#i hope this is the last toothy thing we need to do before the next Normal Teeth Checkup in October

[gailynovelry]

Tomorrow, we'll be getting a crown on one of our teeth. Crossing our fingers that it will be fine and easy and we will be chill about it.

[izurou]

every morning, and often throughout the night, you’ll stretch a foot over to satoru’s side of the bed and make contact with him.

what comes across as a simple desire for physical touch, is actually a habit of yours—one born from both fear and experience. it’d be far from the first time you woke up and he wasn’t there, but things are different now, and you need him to be there.

but this morning, all you feel is cold sheets.

you sit up and rub at your eyes before looking out the window—finding your usual view blurred with rain. you shiver a little at the sight, or maybe—at the foreign emptiness of the room.

and that’s when you realize that, not only is satoru missing from your bed—the small white crib off to your right is also missing your daughter.

you think the worst on instinct. irrational, you’re well aware—there’s no reason for such thoughts anymore, but they still manage to penetrate your freshly conscious mind nonetheless.

that is, until a pair of giggles sneak past the little crack in your bedroom door, acting as the perfect antidote to your conclusion jumping.

now, you find yourself getting out of bed just a bit too eagerly for a gloomy sunday morning—sliding into your slippers before shuffling towards the door and down the hallway. you wrap your arms around yourself as you walk, both hoping for and needing a little extra love from at least one, but preferably both of your babies.

satoru’s voice becomes clearer as you near, and you’re just around the corner when you hear him ask your daughter, who can’t talk yet, a question.

“yeah? you like the rain?”

an odd thing to ask a seven month old, though it makes a little more sense when you actually see them.

the two are in the kitchen, and your daughter—strapped into her high chair, is staring out the large window with her big blue eyes, completely mesmerized. satoru sits hunched over in a dining room chair, watching her with the exact same expression while he holds a plastic green spoon up to her mouth, like he’s interviewing her.

“satoru?” in unison, the duo turn their heads at the sound of your voice. “what are you doing?”

“killing time,” he smiles at you before turning to your baby, who now has her chubby little hands wrapped around a couple of his fingers. “we were starting to think you’d never come to. isn’t that right sweetheart?”

she babbles excitedly in response, seemingly agreeing.

the transition from bassinet to crib hasn’t been an easy one, and last night was probably one of her worst so far. you’ll always rock her, and while she falls asleep easy enough—the second she’s put down, she’ll wake up and cry.

“sorry,” you sigh, padding over to the two. “she was up most of the night, i—”

“needed the rest,” he finishes for you—wiggling his fingers around and earning himself a few more precious baby giggles. “we know.”

you give him a smile, and he returns it in a much more devious fashion—as if he’s saying you owe me for this. on any other day, you’d roll your eyes at something like that, but it’s almost nine am, and you crawled out of bed just moments ago—there isn’t much you wouldn’t do for him at this point.

satoru wraps an arm around one of your thighs as you stand next to him, and he pockets your grin—knowing it holds all the gratitude in the world, and a little something more.

though, you just end up batting him away when you notice the empty bowl sitting on the tray of your daughter’s high chair.

“she ate all her breakfast?” you ask, peering over to see if he hid any of her yogurt in the pouch of her silicone bib. “why don’t you ever do that for me?”

you lean down to boop a finger on her nose, and she kicks her feet in excitement—letting out something between a squeal and a laugh.

“‘cause you like me better, right?” satoru chimes in, holding his makeshift microphone in front of her with a toothy grin—which gets her to babble, for some reason. “oh? what’s that? i’m the best? your favourite?”

you bring a hand up to flick the back of his head—even though sometimes you think he’s right with the way she’s always smiling at him, but you just chalk it up to his high contrast, baby friendly look instead.

“think you misheard,” you point out, “sounded like ew dad, you stink to me.”

your husband—dramatic, and a sucker for your baby girl, flops down onto her little plastic tray in defeat.

“say it’s not true,” he whines, sneakily tickling one of her feet to get her to laugh but, consequently causing her to smack her hands on his head. “hey, hey!”

“that’s my girl,” you snort, and she babbles some more—loving the attention she’s getting from the two of you.

“hmm?” satoru leans in closer to her, as if she’s about to tell him a secret, and then he shields his mouth with his hand to respond. “yeah i know, i think that smell’s coming from over there too.”

the two smile at each other, and while it might be at your expense, you find yourself smiling too.

because you can see it now—satoru picking your daughter up from her first day of kindergarten, begging for the scoop on all her new classmates. he’d listen attentively, and pry just a little further every time she mentions a more masculine name—selfishly wanting to ensure that he’s still her favourite boy.

it’s just a thought of course, but you’ll definitely be holding him a little closer tonight.

“look, she’s doing it!” satoru pulls you back to the present moment, nudging your leg with his elbow. he’s given your baby her little silicone cup—the one she’s learning to drink from. she has it tilted back, spilling milk half into her mouth, and half into her bib. “kind of.”

once she’s quenched her thirst, she haphazardly tosses the cup onto her tray, and you note the white residue that sits on her top lip.

“well, satoru?” you grin at him, grabbing the long forgotten plastic green spoon—microphone, and holding it up to your husband’s mouth.

he furrows his brows and opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“how does it feel knowing your daughter has more of a stache right now than you ever will?”

he grins, at you and then her. “that’s my girl.”

[inquisitornocturn]

⊱─ 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕖 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, smut, improper use of charm spell (sorta), vampiric charming, dub-con I guess?, PiV, fingering, blood drinking, creampie, breeding kink, waiter there's a tiny bit of plot in my porn

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: only a stupid rogue would try to rob a suspected Vampire Lord but here you are, doing exactly that. well, right until you get caught with your greedy fingers picking a lock. surprisingly enough, Lord Astarion is not mad when he finds a thief in his chambers. how (un)fortunate you are that he thinks you're beautiful. and his punishment might yet become a reward instead.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,257

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Astarion breeding kink this, breeding kink that, well, here i am trying my own hand at it for the very first time ever. i don't know how good it is but i had fun writing it! this one shot started as something else, but well, here we are, being horny. enjoy! <3

p.s. in regards of "improper use of charm spell" tag - Astarion is using his vampiric charm on reader, she is completely under his control for most of the fic and thus i marked this as dubcon but she only truly consents towards the end of it. so if you're not into this type of thing click out.

You’re stupid, oh yes you are.

You suspected so even before you broke into the palace.

Like last night, when at the Blushing Mermaid your thieving buddies dared you to break into this grand home and steal an item two of them have been hired to steal. By whom? That never matters in your line of work. But you were drunk and too proud of your own skill in thievery. You boasted that you could do it the next night and so they dared you. You took their dare but when you woke up this morning you realized how badly this could end.

Breaking into the palace of a suspected Vampire Lord is something you never attempted nor have many others. But here you are now, attempting the stupidest heist of your life and only now you’re realizing just how stupid indeed you have been the night before and even more so tonight, for coming here, for breaking in and making it this far. Shit, you don’t even remember what consequences of failing this dare are anymore, you were too arrogant in your drunken haze and you might actually get killed.

So now you’re here, in a small, windowless, positively secret room, adjacent to Lord’s bedroom, your focus on the pedestal in front of you.

“A pretty little thing, aren’t you?” a smooth, almost silky voice comes from behind you and yet it feels like an assault.

You freeze, your fingers extended over a small metal chest that you were picking a lock of just a moment ago. You knew the risks coming here, or at least you hoped you did. And now it looks like you got caught in the act.

As you straighten your back and turn around you are met with crimson eyes, a toothy smirk and relaxed body language of a man who you came here to steal from. Astarion, the newest Lord of Baldur’s Gate, latest patriarch of Szarr palace, a charming man that you heard rumors about of being an actual vampire. Undesirable creatures tend to know of one another’s existence. Him – possibly a dangerous monster and you – a thief and a dagger for hire. For a moment you wonder what will happen if this confrontation comes to fighting. You doubt you could win. Even without confirmation of his possible immortality Lord Astarion has a certain aura about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You eye him slowly, carefully, examining smallest details. His demeanor doesn’t seem threatening but you see those fangs in his mouth and you know what they can do, you know the power he must possess. Yes, it’s no rumor after all, he is a vampire. And if the same rumors are correct – a very powerful one. He doesn’t need a dagger in his hand to be extremely dangerous and you’re not enough of a fool to pick a fight with a Vampire Lord unless you have to.

“Can I assume you’re not here to give me a key?” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re not going to be intimidated by him.

You have one more trick up your sleeve if things go murderously bad, a ring of teleportation that you rarely use because it tends to trigger magical defenses but since Astarion already caught you there’s no reason to avoid using it if you can’t talk your way out of the situation. And you will try to talk your way out of it because you have too much pride to scuttle away like a spooked rat.

Vampire’s eyes slide down your body smoothly like a viper, then back up again. Another glance to the metal box behind you and then back to your eyes. He tilts his face to an angle, giving you a curious look.

“I could. But I do wonder what are you doing here. And more so, I am dying to hear how you got inside without being noticed, how have you made it this far as to end up in my personal chambers.” his tone is still smooth like velvet and it gives you chills.

“Let’s say I’m good at what I do.” you smirk at him, despite your unease and tension in your body you are not going to show even a sliver of it to him.

“Indeed you are.” Astarion now steps closer and you move to the side when he approaches the box, placing his long, nimble fingers on it. You recognize a hand of a man who has picked many such locks himself in the past and you wonder about his history for a moment before he looks at you again, his eyes always on yours, almost never leaving.

“Do you know what’s in there, darling?” vampire asks and you cross your arms on your chest, shifting your weight on the other foot. Your goal is also to appear non-threatening but your muscles are tight as a spring.

“I was hoping it’s the Amulet of Weeping.” you say straightforwardly. You see no reason to lie because unless Astarion keeps something more in the box he knows perfectly well what you were trying to get.

Vampire chuckles lightly and taps his fingertips on the lid of the box.

“Indeed. Do you know what it does, you precious little thief?” the smirk on his lips and his eyes, forever locked on yours, it’s almost all you can see.

Yet his question makes you lose your cool. You look at the metal box and clear your throat, stalling for time but then look back at him.

“Well, actually I don’t. You see-“ a sudden finger on your lips, silencing you. If he’s a vampire, why his touch is so warm? And how in the Nine Hells he’s so fast? You didn’t even see him move, it was like a flash, it happened in a blink of an eye.

Oh yes, he’s even more dangerous than the tales you’ve heard.

“Shh. Don’t speak.” Astarion’s voice is soothing, alluring.

What is this… Why you feel so relaxed, so… warm? Your alertness starts to blunt, your caution begins to turn into curiosity and are you flushing? Your face feels hot and this change you feel somehow does not feel strange or unwelcome. It’s like being embraced, it’s like being caressed, you belong.

And all you can see is the crimson of his eyes.

“There we go. I’m sure you’re feeling better. Don’t resist, my dear, just relax, I’m not going to harm you. Maybe I will even reward you for being so brave.” Astarion croons with a voice like silk.

“Reward?” you ask, feeling like you’re in a dream. A voice in the back of your head tells you you’re being charmed but that voice is quickly snuffed out. It’s gone like a whisp of smoke from a candle that just got blown out. One moment it’s there and then not even a memory of it lingers.

“Yes, a reward, darling. Wouldn’t you like to be rewarded?” vampire’s fingers now grip your chin softly, lifting your face to his, his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“What… kind of reward?” even your own voice sounds distant now but you couldn’t care less. Those eyes… Those red eyes that bore into yours… They are everything.

“Ah, now what kind of reward we will have to see for ourselves.” Astarion smirks but his fangs don’t bother you anymore, if anything they look attractive, lighting a fire in your belly. “Let’s go, I’ll let you pick your reward, you little thief.”

With that he moves his fingers from your chin and wraps his arm around your shoulders, now leading you out of this small room. You follow without question or hesitation, but glance back at the box just once, trying to remember what was so special about it and why did you even come here. No, you don’t remember. And it doesn’t matter, not anymore.

When you look in front of you the door opens and a view of a lavish bedroom greets you. A big, luxurious bed with bedposts and parted drapes, all in black or red or gold. Simple glance around the room reveals several paintings, some bookshelves and cabinets, closets and a table, some comfortable looking armchairs. The carpet even under your boots feels soft, you almost want to lay down on it. But Astarion’s arm around your shoulders makes you walk further, towards the bed, and you barely register the door behind you closing.

Why are you here? Oh yes, the reward. When Astarion stops you just in front of the bed, his arm leaves you and he turns you to him by your shoulders. When your eyes land on his you smile. He’s so beautiful, so handsome, he’s the prettiest being you have ever seen. He sees your smile, your glazed over eyes and smiles in return.

“Not afraid of me, are you?” he asks and you slowly shake your head. “Very good. I must say, you are very very pretty, darling. What’s your name?”

Your name… Your name? What’s your name?

Your face scrunches in confusion, your eyes scan his chest and noses of your boots as if the answer is written somewhere in his noble’s attire or in the leather of your shoes. You look up at him again and Vampire Lord chuckles.

“Well, that matters not. You will remember soon enough.” Astarion uses both hands to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears and you smile at him again. His touch is soft, warm and wanted. “But, to get back to my point, you are beautiful.” he leans closer to your face, his smile and his eyes become your whole world. “And I like to collect beautiful things.”

“Things?” you echo and something once more tugs at your mind but then disappears again. You’re perfectly in his control. Under his gaze you can’t resist him.

Astarion does not bother to reply, his gaze sweeps down your body, analyzing every piece of clothing you’re wearing, then his nimble fingers begin unclasping your leather armor, taking it off piece by piece, dropping one item after another to the side of his feet. At first you don’t realize what’s going on, you just watch his face but when vampire slips the straps of your bra off your shoulders you finally blink in confusion.

When you look down at yourself you see yourself half naked, your nipples perk up at the contrast between the air of the room and the warmth of your clothing that just got removed. You rise your eyes to Astarion and see his smile once more. You don’t recognize the gentle malice in his expression but even if you did you wouldn’t care, not until the fog is lifted from your mind.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” Vampire Lord whispers and his face is so close you can smell wine on his breath and… something else. Something metallic, coppery, you can’t put your finger on it.

Your face scrunches at the thought, your eyes move to his lips and his smile, you see the fangs.

Ah yes, that’s right, he’s a vampire.

Wait, what are you doing here?

You gasp, your thoughts get interrupted by Astarion pinching both your nipples at the same time. Again you feel the fire in your abdomen, you recognize it as desire and you look into his eyes, the crimson of them drowning you like a lake of blood. And you give in.

“I want something from you.” Vampire Lord’s whisper replaces your thoughts and you just stand there with your face flushed and your body reacting with a shiver because he’s still teasing your nipples. “Something you can give me with ease.” a pause, a moment passes, then you feel his palm press against the small of your back and push you towards him, against his chest. Your hands grasp his waist and your lips part. “Just give in, darling. And I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

You see his grin and it would look dangerous to you if you weren’t completely in his control. Instead of fear you feel overwhelming lust and you close your eyes, turning your face up and inviting him for a kiss.

And Astarion does kiss you. His lips clash against yours in a hurry and passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, past your teeth, it tastes you and you taste him back. Yes, you recognize what it was that you smelled before – blood. You taste it on his lips, you taste it on his tongue and you don’t care. Your heart beats fast in your chest, your fingers now move to his clothing, trying to find clasps, buttons and laces. You manage to open his doublet, slip it off his shoulders. You don’t hear it falling to the floor, because only thing you’re hearing is your own heartbeat beating fast in your ears.

But then the kiss stops. You don’t know how long it lasted, a minute, an hour, a year? Still, you feel like it wasn’t enough, you don’t want it to stop and you barely open your eyes before you immediately try to kiss him again, eliciting a chuckle out of the Vampire Lord.

“How eager.” he comments but you don’t care. Your arms find his neck and you try to pull his head lower, to your level, your lips seek his with urgency, but with ease Astarion pushes you away. “Patience, my pet. I’ll reward you soon enough.”

You exhale in dizzy frustration but lower your hands, obeying. It’s easy to listen to him, you realize. What a pleasant feeling, you could do this forever.

“Stand still, darling.” Astarion’s voice reaches your ears and you return to the present.

You now watch him undo laces of your pants and slide them down your hips and thighs, together with your underwear, exposing you fully. You don’t know what shame is and you don’t remember how embarrassment feels like. You only know one thing – you want this man, you want him to take you and it’s hard not to start begging.

Astarion guides you while he takes off your pants and shoes, helping you step out of last bits of your clothing and when he raises again he puts one arm around your hips, leading you to the bed. It looks so soft, inviting. You want to spend forever in it with him. So when you feel vampire pat you on the ass, urging you to climb in, you do so without hesitation.

When you turn around and lay on your back, you have a moment to watch Astarion shed his own clothing in full. He takes his time, his eyes roaming up and down your nude body, his eyes would tell you of possessiveness and even a hint of cruelness if you could think straight, but right now you only see that he wants you. After he pulls his pants down and his eager erection is revealed, you swallow hardly. You want it in you, you want to taste it, you want to please him. You want to serve.

“Do you like what you see?” Astarion taunts and you nod without any shame, your lips part and you lick them, your gaze focused on his cock, so ready to make you his, maybe forever.

Vampire Lord kicks off his shoes at last, then removes his pants completely and after he straightens his back, you watch his hand grasp his shaft and give it a few slow strokes. After the third or fourth you notice precum glistening at the top of his cock.

“Ah…” is only thing you manage to say, your desire coiling and moving in you like a hungry snake. Your reaction makes Astarion chuckle and the sound of it forces yours eyes back on his once more.

He gets closer and climbs into bed slowly with a grace of a predator, his body moves on top of yours and you part your legs widely for him, welcoming him. You lean your head back, relaxing in the bed and Astarion once more sweeps your body with his gaze, stopping at your breasts.

“Touch yourself.” he commands and you immediately do so. Your hands raise, cup your breasts, your fingertips graze your nipples and then pinch them, roll them, tug at them gently while you do as instructed. You see how intensively Astarion is watching you, his smirk widens when you let out a soft moan, then another. You were ready for him already, this is just making it worse.

Finally he looks down, between your legs, and with one hand pressed against the bed for support with other he traces the inner side of your thigh up and then higher. When he touches your entrance, feels how wet you are for him, he exhales slowly. His fingers explore every inch of your sex, making you gasp and moan louder, then his thumb brushes against your clit, sending a shiver through your body.

“You’re so ready for me, pet.” Astarion’s voice is husky, it’s obvious he’s getting worked up too as his eyes dart between his own fingers exploring you and you playing with your nipples.

That dreamy feeling you’ve been feeling up until now lessens, maybe it’s because Astarion is less concentrated, maybe your own desire is making your mind begin to break free but you now realize that you’ve got seduced into this man’s bed. Yet you’re too aroused, too impassioned to stop here. And your body still screams to be taken, to be conquered and to be claimed.

And he’s just so beautiful. No, you’re not free from his charm and allure, not even close, and your mind focuses on his silver locks falling gracefully around his face, you see his eyes, now filled with lust and desire, examining every inch of your body. You feel his fingers making you moan with a practiced touch and you want more. So much more.

“Take me.” you hear yourself say with a gasp and your hips buck against his fingers as if your own body is out of your control, not only your thoughts.

Astarion now looks into your eyes and smiles.

“I’m going to do so much more, my dearest pet. I’m going to claim you, I’m going to fill your tight holes and then I’ll have you beg for more.” his words send a shiver down your body that pools between your thighs, his fingers tease your cunt and he immediately notices that you got even wetter, it makes him smirk. “I’ll make you mine, I’ll claim you, and I will keep filling you with my seed every night. And who knows, maybe you’ll give me an heir eventually.”

Silence falls while your face gets redder with his every word.

An heir? He wants you to do what? Yet his eyes are still your entire world and your body moves, your hips moving again, your cunt pressing against his fingers in need.

Yes, you will give him an heir. As long as you can be his.

Your hands leave your breasts and you put your palms on the back of his head, your fingers threading in his hair.

“Yes, I will.” you whisper and that reply rewards you with a passionate kiss.

Astarion’s fingers now leave your drenched seam and roughly pull your knee up, making you hook your leg around his waist. His chest presses against yours and you sigh against his lips.

And then he enters you. One swift thrust and he’s fully inside, stretching you almost to a point of uncomfortable fullness and you moan at that, your mouth remains open with the gasp but his lips are also parted, he’s enjoying the feeling of you around his cock. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and your fingers clench in his hair.

“Take me. Make me yours.” you whisper and a guttural growl escapes Astarion’s throat at your words. He doesn’t wait, he begins thrusting.

You close your eyes and moan, feeling his cock pierce you again and again. You’re so aroused his shaft is moving with satisfying ease, his hips snapping against you with increasing pace.

“Fuck, you’re going to look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” Astarion grunts and lowers his head to your neck, kissing it first, then nibbling the skin with his teeth. His hand grips your thigh strongly, keeping it up.

Only response you can give him is your moans, loud and unashamed. You hold onto his neck and hair while he rocks himself against you, filling you deeply with his cock, his thrusts unrelenting. It feels like he’s been going at it for hours and every second is better than the last.

Your mind swims from sensations. His sweaty skin against yours, his shaft buried deep inside your cunt, his teeth on your neck, his fangs-

“Ouch!” you exclaim when he bites down, sinking his canines into your flesh, but when you react you hear a rumble of a laugh coming from him. Astarion lifts his head at you, his lips are painted in redness of your blood.

“Get used to it, my pet. You’re mine now.”

Vampire Lord bites you again and this time you just sigh. Somehow his first bite was painful, second one sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers leave his hair, you place your palms on his back, feeling something there like scars, but you don’t know, you’re far away, consumed by your passion. It’s just his lithe body claiming yours, making you writhe and arch your back, making you moan.

Then Astarion slows, he moves his hips now lower, his pelvis brushes against yours, then an angle changes and he begins rubbing himself against your swollen clit, sending jolts down your spine. You open your eyes, more in surprise than anything and see Astarion’s smug smile.

“Enjoying yourself, darling?” he lifts his head with a smug smile, confident because he knows he’s good at this and he’s correct. You whimper and nod eagerly, your face still flushed. “Good.”

Astarion’s thrusts ease into a steady pace. How his skin is rubbing against you is beginning to drive you crazy. You look at him, not able to control your moans that are growing louder by the second. What is he doing to you? You never felt pleasure like this before. You can’t stop, you don’t want to stop.

“Come for me.” you hear a whisper in your ear and then he looks at your face again, enjoying the view.

Everything up until this point felt like a dream, but not this.

You feel your orgasm with every inch of your body. You cry out and dig your nails into Astarion’s back, your body tenses and your cunt clenches around him, your sweaty form spasms and you feel yourself clinging to him.

“Good girl, very good girl.”

You are barely able to comprehend Astarion’s words, because the world melts around you, this moment is intense, most intense thing you experienced in your life. But Vampire Lord doesn’t stop thrusting. When your bliss begins to fade, when you come down from your high, you look at him again and Astarion leans away from you. He straightens his back as much as he can, his palms pressed on the bed by your sides and his now messy hair drapes over his eyes but you see him watching his cock plunge into you with increasing fervor.

“Watch me fill you, my pet.” vampire’s grunt is laced with strain as he keeps fucking you while you’re trying to recover from your orgasm. You’re out of breath but this is not over, not until he says it is.

And you listen, you look down, seeing your bodies connect with every pump of his hips and you grasp at the sheets. Something about this, the anticipation, the knowledge of what he’s about to do and the desire to be used by him, it’s making the edges of your world blurry.

Astarion is grunting now, his lips parted and he’s breathing heavily. Even his face is flushed, but then he moans loudly just before he clenches his teeth. His thrusts become erratic, his eyes locked on the motion of him thrusting into you, his groans are barely passing his teeth. You know he’s spending himself entirely inside of you and it’s a delicious thought. And then after few more pumps he stops, panting when his face relaxes. You keep your eyes where your bodies are still connected, your thighs are quivering, and Astarion glances up at you with a smirk.

He says nothing as he moves one hand and grips the base of his cock, slowly pulling out of you now. You mewl gently at that, the feeling of him leaving your body is an unwelcome one. But Astarion is not done yet. He kneels between your thighs and pats your inner thigh with his cock that is now losing its hardness. With a satisfied grin he lets go of it and presses a thumb to your fold, teasing it, watching his cum seep out of you. You blush heavily at that even though you can’t see what he’s seeing.

“Beautiful.” Vampire Lord comments more to himself than to you and remains still for a long moment, just appreciating the view. Then his eyes raise to your face. “Rest for a bit. When I said I’m going to fill your holes, I meant all of them.”

You nod eagerly despite your face burning.

You cannot wait.

[meet-you-at-the-north-star]

Save the Last Dance For Me

Summary: you and Dick have been dating in secret, until at a party he’s forced by circumstances (coff George Luz coff) to set things straight

Notes: fluff, jealousy

Word count: 1068

“I don't believe you actually have a boyfriend. You were saying that just to throw me off” The brown-eyed soldier insisted in a mocking way.

I smiled to myself and glanced furtively behind me, more or less where I knew the man I was secretely dating must have been.

“Oh you better believe it, George” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, looking at him quite amused.

“Then who is it? Why is it such a secret?” He asked rolling his eyes.

“I'm really not sure you want to know” I smirked, and that was certainly no lie.

“Alright, alright” he raised his arms in surrender. “Tell you what, let's make a deal: I stop asking about this mysterious guy if you agree to dance with me.” The tone was hopeful: “Just one song” He specified, noticing my raised eyebrow.

I didn't see anything wrong with giving him one dance, so I agreed: “Okay, but I don't want to hear another word about it.” I warned him.

He flashed a toothy smile and offered me his hand, in such a funny and theatrical way that it made me burst out laughing. "You're an idiot"

“I know” He winked.

We began to move to the center of the wide room, where other couples were already dancing. He wasn't exactly a talented dancer and kept tripping over my feet, making us both laugh.

About a minute and a half into the song, we managed to find a slightly more synchronized rhythm. I looked up at his face and little by little his usual playful smile had disappeared, his eyes instead fixed on me with an unusually serious and intense look that left little room for misunderstandings.

Uh oh, I thought. This wasn’t good news. I had been too naive to think that accepting to dance with him wouldn’t send involuntary mixed signals.

“George…” I said, instinctively moving away to leave more space between our bodies.

The song we were dancing to came to an end just then. “One more song?” He half pleaded, his expression so hopeful that it broke my heart a little. I didn’t want to be the one to do this to him.

I looked at him gently. “I'm sorry, I can't” I started to take a step back, but he didn't let go of my left hand, still intertwined with his, almost as if he was struggling and fighting the urge to draw me back to him.

“George” I repeated, voice calm but with a hint of warning.

Before I could do or say anything else, I felt a slight shift of air and then a hand coming to rest lightly on my side. I didn't need to look to know who it belonged to.

George’s eyes widened and he immediately let go of my hand. “Major Winters!” He almost stood at attention. “I-I didn't see you there”

I finally allowed myself to shift my attention to Dick. His gaze was firmly fixated on George and he was barely blinking. I saw no trace of anger or irritation in it (though I knew he was quite good at disguising those), but a clear determination that spoke much louder than words.

“No need for formalities, private, this is a party. I trust that you're having fun?” His tone was calm and polite as usual, but for once almost unnaturally so. As a consequence, it came across as slightly menacing.

George must have sensed the trap, because he soon started babbling: “Yes, sir! I mean…a normal, regular amount of fun. Nothing special going on here. Just one dance” He really stressed the word one.

“I'm glad to hear that” Dick smiled, at last turning his attention towards me. “Because I was really looking forward to this next one. Can I have the honor, miss?”

My heart skipped a beat at that. Jealousy was a new but certainly rather good look on him.

“Of course you can, major” I decided to play along even though it was pretty clear, what he was doing.

When I looked to the side, George had already vanished into thin air. I gave a small chuckle. “You didn't need to terrorize him like that”

“I did no such thing” he said with a smirk, quickly intertwining our fingers, while his other hand was still firmly resting on my right side. The band began playing a slower tempo, romantic song and I gladly let him lead me into the music. He was a pretty good dancer. Then again, I was yet to find anything he couldn’t do well.

Both of my eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? What happened to keeping secrecy above all?” I teased him.

“Well, it felt like the situation required that I come clean.” He whispered very close to my ear. “Besides, you didn't seem to mind all that much”

I felt a warm rush of adrenaline going through my body, and hoped I wasn't blushing outwardly as I was on the inside.

I recognized it as the effect only he had on me. Being in his arms felt so natural and right, it left no space for doubt in regards to my feelings for this man, and his for me. And I really didn't mind one bit.

“Who are you and what have you done to Dick Winters” I shook my head in disbelief, laughing.

“Does that mean that I should stop?” He inquired.

Without interrupting our slow swaying back and forth to the rhytmn, I placed both of my hands around his neck, bringing him closer, allowing myself to stare straight into his eyes. “Don't you dare”

I saw a brief flash of hesitation passing through those blue eyes, like an implicit request for permission, and I nodded, smiling.

“I've been waiting to do this all night” He gently cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, slowly but ardently, in front of everyone.

I could hear a few gasps and cheers in the background over the sound of the music playing, but when we turned around everybody had gone back to the party acting as if nothing happened.

“You know, major, your men will definitely talk after this” I jokingly protested.

I could feel his smile on my lips as he kissed me again: “Let them”

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐙𝐘 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ - pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ - summary: imagine you go for dinner at your neighbours house and you’re told you’re getting married? you better get cozy for this one!

˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings for this chapter: none

˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: hey y’all…. i told you guys i don’t have a planned schedule for this series and i’m really starting to think i should 😭. i hope you guys enjoy this and lemme know if you wanna be tagged 🤭

masterlist

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"Renaissance yachtin' in capri!" Nadia sang as she entered the driveway of the Hamiltons only a week after the first dinner. Knowing her mother's dramatics, Thembi had once again requested her presence at the home except she had to drive straight to the Hamiltons house. Finding the situation weird but not giving it a second thought, she parked next to the all black G63, one of her many dream cars and one she hadn't seen the last time she was here. Thinking it was just a simple visit (and Thembi hadn't given her a chance to dress up after the phone call), Nadia fixed the Nike tee and adjusted the biker shorts she had worn throughout her chill Saturday morning.

Knocking on the wooden door felt weird, given that she was welcomed into the house before but she felt like something quite suspicious was going on but she couldn't even figure it out. Rubbing her eye whilst waiting for someone to answer the door, she wrote a few reminders on her phone to not forget to complete the work she had to take home from the previous day.

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine?" Nadia had recognised the voice to be Nicola, adding a little laugh after her sentence. "I woke up late so this is valid." Nadia replied, giving a smile as she entered the house with Nicola making room for her to walk in. After the first dinner, the two women had kept in touch because of the growing friendship and Willow, who would send a voice message every day to say hi. But this time, Nadia couldn't hear the kids laughing or playing around the house.

Oh, this was serious.

"Is that Nadia, darling?" Linda's voice chimed through the entrance hallway leading to the living room. "Hello Mrs Hamilton." The young woman greeted, giving Linda a side eye as she held a glass of water in her hand. "Please Nadia, rather call me Linda. Do come through, my dear!"

"We're out by the patio, need the bathroom before we start?" Nicola asked, making Nadia way more confused the more footsteps she took. "Start with what?" She trailed off, seeing Nicola just smile and head into the direction of the patio with her following. This was officially starting to get weird but Nadia chose to push her thoughts aside for this lunch.

"Oh she's here! How was the drive, Nads?" Her mom spoke up as soon as Nadia's foot hit the wooden floor of the large patio. Different types of charcuterie boards were placed with juices and waters to accommodate everyone but the atmosphere seemed so different from the dinner last week, it rather felt like a meeting.

"Helloooo." Nadia dragged out the greeting as she eventually found an empty seat, once again, next to Lewis. The man was genuinely a sight to see as the sun shined on him as he sat comfortably on the patio bench chair. Wearing a black NY cap, a graphic tee once again with a pair of jeans this time and his jewellery on display, Lewis smiled up at her with a toothy grin.

After personally greeting everyone around the table and answering their fast questions, she plopped down onto the chair with a few of her bracelets clanging together. The familiar scents of each other from the last time they met fused together as they both studied each other once again.

Nadia's tattoos were finally on display, each dainty artwork fluttered around her skin with a few being inked in red. The most noticeable thing being her hair as she changed the colour to black and it reached past her back. The makeup was very simple and she only carried her phone and lipgloss in her hand as she placed the overly cracked device onto the table right next to Lewis'. When she smiled, he noticed a small gem on one of her front teeth and he definitely admired her style, not one he would regularly picture on a high school teacher.

"You know Nadia, we were just talking about how odd it would be to suddenly become famous within a matter of hours." Linda started, grabbing the large jug of grape juice to give the girl a glass. Helping the older woman, Nadia lifted herself off the chair and gave Lewis a look, non verbally asking if it was true and his eyebrows furrowed whilst pursing his lip upwards, making Nadia smile a little.

"Really? In what aspects?" She sat back down, lifting the glass to her gloss covered lips and only taking little sips. "Oh just how you'd maybe have to close off social media for a while and suddenly having people around you to help with everything." Linda said, taking her glass of water and eyeing Nadia's mom after her sentence. Tilting her head in confusion, she made sure to sit comfortably as this was definitely an interesting conversation.

"I never really thought about it like that actually. The way teams assemble within a matter of hours is something else but I always hear my students say that they're one hundred percent ready for fame." Nadia watched the two older women constantly look at each other with the older men being suspiciously quiet. "Oh and don't even get me started on the scandals you're put through." Nicola submerged from the house, holding a fresh pizza on a wooden board with an extra plate.

"Lewis, you'd know a thing or two about these things right?" Nicola smirked as she placed the plate on the opposite side of the table. Snapping her head towards Lewis, he sighed then nodded before straightening up his posture as it was before. Now Nadia was incredibly confused. Although she spent at least two hours in conversation with Lewis, she never really found out what exactly he does for a living even though he knew what she did as she went on a whole rant about her day with the teenagers. The way he had carried himself whilst speaking with everyone and just how he listened made it seem like he could be a businessman of some sort that clearly made his money and he made it well as he wore jewellery pieces that she could only dream of seeing.

A beat of silence passed and a knock on the door was heard. "Oh, that must be Gerald." Anthony got up in quite a hurry, with the table falling into conversation to detour the previous topic. After the man was welcomed onto the patio, he placed his small briefcase next to him on the chair with Nadia's suspicions growing more and more.

But what if he was really just there for lunch?

The word 'deactivate' kept being thrown around between Nicola, Thembi and Linda for several minutes, snapping Nadia and Lewis out of their conversation on her tattoos. "Nads, come here really quickly and bring your phone." Her mom ordered as the young girl walked to their side of the table. Standing over all three women, she held her phone in front of her mom's face. "How do you deactivate your Instagram? Nicola here made one for me but i don't want it anymore." Thembi asked, once again eyeing Linda.

Showing the directions on her own phone, Nadia then became distracted by her stepdad's question. "Nads, do you know when Rea's flight lands? Will you be okay to go?" He asked, slightly jumping at something. "Yes, I'll be fine. Her flight lands at like two in the morning so after here I'll just finish up some work then go to the airport early." Nadia responded, feeling her hand move a little as she spoke to James.

Thembi tapped her daughter's hand as Nadia focused back on her phone. Seeing her instagram page now logged out, she groaned at the thought of her completely forgetting her password to it. Plopping back into her seat defeated, Lewis eyed her then her phone that she placed on the table. "You good?" He asked, turning his body to look at her. "I think I  accidentally logged myself out of insta and i forgot where i wrote down the password." Nadia frowned a little as she clasped her hands together. Even though he didn't want to seem like he was smiling at her misery but the little pout she had on her face was adorable and obviously he wasn't going to admit that anytime soon.

"Okay, I cannot do this anymore." Anthony announced out as he sighed which caught everyone's attention. "Dad, what's going on?" Lewis asked worried, he had noticed his father was quiet most of the time but he brushed it off knowing that his father was usually like this.

"Son, listen. I know what I'm about to say will sound insane but I need you to listen very carefully. Along with you too, Nadia." Anthony stated. Linda then stood next to her husband in terror. "Wait, Anthony. Are you sure you want to do this right now?" She muttered.

And now the uneasy feeling came right back.

"Lewis, you know I care for you deeply however these past few weeks have been tough for you... and pr." His dad started off, earning a sigh from Lewis and a pinch on the bridge of his nose. Seeing Lewis stress like this was weird for Nadia and what exactly did his father mean by PR? Anyone could tell that he wanted to say something but chose to keep quiet.

Now sitting up properly, Nadia was intrigued with the entire situation and wondered how famous Lewis actually was.

"Linda and I, along with Nadia's parents and Nicola have decided that we wanted to help you to clean up your image a little more even though you are a private person. And for that, we've come up with the concept of a fake marriage between you and Nadia." Anthony concluded and took his seat.

It was as if the blood from Nadia completely left her face after that very last sentence however her face stayed extremely neutral. Her face rather snapped towards her parents who were avoiding eye contact with her.

The silence was so loud, the birds chirping ever so slightly as if they were part of the plan as well. Looking at everyone's face, anyone could tell that this had probably been discussed many times before. "What?" Nadia being the first one to say something, spoke in a monotone voice.

"Look we wanted to see how you two would get along when you first met and it had seemed to work very well. We're only really looking out for you, Lewis. These rumours have kinda taken a toll on you." Nicola voiced, seeing that their faces were stoic yet burning daggers into everyone's skulls.

Finally looking at each other, Lewis and Nadia's eyes met with no source of attraction to each other in that present moment. "This is crazy." Lewis muttered to himself as he shook his head whilst looking down at his shoes.

"Okay." Nadia said, crossing her arms and looked at her mom directly. "Okay?" Lewis grumbled with slightly narrowed eyes to the girl. "Yeah. Clearly this is important and stuff so I'll do it." Nadia responded with a calm facade but she was truly screaming on the inside, her leg shaking underneath the table. Shocked as he was at her nonchalant response to the situation, he slumped back and chose to not speak up in front of guests. Lewis wasn't frustrated in the slightest but he was just extremely confused.

"What about the details?" Lewis sighed, feeling through his beard and accepting his fate.

"Wait, you're actually doing this?" Thembi expressed. If anything, Thembi felt embarrassed to even coming up with this suggestion thinking that it was going to help the driver and his many social problems. "Ma, please tell us the details before we rethink doing this for you guys." Nadia deadpanned, grabbing a grape from one of the charcuterie boards displayed.

"Well. You would have to tell the world that you've been married for at least a year or two and I've already told your PR team, Lewis, to get everything ready before you announce. For now, you're only allowed to tell your closest friends and coworkers about this so that it doesn't seem suspicious that your friends didn't know of your marriage." Nicola started.

"Nadia, because you're now affiliated with Lewis, security and a team will have to assembled to be at your beck and call. Marie from Lewis' team will come over to help you choose potential candidates for your everyday team. Now the difficult part. You two have to be married legally because you know how people get, Lewis. They'll want evidence. And that's Gerald is here for." She concluded, gesturing to the guest to open his briefcase but god, did he feel awkward.

"Uh, hello. Here's the marriage certificate you two are meant to sign for the court to recognise it as an actual marriage." The poor man was red in the face as he shakily placed the certificate between Nadia and Lewis with a pen. With her freshly manicured hand, the girl picked the pen and signed underneath her name officially as a Mrs. She took a quick glance at Lewis' name and it seemed so familiar but the thing that intrigued her the most was the 'Sir' before anything.

Lewis had a good look at Nadia's side profile as he watched her sign the official papers. She didn't seem bothered with anything that was said, it was as if everything just defeated her and she just accepted it. If there's one thing he noticed was that it looked like she didn't have a clue about who he was at all and that was so fascinating to him.

She handed the pen to him, their hands touching a little with the warmest touch as they made eye contact. They both couldn't read each other's eyes, only dark brown pupils staring into each other's souls. Lewis then also signed with a bit of hesitation, the reality falling on him as he dragged the pen to the very last of his signature.

"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Hamilton." Gerald broke the silence as he uttered his words. He quickly packed his briefcase and walked away from the table with a small wave to everyone to escape from the awkwardness of the lunch table.

"You only have to do this for a year or so then you can either divorce publicly or privately. And the living situation has to be changed. Nadia, you will have to be almost everywhere with Lewis now that you've signed that certificate so I am not sure how you will handle this at your workplace. Do you have an active passport?" Anthony ended with his question to which the quiet girl just nodded.

"Wait, where am I going to live?" Nadia asked, eventually snapping out of the quiet demeanour she had. "Well you'll have to speak to your husband about that." Linda smiled at the two, the smile slowly falling when seeing their deadpanned faces.

Sighing out for the final time, Lewis sighed and lightly tapped Nadia on the arm signaling for her attention. He held his car keys in his hand and she knew that she had to go because being there any longer would've suffocated her. The newly married couple simultaneously stood up and gathered their belongings, making everyone's faces grow into confusion.

"Where are you guys going?" Thembi asked, standing up as well with a worried expression. All Lewis did was shrug as he fixed his shirt and move out of the way so that Nadia could walk before him. "Bye everyone! Your charcuterie boards looked amazing by the way, Linda." It was as if someone completely different had greeted the group goodbye because her mood changed in a matter of seconds as if nothing happened.

"What the hell did we just do?" Nicola asked, rubbing her forehead as she watched the two walk away and out of the house.

-

"You've arrived at your destination." The automated voice rang through the large car as it approached a large black gate behind an elegant building.

The drive to the unknown destination was not as quiet as they thought it would be. When entering the car, all Nadia could do was to laugh as soon as Lewis entered the car so much so that a few tears of laughter came out. It was a sound that he appreciated to hear and he joined her in her laughter. They couldn't believe that they even went through that, mainly laughing at the fact they went into the house for lunch and left as a married couple.

It was quite the lengthy drive but it seemed much quicker as they spent the time speaking about what happened at lunch yet they never got to the topic of his job and also because they decided to play music to get rid of the negative mood they both had.

“I thought you were going to kidnap for a second. I still do.” Nadia joked as he playfully rolled his eyes at her. “Where are we even?” She looked out of the window to see the back of the large building, eventually spotting a small yet visible sign on the wall reading ‘Harrods VIP parking’.

Letting the smallest gasp escape her mouth, she gazed at Lewis once again who was typing on his phone and wondered what he did for a living for him to be able to decide to park his car here. The rumours from this department store were unbelievable so to see them bloom in real life felt surreal to Nadia.

Lewis definitely saw Nadia to be a good friend to him and could keep her around his circle and vice versa. It was a sign that a friendship was brewing between each other and they’re somewhat grateful for that although it happened so quickly.

“Seriously bruv, where are you taking me? I have to get home to watch catfish.” She asked, flicking her hair back and he laughed once more. “Bruv?” He said in between his giggles. “Okay my pookie wookie buddy bear, where are you taking me?” She said, fluttering her eyelashes at him which made him burst into so much more laughter.

“Since you want to know so badly, we’re going to Cartier to get our wedding rings.” He smiled a toothy grin, turning off the ignition of the car while looking at her stunned expression.

“…what?”

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @tispys-blog @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @goldsainz

dividers by: @cafekitsune

faceclaim for nadia: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

all pictures from pinterest and ig!

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 11: Werewolf

@hellcheerweek

“I think there’s another werewolf,” Argyle says out of the blue. 

Nancy, halfway through her lunch and mid-chew, pauses briefly to look at Argyle. And she’s not the only one - Jonathan, Robin, Eddie and Chrissy all stop to look up. 

It wasn’t just the words that caught their attention, it was how Argyle had blown into the library, leaving the doors swinging furiously in his wake. Despite having an unpredictable and intense nature for three days of the month, Argyle never hurried or shouted or did anything at any great speed at all. 

“What do you mean,” Murray asks. He stood behind the desk, sorting returns, and Argyle had walked right past him. “That there’s another werewolf?”

“Yeah, weren’t you locked up as usual last night?” Eddie points out, handing Chrissy some of his grapes. “Who was on duty?” 

“Nancy,” Robin says, because they all take turns on Argyle watch. They rigged one of the rooms in the basement, using old batting cage frames and a long weekend drilling and welding so the end result gives Argyle a safe place to work out whatever toothy aggression the moon brings him. The Slayers work alone, while everyone else takes shifts in pairs. “Did you notice anything?”

“No,” Nancy says firmly, swiping mayonnaise before it can drop from her sandwich. “He was locked in all night.”

“Last night wasn’t the problem, dudes,” Argyle insists. “I know it wasn’t me. But I stopped by the deli during second period. Mrs Walsh was talking to Alice about her dairy farm. Three cows were killed last night. Sliced up like salami.”

“And you think it was another werewolf?” Eddie says with a frown. This is definitely a problem. An unchecked, unrestrained werewolf has a hunger that will run rampant for three nights every month. Argyle had needed no persuading to be locked up every month, insistent that he not have the chance to hurt anyone. But if there’s another one…

“I think it might be?” Argyle says, looking thoroughly miserable. “I don’t know what else slices up livestock.”

“Nothing good,” Nancy says decisively, balling up her napkin. “Shit. Patrol tonight. All hands on deck. Someone tell Steve and Billy.”

“Later,” Robin mumbles from around her fruit rollup. “They’re probably making out behind the gym.”

“Who exactly is going to watch Argyle?” Jonathan points out, because there are still two nights of the full moon remaining. Nancy’s mouth twists as she considers the answer. She can’t really sacrifice the heavy hitters to stay behind, when there might be a rogue werewolf wandering the streets.

Argyle takes the seat that Jon pushes out for him, looking so forlorn that Chrissy wants to hug him. Nancy’s eyes flick over to him as she thinks. 

“Chrissy and Eddie,” she says finally. Eddie shrugs. He can take down a vamp if need be and Chrissy’s visions are incredibly useful at times but they’re not the most valuable members of the team. They’re better off staying behind to watch the trapped Argyle.

“Walkies?” he says easily. “In case anything goes wrong and you need backup.” Nancy nods. The remainder of her sandwich is lying forgotten on the table. 

“Let’s hope we don’t,” she says. “Everyone meet back here before moon-rise. Argyle will get himself shut in and the rest of us…well, let’s hope we don’t actually find anything.”

“What about the next night?” Jonathan asks. He’s right…there’s still two more nights of a full moon to go, including tonight. 

“Then we do it all again,” Nancy says grimly. 

<hr>

Argyle watches aren't the most thrilling thing in the world. 

“I feel bad for him,” Eddie says, fingers lingering on the tranquilizer gun they have for nights like this. Argyle, an hour into his wolfy persona, paces anxiously up and down the cage. 

“So do I,” Chrissy says, pouring herself some tea from the thermos. They have to come prepared, with food, drinks, and some entertainment, otherwise it’s a long night. They usually take shifts to sleep, and only Robin and Nancy can manage it by themselves. “Do you think he gets bored in there?”

“Maybe,” Eddie muses, and accepts the mug she passes him. He never fully removes one hand from the gun though. Argyle is well restrained and their friend but there’s no guarantee he’d recognise them if he happened to get loose. “Maybe he wants to see the moon.”

“Do you think?” Chrissy asks and settles herself on the couch next to him. They commandeered it from the staff room late one night, even though there was significant uproar about where it had gone. They use it to nap, or to sit comfortably and watch Argyle pace the length of his cage. 

“I would,” Eddie says simply. “If you were like that…with nothing else to think about except to feed and to run, wouldn’t you want to be under the open sky?”

Chrissy pulls her legs up until her thigh rests comfortably against Eddie’s. She’s not afraid to admit she’s much happier being here than out there. It’s not the nicest of nights, with a cold wind blowing in and heavy clouds blocking the moon. The school can get creepy at night and their friend currently has teeth bigger than a great white shark’s, but there’s light and sandwiches from the deli and tomorrow morning Argyle will be Argyle again. 

“That does sound better,” she says. But they can never let that happen - unchecked, a werewolf has no instincts, personality, or morals of the person inside of it. Argyle has never tried to attack any of them outright but they can’t say for certain that the rest of Hawkins would be so safe. 

“Maybe it’s not a werewolf,” Eddie says, as though he’s read her mind. “Maybe there’s something else out there. Chupacabra. They eat goats, don’t they?”

“It’s cows being attacked,” Chrissy says fondly. God, she loves him so much, even like this, in a dingy basement, sharing a thermos of tea. “Not goats.”

“Variety,” Eddie says easily and elbows her in the ribs. “Not even you could eat cheeseburgers for every meal.”

“Goat burgers,” Chrissy whispers. She has homework to do, a copy of Hamlet sitting in her book bag but this is better. 

In his cage Argyle begins to growl. Chrissy sits up to look at him, wondering what’s upset him when there’s a strange crash from over their heads. 

“What was that?” Chrissy asks, reaching out for Eddie’s free hand. He’s staring up at the ceiling, mouth set in a tense line. 

“Don’t know,” he says shortly. “No one else should be here. And I doubt that it was a raccoon breaking in.”

“Could be one of the others,” Chrissy suggests and they both turn to look at the silent walkie-talkie. They don’t need to say the obvious - that if one of the others was on their way back to the school, someone would have let them know.

“Argyle wouldn't growl like that if it was one of us,” Eddie adds, fingers curling around the gun. While they can’t exactly sit in a room with an uncaged Argyle in his wolf form, he’s often calmer around someone from their group, easily recognizing their sounds and smells. Chrissy likes to think that it’s proof a little bit of their friend is still in there. “Stay here.”

“You can’t go up there by yourself,” Chrissy whispers furiously. Eddie just shakes his head. 

“I’m not having you go upstairs if it is dangerous,” he counters and passes her the gun. “Take this. I’ll take the other one. Shoot anything that comes through the door.”

Chrissy wants to protest again but she knows it’s a losing battle. He’s intent on going up and going alone. 

He takes the backup gun and tucks a flare and a knife into his belt. They keep a weapons chest down here for emergencies, the overflow of whatever they can’t hide in the library. 

Chrissy grips the gun, feeling terrified even in the bright light. It almost makes her feel more exposed, a bright beacon for whoever has just arrived. 

Argyle just growls furiously in his cage, truly rattled by whoever has just arrived. She watches him for a moment, indecision swirling around her gut. 

If even Argyle is spooked, then whatever has just entered the building must be dangerous. Eddie’s right and she shouldn’t go up there. 

But it’s dangerous and Eddie is up there. 

She swings the gun over her shoulder, grabbing the other flare from the kit. “Stay here,” she throws over her shoulder, as though Argyle has a say in the matter. He just snarls and snaps at the wire of his cage. 

She makes her way slowly up to the main floor, creeping along in darkness. They usually hide themselves down below while it’s still daylight and Murray can get them in through the side door. They’re locked in until morning, when they need to change clothes, unlock Argyle and make their way upstairs in time for class. Everything is pitch black and Chrissy isn’t sure whether having a torch would be a blessing or a curse right now. 

The main hall is empty when she finally emerges, having taken each step painfully slowly, gripping onto the banister for dear life. She pauses, gently sliding the door shut, straining to hear either Eddie or the intruder.

But she hears nothing, so she’s going to have to go in deeper. 

She creeps along the hallway and her heart pounds at every shadow. The darkness distorts the faces of the cheerleaders on an audition poster when she passes by, her own face almost unrecognizable. The red emergency lights do not help, she thinks with a shudder. 

But she makes her way down the hall unimpeded, until she meets the cross section. She pauses, hoping for a sign of which way to go. Left takes her to the gym, right is to the cafeteria and straight ahead will take her to more classrooms. 

But the school stays silent, so she keeps on her path. 

Halfway down the hallway, accompanied only by the tomb-like appearance of the lockers flanking her on either side, she briefly debates calling for Eddie. But she’s afraid of giving her position away, well aware that girls drawing attention to themselves are the first people to get killed by the ax murderer. 

The first thing she sees out of the ordinary is scattered debris lying across her path. She steps carefully over it, squinting down at each item. A textbook, a notepad, a comb…it looks like ordinary items from someone’s bag…or locker. 

There’s a large jagged mark across the metal, one of the doors ripped off its hinges and left to sway in the night. The contents have clearly been scattered across the floor but for what purpose, Chrissy doesn’t know. She runs a finger along the rip, trying to imagine the size of whatever might have done this. Unfortunately it’s all too easy to imagine a large werewolf claw, easily slotting into the scar. 

But there’s something else too, something brightly colored and soft, caught in the hinge of the lock. She pulls it out and rubs it between her fingers, feeling fabric. 

A noise pulls her away from her thoughts, the sound of pounding feet. It’s no surprise when she sees Eddie racing down the hallway towards her, face too panicked to be angry that she left the basement. 

“Run!” Eddie shouts and snatches up her hand as he races by. Chrissy lets herself be pulled along, not even questioning what he’s running from. Those are the rules of staying alive - if you see someone running, don’t ask questions, just go. 

They only make it a few feet down the hallway when she hears it - the deep, heavy breathing, the scrabble of claws on the tiles. She grits her teeth and runs, the gun bouncing against her back as she goes. Eddie appears to have lost his somewhere, a large bruise forming on his cheek, and she dreads to think about what might have happened. 

They run, without even needing to talk, back towards the basement door. It’s going to be a close race and it’s only the creature’s claws struggling for purchase against the floor that gives them an edge. Chrissy’s seen werewolves run before, and knows that no human could keep up. They need the security of the heavy basement door, and to stay there until sunrise. 

The open door comes into sight, and Eddie pushes himself even harder, long legs eating up the distance easily. He grabs hold of the handle and shoves Chrissy down the steps ahead of him.

She only sees it for a second - the large, shaggy outline of a werewolf, yellow eyes glowing brightly, mouth open in a hungry snarl. Sometimes during the full moon, she thinks she can see some of Argyle in his wolfy eyes, just a little glimmer of humanity, but there’s none of that here. Just moon and teeth and blood. 

Eddie swings the door closed, shutting them off from the werewolf. They hastily throw all of the bolts (no one has ever questioned why their basement door has so many locks, on both sides) and both flinch as something very large and heavy flings its body against the door. 

They wait in the dark, reaching out silently for the other’s clammy hands. Something sniffs curiously outside and scratches furiously at the door. But it’s a heavy steel fire door and it’s not moving in a hurry. 

After what feels like an eternity, the shadow visible underneath the crack disappears, until they can hear the click of claws heading away from them. Chrissy slumps down onto the top step, feeling exhausted from the unexpected run for her life. 

“Are there any windows into the basement?” Eddie asks, his voice soft. Chrissy shakes her head. It was something that they’d made sure of, when they’d decided to use the basement for Argyle’s wolf time. 

“No,” she says. “I think we’re safe.” But whether either of them will sleep is another matter. She reaches out and touches the shredded sleeve of his t-shirt. He catches hold of her fingers when he sees her concern. 

“From when I fell over,” he says ruefully. He lifts his sleeve to show her the bruise, but there’s no bite, no scratches. “I found it in the cafeteria, possibly looking for food. I tried to get away but I tripped. I shot at it but I think I missed.” 

That explains the lack of a gun. Who knows how they’ll retrieve that tomorrow before people start flooding into the school.

“How did you get away?” Chrissy asks, heart in her throat at the idea of that thing mauling Eddie to pieces, while she sat in the basement, unaware. He strokes her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“It cut me off from going back the way I came,” he said. “So I went through the kitchen and out that way towards the staff-room. I had to light my flare…I think I slowed it down a bit. Maybe we should look for someone with a burn tomorrow.” He’s making a joke, trying to lighten the mood but Chrissy’s blood runs cold as she remembers what she picked up. She digs in her pocket, searching for the tiny fragment she’d had in her hand before Eddie had arrived. 

It’s a scrap of fabric, something painfully familiar. Chrissy stares at the Hawkins Tigers green and feels sick. 

“I think someone on the basketball team is a werewolf,” she whispers, as deep in the depths of the basement, Argyle begins to howl.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

sex etiquette, free therapy & sincericide (david 8 x reader)

summary: David has many skills built into his design. Luckily for (y/n), trying is one of them.

warnings: swearing, nakedness, mentions of smut, slight angst, fluff

words: 1.0k

notes: hiii. i missed writing for him. could be read as a continuation to love or trust, or a standalone. either way i hope you enjoy x

David is oddly amusing after sex. He will awkwardly, although conceptually contradictory to his unhuman nature, walk to the bathroom and just stay there for a whole minute. Then he will come back — still without a word —, with his perfect naked body only illuminated by the low blue light in (y/n)’s quarters and frozen blue eyes that advert from hers at any cost. And it’s in that moment her gaze meets his, briefly, that sometimes she wonders if he ever regrets paying her those visits at night. 

Ever since the crew awakened, (y/n) couldn’t help but notice the difference of treatment David displayed between her and their colleagues. It was as subtle as a lingering touch whenever he brought her tea, or as blatant as his toothy smile directed at her whilst she studied some coordinates for the next expedition. Either way, it simply seemed impossible to escape the android’s overwhelming attention over herself. He hovered like a heavy cloud, but caused its opposite effect on the girl with his somewhat disconcerting warm presence. So, it was only natural their acquaintance would grow to be more intimate as time went on, resulting on that strange, casual relationship of theirs. 

It didn’t have a name or a clear goal. For now, (y/n) enjoyed his company — and his bedside manners, of course — very much and enough to want him around even after having sex. And that’s why his alien demeanour bothered her so much. Granted, this time she just had to speak up.  

“You always do that”, she muses. 

Sitting right next to her on the bed, mimicking the way her body is inclined on the headboard, David looks up at last. He has a neutral expression that turns into light confusion, flexing his eyebrows. “Always do what?” 

“You stand there, quiet, distant, as if you weren’t almost fucking me through a wall just now”, her tone is obviously comic, but it doesn’t seem to affect David that much. “I’m just kidding, by the way.” 

“I know”, he says, not really showing any sign of contempt. But then again, he never really did. His blonde hair is dishevelled and (y/n) puts it on place, causing him to flash her a smile before continuing, “and I am aware I have quite a lot to learn about sex etiquette.” 

“It’s more than that and you know it, David.” 

He frowns. “I don’t follow.” 

“Are you afraid?”, she then asks, taking a deep breath when the crease on his forehead only thickens. “Of us? Of me? Does this thing we have... I don’t know, frighten you?” 

His faint smile flutters a bit as his eyes travel the room. “I wouldn’t say fright. I believe I am incapable of experiencing such thing, as it is not in my design”, as low as his voice is, she can hear him clearly, yet his tone gives her nothing to consider. David is just plain about things, and although (y/n) appreciated his honesty, in that moment she only felt annoyed by it. Noticing her sour face, David inquires, “have I upset you with my words?” 

“Not really”, she shrugs, but fails to convince him of her lie. The girl sighs in defeat, closing her eyes for a second. “I just... I can’t understand how you can do what you do with me, hold me close, kiss me so passionate, and tell me that this is all just part of your design. It is not. I can’t... I can’t accept that.” 

“That is not what I meant, and you didn’t let me finish my sentence.” 

“So finish it.” 

 “You don’t frighten me, but I must admit I am uncertain of this relationship”, David explains, gazing intently at her. “You are aware of my limitations. I am not human, and I can’t provide you with the fulfilment a male of your species would and that which you probably will need, eventually. Emotional and physical wise.” 

(y/n) only hums in thought, nodding once. She then opens up her bathrobe, revealing her naked body to his eyes one more time. “What do you think when you look at me?”, she offers him a small grin, caressing her own curves as she waits for his answer. Some of his liquid remains still ran down her inner thighs and it almost aroused her again, but she contained herself. That question was important. 

David’s eyes scan her up and down as he states with a gravelly voice, “I think about having you for myself forever.” 

There is pause, and her insides burn with his words. (y/n) then scoffs, shaking her head as she covers herself again. “David, you can’t say things like that.” 

With genuinely curious eyes, he retorts, “why?” 

“Because I am alone in this giant piece of metal floating in middle of space for two years. And then you tell me this. How am I supposed to react?”  

“I simply responded your inquiry, (y/n)”, he mumbles, and there is no indignation to his voice. It is collected as ever, although his confused expression just gave way to a slightly more concerned one. “I don’t see how I could help your feelings, and I am truly sorry for that. However, perhaps... I could try.”  

“You can’t, David”, (y/n) sighs, taking his hand into her own. His pale fingers instantly curl against hers and she can’t hide a sad smile looking at them. “Nobody can, I guess. I’m just using you as my free therapist at this point, that’s all.”  

David stares at her for a moment and simply nods. “Do continue, then.”  

She shakes her head, another bitter smile painting her lips as she does so. “You know what? Forget I ever said anything, you’re right. You can’t and shouldn’t have to help me. Let’s just fuck again and call it a night.”  

David stops (y/n) halfway when she tries to straddle his body, raising his brows in a quick realization. “But I want to”, he whispers, squeezing her arms as he holds her in place. He then lets her continue to move onto his hips, pulling her close enough to feel her hot breath against his mouth. David grins at the surprise spread on her features, brushing their lips together, “do you?” 

They kiss, eventually, and his tongue takes her places (y/n) didn’t think were possible in the middle of nowhere. His embrace around her waist gives only enough room for her to catch her breath, before she rests her forehead over his. 

“Try me.” 

[elenadvrx]

Requesting reader and nanami handing out candy to trick or treaters 🤓

heya! thanks for the request!

just a little note: i don't celebrate halloween so i've never done trick or treating, but i hope this turns out well and you enjoy it!

(apologies for the delay asdfdfien was caught up with real life matters boohoo)

enjoy! ◡̈

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

you're nervous.

biting your nails, you pace back and forth in the living room while the hustle and bustle of kids going door to door, excitedly asking for candies is ongoing in your neighbourhood.

it's your first time doing trick or treating and you're nervous you'll mess it up somehow — stuttering your words, dropping the candies as you're handing them over or even running out of them! oh no, what if you run out of candies?

"sweetheart, it'll be fine. we just need to hand out candies if anyone rings the bell. sit down and relax with me, yeah?"

you look over at your husband, nanami, sprawled out on the sofa with an amused smile. he has been observing you for the past five minutes, worrying over nothing. how cute.

"but what if we ran out of candies? the kids will be disappointed a-and i'd feel bad, kento" you've gone back to pacing before–

ding! "trick or treats!"

oh no, no you're not ready yet, the–

"sweetheart?" nanami cupped your face in his hands, directing you to look at him. "breathe. you'll be fine. we'll be fine. just smile and give them the treats, and they'll be on their merry way."

kissing your forehead, he direct you to your front door with a hand placed on the small of your back.

yeah, okay. smile and give out treats. smile and give out treats. easy enough.

nanami swings open the door to reveal a group of kids with an age range from four to six years old, each of them wearing an outfit of different disney princesses. so cute!

"hello! who do we have here? we have princesses gracing us with their presence! would you like some candies and chocolates?" you crouched down to get closer to their height and interacted with them. seeing their toothy grins and energetic selves, you felt at ease.

giving each of them a handful of treats, you waved them goodbye as they run happily towards their parents to head to the next house.

"that turned out great." hands on your hips, you look towards nanami with a satisfied hum. he was already looking at you affectionately, a soft smile on his face.

"see, you have nothing to worry about. you're a natural. we just need to do this till our treats runs out." he tugs you into your home, a hand soothing and caressing your back before heading to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for you.

sipping the water, you sit down on the sofa to finally relax from your prior nerves. as nanami sits down next to you, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling content that you're able to do these things with your beloved.

the rest of the night goes smoothly where the both of you would coo over the small kids in their outfits. teenagers and adults would also come asking for treats, laughing as you see how some of them would dress in a funny manner.

then, after all your treats run out, the both of you cuddled together on your bed. laying on top of your husband, you let out a satisfied sigh as you let yourself think about tonight.

"i'm so lucky to have you with me, kento. i love you." you finish your sentence with a sweet peck on his cheek.

"i love you, sweetheart. i love doing things with you. and uh-" he cleared his throat, seemingly hesitant to say his next words. at that, you peeped up at him to observe his expressions. your narrow your eyes at him — is it just you or does his cheeks seem to look a little darker in the moonlight?

"you uh– you looked good when you were interacting with the kids. radiant even, when you smile and and when you laugh. i can't help but think of you doing the same when we have our own children. do you… i'm ready, if you're ready." he whispered the last part, afraid of what your answer might be.

"kento, darling, yes!" flustered, but happy nonetheless, you peppered kisses all over his face which gradually becomes warmer, feeling bashful from your affections.

"i'm ready to build a family with you." you hug him tightly, burrowing your face on his chest.

chuckling, nanami drops a kiss to the top of your head. "i'm ready to build a future with you, sweetheart."

[askspookyfox]

Wow, my artist, my guy, thanks for a whole lotta nothing for 3 years. It's a'ight. It's fine. Cool cool cool cool. Don't worry my sinners, I do still exist! Imma try to make plans to make a dramatic return and have an explaination for everything, but the timing just isn't quite right. Those of you who still watch this blog, I 'presh you. ✌️ Until then, I hope y'all been taking good care of October in my absence (and by 'good care', I mean annoy the heck outta her, heh).

Mod Mutt: Heeeeeyyy.... So... 'Bout droppin that ball that I mentioned in my last post... Three years, huh? My bad, y'all. 😅

As it was stated in that post, I had some serious financial priorities that I needed a second job that demanded a lot of my free time (thanks student loans, always a blast whenever you sap up a third of my paycheck every month 👍👍👍). As of 2023, even though some things are new in my life, I’m still technically in the same situation as I was back in 2020. It’s really hard to have the energy and motivation to do art in general and when I do, I usually couldn’t do more than a sketch before I tuck it away and don’t finish. I’m knee deep in a burn-out, stuck in a cycle of working two jobs and taking care of adulting shit on my weekends. 

Honestly, I’m tired of living this way. 

I feel like a shell of who I used to be, giving my life to work. I miss the creativity that comes with art and telling stories. I adore watching my best friend do their October’s blog, year after year, and every year, I get the inspiration from them but lack the time to jump back into it. Such as this year, it’s just too late as we only have a week left in the month. 

However, if you’ll have me, as a New Year’s resolution for next year, I want to refocus back to art and sharing Spook’s stories and help Night push October’s storyline along with Spook’s help. If this means having to work on Spook posts once a week every week leading up to October 2024, then so be it! I can’t guarantee anything, I can’t make promises as life do still take priority, but I do have a lot of sketches and answers to your questions sitting in my computer, waiting to be completed, so who knows what you’ll see! For right now, please accept my apologies for literally disappearing on everyone in 2020. I want to do better and I want to bring Spook and all of his scary toothy sassiness back to you. Thank you to those who’s still around, I hope that you’ll come back in 2024.

Until then, stay spooky!

[drachonia]

𝐢 ’ 𝐦 𝐧 𝐨 𝐠 𝐨 𝐨 𝐝 .

Kinktober Day 29 Roger Barel x OC insert

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: amy winehouse songs are a blessing. playing with personalities with this one, hope you’ll forgive me if this seems a bit off. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @candiedcoffeedrops @candied-boys @natimiles (hope you like this one nati! <3) 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: bathtub sex, a hint of creampie, pretty vanilla this time.

There was little rest to be had when you were a villain. No rest for the wicked, evil never sleeps, the dead don’t rest…anything in that vein. All of them were definitely things that weighed on Roger as he got to cleaning up and replacing the sickbed that Jude had once again managed to leave a literal bloody mess. Sometimes — rarely but still, he thought once in awhile — the huntsman wondered what exactly made the stress, blood, and tears worth it. Just then a soft hum reached his ears and his nerves instantly calmed as he trained his ears on the noise that gave the same relaxation as a sweet birdsong.

“How many times do I love thee, dear? Tell me, how many thoughts there be in the atmosphere?” The soft voice carried him through the work of sterilizing his instruments for the next use, replacing the tools he needed to before he stored it all away safely. The gentle cadence seemed to lead him the same way Ale would be led by the scent of freshly smoked and dried jerky. It was the slightest bit funny to him that despite teasing her like a puppy, the tables had turned on him. Now he was like a loyal and loving companion to her just as much — if not more — than she was to him.

And he didn’t mind that one bit.

“…Of a new-fall'n year, whose white and sable hours appear…” he trotted up the large stairwell, a spring in each step that landed on it, eventually reaching the upper floor where the living quarters of crown resided. The softness of that voice grew louder in his ears as he smiled to himself a bit, hearing the faint splash and dripping of water the closer he got to her room.

“The latest flake of Eternity: So many times do I love thee, dear.” He took a step into her room, hearing that last line of verse come from the bathroom door left ajar. His fingers quietly pried the door open as she relaxed in the soapy water of the bath. His eyes took in the flushed look of pale skin with hair black as night, reaching down to cradle her chin and tilt back her head to look at him. Soft ruby lips parted slightly in surprise before lifting into a happy toothy smile.

“Y’know i didn’t expect your head to look this tiny when I grab you by the chin..” he chuckled, kneeling beside the bath and reaching his hand to grasp hers, threading big, calloused fingers with her full, gentle much smaller ones.

“Same as I didn’t expect you to come into a woman’s room with no warning, invitation, or greeting other than to simply shove your dirty hands in my bath.” She scolded lightly, his lips pressing to her ear, then her temple, then her cheek, then her neck, the light huff of a laugh finally escaping her.

“My lil’ lady could never be mad at me, could she?” His opposite hand drifted from its place on her neck to feel over her side beneath her arm and curl around to grip one breast, trailing a thumb over the swell as her breath hitched in her throat. The look of excitement in her eyes didn’t escape his watchful eyes, but he would let it slide this time. Her misty forest eyes flitted to the side as she sighed shakily, “Roger, if you’re not going to be of help with my bath, you can relax on the bed.” She huffed, closing her eyes and sinking into the bath with a sigh, only to hear the rustle of fabric and the clink of boots, suspenders and belts. Before she could properly scold her lover, he climbed into the tub across from her. His hand shot out and grasped her arm, gently tugging her forth through the suds and up into his lap, straddled across his bare hips and pressed to his broad chest.

“Now…I think we both deserve a bit of relaxation and recuperation tonight. And what better way to do that than this?” He purred next to her ear, Angeline’s body relaxing as her lover grasped her hips and guided them to his, her breath hitching as her folds caught on the swell of his tip, a curse passing her lips as Roger groaned in her ear, “Come on, lil’ beast, don’t you think we’ve both been stressed lately? Isn’t that why you’re in the bath?” He rumbled as his large hands grasped her breasts and palmed them slowly, drawing soft moans out of her as she lifted her hips and started to rub and tease the hood of her folds over him beneath the water, the resistance only making her want it more as she sunk down on him, earning a stream of curses from Roger in the process of her lowering the first inch inside.

“Roger..!” Her soft voice carried as the hunts man gripped her hips just below her abdomen, his hands gently coaxing her down his shaft as he continued to grunt softly, “Damn, you’re always so tight for me…” he moaned into her shoulder as he rutted his hips through the resistant water, eventually pushing every last inch inside as he arched his hips up with her atop his lap, the water sloshing a bit while he stroked a thumb over the space in her gut occupied by the faint outline of him through her skin, “You look scrumptious like that, filled up, you know that?” He rested his head against hers, eyes locked together as he buried his length in her over and over.

“Roger…! Roger!” She gasped, the water loudly splashing and dripping in the warm tub as he held her up, “Cum for me, lil’ lady, that’s it…” his voice strained as he felt his own orgasm build with how she throttled him inside her, her dark eyes watching his expression intently as she bounced in his lap, her tongue parting those pretty lips as she stared at him through lashes heavy with affection. Her body was practically made to counter his in almost every way as her soft pale skin pressed to his sun kissed tan, arms wrapping around his neck as she whined for him, coming undone in Roger’s lap with the huntsman following suit, pulsating inside as his warmth filled her with each pump of his hips up into her, “D-Damn…!” He cursed under his breath, cradling her cheeks in his hands as she caught her breath and looked into his eyes tenderly, “You’re downright sinful the way you cling to me, you know that?” She nodded, lightheaded but satisfied by it all, her fingers digging into his biceps as she leaned in to kiss him once more.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t make fun of me if I can just do…this.” She flicked her hips down on him as he grunted in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“S-Shit…my head’s spinning, don’t do that unless you wanna—fuck!” Roger hissed as her hips continued to make those quick but energetic snaps against his, sending the huntsman over the edge, “Fuck!” He gasped, grasping her lower back and squeezing the curve of her backside as he buried more of his seed into his ebony-haired companion, catching his breath with wide eyes, “That was downright sinful, lil’ lady…” he breathed as he rested his head against her shoulder, listening to her giggle above him, “Good. It makes me happy when you groan like that." Her hands cupped his cheeks tenderly, feeling her squeeze around him still, “How is it you always feel like a vice around me, eh?” He huffed, nuzzling into her shoulder, “It’s because — and I say this not to stroke your ego but nip it in the bud — you’re impossibly huge for me. Bastard.” She flicked his forehead with her thumb and forefinger, sitting back on his knees as he held her close.

“Yeah?” He grinned against her skin, wrapping an arm around her and pushing up with the other to climb out of the tub, a strangled moan leaving his partner as her walls shifted around him at the movement.

“Come on, let’s see how much of this ‘bastard’ you can take.” Her whines and the way her eyes pricked with tears of pleasure almost made him press her into the wall and have her there, but he’d wait until they reached the bed. She seemed to be rocking between that pleasured haze of passing out and the act of digging her nails into his skin so hard he swore he started bleeding down his back as he finally reached the bed, all but falling on top of her.

“Shit…” he hissed as he placed large hands on either side of her head, watching how the swell of her breasts lightly bounced each time he moved, leaning down to kiss and lap at her damp lashes, “I could get lost in how hot you feel wrapped around me, lil’ lady. Feels like I’ve been wrapped up in a furnace. Keep hugging me like that, that’s it.” Roger coaxed as his forehead rested against hers, his lower back curving in a slight downward arch only to snap his hips forward and drive deeper into her. The soft cries she gave under him were enough to keep him going long through the night to keep his lover’s body warm.

[verfound]

WIP Wednesday: 04.24.2024

So. So. About that Six Sentence Sunday...

Before you click the cut, I need y'all to remember two things: 1) I've already shared the first scene of Ch1. Y'all know who the real soulmates are. 2) It is always Lukanette Endgame 'round these parts. You guys trust me, right? Even when my Irish flares up? 😇 (...er. My Joss flares up?)

That being said...

“Excuse…oh my gosh, Luka???”

He looked up at the voice, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to place the voice. There was something familiar about it he couldn’t quite grasp, and when he partially closed his locker door to get a better look at the girl who had spoken seeing her didn’t help. She was pretty, sure, if you liked the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, preppy look. She also had a familiar face, but again that last degree of connection escaped him. Her eyes were wide and sparkling as she stared at him, though, and her hands were clasped over her chest. Her mouth had also dropped open.

“Oh my gosh, it is you!” she gasped, her mouth curling into a pearly-toothed smile. It was a celebrity smile, one he recognized all too well. One he was seeing more and more of his classmates settle into the longer they studied at the prestigious Saint-Saëns. “I didn’t realize you applied here!”

“Do…I know you?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he searched for a connection — any connection — to the girl in the blue dress beside him. Her smile slipped a…lot, actually. Her entire presence seemed to deflate with his question.

“…no, I suppose you wouldn’t,” she said, her voice soft and sad. “We went to Dupont together. Different homerooms, but we had some classes together. I…kind of had a huge crush on you. Actually…”

She looked around the locker room nervously before leaning in. She glanced up at him with hopeful eyes that had him instinctively leaning back.

“Can we talk? Alone?” she whispered.

“Uh…” he started, but then her smile was back and she was grabbing his arm.

“Great!” she said, and the next thing he knew she had hauled him out of the locker room, down the hall, and into one of the empty practice rooms. She turned back to him with another wide, toothy smile, and the next thing he knew she was sticking her arm out at him. “I’ve been dying to show you this for ages.”

Dark blue words — a dark blue word, one single, solitary word — was stamped across her otherwise bare forearm.

Here.

And he’d thought his words were nondescript…

The longer he stood there, staring at her arm, the more her smile fell.

“You…don’t remember, do you?” she asked.  He looked up in shock, his eyebrows lifting, and she sighed as she brought her arm back to herself.  “It was…it was your first day at school.  Mlle. Mendeleieev handed out those worksheets, and you turned to pass the stack to me, and you said…”

“…here,” he whispered, and her eyes closed as a shiver raced through her.  She nodded, a warm smile on her face.

“And I said thank you,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if that same blissful euphoria — the acknowledgment of it’s you, finally — also washed through him or if that chill was just shock.  “I didn’t notice it at first.  I was auditioning for the weather girl competition back then, so I was in costume all the time.  I wore my raincoat everywhere, since not all of our teachers let me carry the umbrella indoors.  So I didn’t notice it at first, and then I wasn’t sure, but…I know it’s you, Luka.”

“…h-how?” he asked, like an idiot, but really.  How had she known for so long and said…nothing?  How could she be so sure?

“I just…I felt so drawn to you, and that moment is so clear in my memory,” she sighed.

It wasn’t in his.

He barely remembered the girl who had been sitting behind him, or the words muttered to each other.  Not like he had always so clearly remembered other aspects of that day, like libraries and books and a deeper set of blue eyes and…

…but she knew his words.

Nobody knew his words.

Well…nobody except his sister.  And Rose.  And his parents.  And Marinette.

He didn’t make a habit of advertising them.

“So…you’re saying we’re…” he started, his mouth suddenly dry.  She took his hand, but there were no sparks racing up his arm.  No calm reassurance that yes, it’s you, I’ve found you, finally.  Shouldn’t he be feeling…something?

He just felt numb.

“Soulmates,” she sighed dreamily.  He felt himself nod.

“Ok.  Cool.  You’re my soulmate, er…” he looked up, frowning, and she giggled as she flashed another one of those screen-ready smiles at him.

“Aurore,” she said, holding her hand out by his face, like she expected him to kiss it or something.  He took her fingers in his hand and brought it down to shake, nodding.  Her smile slipped at that.

“Right,” he said.  “Aurore.”

[askthechronoverse]

Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

It felt like the day was going by at the perfect pace for the child who just wanted to spend time out of the classroom. It didn't seem to take too long before Kit was sitting in a stuffy room with a humanoid sheepdog sitting at a large desk, waiting for the students to settle down. With a clearing of her throat, the students were silenced. The dog headed woman stood and grabbed some chalk.

"Alright, class. Now that you have settled, we'll get to the most important lesson of the year: Queen Wa'nabi's original wedding and the Battle for Syspocalypstar. We have a special guest to talk about that today." She slammed a paw on an old looking monitor on wheels with a brand new webcam mounted on top. Glowing crystals could be seen poking out of the back. With the rough push of a button, static slowly revealed a man with neat and tidy mousy brown hair and a toothy grin that could disarm anyone. 

"Hello, everyone! Sorry I can't be there in person, but I made time to talk to you all about how weeeee…." His eyes fell on a point that only Kit really knew was her. His pupils shrank and he grabbed at his collar. "Sorry. It's really stuffy here. Uh, can I-" With a glance out to something off screen, his demeanor changed to one of uneasy confidence. "Looks like the air conditioner finally kicked in! Alrighty! So, I'll give a rundown of what happened." He took a breath and began to describe the events of that evening. There were parts of it he barely could tell, voice shaking and words unsure. He painted a picture of tragedy and a journey to overcome what was thought to be a great threat. It was something that even the students who were slacking off on their phones could feel. It was towards the end that he took a breath and uttered the words he hoped never to have to say in front of Kit.

"The man who ran the whole show, who led me to do what I did, he called himself Rex Dangervest. He doesn't call himself that anymore and doesn't like talking about what he did when he was called that." He took another breath and fell silent for a moment. "He later became something awesome and saved the Unikingdom from some bad people. But that isn't -" A soft chime rang out throughout the room. 

"Looks like class is dismissed.” The teacher said unenergetically as she gathered her things in preparation for the flood of children leaving the room.

“Hey, Kit, can you stay behind for a sec? I need to ask you something." Emmet shouted this over the sound of stampeding children heading to the next learning opportunity. 

"Sure, Uncle Emmet." The class quickly emptied, save for the man on the monitor and the girl with the unicorn headband. Emmet spoke after a long pause.

"How much of that did you know?" The man sounded exhausted and hesitant. “I'm sorry if this is the first time you've heard this side of the story.”

"It isn't." The girl admitted. "I overheard you and Aunt Lucy talk about something my dad did and when I asked Papa, he said that he did something he regretted, that he never wanted to talk about." She kicked the well cared for hardwood floor. "Dad really caused Armommageddeon?"

"Yeah… Your dad was in a lot of pain back then. He was angry. He let his emotions cloud his mind to the point where he couldn't see any other solution. None of us wanted to tell you about this, though I guess it was only going to be a matter of time. He just… he doesn't want you to think that you or your other dad are in any danger around him. He loves you so much. That's just not how he is right now." Emmet's voice started shaking again.

"That's why all of this is confusing me. That's not what my daddy is like. I'm honestly starting to wonder how much… how much more they're keeping from me." Kit sat on the nearest desk, head in her hands.

"Whatever your parents haven't told you, I'm sure they have a good reason… Are you going to be okay? Do you need me to order you anything?" Emmet looked down, worry clouding his face.

"I'm… I may just go home. Or I guess to my daddy's office." Kit’s face was pale.

"Whatever you need, Kit. I'll send a text to your dad to let him know that you're coming." Kit just shrugged and went to grab her things. She looked down, not noticing that Bellamy was leaning against the wall by the door, waiting for her.

"Did I hear ya right? Ya aren't feeling well?" Bellamy held out a canvas first aid kit for Kit to take. "Here. I'm sure I have something in this."

"You don't have answers in that bag. Only my dad has those." She grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. Bellamy rushed after her, wings a blur behind her. 

"Then I gotta come with." They were by her side in the blink of an eye, backpack on their back from out of nowhere. "Remember: where you go, I should go. Besides, all I have is free research period. And so do you. We aren't missing anything."

"As long as you won't get in trouble with your parents, let's go. I think the next shuttle should be on its way soon anyway." As predicted, a shuttle bus that looked like the monarch who ruled the kingdom stopped at the school. Both Kit and Bellamy flashed colorful bus passes when they passed the driver and the two sat close to the middle. 

It didn't take long before Royal Purple Road and the headquarters of the Royal Chrononauts was in sight. Kit marched through the door, ignoring everything to head for a door marked 'Commander's office' on a brass plaque above the doorframe. Bellamy was like a shadow behind her.

"Daddy? We need to talk about something." She didn't seem to notice that her father's office was a complete mess or that her father was under the desk attempting to grab paperwork and the broken remnants of a picture frame.

"Kitten? What are you doing here so early? Be careful! There's broken glass everywhere." He got up from his position under the desk and was by her side in an instant, checking her over for any broken glass or signs of illness. "Are you feeling okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm doing fine, Daddy, but I want to talk to you about your past." Something about the way Kit spoke and the way she held herself made RJ back off. "I just found out in school. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Kit…" RJ sat on a comfortable chair that was set off to the side so he could clean better. Before he did this, he shut the office door in Bellamy's face. "I guess it was only a matter of time before you found out. I would have thought Emmet would have let something slip, but learning about it in a history class would be the second most likely thing." He shifted in the chair. "I was trying to protect you… or maybe I was trying to forget it all myself. That's far in my past and… I hate myself for doing it."

“You're not making a lot of sense.” He shrugged as he sank further in the chair. "That's still a really big thing to not tell me."

"I know. I know. I didn't keep this from you because I didn't trust you, never think that. I can try to be more open now." RJ brushed some papers off his large office chair, which was placed next to him and patted the seat. Kit cautiously sat down.

"I'm… I don't understand why you would do something like that. What about Papa? Didn't you think about Papa at all?"

"Your father and I didn't meet until after that ordeal. If it wasn't for your father, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. Certainly not this, that's for sure. I'll put it this way: anger is like walking around with thick poisonous fog all around you. You can't see what you're doing, but you're hurting everyone and everything around you. Including yourself. Especially yourself. I needed everyone I know here to bring me back to where I am today. I needed your Uncle Emmet and Aunt Lucy to show me that what my anger was making me think was wrong." RJ's voice was soft and almost mournful.

"You're talking like you were all alone." Kit adjusted her headband.

"I was. Or at least I thought I was. Kit, what you probably aren't going to hear from a history lesson is that I spent years being told I wasn't special, that I wasn't strong or brave enough to do anything heroic. I spent years in isolation with only those thoughts in my head. By the time I decided to do what I did, I thought I had nothing left to lose. I just needed to have my problems just go away." 

"Should I be sorry I asked?" Kit continued to fidget with her headband.

"No. I'm glad the truth came out and you aren't mad at me. You can be mad at me, by the way. Both your Papa and I taught you that you shouldn't lie." 

"Well… I'm not happy with you. I do feel like you and Papa lied to me."

"And that's okay. That's perfectly healthy and I'm not going to tell you you're wrong to feel that way." RJ got to his feet. "I'm sure you see me differently now. That's also okay."

"I know you're telling the truth now. I can tell from how nervous you got." Kit picked up the paperwork around her and handed it to her dad. "What happened in here? Did you get angry?"

"Since we're being honest today, I don't know what happened. Doc and PC walked into the office this morning and the whole place was torn apart. Nothing came up on the security cameras as far as we know. We just know that it looks like someone was looking for something." RJ took the paperwork, thanked her, then threw it all on his desk. "Have you talked to your uncle recently?" Kit lifted an eyebrow. That question came out of the blue. "Is that who told you about my past?" The teenager nodded. "I need to talk to your uncle. I would rather you wait outside in the lobby, but we won't be talking about you. You're not in any trouble." 

"Okay. I'll wait outside." She left the room and closed the door, but quickly grabbed a cup from the water cooler. She leaned against the door, the cup between the door and her ears. Bellamy opened their beak to comment, but Kit put a finger to her mouth.

"Ems, I'm not calling about that. She was going to find out about my Dangervest persona anyway. I wish it was from me, but whatever. At least it wasn't from one of those teachers in New Bricksburg. No, someone broke into my office last night. We really didn't catch much of anything on camera, but something awoke a distant memory in the footage. Something vague that I just can't tell you where I saw it. A dark shadow came through a portal. It looked almost like a-"

"Didn't expect to see you here so soon, little sis!" The sound of Puppycorn's deep and almost regal voice cut through Kit's concentration. Kit quickly hid the cup and flashed a sheepish grin.

"I was let out early," Was all the girl uttered. The big dog grinned, his curly tail moving at blinding speeds. 

"Awesome! It's always good to see ya!" He bounded around Kit, his excitement fueling his energy. "Do you wanna help me clean up the lab? Dr. Fox needs a lot of help there.”

“Hang on, I gotta-” Before Kit could listen in any further, RJ opened the front door.

“Kitten, I still have work to do around here. This place is a mess. Do me a favor an’ go to the marketplace to hang out or somethin’?” The glare Kit shot at him gave him pause. “I’m not hiding anything from you. I don’t even know what’s happening right now.”

“What did you ask my uncle?” Kit asked incredulously.

“I asked him if he remembered something that could help me figure things out. He couldn’t. I don’t know why I can. I’ll tell you everything once I know. Please. Be patient.” Like her uncle, RJ’s voice was shaking. Something was bothering him. She reached out to hold her dad’s hand and he took it. “I know you’re still mad at me. But please. Go with Bellamy to the castle or something. I’ll take you out for pizza later.” Bellamy grabbed Kit, threw her over their shoulder, and gave a quick bow, rushing out the door. They didn’t stop until the Unikingdom castle was in sight.

“Bellamy! We need to go back.” Kit was set down unceremoniously, but floated just a few inches off the ground before she touched the grass. “Dad is either lying again or scared of something. I can’t tell.” She remained afloat and started to head back to the road. Bellamy grabbed her by the hood of her hoodie. “Let me go!”

“Sorry, Kay. I got to go by your dad's orders." Bellamy pulled Kit towards her. "Let's get some tea with the Queen and my dad and let your dad clean up the office. He can clean this mess up later." Kit reluctantly went with Bellamy towards the castle.

RJ leaned against the broom he held and shook his head. Why did Kit have to find out about his past today?  He put his broom away, turning to Doctor Fox and Puppycorn. "Did they take anything?"

"They destroyed our puddlehopper, RJ." Doctor Fox shook her head in utter disbelief. "The flux capacitor that was in the time drive is irreparable. It's going to take us months to get back into optimal working conditions." She handed him the shattered remnants of the flux capacitor. He played with the pieces in his hand.

"The flux capacitor? Could that uptight doctor or his assistant be the ones responsible?" RJ muttered to himself. "Nah. Doubtful. They seemed too straight edge to me." He turned to the others. "Let's check the complaints box tomorrow for potential vandals. I can't rule out that someone hated our services… or me… that they wanted to destroy our work." He patted Puppycorn on the head. "I need to make sure I didn't just lose my baby girl because…"

"You have an acute aversion to conversing with others about your past mistakes and how they affect you in the present?" Doctor Fox finished the sentence. RJ nodded. "Go to her. I know how much she means to you." The man shoved his hands in his pockets and moved slowly towards his truck. 

By the time RJ got to the castle, Bellamy and Kit were playing tag with Hawkodile under a large and unknowingly old cherry tree. The adult chimera stopped and headed for his student. He towered over him, waiting for a respectful bow. The bow was reciprocated with a stern look.

"RJ. Kit told me about what happened this afternoon." RJ looked down to the grass at those words. "I don't like that reaction. Did you ransack your own office?"

"Oh. I thoughtcha were givin' me that look because I kept my past from her." He rubbed his neck. "Nah. I still can't figure out what happened there. I have never seen a portal that looked like the one I saw in the security footage."

"You saw a portal?" Hawkodile scratched under his beak. "Did it look like any of the portals you and Scarlett make? Maybe your future self turns rogue or something."

"No. I've never seen a portal like this before. Or at least, I don't think I have. It's strange, but I feel like that portal is unlocking a memory I pushed deep within my mind. Something that happened when I was younger, when I was still Emmet." RJ looked over to where his daughter was playing. "Whatever that memory is, it scares me to my core. Grab Kit and R and hide in the distant past scared." He kept looking over to Kit, who eventually made eye contact and started heading over.

"She is still upset about being in the dark about your past. Show her that you have nothing left to hide now." Hawkodile moved over to his child, holding her close.

Kit soon stood in front of her dad, looking up with her arms folded. Her eyes held an expectation, pressing and almost judgmental.

"Kit, I'm sorry. I should have been more upfront with you when you got older. You were going to learn eventually, but you should have learned that from me. Don't be too mad with your old man." His apology was answered with a hug and a less stern look from his daughter. "I'm glad you're not too mad with me. Let's go get something to eat."

"Did you find out what happened in your office?" The question felt like a test to RJ. Was a child even allowed to test their parent like this? 

"No. We need to figure out who could have trashed the place." He paused as he opened the passenger side truck door for Kit. "I'll keep ya up to date. Promise. No more secrets." This seemed to please Kit, as there was a spring in her float as she jumped into the truck.

[narrans]

56). "If you ever compare them to vermin again, I'll beat the shit outta you!"

PROMPT

56). "If you ever compare them to vermin again, I'll beat the shit outta you!"

Humans can be wonderful, giving, accepting creatures. They can shine a light in the darkest of times, providing aid and stability to those who need it. They provide hope to the hopeless, meals to the hungry, and endure the most wicked and unfortunate of circumstances if it is for someone they love.

Perhaps that’s why they could justify treating us so poorly…

Their kindness simply ran out.

Their tolerance could only go so far.

The cruelty built up and needed a place to vent like steam from a compression chamber.

We - that is… us pets - are not human, even though the only thing that makes us different is our size. Pets are, in essence, much smaller humans, the tallest of us reaching only six-and-a-half or so inches tall - and that was saying something. I, myself, am a solid five and a fifth inches tall, but who is counting?

Certainly not my so-called owners.

They could care less about me with the way they treated me before discarding me – literally. Up until that point, I had never known that humans could be decent creatures.

I remember like it was yesterday when everything really began. After being trained and “properly conditioned,” I was sold to one family as a birthday present for a little girl as her first pet. It was terrifying. Instead of a gerbil or fish, they picked me.

Little did I know it was going to only get worse there for several years.

The girl who “owned” me was a brat through and through. Her screams were ear shattering, but her tendency to hit whatever wasn’t cooperating was far worse. The bruises on my body left me a purple-yellow lump most days. I lost count of how long I was with them honestly.

It wasn’t until she broke my arm, however, that she decided to show me the only mercy I had ever received from her, but it was far from that at the time.

She threw me away.

She tossed me into that odorous hot pink tin can lined in thick black bags.

“Audrey! Please! Don’t do this. I-I-I-I’ll get better. Just…”

“Broken toys go in the trash. You are broken. So, you go in the trash. Good-bye.”

The lid snapped shut and, in a moment, I was plunged into darkness which lasted for hours. The last thing I saw were here dark eyes and wide toothy grin.

Haunting.

She was ten. She should’ve known better. No. She did know better and chose to do the wrong thing.

I slipped into unconsciousness from pain after trying several times to climb and claw my way out of the bag among the various snack bags that were half eaten. It was a miracle I didn’t slip into shock, because the next thing I knew was that I was being jostled around, taken out with the rest of the trash.

I tried shouting, but nothing happened; at least, nothing happened until the bag was still for a few more hours. While in the dark expanse of the bag, I felt another massive jostle again before the inside was flooded with light.

I remember my eyes adjusting just in time to see two pale green eyes widen before the impending digits of doom reached in after me. Trapped at the bottom of the bag and trying to protect my injured arm, I snapped out of my trance. I tried getting away and managed to land a solid punch on his finger, which, to my surprise, made his fingers retract.

“Woah, you’re alive?” he said in awe. My stomach churned as it sank into my hard plastic shoes. I remember kicking myself, thinking if only I had played dead in that moment, then I would be safe.

I’m glad I didn’t do that now.

Slowly, he tilted the bag and kept it propped open, speaking softly to me.

“Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to make a grab for you. I just didn’t want to leave you in there like that. It’s not the decent thing to do,” he said. “You wanna come out of there? Or not ready to leave yet?” I wanted to sprint to safety, be left alone, and not have a broken arm to tend to, but I knew we pets never really got what we wanted.

Reluctantly, I stood and inched toward the entrance of the bag o he could just barely see me. My insides churned uneasily. I knew what was coming. I was going to be grabbed, bruises pinched between his fingers. There would be a breathless jolt that would whiplash my neck as I lifted up to his face so I could stare into eyes that were the size of my head. Only the most horrible fates danced before my eyes, but as I began the countdown to my demise, none came.

I kept counting just to pass the time as I continued to pinch my eyes shut.

Three… Two… One… Now.

No?

Three… Two… One… Now.

I breathed deeply and summoned what courage I could and squinted one eye open. Sadly, I didn’t manage a glance up and could only stare at his pants leg, which was horrendously dirty and looked like it was one of many layers he wore; and it was no wonder – it was freezing. His one hand hadn’t moved from the top of the bag, but that was all I could see at the time.

Heart racing out of my chest, I felt absolutely sick. Bile rose up in the back of my throat. I suppressed a cough and choked back the feeling that was compressing my chest.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed something – anything – to relieve the tension.

I dared to look up, and immediately I met his two massive pale green eyes and a face that undoubtedly once was full of freckles.

One look and I knew he was examining me, eyes latching onto my injured arm that practically hung limply by my side in two places as well as the aged bruises mingled with the fresh.

I didn’t know what it was, but I knew the look in his eye immediately.

Disgust.

However, it wasn’t disgust at me. It was disgust for me.

I watched a protective presence radiate from him like waves of heat. In his eyes raged a distain and loathing for the one who hurt me. A lump the size of his fist formed in my throat.

Was it possible he felt pity? Sympathy?

No… it was empathy.

His other hand, which hadn’t made a grab for me, was in a brace of its own, and I saw a healing bruise on his cheek that was now a pale yellow. Somehow, he saw and understood everything I had gone through. It was a thought I had a few times before that people could be unkind toward one another, but I had never actually witnessed it happening.

I watched a coaxing smile curve his lips as he snapped himself out of whatever evaluation he just performed.

“Hey there,” he said softly. “Bit banged up, are we? Let’s see what we can do about that.” He laid his hand on the ground for me to step onto, which was a new phenomenon for me since most humans would simply pinch my torso or wrap their sweaty fingers around my body. Thinking of no other option or alternative at the moment but to cling onto the thoughtful look in his pale green eyes, I stepped onto his fingers and sat down cross-legged in the center of his palm.

“It’s a tad cold out and I’ve got a little way to walk. Do you care for a pocket or shoulder in my hoodie?” he asked.

Wait…

He asked?

A choice?

“Um…” I fumbled, bracing my arm tighter against my body. A bitterly cold gust of wind whipped by. I didn’t want to be confined, but the pocket sounded warmer. Then again, I was already warming just by being near his hand. I did want to see where we were going.

As if he could read my mind, he asked, “Not used to choices?”

I shook my head.

“Figures,” he muttered, a hint of anger in his voice. “How about shoulder? I’ve got a scarf in my bag here. You can use it like a blanket.”

What kind of human was this?

I couldn’t help myself and nodded eagerly and, within no more than thirty seconds, he had wrapped his scarf around his neck and had nestled me safely in the folds of the fabric, pulling up his hood to protect the both of us from the wind.

Without another word, he stood and began walking down the street, tugging a backpack onto his back and walking briskly. I didn’t ask any questions, mind reeling from what was already happening.

I wanted to ask him questions. Where were we going? What was he going to do to me? Was he taking me to someone who would be my new “owner”? Or was he going to assume that role? Why was he hurt? How was he going to fix my arm? Was he going to fix it?

I decided against asking any of them though. I didn’t want to say something that might make him change his mind in helping me. He could easily chuck me into any of the trashcans that we passed by, landing me right where I started the day.

It was about an hour later when he seemed to spot what he was looking for and changed direction, now walking toward a part of a bridge guarded by a partially torn down metal fence. He slipped under with cat-like dexterity and climbed up the steep concrete pad until he was directly under the overpass.

He reached up and gestured for me to slip onto his hand.

“I need to get my area set up, and then we’ll take a look at that arm. Sound fair?” he asked. I decided to be compliant, though I wasn’t sure what this whole “area” was supposed to look like. He unraveled the scarf and set it off to the side, keeping me snuggly wrapped in it to keep me from being subjected to the wicked wind.

I could’ve run for it. I could’ve slipped away and slid down the concrete pad to freedom, but I didn’t move. It was already getting dark and there was no chance of me surviving the night with a broken arm and no supplies. Even with this stranger, I was still safer than I would be alone.

I watched curiously as he pulled his backpack off of his back and began assembling a one-person tent, a compact set of blankets, and a few lamps which he hung inside of his pale tan tent. He shoved his bag into the opening before poking his head out and looking back at me. I had to admit that I was a bit nervous, watching him make this tent and then move inside wordlessly without bringing me with him.

“Ready?” he asked. I wasn’t sure. Was I ready? Still numb from the pain of my arm, I thought only for a minute before nodding and letting his hands cup either side of the scarf that surrounded me. He moved slowly and brought me into the tent where he set me on top of his backpack, a scuffed medical kit resting in his lap.

I didn’t get a good look, but I saw there were dozens of tools on one side of his kit, and they were all tools I had seen in my life. They were small tools – perfect for pets like me. Unease crept into my chest. Why did he have these tools? They looked professional, as if they came from a veterinarian’s office.

I shuddered as I watched his fingers reach inside and pull out some odd-looking tweezers.

“Now, let’s see about that arm,” he said. I recoiled immediately and shoved myself deeper into the fabric around me.

“No! You find someone else to play doctor on. I won’t have you practicing on me!” I shouted.

He sighed slowly and nodded a few times but didn’t try again. Was he frustrated with me? Or was he thinking of something to say. I got my answer when he spoke directly to me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Look, I’m not here to play doctor and know a thing or two about setting small bones. Believe me. Fingers make good practice,” he said. “We’ve only just met, but I need you to trust me. You don’t want that arm just hanging there like that, unless you like having a nice jolt of pain every time something taps it the wrong way.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and curled in on myself, accidentally bumping my arm against my knee in the process. Would he work on my arm without my permission anyway? Was it better to give him permission or resist, demonstrating my free will?

Either way, my arm needed help and I was in no position to make it better.

“Fine,” I muttered. He moved his fingers closer and slipped his finger under my injured arm. His keen, pale-green eyes absorbed every detail of my arm, flicking every so often to the other scars on my body.

He lifted his hand again and I slid onto the columns of flesh clumsily, abandoning my warm spot by his neck and jostling my arm in the process. He set me down on the table which had several long-dried coffee stains and spilled sugar crystals. I sat there on the desk while he washed his hand and came back.

“Feel like telling me how this happened?” he asked as he began opening up the material he’d need to brace my arm.

“Tell me about yours first,” I snapped, regretting my tone immediately for fear of punishment. His pale green eyes flicked up to my own, and my heartrate spiked just for a moment before he sighed.

“My dad. Finally decided to defend myself and got hurt in the process. Now, your turn,” said Bruce. Defend himself? Against his father? There was definitely more than met the eye with this guy, but I could see he was waiting for my response, and I guess I owed him that much.

“Kid,” I spat. “She wanted my arm to bend the other way like all of her other dolls.”

“Yikes, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Humans are terrible, but bratty kids are some of the worst. May I?” His fingers approached, gesturing for me to place my broken arm onto the pads of his fingers. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Every part of me was shaking, but I had calmed down from my outburst a few minutes ago just enough to lift my arm and lay it against the tips of his fingers. He kept his pale green eyes on me and better examined my injury.

“I’m Bruce by the way. I assume that kid gave you some ridiculous name? Or do you have a name that you’d like me to use instead?” he asked.

“You don’t want to claim your right to that?” I asked bitterly. Bruce scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Naw, I’m good. I’d rather hear what your parents named you,” said Bruce. I looked up at him, sensing he was being genuine. At least he had the decency of asking what my parents named me instead of what the training facility decided to call me. Did he know we actually had parents and weren’t just grown in a lab?

Fine. It was the least I could do since he did save my life.

“Pip. Just Pip,” I said.

“Like Pippy Longstocking? Or Pip like Pippen from Lord of the Rings?” asked Bruce.

“I don’t know,” I said, taken aback by his question. Was there a difference? Did my parents know the difference? “I like the sound of the Lord of the Rings one better though.”

“Me too,” said Bruce. His nimble fingers worked swiftly and, before I knew it, my arm was braced between fragments of popsicle sticks, string, and pieces of a cut shirt. Despite the size of his fingers, he was tender and careful. After I was bandaged up, arm in a sling, I stared at him as he carefully broke apart a pill meant for killing the pain and handed it to me. He also gave me some water to take with it as he began making some kind of dinner for himself, which came in those odd-packaged noodles.

We ended up eating in silence after I took the medicine before I summoned the courage to ask him about why he was out here on his own in a tent instead of a home. I had an idea of what happened when he mentioned his arm, but I wanted to hear it from him directly.

Turned out that he knew a little something about the viciousness of humans and empathized with the abuse pets suffered daily. His father was a cruel man, especially after his wife left him, leaving Bruce behind to endure alone. We compared scars and injuries, though I had to admit that Bruce’s injuries surpassed my own, which was surprising.

It was only because of the kindness of one other, a veterinarian who helped him through the darkest times in his life, that he was where he was in life. It was this veterinarian who he was going to go live with once he made it to his final destination. Bruce explained that his father made him move out of state “for a change of scenery” after his mother left, and Bruce finally had enough and was going back to live with the veterinarian.

I found myself endeared to him after hearing this story. Not only had this veterinarian helped Bruce, but he also helped him learn the skills necessary to help pets like me. He helped him see that there was no difference between us, and for this I would be forever grateful.

After talking well into the night, Bruce offered to take me wherever I wanted to go. Sadly, I had nowhere else to go. Bruce then offered me to stay with him, traveling as companions and not as pet and human. Whole-heartedly, I accepted and drifted off to sleep just under his chin when it was time for bed.

This was the start to something wonderful.

For the next four months, we traveled together in the most peculiar circumstances. We slept in odd places like under bridges and in parks in the evenings, and we used public electricity to charge his batteries. Sometimes, he collected cans or other odd ends for cash if he didn’t work the odd job. Never did he beg along the side of the road like the other nomads we came across while traveling.

While on the road, we came across more than just other people like Bruce. We came across others like me who were down and out, rejected, thrown away, or simple runaways. We soon found ourselves moving in an entire group of five, bringing three other pets along for the ride – Volley, Lowe, and Flick.

We made up the “Fantastic Five,” collecting spare change and living life on the road as we made our way across the country from one coast to the next. It was a good time for all of us. Late night talks and dream – real dreams – about the future. It was something none of us were really used to when given the chance.

For the first time, I let myself dream. I dreamt about walking on the beach and seeing an ocean sunset. The others had dreams of going to school, becoming an inventor, and even becoming a chef. Some of these dreams felt farfetched, but it was the fact that we could let ourselves dream that made the time worthwhile.

Of course, dreams were not the only things that made up our world. On our travels through the human world, there were still dangers and cruel humans. More often than not, Bruce had to fight away different humans so they would stay away from his things and, more importantly, away from us.

One particular individual, David, became a particular nuisance when we had to stay in the same campsite for a few weeks while Bruce gathered up enough money to stock up a decent supply of dried goods before making one of the longest treks of our journey yet. David would often sneak into or around the camp, pinching things from others’ campsites and claiming he didn’t steal anything when confronted.

Bruce, along with myself and the other three, were onto him from the moment Bruce set up his tent, and we were very careful to make sure to keep an eye out for David. From the moment that slimy git greeted us with a hello, I knew he was going to be trouble.

It wasn’t until one particularly warm morning, however, that everything happened.

I woke up, stretching into the warm spot by Bruce’s neck that I had grown accustomed to, and saw a shadow lurking nearby. I shoved the others awake and tugged on Bruce’s earlobe until he woke up.

“Hm? What’s going on?” he murmured sleepily, rolling over onto his back. The moment Bruce spoke, the shadow quickly vanished away from the side of the tent, and we were left alone once again.

“Pip? You see that?” asked Flick, rubbing his curly brown hair out of his eyes as he looked up toward the top beams of the tent.

“Yeah. Why’d you think I woke you up? I think it’s David again,” I said quickly, making sure Bruce could hear. In a moment, Bruce was sitting upright and was crouched by the edge of his tent, listening intently.

“You sure it was him? It might’ve been someone passing by,” suggested Bruce.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t know if it would be anyone else other than him,” I replied hastily, hoping I hadn’t raised the alarm for no particular reason.

“Well, did you see where he went?” asked Bruce. His hand lowered and, without hesitation, I stepped on and sat up on top of his shoulder so we could speak quickly and quietly without others hearing.

“No, but hopefully he’ll go bother someone else,” I said as softly as I could into Bruce’s ear.

“All the same, I think we should get out of here. Maybe it was him and maybe not. Regardless, we should get moving anyway. Besides, unless he really wants something of mine, David won’t follow,” said Bruce. I nodded in agreement, even though he couldn’t see me directly. “I’m going to fill up my water container and then we’ll be off.”

Without another word, Bruce quickly packed up his things and dismantled the tent, setting everything into his pack. The water spicket was only sixty or so feet away, which was quite a fair distance for a pet like me and my fellow companions, but it was, as Bruce would say, a “stone’s throw,” away from us. He would be gone from us for maybe thirty seconds and David was nowhere in sight, which was a relief.

“I’ll be right back,” he reassured as he moved quickly to the water spicket with his collection of empty containers.

The others and myself assumed our positions along his bag, slipping into pockets and securing our lines onto the edges of his bag, all while keeping an eye out for anyone approaching. My eyes were pealed sharp. I was keeping a close eye out – or so I thought.

One moment, my eyes were fixed on the nomadic campsite and Bruce mere steps away. In the next moment, the bag we were all on was being hoisted up into the air, jostling with the force of someone running away quickly. My head whipped around and felt my insides drop as I recognized the dark, matted hair on David’s head. I heard the others cry out indistinctly, and I knew in an instant we were in trouble.

Doing the only thing I could think of, I called out as loud as I could for the one person who I knew would be able to help.

“Bruce!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Bruce!”

Did he hear me? Did he even notice? All I knew was that I had to hang on within an inch of my life as my friends and I were jostled, thrown and bounced within an inch of our lives. My once broken arm ached with the force with which I tried clinging to the bag.

The nomadic campsite vanished from view as the thief darted from street to street with us in tow. A sick, churning feeling seized my insides. What was going to happen to us if Bruce didn’t follow or find us in time? More importantly, how were we going to help Bruce find his things and find us?

I didn’t have to worry or think for very long. Once we were a few streets over, David stopped running and threw the bag carelessly on the ground. We landed hard against the pavement, making my bones ache. The others cried out too, but I couldn’t see them from where I was on the top of the bag. Something else seized my attention – literally.

I was pinched harshly between the grubby fingers of the thieving human and was hoisted up into the air. I could smell the decay off of David’s breath as he squinted at me.

“Ah, I forgot about you little twerps,” he muttered. I glared up at him and squirmed in his grip, trying to get free.

“Get off of me and leave Bruce’s things alone!” I demanded. My insides were suddenly squeezed within an inch of my life. I gasped for air, trying to remember how to bring air back into my lungs.

“You making demands of me, pet?” he scoffed. “Squeaking and mewling all of your complaints. It’s a wonder why he keeps vermin like you around. I think I’ll do him a favor and exterminate the lot of you. One less mouth to feed.”

I felt his fingers start to tense around me again. My vision started to blacken. Every part of me screamed, and a shout of pain escaped my own body. The others were shouting, demanding for me to be released, but it did nothing for me. My vision darkened and I could see nothing.

Suddenly, I was completely weightless. What was going on? Was this dying? A jostled landing and a sudden relief let me bring air into my lungs again. I felt hands my size tapping my face and grasping onto my shoulders once feeling returned to my body.

I also heard a roaring shout from a voice I recognized all too well.

“Let go of her! And leave us alone!” shouted Bruce. There were sounds of dull thudding as David tried to fight back.

“Ow! Stop it! I was just looking after your stuff. I was afraid someone would st-”

“I’m not stupid! You picked the wrong guy to mess with! Don’t you ever come near my friends again, you hear me?” Bruce roared as his blurry form pounded David with his fists. David began to stumble away and retreat, wiping the blood away from his lips.

“Geez! They’re just vermin. They don’t feel…” Bruce grabbed the nearest rock and hucked it at David’s head as the other human ran away.

“If you ever compare them to vermin again, I'll beat the s*** outta you!” yelled Bruce. Thankfully, my vision returned in time to see the faces of the other three and Bruce hovering above me.

“Are you alright?” asked Flick as he began checking out my once injured arm. Volley lifted me up just enough for Bruce to lift me up into his palm. I sank into the warmth of his fingers.

“I’ll be fine,” I moaned, clutching my sides that I knew would have finger shaped bruises on them.

“Not until we’re far away from here,” Bruce muttered. “Come on. We need to get going before David decides to come back.”

We loaded up once again on the bag while Bruce carried me in his hand until I was well enough to sit up on my own on his shoulder. It wasn’t until we were several hours into our walk that I realized that I hadn’t thanked Bruce. I looked up and over at him, leaning into the crook of his neck and tugged on his earlobe to get his attention.

“Hey, Bruce. I meant to say it earlier, but thank you,” I said.

“It’s nothing,” said Bruce. “It’s the least I could do for a friend.”

I smiled to myself and curled in tighter. Bruce reached up and gently brushed his fingers against my side.

Friend.

What a human term, but what could be more fitting for us and our merry band.

The days were long, but we soon found ourselves on the doorstep of Bruce’s mentor and friend. The vet was an interesting man, but we – the other pets – took a liking to him almost instantly. We also took a liking to, as he called them, “house guests,” which were other pets like the three of us. Settling in took no time but, at the end of the day, there was no place I would rather be than by Bruce’s side, nestled into his neck as I had done for so long.

Humans are such interesting beings, capable of great evil and kindness. I was blessed enough to find one who knew cruelty and chose kindness instead.

We all have a choice, and now I choose to be happy.

[crazycatgirl420]

Out Of Options, Threads of Hope

DpxDC fic crossover. Vlad is an (implied) Creep. Teenage Dad Danny. Toddler Clone Child Danielle. Bad Parents Maddie and Jack(?) Adopted Fenton Danny. Biological Son of Bruce Wayne Danny. Paulina/Danny Ship. Good but Stuggling Batfam.

Part 1 | Part 2 [N/A]

When Paulina imagined her Graduation from High School, she never would've pictured this for herself. She was Eighteen, turning Nineteen this summer. She thought she'd be dating Dash or Star, that she'd be taking photos and going out to dinner with either of them or maybe the cheer team would meet up.

Of course she never would've predicted Phantom. Couldn't have imagined Fenton. And you can't predict an unexpected baby. That's what makes them unexpected.

But here she was. Kneeling on the grass of the football field, blue Graduation gown the only thing protecting her JJ House designer dress from stains, and her heels starting to sink into the dirt.

"Grad-u-lates Pauli," Ellie said, carefully, with a toothy smile and her happy bright blue eyes. Her little arms went up, hands grabbing at the air. "Uppies?"

Paulina picked Ellie up, meeting Jazz's eyes, before glancing around. Danny was making his way from the seats, his own gown hanging awkwardly on him.

It had been Jazz's gown. No wonder it didn't fit Danny properly. Jazz was tall and thin, like a runway model. Danny meanwhile, had developed all sorts of fun muscles these past few years.

"Daddy!" Ellie cheered, wiggling in Paulina's arms.

"Hello Princess," Danny said. It was habit by now, passing the little girl to Danny who held her on one hip, then being pulled into a hug on the other side. "And you too Pauli,"

She rested her head, carefully because she had it pinned up to curl and hold just so, on his shoulder. His arm around her waist. Her hand on his chest. Ellie patting a slimy hand over Paulina's as she too cuddled Danny.

"I wish I could let you give onlookers cavities," Jazz said. " but this sweet cuddle fest needs to get a move on."

Paulina sighed. Where you can find one reason the Fentons were awful people there were a dozen hidden nearby. Danny having to wear Jazz's old Graduation gown? Jazz being the only one here to support him at the ceremony? Oh, and then there was the whole...ghost hunter thing. It was racist...speciest? Speciesist? Xenophobia? was a phobia or an ism or an ist, no matter what it was it was horrible.

Paulina's parents had been here. Her own Dad had left the keys to her new apartment in her car, before he left for a meeting he bailed on to watch her walk the stage. Ma had been here too, and had left a care package in the trunk. They were busy with their careers, but they always made time to support her.

She didn't realize how lucky she was for that basic care until she started dating Danny. The contrast was stark and had clawed guilt into her throat until she broke down crying - last year was a mess okay?

Now she and Danny would be leaving Amity Park. Jazz was going to collage in Metropolis, just a short drive away from Gotham, where they were moving. Paulina would open her own shop, they'd live in the apartment above the shop, and Danny would be the stay at home father and full time Defender of the Realms, and Danielle would get attending a decent early child care and education center.

It is not the life she foresaw for herself specifically. She thought she'd go to art or design school, or get on Project Runway or Next Top Model. Instead she's jumping into a career and following her boyfriend and his daughter halfway across the country.

"Pauli, want yum yums," Ellie said around the thumb in her mouth.

Danny gave her a smile, his eyes hopeful too.

"Alright fine," Paulina sighed playfully. "I'll make some enchiladas before we leave. Do you want to join us Jazz?"

"I'd love to,"

Sam and Tucker already had plans with their families for after the ceremony, so Paulina didn't bother looking for them.

It was weird being sort of friends with Sam again. When Samantha became Sam became wannabe activist Paulina had lost touch. Then it was middle school, and Paulina's parents divorced so she went to public school. Then high school and suddenly Paulina was dating her ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend.

Tucker was...tolerable. She was sure after a few more years she might even consider him her friend. Until then though he was Danny's friend. Honestly she was just happy they took her seriously now. Being treated like a brainless buffoon just because she was on the cheer team or liked fashion was so patronizing.

Danny placed a kiss on her forehead, and Paulina absently wiped the powered foundation off his chin.

"Thank you," Danny said.

"I'm not cooking in my dress, you will wait for me to change,"

"I know."

Paulina sighed, again, a smile twisting her lipstick frozen lips.

It might not have been what she expected, but she wouldn't change it for the world.

[siriannatan]

Possibly the weirdest mash-up AU ever. Or not? - ScWhip

I have no explanation for where this came to my brain from. It just appeared and now it's here :}

Hope you like it

AO3

Finding the Supreme Witch, just passed out in the middle of the woods was not on fWhip's list of things to do tonight. To be honest his only plan was to go to a nearby village and have a meal so he could spend the next month without leaving his manor. "What am I to do with you?" he spun his umbrella as he wondered. Little Mister Supreme was not breathing and his heart wasn't beating but fWhip was a vampire long enough to recognise fellow undead with ease. But even if the scrawny witch-boy was not capable of dying he was not about to just leave him passed out in the middle of a monster-infested forest.

So with some trouble due to his umbrella being still needed, he picked up the Supreme and turned back to his mansion. The villagers were paranoid enough with just a vampire around. Luckily he still had a few days to get his blood supply up before there would be any trouble. The village being so far that he needed to leave before sunset was the bigger problem than feeding itself. Or even the most powerful currently existing witch. 

No. Scrawny little witch man was more of an opportunity. Having someone with this much power and influence could be great for fWhip if he ever got in trouble with witches. Or if he ever needed something from a witch. Or the Supreme himself even. All good things for fWhip but he still could not help himself but wonder - what was the Supreme doing so far from the Witch Lands? fWhip heard of no issues anywhere near him but it wasn't like he paid it all that much attention. Maybe he could get it out the supreme over some tea.

fWhip was glad he had his tea garden, especially in situations like this. The howling half-fish man from the lake was possibly the most frequent visitor he got. But he was noisy and came over during the day. fWhip would rather spend that time napping or reading. And he wasn't even half as cute as the Supreme With turned out to be when relieved of his muddy cloak and put on a free bed in fWhip's manor. He had spare bedrooms only. Guest bedrooms invited annoyances like a certain wither to try and stay with him. fWhip liked his peace and quiet disturbed only by his own explosions. 

But back to the cute little witch he found. None of the stories he's heard about him mentioned he was a boney, pale little thing with fluffy dark hair. All the stories said was that he was a powerful necromancer and a monster. Not that monsters had to be ugly. fWhip has been called a monster on multiple occasions and would not call himself ugly. Quite contrary actually. But no amount of pretty could help him get the witch awake. fWhip knew precious little about medicine. Mostly just enough to take care of anyone he fed on and did not want to kill. 

All he could do was get the kettle going and wait. At least he did not have to wait for all that long. The sun has just about almost set when the Supreme showed the first signs of waking up. fWhip calmly took one last sip of his blood-rose tea - he could drink it well enough but it did not satiate his hunger well enough - and gave his guest a chance to gather himself. He set it with maybe a bit more noise than necessary to announce his presence.

"Who are you? Where am I?" the Supreme asked while pulling out staff from nowhere.

"I'm count fWhip," fWhip introduced himself with as much of a bow as he could muster without getting up. "We're in my mansion," he added with a toothy grin. The best way to announce one is a vampire in his experience. Saved him the disbelief and doubt that led to his fangs being flashed anyway. "I found you passed out in the woods. Not the safest place," he added before it was asked. "I have more tea if you're interested.

Scott had no idea if he was actually awake. Since when could vampires have tea without spitting it out? Just who or what was this count fWhip? Or what weird herb was he using in his teas. "Only if you first tell me exactly what goes into this mysterious tea. As far as I know, all vampires can eat or drink is blood," if the competition for the Supreme title taught him anything it was that there was no such thing as being too careful.  No matter how handsome someone was. And fWhip was unfairly handsome... Scott was a busy witch even if his original goal failed miserably. There were things he had to do that didn't have to do with handsome vampires and their weird tea.

"Of course. I grow all my tea myself and the one I'm drinking is a special Blood Rose blend..."

He barely paid any attention to what fWhip was saying. The flashing fangs were more than slightly distracting. And the unfortunately still present there even if Scott was a lich hunger started to make itself known. Wasn't the point of being dead that annoying things like that would be gone? It wasn't. And fWhip was asking something and Scott just said 'yes' because why would he say not to an attractive man. And now he was getting up and Scott was lost and confused and could only say 'heh?' when fWhip extended a hand to him.

"You said it's okay if I show you my tea garden," fWhip chuckled and it took a lot of Scott's willpower to not giggle like he was never in love before.

"I was just wondering where my coat went..." he tried to defend himself as fWhip helped him off the bed. It was a good thing he had no blood and could not blush.

"Oh, it was all muddy and wet so I set it aside to clean later if... if you'd stay long enough for that," fWhip explained as Scott fixed his robes. He was the Supreme Witch and so far did not act like it. "The name's Scott, I'm the new Supreme witch, umm. Thank you for not just leaving me..."

"It'd be a bad look on the area if I just let the local monsters rip our cute Supreme Witch to pieces," fWhip chuckled and offered Scott an arm.

Scott was fully aware vampires tended to be charismatic and smooth bastards. If one lived long enough one could master anything. What he forgot they could also do with that time was collect things. And in fWhip's case that resulted in a library that rivalled Scott's newly acquired along his tile library. It took one whole floor of his manor that was by no means small. And yes it was mostly alchemy and tinkering and not much on magic, especially necromancy but Scott could appreciate a good collection.

And fWhip's 'garden' was no less impressive. Scott was pretty sure he spotted a few herbs witches called extinct as he was given a tour of different flowers fWhip made into teas to not die of boredom and not be a bad host. He was an actual count and had the up bring to go with the title. What made Scott feel rather self-conscious when he was served dinner - he didn't really think who made it - the title of the Supreme Witch did not come with a lesson on table manners.

"If I might ask, what is the Supreme Witch doing this far from the Witch Lands?" fWhip asked while swirling what had to be blood - Scott dealt with it enough to recognise it - inside a decorative crystal goblet.

Scott had no idea how to say he had no idea what to do with himself. The title of the Supreme basically meant he was the most powerful witch currently ali... existing and that he inherited all the possessions of the previous Supreme Witches. Most notably the key to the giant library between dimensions. All that library allowed him to do was summon Milo's spirit and be told to move on and not bring him back. So now Scott was a lich with nothing to do, told by his dead lover to move on and be happy. He couldn't tell fWhip that.

"Well, I..." Scott was about to say something cool but... He could not bring himself to lie. fWhip was nice to him and even fed him a good meal and... Scott could swear that for just a second he could see a spirit of Milo shaking his head. But he was probably just seeing things. "Well, it's a long story."

"I believe we have a lot of time ahead of us. I certainly do not mind sacrificing some of it to a story," fWhip offered along another grin that almost had Scott's heart beating. 

Almost. "You'll be the death of me with these," Scott chuckled. Maybe he could try and listen to Milo and move on. Or at least try to.

"I'm pretty sure we've both already done that," fWhip chuckled and Scott groaned. What did he get himself involved with?

[archauthorship]

Cookie for your Thoughts

Never agree to a deal unseen. She knew that rule, had always followed it. In her line of work it was essential for survival. But this… she hadn’t seen. The figure had seemed harmless, standing outside her apartment building. He offered her a clearly home baked cookie and it seemed rude to refuse the obvious gesture of goodwill.

She didn’t see the toothy grin. Not until she was swallowing the last bite did she glance back at his face. The mask of humanity had slipped. Teeth like a predator’s slipped past his lips and his eyes widened in delight. Eyes that were slitted like a cat and glittered with silver light.

She practically fled inside, but a soft chuckle seemed to follow her. “Don’t be afraid, little morsel… we will have plenty of time to get familiar.”

When she awoke the next morning, she managed to convince herself that it had just been a dream. So when she emerged from her bedroom to get coffee and breakfast to find her table already set for two, panic immediately surged.

“Now now, no need for that,” the voice came from behind her. The figure was taller than she remembered, with delicate features, perfectly coiffed hair, and a warm smile–that pointedly hid any teeth. He took her arm and led her to the table as though it was a high-society meal instead of a home invasion.

Even more shocking to her, she went along with it without a second thought. I’m still dreaming… or… its shock… what is happening!?”

He sat across from her, with that same warm smile on his face. “I’m going to answer a few questions before you try to ask any, they are the usual ones and it just saves so much time.” Of course the instant he said that, a million questions bubbled into her throat. Only to die unvoiced as he lifted a finger as though to press it to her lips, “ah, ah, your turn is next.”

He lifted a delicate porcelain teacup and took a sip, where did that come from? I don’t have a tea set. “To start with the obvious, I am one of the Fair Folk, and you placed yourself in my debt when you accepted my ‘gift’. You are right! That IS unfair!” His grin broadened to become toothy and inhuman once more, “my people never play fair if we can help it.” The moment passed and he was genial and warm once more as he continued, “but this IS a deal, and you aren’t entirely in the red by it. I put power in that simple cookie, and now that power is yours as long as we continue our deal.”

He paused to stare at her unblinking as though waiting for something. “What… What kind of power?” He chuckled, the sound surprisingly nice out of the inhuman creature.

“Sticking to the usual script so far, you’ll do nicely, human.” “Mar…” she started to give her name and caught herself. She wasn’t exactly well read on fantasy or folklore… but fairies stealing names was a pretty well-known thing even to her. “Call me, Sabueso.” An old colleague had given her the nickname, and she hoped it would be helpful here.

The figure across from her laughed brightly and clapped his slender hands, “OH! Off script already! You are a clever one!” His grin became somewhat more predatory, “yes, morsel, guard your name well, names hold power. Yours is safe for now, and I rather like this nickname.” He sat back with a very pleased expression, “to answer your previous question, the exact nature will depend on you… but if I had to guess, you will have power over others. The power to convince, to cajole, even control should the circumstances be right.” He looked straight at her as he spoke, and couldn’t miss the realization of ambitions that ran through her.

“You are a barrister… No, you call yourselves lawyers now? You already understand how valuable my power can be to you I’m sure.”

She nodded dumbly, still not convinced she wasn’t dreaming, “so… what are the ‘terms’ its obvious you are getting something from me in all this.”

He nodded, expression once more predatory, “indeed, Sabueso. I get you. Exactly what that means… well that is something up to my decision. I’ve had servants that turned out quite dull in the end, and I do so hate being bored.” The inhuman menace that rolled off him made her shiver uncontrollably. In an instant though, it was gone, replaced by a chipper grin and childish giggle. “But somehow I don’t think that will be your fate… you’ve already surprised me once and impressed me twice. I’ll let you in on a little secret, free of charge even! All of my kin are ageless, and the greatest enemy of all is boredom. Novelty and surprise are the most valuable things you can offer. I tell you this because quite frankly, I think you could be quite impressive with a good ‘coach’... and I’d rather have an impressive servant than a boring snack!”

He finished his sentence with an extremely toothy grin that left absolutely no doubts as to what kind of snack he was referring.

She sat quietly for several minutes, looking at the strange figure before her. Could she be dreaming? Or perhaps hallucinating? I don’t believe in fairies… wait isn’t that from Peter Pan? 

“What… what if I don’t believe you… This feels like a dream!” His expression became a mask of exaggerated boredom, “ugh… back on script.” A dark tone entered his voice, like an angry parent that would not accept ‘no’ for an answer, “slap yourself in the face!” Her mouth opened to snap a retort, but was closed by her own open hand. “Again, harder!” She wasn’t sure which stung harder, her face or hand. “Stop!”

Boredom was replaced by cold fury in a moment, “Stop? STOP?! You will stop, breathing that is!” Panic seized her as she realized that no matter what she did, she could not fill her lungs. “First rule, human! You will NEVER try to issue an order or demand to ME. You are my servant, we are not partners, and certainly not equals.” Her vision was beginning to cloud, and she tried to beg, to apologize, anything. “Breathe.”

She complied gratefully, gasping and coughing as air rushed back into her lungs. Her ‘master’ was back to grinning and cheer, sitting at the table and eating breakfast as though nothing was happening.

���So, any other questions?”

She looked at him with a thread of honest terror wrapping around her. This is real… and he could kill me with a WORD… just demonstrated it, and… what else does he want?

She sat up, took a sip of the tea in front of her and narrowed her eyes. He obviously wants me to keep talking, but he already told me he wants to be surprised… so… don’t do the normal human response. Don’t do the human thing, be el Sabueso.

“You obviously didn’t come after me at random, what do you want me to do with your power?” She had been off balance, unsure, and fearful the entire conversation. She was still afraid of course, but now it was the kind of fear that sharpened focus and drove her to excel.

His eyebrows raised, “An interesting theory… what if I told you it was just chance?” Her brows furrowed and she focused on him. He was clearly a consummate manipulator, and his emotions were fickle and mercurial, but she thought she could see something genuine hiding. “There’s half a million people living here, many lead far more interesting lives. Many are more beautiful, more clever, or just more funny. But you didn’t go after them… You picked me, I’m a lawyer, but more than that… I think you know what I used to do.”

His eyes narrowed, so did hers. “I was a fixer, I found loopholes, ways OUT of deals.” He didn’t react, but one of her eyebrows raised. “Hmm… I don’t want to be insulting, but in what folklore I do know… fae are always making deals and bargains with each other… and power is usually pretty one sided.” He still had zero reactions, which was both concerning and felt like confirmation. The thread of fear tightened to feel almost as strangling as his command from early, but she continued. “You… wanted… not an ally, but someone outside that could… manipulate the situation.” Still not a single reaction, not even a finger moved. She felt like she was picking a lock blindfolded, and suddenly a pin clicked into place. “You can’t… I bet that no one who isn’t involved in the bargain can discuss it, even admit it exists… You demonstrated your power over ME and I just ate a cookie. So… I need to find a loophole in a magical contract that no one else can read, and get you out from underneath someone even more powerful than you, who can and probably would kill you for even trying… that about the sum of it?”

His eyes were once again slitted like a cat, studying her intensely. Her own gaze was nearly a match, meeting his unblinking one without letting her fear show.

He stood slowly, and a satisfied smile grew on his face. “Enjoy your meal, ‘el Sabueso’. It isn’t magic, but I have had a few centuries to perfect my recipes!”