt their head gently rest against his shoulder, as he felt her hot tears spilling against him.

He smiled softly and wrapped one arm around his blonde partner, trying to comfort her as best as possible. So happy and pleased that she was crying over the thing she had fought for so many years. On the other side of him, he saw his mother place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and squeeze his shoulder gently.

He had no idea how his mother was taking this. For twenty years, dragons was all she knew. She had rescued them, lived with them, discovered them, and even became part of their family. His heart fluttered slightly when she thought back to her previous statement before the dragons left. I'm not losing you again, son. You are my family and I wouldn't leave you for the world. Not after abandoning you for twenty years.

His friends circled him, as well as the rest of the village. They were huddled close now, as they watched the very thing they were known for fly away.

"Are you alright, son?" Valka's broken, but gentle voice asked the the weary chief, as everyone was anticipating his answer. Hiccup sighed, and looked up into his mother's lost and grief stricken eyes, as she gently stroked her son's rustled hair. One single tear streamed down Hiccup's cheek as he stared out into the ocean.

"Why is it so hard to say goodbye..."

[candy-corps]

Home Sweet Home

Jaal written by @mygardenofmuses ^-^

This plays AFTER Bruce and Jaal visited Andromeda. (we got inpatient lol)

Getting in touch with cold water makes you a woman, in touch with warm one a man. Have fun.

He'd missed that he could understand what people from far away talked about. He'd missed the food and he'd missed the day-and-nighttime cycle. He missed his family. He did not miss Magic Anons. "Jaaaaaal - !" Bruce called, 'his' voice sounding different now. He was wet, he was ... smaller? And he was ... a woman. Again.

"What's up, Bru---AAAHHHH!" Jaal screamed the moment he entered the room. Here he could see a much smaller bat... dressed in his mate's clothing? "Bruce... is that... you?"

Bruce pursed her lips. He screamed as he saw him! ... saw ... her? "We should have stayed on Andromeda ... " she said, adjusting her wings to cover her front. That felt weird. Did that mean ... he had to try on bras again? Nooo ... ! Bruce squeezed her eyes shut at the mere prospect. It was hard enough for him to get in a shirt ...

The behaviour was certainly similar. This had to be Bruce. Jaal approached carefully. "Are you alright? How did this happen...?"

Still pouting, Bruce opened her eyes again and looked at the grey bucket - a remain of the Anon. "I was cursed by one of the greyfaces. Usually they give you a time limit, but this one's just mean." She was wet all over. Bruce stuck out her tongue. Her clothes, fitting just fine just a moment ago, were now over-sized, damp and stuck unpleasantly to her also wet skin.

"Let's dry you up. I don't want you to catch a cold." Jaal guided her to the bedroom. "I can lend you some of my clothes if none of yours fit you. They'll suit you until we can get you something more fitting."

That made her smile again. As if she needed an excuse to want to try Jaal's clothes. First though, yes, it was better to get out of the clothes. "I think I can take something from Belle" Bruce suggested. She opened her wings and flapped them a little for them to dry faster. "I just don't know if I got the same bra size. This is weird" she admit, cupping his own breast. She wasn't used to that!

"Oh my stars..." Jaal looked away and covered his mouth. "You're doing that thing... with your chest..." From his voice, it was easy to tell he felt shy and slightly horny.

"Uh?" Bruce looked up at Jaal again to see him acting ... interesting. "What am I doing?" she wanted to know, very amused. She even still had her clothes on!

"You're making me blush." He half-whined, crossing his legs. "You look so very beautiful in this form and I'm not sure if it's OK for me to like you in this form too. Is it OK?"

He liked her like this, too? Bruce smiled softly. She was touched. "Yeah" she allowed. "I'm still me. And I need help. Get me out of this ... " she pleaded. As she tugged on the top of her shirt it wouldn't lift as usual. Just stick. There were buttons on the back that would let her roll it up as well, but ... someone had to unbutton them first. An honor that would go to Jaal. Bruce turned and looked over her shoulder at him; the tip of her tail waving.

"A-alright, I'll help you." Jaal's hands trembled slightly, showing his nervousness. These were good nerves, though - Bruce was OK with this, so he wasn't messing up. He began to unbutton her shirt. "Hopefully we'll find you something more comfortable soon..."

She could hear Jaal's heart beating faster. "I'm comfortable being naked when I'm just with you" Bruce let Jaal know. She raised her arms to let him peel her out of the fabric. The damp skin still didn't feel comfortable, but she herself was way better already.

"Can I hug you like this?" Jaal asked, helping her out of the shirt. "Maybe some... body heat could be comforting. Maybe?" Funny how this felt so new all of the sudden...

Oh, she knew where this was going. "I'd find it very comforting" Bruce assured; leaning back against Jaal's chest. He was dry. Bruce like that. Her trousers and underwear were too tight in this form. She opened these, too, and tried to wriggle out of them. Of course while incidentally rubbing Jaal's front.

"Bruce..." Jaal half-whined, half-moaned at her actions. His arms surrounded her in a tight embrace, his mouth landed on her neck and dropped a few butterfly kisses all over it. "You are... you are too beautiful..." He raised one hand to hold her face. "Should we go to the bed? Because I really want to... when you're up for it..."

So this was so far the standard procedure for when she got naked. Bruce hummed, very pleased with that reaction. Jaal still desired her and that was great. Bruce turned a bit and nuzzled Jaal as she stepped out of the trousers. "Yeah" she answered in a warm tone. "I want to." Her boob touched Jaal's chest as she touched his shoulder and her wing his arm.

"Good." Without thinking twice, Jaal scooped her into his arms and twirled around, laughing. Having her consent made everything much better. "You'll see... I have to so much I can show you!" Mainly tricks he used with his previous wife to make her scream - things he couldn't do with Bruce before, just because she didn't have any lady bits. But this changed everything!

"Am looking forward to see" Bruce gave back, sincerely. Jaal seemed so excited! She caressed his face and smiled to herself. "I haven't had the chance to have sex like this before."

"I did. A long time ago. Not to a bat lady, though - which makes this all new." Jaal giggled and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Gosh, you're so beautiful. Is this a dream?"

Bruce giggled and then looked at Jaal tenderly. "I love it when you get all charming" she admit, then licked Jaal's lip in return.

"Oh, I'm always charming. Or at least, I try to be." Jaal pursed his lips, amused by her words. He used his foot to kick open the bedroom's door, then used the other to close it once they were inside.

"What do you plan to do with me?" Bruce asked. There was something about being with alone with Jaal. He felt at peace and in good hands.

"First, put you in bed." He said as he did it. "Second..." He paused, taking in the view. His cheeks felt hot all over again. "What would you like me to do? Because I have ideas, but I'd like to know your preferences first."

Oh, Jaal. Bruce squirmed and laughed, glad to be here. She loved their bed. It was soft and smelled of Jaal. "Then you ... " she kept going, " ... show yourself. I mean, when you want to. And let me know how you treat the ladies. I've been curious for a while, but I'd always thought I'd have to watch instead to get a firsthand experience."

"Well, I'll be happy to show you." Jaal got up and undressed quickly. He was sporting a noticeable erection already, consequence of the teasing and the kisses. He climbed over her and kissed her hand. "I'll be very gentle. Just tell me to stop if I move too fast, alright?"

" ... Alright" Bruce replied, cupping Jaal's cheek with her hand, now smaller and more delicate. Her wing stretched to the side and over the bed before curling and grazing Jaal with its edge.

"Good." Jaal smiled and kissed her. His hands caressed her sides as his mouth moved to her neck, kissing and nibbling it gently. So far, there wasn't much of a difference to their regular sessions, but Jaal wanted to take this slow.

Bruce' tail curled around Jaal's leg, showing she appreciated that move. This was so far so pleasant, she found, humming and letting Jaal move as he liked. An unfamiliar sensation distracted her though - warmth pooling in her crotch, this time rather different from the arousal that he felt before. Was this normal? It felt rather nice ... Better would be any kind of contact, though. Making Bruce think: "Do we even ... have condoms?" Not that safe sex was what she wanted: She just had to think about how the thought of a lady joining them any soon was not on any of their minds.

Jaal froze and looked into her eyes. "I... I think we don't. Should I go buy some?" He asked, looking down. He was so hard already, going out with such a hard-on would be really awkward. Not to mention... what would he say if someone noticed? Would they call him a pervert?

Bruce huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to let you go anywhere" she made clear, tightening the hold of her wing on him. She licked him again and then had to smile. She had a thought, but it was absurd: "Do you wanna try for a baby?" she asked. After all ... "There is no harm in trying ... " She didn't think it was possible, but it was nice to think about.

Jaal's eyes went wide. "I guess we could try, but... how long does this magic thing last? Would it last enough for you to carry a child?" He feared getting his hopes up, just to see that dream crash and burn later. Though she was right. There was no harm trying...

Hmm ... what did the greyface say? "I turn back when I get in touch with hot water. I can do with sand baths." Always could. Bruce stretched beneath Jaal in hopes to look attractive. Her crotch felt so warm that she parted her legs and let one brush Jaal. "Just ... " Oh, come on! She was so horny.

"Then you only have to avoid cold water for a while." Jaal smiled and leaned forward, kissing her nipples. He cupped her breasts and began to squeeze then gently, watching her reaction.

"*Mmmmh ... *" Bruce moaned. "I can get used to that, yeah" she let Jaal know, smiling at him.

Jaal smirked and sucked on her nipples as he kept squeezing her breasts, a little more roughly now - just squeezing enough so all the fast was squished in his hands without causing actual harm.

Okay, good. Okay, good. She was starting to like her boobs, after all, or at least for as long as Jaal was kneading them. This time Bruce purred, lovingly and horny, at her partner in response. She kept her eyes on Jaal, watching him.

Jaal kissed her chest again and released one of her boobs. That hand traced her belly, caressed her bellybutton and moved to her core, where certain wamrth awaited him. Jaal slid a hand between her legs, exploring carefully her folds.

"Ohh." Oh, that was ... interesting. And good! Bruce parted her legs more, letting Jaal touch her willingly. She blushed, not used to create her own lube right there. It was a little bit embarrassing as he noticed Jaal ... notice. Bruce kissed the top of Jaal's head and pet him.

Jaal searched for her clit, hoping female bats had one just like human women. When he found it, he noticed she was kissing him. He looked up and pressed a kiss to her lips, as his fingers started to tease that soft bundle of nerves.

It was so nice that he kissed her. And kept touching her, too. Despite the initial embarrassment, Bruce was really starting to like this... And then she was really starting to like this. "Ah - " she moaned, eyes wide. Pleasure like this she was only used to when Jaal teased his prostate. Not meaning to, Bruce parted the kiss, short on breath for no good reason. "Yeah." Yeah, that was good. Jaal could keep doing what he was doing, pretty please. Bruce felt more warmth pool between his legs. She was getting wetter but for now she won't care about it.

"You like this?" Jaal asked, just for confirmation. Given her body language, he guessed she was enjoying this, but asking never caused harm, right?

"A lot" Bruce affirmed. She purred, encoraging Jaal to continue; and rolled her hips forward and back to get the most friction out of the touch.

"Good, good." Jaal began to descend. His mouth left kisses over her stomach and belly, drawing a line with his tongue.   He looked up to her, asking silently if she'd allow him to lick her down there, too.

Bruce watched Jaal wander without thinking about it - too distracted from the pleasure Jaal caused her. So as he looked up Bruce' ears leaned aside in confusion. And then she blushed, her mouth agape. He did not want to seriously - "I'm so close as it is - " she warned him panting, indicating the space with a gesture. When Jaal was okay with it, she was okay with it. She just wanted to say.

"I'll take that as a yes." Jaal smirked and went for the kill. He licked gently her folds, basking in her flavour. Sweet, maybe a little musky, similar to the same flavor he knew so well. His tongue teased her clit and descended over her sex, searching for her entrance. Maybe he could play in that place, too...

"Yes." Yes, indeed. Bruce moaned aloud as Jaal's tongue licked her clitoris; then hummed as he kept going. It was hard to stay in place instead to squirm, but she tried to fight it, really wanted to feel more of him. "What are you - Oh ... my ... " That was ... dirty. And so good. Bruce moaned with her eyes closed; lying on the bed and grasping the sheets.

The noises she made made Jaal's heart soar. He buried his tongue deep in her entrance, tasting her fluids and breathing her in. His hands caressed her legs, coaxing her to open up, nice and wide for him. The his thumb returned to her clit, teasing it. He shook his head slightly, so his tongue hit more spots deep inside her.

Oh, that was it. "Aaah - !!" Bruce screamed in pleasure. Something in her tensed an then released itself in bursts of warmth. The now batwoman blushed even harder, feeling her walls move against Jaal's tongue, but yet purred out for him to keep being nice. With that, her leg brushed against him and her tail curled around him from the other side, too.

Jaal could feel her fluids flooding his mouth. He smiled and licked all of it,  taking great delight in the fact this flavour was all his, at least tonight. When he was done, he climbed over her and kissed her neck. "Are you ready for more?", he purred in her ear.

Oh, but of course. She felt empty now with the intrusion gone, actually. Bruce whimpered and pulled them closer together with the help of her wings. She hummed in delight as she felt Jaal's cock grind against her now favorite woman part.

"So eager..." Jaal chuckled and jerked himself off a little, just to ensure his cock would be warm and nice for her. With that thought in mind, he introduced the tip slowly in her body, giving Bruce time to adjust. "How's this? Does it hurt...?"

It was ... unusual, but no, it didn't hurt. "I'm fine" Bruce promised and gave Jaal a kiss. It was cute of him to ask. Now ... How to do this? Squeeze - ? No. No, no. Relax. This was just Jaal! "Keep going" Bruce instructed, placing more kisses on Jaal's skin.

"Alright, I'm going in..." Jaal lifted carefully her hips and pushed all of his cock deep inside her. Nice and slow, so she could feel every inch. At the same time, Jaal left her kisses on her neck, hoping to distract her from any possible pain she could feel.

"Aaaah .... " Bruce held onto Jaal as he filled her; thankfully going slow so she could adjust. He stroked against something good while he was at it, easing the task to relax and let him in. Her moan turned into purring once Jaal had stopped moving for now. Bruce' fingers, now a little softer than they'd been before, brushed over Jaal's back; having him know he did well.

Her purring pleased him. Jaal purred back and began to move, letting her feel everything he could give and more. Sometimes lazy sex was just as good as the fast kind. Jaal found it so, as he thrusted into her depts, setting up a slow pace for now.

Bruce' hold tightened as Jaal started thrusting. She just let him do; amazed by the feeling of his dick deep in her. She panted. "So good. Jaal." What was he doing to her? Bruce' whole lower region was tingling. The friction of Jaal's cock in her got less the more he thrusted though and smoothened out over time. Blushing again, Bruce realized it must be because she was getting wetter for Jaal; her body producing liquid to make it easier on him to move in deep. She was getting close again; Bruce could feel it.

Jaal noticed it too. It seemed he was doing well, when he body was reacting so nicely. He leaned forward to kiss her, opening his mouth so his tongue could lick hers. Jaal squeezed her hips and lifted them a little so he could reach even deeper.  "Mmmh... Bruce..."

Bruce was just returning Jaal's kiss as she felt him push even further. Oh dear goodness. Right there, yes. Bruce' legs wrapped around Jaal, making it easier on him to hold the angle.

Jaal nibbled her neck,  sucking a bit. He didn't mean to leave hickeys, but it was tempting. His nibbled her shoulder as well, as his pace quickened slightly. The heat running past his hips was becoming more and more intense...

"Yes -" Bruce could only encourage before her body said the rest; the hug of her walls turning into a squeeze as she was orgasming. Jaal's nibbling had been the last drop missing; the prospect of biting while he was fucking her too sweet. "Hmmm..." Bruce hummed breathlessly, clinging on Jaal to keep him in deep.

When she squeezed, Jaal lost it. Sweet release came to him as he bit her a little more strongly, enough to leave a small mark framed between purrs and moans.  The purple alien would have collapsed right away if he didn't use his arms for support. "Mmmh, Bruce..."

Between great sex and being bit like that, Bruce was pretty satisfied. Yet she couldn't help herself to roll her hips, giggling slightly as she felt the extra liquid. "That's nice" she whispered, her orgasm slowly ending. Exhausted now, she looked at Jall's lips and then kissed them lovingly.

Jaal kissed her back, half moaning at her movements. She really knew how to please him...! Pulling back a little, Jaal caressed her head and petted it. "You're so good to me, my dear one."

"You're so good to me, too ... " Bruce replied, nuzzling Jaal's hand and then stretching. She'd like to have her throat touched, as well.

Jaal's hand descended to her neck and caressed it as he licked the spot he had nibbled earlier. He pulled her close for a hug and closed his eyes. "I could sleep like this..."

Bruce' reply was a purr - a more melodic one now that he was a woman, and way less deep. She'd be very okay with taking a short nap, or a long one for that matter. Jaal was warm and comfortable and made her feel so loved. She nudged him gently, trying to find a good position to rest a little better in.

Jaal pulled out of her slowly, mainly so Bruce could rest even better. Then he stretched his legs, simply lying by her side.  This was nice, and comfy... and kinda hot due to the summer temperatures. "Should I open the window so we can cool down a bit?"

Cool down? Bruce didn't think it was all too warm. And the prospect of Jaal leaving the bed so soon was just unbearable. So after thinking for a second, Bruce simply clung to him. Jaal was either dragging her along or not leaving at all.

Jaal gasped in surprise when she hugged him like that. He chuckled and petted her head. "Alrighty, I was just saying it in case you felt too hot." He kissed her forehead and hugged her. "I love you very much."

Bruce' hold relaxed ... a little. She liked hearing that. She placed a few soft kisses on Jaal's skin. Obviously, he had forgotten that she loved him, too. But Bruce didn't mind to give him a reminder.

Jaal let out a few pleased purrs and caressed the small of her back, then her face. "Thank you, my dear one. I'm... I'm so glad we're here. I'm the luckiest Angaran in all galaxy for having you by my side..."

Jaal earned himself a kiss on his lips for saying that aloud. "Are you warm?" Bruce asked then, slowly acknowledging that Jaal might not have wanted to leave her because he stopped to like her ... but because it may be too hot for him.

"Actually... yes. I'm so sorry. I'm actually afraid of burning you if I overheat." He whispered, almost as if it was a secret. "We Angarans are usually very hot already because of our electricity powers. Just a few grades more on the scale and we might become something akin to fire with skin... So I was trying to protect you, too."

Alright. "Let's go together" Bruce suggested, then kissing the corner of Jaal's mouth. "We can bring blankets" she suggested, " - and hang out at the window for a while." With that, she leaned up and looked down at Jaal while caressing him gently. She didn't mind to open a window. She did mind to be left alone so soon, no matter for what amount of time.

Jaal smiled and picked her up into his arms. Then he nuzzled her neck. "Sounds perfect. Where do you get all those awesome ideas, love?" He asked, then he pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Could you pick up the blankets? My hands are busy carrying you now." He laughed and nuzzled her again. When he felt this happy,  he hoped his displays of affection would rub on her the joy he felt.

Bruce purred for a moment, indeed happy as well. And sure thing, she could pick up a blanket for Jaal. Her wing helped to get the edge into reach; then she ruffled it up close. "I really liked you biting me" she confessed then, smiling at the memory.

"Should I do it more often?" Jaal asked, as he began to walk to the balcony. "I often worry about hurting you. I never know when it's too rough or not. This time, I was... exploring to learn more of what you like and not. Looks like I did it right~" He smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

Bruce curled up in Jaal's hold and rubbed herself against him. "I'd love that" she admit, still smiling. "Bites don't hurt me. Be left alone after ... " That did. Bruce kissed Jaal's shoulder, quietly hoping he would never consider to leave the bed without her again. Instead to keep talking, she purred at him softly and a little bit hurt.

"Oooh..." Jaal understood with that purr. "Sorry, I won't do that. At this point, I was just afraid of burning you. But you found a good solution." Jaal opened the window with one arm, and the cool air of the evening brought a well-needed chill to his body. He took a deep breath and smiled. "Aaah, this is so good. No more Angaran fires." He chuckled and purred back to Bruce, nuzzling her. "Are you feeling well, love? Not too cold, is it?"

Bruce nuzzled Jasl back. "I'm fine as long as you're here" she replied. She wasn't all that sensitive for too hot or too cool temperatures. "May I sit on your lap?" she asked, the tone of voice giving away how much she wanted to.

Jaal chuckled and nodded. "Sure. Just let me sit." He went to one of the chairs on the balcony and sat on it, then winked an eye to Bruce. "OK, I'm ready to have a my beautiful batwife sitting on my lap ~"

Jaal didn't have to say that twice: As soon as he allowed her, Bruce slid closer and into his personal bubble again. She sat on him with her back to him, hoping that they might watch a few stars. She enjoyed the feeling of his bare skin against hers. now they'd just ... have to spread the blanket ... to be covered and save.

Jaal loosened his hold a little so Bruce could settle comfortably onto him. Once she seemed to be comfortable, he picked up the blanket from her hands and spread it over them. "There. Now you won't get cold." He smiled and nuzzled her again. "It's too bad we almost can't see the stars from here."

"I don't mind." Bruce was in a blissful state right as things were. Nestled against Jaal, covered and a little bit sleepy. Besides: "The city's still there." It gave enough light.

"That is true." Jaal nuzzled her again. "Would you like to sleep here? Because I'd love to do so. No overheating danger, a beautiful view, my wonderful Bruce by my side... it's perfect."

It really was. Bruce could feel the breeze against her skin which gave a nice contrast to the warmth she felt as well. "I just want to be with you" she replied. That was all it took to make her happy. She took Jaal's arm and held it. It was comforting. Then she purred.

"Heh. I was thinking exactly that." Jaal purred back and wrapped his free arm around Bruce as well, holding her close. "Home, sweet home..."

[cjworthington]

The Spirit of Alola - Chapter 3

A Pleasant Ride Home

My mind feels fuzzy, and I try to pull myself out of the fog with a shake of my head. We'd been bumping about in the cab for a while now, but I still couldn't pull myself out of the exhaustion-fueled haze.

I'd thought about discussing my strange over-tiredness with Kabir, but I also think I might be okay after a good long rest. Besides, knowing him, he's probably noticed. My husband may be blind, but he sees more than most.

The move to Alola was long and more complicated than any move we had made before. However, that was to be expected since we were traveling across the ocean and not just a few hours on the land.

I had spent many sleepless nights the weeks before we had even started packing to ensure all the plans for our move were set firmly into place. I wanted to be certain that the time spent after the move was more productive than our last, which had been a disaster. Kabir offered his help where he could, but his strengths lie elsewhere. Coordination and planning are areas that I am well acquainted with.

Hopefully, this will be the last move we make, I think to myself. At least, that is the plan.

We had spent a significant amount of time hunting for the perfect home, both inside and out. Of course, we needed plenty of space for the Pokemon we used for research, but we also wanted to make sure that our own Pokemon would have plenty of room to explore and stretch their legs. There was also our need for a large area for our lab, plus spare rooms for any visiting family or friends. All this made the hunt for this very particular home a difficult one.

Hop purrs contentedly on my lap as we continue down the road, her rib cage rattling with the shifting noise and her warm body soothing, having placed her front half across my legs. I look down at her soft purple fur and gently rub my hand across it, encouraging a small mewl of pleasure from the touch. The Delcatty pushes her head up a bit to inform me that she would require more pats. I oblige with a smile.

Kabir sits next to me, with Tinsel on his left. As is typical, she is sporting her ever-present red PokeAssist vest with the words "Do Not Battle" written in white on a patch of black.

The blue Sylveon had her head out the open window, excitedly watching the world pass by. One ribbon was still wrapped affectionately around my husband's wrist, even though he did not need her for guide work at the moment. Her fluffy tail was thumping gently against his leg, and he smiled at her happy noises of curiosity and awe.

My husband's short, neatly combed hair was blowing in the gentle breeze as we rolled along. Though we are only in our late 20's, his rather difficult life had left his black hair peppered with gray streaks, and his face was lined with the stress of his life, aging him by nearly ten years.

As a result, it wasn't uncommon for strangers to address him with a respect reserved for a more senior person upon first meeting. We also had reactions of shock when they would learn that I, who looks younger, is married to that very same aged-seeming man.

While Kabir is tall and somewhat gaunt from frequent hospital visits, I am short and thin. Though they aren't very noticeable when I'm at rest, the muscles under my caramel-colored skin are hardened from my many years of martial arts training.

My eyes are a light brown, and my hair is long and black, usually left down, unless I was working on something. At those times, I would pull the hair tie off my right wrist to put my hair up in a ponytail or messy bun.

Kabir was faced forward; his head angled down slightly and, his sightless eyes, ever milky white, were unmoving. Even so, I could see his mind working as he paid careful attention to the world around us. His ears would hear things I can't, and his nose would smell scents that I would never be able to pick up in such small traces.

"How's your head?" I question, knowing the flight must have made it hurt.

"It's not too bad right now." My husband answers. "How are you feeling?

"Ready to be finished with this move." I joke

" Have you heard anything from the movers yet?" Kabir asks.

"Oh my! I haven't even turned my phone on yet!" I respond. "Silly thing of me to do."

"You must really be tired." He chuckles back, knowingly.

I grab my phone out of my pocket and switch it on. Watching as it powers up, I see there are no new messages or phone calls. I let Kabir know, then notice the battery is rather low, so I put it back in my pocket and look to my window to see a forest sprawling across the land outside.

Everything is a whiz of new sights as the Tauros swiftly pull the cab along the currently empty road. The trees and grass are green with splashes of color as I see every Pokémon and plant this island seems to hold rush past.

Pikipek and Wingull soar effortlessly through the sky. They swoop down with well-timed flaps of their wings, snatching up only the ripest fruits.

Bug Pokémon like Ledyba, Caterpie, and a pink and white small mantis-like creature I don't recognize, crawl along the ground and up the trunks of trees. A black Rattata with thick whiskers stops its scurry from its hole to stare at the cab as it speeds past.

I describe the scene unfolding before me to Kabir as best I can, though I know my words would never give the vibrant world any justice.

"I can't wait to get out and experience this new world!" He exclaims excitedly. "I want to smell the fruits and grass. Feel the bark on the trees. Dig my toes into the dirt. This place sounds amazing! Even the sun on my face feels different and more inviting."

His eagerness is contagious, and I find myself wanting to get out of the cab to explore with him.

We continue on like this for a while longer, descriptions filling the air as we speed down the road.

"Oh, I can see a city!" I call out to Kabir, sticking my head out the window, the rushing wind blowing my long dark hair into my face.

"That'll be Hau'oli city!" The cabby, Berns, calls back to us. "We're near to your home. You'll only be a walk down Route One to get to town, but you will be just far enough out of town to enjoy nature to its fullest. You really picked a fantastic location."

"That's precisely what we were hoping for," Kabir answers back, excitement showing on his face.

I see the town Berns was talking about growing larger. It was bustling. People and Pokémon make their way around the streets, stopping at the various vendors or walking into the many shops and restaurants. I start describing as much of the world around me as I can as the Tauros begin to slow down as we arrive in the town.

"We're entering the town just now." I describe. "There's a small Growlithe pup sniffing around some of the fruit stands. I think it's looking for food. Oh, but a sweet-looking older gal at a produce stand has given it some fruit. There are even more Pikipek in this town as well." I add, patting my husband's leg excitedly. "They are grabbing fruits from the stands here too, but the shopkeepers don't seem to mind."

"The food grown on this island is meant for everyone," Berns calls back to us over the patter of eight hooves on pavement. "We always have such an abundance of food because of the tropical climate."

"Have you ever had a food shortage?" I ask, leaning forward to see out the front of the cab.

"Of course." The cabby replies. "Even though our home seems perfect, we do experience natural disasters, just like anywhere else in the world."

"Well, what happens to the wild Pokémon when these kinds of things happen?" Kabir questions quizzically.

"We share even then, of course. This abundant food comes from the fertile land. Both people and Pokemon alike live on this island, so we return everything we receive back to it, even if times are rough."

"This place gets more and more wonderful with every passing moment." I sigh, sitting back and looking out my own window once more.

"Yes," Kabir says, echoing my pleasure. "It'll be the perfect place to set up and study."

A large building comes into view, and I start describing this new commodity to Kabir.

"That'll be the Pokemon School," Berns says after I finish. "Children from all over Alola come here to study Pokemon."

"Really? The building looks old, though. I thought your League only started not even two years ago." I say, tilting my head to one side and thinking about the Schools from our old home of Johto.

"It did..." He sounds confused by the comment.

Kabir, catching on, explains. "Usually, Trainers challenge gym leaders to battles to earn gym badges. When they gather eight, they can enter that area's Pokemon League. The Pokémon Schools where we come from were established to help would-be Trainers bypass the long trek around the land collecting badges. If a Trainer chooses to attend the School, they can qualify that way to enter the League should they graduate."

"Oh, I see," Berns responds thoughtfully. "Well, that certainly is interesting. The School here is simply for learning about Pokémon and teaching the children other important life skills so they can pick a profession they enjoy when they get older."

I look over at the School again and see a group of children practicing with their Pokémon in the yard. "There's a Charizard, Eevee…and…oh, that must be a Tsareena." I pause as the cabby confirms my guess. "It's tall with magenta legs and body, a white midsection and face, and long green, leafy frills falling down the back of its head. What is that large blue and white Pokèmon?"

"Um," Berns pauses, glancing at the schoolyard. "Oh! That's a Primarina."

I describe this one to my husband as well.

"You know, you two should think about teaching a class or two at the School. I bet Principal Oak would be more than pleased to have a couple of overseas Professors as guests." Berns comments afterward.

"Yes!" Kabir responds eagerly, sitting up at the comment. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. It would be so much fun." He turns his eager, sightless eyes towards me and continues.

"I wonder if he would allow us to sit in on a few classes as well. I would love to see what the education system is like here." He reaches his hand out in front of him, and Tinsel flops onto his lap, shoving her blue head into his hand for a pat.

"Yes. It would be fun to teach and watch a class." I agree, reaching over to the affectionate Sylveon and giving her head a scratch as well.

"If you two catch me again, let me know how it goes. I've got a little one myself, though he's too young yet to be going to School." The cabby says. "But hey, you should come over once you have settled. I know the missus would be thrilled to have you over for dinner, and the little tyke would love to meet your Pokémon too."

"Absolutely, we will," I respond.

"It would be our pleasure," Kabir adds, smiling broadly.

We continue to travel on, with pleasant conversation interlacing with the descriptions of the sights. Berns throws his own knowledge in as well, kindly telling us names of the new Pokemon and giving us spans between certain places, like a popular restaurant, the Pokemon Center, and other useful shops from the distance of the town entrance.

When we finally come to a stop, he spends a few minutes writing down the information for us on a piece of paper and hands it over to me. "Sorry, I can't write that down in Braille for you, sir." He says, turning to my husband.

"Oh, no trouble at all. Sashi can transcribe it for me when I need it. Though I've been blind all my life, so I've grown to be pretty good at judging distances, and Tinsel here will be able to keep me on a straight path if my wife isn't around to keep me on track." Kabir responds conversationally with a slight chuckle at his own words.

Then he continues, always eager to have a chat. "In fact, Sashi and I started our careers out as Pokemon Trainers, and we've traveled all over the world, usually walking or riding our Pokemon from town to town. So I'm actually rather used to foot travel."

He starts to end his monologue when I place my hand on his arm, though, ready to get inside. I could also tell Berns' was getting antsy to leave, seeing as he was still on the clock.  

"Thank you, though, very much for writing down all the information for us anyways. There's a lot to remember; moving to a new place and having the directions on paper will be very useful." He finally finishes.

"Oh, good. I'm glad to be helpful. I've written down my own number and address as well." He points to the mentioned areas on the paper for me. "If you guys have any questions or you just want to pop over for a visit, feel free. I've got to get back to the airport, though, so you guys have a good time getting settled. Don't be strangers!" He clambers back into his seat, then gives the reins a shake calling out a few words to his Tauros, and they begin to make their way back up the road.

Kabir, the Pokemon, and I all turn towards our new home.

It's wide and tall. So tall, in fact, that there are four levels to it. The main floor is flush with the ground at the front, then a second floor containing three bedrooms plus a sizable master's bedroom. Above that is the large, empty attic. Finally below all of this is the basement, which actually has a door leading to the backyard.

There's a fence around the entire property, broken in some places and completely missing in others. We'll be fixing it later, knocking down some areas and raising higher fences around the side that edges along the sea.

The property held several acres of land that stretched far back behind the house. I hadn't seen it more than what the pictures had shown me, and I was too tired yet to have any desire to go exploring. Even my ordinarily adventurous Delcatty didn't leave my side to check out the new place.

I stand and stare at our new home for a moment, but movement in the corner of my eyes catches my gaze. I look over and see a lithe feline shape. The body looks similar to that of a Persian, but instead of the golden fur, this one is grayish-black. The face is also strongly different, being rounded and puffy.

I watch as the cat Pokemon glares at us, hisses, then slips under the fence, sprinting towards the city we just left.

"Looks like we finally made it," Kabir says, reaching out and patting my arm. Tinsel's ribbon, as usual, was guiding his hand, but the movement was so natural with her help that you could nearly assume the young man was fully sighted.

"I don't know about you, but I could certainly use a nap." He continues, giving my arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Alright then, tough guy," I tease my husband, giving him a gentle punch on his arm. "Let's get inside before we fall asleep standing out here."

We head inside, drop everything on the empty living room floor. We wrap ourselves into our sleeping bags like a pair of Metapod, wriggling around on the ground until we find a comfortable position on the hardwood floors. Hop and Tinsel snuggle up between us, and we finally begin to drift off.

[romanssippycup]

The Loganfly’s Tied-up Predicament

This is for @logically-asexual and their butterfly Logan artwork that was absolutely stunning! The Loganfly in this fic isn’t exactly like the one portrayed. In this fic, Logan actually shapeshifts into an actual butterfly with the same color of the wings though. Anyways I hope you enjoy. This only took me an hour to write, but it was fun to make. 

Taglist:  @mewsicalmiss @here-to-vent @anonymous-snake @cup-of-blue @storytellerofuntoldlegends @cookieartcannon @thagrinbery @ts-sideblog @protecterofalltheaus @pasteries-and-portugal@justanotherpurplebutterfly@remmythepegasis @leesacrakon @kitsuneprideleader @fancifulfox @dolphin-squirrel @evilmuffin @petunia9402 @greymane902 @we-get-it-youre-adorable @withoutfandomsiamnothing @irrelevantbutfabulous @allmycopshowsarecancelled

Can be considered Logince. Doesn’t have to be.

Warning: Accidental loss of clothing.

It was a stupid mistake on his part, but one he couldn't have easily controlled even if he wanted to. Logan knew the consequences of his actions, but appariently his precious necktie had taken precedence over his well being-er-more like physical being.

Well he couldn't deny his state now. In an attempt to retrieve his stolen necktie from Roman's room, Logan had took a potion from Roman's collection, analyzed it, and applied it to make him turn small. It seems he had forgotten to read the fine print because what had meant 'small and flight powers' to Logan meant "shapeshift into a butterfly" to the potion.

There was nothing the Loganfly could do about it now but somehow figure out a way to sneak into Roman's room, take his tie, and sneak out. After much flapping of the wings, and the general fickle attitude of an actual butterfly, the Loganfly finally set out on his quest.

Gracefully flying under the door of his room and into the hallway, he did his best to make the least amount of noise as possible.

But it was just his luck that Virgil happened to be walking in the hallway directly towards him. Thankfully, Anxiety was looking at his phone and not directly at him. With a swift stroke of his wings, he shot over the darker aspect, gently exploring the many possible ways he might do a loop-de-loop in the air. He glanced back satisfied to see Virgil wasn't paying attention, but he had looked away from his flight path for too long, because he flew straight into a bewildered Roman's chest. SMACK!

He stabilized himself mid-air from the impact in an attempt to get away but was quickly caught by the prince's fingers, the lacy wings held gently in between the digits.

"Well Hello! What are you doing outside the imagination scape, little friend? My you are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. You must have slipped out! No matter I shall put you back tomorrow."

The Loganfly panicked, moving every which way in order to free himself of the grip. His panic only rose when Virgil turned around after hearing Roman's voice.

"Whats the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? Is it another frog prince?"

Roman's face flushed. "No Virgil! It is not and Its none of your business." The Prince said as he quickly hid the Loganfly from view and turned to walk into the Loganfly's initial destination: Roman's room.

"Sure. Whatever you say." Virgil shrugged and continued walking into the living room.

As Roman opened the door, immediately the Loganfly spotted his precious necktie sitting on one of Roman's armor stands. In another vain attempt of escaping, Loganfly continued to struggle. Roman, noticing how panicked the tiny creature was in his delicate grasp, took compassion and carefully lowered the Loganfly into a medium jar. Setting it on the nightstand next to his royal bed, he began to punch holes in the lid as to not let the little Loganfly suffocate.

Thankful of the prince's release, Loganfly shook his wings violently and directed his full attention to the blue necktie. Once Roman put the lid on, he knew the only way he could escape was by breaking the glass. He would have to some how get Roman distracted for a considerable amount of time.

He carefully stood with all six legs in the middle of the jar just staring at Roman as the prince polished his boots. It took a minute for the prince to notice; his awareness being almost as dull as his footwear.

"Ah! I see you are interested in what I am doing." The Loganfly really wasn't. "Why I'm polishing my boots so they sparkle like my smile. Oh and my apologies about the jar. Do not worry! I shall treat you kindly! As a dashing prince, I treat everyone I meet with kindness!" Had Logan been human he would have scoffed so hard. But, he had gotten the prince to go on a tangent and talk about himself, thus giving him an opportunity to formulate his plan.

After much consideration, and Roman's unnecessary self-righteous chatter, the Loganfly began to bump into the side of the jar closest to the edge of the table, silently hoping each soft tap didn't alert the self-indulging prince of his motives.

After several attempts, the jar was now on the edge and with one final impact, the jar fell with a crash making the prince jump a mile. He whipped over to see a now freed Loganfly flying directly towards the necktie.

"Wait what!?" Roman hopped to his feet and watched it take a hold of the large strip of clothing, struggling to carry it towards the door. Roman laughed heartily knowing there was no way the butterfly would make it past, that is until Patton opened the door.

"Heya kiddo! Dinner's read-oh?!" Patton only stared as he watched the Loganfly whizz past his head and back out into the hallway, carrying the tie that was easily five times his size.

Roman's smile dropped and he quickly chased after the Loganfly leaving a confused Patton standing in the doorway. As soon as he spotted the Loganfly in front Logan's room, a white light enveloped the entire hallway blinding the prince for a solid 30 seconds. He only gained vision enough to see the door to Logan's room quickly close as soon as it had opened. With a scowl on his face, Roman quickly rushed it and followed in. "LOGA-" But his anger was turned into utter shock as the human version of Logan stood in front of him, now completely undressed holding the necktie in one hand.

"I appreciate you think of me as a ‘beautiful creature’ Roman, but perhaps you should admire me when I'm more...properly dressed." The logical side smirked directly facing Roman, soaking up the splendor of the prince's now pale face. And just like a streak of lightning, the prince had left closing the door as quickly behind him. Satisfied with his revenge on Roman, the logical aspect chuckled to himself as he got dressed and readorned his necktie. He was glad to be wearing the signature article of clothing once more.

[writingloveletterstilshefell]

Love Doesn’t Discriminate (Part IV)

Word Count: 3637

Authors’ Note: Hey guys! This is part 4 of the fic, and we are happy to be sharing it with you. Also, up until now, we’ve been updating pretty much weekly, but are going to be taking a short break from LDD due to work and school stuff. We’re planning to be back with another new part in three weeks or so, but have fun with this until then!

Part I Part II  Part III

Pippa had been watching the small rescue party for a couple of weeks when she started to notice how close they were getting to the castle. One of the first things she had done after Jefferson had managed to stumble his way home was restore the tree that had fallen over and revealed the secret road to his and Y/N’s eyes. She couldn’t have a brute of a man and his sidekick undermine everything she had done to teach the spoiled Prince how to love.

“The old man is insane, we’ve been looking for the girl going on a month and we haven’t seen head nor tail of her,” Daveed muttered to Oak, who was standing by his side watching the old man deconstruct before them whenever they came to where he believed the road to some beast’s lair was.

“Where is it? Please! Somebody must know what I’m talking about!” Jefferson was as close as he could be to the tree, his nose practically touching it. “This can't be real. Less than a month ago this exact tree was fallen into the road.”

“Are you sure we're not in the wrong place. We've been to twenty different places that you're sure are the one,” Daveed called, his back resting against a tree across the road. It was getting almost ridiculous. Every single day, Jefferson would run up to a tree, sure that it was where the road once was, and every single time he would mutter that it must be somewhere else before they moved on their way.

“The girl probably ran away, and he was too crazy enough to admit it to himself, so he came up with this crazy story.” Oak covered his mouth to attempt to keep in a laugh for the old man’s sake. It was his daughter they were talking about.

Pippa sat about a hundred yards away from the group, just far enough that she could see the group, but that they couldn’t see her through the thick vegetation. This search had gone on for far too long. It was time for it to be over.

Against a tree on the side of the path she knew they had to pass, she waved her hand. Once she was sure that what she had planned was settled underneath the tree like it had been sleeping, she arranged the cloth she had taken from you over it.

“That should do the job just fine.”

After Oak and Daveed had managed to convince Jefferson that there was no possible way that this particular tree he had stopped at had fallen over to reveal a hidden passageway, they decided to set up camp for the night.

They had to practically drag Jefferson from the tree and farther down the path. They had learned over the weeks that the only way to keep him from complaining all night was to move him away from the tree he had been fixating on all day.  It felt like they had gone over every tree along the way.

“Oh my God. Is that?”

Oak pointed towards a tree before turning away, not able to look anymore. Against the tree rested a dead body that looked as if it had been gnawed on by the wolves Jefferson said had chased him.

“Y/N!” Jefferson screamed, rushing over to the body. He kneeled down beside it in a patch of moss and cried.  He reached for a scrap of fabric lying next to him, and he knew it was her. The fabric matched the fabric he had seen a hundred times.

“Jefferson I haven’t seen any evidence that it’s her,” Daveed called, staying as far from the body as possible. Jefferson across the way held up the scrap of fabric, and when he recognized it, he felt like somebody had taken his bow and shot his heart. It couldn’t be possible. Y/N belonged to him. What would dare harm her?

“Well, we don’t need to look for her anymore.”

Watching from a branch at the top of a tree across the way, Pippa observed the proceedings and knew that none of the three believed that there was any way you were still locked in a castle.

Daveed and Oak were trying to figure out whether to find a way to carry your body home, while your poor father was hugging what was left of you to his chest.

In a moment of silence, Daveed took advantage of the stillness and broke down. It wasn’t fair. You were supposed to be his wife. You may not like him but he knew that he would have eventually won you over in the end. He had with everyone else.

You had been trapped in the castle for nearly a month, spending most of your time hidden in your room. Pippa had come to visit you on multiple occasions, bringing you books to read and making your time alone slightly more bearable. You had been forced to continue attending dinner each night with the prince; you had begun to eat out of necessity, even though you detested his presence. You both sat silently until you were allowed to return to your room. While you felt guilty, you had never attempted to find your way back to Lacamoire’s room, in fear of getting lost in the castle again. You were sure to ask Pippa about this the next time she showed up.

“Will you take me back to the room with the organ?”

Pippa stopped flipping through the book in her hands, her head turning towards you.

“The organ? Lacamoire? How did you find his room?”

“You walked right by it on the night we met, and I ended up going back there. But if I tried to find it again I would surely get lost.”

She continued to watch you as you explained yourself, fidgeting slightly as you waited for her response. You were surprised to see her smile back at you, setting the book down as she stood from her chair.

“Yes, I'll take you to see Lacamoire,” she said softly. “But you must never go back there on your own.”

You tilted your head in confusion as she led you to the door of your bedroom. You followed her out as she began to walk through the corridor.

“Why not?”

“It's in the West Wing. The prince would go mad if he found you there.”

“What's so special about the West Wing,” you asked, sprinting a couple of  steps to catch up with her. Since you had confined yourself to isolation in your room whenever possible, you hadn't taken the chance to explore the castle since you had run off that first night.

“It's where the prince resides the majority of the time. He has forbidden most people from entering.”

You went quiet as you walked through the castle with her, thinking about the prince. You hadn't spoken to him since he had thrown a bowl at you at dinner, and you had chosen to ignore his existence ever since. You looked around at your surroundings as you passed, trying to memorize the route for future use of you needed it. Finally, Pippa came to a stop in front of a familiar door, and both of you could hear voices from inside. You turned to thank her for bringing you, but she had already disappeared again.

You shrugged to yourself and pushed the door open, curious as to who was with the organ. At his base sat the beautiful tea pot you had recently learned was named Renee, along with the candelabra and a couple of other objects with whom you had not yet been acquainted. All their eyes moved to you as you entered.

“Miss (Y/N),” Chris greeted you warmly, walking over to where you lingered in the doorway. “How nice to see you out of your room for a change.”

You smiled at him in return; Chris had been nice to you each time you saw him, escorting you to and from dinner every night. You often heard him attempting to coax the prince into starting a conversation with you, to no avail.

“Ah, so you're the girl they've all been talking about!”

Your eyes glanced towards the floor at the sound of this new voice, and you found yourself looking at a moving statue of a lion carved from dark marble. It paced towards you beside Chris, it's head lifted to get a better view. Your smile brightened as you kneeled down to examine it.

“Yes, I suppose I am. My name is (Y/N). It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“I'm Anthony,” the lion responded, bowing his head politely. “I was the captain of the guard before-”

“Anthony,” Chris interrupted, cutting him off mid-sentence. You turned to look up at the candelabra as he stood over you.

“Before you were turned into furniture,” you inquired. “That's not exactly a secret; it's fairly obvious you were all human at some point. So what happened to make you all like this?”

They all stared blankly at you, Chris and Anthony backing away. The soft music Lacamoire had been playing in the background abruptly went silent as he responded to you.

“It is not our story to tell you. You'll have to ask the prince.”

“Because he's going to tell me everything,” you muttered sarcastically. “He doesn't speak to me as it is, I won't be going to him to learn anything.”

“He really isn't as bad as he makes himself seem,” another voice offered. “You only need to know him a little better.”

You looked at the object that had spoken, a little feather duster that fluttered by Anthony’s side. You found yourself captivated by the elegance of such a small object. The handle was carved like the head of a dove, with accompanying wings used to hold itself aloft. A small plume of feathers in the same brilliant shade of white hung from the bottom, floating in the gentle breeze that wafted with each flap of the wings. Upon being noticed, she drifted in your direction, her little head bowing to you much as Anthony had.

“I'm Jasmine by the way,” she chirped. “I can't believe I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you yet.”

“Me either,” you admitted softly. “You're beautiful.”

She dipped her head again, smiling kindly at you. If it was possible for her to blush in this form, you were sure from her movements that she would be. Anthony bounded forward again, lifting his head up to nudge her gently.

“Yes, she is, even without being human. But you should have seen her, (Y/N). She could outshine all the stars in the sky with a single smile. None of the nobles could ever match her beauty. But yes, she is as beautiful now as she ever was.”

“Anthony,” she squealed, fluttering down to nuzzle against his mane. “Stop, you're embarrassing me!”

You watched as the two of them laughed with each other, then stepped around them to approach Lacamoire where he sat. He looked over at you and grinned, beginning to play a quiet waltz.

“How kind of you to come by, Miss (Y/N). It only took you a whole month.”

“I'm sorry; I didn't want to get lost and was worried I could not find my way back.” Your cheeks flushed red and you ducked your head guiltily. You didn't think about the implications of your words until Chris spoke up again.

“And what changed your mind? If you were nervous about getting lost, how did you manage to get all the way here?”

You bit your lip and shifted on your feet. You tried to come up with a convincing lie, a sudden feeling of uneasiness washing over you when you thought of telling them about Pippa.

“Well… I drew out a map for myself, so I wouldn't get lost. I passed this room while I was wandering around after I first got here, which is when I met Lacamoire initially.”

“And what a lucky coincidence it was,” Lacamoire commented. “I am grateful to have made such a lovely new friend.”

You continued to smile as your stomach curled tightly, reminding you to feel guilty for having lied to them all.

“We are, all of us, very grateful to have you in the castle. It is a welcome change from being trapped here with only each other.”

You looked down at Renee as she spoke, hopping across the floor at your feet. She was smiling up at you, porcelain shining in the light from Chris’ candles. You tried to smile back, suddenly saddened by the memory that you were trapped here indefinitely. Your father's face appeared in your mind, and you began to wonder if he was managing without you. Without warning, tears began to spill down your face.

“I'm sorry, child,” Renee murmured. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

“It isn't your fault,” you whispered, your throat constricting. In the back of your mind, you noticed the music changing, taking on warm and soothing tones. Everyone else became quiet, knowing there was nothing they could say to make you feel better, since they had no way to help you. You supposed you would become used to being here at some point, but even after a month, it had not yet set in.

“I'm sorry,” you said after you had calmed down. “I didn't mean to break down in front of you all.”

“It is to be expected from time to time,” Chris comforted you. “If there was anything we could do to help…”

“You wouldn't be able to because of your master. I understand. I do not fault any of you for my actions. I chose to stay in my father’s place, after all.”

“You are very brave,” noted Jasmine, fluttering into view.

The others murmured their agreement.

“Perhaps something to lift your spirits,” Lacamoire suggested cheerily. He sped up the tempo of his playing, falling into a light-hearted melody that brought a smile to your face. You recognized it as a song your mother would sing for you when you were a little girl. Taking a seat on the bench placed in front of him, you listened intently as the music flowed through you, brightening your mood in a matter of minutes.

When he had finished the song, you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder. You turned your head to find Chris standing there. You were surprised to see that Renee, Anthony, and Jasmine had all vacated the room while you were lost in the music.

“I was just leaving, and wondered if you would like me to escort you back to your room?”

“That's very kind of you, Chris,” you replied. You took the hand, or rather, candle, attached to his arm and allowed him to help you up. “Thank you Lacamoire. Now that I know the way back, I will be sure to visit you far more often.”

“I look forward to your return, Miss (Y/N). Have a good day.”

You inclined your head in a polite gesture of gratitude before turning to let Chris lead you from the room.

“He's your friend, isn't he,” you asked softly, your voice echoing through the empty hallway. Chris turned to look at you as he continued to walk, the flames at the end of the wicks of his candles burning the tiniest bit brighter.

“Lacamoire?”

“No, the Prince.”

Chris looked away from you as he exhaled, his breath collecting in a deep sigh. Your head tilted slightly as you watched him, lengthening your steps to keep up with him.

“He was. Well, is, really,” he corrected himself. “We have been friends since we were boys.”

“So, what is your place in the castle? I've never thought to ask before now.”

“To be honest, I don't have a place in this castle. The prince’s father took me in after my mother died, raised me as his own. Although I knew there was never any expectation of a seat on the throne for me. I was just glad to have a home, and a brother I could depend on.”

“I had no idea,” you whispered, an ache burrowing its way into your heart.

“How could you,” he asked in return. “You have only been here a month, and although everyone seems to like you, no one has spent much time speaking to you. You must be very lonely.”

“It's not so bad, I suppose. But everyone seems so friendly; why have you all been avoiding me so completely?”

Chris paused for a moment, considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. He came to a halt in front of your door and made his decision as he pulled it open for you.

“The prince requested we keep our distance,” he replied honestly. He continued to look into your eyes, even though it was evident he was ashamed of the command his prince had given him. You could not help the frown that appeared on your face, but you immediately forced it into a small smile for him. It wasn't his fault, after all.

“Well, thank you for returning me to my room, Chris.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss (Y/N). I hope you have a lovely evening.”

You managed to hold your cordial smile for him until the door was closed behind you. Not even a moment later, your smile had fallen. You flopped down onto your bed, staring idly at the ceiling as you thought over his words. Why would the prince demand such a thing of his servants, when he knew you would be suffering so detrimentally? How could such kind people still serve him so faithfully when he behaved so cruelly, despite their affirmation that he had been a good man before his transformation? None of the answers you could come up with left you feeling satisfied with your conclusion.

After nearly half an hour of inward debate, you pushed yourself up from your bed and slunk over towards the door. Opening it just a crack, you stuck your head into the corridor to look around. With no one in sight, you slipped out as quietly as you could manage. You began to sneak back towards the West Wing, your anger and frustration fueling your confidence. If the prince was going to continue to treat you so poorly, then you saw no reason to heed his wishes to stay away.

You traced your steps back towards Lacamoire’s room. You noticed the door was closed as you passed it, though you could still hear a melody trickling faintly out into the corridor. You paused for a moment to listen, the sorrowful chords surging through you even at such a quiet volume. Tearing yourself away, you continued to pass doors until you came to the end of the hallway. Taking the passage to your left, you stepped into a long hall bordered by suits of armor on either side. You could have sworn they were staring at you as you passed them, the pervasive feeling of eyes on your back ever present.

You began to rush down the remainder of the hallway, a sudden need to get out of their line of sight taking over you. Turning down into another corridor, you were relieved to find this one mercifully empty, lined with doors. You wandered down it for a few moments before beginning to test each of the doors. You wiggled the handles on each one, but to your annoyance, they were all locked. You were just about to give up on your exploration when you finally found one that swung open.

You took a few steps inside, looking around at the tattered remnants of what once was an elegant study. There was splintered wood and shards of glass covering the entirety of the floor; you stepped around the largest piles of debris, but could still hear it crackling beneath your shoes. Your attention had been caught by a shredded portrait that hung on the wall, you eyes tracing over the deep claw marks that scored the canvas. Your hand reached up, delicately grasping a section of the torn painting and lifting it, hoping for a glimpse of the picture underneath. When pieced together, you got the image of a handsome face.

Long brown hair the shade of deep ash framed exquisite brown eyes. As you looked at the section of the portrait, you couldn't help but feel that you had seen those eyes before, but at the moment couldn't place them in your mind. Eventually, you pulled your hand away, allowing the canvas to fall back as it had been where it was torn. It was only then that your focus moved to the table that sat in the center of the room.

You marveled at the blood red rose that floated just behind a case of glass. As you stepped closer to it, you noticed the enchanting glow that emanated from within the flower. Your mouth fell open in surprise as you looked over it. Fallen petals lay blackened on the table beneath the rose like they had been scorched by a flame after they fell. There were very few left on the rose itself.

Reaching the table, you leaned closer to further examine the flower. You were close enough to see your breath creating a small cloud on the glass, and stretched out a hand to touch it. You had just placed a single finger upon it when you heard a rush of air behind you. A low growl rumbled through the room, deep enough to feel in your bones. You sucked in a sharp breath but didn't dare turn around.

“What in hell are you doing in my study?”

Authors’ Note: Come tell us what you think about this part of LDD. We love feedback and we are always happy to get asks from you guys.

With much love,

Zoe and Cass

Tags: @hamlltvn @fandomsinabookshelf @secretschuylersister  @plamspringsdancingontables @awesome-wow-imagines @superwholockbooknerd526 @pixel-pisces @fly-f0rever @hamwriters