#four-tails cloak

[ct-1477]

[98752-blog]

super scary pt2

TW: Anal, coercion?, public fondling, public orgasm, tail pulling, thigh riding,

The bar was a cacophony of sound, low lights and a sea of colors and chaos.

It wasn't hard to spot your boys, tucked in the back of the bar, right by the washrooms, a wide view of the whole room.

What surprised you was the costumes they were sporting and even in your semi-delirious state you were baffled.

Your captain was sporting a phantom of the opera mask, dark cloak falling over his shoulders, overtop of the crisp suit he wore.

Gaz was nearly looking like himself, red jacket over an England football jersey, plaid trousers but his neck and hands were adorned with golden accessories.

The one that shocked you the most was your lieutenant, donning a denim vest over a black shirt, spikes atop his shoulders, a red feathery mohawk protruded from his mask, and he had even tied a red bandana around his bicep, the fabric flexing when he reached for his glass.

"Took you two long enough, thought you'd keep us waitin' all night." Ghost rumbled, taking a swig of his bourbon. You couldn't stop staring at him, only jerking in surprise when Soap pulled you onto the bench, your core and ass pulsing from the sudden movement.

A fresh wave of slick trickled down your thighs and you ducked your head in embarrassment, praying to the Gods that your squadmates wouldn't notice.

"Sorry, Lt. Our lil medic had a bit of an issue with 'er costume - couldnae quite figure i' out but I helped. Ain't tha' righ' birdie?" Soap nudged you conspiratorially, you scowled at him, heat rising beneath your cheeks, you could feel your heartbeat in your cunt - and having four pairs of eyes on you certainly wasn't making things more bearable.

"I didn't want to come." You admitted, frown marring your face.

"You lost a bet." Ghost surmised, assessing your reaction instantly. You nodded in defeat, shifting in your seat when the plug pressed against the sensitive spot inside you. You could barely think, could barely breathe - the conversation was carrying on without you, which suited you perfectly, but you needed release, just a little scratch.

"Soap-", the pressure from sitting to standing had you gritting your teeth, hand reaching out to snatch his arm.

"Come with me to get more drinks." No room for argument in your tone, he shrugged when all eyes turned to him, scooting out of the booth and following behind dutifully.

"Doin' alrigh' bonnie? Lookin' awfully heated there." When you both finally reached the bar.

"And who's fault is that?" You seethed, eyes narrowing at his faux innocent expression. He smiled coyly, eyes half lidding when he spied the way your chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Och, dinnae flap, wee one - jus'a coupla hours and ye can work i' off teh yer hearts content." He leaned in, breath warming your ear further.

"Could go fer a quickie if yer real desperate." You squeezed your eyes shut when someone bumped into you from behind, jostling your tail up your ass even more. You hissed quietly, a whine slipping out, Soap pressed himself to your front, head dipped low to speak more filth in your ear - he was all you could see, all you could hear - the loud music drowned out in the sweet lull of his brogue.

"Could jus' take ye in the back, would only need a minute b'fore yer gushin' over ma fingers." You bit your lip, his lips grazed your forehead and you looked at him through your eyelashes, the red hood covering his head, hiding his mohawk, casted a shadow over his gaze - pinning you in place. You sucked in a breath, churning blue waters; a thunderstorm waiting to happen, if you looked away you would be sucked back in, you would drown.

"W-we can't risk it. They'll know..." You whimpered, thighs gently pressing together to abate the hunger licking you in your gut. He smirked, lips pressing to your brow.

"Big ba' wolf, not so ba'. More like a wee pup." He crooned, near mocking. You couldn't bring yourself to retort, at some point you had slipped so close to Soap his thick thigh had come in-between your legs, pressing up against your cunt, just barely grazing the anal plug.

Lost in your haze you barely registered someone coming up right behind you, and tugging on your tail - heat lapped at your insides, you gasped, a moan leaving your throat, the motion sent you jerking into Soap, placing even more pressure on your already sensitive clit. Two sets of hands steadied you as you keened, an orgasm tearing through you, making you stumble.

"Fuckin' 'ell," you heard behind you.

Oh no, oh no, no, no, no

"Ghost," You whined, his warm hands shifting from your waist to your hips. You tipped your head, gaze looking upwards - his dark brown eyes were nearly black, brows lowered behind his mask. Fuck you must have looked like a sight, hair messy, face glistening and mouth agape, desperately trying to breathe through your post orgasmic daze, while your hips were softly rocking back and forth.

"Thought you lot were pickin' a scrap. Looks like I was wrong." Heat curled once more in your cunt, he hadn't taken his hands off you, in fact, he hadn't even looked away - his darkened eyes pinning you in place.

"Innit she jus' tha cutest, Lt.?" Soap said, mouth stretched in a grin, Ghost hummed behind you, eyes dancing over your features before rising to meet Soaps stare.

"Prettiest girl I ever seen." Ghost agreed, you trembled in their hold - the praise dripping down your legs in near rivulets, soaking through Soap's pants..

"Should sho'er how pretty she is." A set of hands drifted down your body, hands gently prying your cheeks apart, something thick pressed itself into you from behind, the rough material doing nothing to hide the size and hardness.

"Does this pup follow orders?"

"Guess we'll find out, Eh, L.t?"

For my muses: @shotmrmiller , @charliemwrites, @ghouljams

you make my worms feel seen

[itsphoenix0724]

All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched woods, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target. 

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you. 

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you. 

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away. 

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine. 

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul. 

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him. 

But how could you not? 

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth. 

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf. 

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you. 

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily. 

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try. 

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight. 

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games. 

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core. 

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords. 

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs. 

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours. 

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck. 

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this. 

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body. 

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention. 

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your eyes roll back in your head. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs. 

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look. 

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement. 

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands. 

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.

[sugairsstuff]

hey… 💋 was wondering if you could write something for aragorn… you know who this is. you know what i’m asking for.

@theactofknowing yes i know who this is. here is payment. (p.s. they also write!)

(credit to @cafekitsune for the divider)

to bloom

aragorn x half-elf gn/reader

warnings: descriptions of nudity

summary: you and aragorn have known each other for years, resulting in the two of you inevitably falling in love with each other though never admitting it. though, it turns out all a love confession took was a bar of soap and you two bathing in a lake together.

Exhaustion has long since seeped into your muscles, the motion of placing one boot in front of the other becoming a rhythmic pattern you refuse to break for you know you won’t be able to pick it back up again.

Strong winds roll through the grassy fields, making a mess of your untied hair and causing your eyes to catch the billowing of a dark cloak in front of you. You raise your head slightly to gaze at the owner of the garment: reluctant heir of Gondor, unnamed leader of the little band titled the Fellowship the group of you have formed- and although commonly known as Strider, this part-elf is simply Aragorn to you.

The pair of you had been picked up by the group of hobbits you traveled with in Bree, helping them to evade the infamous Nazgûl and inevitably being brought along the daunting journey laid out for them. You had first met Aragorn years ago when he had first left Rivendell. You led a similar fate to Aragorn after you befriended him, leaving the safety of your current life for one of adventure alongside the ranger. Poets would say you were seeking meaning, you joke that you were bored.

The seed of friendship you and Aragorn had planted then was watered through the experiences you shared on your travels, the memories that wrapped themselves like vines around that bond holding you two together, and every laugh and secret you both managed out of each other in peaceful times. But then you two began to look at each softer, speak to each other quieter for the words were meant only for the two of you, touch each other in fleeting moments that may not have been accidents- and then that seed grew into a budding flower of more that you gathered up and have held deep within your chest. Though no matter how much you both watered the bond of your friendship since then, that flower has never seemed to bloom.

Aragorn finally looks over his shoulder to the rest of you, and everyone momentarily pauses as he lifts his hand to guide everyone’s attention to a forestry patch of land seated a few hundred metres south of the hill you all waited on. “We’ll take camp there for tonight. We won’t reach Lothlorien by dusk, and I haven’t seen a better place for cover yet.” he instructs. Nobody seems to disagree, not even the opinionated elf or eager dwarf who both wait at your sides. Once three of four hobbits start celebrating, enthusiastically asking who would hunt for dinner, you offer Aragorn a small smile and nod of assurance. He repeats the gesture and turns to lead the way, but not without a response to the impatient hobbits, “You all can hunt dinner for us tonight, how does that sound?” which silences them.

You hurry a pair of paces to match the long strides of Aragorn, who slows down when he notices exactly who is on his tail. “You look exhausted,” you tell him, amusement flickering in your eyes as you look to him.

“As do you,” Aragorn shoots back, his brows raised in subtle entertainment at your rather honest opening line.

You scoff lightheartedly and get to the point of your words, reaching down to the satchel at your side to unbutton the flap and reveal the contents. Aragorn leans over you to peer into the bag, finding four small bars of soap.

“From the travelling merchant we crossed earlier?” the heir asks, and you nod proudly as if this was a noble accomplishment on your end.

“I do not have confidence in myself to survive another day with the… natural aroma of our companions,” you jest, and pause, “or you.”

And to your pleasant surprise, Aragorn’s chin tilts back- outlining the sharp line of his jaw- as the man lets a genuine laugh escape his lips. “I would not say you are so innocent in the matter, either,” he says, the closed-lipped smile on his face not faltering as you send a warning glare his way.

You feel lighter as you walk alongside Aragorn the rest of the way to the tree border, smiling like a giddy child for longer than need be over the silly interaction. You and Aragorn maintain the front as the lot of you push further into the forest until Aragorn stops, glances around, and looks to you and Legolas for approval.

You turn to look over your shoulder, and when you see that the forest has become dense enough to block the border to the grasslands from your line of sight, you say, “I think we are far enough in.”

Legolas had already found perch on a fallen log, fiddling with the strings of his bow, and so you and Aragorn simply take that as a sign he agrees.

As the sun dips behind the distant hills, the shadows of the trees encompassing you all extend until the soft starlight slipping through the canopy dims them. Now, camp is set up, and the fire Aragorn once was stroking while Gimli cooked the hunted meal of the evening has been forgotten. Most of your companions have spaced out their places for the night, all but the hobbits who crowd next to their friend Frodo.

You gingerly place your things down nearby Aragorn’s, and when you offer to take first watch Aragorn’s volunteer to do the same comes not much later than yours. You both sit next to each other as you listen to the idle noises of your companions turn to quietness, and quietness to silence save for the surrounding sounds of the forest.

You catch Aragorn glance to you in your peripheral vision which tempts you to steal a glance back. When you do, you are surprised to see he has risen from the leafy floor he was sitting on and began crossing the few metres that separated the two of you. You stay sitting, craning your neck as Aragorn now stands a few feet in front of you. You tilt your head in questioning.

“There is a lake nearby, I saw it when I scouted the perimeters earlier,” his voice is low, quiet, though you see his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallows, “May I borrow the soap?”

Any hint of drowsiness has been stolen from your body, your heart beating rapidly as you nod to him. You do not like how the thought of the man doing the simple act of bathing makes your body blaze like a catching fire. You dig into your nearby satchel and hand him one of the square, neutral coloured bars. Aragorn turns the dry thing in his hand a few times before he turns and walks away.

You do not watch him go and rather turn back to your satchel to close the button of it, wondering why the crunching of leaves beneath Aragorn’s walking feet ceased so swiftly. Curiously, you turn to check, finding Aragorn returning your gaze.

Aragorn clears his throat. “Would you like to join me?”

You can only blink, feeling that flame return to your body as his words act like oxygen and spread its tendrils through you.

“Yes, I would,” you say, though the words come out more breathless than you had expected.

You feel Aragorn’s eyes on you as you stand, dusting off your trousers in the most awkward of ways before padding over to where he stands. He only looks down at you, the look in his eyes gentle yet unreadable before he quietly turns and begins to guide you to this lake.

“What of the others?” you ask, glancing back.

“I do not wish to bathe with Gimli,” Aragorn responds with blunt humour, looking back at you with a raised brow.

“No, I mean that we promised to watch the camp,” you correct, managing not to roll your eyes.

“The lake is not far. We will know if something happens.” he assures.

Although it may be easy for him to remain alert, you are not sure if you can trust your instincts once you are distracted with the sight of Aragorn’s bare body. Aragorn seems to see apprehension on your face, and makes a bold move of reaching back to brush his fingers against yours. Then, your fingers close around each other’s like lock and key, and Aragorn is gently pulling you until you reach a clearing.

The trees wrap around the small, oval lake like a wreath. The water is not murky, a sign that it is untouched, and instead when you peer into it you see both your reflection and the moon above.

When you turn to see what Aragorn is doing, unsure if you are welcome to begin undressing so openly, you see that the ranger has already begun to do exactly that. You heart leaps and your chest flutters so much that you think that bud in you is instead a cocoon that has just sprouted a dancing butterfly.

Aragorn already unclasped his cloak from around his neck, discarding it nearby on a rock that borders the lake’s edge. He disarms, setting his weapons on the same rock should he need them, then reaches for the hem of his tunic. The man pulls the fabric off of him slowly, revealing to you the muscles beneath that you have only been able to imagine until now. You gaze at him, following the movement of his hands until you see them stop. Your eyes flick up slightly and are met with an amused half-smirk on Aragorn’s end. That flame in you moved to burn in your cheeks as you turn your head away, seeing Aragorn slowly walk towards you in the edge of your vision.

“Do not be nervous,” he says quietly, his hand turning your jaw slowly so you meet his eyes again. You feel your heart in your ears as his attention moves lower, lower, lower, and then back. “Would you like me to help?”

You can only nod. He smiles and nods back before his hands move to the clasps of your cloak, working it undone with ease. He sets your weapons aside somewhere- too distracted to take note- before he pulls your tunic off of your raised arms. Aragorn takes a step closer, removing the rest of your undergarments before a turn of his head causes his lips to brush against the shell of your half-pointed ear, “Beautiful.” he murmurs, evoking a pleasant shiver that slips down your spine.

His hands, resting on each side of your waist, move downwards until they reach the band of your trousers. You kick off your boots in silent encouragement, and Aragorn turns his head further to look down at you properly. Then he begins to slowly drag the last few pieces of your clothing that kept you decent, and once you stepped out of them- Aragorn now kneeling before you as he set aside your aside garments- you heard both of your breaths hitch.

Aragorn rises again, your breaths heavy as you both glance in the direction of whence you came, checking that none of your sleeping friends have noticed your absences. You look back at Aragorn first and see how the moonlight betrays Aragorn as he slowly drifts his attention back to you, illuminating the red tinting of his cheeks. He takes his sweet time in simply looking at your body, and you hear him sigh softly- a gentle, sweet exhale. The amusing thought of him swooning over you like a damsel crosses your mind.

Aragorn seems to notice the light dancing in your eyes, and he takes your hand and leads you to the rocky edges of the lake. “After you,” he tells you, and you feel as his eyes never leave you as you descend into the water. You wade around, taking note that water in the area you stand reaches your middle, and watch as Aragorn strips himself of the rest of his clothing.

Shamelessly, you stare as he undos his trousers, slipping them off alongside his undergarment and blushing when he sees you looking. You offer a coy smile in return, reaching over the edge to grab the soap he left on it as he enters the water alongside you.

“You first,” you tell him, and he obeys by wading over to where you stand. As you dip the soap into the water, getting some of the substance on to your hands, you feel a little grateful that the water is just high enough to reach Aragorn’s waist. He remains where he is as you work the soap into his skin, your heart jumping each time he sighs when you press into a particularly sore muscle. His skin gleams with moonlight and sparkles with droplets of water that cling to the short strands of hair on his chest leading downwards. You wash his arms, focus on his shoulders, and when he turns around to let you do his chest your hands linger there.

“Friends do not do these things,” is what Aragorn decides to say to break the comfortable silence.

“No, they do not,” you agree, your voice wavering with uncertainty. You keep your gaze on his chest, cupping water in your hand as you rinse off the soap. You let him wash the parts of him below the surface of the water, grinning as you can’t help but steal glances. But he says nothing else, nor do you, as you quietly find a seat on a ledge in the rock. Aragorn moves to stand between your legs, leaning back so his head is nearly against your chest.

You gather soap on your hands once more, lathering the suds through his hair. You watch from above as he sighs and closes his eyes, giving in to temptation as he leans further back into you. You massage the soap into his dark oak curls, watching his eyelashes flutter against his cheek and the corners of his pink lips tug upwards ever so slightly. You tilt his head back a little more as you cup water into your free hand, pouring it along the back of his head and watch as it drags the soap off of his curls that resist straightening even when wet.

Before you have the chance to climb down from your perch on the rock, Aragorn reaches a hand to your calf. His fingers dance along the skin, as if exploring, and travel up until they reach your thigh. By then, he’s looking up at you, and you are looking down at him, and his face is so close to yours you know that you both are only trying to see who caves first.

And it is Aragorn who does. He tilts his chin only slightly, which is enough to capture your lips in his as you lean over him. Your hands move to drape around his neck as his continue their journey up your thighs. He lifts you by the waist, bringing you back down to the lake floor with him so that it is he who must bend downwards to keep kissing you. You press your chest into his, standing practically between his legs as you both run your hands over each other’s bodies. Aragorn leaves a spark everywhere his fingers brush- your waist, your legs, back, chest, neck- he is everywhere but it is still not enough.

You know now what it feels like to bloom as that bud deep within your chest comes to life as Aragorn’s hands find their final place on each side of your face. His thumbs stroke gently in a lover’s caress as he finally breaks the kiss, though he does not move far. The look he gives you as you both stand together- chests heaving and lips puffy red with adrenaline pumping through your veins- tells you that Aragorn has just discovered what that feels like too, for there has been a matching budding flower in him, as well.

“We are not friends,” Aragorn finally says. You have never heard his voice so soft, “we are more.”

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 234

More of the Tiamat Au? More of the Tiamat Au! 

Sharing a body was strange. Ten limbs split between the nine of them- thirteen if one counted the tails and seventeen if one counted the fact that their cloak… skirt… whatever could mimic the wings of their other form. 

One which they would change back to after a few moments- there was much less stumbling when it was all fours. Not to mention that if not for the tails they’d have easily toppled over with how many arms they had making them slightly top heavy. Okay more than slightly, it was taking a bit to adjust. 

Honestly the fields of wheat and other crops did nothing to hide them with how tall even this body was, but it was still better than nothing, and they were using the fact it was the middle of nowhere to their shared advantage. 

At least the humanoid- not human, even now their shared power thrummed through the air, leaking from them- form was smaller than their true draconic one. Well, perhaps they shouldn’t call it their true form, when they were once all human, halfa and liminal alike, but they’d long since stopped being such. So perhaps it was in fact true to call the form they had become as their normal state now. 

Actually, could they even separate now? Or had their power melded together so much that it was impossible now, and an attempt would end them? It would at the very least crack their core- 

“What the fuck.” 

Their head lurched, a little too far if the jolt of pain was anything before it melted away. They were all too used to moving their own necks separately. But all of them agreed that discovery could not happen-

Oh.

It was a child. A preteen with red-orange hair, blue-green eyes, expensive clothing, and most damming of all, large swaths of bruising across his arms. Bruising that did not come from usual play, and looked far too much like hand prints for any of their comfort. 

Someone had very much not been taking care of this child. And that really made them quite angry. 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Maybe a drabble in which our Lamb meets Chimaera Reader, the maker of all crowns? Like, he stumbles upon their lair, and sees all types of the crowns, big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed, etc.? Maybe even a little inter actions between the Reader and the Red Crown in which it recognises them as their maker?

Sorry for my English, it is not my native language-

Also sorry if this request repeats, tumblr May have doubled it-

I swear I'm gonna turn this into an OC one day because I LOVE the concept of a crown maker in the COTL universe

........

'Where am I now..?' Lamb pondered as they stepped into a cavern--one most unfamiliar to them.

It was strange, considering they've scoured nearly every corner of the Old Faith for resources, potential rival cult activity, and even martyrs for the Bishops.

But this area was entirely new to them.

With their weapon drawn, they cautiously ventured further inward, eventually arriving into a larger room that was almost entirely cloaked in darkness. They could barely see a thing even with the few torches scattered around lighting the way.

Then suddenly, they saw a bunch of eyes opening up on all sides of them, varying in shape, size, color, and number. And they just stared down at the little sheep.

While they were accustomed to having so many eyes on them, this was completely different.

These eyes certainly didn't belong to any follower of theirs.

What if this was a trap?

What if-?

"Welcome, little Lamb! Promised liberator of the Old Faith!"

Looking upwards, they could see you descending from the darkness. You looked like a tradition chimera: a lion, goat, dragon, and snake all mixed into one. Both of your heads smiled as you took a seat upon your throne, although you frowned a bit upon realizing how poor the lighting must have been.

"Oh forgive me, it is awful dim in here, isn't it? Hold on one moment." Your lion head breathed out a small blast of fire, aimed towards a nearby candle that lit up.

That set off a chain reaction which lit up dozens of other candles around your lair, and burned the torches bright enough for Lamb to see what all those eyes belonged to:

Crowns.

So many crowns.

Big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed..and even multi-eyed; some sported horns and some did not. Others had bare surfaces while others were decorated with jewels or marred with scars from time.

It was an astonishing sight, and when Lamb looked back up at you, they could see a crown on each of your heads--snake tail included.

Not to mention your seat was adorned with four familiar ones...

"So you..take crowns from fallen gods?"

"Do I take them?" You repeated, before laughing uproariously. "No, but I can see why you'd assume that. I'm [y/n], Maker of the Crowns."

They blinked. "You created the crowns?"

"I have since the first gods ruled over these lands." You chuckled, taking the Green Crown into your paw. "I mold them into a design of my liking, give them life, and then send them off into the world to find a worthy host. They're like my children, so I do get sentimental at times...but I know they'll do great things."

'Huh...Leshy did say the crown found him..' Lamb mused.

"Of all the ones I've created, though, I never thought to see the Bishops' crowns again. But they were in such terrible condition...falling apart, barely able to keep their eyes open....I couldn't believe it." Your gaze shifted down to the sheep. "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

They tensed. "...well...um-"

"Haha! I only jest, Lamb. I know everything." You smiled reassuringly. "I've sensed strong spikes in their energy, and I'm well aware they've been used as aids for the bishops after Narinder's betrayal. Speaking of whom...."

Pausing, you outstretched your paws towards them. "I see the Red Crown has found a new master."

"It's a long story, but--hey!!" All of the sudden, the Red Crown slipped out of their hands, morphing back into its normal form as it began floating up to you. They were shocked and angered, feeling extremely vulnerable without it. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing, little one. It came to me all on its own. Welcome home, my darling." With the crown nestled into your paw, your smile grew as its eye stared back up at you with happiness. You sighed and brought it closer to your cheek, allowing it to nuzzle up to you. "Oh how I've missed you, mighty crown of Death. I'm glad you have not forgotten me."

"Give it back!!" Lamb snarled, baring their sharp teeth as they tried storming up to your throne. But their little hooves kept slipping on the skull pile that served as its foundation, and they eventually tumbled downwards, landing on their rear. "I need it back right now!"

"...are they always like this?" You muttered to the Red Crown, who just rolled its pupil in response. "Huh, I thought so. Arrogant, entitled, paranoid....just like your first master-"

"Don't compare us." They scowled. "Narinder was worse than arrogant...he would have destroyed this entire world, along with you and all these crowns if I returned it to him! We are NOTHING alike."

"Hm, I see I've touched a nerve. My apologies. I just wanted to take care of this little chip in its horn." Smiling, you manifested some black ichor to seal the crack you discovered on the crown, before sharpening up its horns a little bit. "There. Much better."

"....thank you. Now may I have it back?" Lamb put their hand out, growing more anxious with each passing second they were separated from it. 'Why isn't it returning to me?"

"It doesn't see why it has to right at this very moment...and quite frankly, I don't either. It's not connected to your lifeforce. You're still standing without it-"

"Because I'm its new master! I gave it new purpose. I gave it freedom...and it should be obeying me unconditionally and I don't understand why it's being so stubborn. That crown wouldn't be anywhere NEAR as powerful if it weren't for-!!"

"Choose your next words carefully," you tutted, shaking your head as you gestured to the walls. "My children do not look it, but they too have ears."

Falling silent, they looked all around, noticing that the crowns were now glaring at them. They tensed up, a feeling of heavy discomfort and embarrassment washing over them as they slowly realized how childish they were acting.

And in front of the crown creator, of all people?

"Tell me..do you see the crown as nothing without you? Or perhaps you feel like you are nothing without the crown?"

"........"

"Your mistake, little lamb, is that you see crowns as simple tools to do your bidding. A conduit for your godhood. But do not forget, they are also living breathing creatures like you and I." You chastised. "As such, they deserve respect. I figured you would've been more grateful to meet their maker...such few have the privilege to enter my lair and receive such a warm welcome."

The Red Crown bobbed up and down in agreement, before it scowled down at Lamb, as though to say "you better listen to them and treat me better".

They just looked at the ground, unable to form words as shame creeped up their spine.

You sighed softly. "I understand your worries as a new god. The mere thought of separation from it drives you to rage, especially after what happened between you and Narinder. But I have no desire to take it from you. Not when you've fought so hard for it. All I wish is that you continue caring for it."

"....I'm sorry, Great Crown Maker.." Lamb muttered, finally letting themselves be humbled. "I don't mean to act like I did. It's just...he's been annoying me all day today, shouting about "divine right" and making my life a living hell. He still can't accept that it chose me over him.."

They felt the familiar and comforting weight of the Red Crown returning to the wool atop their head, but they only looked up at you with respect. "Thank you."

"Of course, young one." You nodded, smiling once more. "Narinder has possessed that crown since he was a wee little kit, so it's going to be quite a long time before he lets that grudge go. Perhaps in a hundred years, give or take."

"I understand...so.." Lamb looked around. "Do you have any wares?"

"Oh, plenty!" You clapped your paws together. "Feel free to take a gander! Since this is your first visit, you may have one of the tarot cards over there on the house. But just know that the crowns aren't for sale."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Animals

for your next poem/story (pt. 2)

Accentor - a small Eurasian songbird with generally drab-colored plumage

Brach - a female hound

Culver - a dove or pigeon

Diprotodon - a monotypic genus of Australian Pleistocene herbivorous marsupials related to the kangaroos, resembling a rhinoceros in size, and walking on four legs

Eyas - an unfledged bird, specifically: a nestling hawk

Falanouc - (or Falanaka) a viverrine mammal, Eupleres goudotii, of Madagascar closely related to the Asiatic palm civet

Gerenuk - a large-eyed antelope (Litocranius walleri) of eastern Africa with a long neck and limbs

Huemul - (or Guemal) either of two small South American deer, Hippocamelus bisulcus and H. antisiensis, having simple forked antlers

'I'iwi - Hawaiian honeycreeper (Vestiaria coccinea) with chiefly bright vermilion plumage formerly used in making feather cloaks

Jerboa - any of several social nocturnal jumping rodents (family Dipodidae) of arid parts of Asia and northern Africa having a long tail and long hind legs

Kinkajou - a nocturnal arboreal omnivorous mammal (Potos flavus) found from Mexico to South America that is related to the raccoon and has a long prehensile tail, large eyes, and yellowish brown fur

Leveret - a hare in its first year

Murre - any of a genus (Uria) of black-and-white alcids, especially: a common seabird (U. aalge) of northern seas

Nyala - an antelope (Tragelaphus angasii) of southeastern Africa with vertical white stripes on the sides of the body, a dorsal crest of hair from the neck to the base of the tail, and in the male shaggy black hair along the underside; also: a related antelope (T. buxtoni) of Ethiopia

Olm - an elongated European cave-dwelling aquatic salamander (Proteus anguinus) with permanent external gills and small eyes covered by the skin

Pudu - a small reddish deer (Pudu pudu) of the Chilean Andes having simple antlers resembling spikes and standing only 12 or 13 inches high

Quarrion - cockatiel (i.e., a crested small gray Australian parrot, Nymphicus hollandicus, with a yellow head)

Rorqual - any of a family (Balaenopteridae) of large baleen whales that have relatively small heads, short, broad plates of baleen, and the skin of the throat marked with deep longitudinal furrows and that include the blue whale, humpback whale, minke whale, fin whale, and sei whale

Spatangid - a sea urchin of the suborder Spatangina; heart urchin

Turaco - any of a family (Musophagidae) of typically crested African birds that are related to the cuckoos and have a long tail, a short stout often colored bill, and red wing feathers

Urubu - black vulture (i.e., an American vulture, Coragyps atratus, that is smaller than the turkey buzzard and heavier in flight)

Vicuña - a long-necked mammal (Lama vicugna synonym Vicugna vicugna) of the Andes from Peru to Argentina that is related to but somewhat smaller than the guanaco, has a light brown woolly coat that is paler below, is considered to the be ancestor of the alpaca, and has been historically hunted for its wool and meat

Widgeon - any of several freshwater ducks (genus Mareca)

Xiphosura - an order of arthropods comprising the horseshoe crabs and extinct related forms and usually including only the two recent genera Limulus (synonym Xiphosurus) with representatives along the American coast of the Atlantic and Tachypleus with species along the Asiatic coast of the Pacific

Zokor - a burrowing rodent (Myotalpa aspalax) native to the Altai mountains that resembles a mole rat

More: Word Lists ⚜ Part 1

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 24: Beyond

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 5354 words.

A/N: So early omg...

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“How do you win a man over?”

The journeys through the Impossible Belt left scars on your mind. The hardest days you could remember. Crossing those colossal mountains required at least three strenuous days, or two if luck was on your side, though it rarely was. Yorozu, your mother and you moved forward in a silence laden with exhaustion and expectation, driven only by the promise of the elegant balls in Gojo kingdom. The bare trees, the biting wind and the frozen ground whispered warnings, threatening you to go back home. Even so, you continued onward. The dense mist enveloped the landscape, a cloak not only hiding the path, but also the curses that lurked, invisible and dangerously close.

The cold was the commoners’ worst enemy. When skin freezes, the threat becomes tangible: disease, suffering, and for the less fortunate, death itself. The best way to keep warm was to wrap yourself in three or four blankets, those blankets always ended up in the hands of your mother, who claimed them with the authority of someone in charge. So you and Yorozu had no choice but to sleep embraced, sharing the comfort of a single blanket that barely managed to contain the cold of the night.

“Why do you ask?” Yorozu whispered to not wake her mother, releasing a small trail of steam.

“If I don't get married soon, Mom will be furious,” you explained in the same tone, shivering in her arms from the cold. “How do you make all the men crazy about you?”

Yorozu was stupidly beautiful, but there must have been something beyond her appearance that caught the attention of men like moths to a flame. Whether in the humble commune or in the elegant halls of the Gojo kingdom, she had a magnetism that aroused unspeakable desires, even among those who knew her sharp tongue well. Her beauty could dazzle, but her personality repelled, still and all, men continued to fall under her spell, as if the contradiction itself was part of her appeal.

“Men are simple creatures. You just have to look pretty, give them a flirtatious smile and make them believe that they are the most interesting man in the world,” Yorozu commented with a certain arrogance.

Yorozu was fascinated by men, but not in the conventional way. To her, they were simple toys. She was like a cat being entertained by a field mouse, catching it by the tail every time it tried to escape, just to prolong the fun. If that was the trick to bewitching them, you had no hope. You let out a resigned sigh, accepting your defeat with a mixture of frustration and envy. Yorozu instantly caught the disappointment on your face and, as expected, smiled with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"But since you are my favorite sister, I will tell you my secret technique." Yorozu took pity on you.

"Really? "

"You just have to promise not to tell anyone." She warned you.

"I promise".

"Listen carefully, I call this technique: ‘Pull and push.’ It is foolproof".

Yorozu’s technique was as simple as it was effective, a dance in two perfectly calculated and consecutive movements. First, she gave them exactly what they craved, letting them taste a hint of what they could have. Then, with impeccable coldness, she ignored them, leaving them in the abyss of unfulfilled desire. She never failed: they always came back, begging for more. That was how Yorozu pulled the strings of obsession.

"Isn't that manipulation?" You asked worriedly.

"Call it what you want, but it always works".

"But what happens when they get bored of chasing?".

"Oh, sis. It's obvious you don't know anything about men". Yorozu mocked, ending up in a coughing fit due to the cold darkness. "Men are hunters by nature. They don't rest until they get what they want".

"And if what they want it's not me?" You asked worriedly.

You looked down, caught in the whirlwind of thoughts that whispered cruel truths. Maybe you weren't desirable enough for someone to chase or fight for you. Insecurity weighted on your shoulders. But before you could completely sink, Yorozu took your jaw firmly and lifted your face, forcing you to look her straight in the eyes. A simple gesture of command, characteristic of her.

"Then that man is not worth it." Yorozu promised you.

The love letter had driven Sukuna mad like few things could. If he was already a ruthless tyrant, this time he had taken his cruelty to a new level. Unleashing his fury, he began a relentless search throughout the castle to discover who the author of the letter was. Kenjaku began, demanding names, possible suspects who might have harbored feelings for him. But he failed to offer any answers that satisfied him. Frustrated, Sukuna turned his wrath on Mahito, relentlessly beating him until he was reduced to a mass of tears and pleadings. The commander swore he knew nothing about the mysterious letter. Finally, he grabbed Mrs. Inoue and threatened to kill her on the spot if she did not reveal a name. But neither shouting nor threats had any effect. The letter remained an enigma, and his frustration, an unstoppable fire.

A month passed by since the coronation, and now there were only two days left until the long-awaited ball. It was time to leave for the Zen'in lands. The sun rose high, its dim light filtering through the clouds of smoke that dyed the sky an eerie gray. As you passed through the castle gates, you were met by a bustling scene. Hundreds of curses hurried about, carrying suitcases, sharpening cursed weapons and securing cargo carts for the long journey. The bustle was chaotic, but efficient, each one fulfilling their role with precision. Among them, Mrs. Inoue stood out with her usual calm behind you, carrying your suitcase towards the majestic royal carriage. The only thing you carried was your bow and arrows.

“I hope you have a great time.” Mrs. Inoue wished you a good trip as she handed the suitcase to the porter.

“I hope so too. I can’t wait to see the dress King Sukuna has prepared for me.” You smiled as you imagined a beautiful white dress with pretty headdresses like the ones you used to wear at the balls in the Gojo Kingdom.

“You better tell me everything when you get back. Especially how handsome Commander Zen’in looked,” Mrs. Inoue asked, fantasizing about the handsome boy in a military suit. You crossed your arms and snorted as you remembered his disgusting existence. “He may be a misogynist, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome,” your friend defended herself.

The bustle in the courtyard intensified the instant the king made his appearance. The curses, already working in a hurry, redoubled their efforts, making sure everything was in perfect order for the journey. Kenjaku and Mahito moved between them, checking that no one had failed in their task.

You and Mrs. Inoue bowed as you saw the king approaching. Sukuna, with that bearing that combined arrogance and elegance, took your hand with a surprising delicacy for someone like him. Like every morning since he had proposed to you, he kissed the large ring that adorned your finger. Lady Inoue, always discreet, wished you a good journey with a respectful bow before returning inside the castle, letting the game pass without interruptions.

“I thought you agreed that the ball would not be a trap,” you said to the king, watching all the curses work.

“Just because the odds are low doesn’t mean they’re zero. It’s better to be prepared,” Sukuna explained.

You got into the royal carriage with the help of your fiancé. Once you were both seated in your respective seats, the porter closed the door. You heard Mahito’s shrill voice shouting out the instructions about the departure to the Zen’in kingdom. You twirled your engagement ring on your finger as you waited in complete silence for the journey to begin.

It had been over a month since you began to execute your plan, and so far, everything had gone better than you expected. You had managed to make King Sukuna obsessed with you, and, to your surprise, it had been much simpler than you imagined. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought that Yorozu’s toxic technique had borne fruit: a simple romantic gesture was enough for the king to break his own scheme and take the next step. From there, the rest unfolded with an almost insulting ease.

A cute smile in the hallways, a fleeting touch under the table, or a bold glance that you quickly concealed with an innocent façade. Every calculated move entangled him further in your web. Sukuna, the feared tyrant, now danced to the tune of your strings. And, the best of all, he hadn't even noticed. He thought he was the puppeteer, but you were the one in complete control, and with each passing day, the game had been more interesting.

"We need to talk."

Sukuna broke the silence as soon as the carriage began to move. At last, the journey was about to begin. You placed the ring back on your finger correctly before turning to him.

"Yes, my king?"

"Kenjaku and I have been talking about this ball and decided to leave you with an important task." Sukuna explained. “You can have fun at the ball, but you will have to look into as much as you can about the Zen'in kingdom.”

You didn't need him to remind you. From the moment you asked him to go to the ball, you knew exactly what that opportunity meant. For Sukuna, it was nothing more than an excuse to spy on the enemy up close, and you would be his key piece on the board. You had anticipated this, and although he didn't tell you directly, you understood that your role went beyond looking elegant at the party. It made sense. Being of the same race as the sorcerers, your presence among them would raise less suspicion. It would be easier for you to get closer, gain trust, and hear what they would never reveal to curses. 

“Do you want me to do a feint?” You asked.

Feint. Simulation. Deception. A tactic that is common in chess, whereby a player suggests a certain intention to the opponent, in order to provoke a predictable and mistaken reaction in him, which can be exploited. If you were understanding, Sukuna was going to pretend to spy when the real spy would be you. 

“Exactly. Infiltrate among them and find out as much as you can.”

You leaned back in the padded seat of the carriage, letting the soft fabric cushion the accumulated load. Through the window, you watched the imposing rocky city unfold before your eyes, its buildings standing like scars carved into the base of the gigantic volcano that dominated the horizon. In the streets, civilians stopped to watch the parade of knights advancing with martial grace towards the exit of the city, their armor resonating with the rhythm of their steps.

The carriage rocked on the uneven stones of the road, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by that sway. In the distance, curses conversed among themselves, their voices muffled by the distance, but you weren’t hearing them. You were lost in your thoughts. How could you approach the sorcerers so naturally? A lightbulb went off in your head. You opened your eyes decisively and, without hesitation, you took off your engagement ring.

“What are you doing?” Sukuna asked you, offended.

“No one will believe me that I am on the sorcerers’ side if they see me with the ring on. It screams that I am on your side.” You took one of his hands to place the ring on his palm. “It would be better if we continue pretending that I am your slave. That way, the sorcerers might feel sorry for me and open up.” You explained.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Sukuna nodded, putting the ring in his pocket.

“Just promise me something,” you asked him.

You subtly scoot over, getting closer to him, letting each movement seem casual, even though it was perfectly calculated. Your hand rested lightly on his thigh, the tips of your fingers barely brushing his skin through the fabric, and then slowly ascended to his chest, a gesture as gentle as it was provocative. Heat rose to the king's cheeks, tinting them a crimson that contrasted with the innocence carefully sculpted in your gaze. It was that combination, the perfect balance between the pure and the temptation, that managed to disarm him. Under your touch, the king, with all his imposing authority, seemed to melt, trapped in the spell you had created.

"Whatever you want," Sukuna whispered to you because of the closeness you had created.

"Grant me just one dance. It's all I want," you asked.

"Of course."

You gave him a tender smile before gently clinging to his arm, resting your cheek against it in a gesture full of intimacy. You knew the journey would be long, and the idea of ​​a nap seemed like the best way to kill some time. Sukuna stroked your hair in response. As your eyelids slowly drifted shut, he settled back into the seat, preparing to rest as well.

Night fell as the caravan entered the shadowy Forest of Curses. The ranks of Curses marched in a military cadence, led by Commander Hanami, whose experience and knowledge of the field guided them precisely through a pre-arranged route. Further back, Mahito moved between the ranks with his team, making sure everything went smoothly. In the royal carriage, Kenjaku stood by the driver, watchful and ready in case the king or his fiancée ever needed anything.

Hanami led the curses through long grasslands and along the hills to minimize wear and tear. Huge pine trees covered the foothills, where some wild curses lurked from the shadows of dense branches. Unlike the curses under the iron grip of the kingdom of New Sukuna, these creatures renounced any regime. They were primitive beasts, guided only by basic instincts and an absolute disdain for order. Their eyes glittered in the shadows, but for now, the parade continued uninterrupted.

“It’s so quiet,” Mahito commented with a smile as he reached Kenjaku’s side.

“Don’t jinx it,” Kenjaku scolded him.

“That’s a human thing,” Mahito shrugged, downplaying it.

“Bad luck can strike anyone,” the teacher told him wisely.

Mahito stopped at the side of the road, allowing the line of caravans to continue moving forward. He took advantage of the moment to immerse himself in the stillness of nature. The night wind caressed his long hair, crickets sang from afar, leaves shone with an almost ethereal glow. His eyes with heterochromia snapped open as he realized.

A war cry tore through the tranquility, reverberating like an alarm bell. Sukuna woke up immediately, thanks to his sharp reflexes. You were barely opening your eyes, still trapped between sleep and confusion, when he suddenly pulled you, making you fall to the floor of the carriage. An instant later, arrows of blood violently stuck in the ceiling, just a few centimeters from where you had been seconds before. Adrenaline coursed through your body, clearing away any trace of sleep. You were being ambushed.

“Stay here and don’t move,” Sukuna ordered you before exiting the carriage at lightning speed to assist his army.

The cries of war and pain intertwined in a heart-wrenching echo that seemed to envelop everything. You had no idea what was happening outside the carriage, but one thing was clear: you had to be ready to face it. You made your way to your bow and quiver, which rested by the door, but before you could reach them, a new volley of arrows stuck hard into the wood, blocking your way. A muffled cry escaped your lips as you backed away. Staying in the carriage was not an option if they continued to aim there. With shaking hands, you grabbed the scratched bow and damaged quiver, pushing open the door before launching yourself into the cold darkness outside.

The chaos that greeted you was more visceral than you had imagined. The army of curses was facing a group of sorcerers who manipulated blood with terrifying mastery. You had never witnessed anything so brutal. The scene was a crimson spectacle, an indistinguishable mix of the use of blood as a weapon and lethal wounds that ended curses. The sorcerers, dressed in white suits and black cloaks, fought with fierce intensity, as if this battle were the last act of their lives. In the midst of the war, Sukuna, Mahito, Kenjaku and Hanami fought with their unique and devastating styles, cutting through the enemies with the same mastery that defined them.

Instinct drove you to run towards the hill, seeking shelter among the trees, where you could shoot from a safer position. Memories of that terrible day of hunting awakened in your body, guiding you as you quickly climbed. Once hidden among the shadows of the pines, you pulled a pink arrow from your quiver, locking it on your bow with mechanical precision. Your arms were placed in a perfect T-position as you searched for a target. Through the confusion, you saw a sorceress facing Hanami. Without hesitation, you set your sights on it, drawing the string taut ready to fire. But just as you were about to release the arrow, a firm, unfamiliar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“You have a terrible posture.”

A pair of blood arrows grazed your sides, sticking between the sleeves of your dress, causing you to lose your balance and fall to the ground. As soon as you looked up, a middle-aged man fell on you. His hands were in front of him, palms perfectly pressed together, ready to finish you off. He was too close for you to counterattack with your arrows. Everyone was busy, the chances of someone saving you were zero. Maybe you should have stayed in the carriage. You closed your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” The man asked you curiously.

You opened your eyes and your attacker was mere centimeters from your face. You yelped in surprise at having him so close. You frowned as you processed the question he had asked you. He didn’t look familiar to you. He looked like an average man like Wasuke. Black hair with gray growing on the sides, a mustache that was barely growing, wrinkles that told the story of his life and a comfortable white yukata with a black cape over his shoulders.

“No, I don’t think so…” You answered in a whisper.

“Oh, well,” he said before pointing his hands at you. He was about to shoot a blood arrow until an order cut through the wind.

“Retreat!” A younger voice shouted.

“Saved by my son, how lucky.” The man joked before running off towards the hill. “Your hands are in the wrong position!” He advised you as the arrows that nailed you to the ground turned to liquid and followed him quickly through the air.

The pack of sorcerers, around twenty, fled in terror through the hills, but not all of them managed to escape. Here and there, some unfortunate one fell, his head separating from his body in a violent flash. Instead of pausing to mourn the loss of their comrades, however, the sorcerers manipulated the spilled blood, collecting what they could before continuing their escape. “What a strange technique,” ​​you thought, unable to look away from the grotesque skill.

You picked yourself up off the ground once the sorcerers disappeared into the shadows of the night. As quickly as they had come, they were gone. You looked down at your bow, frowning in bewilderment. “Is my posture that bad?” you mused, offended by your apparent inability to shoot when it was crucial.

Back at the caravans, the magnitude of the disaster hit you like an icy wave. Half the curse army was gone. A small group of sorcerers, barely a fraction of the size of their ranks, had been able to annihilate over a hundred curses in a matter of minutes. It was a display of power that was as terrifying as it was impressive.

Mahito and Hanami worked frantically to reorganize the remaining troops, their voices echoing among the survivors as they tried to restore a sense of order to them. Sukuna and Kenjaku watched, from a distance, their presences as imposing as ever, despite the partial defeat.

“Those Kamo idiots, they always come at the worst time,” Sukuna muttered.

“It seems they just wanted to kill as many curses as possible before you cut off the first head,” Kenjaku theorized about the attack. Sukuna ignored him when he saw you with the bow over your body and your sleeves torn.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing your arms to inspect you closely. “They didn’t do anything weird to you or take any of your blood, right?” Sukuna looked at you, concerned for your well-being.

“I’m fine, they just scared me, that’s all,” you replied.

"That's why I told you to stay in the carriage!".

"Speaking of the carriage…". Kenjaku pointed at the vehicle for them to see.

The grand royal carriage that once looked so imperial and sophisticated, was now riddled with holes from the hundreds of arrows that pierced it and had its wheels completely destroyed, leaving only the king without a vehicle. A direct message of hatred towards him.

"Stupid Kamo," Sukuna growled.

The next two days you spent them in the cargo cart, a rolling box full of supplies and cursed weapons, designed for the impending conflict that everyone feared would erupt at the Zen'in ball. You sat on the floor, surrounded by sacks of meat and blades wrapped in cloth, feeling every jolt of the vehicle as a reminder of the uneven road and the tension that grew with each mile traveled.

While you rode in the chariot, Sukuna led the army from the front, walking with the determination of someone who knew his place was where he could be seen by his soldiers, instilling fear and respect in equal parts. He preferred the firmness of the ground beneath his feet to the confines of a regular chariot, even if the journey was long and tiring.

Finally, after two endless days of jolting and silence broken only by the creaking of the wheels, the carriage abruptly stopped, almost throwing you forward. Before you could react, a curse quickly opened the door, letting in a different air.

“We have arrived, young lady,” the curse announced.

You got out of the vehicle and saw that you were on top of a hill, hidden among the trees so that no one would notice the presence of a hundred curses. You walked among the leafy trees with curiosity until you came across an impressive image. In front of you, was the most beautiful place you have ever seen in your life. A large castle located on top of a hill, surrounded by a medieval city. The castle had multiple towers and defensive walls, built with natural and resistant stone, that gave it an ancient appearance. A river partially surrounded the hill. The soft light of the sunset bathed the scene, highlighting the most precise details.

The memory of Sukuna wanting to conquer those lands made you a little sad. Everything was too beautiful for him to come and snatch it out of their hands, like he had with the Jogo kingdom. You didn't think curses kept the city as intact as that. You weren't sure if you could do anything about it, but you would try.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Kenjaku came to your side.

"Yes, very much so."

"But not as beautiful as the dress the king ordered for you," he reminded you to get ready for the big ball that night.

"I'm ready." You said before taking his arm to lead you to where you could get ready for the night. Whatever would happen, would happen, but you would be ready for it. This would be a good night.

Masterlist.

taglist:

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @catobsessedlady @danniwerner @paradisestarfishh

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Vil, Jack: a Strength that Shines

Ayyy, it’s the childhood friends (?) from the Shaftlands!! It feels like forever since we last got any significant interactions between Vil and Jack. Nice to see them chatting again~

bdjwvsjsGuabs THAT GROOVY THOUGH… Vil looks so judgmental and dismissive 😭 Channeling all his Mean Girl energy to diss Neige Snow White, lol

A Tale as Old as Time.

Four sides drew together to form a glittering box. A lovely maiden rested within the coffin-like casing of the photo frame. Her lips as red as blood, her hair as dark as ebony, and her skin as fair as snow.

She was circled by foliage, her sun-dappled face tilting up, disarmed by some distant call. The girl cupped her dainty hands together, housing a small baby blue bird in her palms. Kindness, goodness, grace—she exuded all of them.

Vil scoffed, tossing golden hair over his shoulder. Her smile was reminiscent of a rival celebrity, one pure as a dove's feathers.

So carefree, so cheery.

How irritating, he sighed.

"One ought to be more cautious in the woods. Who knows what dangers might lurk nearby, wishing to enact harm upon her.

"For a glamour shot though... Hmm, yes. This composition is acceptable. The sunlight is angled upon her face in a pleasing way—it casts a golden glow on her pale visage and highlights the highest points: cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. The impression is one of total innocence.”

A soft grunt sounded from beside him.

"She's... shining," Jack commented plainly. His critique, clipped. “Didn’t you do a photo shoot like this recently? Similar place and everything.”

Vil’s beauty was momentarily marred by a grimace. “Yes, as promotional material for an upcoming film. However, the feel of it was completely different than what you see here.”

Shadows instead of sunlight. Temptation in the place of innocence.

He, poised amid the creeping branches and dark leaves, a tatter cloak clinging to his curves. A single, crimson apple in his grasp, a sultry look directed at the camera.

He tried to picture himself like the girl in the frame countless times over. Kneeling among the woodland creatures, smiling so serenely. Any pro could pull it off—he included.

But the image never turned out right in his mind.

Not the right amount of sweetness, not natural enough.

Not quite the same.

Not at all.

Blood, sweat, tears. Sacrifices made at the altar. Yet still, the world yielded nothing but broken promises and shattered dreams. The splintered parts and shambles of them, he gathered, forming his own makeshift hope and determination.

He couldn’t give in here.

Vil’s perfectly groomed brows scrunched up.

“I shall have to endeavor to work even harder. I’m not satisfied with things as they are now.”

“Heh.” Jack cocked a small, lopsided grin. “Keeping on the grind… That’s just like you. You've got this."

“Obviously. Nothing will get accomplished otherwise.” Vil’s eyes passed over to the beastmen. “Presumably, you are doing the same."

"Yeah. Haven't skipped a day of my training regimen." Jack slapped a hand on his bicep, which fit snuggly in his glittering white sleeve. "We'll take out RSA next track and field meet!"

"I'd certainly hope so. If I am to taste sweet revenge, I'd prefer it be by my own hand... but I trust you to deliver in my place. I expect good news when next we speak. Do not disappoint me."

"Yessir!" Jack's tail wagged enthusiastically. He stood alert, saluting like a loyal knight. “I'll do my best!"

“Then it looks as though we both have our long-term goals set.” The dorm leader planted his hands on his waist—slim, cinched.

"Yours is...?"

"To surpass myself." Vil jerked his chin toward the girl in the painting. "To shine so brightly that my name not only goes down in history, but overshadows that which was written before."

"That's some big dream you have." Jack shook his head. "The scale's beyond what I can imagine. But knowing how stubborn you are, Vil-senpai... You seriously won't quit until you make that dream come true."

"My, my. Stubborn, am I?" He smirked, arms crossed. "I do believe it takes one to know one.

"You stand back and watch. I'll show you just how dazzling I can be."

His eyes held a steeliness to them. It was matched only by the same in Jack’s. Two strong men and their wills, meeting on equal grounds.

Jack simply nodded—an acknowledgment, an acceptance, of his upperclassman’s confidence. Overwhelming, like a powerful wave, a strong storm, a blazing inferno. He almost felt compelled to drop to one knee, to kneel before such a presence.

Vil turned away from the painting, his arms unraveling from one another. His movements were graceful, nearly ballet-like. And his expression—

Jack caught him mid-laugh. The snooty, airy kind, half-sincere, half-sarcastic. Brows upturned, mouth twisted in a faux sympathetic smile. Flaxen waves framing his lovely features.

His lips moved.

“I’ll topple you from your throne,” Vil vowed.

It was then that Jack noticed.

Vil-senpai's shining like the fair maiden.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Hunter's Favorite

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei, Tomura has been an intergalactic poacher for a good long while now, and when a potential job comes through that's for a big payout only four hours from where he currently is, he decides to look into it. But red flags start to blanket the wintery forest as he realizes the barely classified creature that he's been sent after seems far too sapient to actually be an animal. For his part, Dabi is just desperately trying to find what he needs to ensure his next heat doesn't kill him.

Contents: Sci-fi bullshit, Alien!Dabi, Hermaphrodite!Dabi*, descriptions of violence and (brief) vomiting, non-human anatomy, mating cycles/heats, size difference, size kink, scent kink, cum inflation (brief), belly bulge, eggpreg, egg laying, infertility, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, courtship rituals, mating bonds.

*Author's note: I am using "Hermaphrodite" rather than intersex because Dabi is not human and his species is able to produce both male and female gametes throughout their entire lifecycles unless they use medicines to stop that process.

Word Count: 22,357

Days camping in the wilderness have never exactly been Tomura's idea of a good time, let alone the wilderness on foreign, barely settled planets looking for a creature that could very well already be captured or dead. But that is what he finds himself doing as he lands his ship and starts to make his way outside. Ipra 309T is a small earth-like planet, which is a stroke of luck for him because the last one he was on had dangerous amounts of sulfuric gas making up the atmosphere, and the one before that had dangerously high spikes of radiation. Ipra 309T is a hospitable planet that in all likelihood will see a settlement brought to its surface within the next few years once the current groups of scientists finish surveying the land. 

He makes sure that he has all of the gear he needs for his stay, however long that will end up being, and leaves his ship. The cloaking device only works when it's stationary, but after the past half an hour of scanning the area, it's taken in the environment and is able to mimic it effectively, turning all but invisible to the naked eye, certainly invisible to most animals that may come across it while he's gone. Camping. In a snow covered forest. Great. Tomura is already bundled as tight as he can be and he is already wishing that he hadn't taken on this job as he starts to walk away from his far more comfortable vessel. If he were a lazy poacher he would just send out drones to look for the creature and stay in his ship, but the effectiveness of that kind of behavior is always far below what he feels like he's able to achieve by using more traditional methods. And if he wants to bag this little beast then he is going to have to be as effective as possible. 

Tomura starts to hike towards the place where the animal-- if it is an animal at all-- was spotted last. Ipra 309T hasn't been fully surveyed yet, and the first reports that scientists had given were that there weren't any sapient species on the planet. Which would mean settlers would be welcome to come and stake their claim on the land as long as they did so within interplanetary immigration guidelines. And then someone came across a pack of eight small bipedal creatures. The early reports said that the creatures had white skin and hair with long pointed ears with tufts of fur sticking off the ends and thin tails with prominent tufts at the tip as well. Their sharp claws on the hands and feet, and the mouth full of jagged fangs were very effective against the skin of humans and Varquix, because the two scientists who had come across the pack had immediately been set upon with such viciousness the human had all but dragged their companion away while he held his intestines inside after being gutted. Not a particularly good first encounter, but not that unusual. The problem is that no one has been able to get close enough to the intensely violent and territorial creatures to actually determine if they're people or animals. The other problem is that someone from Proximacard, the company that sent the scientists here to study the planet, had also gotten away with an egg from these creatures, clearly classified as BMN-019, which had been broken at some point. The embryo had, of course, not been viable, but regardless of whatever could be discovered from that, the shell itself had been exquisite. The palest blue in color on the outside with irregular rippling patterns across the surface that flashed like mother of pearl and and inside that, as it oxidized, started to glow, making the ripples along the surface cast faint patterns of the shining rainbow that had been compared to the northern lights on Earth. And the shell had 'gone missing' only for new jewelry that was worth a fortune to crop up among the most elite in two star systems, only a few pieces, but enough to have made the theft more than worth it for the person who orchestrated it. 

And that person had reached out to see if he could find someone to get more of the eggs, if not the creature themselves, hoping they could induce the laying in a sterile environment. It was a job that no one was particularly eager to take up after the early reports on the viciousness of the creatures, but some leak in Proximacard's system made mention of one of the BMN-019s that was seen roaming alone, smaller than the others and with patches of dark blue fur and skin across its body. It was unclear if it was a juvenile or if it was exiled, but it would be worth finding out. He hadn't known if he would want to bother with this job either, given the cold, but the reward for bringing it in was enough to make him go to this planet to potentially freeze to death, especially since he was only four hours away from the location when the message came through. That would all but guarantee that he would be the first one here to try and capture the creature and he was hoping that would better his chances. 

He hikes for the better part of two hours to get to the area where the creature was spotted, the forest not unlike that of a pine forest on Earth, though these trees drop seed leaves year round, the pods pale and mingling with the snow. That only means that he has a better idea of how to survive the natural environment as he finds a place that has a good vantage point and starts to go about setting up his campgrounds. The goal, aside from not freezing to death, is to be as unobtrusive as possible and be able to get the creature to come close enough for him to subdue it and get a translation collar around its throat. If the creature can talk with it on, then he'll know its a person, not an animal, and that means he can warn it that slavers will be after it and that it should probably go with its pack to the surveying crew and try to be registered as a sapient creature and the dominant species on the planet to protect them from being hunted and sold. It's not much of a boundary given the other animals he's captured and sold throughout the years, but it is better than nothing. At least he doesn't trade in people. 

Tomura sets up his camp and scatters some sensors in a mile radius around his tent, cloaked just like his ship, so that he'll know if anything enters the area. And then he returns to sit and wait. Even with the best winter gear that he can buy, he is still loathing that he bothered to look into this job and subject himself to this awful cold. 

///

Dabi wakes just before dusk and stretches his tail flicking and his ears twitching as he listens to make sure nothing is out of place around his den. There shouldn't be any, not when he's made his home so far away from the village and anything else that might want to make a meal out of him now that he's alone, and he's pleased to not hear anything that might indicate an animal has found its way to his den. He stretches and looks down at the thin bedding that he's been able to gather so far and knows that it won't be nearly enough when his cycle hits in a few weeks time, not only that, but there is a hollow aching in his stomach from not eating the day before. Ten months since his exile and he still can hardly feed himself. If he doesn't manage to make his hunting and gathering pay off soon, he doesn't think he'll survive his next heat.

He slips out of the sparse scattering of leaves that have been serving as his nest and makes his way out of the cave he's been calling home, using his claws to grip onto the sheet of ice that reformed overnight. This section of the mountain doesn't have much in the form of readily available resources, but it is just outside of the place the hunters tend to venture, allowing him to sneak along the border taking whatever he can, as well as ensuring that he is far enough away to not be noticed. Maybe someday he'll have the energy to move further east where food is supposed to be more plentiful, but for now, this is all he can manage.

Dabi moves down the side of the mountain, swapping hopping from boulders and snow mounds, up into the trees and moving through those instead. His coloration makes this marginally safer than just darting over the ground, but the white patches of his skin and fur are certainly not the perfect camouflage. Still, he can't change that, and he has to hunt.

He doesn't like to fish the river. Zerads, reptilian semi-aquatic animals with powerful tails, taloned front legs, and sharp teeth, tend to swim in small packs through it, and being alone means that he's an easier target for them to pick off, especially since his shorter reach means that he can't scare them off with his claws when he needs to. But the fish are the most readily available source of food that he can get as it is, and he needs to eat something today and every day as he works his way towards his cycle. If he doesn't-- Dabi shudders to think of the horror stories he was told killed their layers during times of famine. Eggs not forming correctly, eggs shattering inside of the layer's bodies and piercing them with the sharp fragments of shells leaving them to die slow, agonizing deaths. He has managed to avoid those things so far, but he needs to make certain that he's getting the food he needs if he wants to keep avoiding that. If that means risking fishing the river and forcing himself to eat the fish, then he doesn't really have a choice but to try it.

Dabi is about to climb down from the trees to start his fishing, when he spots tracks in the snow. He frowns and slinks down a bit further to try and get a better look. His fur bristles. The rounded toe and strange regular, intricate patterns that are pressed into the ground are not the same as the other kinds of these prints they started finding around the village a year ago, not the shape of any creature's natural foot and that makes him bristle. His ears twitch, listening all the more carefully to hear anything moving around him, but only the light breeze through the trees and birdsong in the distance. He was already being cast away when the tall creatures came into their neighbor's territory and stole the eggs from their brood layer. But from what he heard along the edges of things were that they had strange flesh, and that they left tracks in the snow with no toes. Great. Just what he needs, another potential predator to deal with. Dabi hisses at the footprints as if that will make the frustration disappear, before he continues along the bank of the stream. He doesn't see any signs of Zerads for the moment and perches on the edge to watch and wait. 

It takes the better part of the night, but he manages to spear three large fish on his talons and that take is a relief. He carries them back to his den and tucks himself into the sparse nest. The fish taste foul, he has never liked fish at all, and their bones aren't going to offer as much nutrients as he is likely to need when it comes to being able to form a healthy eggshell, but he needs anything he can get and he forces himself to take large bites and only chew enough not to choke, swallowing the mess down as quickly as he can. The egg he managed to lay last cycle casts the images of his pack along the walls, but it doesn't really make him feel any less lonely as he sits in the thin layer of needles that is nothing like the nest that they used to make for his mother or Shoto. 

///

The next evening he wakes again, not ravenous thanks to his meal the night before, but with the knowledge that he has to go on a proper hunt today. He needs to eat real meat, he needs real bones, and he is so small. He slips from his den and goes through the trees again, this time moving away from the river to try and find something he can pounce on from up high. His people can climb, but they usually choose to hunt on foot, fanning out in a semi-circle and closing in on a target when one has been located. Dabi can't hunt like that, not only because he's alone, but because his strange coloration means that he isn't nearly invisible in the snow. He blends in better up in snowy branches and he only has a chance at catching something if he takes his prey by surprise. So he learned how to climb the trees better than any other Salkeh and now he can dart through the branches looking for his prey. 

He has to travel far from his den to find what he's looking for and it is a miserable realization when he finds a small herd of Vaak curled up and sleeping. There are three babies being guarded by their mother, the animal quadrupedal with thick gray-brown fur, large sharp antlers, sharp beak, and sensitive large ears. He knows if he moves any closer, if he tries to pounce with her around, she will wake and attempt to gore him. He doesn't know if he's fast enough to kill one of the babies and drag its body back up into the trees to feast on, especially not since the babies are nearly the same size as him and he really has no hope of carrying that corpse above ground all the way back home. 

Which means he has to stay until the mother leaves in the morning to go find food for her young. His instincts rebel at the thought of not being in his den for the entire day. But this could be a proper feast for him and the bones will help his egg form so much better. He fights his instincts, resigns himself, and stays where he is, curling up to sleep until the sun rises. Hopefully the mother will leave then and he'll be able to kill the babies before she can return. 

///

Tomura camps for two days, learning through his sensors that this quiet forest is teeming with life. There are a variety of small creatures that live in the trees, many more that roam the forest, but so far none of them have been the BMN-019 that he is looking for. He, thankfully, determines this from his tent where he is doing his best to try and convince himself he doesn't hate the cold more than he hates, well, anything else in the entire universe, but still. It's not until the third day that the sensor by the river goes off and as he checks the scan that it made of the creature's body, he finally gets the jolt of electricity that goes through him when he's found his target. The image the sensor is able to project is only of the creature's silhouette but it matches what he was told to expect for the most part, though seeing the creature in three dimensions shows him just how small it really is. It barely would reach his waist if he were standing beside it. He supposes that would put him right at disemboweling height the way the first scouts were. Still, that is good information to have.

The sensor indicates that the creature stays for a few hours, but it is pitch black outside. He is not about to go trekking through the snow in a dark forest, alone, on a foreign planet. That is a recipe for getting himself killed and losing his target forever. If the creature goes to the river to eat, then he can hike closer tomorrow when the sun is high and prepare to keep an eye on the area closely enough to actually act if it comes there again. It is another miserable night to sleep in the cold, but he will certainly need the rest for tomorrow, so Tomura forces himself to settle. 

In the morning, he gathers what he needs and then hikes out to where the sensor indicated. He stays down wind of the tracks and near the tree line, trying to ensure that the creature won't spot him as he waits and watches to see if the being will show itself. The day passes without the target showing its face, but as the sky grows dark and he feels the stirrings of his exhaustion starting to pull at his senses, Tomura gets his first glimpse of the creature. Through the night vision goggles, he can't tell the exact coloration of the creature, but it does have darker patches across its body that he was told to expect and it is very small as he watches it climb up into the trees instead of going to fish the river again. He tries to move through the forest beneath it at a safe distance. It is even harder to do when trying to keep from being smelled or spotted, but if the creature leaves the canopy, then he can use his tranquilizer gun to knock it out and restrain it. When it wakes he'll try speaking to it and determining if it's a person or an animal.

The creature moves through the trees gracefully, its long claws catching the bark as it jumps from tree to tree, its tail streaking behind him and lilting this way and that to help him keep his balance as it moves. Tomura watches closely and carefully, taking note of how it moves and how quickly a casual pace is for the nimble creature. He has no doubt that it will be much faster than him if it wanted to run. It searches the forest, hunting, Tomura thinks, as he recognizes the randomness of how it scans the environment. 

It finds what it's looking for after a few hours, and Tomura lingers a good way outside of the creature's range of hearing as he sees it settle into a tree above another small group of creatures. He tries to look up the designation of those, but Proximacard's public records for potential settlers are abysmal, and he can't get into the classified ones without his ship's computer. But the animals on the forest floor are sleeping in a tight bundle and his target watches them, pacing along a branch for a moment or two before he decides to settle into the bows of the tree, seemingly to sleep. Tomura can't allow himself that luxury, and he settles to watch the creature through the frigid night.

///

It takes until two hours after sunrise for the mother to leave her babies, and even then, Dabi waits another hour, his stomach hollow and gnawing again, before he thinks it will be safe for him to drop onto the nest. He can't eat all three of the Vaak in one sitting, but he will try to kill as many of them as possible. If he does then he can butcher them for the richest parts of their bodies, gorge himself on what he can eat, and then drag back whatever he can't. He moves along the branch until he is just above their nest bracing himself for the fall. The babies sleep soundly in the snow. 

He drops down, his weight, even so slight, from that distance is enough to crack the spine of the one he lands on top of which begins to scream its agony. But it doesn't manage to move, so Dabi ignores that and instead goes for the other two that are starting to thrash and try to gouge his flesh with their beaks. But his soft fur is much tougher than it looks and the attacks slash, but cannot pierce without them putting the force of a true bite behind it. He twists to find the throat of the second baby and sinks his teeth into the flesh, tearing out the throat and pulling away to find the third before it can even gurgle its last breath drowned in blood. He knows it will die, and he needs to ensure he takes the third as well. That one he throws his body on top of as it tries to flee the nest, stabbing his claws through its ribs and rending its insides into shreds. It collapses beneath him and the one that was screaming its pain only screams for a moment longer before he returns to it and snaps its neck completely. Dabi licks at the blood on his mouth, satisfaction humming through him, as he sees the feast he has made for himself. He listens carefully to ensure the mother isn't rushing back to her nest, and when he doesn't hear any movement but the breeze through the trees, he separates the bodies from each other so that he has room to work. 

If he were home, if he had a pack to keep him safe, he would be much more meticulous in skinning his kills. but right now he just wants to be certain that he eats his fill and has the best parts to bring home with him. He uses his claws to carve the muscular back legs off, the thick bones inside will be full of marrow and will make the consuming of those more pleasant. He opens the chest cavities to find the liver and takes the bulk of fat and meat from the abdominal section as well, getting many pounds of it that he knows will be very hard for him to take back home with him, so he eats that first. Dabi barely chews, knowing that will make it take longer to fill his stomach, and the meat is so slick with blood anyway that it goes down his throat easily enough. The more he can get inside before his body feels full, the less that he will have to waste or carry back with him. 

He is about halfway through the first body before there is a distant click and then a sudden, sharp thud against his thigh. Dabi yelps, startled, whipping around with his teeth bared to try and find whatever hit him. But there isn't anything that he can see. Still. He doesn't like that and quickly checks to ensure that his fur beneath his skin is unharmed before he pulls back and gulps down two more large fistfuls of meat before he grabs a section of one of the baby's intestines. He squeezes out as much filth from them as possible, and then he uses those to lash the legs together so that he will have an easier time of carrying them. He still doesn't hear anything, so he climbs back up into the tree with his spoils, and starts to make his way back home, hoping to get there before the fullness sets in and he's able to sleep for the rest of the day, knowing he won't be hungry for the next several. 

///

Tomura sits back in shock as he watches the tranq dart hit the creature's back flank and bounce off into the snow. He ducks lower in his cover as the creature, small and definitely his target with its patches of dark and light fur, whips around to see what hit it, but the dart is lost in the thick red-stained snow. When the target doesn't find an obvious source of the pain, it goes back to its food. From just watching the creature, Tomura can't determine if it is more or less animal than he was expecting. He only knows that it is particular about the sections that it eats. It's not until a few minutes later as he watches it use the innards of one of its kills to tie the limbs it selected to take with it in a bundle, that Tomura starts to lean towards this being a sapient species, and not an animal. Using tools is not always a clear indicator of a species having human-level or greater intelligence, but it certainly lends itself to that interpretation. The target goes back up into the trees and despite his exhaustion, Tomura follows after it again. He wants to know if this creature has a den, or a pack, or anything that could help him understand it better. 

They trek back through the forest, back to the river, and then he watches from the denser forest as the creature scales the side of the mountain, moving through snow and rock until it slips away into a little crevice in the stones and Tomura loses sight of it. Well, that is something, he supposes. He knows now, at least generally, where the creature is making its home. He goes back to his campsite so that he can sleep after such a long day and dreads his next steps. He may not be certain, but he is more suspicious of this creature being part of a people, not an animal , and that means that he not only won't get the payout for this job, but he will have to decide if he's going to risk trying to make contact with it, if only to tell the creature what danger it and its species are in if they don't get registered by someone as a sapient species. 

He would much rather go back to his tent to sleep, but instead he hikes all the way back to the carcasses that the creature left behind, the mother of them nowhere to be found. He goes to the bodies and carves out as much additional meat as he can, getting a few pounds of it that he knows will keep in the cold. Then he heads back to his campsite and packs that up as well before moving it much closer to the river and where the creature makes its den. It's only once he has all of that re-established that he makes himself sleep, already dreading the next few steps he has to deal with in this situation he's found himself in. 

///

Tomura ends up having to wait another day and a half before the creature comes out of its burrow again. It goes off into the trees and he slips out of his tent to leave some of the strips of meat near where it climbs down from the mountain. He also makes sure to leave a strip of cloth that has his scent on it. There's about a fifty-fifty chance that makes the creature start to associate him with food as a provider or as a potential target, but he would rather get the target to start smelling him a bit. Maybe it will make him less likely to tear out his entrails when he does end up having to approach the creature. 

After another hour or two, it comes back, hesitating in the canopy as it spots the meat. It watches and waits for forty-five minutes before it carefully moves down the tree and over to the pile, ears rotating as it listens for anything beyond the sound of the rushing water. But it investigates the meat, finds the cloth and gives it a sniff, and then takes that along with the large bundle of seed pods and pine needles back up to its lair. Tomura is starting to wonder what else he could leave there for it that might tempt it to stay longer, but after about five minutes, the creature comes back down the side of the mountain to retrieve the food. It snatches it up quickly and darts back up the side of the mountain and he's glad he has more of it. 

This routine continues for three more days. On the first he leaves another bit of the meat and another little piece of cloth for the creature before it leaves its burrow for the night, and when it comes down the side of the mountain it paces around for a long while before it takes a chunk of the meat to the river. It catches a fish with it and Tomura's stomach sinks as he realizes that it was testing it for poison, as it makes the fish eat the chunk and then keeps a hold of it in the water. It hangs on for half an hour before it seems to determine the fish is not going to die unless its claws sink in on accident, and it leaves the fish be before gathering the cloth and the food and going back up into its den. It doesn't come back out for the rest of the night. 

On the second he leaves what is left of the meat and a small sensor. He doesn't know if the creature will figure that out or not, but if it takes it into its burrow, then Tomura will be able to see if there is a whole pack waiting inside. He watches and the creature ignores the offerings tonight, instead going to the forest and gathering more plant matter before coming back and picking up the meat. It pauses as it finds the sensor, tapping at it, even biting on part of the edge and Tomura is mildly dismayed to see that corner shatter right off. The creature spits and sputters as it tastes the metal and plastic and lobs the whole thing into the river before it takes the meat and vegetation up to its den. 

The third day, though he loathes to do it, he gives up one of his thermal blankets. He has more than one, and he takes the one that he's been sleeping with and that has been saturated with his scent to where he has been leaving his offerings and then sits, just on the edge of the treeline, only hidden enough so that he doesn't think the other will spot him immediately when it comes down the slope. And he waits again. 

The creature comes down, investigating the blanket and not treating it as if it's food, thank god. Instead the creature starts to make small soft chirps and purrs as it picks up the fabric and bundles it to its chest. He can see the creature smelling it, its tail swaying softly over the snow as it closes its eyes and presses its face into the fabric. Tomura is struck with how cute the creature looks as it does so after seeing how vicious it was in its hunting before. He hesitates, but he shifts slightly, making himself a little more visible and the creature's head snaps up out of the fabric, its big, bright blue eyes scanning the area and locking onto him quickly. 

It bares its teeth and hisses, "Egg thief!" Short, sharp guttural sounds that Tomura can't understand before it drops the fabric like it's burned him before it darts back up the side of the mountain and disappears again. 

Well. He can't say that went exactly as planned. 

///

Dabi watches from the edge of his burrow as the egg thief waits about an hour before moving over to the bundle of soft, warm hide and begins to fold it. He doesn't know what animal it was made of, but it felt so good under his skin, smelled good and masculine the way the other little hide strips that had been left with the food from before did, and his stomach sinks. He had thought... he had thought, just for a moment, that he was being courted by someone. That some other exiled or lonely person had found him and was trying to give him food and materials to build his nest so he might be more inclined to let them join him when his heat comes. But instead the egg thief, one and a half of him tall and still would be towering at least two heads above even his father, with its thick blotchy skin and reflective insectoid eyes, had been trying to trick him. The thief makes the hide neat again and then goes back to the trees. Dabi watches him until he cannot see anymore, and even then, stays perched in the entryway for the rest of the night, ensuring that the thief does not come back. When the sun does finally rise he goes to his half-formed nest and starts to eat again. He got so much more food, both from his main kill and from the thief bringing everything he couldn't take as offering, but he will still need to go on another big hunt or another few smaller ones before his heat comes. He had been so excited about the hide, it would have easily filled out the rest of his nest, but now he will have to work twice as hard to get everything he needs so that he doesn't die during his heat. 

He eats and forces himself into a fitful sleep when the sun rises. Tonight, he decides, he will finish his nest, with or without that hide. 

///

When Dabi wakes again he pokes his head out of his burrow. The hide is where it was before and he scans the trees to try and find the thief for a few minutes before he darts back down and snatches it from the snow and brings it back up. He shakes the thing out, trying to find anything in it or on it that may be dangerous, but all that does is kick up the air around him and leave his burrow soaked in the scent of the thief. It's a shame that he smells so good, like crisp water and a musk that speaks of being a hunter that makes Dabi feel the first stirrings of arousal. He pushes that away and tucks the hide all around his nest, so big and soft that it fills it out perfectly and makes it much cozier. He wants nothing more than to get right back in, but if he wants to have his heat be perfect, to make it easy after the last one nearly killed him, he needs to do more. 

Dabi goes back out and spends the rest of the night gathering more and more of the seed pods to break, opening them letting piles and piles of white fluff come out that he can stuff under the hide to cushion him from the floor and keep him and his egg as warm as possible even as he will be sweating to cool off desperately. The one thing he will say for being on his own, is that no one seems to be hunting this narrow strip of territory, so finding places where piles and piles of them have gathered isn't very hard. 

He brings them back and growls when he sees the thief, a blotchy white and gray dot on the edge of the trees again, and it stays where it is, even lifting an arm to ensure that he has taken notice. 

"Leave!" Dabi snarls in the creature's direction, holding his pods tight, debating if he should attempt to kill the creature or if he should continue hiding in his burrow. He doesn't know if that thing can climb with its thick, nubbly fingers and feet with no toes or claws to grip the ice and stones, but the rumor had been they also travel in pairs. He doesn't know if he's seen one or two of the creatures, but the hide only smelled like one. 

"I don't mean any harm." The voice that comes out of the creature is even more unsettling because it doesn't have a mouth. It makes sounds that are too regular, that must be speech of some sort, but that Dabi cannot understand, and it does so without a mouth. He doesn't think that it’s an unfair reaction for that to frighten him enough to dart back up to his den as fast as he can possibly go. The thief doesn't chase after him, but he stays in the clearing for hours after Dabi has hidden himself away. 

///

The next day the thief is gone. Dabi combs the area, he smells around and finds the place where his scent goes strong enough that he thinks the other may have made its own den, but he doesn't venture too close, afraid of getting trapped on the ground. But the scent smells a little stale, and the day after that it is even fainter. Fine. Maybe he moved on. Dabi certainly has to if he wants to get the food he will need to push him into his heat that he can feel getting closer by the day. He tries to hunt, but he doesn't have the luck he did before, and before the night ends, he's back at the river, doing his best to snag a few disgusting fish to just ensure his stomach stays full.

When he wakes again, it's with him coming sharply out of sleep with panic roaring through his veins as the smell of burning fills his den. Oh stars, oh no, no, no. Dabi keens mournfully as he leaves his nest, his den, his eggs behind as he runs out of the cave, needing to get as far away from the forest fire as--

He bursts out into the sunlight, and there is smoke on the air, but the trees are not burning. Instead, down below, the egg thief has a small fire, contained in a circle of stones, and beside him is the carcass of a full-grown Vaak. The egg thief looks up at him as he bursts out into the sunlight and lifts its hand again. 

"Good morning." 

Dabi cannot understand the words any more than he can the sight laid out in front of him and he stares down at the egg thief. The creature has removed the outer layer of its face, and he distantly realizes that must have been a hide or something that he was wearing over his head. Because he does have a real face, eyes that remind Dabi of his own though they are smaller and the color of blood, his hair is long and white, but it has been tied back into a bundle at the back of his head, save for a few wavy sections that spill over his face. He has a nose and lips, but his ears are smaller and stuck to the sides of his head instead of the top, and they do not twitch or rotate the way that Dabi's can. He has markings, but they are smaller than Dabi's own, just some texture across his lips and around his eyes, and two short little stripes over the side of his mouth and one eye. 

The thief lowers his hand and pulls a stick out of the fire, then sets it to the side. Dabi watches as he moves over to the vaak's body and carves another section of meat from its corpse using a sharpened something that shines brighter than even Dabi's jet claws. He then pulls the chunk from the stick and the bloody piece and looks back up at him, offering both. He stares and after another second the creature speaks again, 

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come here and have some food." The words are foreign and confusing, but the tone he uses is low and soft, only just loud enough to carry to where he is perched, and he knows that tone from how his mother spoke to his younger siblings. Does he think that he is a child that he can steal away? 

Dabi hisses at him. "Go away!" 

The thief tosses the two pieces of meat up the side of the mountain, to on top of one of the boulders that make up the rocky face a few feet below him. "There's plenty for you to eat if you come down to see me." 

He's torn between hissing at the other again, possibly leaping from the stones and trying to get his claws and teeth into his throat and watch the blood gurgle there until he chokes on it, and... accepting the... courting presents. That must be what these are. Only a potential mate would bring things for his nest, would bring him food, would talk in that tone of voice? Did the thieves realize they couldn't steal away the eggs, so they decided that they would court a mate for them instead? Dabi hisses at him and stomps his way back into his burrow to go to sleep. 

Some thief. He curls up into a tight ball in his nest and tries to go back to sleep, his nose still filled with the scent of the strange creature. He clearly doesn't know that Dabi is alone because he's not worthy of having a mate in the first place. 

///

Tomura keeps the fire going and he slowly butchers the animal he caught the previous day into neat sections. He carves away the legs and breaks them down at the knee joint so that the thick flanks are separated from the thin ankles and hooves the way he had watched the target do with the babies. He takes out as much meat as he can and separates the liver as well. It's cold enough that the corpse will keep for days, and the smoke of the fire, rather than attracting any other creatures, seems to have very effectively scared them all off the way that his target had looked so frightened as it came barreling out of its den to the smell. 

Tomura has a miserable knot in his gut throughout the day. That creature made different sounds at him when he tried to coax it closer with the food. Not just hisses or growls, it had very clearly waited for him to finish speaking and then deliberately articulated, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared in a snarl. He can't pretend that this isn't a person anymore, but that just makes this all so much worse. Other people won't care, they'll do their very best to hide that fact for as long as possible, they might even try to figure out how to lobotomize the creatures when they get them into captivity so they'll just be egg producers for anyone who wants to indulge in the beautiful shells. He is a criminal on thirty planets for the animals he's hunted, but at least he knew those were animals. He hasn't ever done something so vile to a person, and the thought of leaving the strange, vicious, fluffy little creature to suffer whatever fate the next poacher inflicts on it is not something he can stomach either. 

It's a few hours after sundown when the creature reemerges from its den and it pokes its head out, sees him, and actually hisses this time, his ears pinned back and his tail whipping around behind him. Tomura wishes that he could just use the translator himself, but if this is a completely unregistered species, then it won't have the first clue how to translate his language for him, the model not nearly as advanced as others on the market because he hasn't ever needed a more sophisticated one. 

"I have more food." He offers calmly. The creature hasn't tried to attack him yet, and he moved into the center of the snowy field, far enough from the mountain and the trees so that he's certain it won't be able to pounce on him from above like he saw it do when it hunted before. 

"Go away! I'm not a mate!" The creature pairs the words with a big arm motion, trying to shoo him away. Tomura ignores that and gestures for him to come down, then picks up another piece of meat and offers that. The creature looks at him incredulously, stomps one of its feet and huffs before it moves parallel to him until it can jump from the edge of the stones into the nearest tree, then it disappears again. Tomura leaves the meat behind, puts on his goggles so he can see, and follows after it.

He doesn't bother to sneak this time, just staying a few yards behind and keeping one hand on the hilt of his knife just in case it lunges for him. But otherwise, when the creature carefully descends from the trees to start to gather even more of the seed pods, Tomura starts to do the same. Mirroring is something that many species do to show that they're not threatening, and he hopes that his mirroring will help to make the creature less frightened of him. The small creature spots him doing that and glares at him. 

He's much closer than he has been to his target before, and he can see human-like features in the set of its face. Its eyes are larger than a persons and its irises are such a bright blue that Tomura doesn't think he's ever seen that color occur naturally before. It has a small pointed nose and thin well-defined lips that cover the sharp teeth when it isn’t sneering at him, all of them sharp but its incisors are much larger on the tops and bottom of its jaw. The fine, tough fur that covers its body is littered with patches of dark blue under its bright eyes, across its cheeks and down the lower half of its jaw to his collarbone, along its arms, stomach, legs and chest, more dark patches than light and it sticks out fiercely among the snow. It has four fingers on each hand and three toes, long black talons curving off of each like a raptor, the back of its ankle even has a larger dew claw that he has seen the creature use to grip onto branches and stones. Its tail is long and thin, topped with a thicker tuft of longer fur, and its head has hair, not just fur, a shaggy mess of it that looks like it was hacked into the spiky shape around its head and spilling over its forehead and cheeks by the creature's claws. And it really is so small. Maybe four feet tall. Tomura is almost never the tallest human in a room, but he feels like a giant when he looks down at this creature. 

His target hisses at him again and makes a shooing motion and Tomura shakes his head and offers it more of the seed pods. It huffs, takes what it's gathered, and climbs back up into the tree instead. That's fine. For now, Tomura has the time to be patient. 

///

It takes another three days. Every evening when the creature emerges from its den, Tomura offers it bits of the frozen carcass, and he can see the creature's resolve starting to waver at the massive feast that is being offered to it. But it tries to tell him to leave anyway. He stays. He brings more of the seed pods too, he digs through his things until he finds another blanket, not a thermal one, just a thin, small scrap of fabric that he hasn't used in years, and he offers that as well. 

And it takes three days, but the creature finally huffs, paces around, and eventually descends. It still skirts around the edge of his little area and Tomura tries to seem calm and relaxed, very carefully gesturing for it to come closer as he offers some of the meat. The target stays back, darting in just close enough to grab one of the legs instead. It goes halfway up the mountain again as it starts to eat and Tomura lets it do so. He watches as it sets into the frozen flesh ravenously, crunching through the bone and swallowing the marrow and shards as easily as the meat. It manages to eat the entire thing, looking up at him constantly like it's waiting to be attacked, but Tomura just keeps trying to be calm and unthreatening. The creature eats the leg and then eyes the other butchered pile of meat. Tomura offers it again, 

"You can have as much as you want." 

The creature looks nervous and tired, but it comes a little closer again and takes the frozen liver. That was the only specific organ he noticed missing in the babies, and Tomura hoped that would be its favorite. It takes that and gobbles it up as well and Tomura waits. It slinks over to the river to drink, keeping one eye on him the entire time and Tomura watches quietly. There are another few minutes of time that pass, but the creature does eventually come a  little closer, keeping the fire between their bodies. 

He lifts a hand and presses it to his chest. "Tomura." 

The creature considers him for a long moment, then mirrors the motion, "Dabi." 

And Tomura is finally able to breathe a little easier as he offers the blanket too. 

///

He doesn't understand why the thief, Tomura, seems so bound and determined to court him, but after days of him sitting outside of his burrow and the feast he procured a constant offering promising Dabi that his heat will not be one of misery, he finally breaks and goes to actually get closer to the other creature. Tomura moves slowly and carefully, like he is trying very hard not to spook him, like he's a frightened animal, but he wonders if the size of him is what makes that a necessity. He's so large compared to others of his kind and he clearly is a skilled hunter to have taken a Vaak alone and without claws or sharp teeth. They sit together for a few hours and the thief periodically offers him more food. Dabi declines. He would love to gorge himself, but he can't let himself relax that much. 

About halfway through the night, Tomura very slowly reaches into a pouch on the side of the hide that he is wearing over his body and Dabi bristles, but he pulls out a strip of cloth that has a darker square of what looks like the same material as the hard puck that had been left with the second offering of the meat. It's not something that he recognizes and Tomura holds it between his strange hands. He lets Dabi examine the cloth from his side of the fire and then brings it up to his neck, miming adding it to what he is already wearing before pulling it away from his neck and pointing to him. 

For him. Something to wear. Dabi wonders if this is a courtship item from his culture, if the puck was too. He isn't certain that he should accept it when his eggs will never be fertile. If the creature wants to be his mate, then he should know that. Dabi shakes his head. He doesn't know how to tell the thief that he isn't worth the time and effort that he is putting into this courtship. He puts his hand low on his pelvis, where the pouch of his egg will form as he gets into his heat and he whines softly, shaking his head again. 

The thief frowns at him and puts the hide back into the pouch and then offers Dabi more food. It would be sweet if it weren't so sad. Dabi takes that offering and then leaves the fire, going back up to his den, but Tomura calls after him. He half turns to look and sees he's offering another hide, a bigger one like the one he's already added to his nest. Dabi's chest tightens so sharply. This creature is trying so hard to be a good mate. He carefully approaches, still worried that he might lunge for him. But Tomura offers him the hide, letting go of it when it's in Dabi's claws, and he pulls it to his chest. It doesn't smell as good as the other did, it's not as thick, but it's still too much to give someone like him. 

"You should leave." He tells the other, putting the hide back on the ground between them, and using his other hand to try and shoo him again. "I can't be your mate." 

Tomura very deliberately shakes his head. Dabi churrs, huffs, and goes back up to his den. 

But Tomura is still there and waiting for him the next morning. 

///

He offers the scrap of hide for the next day and a half, and no matter how often he rejects it, how frequently Dabi tries to tell him to leave, even resorting to throwing handfuls of snow at the other to try and chase him off, the thief doesn't waver. And the longer he lingers, the deeper that a warmth starts to bloom in his body, telling him again and again that he needs something, and that something should be a mate now that he has plenty of food and a warm, safe nest for his egg. It's those instincts he has been trying so hard to ignore that have him reaching for the hide. Tomura confuses him when he withdraws it, trying to get him to come closer. 

Dabi is still wary, but he moves so that he's within arm's reach of the other creature, his claws ready to go for his throat if he tries to harm him. Tomura mimes wrapping the hide strip around his own neck again and then gestures at Dabi. Oh. He hesitates, his ears pulling back and his tail flicking wildly, but he forces himself to tilt his head back and bare his throat. Tomura moves very slowly as he leans into his space and Dabi gets a stronger whiff of his scent, the warmth of his skin sending him purring softly even through his nervousness as he prepares himself to attack if this is a trick. The thief brings the hide around his neck, and the bit that was like the puck is heavier than the scratchy hide. He slots it into place and there's a soft whirring sound that comes from the thing that Dabi doesn't understand. Tomura leans back out of his space and smiles. 

"There, can you say something for me?" He can't understand the words, but the other mimics speech and Dabi frowns. 

"What is this?"

The whirring gets louder and then Dabi startles as there's a little shock against the side of his neck like when there is lightning in the air. 

"It's okay--" Tomura says in his language. Dabi's head whips back to him and he snarls. Tomura holds up his hands placatingly. "It's okay, it's not going to do that again. It just had to connect to you so that you will be able to understand me. You can understand me now, can't you?" He lowers one hand very slowly to one of his pouches and extracts a little... shell? Something hard and shiny black that opens. He takes a rigid larva out of it and raises it to one of his strange ears, slipping it inside. 

"I--I-- if you could speak all this time, why were you--" he gestures as if that can encapsulate all of the stranger's behaviors up to this point. 

"I can't speak your language." The other tells him, "And you can't speak mine. This earpiece," He points at the thing he stuck inside. "And that collar, connect us so we can understand each other now." He waits to see if Dabi has anything to say to that, but he is just stunned and quiet. He has never heard of such a thing. "My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I'm a human from the planet Earth." 

There's another long pause, but eventually he makes himself croak, "I don't have a pack name anymore." 

Tomura frowns slightly. "Is that different from 'Dabi'?" 

He barely manages to nod. "'Dabi' is my name in exile." His chest tightens, "I was expelled from my pack-- I'm broken, my coloration is wrong, I still lay even though my brother was chosen to be the nest barer--" he has to tell him these things, he has to get this... human to understand that he isn't worth all of this trouble, that he can't be a mate. "My eggs aren't--" 

"People, other species from places besides this one," Tomura cuts him off, his eyes intense, "Want to steal them from you. They think that your people are animals, and they want to steal you away so that you can lay the eggs for them to sell." 

His stomach lurches sharply. "...What?" 

Tomura takes a breath and starts to speak for a long time. 

///

It takes several hours, the sun rising on the clearing again, by the time Tomura has finished telling Dabi everything that he needs to. He doesn't have the training that planet surveyors do to tell a new native species that they are not alone in the universe, but he does what he can. Dabi listens to him, he only asks a few questions, and he can see the small creature grappling with everything he's been told. 

"...I can escort you to the Proximacard settlement where you can get your species registered as sapient and start negotiations with them--"

"They are the ones who told your people," he has never had a qualm about his profession before he hears how Dabi says that, "To steal our eggs." He whines low in his throat, "Would they even listen?" And there's a hopeless fear in his voice that scratches at that bare bit of conscious that has kept him here trying to figure out how to help Dabi and his people, Salkeh, instead of leaving when he realized that they weren't the animals he had thought he should expect. 

"I don't know." He admits and then, before he can use his better judgment and stop himself, he goes on, "I can also take you off planet to the nearest hub. I can bring you to a galactic outpost, and you can get registered directly with someone there who isn't associated with them. They'll work out what they can do to help make sure it is a lot harder for anyone to come here and try to hurt your people." 

Dabi looks so forlorn and helpless for a long moment. "How long would that take?" 

"The nearest planet," that he can go to and that doesn't have an outstanding warrant against him, "Is about a day and a half's flight. I don't know how long getting completely registered will take, but just going and telling them that your species is a people and not animals will make them send non-Proximacard people here to make certain that Proximacard isn't doing anything illegal-- like trying to take your eggs." 

"I... okay. They'll have to find someone else-- I'm an outcast. I can't speak for all Salkeh." 

"Now that I have a sample of your language, they will be able to reach out in your people's tongue. Hopefully that will be enough to keep anyone else from being disemboweled?" 

Dabi shrugs weakly, like he doesn't know and is too caught up in everything else that has already happened to make a decision now. 

"You can take some time if you need it," he offers reluctantly. He doesn't know what learning this kind of thing about the world would do to a species that is still in the hunter-gatherer stage of evolution. He's not even certain, as far as legality goes, if Proximacard would be allowed to set foot on this planet if they'd known about this. "But not too long. I'm not the only person who is interested in your species." 

"Okay." Dabi reaches for the collar. 

"You can leave that on, unless it's causing discomfort. I'll leave in my earpiece. If we are within ten yards of each other then we'll be able to talk." 

Dabi's hand drops away and he just nods, barely looking at him. 

"You can take as much of the meat as you want too." 

"...I'm not giving you my egg." 

"I don't want it. I just brought this because I was hoping that you would talk to me if I showed that I wasn't a threat." 

Dabi's ears pull back, not into sharp points, but almost flat down into his hair and his tail curls around one of his ankles. "...Right. Of course." He doesn't take anything else as he goes back up to his den. It's too far for him to hear the other's voice through the piece. 

///

The next time he sees Dabi is well through half of the night and he is going to have to tell the other man that he is diurnal, not nocturnal, because he is seriously starting to feel the lack of sleep he's been getting over since arriving here. Dabi slinks down the edge of the cliff and comes over to the carcass, picking up another leg before he drags it closer and starts to gnaw on it. 

Between bites he asks, "Do you not eat meat?" 

"I do, but I don't know what on your planet is safe for humans. We have people who determine that through different methods, but I don't have the equipment for that." He takes the water bottle from his belt, "If I didn't have this, I couldn't even safely drink the water on this planet. There are some planets where I can't even breathe because of the different environments. If you come with me, when we dock, I'll have to call the outpost and they'll send someone to see you to determine if you can leave the ship safely, if not, they'll probably come with us back here to fully register you." The only reason he's bothering to take Dabi instead of just going himself to tell them is because he doesn't want the guy to get captured or killed by any other poachers that may arrive while he's gone. He can't even just try to put a call through to the proper authorities because it will be filtered through to Proximacard because they have settling rights on the planet and they'll just report back that the Salkeh are not conclusively a people. Bringing Dabi somewhere it won't be possible for that information to be buried should help actually keep his people from being rounded up and sold to slavers. 

Dabi rolls those things around in his head for a minute and crunches into the bone of the leg again. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"What?" 

"Do all of your people lay eggs?" The translator has assigned his speech the masculine forms of words, which is how Tomura has been able to guess his gender now, but he has no visible sex organs or any recognizable secondary sex characteristics that he would have expected from another creature. 

"...We're not supposed to." Dabi mumbles, hunching in on himself and making his already small body even tinier. "Packs are made of a mated pair and then whatever clutch they are able to raise over the years. The mates pick one of their children to be the one to continue the line and they are allowed to keep laying throughout their life and look for a mate, the other children become the hunters and guardians for the layer. My youngest brother was picked to do that for my family, my sister, second brother, and I were supposed to be hunters, but I kept laying anyway. I tried to stop it, but it only delays it, and it makes me sick." Dabi hesitates, but he keeps eating, and when he swallows again he mumbles, "They sent me away. We can't sustain a pack that has two layers, and my coloration isn't... right. I'm too noticeable when we hunt." 

"I had a hard time spotting you at night going through the trees." It's not much of a compliment, but the little creature looks so forlorn that Tomura wants to try to offer something comforting. 

"We normally hunt by foot, during the day. I'm... compensating for my shortcomings." 

"If you're surviving fine on your own then your differences aren't shortcomings." He says a little more firmly. That, at least, he can be genuine about. "None of the rest of your pack have survived alone, have they?" 

Dabi considers the words, considers him, and then shrugs slightly, his tail flicking a bit. "I don't know." He shifts, turning slightly away from him as he focuses on his meal, making it very clear he's finished with this line of conversation. 

Tomura doesn't push him on that. He's supposed to be building trust with the other man. He doubts he'll get him onto his ship otherwise. 

///

Dabi isn't sure about any of the things that Tomura tells him. He didn't know there were other people out in the sky, he didn't know there were worlds that were like his but not, that the creatures invading their forests and stealing their eggs were looking for something pretty rather than stealing them away to eat. What he knows most sharply from his conversations with Tomura is that... he isn't looking for a mate. He never was. He only gave him the things he did to try and get him close enough to put the collar on him so they could speak. Tomura brought him gifts to tell Dabi what danger he is in, and that is all he did it for. He never intended to do anything else. 

And Dabi is aching with his hurt every time he goes and curls into his big, warm, fluffy nest with his stomach full. His mother had never had such a lush nest, his father and all of them had never been able to provide her or Shoto such luxury when their heats came. But Tomura doesn't seem to know or even understand any of that. He only means to try to do right by his whole people. That shouldn't sting so badly, but as the smell of the human fades and fades from the blankets, it's the scent of his sorrow that replaces it. Not even the monster his people feared could want someone as broken as him. 

///

"Tomura?" Dabi asks as he comes to the fire. Tomura finishes adding the sections of wood that he gathered earlier in the day and looks up at him. The smaller man looks up at him, his ears pulled down again and his tail flicking by his ankles, like a guilty dog. 

"What is it? Did something happen?" 

Dabi shakes his head slightly, but his head is still down. "How long will it take?" 

"A day and a half to travel there, but they should send someone to the docking bay immediately when I tell them you're with me. I don't know how long they would make me confine you to my ship as they checked you out, but I don't think it would be more than a few days, otherwise they would probably just have me bring you back here so that you wouldn't be off your planet for too long. Maybe a week?" He hopes that it wouldn't be longer than that. He's already spent a lot of time on this job and he's sure the file is properly in circulation now. If they don't sort this out quickly, then the likelihood of other Salkeh getting taken away is absolutely going to go up. 

Dabi shifts on his feet. "I can't leave for two weeks," he says and Tomura wants to argue. "I need medicine if I'm going to try." 

"Medicine?" 

"It's almost time for me to lay my egg. I can hold it off, but I need the fruit from a special tree. If I have enough of the fruit I can push it back for a little while." 

Tomura would almost laugh if Dabi didn't sound so dire as he speaks. Every species on every planet has their own versions of birth control, it's just something that is slowly becoming apparent as a universal constant. "Okay, I can help you gather it if you want." 

"I need you to go get all of it." Dabi tells him. "We only plant the trees on the edge of a claimed territory, and I'm not allowed near any. If they smell I was by the tree, they may come to... hurt me." 

"Okay, where is the tree?"

Over the course of the next few minutes, Dabi gives him directions that Tomura maps out with the sensors that he's placed around the area, and he gets a detailed description of the tree, though it shouldn't be too hard to spot given that it is much smaller than the species that is dominant all throughout this area. The fruits themselves are the size of Dabi's fist, so around the size of an apple, but should be dark purple with a fuzzy white layer of hair along their skin to show they're ripe. 

He would rather not travel at night, but with time being so important, and now knowing the other Salkeh are diurnal, he would rather go to the edge of their territory under the cover of night. Just to lower his chances of getting disemboweled, if at all possible. So he gears up and heads out, Dabi staying behind and watching after him as he goes. 

///

The trek through the snowy forest is, thankfully, not as difficult as he feared it would be, though the cold and moving carefully through the snow does mean he's going much more slowly than he usually does. Still, it's worth it when he gets to the tree and finds that it is filled with the fruits exactly as described. He pulls a small folding bag out of one of his pockets and starts to pick the ones he can reach, going a bit higher than the ones he imagines will be easier for the Salkeh who live in this territory to get to. Dabi said to bring as many as he could, and he's guessing he'll need to eat them every day that they're gone, so he fills the bag with nearly three dozen and makes his way back to the campsite. 

Dabi is waiting for him, inspects the fruits and starts to take them up to his den. 

"Dabi, we should leave as soon as we can." He warns. 

"Tomorrow?" The creature asks, his shoulders hunching in on himself. "I... might be sick after eating some of these. I need a few hours to adjust." 

He doesn't really want to put the other man on his ship, on the first vehicle that he's ever been on, when he already might be at risk of throwing up, so he concedes to that. "Okay, I'm going to go back to my ship and sleep and in the morning I'll gather up my gear and then fly the ship back here. Do you need more food for the trip?" The Vaak that he hunted for the other is still only half eaten, though he supposes that's not really a surprise, the creature was the size of a moose. 

"No," Dabi mumbles, and Tomura isn't going to say that the creature has ever been jovial or even all that talkative, but he certainly seems more dower than he has been before. Part of him wants to ask if pausing his laying is painful or dangerous, but the fact of the matter is that him not doing it could be far, far worse. So he just says, 

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?" 

"Yeah." He slinks back up to his den and Tomura extinguishes his fire thoroughly before going back to his ship. It's a lot of hiking on very little sleep, but he can sleep for a few hours in the ship, and the autopilot will be able to cover him on the way to the nearest settled planet. 

///

Dabi doesn't dare curl up in his nest as he eats the raca fruit. Tomura brought him plenty and he purged his stomach as much as he could while the other was gone in the hopes of getting their toxins into his system as quickly and thoroughly as possible, but he still will have to eat so many of them to try and stall the heat that he can feel sitting on the edge of his awareness. He waits until he can't hear Tomura crunching through the snow anymore and then he slips out of the den and takes the first fruit from the bag. The plump insides are bitter and sour as he eats it, the taste immediately making his stomach lurch, but he quickly tears the hard pit from the insides and gulps down the soft pulp of the rest of the fruit in a handful. It has barely hit his stomach before he is reaching for the next, and the next, and the next. He eats them until his whole body feels hot, the fur across his chin is sticky and wet, his claws are soaked, and he's sobbing softly as his body tries to revolt. 

He only manages to hang on for another two fruits before he can't any longer, shifting away to empty his stomach of the fruit that tastes the same crawling up his throat as it did going down. Dabi means to move back to the bag and continue the miserable feast, but the stress and pain in his body are too much, he was too close, and a cloying, sickly warmth starts to bloom through his veins. He stumbles as he tries to stand, dizzy and even weaker than he usually is as his heat swells through his body, barely managing to drag himself back into the safety of his den before his legs give out beneath him. 

///

Tomura lands his ship in the clearing the following afternoon and spends the next twenty minutes boxing up bits of the Vaak to bring along for Dabi to eat. He knows the other doesn't drink as much water as he does, but he also goes about ensuring that he takes several gallons of the water from the river for him. He makes sure that his ship has fully filtered through the air that was inside, runs a decontamination sweep on the thing, and then leaves the bay doors open to take in as much of the pollen, air, and anything else that the planet might have that will hopefully keep Dabi alive. He usually knows how to adjust his ship's environment for his cargo, but he also usually is going after a known species. He doesn't know if Dabi's race is so delicate that a change in humidity or slight fluctuation in pressure could kill him, so he does his best to calibrate all of his systems to keep him safe for the journey. He even lowers the heat so that it will maintain the temperature of the planet, even if that means he's going to be miserable for a few more days. 

And by the time he's done all of that, it's well after noon, and there is still no sign of Dabi. He waits another hour and the alien still doesn't appear. At the end of that hour he goes up to the base of the mountain and calls, 

"Dabi?" He knows the creature's name, and even if he's out of range for the translator, he should be able to hear him anyway. But he doesn't get a response. Tomura hesitates. He hasn't climbed up to the creature's den. At first it was out of fear that he was hiding a vicious pack inside that would tear him to pieces, but after that, it was entirely because he was worried that doing so would encroach on the other's territory and make him feel unsafe. He needs Dabi to trust him and to be able to trust the other if they're going to be in a confined space together for a few days. 

But he also said that the fruits could make him sick. He debates with himself for another twenty minutes, but then he goes back into the ship, gets his climbing gear. The distance from the place where he's seen Dabi disappeared and the ground isn't all that much, but given the icy surface of the stones and mountainside, he would rather be safe than sorry. It takes him another twenty minutes to climb up to the ledge he always sees the other duck into, and even just a cursory look around has him locating the narrow entrance to a cave along with the half-empty bag of fruits, the pits of them, and a pile of what he can only guess is frozen sick. Concern lances through him and he goes over to the mouth of the cave. 

"Dabi?" He calls softly. 

The earpiece crackles to life and he hears a soft, distinctive whimper from deep within the cave followed by a sound he can only describe as a sob. Tomura's stomach sinks. 

"Dabi, are you alright? Can I do anything to help?" 

"T-Tomura," He whines again at the end of the word, and he takes a tentative step into the cave, having to crouch down a fair bit to fit inside. 

"I'm going to come inside, okay?" The other just lets out another weak sob and Tomura doesn't know if he could feel worse about this situation. He's never thought he was a particularly good person, but the realization that he made a newly discovered species cry before he even found out if they could laugh is a truly miserable thing. The other doesn't protest, just giving a pained moan, and he moves through the narrow channel, his nose slowly starting to pick up on a sweet citrusy smell that vaguely resembles lemongrass. It also gets warmer, much, much warmer as he goes, the sunlight dimming behind him, but not going so dark that he can't see anything, because there is a faint blue-green light emanating from deeper in the cave. 

He finds out what that is at the same time as he finds the larger opening. He is on his knees, crouching low, as he sees four eggs, four of the sought-after shining eggs spilling the aurora borealis along the walls and ceiling... in the shape of four figures. They're crudely carved, but they're clearly shaped in a similar away to Dabi. Four Salkeh watching over Dabi who is curled up in what he can only describe as a large, fluffy, makeshift bed built around the blankets he gave the other. 

Dabi mewls at him, a sound that is distinctly cat-like, his bleary eyes blinking up at him, shiny and wet with his tears, his thicker fur pasted to his forehead from his sweat. And it is very warm in the den, Tomura realizes distantly as the small alien writhes in the nest, spreading his legs and showing the hard, flushed cock and dripping cunt, the lips nestled around his base like his dick has replaced where he would expect a clit to be. He feels his face heat and starts to move away. 

"Tomura," Dabi reaches towards him, milky tears slipping over his cheeks. "'M sorry," his voice is watery and thin and his gut sinks. 

"It's alright, I'll wait for you outside--" 

Dabi keens at him, trying to sit up, and when his hands can't reach him, his tail wraps around his wrist. He reaches for the appendage gently and even just the lightest touch has Dabi moaning so loudly, putting all of his sharp teeth on display. "N-need to lay--" He whines, his claws clenching around the blanket and twisting to press his face deeper into it. 

"Okay, that's fine, Dabi." Embarrassment is a heat tingling down his spine as he sees the alien in such an intimate moment. His first instinct is to extract himself to give the other some privacy, but that wars with what he knows about childbirth in his own species alongside the watchful figures that Dabi has made for himself crudely out of his eggs. "Do you want me here? Should I keep watch at the entrance to make sure no one else comes in?" 

Dabi whimpers and his tail pulls on him. "You'll stay?" 

His mouth is dry as he croaks, "If you need me." He's not expecting Dabi to start to purr. He's also not expecting the other to force himself to sit up, claws tangling on his sleeves as he tries to pull him weakly into the nest. 

"T-thought you weren't--" Dabi loses the words in another loud purr as he tries to get him even closer. "Mate, my mate?" 

"Mate?" He doesn't want to push the other away, worried about hurting him, or accidentally getting his gear shredded on those sharp claws, but Dabi is purring and pressing in even closer, shoving his face into his neck and breathing deeply to scent him. 

"Please, please, please. Such a good mate." The other tells him desperately, trying to hook a leg around his hips and pull him closer. "Bringing me food, protecting me, helping make my nest--" Dabi lets out a strange mixture of sounds that the translator can't make sense of. "Be good," he promises, "Be a good mate for you." 

"Dabi," he says as gently as he can, "I can't be your mate." He hates having to say the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, but, "I don't know if we're compatible." And then he wants to slap himself because that should not be the thing that he said. That shouldn't have even crossed his mind. He should have told the other he didn't know those things were-- oh, oh! Is that why he had been so despondent? He thought he was trying to... court him? Tomura's chest tightens as a few more milky tears slip over Dabi's cheeks, his face stricken. 

He's an idiot. He's beyond stupid and this is a terrible idea, but he can't stomach that look on Dabi's face. He can't bear the thought of hurting this creature like this any more than he could leaving him to get captured and abused by some other poacher. He whimpers softly and Tomura... settles more fully into the nest. Dabi's body feels like an inferno, the heat reflected and retained by the blanket he gave him. 

"How can I make this better?" Should he be helping to shift him into a different position? He looks down at the other's stomach and it doesn't seem to have any visible swelling, though he feels like it should given the eggs around the cavern are nearly the size of a pineapple. 

Dabi, maybe his brain cooked through with the heat of his body or the arousal that is making his pussy gush and his cock drip, pulls on him again, his tail shifting from his wrist to up between Tomura's legs. He nearly yelps at the touch, and Dabi chirps and purrs so loudly when he feels his cock beneath the thick fabric. "Mate, mate, mate," he can't tell if the word is a term of endearment or a demand, but Tomura supposes for a species that doesn't constantly have their genitals on display, his body must seem... eager to him. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he is. That despite everything else, all of the messy things that are happening, Dabi is cute. He's pretty so flushed and needy, his body desperate to be fucked full, and the purrs and moans, the pleading whimpers and whines, how needily he's pulling on him to get him close-- Tomura hasn't had a partner in ages now, and one so eager puts an ill-gotten heat under his skin. 

"Are you sure?" His voice is rough and desperate himself, almost wanting the alien to come to his senses and turn him away. 

"Please, Tomura, hurts," he whimpers, pulling again. 

"Tell me how to make you stop hurting, beautiful." He murmurs, reaching for his gloves. He's burning up, sweat already prickling at his skin beneath his gear, and as he sheds those, Dabi starts to pull more insistently at his jacket. That joins his gloves, his boots, his pants and the thermals beneath all of it, he strips away layer after layer of clothes, and Dabi watches with some fascination as he does. The heat in the cavern is enough for him to barely feel the chill of the outside air that's coming from the entrance. When he's naked too, his cock starts to harden as Dabi spreads his legs wider, letting go of him to keep his sharp claws away from his skin. The fur around his cock and cunt is matted down with how get he is, and Tomura gives into the urge he's had since he saw his dart bounce harmlessly off of his fur, and lets his fingers trace along the fur over the outside of his thigh. 

Dabi purrs again, and the fur, for as tough as it must be, is extremely soft, but dense. It's cloud-like in texture, but there seems to be so much of it, despite how short most of it appears. He tries to gently press his fingers into it, but no matter how warm it is, he doesn't feel the texture of skin beneath, too thick for his touch to sink in. His tail wraps around Tomura's wrist again, grip tight around him, and he brings his hand from the outside of his thigh, to over top of it and then, "Please," he pleads as his cock twitches, the skin there visible and flushed with the heat of his blood. Tomura's breathless as he very gently rubs his fingers along him. Dabi still moans so loudly, back bowing so sharply that he worries he might have hurt him. But he didn't, he's just breathlessly needy as he tries to get more. 

The slick along his cock isn't dissimilar to his own pre, to the vaginal fluid that leaks out of an eager cunt, and when Dabi doesn't growl, snarl, or try to twist away, he lets himself wrap his hand around his length. His cock is the right size for his body, but it's still so small compared to him. Everything about Dabi is small, and he is easily able to have his entire length smothered in his palm, feeling little regular bumps and ridges along his underside that he hadn't been able to see well, but that feel almost as solid as bone beneath his burning velvet skin. It could be bone, he considers distantly. Some species have bones there. It's hard to focus on any coherent thought when Dabi's pretty blue eyes are squeezed shut and he's writhing, his little hips fucking up into his fist and his pretty lips open on  every gasp and moan that he's letting out. 

"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura," the alien keens and he has to stroke him, has to twist his wrist and pump him, slowly increasing the pressure until he finds the things that make him feel good. He thinks he knows when a fresh pulse of slick streams out of his cunt, soaking the blanket beneath them and filling the air with more of that lemongrass scent. "Inside, please, please, need you, please--" 

It's perhaps the only time any human man has ever said, "I don't know if I'll fit, baby," and actually meant it, actually been uncertain. He doesn't know if Dabi can take his cock, certainly not without stretching him for it. But he does take his other hand and drag his fingers through the thick puddle of his slick. He makes sure his fingers are coated thoroughly before he brings them to the puffy lips of his cunt and starts to rub at that soft skin gently, watching with fascination as his anatomy opens for him. The lips spread wider, his cock gets a little longer as it pushes even further out of his body, and he can see the little hole between his legs more clearly. Tomura keeps his touch gentle as he circles him with a finger, and more slick rushes to meet him as Dabi moans and he hears his claws pierce through the blanket. Tomura circles and rubs, but the muscles are soft, giving, and just as eager as the rest of Dabi's body. 

His pussy squeezes around his digit deliciously as he pushes it inside. It's probably a miracle his slick isn't burning off his skin and that his vagina doesn't have teeth or spikes or something inside. It's just hot, wet, and tight, sucking at his finger as he presses it in all the way to the base as Dabi sobs his pleasure. He tries to go slowly, feeling half-crazed as he feels Dabi's body trying to suck at him to get more. He strokes along the soft muscles and feels them give and press back as they undulate against him and he is achingly hard himself as he imagines how tight they'll squeeze him if he can actually give Dabi his cock safely. 

Tomura can't help it, he doesn't know what the other man would want, he's not even certain how the Salkeh normally mate, but he is only human. He leans over the creature's much smaller body and he catches his panting mouth in a kiss. A mouth that is full of sharp teeth that are strong enough to rend bone, that he should be terrified of despite how small and sweet the other feels beneath his lips, but Dabi knows this. His people have a concept of kissing, because his mouth is messy and eager against him, kissing back as his arms wrap around his neck to keep him there and his legs try to wrap around his hips to bring those closer as well. He manages to hook his thighs around his hips, but he can't pull him all the way in, and Dabi lets out a frustrated chitter as he uses his tail to wrap around one of Tomura's thighs and try to pull him even closer. He can't help the breathless laugh he lets out against the other's mouth, and he starts to press in a second finger to try and quell some of his need, stroking his cock in time with the movements along his walls. 

That doesn't calm the creature at all, and he uses his sharp teeth to nip at Tomura's chin, the points dangerous, but not breaking his skin as he does. "Mate me, correctly." He demands, digging his dew claws into Tomura's back just hard enough to put a tantalizing sting of pain under his skin. 

"I'm opening you up, Dabi." He murmurs, drawing his fingers back and pumping them in more deliberately. Dabi keens, his back arching as his cunt gushes around him. "You're so small, little one," his own voice getting rougher as he feels the deceptively delicate body against him. "I don't want to break you." 

"Break me if it means I'll be full," he demands, pounding a fist weakly against the back of his neck. 

"Such a demanding little size queen." He can't keep the warmth out of his voice. 

Dabi curses. The translator knows it's a curse, but it doesn't know how to translate the saying, not having enough of a sample of things on Dabi's world to pull from as he does so. "You are a bad mate!" He snarls, but he's not pulling away, he's just whining and it should not be as endearing as it is, making Tomura's insides warmer as he presses a kiss to Dabi's cheek, 

"Let me give you one more and then you can try my cock, alright?" 

It seems to be enough for the other man because he angles his hips up into his touches again and Tomura presses in a third finger. It already feels like a tight squeeze, but even then the Salkeh doesn't seem satisfied, his cock dripping and such an angry red at his tip, his hips constantly rutting up to fuck himself harder on his digits. He presses more kisses to his cheek, down along his slender neck, chancing licking at his fur which is such a strange textural experience against his tongue, but the other's fur tastes the way it smells, with a strangely herbal tang coming through as well. He doesn't know if he should stop, if he's accidentally going to poison himself by licking at the other's flesh, but Dabi starts to purr even louder as he gets impossibly wetter and Tomura quickly dismisses any hang-ups about the texture. He'll hack up a hairball if it means that he can keep making Dabi feel good. 

He takes the third finger easily enough, and Tomura hopes that means that whatever this state is as he prepares to lay his egg means that his insides are as elastic as they must be for that task. He doesn't want to tear the other open around his cock that he guesses must be much larger than any that Dabi has had before just based on the size of his species. He withdraws his fingers and Dabi starts to purr even more loudly, the sound rumbling out of his chest like a warp engine switching gears, and sending vibrations across both of their skin. Tomura smears the fluid all over his hand along his cock, the touch there making his own need more than insistent as just the cursory strokes make him desperate for the release he was trying to ignore his body craving. 

When he lines up, Dabi pulls on him again. His head looks too big for him and as he does start to slowly press inside, the stretch of Dabi's cunt is deliciously obscene as it spreads so wide for him. The pressure and heat is blinding as he pops his head inside, Dabi's body convulsing around the intrusion and then tightening so much Tomura nearly sees stars as Dabi's cock twitches in his hand, his cunt gushing, his seed spilling thickly all over his hand and stomach as the other comes from that first stretch of him. A heady rush goes through his body as those muscles start to loosen again as Dabi writhes and moans against the nest, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight as pleasure seems to wrack his body. He pushes in a little harder, a little deeper, and the other keens, but his body opens for him. He sinks all the way inside and Tomura thinks he's going to lose his mind. He's so tight, so hot, so wet. Dabi's body clings to him, texture along his walls that isn't like any human or alien he's ever fucked before. 

And he's breathless when he sinks all the way inside and he can see the press of himself as a faint shadow along Dabi's stomach. He tries to roll his hips just a bit, and he can see the muscles in his abdomen flutter, can feel them, and he can see how the movement shifts inside. Fucking hell. He's not certain he's ever felt his arousal burn this hot beneath his skin and it's only made all the stronger when Dabi opens his eyes just a sliver so he can see that shining blue and his breath trembles as he demands, 

"More." 

He can't really stop himself from giving the other everything that he can. Tomura fucks into Dabi's body, starting slowly, but as the alien moans and squeezes around him, his cock still hard even after his orgasm, and makes it so abundantly clear that he wants every inch of him that his body can take, he can't hold back. Soon their movements are rough, shifting the blankets beneath them, his mouth dragging over wherever he can reach as he looks for places to make both of their pleasure burn hotter. Dabi doesn't have nipples or a belly button under his fur, but he does have a place on the side of his neck just under his jaw, where a sweeter scent is mingling with that of his slick, and his eyes roll back when he sinks his teeth in there at the same time as he thrusts as deeply as he can go into the other's body. He makes such a wonderful symphony of sounds as Tomura tries to write pleasure into both of their bodies, switching between moans, chitters, and purrs constantly. 

His breaths are growing heavier, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable as they move, and his pleasure starts to go so hot, tightening the muscles in his thighs and through his pelvis. His balls are drawing closer to his base as his orgasm pushes on his nerves. He doesn't know how Dabi knows that he's getting close, but he starts chirping, making short bright sounds as he tries to pull him closer, his tail wrapping tight around one of his thighs to try and drag him in deeper. He's not expecting his cock to hit something deep inside of the alien's body, something that twitches and flutters against his head before it latches on like there's a tiny mouth sucking at his tip deep inside of Dabi. The surprise, the sensation of that is what sends him over the edge. He lets out a rough groan as he is held deep in the other's body, cumming hard and shaking as his orgasm lasts much longer than it ever does normally. And he just keeps cumming. He's certain that it should be painful, that his body shouldn't be able to give the other so much, but there is a little bulge forming on his stomach where his tip sits, where he's filling the other's body. Tomura can't help the thin whine he lets out as Dabi purrs and purrs as that place inside of him pulls out every drop of cum that he thinks he's ever been able to produce in his life in, god, it must take at least a minute or two, and when he's finally finished, those internal muscles finally let go of him and Dabi slumps bonelessly to the nest, his cock softening and his body letting Tomura pull his out. There's an aching oversensitivity there and he ends up shifting so that he doesn't crush the other beneath him, laying back on the blanket and just trying to catch his fucking breath. 

And then Dabi shifts, half crawling on top of him, his face pressing tightly up into his neck, his tail tangled around one of his legs, and his arms back around him, clinging to his body, and he starts to purr and purr. And Tomura decides he doesn't give a single fuck, he's too busy petting at the soft fur all along the alien's body. 

///

Tomura, for as much as he seemed confused about the mating process at the start, is a good mate for him as his heat swells through his body. His cock is so much bigger than any Dabi has ever seen before, but he supposes that shouldn't be a surprise when he is a much bigger creature in general, and he feels so good inside of his body. Dabi doesn't know how he ever could have pretended to be satisfied with his own tail before when he fills every space of him and gives him so much seed that it leaves his breeding pouch distended with the fluid as his egg forms. And Tomura's body is different underneath his hides. His skin is warmer and more of one even color save for when he's flushed, and he isn't covered in fur elsewhere, which he supposes is why he needs all of the hides that he wears to stay warm. And he's... good. He's sweet. He brings him water, both warmed by a fire outside to help clean up the stickiness from his fur and cold from the river to drink. He brings him food when he's hungry, and he gives him his cock again and again whenever he craves that impossible, delicious fullness.

And being so full, getting so much from the other in such a short period of time means that it is barely three days before he feels that hardness forming low in his abdomen. It doesn't hurt, it's just a different kind of pressure and he is purring and purring as he feels the egg becoming more and more solid. He's never been able to form his egg so quickly and he immediately knows that this will be the shortest heat he's ever had. he's not certain if that's because Tomura was able to fill him so thoroughly, or if it's because he made sure he was so well-fed throughout his entire preparation period, but he doesn't care either way. Even if the egg won't be fertile, and none of his eggs ever are, it still puts something deep and satisfying in his body as he realizes that he will be able to lay so easily for once in his life. 

When his body finally starts to feel as though the pressure is getting too great he starts to nose at Tomura's neck, chittering and chirping to try and get him to wake from his sleep. The human pulls him closer, into his side and presses his face between his ears, nuzzling sweetly into his hair and making Dabi's whole body even warmer and softer. He's a good mate. He's warm and soft, and more affectionate than his father ever was with his mother during her heats. He hopes Shoto finds a mate this sweet someday. 

"What is it, little one? Do you need it again?" He murmurs, his other hand moving down Dabi's body, he touches his lower stomach, feeling the harder press of the egg beneath his skin and Dabi moans softly. His cock is starting to harden again, the pressure inside of him putting good pressure everywhere, just like the other's cock. 

He chitters, rolling onto his back and pulling at the human, being careful of his claws. For as strong as Tomura was to be able to hunt a Vaak so easily, without his hides on, his skin is soft and easy to break. He doesn't want to hurt the other. So he is careful as he gently pulls at him and gets him between his legs. He needs the other to fill him again, to make sure that his walls are already soft and gushing to make room for the press of the egg as it comes. 

Tomura doesn't hesitate to help him get out the egg. He presses inside as he kisses along his neck, licking at his mating gland. He's nibbled on it a few times throughout his heat and each time he does, Dabi only grows more and more desperate for him to bite at his properly. But Tomura doesn't have the same kind of bump on his neck and he worries that he won't be able to give him that. Maybe humans do something else to show that they have taken a mate. He doesn't know. He doesn't have the focus in him to bother to ask. All he cares about is how good it feels when Tomura rubs their cocks together, when he presses his length between his folds and moves against him to stimulate his nerves until his lips are puffy and his cunt is wet and dripping, making sure he coats himself in Dabi's fluids like he wants to soak his scent into his skin before he's even gotten inside. But then he does start to push in and he goes absolutely breathless. Stars dance behind his eyes as his body is made to stretch, and stretch, and stretch open as the other creature makes his insides part around his length. 

He can't be blamed for how good that feels, can't be shamed for how quickly just that entrance and the first few gentle rolling thrusts make him tremble through the heights of his pleasure as they come crashing through him. He certainly does not think he can be blamed for that feeling so perfect that Dabi feels his egg loosen itself from the walls of his breeding sack, and before his mate has even cum to slick his walls further, it is starting to shift slightly lower. Dabi keens, not having words for the feeling of that pressing against the inner muscles that are usually so tight to hold in his mate's seed inside, being stimulated at the same time as they press on his outsides as well on each deep, languid thrust from the human. Dabi can hardly breathe. Normally laying, even when he was allowed to do so, was painful. It was so much pressure and such sharp discomfort as the egg pressed out of his body, but now he is dizzy from how good it feels, the movement on each side of that ring coaxing it open more and more. He feels delirious as he realizes that he's opening up for it without the agonizing cramping that usually comes with this part of the process. 

Tomura mates him slow and deep, one hand, his hands are soft, his claws thin and trimmed back to the beds of his fingertips so that he can't rend flesh, moves to Dabi's cock. He's still hard from how his body is forcing more and more blood there to make laying easier, and that further spike of pleasure opens him enough for the muscles inside to latch onto Tomura's cock again. He's never been able to mount another, but it must feel as good for the human as that suction does for him, because each time his body is ready to receive his release and attaches to him, it hardly takes long for him to shudder through his own orgasm, the first pulse of his fluids sending Dabi into another of his own. 

And as soon as his insides tighten, his egg starts to move. he unlatches from Tomura's cock, and he lets out a soft sound of surprise before he pulls out, seeing the bulge in his stomach beginning to shift. 

"Oh," he breathes, bringing a hand to Dabi's stomach and pressing lightly. Dabi moans as his pelvis tingles with fresh pleasure as the egg moves. It feels heavier than it normally does, though he supposed that's because he hasn't been starving for two weeks before pressing out an egg with a shell barely thick enough to hold. He can feel the ridges and patterns of his shell moving along his walls this time, the sign of a well-formed egg that makes his whole body hum with pride. "Already?" Tomura asks, sounding awed as the bump disappears from the surface of his stomach, as the egg presses into his vaginal canal, and his hand moves lower too. He spreads Dabi's lips wider without even needing to be told, the mixture of his cum and Dabi's slick easing the way so that he can press out the egg. It's not an hours-long struggle that leaves him completely drained this time. It's an easy, gentle slide, his insides already so stretched and used to the delicious feeling of Tomura's cock pushing in so deep. Dabi purrs and purrs as the egg slips free of his body and settles gently into the soft nest beneath him. 

Tomura's hands leave his body and he reaches for the egg, and a flicker of fear goes through him. He said he wasn't a thief, that he didn't want his egg, but it could have been a lie. He could take it now, and Dabi isn't sure that he would have the strength to stand and chase after him to get it back. Even if it is empty, he doesn't want to give it up. Panic surges through his chest--

And Tomura lifts it and offers it to him. The egg has the shiny iridescent color that a strong shell should, the bones he'd eaten throughout the past few weeks imparting it with what it needed to form so well. And the swirls, they're more distinct, better formed than any other that he's ever seen, creating deep ridges and grooves that make it look like something truly unique and lovely. He's never seen another egg like this one, and he thinks that must be because no one else of his kind has ever had a mate like Tomura. He can't help it when he starts to purr and purr as he gently takes the egg from his hands, intending to lick it clean, but Tomura takes some of the cloth he first gave him, unsoiled from their mating, and begins to help him clean it off. He doesn't steal it, he doesn't take it to be crushed the way his father used to take his other eggs. He watches over Dabi, his expression warm, as he holds it. 

There isn't anything inside. He hadn't let himself even pretend that it would be different because he had Tomura. It's his body that is incapable of creating a viable seed, be it in his womb or otherwise, and he can't feel the pulse of warmth that would be inside if it were alive. He can't hear the shifting inside that would indicate that there was something inside. But it's easier not to care about that now. If there is no baby then he can hollow this egg like he has his others, he can keep it close forever, a little part of him and Tomura even if the human tells him he still never intended to take him as a proper mate. 

///

Tomura isn't expecting to get to see Dabi lay his egg, and he's a little stunned and dreading the eventual conversation about the egg itself. About... the child that they may have now after he made himself at home in Dabi's bed. He doesn't know what to think, what to do. He certainly wouldn't be the first human to go off-planet, meet a new species, and immediately copulate, potentially spawning hybrid children, but he didn't think he would actually be the type to do so. He also didn't think he would be the hind to see Dabi holding the egg, the shining, swirling shell nearly eight inches tall and six wide, and wonder how that could have not only gotten out of the little creature, but also to keep finding himself feeling a warmth in his chest as he sees Dabi curling around it, pressing his cheek to it to check its temperature, his ear to it to listen for whatever he expects to hear inside. He doesn't know how he's supposed to ask what this means going forward, but he has to know as the next day he finds Dabi without his genitals visible again, blinking and looking at his surroundings much more carefully, his blue eyes brighter and more aware than they have been for the past few days. 

Tomura has to ask-- and Dabi stands, egg in his arms, and goes outside. 

He immediately scrambles to put all of his clothes back on, having been in only his thermals from how hot the den was, but he knows that he can't let the other just wander around, not when it's been two days and he has no idea if there are other poachers that have already arrived in the area. The other man has been practically non-verbal for days, so he gets into his clothes as quickly as possible and stumbles out into the snow, 

"Dabi, wait--!" 

The other creature is already down by the river and only glances up at him before he crouches into the snow by the bank, waiting. Tomura does his best to get down onto the ground, though he doubts he is anywhere near as graceful or quick as the other man. Still, Dabi waits for him to get down and move up to the edge of the river with him. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Emptying the egg. It'll rot if I leave the stuff inside." His voice is a little scratchy from how much he's been purring and moaning, and he doesn't sound particularly happy about the prospect either. 

"...Rot?" 

Dabi doesn't look at him as he nods, turning the egg onto its tip so that he can use one of his sharp claws to scrape away gently at the surface until he scrapes through enough of the shell to pierce his claw inside. He tips it onto is side and lets the liquid drain out, a milky mixture that looks startlingly similar to their fluids as they gushed out of Dabi with the egg as it was laid, but no clear part, no yolk as he was taught to expect from an egg laid to carry a living creature of any kind. 

"I can't lay healthy eggs," his ears droop low and he won't look up at Tomura as he says that. "I'm sorry." He drains the rest of the fluid and rinses it out in the water until it passes his test, and even after just a minute or two open and not in the water, the inner shell begins to oxidize and it starts to glow a gentle blue. 

"You don't have to apologize, Dabi. I'm not sure I would have been ready to be any kind of parent to a child." He doesn't bother to say it's a relief the egg was infertile. "I don't know if I'm... a suitable mate either." He says more carefully. 

Dabi's shoulders hunch in on themselves. "Okay." He hugs his egg close to his chest, "We need to leave, don't we? I'm sorry for the delay. I should have had you get the fruit as soon as you told me it would be important for us to leave soon." 

Tomura wants to protest, wants to... he doesn't know, give the other some time? A minute alone, maybe, but Dabi is pushing up from the snow and starting towards his ship, still holding the egg carefully, but straightening his spine. Maybe the other doesn't want that though. He doesn't know, he just knows that they do need to make up for lost time. 

He gets the other situated into the ship, having someone in the seat beside his own for the first time, and he makes certain that everything is ready. Dabi still holds onto the hollowed egg, as his ears pitch forward with his interest as he starts up the engines. He keeps finding himself glancing over at Dabi as he starts the final checks, starts the take off procedures, the moment that the engines start and they begin to rise. He brings the ship up past the trees, ascending carefully, and Dabi's nose is all but pressed to the glass as he sees the forest from above. His pupils have blown wide, his tongue peeking out from between his lips like a cat excited to be given a new toy and Tomura feels helpless to the warmth in his chest. 

Space travel was something old and commonplace when he was born. He had been to Earth's moon for a field trip when he was only five. He knows he was impressed then, but since that point, he's spent most of his life in space ships or on other planets. He hasn't even been back to Earth in six years. But seeing the look of wonder on the other's face is... something else. 

"You're going to want to sit back," he instructs, not entirely sure why his throat feels tight. "We're going to go fast to get out of your atmosphere." 

Dabi sits back and wraps his tail around his egg for added security. 

He wonders what it says about him that he still can't help but feel a deep endearment for the creature when they enter hyperspace and the lurch of movement has Dabi throwing up on his floor.

///

The trip to Coth E1 is uneventful as far as the flight goes. The autopilot functions as it's supposed to, they don't get into any skirmishes or fly into an asteroid field, they just go from point A to point B. But the journey itself, having Dabi in the ship for a day and a half is different. About three hours after they left his planet, Dabi hadn't been so clingy and protective of his egg anymore, asking if there was somewhere he could put it where it wouldn't be broken, and Tomura had carefully shown him the smugglers hatch, using his coat to wrap it up in an extra layer of padding even before he put it in a secure box with a spare tarp. 

"My instincts are normalizing again." Is all Dabi had bothered to say when he'd asked if that would really be alright for the rest of the trip. 

He let it go then, and over the next hour he'd shown him around the rest of his small ship. But when that had been finished, Dabi had wanted to sit back at the front of the ship to look out the window. And Tomura had done his best to answer any and every question the Salkeh had about space and the things they passed as they flew. When Dabi had run out of questions, he had just looked out the window until his eyes grew too heavy and he let out a soft defeated coo before he had slumped low in the seat and fallen asleep. Tomura picked him up then, easily lifting the small creature, and carried him back to his cot. Dabi hadn't woken as he was moved, but he had immediately clutched onto his pillow and blanket, tucking his face in tight to the fabric and purring the same way he had when he had been tucked against his chest in their nest. 

He sat on the edge of the bed watching the other sleep for an agonizingly long time. 

///

Flying in the ship is fascinating. It's amazing to be able to travel through the night and see bursts of stars that are the suns of worlds so far away that even in a ship like Tomura's they wouldn't ever be able to reach them. Coming off of his cycle, out of the haze of desperation and longing he'd felt to be claimed by the other, his wonderment at being able to be in the sky is amazing. However, landing is horrible. 

He loses the little he managed to eat when he woke up again as the ship lurches as it comes down in the docking bay with many more ships, some much, much bigger that Tomura's, but the human anticipated his sickness this time and gave him a receptacle to be sick into, the mess being sealed away in seconds rather than spilling anywhere that will have to be cleaned. He also brings him a cup of water to drink to help clean out his mouth. 

"...Sorry." 

"It's fine, Dabi. Lots of species get motion sickness." He then turns his attention back to the panel of buttons in front of him. He hits a few and then a new thing opens across the window, partially blocking the view of the place they've landed in. "Shigaraki Tomura, docked in ship XR0U280. I'm calling to report I have an unregistered sapient species with me who would like to register with the Foundry." 

There's a slight pause and then more talking that Dabi can't understand despite the collar. 

"I'm a wildlife photographer," Tomura tells the other voice. "I came across him while visiting a nearby planet, I don't have access to that kind of equipment." 

There's another burst of speech from the other side, and it sounds calm. Tomura doesn't seem upset either. 

"Thank you, I'll have him put on a helmet before opening the doors." The little square goes away and Tomura turns to him. "Okay, they're going to send someone to check you over, alright? They're going to make sure you're healthy and that none of the things on this planet will make you sick." 

"Okay." 

Tomura brings him a dome to wear around his head and he hooks up a thing to it so that he can breathe, and in just a few minutes, he is opening the door to what looks like another human, and what looks like a reptile that walks on two legs. Tomura blinks when he sees the lizard-person. 

"Spinner? I didn't know you were out here." 

The lizard says something in turn, but Tomura is still calm and the other human, who is shorter than Tomura and that has lumps on their chest that Tomura doesn't produce something from inside of one of the pockets of the hide that they are wearing. They pass it off to Tomura and he turns back to him. 

"This is a universal translator, if you put it on, it will let you understand everyone who talks to you, not just me. It will also start to log your language so that anyone else who meets a Salkeh while wearing this, will be able to understand their speech and talk back to them." 

"Okay." 

"It's going to sting like the collar did." He warns and Dabi is not thrilled about that, but he allows the collar to be swapped for the new one. The sharp jolt that goes through him is easier to stomach this time because he was prepared for it, but Dabi can't say he enjoys it as it happens. 

"Hello," the other human says, "My name is Lilea Sylas, I work for the Foundry and am going to help you to register your species. This is my colleague Dr. Shuichi Iguchi. He's going to give you a check-up." 

"Okay." 

"If you have any questions or need anything explained, all you have to do is ask, we'll do our best to make sure that everything is as comfortable as possible." 

He turns back to Tomura, guilt twisting his stomach, "You'll stay, right?" He doesn't know if he can ask for that. They're not mates, after all. 

"Of course I will." He reassures without blinking. 

And he doesn't move an inch as the other two begin to ask him questions and check him over. 

///

It takes four days for them to do the full gamut of tests to make certain that Dabi isn't carrying any pathogens that he might give to others, and to determine that he isn't going to die to any of the natural ones here. He shouldn't go into weather exceeding twenty-one degrees Celsius for more than one hour without lots of fluids and even then he will have a risk of overheating if he stays in direct sunlight, he should limit his intake of grains to a maximum of five percent of his daily food, and he is deathly allergic to guava of all things. They also determine the dark spots and infertility are due to an autoimmune disease, not one that's transmittable, but that is hereditary, and likely something the rest of his former pack were also carriers of. 

He's not sure if finding out that information makes Dabi feel better or worse, but Tomura feels a hell of a lot better when the Foundry finds the file Proximacard made available for settlers going to Ipra 309T on the Salkeh and immediately send a cease and desist along with an order for immediate closure of the planet. The Foundry, or likely one of the exploration companies that work more closely with them like Exovin, is dispatched six hours after they arrived on day one to put a stop to it and make sure they all left. He's certain that when they find out, and he's sure they will, about Dabi's people being hunted for their eggs, they will put a blockade around the planet as well until they speak to the Salkeh. He doubts Dabi's people will trade away their young, but it will be up to them if they want any shell pieces after they've hatched to be illegal to be sold as well, if the rest of his people even want anything to do with the outside world. 

But at the end of the four days, Dabi is free to wander the planet, he is given a list of all the ones that he will also be able to travel to without having any adverse side-effects, or he can go home. The Foundry will offer transportation if Tomura has his own business to get back to. 

"Okay." Aside from answering questions, Dabi has been quiet for the past few days and it sinks his stomach to see him so despondent. Sylas leaves the ship, and Tomura promises to go out for drinks and to catch up with Spinner when he can, but he gets them out of the ship so it's just he and Dabi alone. When the others are gone Dabi turns to him, "Can I have my egg?" 

"Of course," he makes sure the bay windows are shuttered and then he goes down into the smuggler's hatch and retrieves the bundle. The full shell inside must have oxidized over the past few days of the trip, and he can see the lights dancing across the patterns that swirl over the shell. It feels much less fragile than a chicken egg, but he's still extremely careful with it as he brings it back up to Dabi. 

He takes it and holds it to his chest, "I can go back with the other ship." 

"You don't have to," he says immediately. It's stupid, he should really be distancing himself as much as possible from this situation before someone finds out what he normally does when he's going for wildlife 'shoots'. "I don't mind taking you home." 

Dabi's ears droop and he doesn't look up at him. "No. You've wasted enough time on me. You must have more important things to do."

Tomura isn't certain how he can tell Dabi that nothing he's ever done feels as important as this. Not when he can't really find words for it himself. "I really don't. If you want to go home, I'll be happy to take you." But he can't stop himself from adding, "but if you want to stay and explore, here or some of the other places you can visit, I'll go with you there too." 

That finally gets Dabi looking at him again. "...Why?" 

Why indeed. "Can't I just want to spend more time with you?" 

"No one else ever has." 

"I'll let you in on a universal secret," he tells the other. "Shitty families come from every planet. But they're not here now. You are the first of your kind to ever leave your planet, and you can go wherever you want and we can travel for as long as you want." He needs to stop his mouth from saying these things. He's not a child with some grand view of the galaxy who believes that every new world is an endless possibility. He's a criminal, traveling with him will be dangerous, Dabi will always be in danger until the fascination with the eggs dies. He has to be clear about that. "I would love to have you as a companion for as long as you'd like to stay." 

Dabi's bright blue eyes search his face for a long minute, and then he lets out a shaky breath. "I want to stay." 

Good. There's no other name for the lightness that fills his chest than relief as he realizes that he won't have to leave Dabi behind. "I need to tell you some other things about me. If you want to change your mind afterward, I'll still take you home if you want me to." 

///

Six Years Later

"Two of whatever you have with the domed ice, but absolutely no guava." The little bar that he's wandered into is off of the main thoroughfare, wide bay doors and a large u-shaped counter with several people sitting and sipping at drinks packed full of ice, waiting out the Vebbore heatwave that lasts about two hours as the planet's axis tilts them a little closer to the sun in this region. He sees a few Earth fruits on the counter and being mixed into drinks alcoholic and not, but no immediate signs of guava, still. Better safe than sorry. 

"Tomura Shigaraki." 

He tenses slightly and turns, hating that he has to look up at the middle-aged red-haired human that's speaking to him. He is even less thrilled to see a Constellation's Collective badge pinned to his chest. "Can I help you, officer?" 

"You have two outstanding--" 

"My outstanding warrants in this system were quashed two months ago." He says immediately, flicking open his wallet to pay for the two drinks that have been set in front of him. "Thank you," he acknowledges the bartender. He then lifts his ID for scanning, as is procedure in this system for any arrests. The officer grits his teeth as he does so, his device only taking a second to match his profile to the one in the system and confirm his statement. 

"You're under arrest." 

That... actually does surprise him. "You just saw my warrants--" 

"For the possession of illegal goods." 

"I can assure you I am of age to purchase a slushy, even an alcoholic one." He says flatly. 

The officer glares at him. "That," he says, gesturing to his neck, "Is Salkeh shell. Possession of which is illegal unless you can verify it was obtained ethically." 

Tomura nearly rolls his eyes. One of these kinds of cops. "It was obtained ethically--" he hears a distinctive chitter and braces himself. Sure enough, not three seconds later, a solid weight connects with his shoulders, Dabi's legs hooking quickly around his waist and his tail steadying them both as he reaches over his shoulder to take one of the cups. 

"You were supposed to wait in the ship, it's too warm out here for you." 

"You were taking too long." Dabi says in turn, taking a big bite out of the snow cone dome of ice over the cup. He purrs happily at the coolness and only then seems to take notice of the man still glaring at him. "Who's this?" 

"Pig." The cop's lip curls up into a sneer, and Dabi's tail flicks. 

"Oink. What's he want? I took care of your warrants." 

"He wants to know if my necklace was sourced ethically." 

Dabi snickers, shifting to press a kiss to the shell piece that he'd etched carefully and attached to his translator. The larger piece of the shell sits just under his jaw on the right side of his neck, a ring of Dabi's teeth casting little nebulas through where he thinned the sections for him, since he couldn't have survived taking a proper bite there. "Of course it was, you helped make it." He purrs, rubbing their necks together. His blunt human teeth couldn't have pierced his fur in turn, and instead they had found someone who could embroider with hair, and Tomura had given up a few locks so that he could have his teeth marks in his collar as well. "My mate is welcome to as much of our eggs as he wants." He turns his attention back to the cop, "If that's all?" 

The man clearly wants to argue, but they haven't broken any laws yet, and there are far too many people around who would likely take umbrage with him attempting to arrest Dabi at the very least. Afterall, when he's clinging to him like this, his dark talons disappear against Tomura's black clothes, making him look far smaller and more helpless than he would otherwise. The officer sneers at them one more time, pushing Tomura's wallet back into his hands before he turns and leaves the shop. He watches him go, making sure he actually leaves and isn't waiting outside to grab them as soon as they go, but Dabi is busy gobbling up the rest of the ice from the top of his drink and then quickly slurping down the contents, immediately reaching for Tomura's as well. 

He presses a kiss to the tip of his nose before he relinquishes it, knowing his mate is just not built for this kind of heat. "Did you decide what you want to do tonight?" 

"Yeah! I was talking to a Koquro woman at the bay and she said that there's a boat race after dark along the river, it's really dangerous because it's all in the dark except for the algae that glows as they stir it up." He nuzzles back against his cheek to whisper, "And I heard there's a lot of people trading things." 

"Hmm, we should probably make sure to refuel before we go then." Because Dabi has been having a very good time lately hunting down anyone who breaks the rules of going to his home planet and stealing their eggs. If he's planning on committing a few murders tonight, then they should be ready to leave as soon as possible. His mate starts to purr immediately at not being told no, as if Tomura can ever tell Dabi no over anything. But it does also earn him a kiss from his mate, so he's certainly not complaining. 

[gorgugplushie]

My gift exchange for @froschdoesstuff !! Decided to go with Ayda and a young Garthy since they mentioned how they liked em!!

Gift exchange hosted by @d20exchange : )

[ID: A Digital Drawing of a older Ayda Aguefort and a young Garthy O'Brien. Ayda is a half-Pheonix with dark skin, Multiple eyes with black sclera and red iris with four on her wings, small red and orange feathers that cover her face, neck and arms, winged ears, fire like hair in dreads, orange nails, and red and orange wings that sprout from her back. Ayda is wearing a purple wizards cloak with orange sparkles and stars over a white button down shirt, a long purple skirt with lighter purple stars, and golden rectangle rimmed glasses. Ayda holds a red book in one hand as she reads diligently, she holds Garthy in her right arm, the background is of a wooden bookshelf. Garthy is a Half-Orc Aasimar with green skin, black sclera eyes with golden iris, a brown afro, golden freckles, two short tusks, round floppy orc ears, a small nub tail, two small white wings, and a white halo over their head. Garthy wears white overalls over a blue long sleeved shirt in the first figure, and a teal vest with lighter teal leaf and vine patterns over a white short sleeved shirt and brown pants in the second figures. In the first drawing Garthy looks up curious at Ayda's book, in the second they are flat on their stomach drawing on a wooden floor, and in the third they are proudly showing their drawing to Ayda, who has a speech bubble that says "It's too cute!". The background is tan and rendered to look like paper. /END ID]

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Sneaking around

Summary : Draco is being tailed by Harry, but he doesn't know that. He goes to meet his secret Ravenclaw girlfriend y/n. 

Harry slid out of Slughorn's party and followed Malfoy. He knew his cloak would be of use as he threw it over him. Draco Malfoy during this whole semester looked sickly and pale but today he looked…Draco.

 He followed him through the secret passageway on the third floor that was rarely used; he wondered when Draco had found it. He was so deep in thought he hadn't almost noticed that Draco had stopped. 

Suddenly black hair flicked from a corner. Draco lounged and pulled out a laughing Ravenclaw girl. 

"Salazar Y/n," 

"Hi~" Draco's scowl dropped and a shy smile made its way there instead. 

"Hello," Draco rolled out. 

"Your hair is a mess Malfoy, are you actually using your shampoo?"

"Of course I am, i was bloody thrown from Slughorn's stupid party" 

"Sounds a bit hmmm jealous, was a certain Harry Potter there?" Harry froze once he heard his name. 

"Don't start, you saying his name once is enough,"

"Shall I start calling him the chosen one or the other he who must not be named." Harry was mesmerized by her, it was like she radiated happiness. 

Draco shook his head so hard that his hair became more messed up. 

"Jeez, Draco relax," 

"Potter's been trailing me lately," Y/n raised her eyebrows. 

"If I didn't know any better I'd ship you two," Harry wanted to retch in his hiding place. "Lorminuim"

"That's new," Draco remarked, flopping on a nearby couch. "Made it?" 

"Nah 7th years, it's a silencing charm which also acts as an alarm if anyone steps within 10 feet of our invisible bubble we'll know"  Harry froze again, if he moved. He'll be in deep trouble.

However everything except for one fact flew over Draco's head as he sat up. "7th Year boys?"

Y/N blinked at him before she threw back her head and laughed. "What if it was a boy?" Y/n teases coming closer. "Mmm, what if it was?" 

Draco rolled his eyes. Y/n sat on his lap and cupped his face in her hands. Smooshing his face makes him look like a fish. Harry was still in severe shock. 

“I’m yours, mon amor est pour toi et toi sulement,” Draco burst out laughing. “Stop laughing I tried.” 

Draco pressed soft kisses into her palm. “I know, bloody accent needs help but, I love you too” he then said something in perfect french. Harry had enough and he, under his cloak, moved backwards inch by inch turning with each step, he did so till he was out. 

“Harry?” He spun to find Hermione and Ron behind him. "Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost,"

"Malfoy,"

"Don't tell me you followed him, can you belive this Ron, wait, you knew didn't you," Hermione pointed at Ron's red ears.

"I- Harry what about Malfoy what did you catch him doing," 

"He and y/n are a thing," 

"What? They barely are in the same space at the same time," Hermione said crossing her arms. "I mean yeah, y/n is close to the slytherin boys."

"What-" 

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Somehow news had spread quickly. Mostly thanks to Ron and his, "MALFOY AND Y/N ARE YOU BLOODY SERIOUS MATE" Soon it even reached the love birds themselves. 

"Pansy told me that she heard it from Luna who heard it from Ginny who heard it from Ron."Y/n was sitting at the head of Draco's four-poster bed with his head in her lap 

"Do you think he caught us snogging somewhere," 

"I would hope not else you won't be getting any." Draco pouted. 

You’re cute when you pout

“Thank you,” Draco flushed slightly. She herself blushed, she said that outloud. 

"Nevermind, it was probably Potter maybe he tailed me on one of our dates," 

"Maybe," Draco started to play with her hair.  

"We can't keep hiding in your dorm, unlike you, a dinner person, I am a breakfast person." 

Draco sighed at that. They only had two classes today both after lunch. "Please let's just stay here, just for now," 

"Fine, you owe me," 

Draco just smiled and cuddled into y/n, "I really love you y/n, like a lot that i actually let on" Y/n froze.

"Y/n? Y/n you don't have to say it back, I just-"

"I love you too,"  Draco sat up and looked at her. 

“You don’t need to tell me you love me, I don-” she shut him up with a kiss. Suddenly the door barged open, 

“HA PANSY YOU WERE RIGHT COME CHECK THIS OUT,” Blaise in all his glory stood heaving with laughter. Soon they were joined by Pansy Theodore Matheo and Lorenzo. Draco with a wave of his wand had shoved them out and locked them out. 

“Why are we friends with them,”

“Say the word and they’re gone,” she laughed an kissed Draco back. 

“I’ll think about it, since we’ve been caught and I’m starving, let’s go,” Draco sighed and help her off the bed. “But you’ll still owe me a bunch of snacks later,”

Draco looked at her a small smile on his lips. “Deal,” she smiled and his heart stuttered. He was truly enamored with her.

[geebritt]

Birds of a Feather - Prologue

It was small amounts of food going missing that first alerted Vander that something was amiss. At first, he thought it was rats robbing him blind - after all, this was Zaun - rats were a given almost anywhere. But after three days of rat traps, hyper-vigilance, and a great deal of frustration; the morsels of food continued to disappear - much to the large man's chagrin. The Last Drop had a reputation of being a haven for Zaunites, a rare escape from the grit and grime of the Undercity. A reputation that Vander prided himself on. The last thing he needed was to deal with a rat infestation.

It wasn't until one chilly morning, four days after he first noticed the missing food, that the source of the thievery was discovered.

The bar was empty, which was not unusual for the start of the day; being that most of Undercity's population would be outside, attempting to bask in the small amounts of sunlight that filtered down from the Topside.

Vander was wiping dry the freshly washed ale glasses from the previous night, when he heard the telltale sound of the pub's front door open and quickly close. Entering the main room to greet his patron, he paused - a perplexed look crossing his face when the room seemingly remained empty.

A very slight movement at the end of the bar caught his attention. A tiny, pale hand tentatively reached up from below the front of the surface and began to pat along the stained wood until it landed on the half-eaten bread roll that had served as Vander's breakfast. As quickly as they located their target, the tiny fingers curled around the stale bread and yanked it down into the possession of the tiny thief.

Quietly, and cautiously, Vander stepped to the side of the bar to identify the bread burglar, only for his stomach to drop.

Looking up at him fearfully through wide, chocolate-brown eyes was a tiny, emaciated little girl. The black hair poking out from below her hood resembled a stringy rat's nest, barely managing to conceal the dark circles beneath her almost too-big, strangely familiar, sunken eyes. Vander's chest clenched as he realised that this girl couldn't be more than five years old, and seemed to be completely alone.

The girl stood frozen, save for the fearful trembling of her body, as her eyes darted from Vander's own, to the door, and back again, before finally landing on her escape point. Before he could even utter a word, she had already broken into a sprint towards it - her bread prize already stowed safely in her tiny satchel.

“Wait!” Vander called after her, before quickly dropping the rag from his hands and taking off in her direction. He was surprised; for such a frail, skeletal girl, she was fast, and nimble as a mouse.

Vander was thankful that he'd had the foresite to flip the pub's ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’, as he tore through it in pursuit of the little girl. For a moment, he lost sight of her, only to find her again when he heard an enraged shout. A street vendor was standing over an overturned basket of fruit, yelling obscenities at the retreating child. In her haste to escape, she had evidently tripped over the basket, giving Vander the precious moments needed to close the distance and tail her. The opportunity to approach the situation with stealth as opposed to charging head-on would only benefit the little girl - the last thing that Vander wanted was to further frighten the obviously already traumatised child.

The minutes ticked on as he quietly followed the child through the streets, getting further and further from the main district of the Undercity. He could see that she was still on guard - glancing around constantly - jittery and nervous, and pulling her tiny, threadbare cloak closer around herself.

The longer they walked through the labyrinth of Zaun, the more difficult it became to follow her and maintain his cover. With each block they passed, crowds thinned, and structures grew scarce. Vander began to wonder if he would have to abandon his stealth mission to approach the girl directly - until she stopped in front of an old, chipped wooden door. Her dark eyes darted around one final time - causing Vander to quickly duck behind an abandoned market stall - seemingly satisfied that she was alone, she opened the door and entered.

Vander surveyed the shack-like hovel that the girl had entered. Walking to the side wall, he noticed a small, cracked window, streaked with dirty, child-sized hand prints. 

His gut clenched at the unmistakable scent of death wafting from the cracks in the glass - a scent that he'd become all too well acquainted with on the streets of Zaun. 

A deep, heavy sigh deflated his chest as he turned away from the window, ready to make his way to the front door.

“Mama.” A small, strained voice stopped him in his tracks. “Mama, I'm back. Are you awake yet?”

Vander stepped back and peered through the filthy glass into the residence. From his vantage point, he could see a small bed, multiple blankets heaped over a slumbering figure.

“Look, Mama, I got some food.” The same small voice squeaked, and he saw the little girl run into the room, stumbling as she tripped over the cloak she'd hastily pulled off her body. Without the cloak, it was even more evident just how emaciated the child really was. Even through the grimey window, he could tell that she hadn't had a proper meal in a while.

The dark-haired girl held the bread in her hands, beaming as if it were a bar of gold, and clumsily climbed onto the bed where the figure lay covered in fabrics.

Vander watched as the girl ripped the edge off the bread roll and nibbled it - obviously trying to savour the moment of the morsel of insufficient sustenance hitting her belly - before holding out the rest of the bread to the still figure.

“This piece is for you. Please eat it. You must be very hungry.” It was jarring hearing the words in such a tiny, childish voice - especially when the voice began to wobble wetly. “Please wake up, Mama. I'm scared.” It was that sentence, sniffled out from the girl that finally prompted Vander to leave the window and quietly walk around to enter the house through the front door.

Upon opening the door and quietly stepping inside, Vander couldn't help but let out a deep retch. The smell of death and rot was much more potent inside of the house, causing his eyes to water. He pinched his nose and moved from the entryway, towards the small bedroom that he had seen through the window; the rough floorboards creaking under his heavy boots.

Stepping into the room, he had to suppress another gag as the smell of decaying flesh mixed with the odour of rotting food burnt his nostrils. The source of which he could see scattered on the bed next to the sleeping figure. Pieces of long since spoiled, mostly mouldy food sat on the filthy mattress. Some bits remained whole, while other had small bites or tears taken from them.

The girl was nowhere to be seen. But that thought was now pushed away to the back of Vander's mind as he slowly stepped closer to the bed. The vile smell, the moulded food, all of it seemed to disappear as his eyes came to rest on the lax face of the figure under the covers. His ears rung with static, and a large lump formed in his throat. 

Though her eyes were closed, and her pallid skin had already begun to take on a greenish discolouration - he would know her face anywhere.

“Oh, Elisabeth.” He choked out mournfully. He knew she had long since passed. His old friend. Gone. His, Silco's, Felicia's, and Connol's friend. Gone. The friend that they had all grown up with - the same friend that had up and disappeared from their lives without a trace just over five years prior. Gone.

Some part of Vander had held onto hope that he would see her again. That she had left on some wonderful adventure; and one day she'd bound back into The Last Drop as she had done so many times before - all wild blonde hair and dark-chocolate eyes - and pull him into one of her warm hugs, pinching his cheeks as her own widened showing off deep dimples. But he realised now, as a tear ran down his cheek, that had been nothing more than a stupid fantasy. A stupid wish.

The thought was short-lived though, as a weight fell on him from above, and tiny fists were suddenly driving themselves into anywhere that they could. In any other circumstance, Vander would have laughed. The fists barely felt more than a tap against his skin - but the screamed words of “Stay away from her!” were what caused the real harm to him.

“Hey, hey. It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you, or your Mama.” Vander spoke softly through the lump in his throat.

“You're lying!” She screeched. The barrage of tiny hits only subsided when she lost her grip on him and fell heavily to the floor. Quickly, she picked herself up and ran to the opposite side of the bed to hide behind the covered body of her mother.

“Mama! Wake up!” She wailed hysterically, pushing against the body, attempting to rouse her ‘sleeping’ mother. “Please wake up!” She sobbed, pounding her fists into the mountain of blankets.

Vander couldn't help but shush her. Though he didn't have children of his own, that didn't mean that he didn't have a paternal nature - and it wasn't part of that nature to see a child in distress and not help. He slowly moved to the foot of the bed and knelt down, leaving enough room for the little girl to still feel a degree of safety.

“I know your Mama. She's a friend of mine. Her name is Elisabeth, right?” He held out his hand and kept his voice quiet, as if calming a wild animal.

Her sobs quickly subsided, and she scrubbed her eyes with grimey little balled-up fists. Nodding, she looked at him warily.

“We grew up together, me and your mum.” He moved from his kneeling position to sit with his back against the wall. The heaviness of the situation quickly draining his energy. “She was a real firecracker when we were kids. A lot like you, actually.”

Vander huffed a laugh to himself as he looked down at his hands, struggling to absorb the grief. What would he tell the others? What would he do with this child? He couldn't leave her here, not in the deteriorating state that she was in. 

“Do you have a dad, kid?” The girl shook her head, looking at the floor. He heaved a sigh - there wasn't any way that he was leaving the house without her. Maybe he could take her to Felicia and Connol. They already had little Violet. Maybe they wouldn't be opposed to taking in the girl. The girl in question had slowly stopped trembling and dropped to her hands and knees to tentatively approach Vander's side.

“What's your name?” He asked her. She hesitated for a moment before telling him. Hearing the name brought a small smile to his face. It was the same name as Elle’s mother. “And how old are you?” He asked her softly.

“I'm four years old.” She squeaked proudly, holding up four grubby fingers.

The lump returned to his throat. She was even younger than he had first thought. This child - barely older than a toddler - had been alone out on the streets, trying to find food for her dead mother, who she thought was asleep. The poor girl wasn't even old enough to understand what death was, yet she was fronting up to a grown man to protect her mother.

“What's your name?” Her small voice broke the silence once again. 

“Vander.” He looked up at her and gave a comforting smile. Her jaw dropped, and she practically crawled into his lap, reaching up to cup his bearded chin in her tiny hands.

“Vander?” She marvelled, and he nodded. “You're Mama's best friend, Vander!” She exclaimed, practically jumping on his lap in excitement. “Mama told me about her best friend, Vander!” The girl struggled to contain her excitement - smacking her hands against his chest in a subconscious effort to regulate her outburst of emotion.

“You can help me wake up Mama! She'll wake up to see her best friend, Vander!” She cried out, grabbing his large hand in both of hers and stood, attempting to pull him over to her mother's still form.

“I'm sorry, but your Mama isn't going to wake up.” Vander had hesitated before saying the words to the little girl.

“What? Yes, she will.” The girl replied stubbornly, a streak of anger in her tone. He could tell that subconsciously, the child knew he was right. Vander softly tugged her back into his lap and wrapped his arms protectively around her tiny, cold form.

“No, she won't.” He countered softly. “Sweetheart. Your Mama… she was one of the strongest and bravest people that I've ever met - and I know that she would have done everything she possibly could to keep you safe.” He felt her face nuzzle into his chest, as if she could hide from his words. “But sometimes…” he had to swallow down the lump forming in his throat once more. “Sometimes strong hearts get tired.” He heard his voice crack. “And when that happens, they can't wake up anymore.” Tears began to make their journey down his cheeks, dripping into the girl’s hair.

“But she has to wake up. I need her.” The warbled words broke Vander’s heart into pieces. “I need her.” She repeated, her voice cracked, and he felt her tears begin to seep through his shirt.

“She's not gone, though, not really.” She sniffled as she pulled back to look into his eyes with her own big, wet orbs. “She'll always be with you, here.” He tapped her on the chest directly over her heart, and she looked down in wonder. “Every time you think of her. Every time you remember her. Even if you can't see her - she'll always be with you.”

The little girl put her hand over her heart as her eyes filled with fresh tears.

“It's okay to feel sad.” Vander whispered, putting his large hand over hers. “And it's okay to miss her.” He assured her. “Your Mama would understand that - but she'd also want you to remember how much she loves you, and for you to know that you're not alone. I'm here now - and I'll do everything that I can to make you feel safe and loved - just like she would.” The wind was nearly knocked out of him at the force in which the girl hugged him, and he hugged her back earnestly - wishing he could shield her from the pain that she was feeling - that they both were feeling.

After a time, Vander stood. The sobbing girl - small enough to carry in just one of his arms - had since gone quiet, the exhaustion of grief lulling her into slumber. He spared one last look towards the body of his lost friend before moving around the room to collect some of the little girl's items - just enough to keep her warm for the day. He would come back tomorrow to collect the rest and lay his friend's body to rest.

Vander bent to the ground to collect the girl’s small satchel and cloak when a small leather-bound book, half-hidden beneath the bed, caught his eye. He tentatively reached out and picked it up, flipping it open to the first page. A charcoal sketch of The Last Drop's sign was delicately sketched into the parchment - and he realised, sadly, that this was what had most likely brought the little girl to his pub in search of food in the first place. A chance meeting - but one that he knew had already set his life on a new path.

He rested his forehead against the girl’s as he tucked the book into his jacket. This wasn't the time to stop and ponder what-ifs - he needed to get his girl somewhere safe and warm.

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

Okay, so, Hi. I hope this isn't total trash, but this fic has not left my head since I watched Arcane. Tbh, I don't even know if this is something that anyone would read - or even something that I'll have the motivation to continue, lol.

If this continues, it's going to be a Viktor/Reader fic. I've never written a /Reader fic before- so ohhhh lordy, it would be interesting, lol. If continued, the next chapter will begin at episode 1 of the series - so 14 years after this chapter is set - and from thereon will be written in second person perspective.

I honestly reallllly struggle with concentration and motivation for writing, (this one prologue legit took me a week to write,) so I can't make any promises, but this fic concept is keeping my brain ACTIVE rn.

Sorry if my grammar is shit. I haven't been in school for like 15 years, and my brain is rotting away. 🥹

Also, I'm in my music feels atm, so there will probably be song lyrics snuck into the dialogue. Obvis the title is based on the Billie Eilish song - because my brain has been singing this song about Viktor for the past month. 😭

Please, if you like what you've read and would like it to continue, drop some love... or don't... I'm not your mum. 😘

Love y'all. 💛🫡

[axonthegoat]

So I was thinking more about the path of hero's au, and I love the idea that when Twilights Lycanthropy is revealed he feels really bad about it, like even though everyone took it quite well his anxiety still gets to him, And as a way to try and make him feel better Red convinced Vio, Legend, and Hyrule to turn into wolves with him when Twilights in his wolfie form and moping to try and help him feel better Red, Legend, and Hyrule all know Polymorph and Vio knows wild shape, so like a scenario might go something like this: "those towns folk really made him feel bad huh?" Legend questioned looking up from the patchwork on Hyrule's cloak to watching as Wild, attempted to console a mopping Twilight, though the wolf just whined and buried himself further under his bedroll "yeah.... I wish there was something we could do to make him feel better" Hyrule sighed, it wasn't too hard a thing for the group of mix matched hero's to accept Twilight's secret, but now that they know, either Twilight stopped hiding it or its just become more obvious about how hurtful comments about werewolves being monsters is, and the comments from the towns folk when restocking supplies were....particularly awful, though seeing as to how they treated their....less human looking companions, it shouldn't have surprised them, Hyrule's wings chimed as they turned to look, surprised to see Red dragging Vio along behind him towards them and Legend, "oh! Red Vio? you decided to split tonight?" Red nodded, eyes shiny and tail wrapped around his leg "yeah...Four tried to go help twilight but even his attempts at relating to comments we've all gotten as Tiefling's wasn't able to help him feel better..." Red sighed, letting go of Vio's hand and plopping down next to hyrule, looking a little more cheery "We split because the others wanted to try something themselves, but I happened to over hear you and I had an idea!" Red chirped, as Vio came and silently sat down next to Legend, creating a small circle amongst the magic users. Hyrule raised an eyebrow, leaning forward on their knees, "oooo? what do you have in mind! it's awful seeing Twilight so upset" Hyrule whispered, eager to have any way to try and make their brother feel better. Red grinned in return scooching forward a bit more and gesturing to Vio, who in turn pulled out a small bag "So you, Legend, and I know how to use polymorph" Red said and Vio opened the back to reveal a white powder, Crushed caterpillar cocoons, "and Vio knows how to use wild shape, so...what if we turned ourselves into wolves!" Red whispered conspiratorially, Hyrule started bouncing a bit, their wings making a happy chime as Legend looked between the two, then looked at Vio, who gave him a small smile nudging Legend in the arm, "you'll get to bite Wars." Almost instantly Legend grabbed the bag and stuffed his hand inside, "alright, I'm down" Rubbing the powder on hands, he brought his hand up to his shoulders, and after a short moment, and a poof of feathers and smoke in Legends place sat a medium sized wolf with pink streaks in its grey and white fur, Red grabbed the bag next, his fur patterns looking almost like flames and then Hyrule next who was a much lighter green than Twilight. As the three looked to Vio, they were already shaking their fur out, Red yipped a bit and bolted off to Twilight, tackling him to the ground at the other three joined him, Twilight looked...baffled to say the least as Hyrule plopped down on his other side, Vio and Legend were close but not quite pressed against Twilight, the other members of the chain laughing out at the sight. After a moment Twilight seemed to calm down and feel a bit better, snickering as Legend, indeed ended up biting Warrior when he tried to pet him, maybe he really will be ok in the end...

[doonarose]

New fic!!! The big one that I've been thinking about and writing for ages and I really, really, really want it to be good! Chapter one is here! The next nine chapters are written and will drop about once a week!

CW/TW: Explicit sexual content in later chapters. Minor human injuries, major animal injuries, car accident in this chapter.

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are from different worlds with little in common and no reason for their lives to ever intersect. But then one dark, cold, miserable night their meeting becomes unavoidable as they narrowly avoid their cars colliding. They're left with an injured wild animal and the inevitability of starting to fall for each other. But, of course, it isn't as simple as that...

A/N: Hoo boy. This story has been percolating for seven and a half months. It's my first try at a human AU and I first came up with it as some sort of coping mechanism after I hit a kangaroo in my brand new car and had to limp another four hours home without a headlight.

I never would have thought about trying to write it properly without the needling, annoying, and cheerleading of the GOAD writer's chat! Extra special shoutouts to u/harlotofupdog and u/Paperclip_ninja for being at the forefront of the push for 'deer fic' and then agreeing to beta without realising that would also mean listening to me bemoan every last little decision and detail for weeks on end! Thanks also to u/FuzzyGoblinoid for even more cheerleading and also making the lovely header art!

Nine chapters are already written and the whole story mapped out so I will be updating about once a week with those and hopefully stay ahead! There are some feelings to be had, but do not fear, the smut is closer than you think and, I promise, everything will work out in the end!

@goodomensafterdark

Excerpt It is a truly horrendous winter’s night, cloaked in pitch black darkness and pelting rain. Howling winds make the little white hatchback shudder and tilt as it rolls along, Aziraphale grasping the steering wheel tighter as he wills the tyres to maintain their grip on the road.

The night is all the more miserable for being a Monday, in all likelihood the start of a fairly rotten week, and a teeth-chattering eight degrees Celsius — both inside and outside the car because, of course, Aziraphale’s heating hasn’t worked since December. He should have left London earlier and been home already, snuggled under the blankets with a good book and a cup of tea. But Sharron, the bookshop owner, had called to say she was stuck on the other side of town and asked him to work back. It hadn’t occurred to him to say no.

Which is why he is now squinting through the windscreen as the wipers squeak back and forth and the rain starts to come down even harder. The first crack of lightning makes him jump in his seat and illuminates the dense woodland streaming past on either side. It also reveals that the twin gleaming tail lights ahead belong to an old-fashioned, sleek beast of a car.

Aziraphale eases off the accelerator to put a few more metres between him and the vehicle ahead and grumbles as the digital clock ticks past nine. They are both driving at well over the speed limit but Aziraphale knows these roads, knows his way home. He so desperately wants to be there already, instead of here, miserably holding his whole body tense against the onslaught of weather outside.

The road curves and the hatchback’s tyres slip for a moment, hydroplaning and skidding towards the wrong side of the road before Aziraphale regains control around the next turn. He really, really just wants to be home and he feels his bottom lip start to wobble involuntarily.

Around another curve, this one tighter, but Aziraphale knows it well. Only another dozen miles or so and —

The tail lights ahead are suddenly too close and too red — the hulking car’s brake lights flash and then it’s skidding, spinning sideways on the road ahead of him.

Aziraphale has no time to process, barely enough to react.

To continue reading head on over to AO3!

[awyeahitssam]

Based on the idea that Malfoy could not get the vanishing cabinet to work effectively, and decided to mention, instead, that Hogwarts was taking the Great Hall wards down for a six-fucking-week course on Apparation. This is what wouldn't happen. But it's where my mind went, first. Warning: Graphic Violence

A loud crack signified the first successful Apparition. 

Harry’s eyes, closed in preparation for his own attempt, snapped open and his head turned. It wasn't a student standing at the other end of the Great Hall, though. Harry jolted for his wand as other students began to turn to the cloaked figure, but before he could take aim there were four more sharp cracks. 

Dark-robed, masked Death Eater’s were apparating directly into the Great Hall, the only place the castle wards were down for Hogwarts students to learn how to do the same. 

Bellatrix LeStrange was the first to appear sans mask, having no need for discretion. She took in the scene with a cackle, batting away Harry’s immediate curse effortlessly as she cooed, “Aww, look at the wittle student's trying to learn!” 

In his periphery Harry saw Neville lift his own wand, and they cast simultaneously. This time, Bellatrix twisted out of the way. “Do the wittle babies wanna play?”

“Sectumsempra,” Harry hissed with malice, fully aware of the spell's effects, now. Bellatrix’s eyes widened a bit even as she turned out of the way, quick as a dancer. The Death Eater behind her fell to their knees as their body was pulled apart by deep, horrible gashes. 

More cracks sounded; Harry began to send out indiscriminate stunners, hoping to catch the intruders before they realised they were being cast at. They all came prepared for battle to have begun, shield charms springing around them immediately. 

“Bombarda!” Ron called grimly. 

“Expulso!” shouted Neville. 

“Protego Maxima,” murmured Hermione. “Accio Susan Bones. Protego. Stupefy—students to the teacher's entrance!”

The frozen bodies of some of their yearmates seemed to jolt, realisation settling. Many students turned tail and ran. 

Susan Bones, having narrowly been pulled out of the way of a powerful cutting curse that had gouged into stone walls by Hermione, was casting stunners, petrification hexes, and disarming charms. Harry was not nearly so restrained, once he realised the stunners were ineffective. Sectumsempra broke through shields like a battering drill and Death Eaters were falling, ripped apart by his fury. Curses flew from Harry's wand as fast as he could think of them: conjunctivitis, blasting, jelly-fingers, reductors, even slug-vomiting. He conjured six venomous snakes that shot off without instruction, knowing his will. Yet again and again, Harry came back to the Half-Blood Prince’s spell, the most devastatingly effective of them all. People were dying from its effectiveness, but Harry didn’t care, because they had dared step foot in Hogwarts—  

A horrible pressure was building in Harry’s head as half the hall emptied. A wand prodded Harry’s spine, and he stilled, shaking with rage and adrenaline. “Call—call off the snakes, Potter,” a somewhat familiar voice demanded shakily.

“I’d rather they bite your father, Nott,” said Harry coldly. “Drop your wand before I have to make you regret it.” 

The wand trembled, for a moment, against his spine. “C-Cruci—”

Harry drove his elbow back, hard, and slammed down one foot on Nott's. The taller boy stumbled back in pain, and it was no great difficulty to stun him. He hit the floor, hard, and Malfoy’s grey eyes were large and frightened as he stared at Harry, still as prey. 

At once, Harry realised what he had done “You,” he said, scar pulsing horribly. “You did this. You brought war to a school filled with literal children, you stupid, useless brat. You're scared of what Voldemort will do to you? Just wait, Malfoy. His punishment would be bliss compared to what you deserve for this.”

“Such a temper, Harry Potter,” came Lord Voldemort’s cold voice. He had made no sound as he apparated, not like his followers, but Harry’s viciously prickling scar had made his imminent arrival clear. “You have done well, Draco. You will be… rewarded.”

Malfoy’s eyes darted in fright from Harry to the Dark Lord, and Voldemort was barely in time to hiss “Stop,” to the snake that had snuck up on the boy. 

“You don't obey him,” Harry hissed, “you’re mine. Do what you’re made for, dear one.”

Draco turned just in time to see the snake strike out at his neck. It vanished before its fangs could load the boy with venom, and Harry turned his hateful scowl to Voldemort, who’s gaze already rested upon him, intent, heavy and fascinated. 

“Deal with it, Hermione,” he snapped. 

“Harry—” came Hermione’s warning voice, but Harry couldn’t listen, had to dodge out of the way of Voldemort’s spell. The Dark Lord tilted his head, stare thoughtful, and then turned his yew wand… away. 

Harry watched him with a wariness not misplaced: Romilda Vane, nearly out of the Great Hall via the Professor’s entrance, fell to the cruciatus curse with a cry of pain. 

“Drop your wands, children,” the Dark Lord said, red eyes still locked on Harry as his soft, cold voice echoed through all corners of the room, carried by wandless magic. 

Harry grit his teeth at the seeming opportunity, well aware of Voldemort's objective. And yet, truly, he could not have picked a worse target to try and bring Harry under his control than the girl who had nearly raped him. He cast a wordless sonorous on himself to refute the order: “Don't give an inch. There are First Years in these walls. Do to them what you would to Umbridge. They're twice her threat. Any student who raised a wand to help Voldemort’s sect will be treated as hostile. See how I handle my enemies, Goyle, and ask yourself if that cheap shot is worth your life.”

Even as he spoke, Harry turned from Voldemort, dismissive, and focused on thinning the herd. Thirteen Death Eater’s still stood, including Bellatrix, who was engaged with Neville and Ron. Harry used every spell that came to his mind, even those from the Half-Blood Prince’s book he had not tested before. One man was effectively eviscerated, much to Harry’s disgust. He only used that spell once.  

When he saw one of his snakes change course he pulled the magic from them, an effective banishment, cold eyes finding Voldemort again. He had not heard the man speak parseltongue, and indeed he was still holding the crucio, face twisted strangely as he watched Harry. 

“My, my,” said Voldemort, immediate once he had regained Harry’s attention, two more of his people fallen, “so vicious, little snake. Does Dumbledore know you have venom?”

“I don't give a fuck what he knows,” Harry said harshly. “This is a school.” This is my home. “Focus on the bloody Ministry, and leave children out of it.”

Voldemort had the gall to laugh, high and cold. “This is not merely a school, Harry Potter,” he said. “There is a reason you children stand your ground and fight. This is where Dumbledore trains his small, young army to go to war and die, as their parents did before them.” 

Wrath bubbles in Harry, heavy and explosive, and he must look as unhinged and inhuman as the man watching him as he cages it behind his teeth. He flicks a shield charm around Bones and Abbott before a reductor hits, and a disarming charm hits the perpetrators back. He breaks the dark-wooded wand into two pieces the moment he catches it. 

“You truly think Dumbledore has taught us anything? Even my ‘private lessons’ with the man are just memories of your life, as if I care that you got away with murder when you were still sixteen.” Hermione pulls Vane’s still writhing body from the room, and Voldemort’s cruciatus ends, but he does not seem to notice or care, eyes locked on Harry. “The only reason I fight is because I do not believe in the world you are trying to create. Because you say things like ‘magic is night' and still try to subjugate witches and wizards, as if the fresh magic in their veins is poisoned by the muggles they're born to. I defy you, Lord Voldemort, because you decided your best course was killing a baby over a half-heard prophecy, and still try to kill me to this day. I am not going to stand here and let you. I don't believe ‘magic is might’. I've already killed many of your people tonight… but that—that wasn’t over ideology. That is because I will kill as many as it takes to keep your grasping, greedy fucking hands out of my school.”