#me: several paragraphs of puck realizing babette is potentially thinking something dirty based on her smell bc hes rly normal

[bloodtwin]

@bloodyarn sent:

WooHoo with Puck 😍

sometimes having the nose of a dog has its perks. other times, it makes puck's life twice as awkward than it needs to be. he isn't quite sure which one it is today.

each person has a distinct smell. he can recognize them without seeing them from scent alone once he's met them. iago, for example, smells sharp. like the ground newly struck by lightning but with a faint twinge of something sour ⸻ like a lemon maybe. it makes his nose itch but comforts him too.

there are subtle shifts in these scents based on a variety of factors. their diet, their clothing, perfumes, emotions, the list goes on. fear is the most easily recognized, the strongest of them all. he can identify that one before he can even think to guess who it comes from. it is, regrettably, his favorite smell. he can never put the scent to words, but it attracts him like nothing else.

however, there is another scent he likes almost just as much; one he has no qualms admitting to enjoying. (at least not to most people. he can think of one or two he'd get bashful confessing to.) it makes his heart race, his blood rush.

babette smells as sweet as freshly baked goods, like frosting on cakes, so when that suddenly mixes with the other scent as he draws his bow back, puck's concentration breaks. his fingers let go, and the arrow releases too soon, nicking the tree branch instead of the apple he'd placed on top of it.

bewildered, puck swivels around to look at the hexblood because that can't be right. surely he imagined it. (just puck being a pervert again or something.) the wind must have blown some other scent his way. it could be anything, really.

well, all right, it couldn't. that smell is distinct, obvious. it could be from anything, just not from her. surely not from her.

but babette's face is flushed, more bashful than he thinks he's ever seen before, and her eyes are wide yet glassy. as if she were miles away, lost in a dream or a fantasy.

curious & almost teasingly, he tilts his head at her. ❝ what is my sweet girl thinking about over there ？❞