#his poor Pines Curls have gotten so thinned out after all these years

[theswedishpajas]

FINALLY breaking myself free from the chains that are rendered Fords… STANLEY, MY LOVE, I AM HERE TO AT LAST APPRECIATE YOUR FACE HOW IT DESERVES!!!!!

[gossipsnake]

TIMING:  June 3, 2023 LOCATION:  The Pines PARTIES: Anita @gossipsnake & Alan @alan-duarte SUMMARY: Anita makes her way home from a night out and comes across a sweet Vegetable Lamb, over which she becomes quite protective when Alan tries to make a meal out of it. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

As her nights often ended, Anita found herself walking home to her secluded mansion on the edge of The Pines and Seven Peaks late in the evening - or was it very early in the morning? - after being out at one of her favorite local bars until closing. Well, this wasn’t how her nights often ended, given that she was walking home alone and not with someone she had picked up at the bar. She didn’t mind the solitude every now and then, though. Especially at this time of year when the spring was thawing nature out of its prolonged winter freeze. 

Unsurprisingly given her chosen profession and academic pursuits, being surrounded by nature put Anita at ease. While the mountainous and often cold landscape of New England varied immensely from the deserts she was raised in, the area was slowly beginning to feel like home. Especially given the amount of supernatural people, places, and things that were always about. That’s why when she heard the smallest bleat of what sounded like a lamb, she decided to investigate with reasonable caution. 

As she rounded a grouping of trees, Anita saw something she had only read about before - a vegetable lamb. In her rather intoxicated state, however, she wasn’t sure if she fully believed her eyes. So she got closer, so entranced that she hardly even noticed the sound of footsteps nearby. 

Alan usually wandered further into the woods on those nights. It was safer for him. It was safer for everyone. The taste of copper was one he’d gotten used to over the years,and he had stopped blaming himself for the damage he caused. Most of the time, he supposed it must have been animals. Deers, moose, maybe a boar, a hare… And if people were going to go camp in the woods on a full moon… Well, some people were better at surviving than others and that was all there was to think about here. If only he had been able to think at all tonight. 

The damn full moon. A bloodthirst that simply couldn’t be quenched, and one that he struggled, every month to contain anyway. 

The frail bleating of a lamb had lured the wolf out of the woods, to the edge of the forest. Near the ground, the hunter advanced, huddled on his velvet paws, his gray coat blending in with the dim light of daybreak.

But while a thin and tall silhouette approached its prey with an unsteady step, the wolf, rather than changing its target, got it into his head that the latter wanted to steal his meal. His chops curled, Alan groaned in annoyance, huffing through his nostrils as he walked around the lamb and the one in his path, making the fallen leaves rustle and crackle with each step he took.

Almost instinctively as Anita saw the impeccably large wolf rush across the space in front of her she looked up into the sky. Of course it was a full moon. Without giving it much thought, she rolled her eyes in light annoyance. Sure, part of her pitied werewolves for the fact that they were so controlled by the lunar phase. But mostly she thought it was another bit of proof of Lamia superiority. 

It appeared from the wolf’s movements that he didn’t want Anita getting to the lamb but it took her a few moments to figure out the likely reason why. “You’re gonna eat that poor little guy, aren’t you? I mean… come on dude. Look at it!” She gestured enthusiastically at the tiny creature behind him. “Like, go find a stupid human to eat or something. Doesn’t that sound more appetizing?” 

The lamb bleat again. Alan's claws curled against the damp floor, leaves and dirt crumpling under the wolf's massive paws. A low growl, guttural, coming from deep within replied to the poor vegetable lamb. That woman really was going to stop a wolf from eating the proverbial lamb? Even as a human, he loved a damn lamb chop, Easter’s roasted lamb leg, which his mother prepared better than anyone else. 

If she wasn’t going to move, he was going to make her. With a bark, a short yelp, Alan took another step forward. It’s just a fucking lamb, move. He wouldn’t have dreamed of slaughtering such an innocent little thing as a human, but as a wolf, Alan didn’t feel so disgusted about ripping a man’s head off or feasting off of his organs. Funny how that worked. Hairs raised on his back, the werewolf growled again, baring his teeth in final warning. Yeah, if she wasn’t gonna move, he was going to go ahead and eat them both. 

Clearly logic and reason were not going to get her anywhere with the dense wolf. While she never minded resorting to violence Anita did prefer to use her intellect over brute strength. Not that she lacked in either category, though. “Okay, okay, big guy… give me a second here.” Gently, Anita tossed her purse off to the side of her and then began to take off her faux leather jacket. “I mean, we’re in a forest. You have plenty of other snacks about.” 

After discarding the jacket in the general direction of her purse, Anita shook her shoulders out in an over-the-top dramatic fashion. “Last chance to walk away,” though she didn’t give much of a chance admittedly and immediately began to shift into her lamia form. The rough green, brown, and yellow scales of the mojave danced along her body and within seconds she was towering over the wolf. “Back off, furball,” she hissed. 

Eyes trained on the woman, Alan’s head tilted to the side as she tossed her bag, and then her jacket to the side. That was dramatic. He’d have liked her a lot in different circumstances. Of course, he didn’t really understand why she was doing all this. Getting naked in the forest was the sort of activity you expected from nudists and shifters. Nudists didn’t particularly strike him as the type to chill in front of an angry werewolf. 

A tawny owl’s shriek distracted him for just a split second, long enough for him to miss part of her transformation into a gigantic beast. Alan only had himself to blame as he realized a bit too late that a normal fucking woman would have ran away in the sight of him even one who had had, like her, one too many drinks at the bar. Fuck. Even standing on his hind legs, the wolf only reached the snake’s height now. In her back, the lamb’s bleating had resumed, and angry eyes remained set on their objective. 

And yet, in the far distance, by the horizon, fate was pushing forward in favor of the innocent bleating plant. It would be minutes only before the moon released the hold it had on the realtor, one long minute, during which the lamb’s fate would remain uncertain, during which his hunger would listen to no other logic than the law of nature. 

Being in her true lamia form always made Anita feel more powerful and centered. The restrictions on her human senses stripped away and the world opened up before her - she could see the hot and cold patches of the world and with a quick flip of her tongue she was inundated with a melody of scents. It was soiled only by the wet dog smell before her. 

Anita avoided fighting with her fellow shifters when she could - and she had no intention to cause any real harm to the wolf - but she didn’t mind some friendly combat when it presented itself. She was not bound by any natural cycle in her transformations and admittedly was never quite sure how deep into the morning wolves maintained their power. None of that mattered to her, however. 

Pushing forward slightly and closing the distance between them,  her focus remained locked on the lycan. The lamb was behind her and unless her foe could get past her scales and fangs, it would surely remain unharmed that evening. Maybe Anita would have paid closer attention to her surroundings if not for the drinks that were still coursing through her cold bloodstream. She seemingly forgot that in a town like Wicked’s Rest, danger always lurked in every inch of the forest. 

Baring his teeth again as she darted toward him, Alan stepped back from the nightmarish creature, and as wolves did, threw his head back and howled to the moon. Some wolves far in the distance, some undoubtedly closer to them joined his plea. Guided by seemingly feral instincts, the werewolf growled low, barking, yet keeping his distance. He had seen those fangs, and he could only imagine what they’d do to him, but he had one objective and he was willing to take a shot at it.

The more the sun approached the horizon, the more he’d be able to regain a sense of consciousness but for now the wolf’s padded paws carried him quietly around the mismatched pair, leaving a trail of pheromones that could have betrayed his current mood. He was upset. He should have sensed that she wasn’t human. Was the idea of a meal so important to his stomach that it completely disconnected his brain? He was upset, frustrated, but not willing to let go of what he wanted without putting up a fight. Eyes shifting between her and the lamb, the wolf first darted to her left, before going back on all fours to try a new approach on her right, sprinting through the fallen leaves. 

The cry of the wolves echoed loudly in Anita’s head. Typically a pack creature, she wondered if those who cried out in response to him would come join in his potential skirmish. It was sort of funny, seeing the wolf preparing to attack. Was he aware of how quickly Anita could end this if she wanted to? Did he have any idea how potent the venom within her was? Probably not. Nor would he find out, not anytime soon anyway. In the hierarchy of life, the wolf did sit above the vegetable lamb. Both of which were above humans, and all of which were below lamia. That meant that if she had to pick between letting the lamb die and killing the wolf, the sacrifice was clear. 

As she worked to anticipate how the attack would come Anita let her tail do its thing and emit a gentle rattle, gradually getting louder. It served as one final warning. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t head the warning. Initially, following his own movement, the snake moved to her left prepared to address the anticipated attack. She was less prepared for an attack from the right, but not unprepared. Her tail was ready to thwart off the attack, whipping around and making contact with the side of her opponent. 

The wolf might have been mighty in the forest, the gigantic snake, though it didn’t seem to fit right in the septentrional woods, must have been royalty in another ecosystem. Alan’s flank was brutally hit by her tail. He knew already that he would bruise there, bruises that would certainly cause wincing and grimacing in the days to come. Still, he didn’t like to stoop down, accept defeat or back down. When he had something in mind, Alan didn’t stop until he had it. 

The wolf might have yelped in pain seconds before, it was back on its front legs now, examining the snake’s movements. She moved faster than he had anticipated, and those fangs looked like they could tear right through him as if he were made of butter but he was confident he could move faster yet. He had legs. Clearly that must have given him an advantage, right? 

The rattling of her tail could become an advantage if he paid more attention to it. He just had to dart to the right again, remain quick on his feet, keep on moving and then leap claws out, toward the bleating small thing, to drag it into the depths of the woods with him. A growl carried through his first steps toward the scaly creature, dying out as he picked up speed and executed his plan. 

There was some twisted joy that rushed through Anita when she heard the wolf cry out, even if the pain she inflicted didn’t seem to slow him down at all. It had been a little while since she had been in an all-out brawl like this before and her adrenaline was spiking. That plus the alcohol coursing through her prevented the cold breeze of the nighttime from bothering her. 

Working as strategically as she could muster, Anita tried to fend off the hairy beast. While her size compared to the wolf was certainly an asset it also made her a bigger target. Normally she would make herself a smaller target by looping her tail around herself and above her head, but it wasn’t just her own wellbeing she was selflessly defending - she had to keep the lamb safe. It was that thought that made her realize that something in the air had shifted, a new smell wafting her way and a small but present heat signature from her peripheral. Distracted, her guard was down for just long enough to allow the wolf to land a swift attack. Her tail rattled louder and faster, as she felt her focus being torn between the known threat in front of her and the concern over what was approaching their battle ground. She wasn’t willing, however, to take her eyes off of the wolf. She wasn’t willing to lose a fight to a wolf. Even if that meant losing the lamb. 

Todd was an idiot. Chad had just proven it. 

This was the perfect addition to the hazing process but no. Todd insisted that it was too dangerous to send freshmen in the woods on a full moon. And yet, Chad had just spent one complete night in here, and was now walking out without even a scratch. Aside from a couple of owls, deers, one moose and the distant howl of wolves, far, far inside The Pines, he hadn’t really seen much action tonight. The sun was rising now, and he was about to walk back to the frat house triumphant, with evidence of his prowess. Chad : 1 Spineless Todd : 0 

“Fucking moron,” with a scoff, the business student reached in his pocket for cigarettes. 

The wolves howled again. Were they getting closer? That was close, right? Heh, if he took a picture of one, he’d surely show this moron just how much of a cheeto-dick asshole he was. 

Quietly, he approached the sound, getting his phone out of his pocket, his cigarette hanging precariously from his lips. This would be a triumph. 

Alan was quick on his feet, but the snake was neither backing down nor showing any signs of tiredness. God fucking damnit. He had to try a different approach. The cold blooded animal really wasn’t his first choice when it came to getting a nice snack and he had his eyes set on that lamb. Sure it was a bit small but the snake was way too big and again, he didn't like the taste of these. 

He tried again, from the right, the left, running low, baring his teeth, but nothing seemed to get past her radar, until… 

Alan might have had less control of himself on full moons, he had enough to keep himself alive. When the largest predator paused to look at the bushes, you didn't keep on attacking. 

Standing on his hind legs, the werewolf's neck craned, hoping to catch a glimpse of their company. Perhaps it was another wolf, who smelled of Takis, blue Gatorade, cigarette smoke and dirt cheap aftershave. Alright, no wolf would have accepted carrying that scent around. 

No… that scent could only come from a goddamn human. 

As the human approached, because it practically had to be a human with that heat signature and stench, Anita’s presumption was that it was a hunter. Had their fight gotten so loud that it really drew that much attention or had they just been so unlucky that a hunter was passing through at the exact wrong time? There was too much to focus on - the wolf, the lamb, the man. Despite her desire to both beat the wolf and keep the lamb out of harm's way, Anita knew that self preservation needed to be her priority. It didn’t much matter what else happened that night, the snake just needed to make it back home in one piece. 

Maybe the human could be a common enemy and the two of them could stop fighting each other for a moment and take care of this interloper first. Her eyes scanned the wolf’s face trying to determine if he was having a similar thought. Anita shot her tail into the general direction of the presumed hunter. They were too far away for it to hit but her intention was simply to signal to the wolf that they weren’t alone. 

“On my signal?” Anita asked quietly, hoping the wolf understood. Without letting him out of her line of sight she began to slowly slither backwards closer towards the approaching person. The plan was to set herself up to make a quick attack against the human before returning to the wolf in the event that he wasn’t interested in taking care of the threat together. Though if it was a hunter there was a chance that Anita’s venom would do nothing more than irritate the man. She’d much rather attack together. 

Ears pulled back, the wolf’s eyes fixated on the intruder. He had seen his fair share of hunters in the past, none of them foolish enough to let the entire forest know they were there through scent alone. One of the defining traits of a good hunter, Alan found, was their ability to make themselves invisible through any mean available. They were remarkably quiet, they often left not a single track behind them, they tried to remain unseen and they did their best not to get spotted with their odor. 

The werewolf narrowed his eyes, lowering himself onto four legs as he examined the man standing before them. He seemed speechless, which wasn’t necessarily a synonym for quiet. 

The snake’s tail hit the ground, lifting dried leaves into the air. Alan looked at her, and something akin to a whimper came as a reply to her question. The human didn’t seem frightened at all. Phone in front of him, as if it were a shield, he seemed blissfully unaware of what awaited him. 

While she took care of the front side of that foolish man, the wolf darted out of the clearing, leaving the bleating lamb there. The sun was starting to break through the leaves, coloring the scenery with hues of pale gold, but though the harness of the moon had now been removed from the wolf, he moved to the side, ready to block any attempt the young man would make at running for his life. 

Anita was never sure if the pure ignorance to present and apparent danger was a learned human deficiency or if it was simply further proof of Darwin’s theories of survival of the fittest. Because, after all, humans were certainly not the fittest creatures and this man was not the fittest in the forest that evening. Expectedly, that meant his chances of surviving the night were not great. 

In sync with her former opponent, Anita began to circle around the opposite direction away from the lamb and around towards their joint prey. She was not sure what the wolf’s plan of action was but it was her intention to not give this man any opportunity to escape his pending fate. Allowing herself to get down low to the ground, her body moved swiftly along the forest as she allowed the gentle shadows created by the moonlight hitting the trees above to conceal a fair amount of her movements. As she closed the gap between herself and this human, who was so clearly at this point not a hunter, Anita prepared her attack. 

Not bothering with her usual methodology of injecting a potent dose of her natural toxin into her victim’s blood stream, Anita quickly lifted her torso up from the ground so that she was suddenly towering over the human. Then, in one swift movement, she opened her mouth as wide as it could and came down upon the man and clamped her fangs down around his lower waist, as she spotted the wolf with his teeth already clamped down on the man’s lower half. She hoped this meal would satisfy his craving and that he would not turn his attention back to the lamb once this feast was completed. 

If he had been fully in control of his psyche, Alan would have been absolutely terrified right then. The snake blended in well in this environment, and the morning sun did a number on his perception of her movements. If he could have been mesmerized by it, what came next was horrifying.

No matter how much shit he had been exposed to through these last years, nothing prepared you to see a man getting nearly swallowed whole by a gigantic snake. But his werewolf had taken over, and Alan could only decide on what leg he would sink his teeth in, on where he would drag his half of the man to, but certainly not on whether he wanted to do that. No. Tonight, he once again had not been in control of the what. Only of the how. 

Undisturbed by the shattering of bones, the spilling viscera, the wolf growled low as he raised onto his back limbs, the intruder's ankle in his jaw and the rest of his legs dangling to the side. Blood stained his grey coat of fur as he confronted the snake one last time. His gaze was drawn to the lamb again, but the taste of blood on his tongue seemed more enticing than that little tender thing there. 

His prize secure, he retreated out of the clearing, leaving the snake behind him. 

So engrossed in her meal, which had quite a strange aftertaste that she didn’t quite enjoy, Anita had almost missed the fact that the wolf retreated out of the area and into the shadows and anonymity of the woods surrounding them. She looked back towards where the lamb had been and felt content in knowing that it would survive another day. Would it survive longer than that? Well, that wasn’t her concern anymore. 

Her attention darted between her jacket and purse that she had discarded near the lamb and the treeline where the wolf had disappeared into. Glancing up, she noted that the moon was nearly gone as the dawn had nearly replaced the dusk. Anita wondered how immediate the reverse transformation happened once the lunar influence disappeared. 

Swiftly, to try and catch up to the other shifter quickly, Anita darted towards the woods. Each second that passed was filled with less moon light. As she moved expertly around the trees she suddenly heard a telling noise, the familiar sound of bones crushing. Slowing herself down and zeroing in on the wolf’s heat signature, Anita caught the tail end of his transformation back into human. The man was scruffy and completely naked … and familiar? Yes, she knew that face somehow but she couldn’t place it. Interesting. Had he recognized her too? That would have to be a question answered another day, and Anita quickly darted back out of the woods to collect her discarded purse and jacket before finally making her way home.

[cupcakemolotov]

When Blood Calls for Blood

Hmm. This was supposed to be a mafia story for the AU Season that @klaroline-event is putting on, and instead descended into the depths of blood magic and werewolves, and some horror. Your guess is as good as mine as how that happened. Anyway. Hopefully this still works for Crime week. People ARE murdered.

Here you go. You can read it on A03 if you prefer.

Warnings: Blood Magic, Werewolves, Necromancy, death, some gore but not a lot, discussion about sex but no actual smut in this.

                                                           -

The brandy in her glass was excellent, but she hadn’t expected anything else. Klaus had come a long way from the boy next door with skinned knees and paint smeared fingers. That it’d been nearly a decade since she’d seen him hadn’t changed nearly as much as she’d have liked. Same tumbled curls, same dimples, same charm that lingered like a second skin over the sharper, harder parts of his smile. But now, his thinness had filled out into lean strength and he’d grown into the shape of his nose, the curve of his jaw. 

Caroline hadn’t expected to like the look of him as much as she did after all this time. Had hoped some distance would dull the want that had once lingered between them. She also hadn’t anticipated the way his gaze could still trace against her skin with the same intensity of a touch, but now with a new, markedly adult male appreciation that hinted at all sorts of fun things. Dangerous things, thoughts she’d pushed away much easier with the naivete of a teenager than she was finding herself able to do as a grown woman. 

Klaus had never been easy to ignore.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?” She asked once he’d leaned a hip against the desk next to him when she’d chosen not to sit. She didn’t know this man as well as she once had and she wasn’t prepared to be that vulnerable. Not yet. “We both know what you sent Elijah to tell me you wanted. I want to know why you think I should go along with it.”

A hint of a smile curved his lips. There was a strange sort of affection in his gaze which surprised her, in this childhood home of his, this house of horrors that had birthed monsters. She wished Enzo was there, to tell them if there were ghosts. If the rotting bones of Mikael beneath their feet still suffered.

“I’ve missed your directness, love. Most people are too afraid of me to try it.” His lashes lowered for a heartbeat, and his voice deepened. “And far too terrified to offer such blatant disapproval.”

Caroline gave him an unconcerned look. “I agreed  to this meeting because we were once friends. Not because I bought into the spiel that Elijah was selling. I walked away from this kind of life, and I had very good reasons to do so. You know that.”

A flash of something wolf-yellow glimmered faintly at the edges of his gaze, but she didn’t flinch. Klaus was dangerous. So very, very dangerous. Here, in Mystic Falls where they’d both spent their childhoods, it was almost possible to forget the lessons Chicago and New York had already learned. But Caroline had learned to deal with Klaus and his caustic mix of power and temper years earlier. A little of the wolf wasn’t enough to warn her off. 

Though it did intrigue her. Before, his control had been something held together by tenterhooks, his rage palpable. She had wondered if he’d buried it deep in his bones, left it to fester in muscle and marrow, but that glimmer told her he’d made a different choice. 

She was glad.

“Blood calls to blood, love.” There was something in his voice, a note that was sharp and apologetic both. “And you are Bill Forbes daughter.”

Caroline wrinkled her nose at the reminder. “I’m going to need more brandy if that's the angle you're taking. Thankfully, he only provided half my genetics, and none of my looks.”

The hard line of his shoulders eased, her words answering some unspoken question. “I know.”

Her expression sharpened. She did not like that he was able to read her so well. “If you’re not going to get to the point, I will leave.”

His laugh was soft, and unexpected. And it did nothing to lessen her mad. Reaching up, he briefly rubbed his neck and when his gaze returned to hers. The blue was gone, awash with gold and wolf. Inexplicably, her own tension gave, if just a little. She might no longer know the man, but she understood the wolf. 

“Elijah says you are well informed of my ongoings.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if that’s hard. A werewolf with the bad taste to be born to a witch, and who the poor manners of eating other witches is not, exactly, an unknown creature in the local gossip. Mystic Falls does so love it’s little horrors. It’s not like it’s hard to figure out where you’re going or where you’ve been.”

His dimples creased his cheeks. “That’s true. And yet, here you are.”

The implied threat was said teasingly. Caroline deliberately took a sip of her brandy. “If your wolf had wanted me dead, it would have made the attempt that when I was thirteen and tossed you three pine trees to save Enzo. If the man had wanted me dead, Elijah would never have sworn a binding saying this meeting was done in truce.” Her smile was sharp. “At least not knowingly. My magic is not kind when it comes to broken vows, and he hates me.”

His gaze narrowed at the blunt reminder, but his voice held no hint of anger. Just a hunting triumph. “I found Rebekah.”

And everything snapped into place. Setting her glass down, she stared at him. “And Elijah couldn't have led with that?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t…” Caroline stared at him for a long moment before tossing back her drink and moving towards one of the chairs. Ten years. It’d been ten years, and she understood everything those words meant. “Fine. I’ll bite. What is going on?”

To her surprise, he chose the chair next to her. His gaze holding hers, he deliberately tipped his knee lightly against her own. “Rebekah is in New Orleans.”

Her brows furrowed and her words were honest as she tried to ignore the feel of him against her. That sparking challenge in his eyes. “But you looked there years ago.”

That slow, thoughtful smile curled on his face again and she wished she hadn’t finished the brandy. “You have been tracking me.”

Caroline sighed and for the first time, looked away. She did not want to speak of the need to know he was still alive, to trust that he’d find some kind of reason after the death of his step-father. The wolf could have easily poisoned the man with its hate as the man could have destroyed the wolf with its rage.

“My father… the things he did.” Her words died and she shrugged. “I miss her too.”

They were survivors, her and Klaus. Enzo and Rebekah, though they were missing. Witchborn and powerful, they were the last remnants of bloodlines and blood feuds that should have never existed. Klaus, with his wolf and his rage. Enzo, with his affinity for the dead and his wicked sense of humor. Rebekah, the living embodiment of her mother’s hopes and wishes, but without the same darkness. And she? She was her father’s daughter, for all the Liz Forbes had done her best to temper it. 

“Then you’ll help me.”

And that blatant satisfaction, the roughness of his wolf in his voice warned her that he thought he had won. She let her gaze return Klaus’ face, and the force of temper clashed against his. She did not like being boxed in. He needed to remember that. “Will I? What I owed you was a blood debt and that was paid in full. What my family did to yours was terrible, but what Esther did to my mother was also terrible. There are no debts between us, not anymore.”

Enzo might argue that point, but her wiley best friend had been missing nearly as long as Rebekah. 

“You’ll help me,” Klaus repeated, unbothered by her irritation. Her temper, the surge of power that came with it, had always bothered him as little as his wolf had unnerved her. “And in turn, I will help you.”

“And what,” Caroline drawled, “do I need your help with? I’m perfectly capable of burying bodies on my own these days.” She wiggled her manicured fingers. “I don’t even have to break a nail to do it.”

That flicker of affection again, tempered by determination. He reached for an envelope that sat on the edge of his desk and handed it to her. “I’d have helped you regardless, but this might make things more comfortable between us.”

She snorted even as she opened the envelope to pull out a single sheet. “Things have never been particularly comfortable between us at all.”

Caroline ignored the deeply satisfied noise he made and looked at the picture. Enzo’s face, battered, bruised, stared up at her and she went motionless at the tangle of anger and fear that swept through her. “How…”

She’d looked. 

“It took finding Rebekah.” A bitterness in his voice she understood. “And once I did, I knew where to look. The scattered pieces of our past are not easy things, love.”

Mute with rage, she glanced back at him. 

“When the Witch Council attempted to end the feud between our families, they were not prepared for the realities of what that would mean.” His teeth gleamed behind his lips. “They were ill prepared for our families' hate, I imagine our cooperation never occurred to them.”

Caroline snorted. They should have been prepared for all of it. Feuding witches were no small thing. Though in her more charitable moments, she allowed that some things just could not have been foreseen. Not the fallout from Ester’s affair, not Bill’s jealousy, not Mikael’s malice. 

Rebekah should have been safe. They should have all been safe. None of them had been. 

“They should have done better.”

His smile held teeth. “Yes.”

It had been her and Enzo, who had held Mikael with their magic while Klaus had shifted to wolf to rip his step-father apart. Enzo, who had commanded the dead man to dig his own grave in the study Mikael had been so fond of. Later, Klaus had opened a bottle of expensive bourbon and they had gotten drunk listening to the sound of a shovel moving dirt.

It had taken hours to repair the foundation with magic.

Mystic Fall was full of so many nightmares. 

Her gaze returned to the picture in her hands. And something turned cold and brittle in her chest. “That is the symbol of St. Augustine.”

“Yes.”

She stood then and paced toward the window. When she spoke, her words trembled with magic. Behind her, the desk shuddered. She hadn’t been this close to losing her temper since the day she walked into her home to find it smelling of blood and her mother’s death. Had found what she had been meant to see. 

 “The Augustine Society belongs to the Witch Council.” Her fists clenched. “And have Enzo.”

She knew the Augustine Society. The horrors the Witch Council offered them. She knew, because her father had also belonged to that society before blood madness had taken him. And they had possibly the greatest necromancer of her generation, trapped. 

Fingertips brushed lightly down the bare nap of her neck. The touch was possessive, careful. An old trick, to anchor her. It made it no less personal. “So it is.”

Caroline closed her eyes. She hadn’t heard him move. “What did my father do, that you cannot claim your sister?”

“It’s a blood bind. I cannot break it.”

“No,” she murmured, letting the soft touches of his fingertips focus her. “You wouldn’t be able too.”

“But you can.” His words were lethal in their softness, coaxing in their delivery. “You're more powerful.”

“Flattery,” she said. Then she sighed. “But you’re not wrong. Still, the witches of New Orleans will never allow me into their city.”

They’d never allow Liz Forbes' daughter in their heart of power. The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. So strange, for a city to fear her mother’s blood.

Strange, but not unwise.

“I didn’t plan on asking permission.”

She turned to face him then, letting the window at her spine hold her weight and studied his face. Such arrogance, but not unwarranted. A full coven might face the nightmare he gave shape too with his bones, but perhaps not. Klaus had cut quite a swath through the witch families in the US. 

His mother’s perfect monster. 

“A blood bind will not be easy to break, not after so many years since it was cast.” She considered what it meant, how far gone her father had been in his madness. “I will likely need a sacrifice, and that is a magic I have sworn not to use lightly.”

“You won’t fall to the same madness.” The assurance in his voice was so, so arrogant. “I will not allow it.”

Caroline gave a bark of laughter. “You cannot know that, cannot expect to dictate such a thing.”

“But I can,” he disagreed. “I’ve seen your magic, Caroline. I’ve witnessed the price of it, the horror of it, and justice of it. Esther’s death was not easy. I know what you are.”

“Ester deserved more,” she said. “But we work with what we have. And I am no longer, sixteen, Klaus. What anchored me as a teenager will not work for the adult.”

Then it’d had been enough to cling to his wolf. To bury her face and hands in the thick pelt of his fur while she rode out the drowning horror, the unrelenting ecstasy of her magic, to let the sensation of fur on skin be the distraction from the siren call of endless power. The blood she wore on her skin.

She’d always liked his wolf. 

Blood magic was dangerous. And witches who practiced it always, always lost themselves. Caroline’s father had been no exception. She would likely not be either. Thankfully, she wasn’t just her father’s daughter. 

“And what,” Klaus asked lightly, eyes deepening to the blue of the man, something as dark as the working of her magic coloring his voice. “Do you need?”

Her nails dug into her palms and she lifted her chin. “What are you offering?”

Klaus’ head lowered until his nose nearly brushed hers, his mouth tantalizing close to hers. “Anything you want.”

Her teeth sank briefly into her lip and she sighed. “We both know how my father chose to feed his need and how well that worked for him.”

Satisfaction and a want so blatant and greedy on his face, she struggled to suck in her next breath. “Steven knew what he was doing when he agreed to join your father’s bed. He was aware of the risks. So am I.”

Her voice shook only a little when she spoke. “Rebekah’s temper is no small thing, Klaus. If she wakes up to me fucking her brother, I don’t think she’s going to be pleased.” 

His hand lifted to curve along her jaw, thumb brushing tantalizing across her lips. “Elijah can secure Bekah, once she is free.”

And Elijah would just love that. “So you are planning on telling him you found her.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Both he and Kol will be needed for this. Even if only a mirage, we must show the world where our loyalties lie.”

Caroline winced. “They still haven’t forgiven you for not kiling me, then.”

When Elijah had appeared at her home to request her presence for this meeting, she’d almost hoped. 

“As they are not strong enough to oppose me, their opinions of your magic do not matter.” His jaw tightened. “From either side of your family.”

“Klaus…” She caught his hand. “They are not wrong. Blood magic is an abomination, not counting what my mother left me with her death. Killing me would likely make the world a better place.” 

His eyes flared with his wolf, and his words were near violent with intensity. “I disagree. Am I too, not an abomination? You protested quite viciously when my mother attempted to do just that.”

His voice sounded the same as it always had, when he spoke of her murdering his mother. Delighted satisfaction with a hint of growl.

Caroline rolled her lip tightly between her teeth. This was what her mother had never understood. What Esther had miscalculated. This tugging in her chest, as she thought about a world without Klaus. The way he dared her with his eyes and his worlds to repeat herself, to suggest he would allow the world to exist without her. The thing that had left her walking away from him, uncertain what lengths she could allow herself to go to preserve it. 

The boy who had painted her flowers and the man who understood the depth of what she could become, what she feared. 

But he’d found Rebekah. Enzo.

“You understand that if I agree to this, it won’t end with rescuing Rebekah and Enzo,” she said slowly. Likely wouldn’t end with her willing to walk away from him a second time, and the bloody future that promised. “I’m not that forgiving. If the Augustine Society was part of this, if they supported my father? Enzo will want them dead and so will I.”

“Oh, sweetheart, as if I’d object.” His mouth curved. “But why stop there? Not when we both know the Witch Council had to be involved.”

So much destruction. So much blood. Carefully, she reached up with her free hand and traced the shape of his mouth while he went carefully motionless. “It would be helpful, if the sacrifice had a tie to Bekah.”

His lips pursed against her fingers for a moment before he moved just enough to respond. “The Salvatore’s are in New Orleans.”

And that terrible anger, that thirst she’d managed to choke into behaving for ten years unfurled in her chest. “What a coincidence.”

And Klaus, whose monster knew her own, just smiled. “Isn’t it just?”

“How are you planning on explaining my presence in New Orleans?”

Mischief, sudden and startling, crossed his face. “The witches can hardly object to my bringing a date to Mardi Grais. The same as I have done for the past four years, in fact.”

Caroline blinked, and tried not to think about the twist of jealousy in her gut. “I am not pretending to be in a relationship with you.”

“Who said anything about pretending?” His eyes laughed at her but his words were serious. “Shouldn’t you take a man to dinner before post ritual sex?”

She glowered at him, just to be contrary. “No.”

He shrugged, unperturbed.“We’re still sharing a room.”

She choked on a sudden laugh, at how easy and playful he made this. As they weren’t courting madness and the wrath of the council as they freed their family. As if everything was just a matter of them going out and conquering their enemies with his teeth and their magic. 

Simple, really. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Caroline questioned. “This… this will change everything.”

Klaus lowered his head, pressing his forehead to hers and smiled, dimples bracketing a smile made of sin and blood lust that struck her in her chest. The smile of a predator well satisfied.

“Yes, I think it will.”

[imnotevenhere9]

If you're still doing Matchups, could I please get one for Lotr and The Hobbit please? Thanks so much!

🌱 She/They Nonbinary // Bisexual // Autistic and Chronically Ill with a bonus Anxiety Disorder // 18 years old at the moment

🌱 I know a lot of Home Remedies and Superstitions for like no reason. For instance, did you know that Raspberry Tea helps with Menstrual Pain, or that knocking on wood invokes the protection of the tree spirit and that’s why it’s said to give you luck? I don’t know why I know that, but I do.

🌱 Winning a fight is on my bucket list, but it has to be for a good reason. I’m not one to just pick fights for the sake of fighting, and I’m actually pretty conflict-averse, so I need to actually have a solid reason for throwing hands. But I’ve always wanted to do it for some reason.

🌱 I often get the inexplicable urge to bake something, so my loved ones just kinda end up with surprise brownies and zucchini bread at random. This habit has only worsened over Quarantine, of course.

🌱 I really like studying Witchcraft for some reason. The first spell I ever performed was a Healing Spell to help my friend who was sick with Crohn's Disease. Thirty minutes after performing the ritual, I got a text saying he felt a lot better and he was released from the hospital a couple days later, so I guess it must’ve worked. 😁

🌱 My love language is definitely gift giving. I’m pretty cheap, but I’m also an artist, so when push comes to shove I’ll just make something for someone when I like them. I pay very close attention to what people like because it gives me more ideas on how to interact with them. I’m essentially a large, flightless Crow. You were nice, so you get something shiny. But though I like giving gifts to others, I’m not very materialistic at all. I prefer to be practical when it comes to things, and I get very nervous when spending money.

🌱 I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

🌱My Dad’s a really good cook and I seem to have inherited that gene. He actually has me make dinner whenever we’re having eggs because I always cook them better than he does.

🌱 I’ve always wanted to be a really good gardener. My dream house is just covered in flowers and plants and such. I want to live in a Greenhouse, basically.

🌱 I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them.

🌱 You know the sort of “Girl Next Door” trope? That’s my type. Like the guy in the dorm just down the hall, or the girl in my neighborhood who I casually flirt with. I’m a sucker for cute little interactions like that, so it’s not too much of a surprise that I always fall for people like that. I never forget people I meet on the road, and often find myself hoping to meet up with them again someday.

🌱 I know way too much about Spirits and Fae. My favorite book is called ‘The Encyclopedia of Spirits’ and it shows you how to contact and interact with a ton of different deities and spirits, and I’m addicted to reading it. It’s the best.

🌱 I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

🌱 I always have to have some sort of weight on me to feel comfortable, because of my Autism. That usually takes the form of a large backpack stuffed with books and snacks, or a big jacket. However, my muscles are always pretty stiff and achy, so that does kinda backfire too.

🌱My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

🌱 I really love History, Folklore, Mythology and Fairy Tales. My favorite is the Irish myth of Oisín in Tir Na Nog. Look it up if you don’t know it, it’s a fantastic story. But I also appreciate myths from all sorts of different cultures, like the myth of Annapurna in India or the tale of Princess Kaguya in Japan. Did you know that in Mesopotamian Mythology, Nonbinary People were said to be given the gift of prophecy and magic by the goddess Ishtar? And that a recurring figure in Slavic Folklore is the Snake King, who’s just a big ol’ snake with a doofy looking crown? I love it.

🌱 I’m an Aquarius, INFP and 4w5 if that means anything. For reference, characters who are also 4w5 INFPs include Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice), Wirt (Otgw), Frankenstein’s Monster, Luna Lovegood (HP), Napstablook (Undertale), The Phantom of the Opera, and Celeste from Animal Crossing. That kinda tells you a lot about me, doesn’t it?

🌱 I’ve been growing my hair out, so it’s getting pretty long too. It’s always messy, and I both use a lot of conditioner and it naturally curls when wet, so I basically end up having a very fluffy mane with a lot of stray hairs and weird curls. Also, fun fact, I never learned how to braid because I’ve only really made friends with boys and I have very poor hand-eye coordination when it comes to such things. And my hair is so thin and fluffy that it’s impossible to tame anyways, so the best I can do is put it in a ponytail, since I’m basically incapable of doing anything fancier than that. When worst comes to worse, I have plenty of hats though.

🌱 I have really pale skin that’s always covered in moles, freckles (especially on my arms) and lots of scabs. It’s also getting warmer out, so chances are that I have a farmer’s tan. I have blue eyes and glasses.

🌱 I have a habit of seeing shadows move out of the corners of my eyes, frequently mistaking them for people or animals, but when I turn to look there’s nothing there. I’ve gotten my eyesight checked multiple times, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so it’s either a lack of sleep, or the Fae are getting antsy with me. Probably the former of course, but part of me would like to believe the

Oof, sorry that description was so long! I really hope you don't mind. Thanks so much in advance!!

A/n: I made it really wholesome (at least in my eyes), so I hope you like it! ^_^

Masterlist • Prompts • S/o match ups • Taglist

S/o from The Hobbit: Kili! 

will take your hands and kiss all the moles and freckles when you two are alone

listens to you talking about Fairy Tales while hugging you from behind and plays with your hair

likes to fall asleep with you on his chest, so he can plent small kisses on your head

loves everything you bake, it doesn’t matter if he heard of it or not, he always gets so excited to try what you baked

gives the best massages. He will prepare a bubble bath, help you stretch, whatever makes your achy muscles hurt less

small peaks behind your shoulder when you're

S/o from LOTR: Arwen!

adores your hair. Like literally. She loves to braid them, brush them, run her fingers through them, basically everything you can think of

please share everything you know and learnes about Home Remedies and Superstitions. She loves listening to you talk, it doesn't matter if she already knows all of it, she just wants to listen to you talk about it

your random giggles? In her eyes the cutest thing ever. Just hearing you giggling brightens her day so much

will probably go outside and get messy with you, because she loves to see you happy

gets shy when you give her gifts, she loves them all so much tho

will get you different books about Witchcraft, so you can learn and practice more!

[valkyrieofsmut]

Engel de la Gargouille  Section 2 part 4

Engel de la Gargouille (Gargoyle’s Angel)

Kurt Wagner/ Nightcrawler x Female OC

Types: Smut, Angst, Mutual pining, Pregnancy, Romance, Love, Insecurity, Long as hell…

Overall series warnings: Smut, bit of violence, swearing, German (translations provided, but I have bad grammar… Sorry native speakers…) (Will be added as they come up) Chapter warnings will be added individually as well.

A/n-  Very powerful scene to start with just a hint of self hatred, hey, just to remind you that you don’t need to fit in by others standards? Some awkward dorkiness, and lack of confidence.

Masterlist       Series Masterlist

Story!

Angeline thought through everything she needed to do, getting it straight in her mind so that it would be able to go smooth later, when she was enacting her plan.

She borrowed the keys for one of the cars and drove to the store, wishing she didn't have to do this herself, but knowing that if she went to a professional, even the way her wings were hugged so close to her right now that you couldn't tell that it wasn't just her body under her shirt would be able to save her if they saw her tail while waxing.

Angeline stood in front of the wall of hair removal products, surprised by how many of them were French.

Her mother had always insisted on the best, so she had always gone to a spa to be waxed before, and the different types of products confused her. Luckily, the staff was very kind and helpful, explaining the difference between hard wax and soft wax, and had a DVD that explained the whole process that they put in a bundle of items to get a better price for her.

She went through the make up, picking out a few things to make sure she had what she needed in the colors she needed, and paid for everything before going to the other stores in the mall to gather the rest of what she needed for her plan.

She drove back to the mansion and put the keys back in their place, then went upstairs to her room and laid everything out before going to shower and scrub where she was about to torture.

After drying off and spending what felt like hours ripping the hair from her body, one strip at a time, she made sure there were no hairs or wax left on her and soothed her poor skin with lotion as it healed.

When she was completely done, she pulled on her underthings, which were just her everyday bra and panties, then she stood in front of the mirror on her wall and worked on her hair, brushing, straightening, curling, drying when needed, adding a pin here or there to make a certain look with it, and when she stood back, it looked perfect. Of course. Just like always.

She pulled the bag of makeup to the mirror with her, setting all of it out and applying it. She had watched her mother apply it to her, and herself, so many times, she knew how to move her fingers and twist the brush just right to get the desired effect.

She leaned back from the mirror and saw that she had done, maybe not as good of a job as her mother did, but it still highlighted her face to the perfection she had gotten used to seeing in the mirror when her mother finished.

Last, she dressed. Angeline opened the package of thigh highs and pulled them on, leaving the tops just a little low so you could see the bows at the sides, then pulled on a skirt that she hadn't worn in a long time because it was too short for modesty, brushing the tops of her thighs and leaving two or so inches between the hem and the tops of her stockings.

Next was a shirt, a beautiful deep color that set off her skin, falling off both shoulders to allow her wings to be free, and not quite meeting the waist of her skirt. It was tight enough that the only thing left to the imagination was what color her bra was, and that was a little obvious from her inability to cover the straps on her shoulders.

After pulling on the high heels that gave her a bit more height, she stood back so she could look at herself in the mirror, standing in a pool of moonlight.

She was the height of sexy right now. She almost felt that when she started walking the song Pour some sugar on me by Def Leppard should start playing, like it did when the “sexiest woman alive” character walked in slow motion in the American movies she'd watched with her stepfather.

It was perfect; this is what she was going for, what she had planned on. If she was going to make a last stand to get Kurt's attention, turn it up and give it her all, she was going all out.

She gave a seductive face to the mirror to check if her skills were rusty, but they weren't; they had been ingrained well enough to survive.

Kurt would have to be dead not to notice her, now. She was the height of perfect physical beauty her mother had intended for her to be as she turned and shifted into a seductive pose.

Angeline froze, straightening and staring at her reflection in the mirror for a moment before shifting and looking at herself as a whole.

She was sexy perfection.

She looked just like her mother would have wanted her to for an audition at her age of twenty. 

She had become what she had fought so hard not to. 

She was selling sex for what she wanted. 

She had become her mother's perfect little sex object.

Angeline's heart sped up, starting to race in her chest as she stared at herself.

She was selling herself- for what?

Kurt didn't pay attention to her, and dressing like the slut they accused her to be was probably not going to change that.

She couldn't blame him. There she stood, dressed to seduce, dumbing herself down to how she looked, removing anything that was actually herself until all that was left was this pathetic little whore-

And she hated herself.

She hated the way her hair looked, she hated wearing makeup, she hated the way her shirt hugged her, she hated the way the skirt was so short that she couldn't bend over without flashing whatever kind of underwear she was wearing, she hated these stupid high heels, and the slutty thigh highs, she hated her perfection- she hated that she was doing this for a man.

Even if Kurt was the most amazing man in the world, even if soul mates existed, even if he was the angel to her gargoyle! She was a low little whore like this, and it was not what should be expected of her. Not what she should expect from herself.

She wouldn't want to be around her either.

The strength from the darkness outside and the moonlight falling on her built in her muscles, and suddenly, Angeline grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling it down and tearing it open.

Anger and hatred for this thing she'd become fueled her as she ripped her skirt off, ripping it apart in her hands again and throwing it away from her as tears slid down her face.

She grabbed at the stockings, tearing holes in them as she fought to get them off without taking off her heels.

She shrugged off her torn shirt and spat on it a few times before wiping at her face and smearing her makeup as she tried unsuccessfully to get it off.

The rage had filled her, and she pulled off a high heel, holding it in her hand and using the point of the heel like a hammer to repeatedly smash the mirror in hatred for what she saw.

Angeline stood, her breath pushing heavily at her chest as she stared at the shattered mirror, swearing she'd never, ever look like that again.  

…    …    …    

Angeline had never been to a real dance, but she supposed that this would be as close to one as she'd be able to find around here; it was one of the student's birthday, and for her party she had wanted to have a “fancy dress ball”, so everyone was wearing their best dress, the men in suits if they had them, and the women in beautiful, though not necessarily fancy, dresses, as not everyone had something that was fit for a ball.

Angeline had been able to find a nice flowing gown that had probably been an event or concert dress for one of the students before, but they had grown out of it, and her slender, five foot one inch frame fit in it, though the thin shoulder straps were too long, giving her some cleavage as her bust filled it out, and the rest of it hung down her body loosely, looking almost Grecian with the hips just catching hers, but dragging the hem on the ground, as she was shorter than the original owner had been.

She liked it, and was feeling happy and hopeful, wanting Kurt to see her in it, not only because she thought it looked pretty nice and would get his attention, but she hoped that if he had been turned off by the revealing way she'd been dressing before, seeing her in this would show that she had stopped dressing like that. She held the hem up, over her arm, walking through the ballroom, looking for a certain tall, blue, and handsome man, hoping that, given the chance to see her dressed in the large, but still pleasant looking cream colored gown might make his eyes turn to her.

She couldn't find him anywhere, but didn't give up, moving through to the dining room where the cake and refreshments were, and through there to the kitchen, where there were people gathered, then out into the hall and down it, still unable to find him.

She had just turned a corner, pausing to look around there, when she heard some of the other girls a year or two younger than her talking.

“Did you see Angeline running all over, holding her skirt up?”

“Yes, probably making sure everyone sees her in that dress,” the answering girl scoffed.

Angeline felt her heart drop. She hadn't even been thinking of anyone else or how she looked as she ran around, just looking around for Kurt, and that's what they thought of her.

What if that's what he thought of her, too?

Her chest tightened and she felt the sudden need to get away from them.

She hurried away from most of the people, to an area that was less crowded, ending up outside on the stairs. Very few people were out here, as it was starting to get very chilly, and the party was inside, but a few still were, farther away from the school.

Angeline drifted down the stairs, now uncertain where to go, and sat on a step, pulling her feet up on the edge and wrapping her arms around her legs. She watched the few other people milling around at least a few yards away from her, and tried to get her heart to untwist itself.

Kurt didn't necessarily think the things those girls had said about her, he probably hadn't even seen her, yet, she certainly hadn't seen him. She couldn't bring herself to get up and go back inside, wanting to see Kurt, but afraid of what he'd think when he saw her. 

She buried her nose in her knees, feeling a shiver run through her shoulders in the chill of the air. Her vision blurred as she stared blankly at the ground below her, her worries tumbling through her head as though stuck in a dryer; around and around, but always in the same place. She had been feeling confident that she would be able to get Kurt's attention tonight, but, after what she had heard, she was concerned about getting the same kind of attention from him.

She had started shivering from the cold seeping through her dress from the stone stairs, and the chill from the air, but she didn't notice, still stuck in her thoughts. Warm, heavy fabric draped itself around her shoulders, and her head turned up to look at who had placed it there. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Kurt, without his hologram, in a nice pair of jeans and a button up shirt.

“You looked cold,” he told her quietly in answer to the question he thought was about to leave her parted lips.

Her heartbeat sped up now, trying to catch up to how quickly her mind was churning. He was so sweet, she wanted to stand so he could wrap his arms around her, wanted to wrap her arms around him…

She smiled down at her knees before looking up at him, about to say thank you, but he was gone. Her heart wrenched as she looked around until she saw him standing far away from her, talking to Rouge and Kitty, then her nose met her knees again as her heart throbbed painfully.

Kurt looked back over to Angeline where she was on the stairs. She was so beautiful, though she seemed disappointed about something right now.

“You were supposta stay there and talk ta her,” Rouge told him.

“She didn't want to talk,” he answered.

“How do you know, with how fast you ran away?” Kitty asked.

“She didn't even want to look at me,” he muttered. The girls sighed and rolled their eyes in unison. “Why would she?” He asked them. “The cheerleaders never talk to the nerds or outcasts.”

“First, she's not a cheerleader, and second, yes they do! Haven't you seen, like, Revenge of the Nerds, or Can't buy me love, or, like, Superbad?”

Kurt shook his head at Kitty and mocked her speech format. “First, if the school had cheerleaders, I'm pretty sure that she would be one, and second, those are movies! They're not real!”

Rouge laughed, but Kitty pouted. “That doesn’t mean that something like that can’t happen in real life,” she grumbled.

“Ach, Kitty! She would not want to talk to me. Besides, even if she did, I would not be able to talk to her…” Kurt muttered.

Kitty raised a fine brow, pursing her lips in thought.

Rouge shrugged a shoulder. “Sounds like ya need a surrogate.”

Kitty and Kurt both looked to her in confusion.

“He’s not trying to have a baby, Rouge!” Kitty squealed as quietly as she could.

Rouge rolled her eyes and shook the styled loose hairs around her head out of her face as she folded her arms. “I meant someone ta practice on, Kitty! Gawd, got ya mind in the gutta!”

“Oh… Well… Yeah, that might work…” Kitty nodded.

Kurt looked at them, worried what they were planning as they both turned to him and started sizing him up.

“‘Course, might have ta-” Rouge paused, biting her lip.

Kitty copied her posture, and nodded, her hand going to her chin. “Yeah… I mean…”

“Have to… what?” Kurt asked nervously.

“Well, it’s nothing big,” Kitty tried to soothe. “Just that… I mean… If she’s not a virgin…”

Rouge shrugged. “I mean, some women like that… but… I mean, I’ve heard, I haven’t-”

Kitty grinned at Rouge. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure I saw that big, latex-”

“Kitty Pryde, you keep ya damn eyes in ya own room! Ya sneaky rat!” Rouge growled at her.

Kitty laughed. “We’re trying to help Kurt,” she reminded.

Rouge glared at Kitty, but continued. “It’s just that what Kitty is tryin’ ta say is that first times can be difficult, an’ she wants ya ta have as much edge as possible.”

“Hey, you’re the one that brought it up-” Kitty protested.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kurt cut in. “There’s no way that’s going to happen-”

“Kurt, have a little faith in yourself!” Kitty cut back in.

“You’re a damn nice guy, Kurt, an’ I don’t care what ya’ve heard anyone else say; you’re a handsome man, too,” Rouge snapped at him.

Kurt shifted uncomfortably. “I- I don’t think-”

“Kurt,” Kitty warned.

“But if-”

“I’m going to set you up with one of my friends,” Kitty decided.

Go on dates with a woman that wasn’t Angeline? How awful… “Kitty, please don’t make these decisions on your own-” Kurt pleaded.

“Kurt, it’s just ta practice. It don’t have ta mean anything. As long as she knows, too, no one gets hurt,” Rouge told him.

Kurt shifted again, looking away. “Nein…”

“Well, ooooooookay… But if you change your mind, let me know…” Kitty told him.

.

After the party had broken up, Angeline slowly walked to Kurt’s door. She held his jacket close around her, nuzzling against it to take in the smell. She hesitated outside his door for a moment longer before knocking.

There was no answer, and she knocked again after a moment. Angeline’s hand hesitated midway to the door to knock again. He wasn’t there, it seemed. She had no idea where he was, but, maybe while he was out-

She shook her head to rid herself of the thought; it would be childish to sneak into his room and look around, even if it would be a good way to try to understand and get to know him better. She really wanted to, had thought about it for a while, actually…

Angeline shook her head a little more forcefully and pulled Kurt’s jacket from her shoulders, her wings shuffling a little to adjust to not being covered. She wanted to keep it, sleep with it and keep his smell close to her…

She winced and looked away, a troubled gnawing feeling digging at her stomach; was that thought like one of those that the men who made her feel disgusting had? That they wanted to smell her and-

A shiver ran down her spine and she quickly hung Kurt’s jacket on his door knob, hurrying away before she could think any more about it.

Kurt stood outside of Angeline’s door, reminding himself that he had a reason to be there; he just wanted to talk to her, but had the excuse of getting his jacket…

He knocked on the door, but no answer came. He listened at the door, thinking maybe he would hear her changing or something that would be stopping her from answering, telling him he just needed to wait a bit, but there was no noise inside.

Kurt sighed and leaned his head against the door. He wanted to talk to his beautiful angel- more than the short, five words or less sentences he was able to string together when she was around. He felt stupid that he was around beautiful women nearly all day, every day, and could talk to them just fine, but couldn’t manage to say more than half a sentence to the woman he was sure was the love of his life.

She was probably out with a man who was able to talk to her…

Kurt straightened and looked at the door again.

Maybe he should get a little practice…

He’d at least build some confidence about how to talk to her, and if he was to woo her, which he desperately wanted to do, he was going to have to talk to her.

It wouldn’t really be like he was cheating on her, just like studying beforehand wasn’t cheating on a test…

He would become experienced for her, so that he could talk to her and show her that he deserved her. And, if Kitty and Rouge were right, about the other thing…

Kurt blushed at the thought.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it -a whole lot, or at least, he hoped not enough to be a creep- but, he didn't want to embarrass himself either, if she was experienced and expected a certain level of knowledge…

Kurt sighed and bumped his head against her door again before teleporting away.

The things he would do for his love...

…    …   …    

Kurt looked down the hallway, watching the others pass as he waited for Logan to catch up to him.

“Logan,” he greeted as he walked with him.

“Elf,” Logan greeted.

“Logan, do you want to go out for a drink tonight?” He asked.

Logan shrugged. “Wouldn’t say no if you’re buying.”

Kurt laughed and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Of course, Mein Freund.”

.

Logan sat at the table with two pitchers of beer, then filled his glass. “So, I assume you want to talk about something?”

Kurt gave a strained smile through his hologram. “You know me too well, my friend.”

Logan shrugged, drinking as he waited for Kurt to speak.

“The- the new girl… Angeline-” he cut off as he felt that he wasn’t deserving to speak her name.

“She ain’t new. Been here for ‘bout a year,” Logan corrected.

“Well, regardless…” Kurt took a long drink from his mug. “I know that you went with the Professor to pick her up, and that you spend a bit of time with her-” He stopped talking, feeling the heat fill his face.

“Yeah?” Logan asked, draining another glass of beer.

“Well, do you know much about her?” Kurt asked.

“Not really,” Logan answered.

“But, you talk to her-”

“Nah, not really. Training isn’t talking. You train with her, too,” Logan told him.

Kurt gripped his mug tighter. “I know that you know more than what people tell you, Logan,” he told him a little uncomfortably. Logan didn’t comment. “What do you know about her?”

Logan poured the last half a glass of beer from the pitcher and drained it before setting the glass on the table with a thunk. “Maybe you should go talk to her and find out about her yourself.”

“I-I can’t, Logan-” Kurt stuttered.

A waitress stopped by their table and picked up the empty pitcher, giving Kurt a smile. “Let me take that for you boys.”

Kurt automatically smiled back. “Danke, Leibchen.”

She giggled. “Oh, cute, and a sexy voice…”

Kurt’s grin grew a little more flirtatious. “Why, thank you. Your voice is not hard on the ears, either.”

“See, just say that to her,” Logan told him.

Kurt looked at Logan as though he was crazy. “I can’t just say that to her- she’s a beautiful- delicate-”

The waitress gave a bit of a dramatic pout. “Oh, of course you already have a girlfriend…”

Kurt looked back to her, his voice hesitating at the tip of his tongue. Angeline wasn’t his girlfriend, but- he really wanted her to be…

The waitress turned and left, taking his silence as agreement, and Kurt turned back to Logan.

“Why you flirting with waitresses when you’re thinking about her, huh?” Logan asked.

“I-I’m practicing…” Kurt told him as his face heated up.

“Sounds like you got the hang of it. Should go try it on her,” Logan told him as he took another drink.

“Logan- I- what if she hates me?” Kurt asked.

Logan let out a grunt of annoyance. “What if she wants you to come talk to her? She’s been throwing herself at you the whole time she’s been here.”

Kurt’s face burned and he shook his head. “Some- such a delicate-” Logan gave him a look and Kurt swallowed, getting his words in line. “She is so innocent, I doubt she even realizes that it seems that way. She is so sweet- I have never heard an unfavorable word leave her mouth…”

“I have,” Logan told him. “She’s not as soft and tender as you think, Elf. Ya need to go talk to her.” Kurt sputtered for a moment as he denied his ability, but Logan interrupted him. “Ya need to.”

“I can’t, Logan!” Kurt told him, his voice a little desperate.

…    …    …    

Angeline walked toward the door out of the danger room, her eyes on Kurt as he walked out alone.

She wanted to talk to him, but even now, after all this time and all of her attempts, she couldn't manage to speak to him. She wanted to, but every time she tried, she ended up catching herself before she stuttered, but was unable to talk about anything except what they had in common; missions and the team.

Logan’s pace matched hers, and she looked over at him, then away, her cheeks reddening as she wondered if he could tell what she'd been thinking.

“Should talk to him.”

Angeline raised a brow in question as she looked at him. “What?”

“Gotta go after what ya want sometimes. Sometimes what ya want is too nervous to come to you. Even if it wants to.”

“I don't know what you mean,” she told him a little stiffly.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I choose not to know what you mean,” she told him.

“*Go talk to him. Make the first move,*” Logan told her in French.

Angeline looked away. “*I… I don't know how…*” She admitted as she blushed.

Logan turned to her, a look of confused disbelief on his face. “You telling me that you can talk to anyone but him? I seen ya talk to him.”

Angeline's face grew darker. “But not as- trying to-"

Logan shook his head slightly. “He's a man. All ya gotta do is use your assets-"

“Because I haven't been doing that enough for a year,” she mumbled as she rolled her eyes at him.

“-and talk to him,” he continued a little forcefully to show what part was his point.

“*And say what, pray tell?*” Angeline asked sarcastically. “*Your skin is the color of the night sky, just before dawn, and I'd like to see the sky that shade with you?*”

Logan's lip curled in distaste at the sentiment. “All ya gotta do is walk up to him, tell him ya like him, and ask him to, what is it kids go out for these days, pizza? Ask him to go out to pizza with ya.” Angeline shook her head, rejecting his idea. “Listen, shorty, it's the modern world, women ask men out all the time. Just walk up to him and make the first move,” he told her as he pulled a cigar out of his suit and stuck it in his mouth as he headed to the door.

Angeline gave a look after him near a glare. “*Shorty,*” she huffed. She was only two inches shorter than him… 

Though at this height, it was rare to find people who were shorter than you that were over the age of twelve.

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[the-art-of-suffering]

Forest Fire chpt 1

It was a beautiful, sunny sort of day and Flash had managed to pull Shadow out from the confines of his apartment. He knew the solitude and blatant martyr could not be in anyway positive for the man, despite how certain Shadow was that his actions were for the best. He couldn't kill anyone if there was no one to kill, right? At least, that's what Shadow always said. As much as he feared having another episode and slaughtering someone, or worse; Flash, it was harder to deny the poor boy a day out. The two looked and acted like complete opposites. While Shadow wore dark leather and denim and boots, Flash wore pastels; a bunny sweater and some pale blue jeans, along with some flowery vans. Flash had bright blue eyes, fluffy honey-gold hair, and his skin was covered in freckles. He was no more than 5'4. Shadow, about 6'3, looked like a disheveled Disney villain, unshaven and unkempt. His hair was deep black and tangled, and didn't appear to have had a cut in quite some time. His eyes were an emerald green, his pupils thinned slits like a snake might have. There was an eternal shade around his eyes, like he was missing about 28 years of sleep. How edgy. Shadow walked with his hands in his pockets, two dog-tags jingling against his chest ever so faintly with each step. Flash walked with a bit of a skip in his step, clearly overjoyed he'd gotten the older male to give in and get out. As the bookstore came into view, Flash gasped, bouncing excitedly. He tugged on Shadow’s sleeve, pointing to the shop "Books! That's perfect, you like books, right?" Flash had an Australian accent, though it was faint, maybe it was worn down or maybe he was simply hiding it a bit. Shadows lips pursed, one brow furrowing. "I.. guess so.. Yeah." This was all the affirmation Flash needed. The Aussie tugged on his friend's sleeve once more, basically pulling him off into the bookshop with that.

The bookshop was old, and felt ancient. The smell of old books and patchouli permeated the place. Walking in sent a soft bundle of bells tinkling, and from around a corner a very, very fair skinned boy peaked out, soft, velvety mouse ears twitching nervously from between strands of his snowy white hair. Hair that was woven together elaborately; a large, thick braid, accented with smaller braided bunches woven in. And flowers. Small daisies and dandelions were scattered throughout. He wore a heather grey sweater that read 'BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS' down the front that was a size or two too big and hung off his shoulders and hid the entirety of his hands. From behind slim, thin spectacles, ruby eyes sparkled as he shyly approached, a thin, nervous little mouse tail twitches curiously behind him as he took in the couple that had entered. "Welcome to Gunderschein Books, how can I he-" He was cut off by his own clumsiness; he stumbled a bit but did not fall. His skinny little legs poked out the bottom of the sweater, adorn with floral tights and ended with second hand combat boots that didn’t seem to have a proclivity for staying tied. He straightened his glasses and shyly looked between the two guests. "So sorry, as I was saying, how may we help you? Are you browsing or needing refurbishing?" His smile was genuine and easy as he regarded both the brooding man that towered over him, and the pastel fairy that was only a few inches above him with a saccharine smile. While most of the reaction came from Flash, Shadows brows lifted as the boy nearly tripped right before them. Though as he came over, Flash gasped, eyes widening. His hands reached out, as though he could hardly believe it "Oh my goodness!! Your hair is so beautiful!" He motioned down at his tights "And those are so cute!!" He seemed awestruck someone so fea-like could exist. Shadow, while cracking a hint of a smile at Flash's joy, was much more interested in his ears. That was unique. While his curiosity piqued, he had no plans on commenting yet. Flash was far too excited about his outfit and his hair to even process Nim's questions.

Nim's eyes seemed to just sparkle in delight as he wiggled forward a few inches, his hands flapping a bit at his sides as he leaned back taking in the pastel glory before him. It may have been unprofessional, but how could he keep a straight face, faced with the most adorable person he had ever had grace his bookstore. "Oh my gosh but your bunny! It's the cutest thing in the entire world! When I was a kid I all I ever wanted was to have a pet rabbit! The Velveteen Rabbit was my very most favorite story ever and I cried when I didn't get one" Flash gasped again, looking down at his sweater. He tugged on the edges, holding them out as if to get a better look at the rabbit patch. "Oh!! I have bunnies at home!" He looked back at Nim, beaming "You can see mine, they're very sweet!" He nodded surely, as if to promise this. Shadow looked between the two, arms crossing. Admittedly, he was amused. This was.. undeniably cute, as sickeningly sweet as it was. Briefly Nim seemed excited but, it seemed to deflate for a moment, and when it returned it was a bit more controlled. "I bet they are darling little things, but, I'm being rude. You two came in to shop and I've completely blocked your way. " He shifted in place, turning half away and making a sweeping arch with a hand as if to motion to the whole of the shop. "To the left is our non fiction and reference section, straight back is fiction, and to the right is the clearance area as well as magazines, children's books, and miscellany. If you let me know what you are looking for I can check our logs to see if we have a copy?" He turned back, alert, his ears at their ultimate perkiness, as he looked between the two men. Flash blinked, shaking his head "Oh no, you aren't being rude at all!" He assured quickly. After looking around the shop, he turned his attention back to Shadow, rocking up on his toes slightly "What kinda books do you want?" He asked, head tipping. Shadow rubbed his neck, looking around as well. There likely wasn't anything here he couldn't just find online somewhere. He wasn't opposed to reading, by any means, it was just.. he didn't have anything in particular in mind. "Mm.. I don't know, uh.." he looked around once more, not wanting to disappoint Flash with such a lame answer. He looked to Nim, nodding just once "What do you recommend?" While his question wasn't one out of politeness to Nim, it was to Flash. Who, looked to Nim hopefully.

A twinkle flashed in Nim's eyes as he took a few dance-like steps backwards. "Well now, that depends a lot on what is important to you." Letting his gaze shift from Flash to Shadow, he tilted his head upward to attempt eye contact. "You see, books can be very intimate things. They are little stories that speak just to you. They can be friends or lovers, or they can take you far far away from the people who hurt you, or the bad things you have to deal with. So, let's pretend you're on like, a dating show, and tell me a little bit about yourself and I can play match maker for you and your perfect book. Or books. We know it can be hard to settle on just one sometimes. " He gave a little wink and laughter like the chiming of a thousand tiny bells spilled out of him, soft and sparkling. It was his favorite thing to do, after all. Find people books that they can escape into. He knew all too well how much a book can keep you safe. He knew that, if you read enough fairy tales, eventually they come true... Don't they? Flash sucked in a breath, cheeks puffing out in excitement. This was like some really cool game. He thought real hard, rocking on his heels. He hadn't planned on getting books but he couldn't say no now! "Mm.." he tapped his chin, "I think.. I like fantasy! Maybe a romance, but nothing scary. Something sweet. With a happy ending! And.. and some animals!" Shadow chuckled to himself at this; how fitting.. He decided to wait and allow Flash to get any stories he may want. After all, he really had no idea what to say for himself. While Flash at least had in mind what kind of book he wanted, Shadow was clueless as to both the book, and whatever Nim may want him to share about himself. Nothing that came to mind sounded.. as endearing as it did with Flash. Flashed like animals, he liked sunny days, he liked overly fluffy stuffed toys, he liked Owl City. Shadow liked.. well.. it almost felt as though he couldn't remember. It had been so long since he had felt such pure joy as Flash. Perhaps that was what was so refreshing about hanging around the boy. Feeling such innocent happiness vicariously through him.

Nim's tail curled into a little spiral shape as he made a tiny squeaking noise, excitedly listening to Flash's requirements. As Flash finished Nim gave a very soft hum, thoughtfully looking at the ceiling. "Well, follow me over to the fiction section, where all the best romance stories sleep. Off the top of my head..." He turned and began tip toeing over towards the well-marked fiction section, but he continued to speak over his shoulder. "I would recommend anything by Peter Beagle. He is most well-known for The Last Unicorn novel, which has a pair of beautiful love stories within the narrative, and lots of animals. I would also recommend any number of short story collections by Gaimen, he writes amazing animal companions. Anything by Mercedes Lackey might work too." He stopped next to a tall shelf, and almost to himself, began speaking again, but a little distractedly. "Oh. Oscar Wilde is amazing. And definitely try Diana Wynne Jones..." he starts plucking various books off the shelf. "Oh, how do you feel about pining, and slow burn romance?" Flash nodded along, agreeing with all the picks, though admittedly didn't know all of them. "Hmm... I've never read one like that!" He gave a sheepish giggle "I-I haven't really read a lot of books lately..!" Shadow took the few moments to wander over to the romance section, one that may have been slightly unfitting for him, by the looks. Though he recognized so many of the stories. Admittedly, he absolutely adored these stories as a kid. Such an unrealistic concept, something so far and foreign, something absolutely poetic and dreamy. A fantasy. He never had the best childhood. Looking back, the concept was equally unrealistic now. Perhaps he was never fit for love. He should have kept that idea as a fantasy, never anything more. Nim had pulled out a few more books, almost too many to handle. He struggled to look over at Flash behind the wobbling tower of them. "Honestly, those are my faves. Like beauty and the beast, you know? It's that slow build, two people discovering each other, learning to love each other's flaws. Learning that... there is someone for everyone, you know? and that in the end, everyone lives happily ever after. Or like, you know, in Tangled, or Sleeping Beauty... love is just, stronger than all that stuff. So. I'd definitely recommend the Lackey books, or Goodkind. Those are some long, slow, wonderful romances." He paused for a moment, realized he had sorta... grabbed a lot... "You know, we also rent books out, if you wanna try some before you commit to buying."

Shadow looked over to them, head tipping to one side. That was.. quite a lot of books. "We'll get 'em." He said simply, walking over. Flash blinked, looking from the pile of books, then to Shadow "O-oh that's far too many! Plus! We're here to get you books, not me!" He giggled sheepishly, shaking his head "I almost forgot.." Shadow just shrugged at this, taking the tower of books from Nim. He did so carefully, momentarily catching his ruby gaze as he did. His own eyes were unique, if not the most intimidating part about him. He smelled strongly of smoke and evergreens, a scent that was distinct enough to catch when he took the stack. Nim shivered just a bit under his massive sweater. So much was he caught off guard by the larger man that he was lost in wonder of him for nearly a minute as Flash debated against himself. He felt... predatory. Something that both intrigued and scared Nim. It was more than Nim wanted to admit, but his curiosity was piqued. Probably too piqued. Shadow stepped back, books in his arms, "Pick out ten, then, Flash." Flash pursed his lips in thought, feeling rather guilty he'd gotten so selfishly carried away. He lifted up a finger, "How about five for you, five for me!" There was a pause, the boy tapping his chin "Mm.. six for you..? No no, eight for you, two for me!" Flash decided surely, while Shadow just rolled his eyes. After a few moments of soft contemplation, watching the tall dark and handso-err. Tall fellow, Nim remembered what he was supposed to be doing, so he turned his attention back to Flash. "Well, what if both of you enjoy some of the same books, so some were shared? Also, if its money th-thats the problem I might be able t-to help." His stutter hadn't bothered him in a couple of years now, but it had also been a while he supposed that he had felt that instinctive tug telling him that he was too close to something dangerous. He swallowed it down, let it swim in his belly where it belonged. "I could u-use my employee discount f-for you. Save you fifteen percent."

"Money's not an issue." Shadow dismissed, eying some of the books in the stack "I'm paying.." Flash beamed at Nim, "Well still take the discount, if it's not too much trouble!" He looked back to Shadow, "Would you want to share the books? Or do you not like them?" He didn't seem offended in the slightest, just curious. Shadow shrugged in reply, looking to his friend, "Sharing is fine." There came a bouncing nod from Nim and a soft "Of course" to the mention of the discount as he turned once more to the bookcase. "T-there is one more book I'd like to suggest, especially if you two are going to be sharing. It's got love, and animals and it's a series, but I figure I can let you try the first. It's uh its..." He turned from the bookcase just as awkwardly as he had turned to face it, took a couple steps away, and then promptly returned with a small step ladder, climbed up the little thing, and successfully retrieved the desired book. "It has some sad parts in it, and has a lot of tension but it's one of my favorites. It's about a wolf who falls in love with a stag, but obviously she can't be with him because she feels like she is just a monster in his eyes. It's sort of like, Romeo and Juliet, but not? It's really good. Really uhm, sappy I guess?" He laughed a little, descending down the wee step ladder and held the book out towards Flash. "Here's book One. The Law of Teeth." Shadows faint little smile slowly vanished as Nim went on about the story. While he hadn't been particularly cheerful, his light attitude seemed to shift into one of.. simple silences. He was hard to read as his gaze shifted to Flash. The Aussie took the book, nodding. He peered at the cover curiously "Ooh.." he cooed "That sounds really interesting!" He grinned at Nim "Thank you so much!! You've been so helpful!" With another nod, Nim began wandering back towards the front of the shop, adjusting his glasses as he went, but stopping quite suddenly before making it the full journey. "Oh. All I showed you were the romance heavy books. I didn't show you anything else. What about you, Sir?" He turned his eyes up towards Shadow, a genuine eagerness to please filling his expression. "I got so carried away we didn't even hear what kinds of books you were looking for. I'm very sorry." Perhaps he subconsciously picked up on the shift in Shadow's demeanor, or perhaps he just really really wanted to please everyone who came into the shop. Whatever the reason, he felt as though his job just was not done here yet.

Shadow watched him for a few moments before shaking his head. He nodded down at the stack in his arms "This is fine." He said, though still his gaze never pulled away from Nim's crimson eyes. It was, on one hand, perhaps flattering that someone who seemed to indifferent could focus so much attention onto one person so easily. Though it was almost unsettling, in the same sense. Nothing about him revealed any blatant intent or emotions. There it was again. That tiny little voice that squeaked out 'Scurry! Hide!' that insisted to Nim that this man was sharp, and cold, and tempered. This man was teeth made of steel and he could probably smell your fear. And Nim was afraid. Just a hair's breadth. Perhaps his head was filled up with too many fairy tales and too much nonsense, but that twitch of fear, that flutter of butterflies in his belly... It sparked something very close to a wee little crush in his weak little heart. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel a bit infatuated with a customer, though. He was a foolish thing and wore his heart so far out on his sleeve it was practically in his hand, held out as an offering for anyone to take. All the same, with a vivid stream of a blush rising up his cheeks and into his ears, he gave a silent nod and sharply turned back towards the counter, took two stiff steps, tripped and stumbled the remaining few feet, grabbing onto the counter's edge to regain balance. The redness worsening he began to aggressively type things into the computer, presumably ringing up the total or putting in the discount code. He actively avoided eye contact.

Shadows eyes narrowed, keeping on Nim. He was intelligent but often oblivious to social cues that may be related to him. Usually, he'd miss one or two and take something the wrong way, and that was.. never good. Flash had used his innocent sort of charm to get Shadow out of many fights, though many, many more had not been avoided. But he found little annoyance in Nim. He had half expected him to be the quiet type to be unable to get more than three words out, or hold eye contact for a solid two seconds. But, this was not the case. At least, it hadn't been. Flash trotted over to the counter, standing on his toes again "My hair isn't as long as yours but you should teach me how to put flowers in it like yours!" He said, his sky-blue eyes practically twinkling "It's so pretty!!" Shadow slowly walked over to the counter as well, mostly just to stay with Flash. Each slow, strong step of his boots made a distinct, purposeful sound. He stood a pace or two behind his friend, watching down at Nim still, as though silently trying to figure something out.

Now, as the red seemed to be somewhat subsiding, into a more subdued rose, Nim softly answered Flash, though his voice was shaky. Was he... Was he about to cry? It was difficult to say, behind the spectacles and his head kept low, but there was definitely a shudder to his shoulders and a quiver to his words. "Oh, that. It's not hard. I actually get twisty ties, like.. y-you know. Around b-bread. Since your hair is shorter, I c-could do it for you if y-y-you wanted." He began scribbling down a hand-written receipt. "Your total will be $47.50 after the discount." He shot a nervous little glance up at Shadow, who he presumed would have the money, but quickly looked back to Flash, and forced a tiny little smile, for professionalism. Flash bounced, gasping "Would you really?" He asked, eyes wide with hope. Shadow shifted the books into one arm, letting them rest against his chest to ensure they wouldn't topple over. He pulled out his wallet with one hand, flipping it open. He skimmed the cash for a minute before pulling out a $50. He stowed his wallet and slid the fifty across the counter, looking to Nim "I don't want change." Maybe this was a tip, maybe he literally didn't want to deal with the change. Who would say? As Nim took the fifty and placed it in the cash box he stuttered out a squeaky little 'thank you' once more unable to really lift his gaze to the looming giant. He snapped himself out of his thoughts and gave a warm but slightly awkward smile to Flash. "Oh gosh, of course, I would love to. I have a little flower garden on the roof but I sometimes buy cut flowers from the florist down the street. Her flowers are always beautiful and freshly cut, so they last forever. I hope this doesn't sound too forward but I can maybe give you my number and you can text me whenever you and your uhm... " A glance towards Shadow was followed by a very small pause, as if his mind was trying to decide how bold to be. Not very it turns out. "..friend... are going to be nearby and I can pick some flowers up for you. It would be no trouble at all I promise." Flash looked to Shadow, absolutely overjoyed. What a new, wonderful friend they'd found. Shadow lifted a brow at his friend's excitement, but, once again offered him the faintest hint of an amused smile. Flash's joy was not uncommon but it was pure. The boy turned back to Nim, pulling out his phone. The case, of course, had a sweetly illustrated cat and rabbit. He brought up a new contact, holding it out to Nim, "Just go ahead and add your stuff!" He chirped, nodding surely. Shadow watched the two, remaining silent. Though he couldn't help but wonder. When they were going to be nearby..? For a moment he considered perhaps going out more. That was a foolish thought though, wasn't it? Such desperation, inspiration spurred by no more than a few minutes of conversation. On one hand it was stupid to consider seeing the light more just for the possibility of a friend. On the other, that was exactly what Flash and Jinx were both desperate to get him to do. But this boy seemed to be getting along quite well with Flash. The friendship was there, no more. It was as simple as that, as it should be. Before Nim could take the phone, he had to pull his sleeves up; they had fallen over his hands again. He was beyond gentle with the device as he gingerly tapped in his cell number. "Uhm, I'm free most any day after six. When my shift ends. You can also text me any flowers you like, and I'll try to get them? I can get flowers your friend likes too, and put them in his hair as well, if he likes." He offered the phone back to Flash, clearing his throat softly as he leaned in, whispering, "Please just text though. I can't talk on the phone, especially after dark." He seemed to be very serious about that last part, not mentioning it in a passing manner, but in an intensly solemn and almost, nervous way that had him making shy glances at the ceiling.

Flash tilted his head, but nodded. "Okay.. I'll remember that." He paused, jumping slightly "O-oh! I'm so sorry- what about your name? What do you want your contact to be?" He asked, quickly adding on as he gestured to his friend who still held the stack of books, as silent and ominous as always "I'm Flash and this is Shadow-" he paused, quickly correcting himself "E-er.. Valentine!" He nodded at this. Shadow just looked over at him with partially raised brows, giving him a sort of 'well, you tried' look. Shadow was more of an acquired nickname that had stuck for a surprisingly long time. Valentine was a bit more.. professional. Nim liked watching them together. He really liked Flash. He felt like, maybe if things were different, and he wasn't so trapped... maybe they could be friends. Maybe he could meet Flash's rabbits. He liked sha-valentine as well, even if he was a bit afraid of him. A subtle, sad little frown tugged at his lips as he wondered how long it would be until he actually saw them again. If he ever would. "Flash, and... Valentine. I'll remember that. You can just put me down as Nim, my birth name is way too long and ridiculous. " He seemed a bit antsy, momentarily chewing at a nail before adding. "How uhm, how far away do you guys live? Is it a long way away?"

Shadow was of course listening in on this conversation. He made a mental note to get the boy's number from Flash- but immediately scolded himself. No, this was stupid. This was none of his business, nor should it have been. But when it came down to it, was he really just scolding himself for potentially caring? Being concerned? Probably. For him, it was unwise. His luck had been unreasonably poor. He was fortunate he still had his sister and Flash. "Not too far!" Flash piped up, nodding "Shadow lives in an apartment that's-" he paused again, lips pursing as yet again he quickly corrected himself, seeming determined "Valentine lives in an apartment that's a bit from here kinda on the edge of town, and I'm actually in another one." While Flash still had hopes that Shadow would move into his apartment, at least the building, it was no use. Shadows apartment was nearly abandoned, inhabited by him and a... friend.. of his. The apartment held too many memories and Shadow had no intention of leaving it anytime soon. While it may have been better for his mental health to start anew and leave the past behind, he was holding onto fragments that would be lost. He was.. desperate. It seemed to bring a little bit of light back into Nim's eyes, hearing that these wonderful people weren't too far off. Maybe they would come and visit. It certainly would be nice. "Oh, that's so wonderful, I was afraid the trip here was a long one and I didn't want to make you guys come all the w-" Overhead on the next floor, something crashes, rattling the ceiling. Dust and bits of plaster flake off and drift down in cloudy puffs. The disturbance garnered a sharp recoil from Nim. He flinched, gave a small whimper and raised his gaze warily upward. "Oh, Oh no I uhm. I gotta...Excuse me. " He side stepped from behind the counter and started walking towards the front door. Before he could even make it ten steps, angry, muffled shouting echoed from the second floor, followed by what sounded like shattering glass. He hesitated to continue on, shoulders pulled up tight as he glanced back in the direction of the pair. "I'm so sorry, I know this is rude of me, but this will probably take... A while. I'd love to chat more but, I don't want to keep you waiting and...yeah. I'm.. I'm sososorry. " Flash's shoulders fell, brows knitting in concern. But he didn't want to press. He quickly offered a smile once more "Ill text you! And well visit again real soon, promise! It was really nice meeting you Nim!" He glanced to Shadow, who seemed quite interested in the racket. He pulled his gaze from the ceiling, to Nim, watching him intently. Though, it was time to go, it seemed. He gave him a single nod, before starting to the door. Flash waved to Nim, trotting out with Shadow to go out the books away in the car. Shadow, though, had a slightly different game plan. He'd help Flash with the books, sure, but then? Then he was coming back. Because why not? This smelled like trouble. And boy, was he well-acquainted with that. Though there was something.. too familiar about that. A haunch he didn't like. Shadow was no vigilante, and he was a murderer at best. But, there were some things that even he would not tolerate. Ever.

Nim had actually scurried out behind the couple. It seemed that in order to get to the second floor, the only access was an outdoor ladder on the side of the building. Which of course he scurried up in as much of a hurry as he could, disappearing into the darkness of the upstairs. From just down the road a bit of gossip had picked up as another crash resonated from the building. An older couple, probably in their fifties stood in the doorway of their own homey little shop. The wife clicked her tongue and shook her head, "Morris is at it again, Herald, should we call the police again?" The husband just made a low groaning sound and turned to retreat into their shop, calling over his shoulder. "Won't help with that kid lying for him, you know that." There was a tense, electric silence as the wife clicked her tongue again and seemed to give up the ghost of hope and turned as well, closing the door behind her. As far as the place where Nim had vanished into, there was no sound, just a door hanging open, and the darkness within.

Shadow was intent on picking up every word, while Flash preferred a more hopeful sort of blissful ignorance. He opened the door to his car and let Shadow put the books in, before looking to his friend. Shadow was watching the open door, head tipped. Flash bit his lip, brows furrowed "Shadow.." he said softly, "Lets go.." While he didn't really know what may be going on in there, he knew Shadow likely had a clearer idea, and was not above causing a scene. He didn't want that.. he didn't want any trouble.. Shadow watched the darkness for another moment longer before waving a hand, "Go on and go home, Flash. I'll be good." That was a blatant lie. He would try perhaps, but trying was often forgotten if he decided the matter was important enough to.. act upon. Flash whined, shaking his head, "Shadow, please, just.." Shadow looked back at him, "Ill catch up with you soon. It'll be okay. Go home, go through your books.. text your new friend." Flash pursed his lips, brows knit. He knew trying to changing the man's mind was futile.. Letting out a defeated breath, he nodded, adding a soft "Please be careful.." before he got into the car, reluctantly starting off. Shadow didn't act just yet, but he waited. He leaned back against one of the walls, arms crossed. He wasn't about to just barge in without cause. He wasn't above jumping to conclusions, though often he wasn't exactly mistaken with them. He'd seen a lot of shit.

There came a series of soft, but sharp commands from the room, and something about an 'embarrassment'. From within tiny snow white arms gingerly reached out and pulled the door closed. The voice that rumbled in the darkness was rough and a growling baritone. If Nim was even bothering to respond it couldn't be heard from outside. But the baritone only grew steadily louder until there was the sound of another shattered glass. And then a sharp, bright yelp that was not the overbearing roar of the unseen individual. It was short, like the sound of a kicked dog, it was mostly air and surprise with just the bits of voice that were spooked out of the throat. Shadows nails dug into the biceps of his leather jacket. Yeah, that sounded about right. Too damn familiar. And it took every single inch of self control not to climb that ladder and.. well. Hopefully, he'd keep that self control. Though it was fading, fast. He just needed a reason and he'd be all over it. It was none of his business. ... ... But that wasn't good enough. No, that wouldn't cut it. Fuck self control. He never had much anyways. Shadow stepped away from the wall and went up the ladder, giving three sharp knocks to the door. It didn't matter how well he knew this boy. This was not gonna slide. The noise from within ceased immediately with the delivered knocks. There was shuffling, whispers and it seemed like for just an instant something had fallen against the door before it was slowly cracked open barely a couple of inches. A bright ruby eyes peeked out, and as he saw it was Shadow, he stuttered out a bit of gibberish before his words worked again. "S-sir? Uhm I can be back down to the shop t-to assist you in a m-moment. I'm S-sorry." His hair was sloppy across his face as he gave a glance behind him and started to pull the door closed again. As he shifted his mouth, in its long thin line, came into view, blossomed red and violent, and dripped just the daintiest ribbon of crimson.

Shadow pressed his hand against the door, catching it before it could be shut. He pushed it open, reaching his other arm in. He hooked it around Nims side and pulled him out, shutting the door as he did. He held the knob tight, looking down at Nim as he lifted up his chin with his free hand. "Let me see you.." he murmured, scanning him over to place just how bad his injuries were. His skin was so milky, so pale that everything looked violent and raw. The bruises blossomed up so burgundy and so black. His shoulder looked squeezed by large fingers, his split lip was swollen, and plump, and may have been attractive on him if it had been given a different way. His sweater covered the rest of him, so if any other damage was done it wouldn't be seen. Nim was desperately trying to push against Shadow, futile efforts to force him away from the door. "It's not what it looks like, I'm fine. It was an accident, you should go now, please. Valentine, please you need to go." From inside the baritone called out a name presumed to be Nim's actual name. "Nimatia I told you to shut that door, you insolent whelp!" The words were slurred and clumsy and drunken, and they made Nim push against Shadow all the harder, holding back a choked sob, and another desperate 'please'. Shadow didn't budge, not an inch. He still gripped the knob as he watched down at Nim. He put his other hand against his shoulder, nodding once at the latter "Go down." He said, though if anything it was more of a command. A 'do it, or I'll make you'.

It seemed like for a moment, Nim was going to resist, like he still had all the fight in him to rebel against Shadow's words. Something in the tone of voice however, changed his mind and while he complied and started inches down the steps, he whimpered out the tiniest of pleas, just a single string of words. "It's not his fault, please." From inside the darkened building, there was the shuffling of clutter and the drawing of movement ever closer as the voice called out for Nim again. Shadow watched Nim begin to inch down. On one hand, he wanted to go with him and just get him away from all of this, at least for a bit. But on the other, he wasn't about to just walk away. He waited another moment, ensuring Nim would continue down.. He'd follow after him in a minute, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. Perhaps it was selfish to step in, maybe he was just itching for a fight. Then again, he was sick of seeing shit like this. It seemed to follow him, and he had lost his patience. So without another moment of hesitation, he went inside.

[irishavengersassemble]

Does Your Mother Know

  While listening to Abba’s Does Your Mother Know. I started thinking this would be a good song for Dinozzo. Hence this was born. 

Gibbs x Sister Reader

Tony x Reader 

Gifs arent mine. 

“Hello Timothy.” “Have you seen Jethro?”

 You purred peaking down at the young agent from beneath your sunglasses.

Originally posted by playbill

 “I haven’t Y/N.” “I’m sorry.” The man replied politely as you scanned the familiar landscape of the bullpen where your younger brother Leroy Jethro Gibbs worked as a Special Agent for the NCIS.

 “Gibbs is downstairs with Ducky.” Ellie replied from her place at her desk.

 “Thank You Bishop you’re a doll.”

 You replied flashing her a small smile as you headed towards the elevator the soft click-clack of your heels hitting the floor as you did so.

 A soft sigh hit your lips as you entered pressing the button thankful to have some peace and quiet after the hectic day you’d had at your publishing company.

  Jethro your younger brother by two years had joined the Marines like your father. You’d joined the Peace Corps before moving to New York City. 

Within the first two decades of living in the Big Apple, the name Y/N Gibbs had soon become a common name throughout the world. 

You started by making your way working with some of the greatest writers of your time.

 By the time you’d reached your mid-thirties, you’d already written seven best-selling series.

 People loved your work and most were devastated when close to ten years ago now.

 It had been evident it was time to put up the pen for a while and work on helping other future voices in the writing world.

 After decades of blood sweat and tears, Shannon Kelly Publications was born.

 The company was set right off of Times Square and it had been your baby from the beginning.

 Owning one of the largest publishing companies throughout the world did have its perks but it didn’t really do much for your love life.

 Of course at your age, you doubted you’d ever find one at this point. You’d never been married focusing on your steady career than a man or a family for that matter. It used to bother you but now it was part of your life.

 It didn’t have to do with the fact that you weren’t a beautiful woman for your age because you’d aged very well.

 Standing at about 5’4 you had your mother’s warm brown eyes and a small thin nose followed by a head of well-earned lovely hair the color of snow. 

Being a Gibbs you had your little brother's stern can-do attitude not to mention his stubbornness. Without it, you doubted you’d ever have gotten where you currently are today.

 The doors opened as you strode towards autopsy.

  “Jethro.”

 “Y/N?”

 “What the hell are you doing here?” The silver-haired man questioned his usually stern face lighting up into a grin.

Originally posted by lucifersagents

  “What is it a crime now to surprise your baby brother from time to time?”

  A soft smile lifted your lips as the man pulled you into a firm hug.

 “I just wasn’t expecting it is all I mean with my old age and all.” Jethro purred placing a kiss on your temple.

 “Are you calling me old?” You questioned eyes narrowing as you threw a hand to your hip.

 “At your age my dear you are as lovely as ever.” 

Ducky retorted making the short distance from the autopsy table you were currently leaning against and capturing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

  “Donald always the charmer.” You grinned kissing the doctor's cheek. 

“On the contrary my dear it is you who’s the charmer.” He states sending a cute smile in your direction.

  “Jimmy.”

 You retort nodding a friendly head in the young assistant’s direction.

“Miss. Gibbs.” 

“Jimmy how many times do I have to tell you.” 

“It's just Y/N.” 

A wink in the man’s direction caused him to flush with embarrassment.

  “I’ll go pick you up some coffee.” 

 “I’ll be back!”

 You sighed blowing the man a quick kiss before stalking towards the elevator once more.

 “Well... Well... Well…” What do we have here?” Tony grinned his green eyes scanning on your form as he made his way from Abby’s lab.

Originally posted by sassykbex

 “Hello Anthony.” 

You purred with a slight roll of your eyes as you both made your way into the tiny cramped elevator. The doors shut forcing you to stand there in awkward silence.

  Tony had been pining after you ever since he met you years ago. 

You figured your age would scare the younger man off, but Anthony Dinozzo was a man who knew what he wanted.

 Not only that he would fight for that said thing until he either got it or he went home with his hurt pride and tail in between his legs.

 The man’s advances throughout the years had been anything but subtle.

 That didn’t mean you weren’t a strong straight forward woman who made it clear you’d never be anything more to the boy than his boss's older sister.

 He might be sexy with his charming charisma and wicked green eyes that would make any girl think such shameful thoughts they’d be in a confession booth for years.

Originally posted by lesbiansrule-theworld

 Tony was old enough to be your son. Hell in this day and age he could probably be your grandson even.

 He was and would entirely be off-limits no matter what kind of tricks he thought he had up his sleeve. You would play dirty if it came to that, thankfully it never had.

 “So… what’s a devastatingly beautiful woman like you doing all the way out here.” “Instead of somewhere classy with silk bed sheets?” he purrs peaking down at you through thick eyelashes. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

“Your place?”

 “Because I’m pretty certain when I was there.”

 “I didn’t see any silk sheets in your bed.”

 “What was it?” 

“Oh, that’s right let me see?” 

“That’s right!” “ Star Wars sheets wasn’t it?” You confirmed sassily.

 “You can’t confirm that Sweetheart?” 

“Oh, and why can't I?”

 “Because they weren’t my sheets.”

 “ Alright whatever you say.” 

The words had barely escaped your lips when Tony leaned forward his chest brushing against yours as he hit the elevator making it stop with a soft jolt.

 The movement although small paired with your tall shoes and your age, not that you’d ever be woman enough to admit it caused you to stumble forwards into the man’s strong arms.

  “You alright there Beautiful?” 

He whispered his mouth just above your ear. His hot breath made you involuntarily shudder. 

“I’m fine.” 

The sound of your voice surprised you instead of bold and stern it came out soft and unsure.

   “Is there something you wanted Dinozzo?” You snapped peaking up at him through your eyelashes.

 “Oh, I think you know very well what I want Sugar.” He purred leaning down and letting his lips brush against the soft skin of your neck.

 “Oh Honey you and I both know that’s not going to happen.”

 As nice as it felt in his arms you knew it was wrong to even consider sleeping with a man his age especially when your brother was his boss.

 Your tiny hands traveled up his chest pushing him away from you. His eyes flashed as he gave you a look you couldn’t quite place.

 A squeak hit your lips as he suddenly had you trapped against the wall and his body. 

Both of his arms were on either side of your head as his lips lifted into a wide grin.

Originally posted by mywickedlovelyy

 “Hey Sweetheart.”

 “What the hell?” You growled making no motion to move.

 “I know.” 

“You know what?”

 You snapped irritated as he leaned down until his lips were pressed to your ear. 

“I know… you… want… it as bad as me… if not more.” He whispered pressing a kiss against the hollow of your throat making you shiver. 

 Well, I guess it’s time to play his dark games too you thought. Leaning forward you place a leg between his thighs peaking up at him with the best seductive glance you could muster.

 “Baby you might think you’d be able to take all this on… but…” You paused shoving him backwards.

  “You’re only a child.” 

Originally posted by enews

“I’m not a child.” 

“I’m young and free spirited.”

 “Oh really?” You question raising a curious eyebrow in his direction.

   “Really.” Tony purred his eyes darkening with lust.

Originally posted by justbacktothegoodolddays

 “If that's your attempt at flirting with me you’re at a pretty poor start.”

 “I can do better than that honestly.” 

“We’ll see?” You smirked leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss along the skin that was just above his collar.

 “W-oah what are you d-oin-g?” He stuttered.

 “Only showing you why this could never work.”

 The next movement caught you off guard. Tony’s large hands cupped your face gently as he brought his lips to yours.

 You melted as the kiss started soft and gentle before you both began fighting for dominance.

Originally posted by zivalovesparis

  “Wait… this… isn’t… right…” You whined as Tony began placing soft gentle kisses along your throat and exposed collarbones.

  “I don’t care.” 

“I’ve been crazy about you ever since that first time I saw you wearing that black Alexander McQueen waistcoat and pink silk scarf. “

 “You remember that?” 

You question eyes growing wide that he would remember such a vivid set of details from over a decade ago.

 “Of course Sweetheart.” “I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since.”

 “Does your mother know you’re into such old women?” 

“If she were here.” ”I doubt she’d be surprised.” He confirms pressing a kiss on your nose. 

Originally posted by justbacktothegoodolddays

“Let's get out of here.” 

You purr straightening your clothing before pressing the elevator back on.

Needless to say, Gibbs never got his coffee and he was without an agent the rest of the day.

  Your brother may or may not have almost died of a heart attack when he found you curled up in Tony’s bed wrapped securely in the younger man’s arms.

 He may have threatened to kill him after he got his breathing under control but you were too thrilled to care.

 Sometimes younger is better you realized as you stared at the beautiful young man beside you with the wicked green eyes.

Originally posted by ifyouwillsayityouwillsayitloud