#mostly that they work at a scale that makes the human mind stutter to a stop and treat everything as magic

[quill-of-thoth]

Okay but. Tiny swimming things on europa are more exciting, conceptually, than an alien civilization. Alien civilizations, and travel between solar systems, and people who we can talk to who aren’t us make great storytelling. But from a physics standpoint actually talking to aliens is an almost certain impossibility - for all the proposed solutions to faster than light space travel or instant communication, it’s likely that those problems are just too large in scale for it to be possible for us, or actually any civilization in the universe, ever, to solve them.  I know I talk about scale problems a lot but I think it’s one place where we don’t actually get enough scientific literacy education and that leads to people making policy and personal decisions based on presuming that science fiction is a “when” question instead of a “what if.” Say you could, I don’t know, reliably manipulate particles that exist also as fields rather than waves throughout the universe, potentially fixing the problems of communication degrading across the lightyears and also the speed of light meaning that we’re anywhere from four and a half years to the entire age of the universe away from getting any information from planets outside our solar system. You would still need someone on the other end to know how to build apparatuses that send information BACK. Then there’s faster than light travel, an even worse problem because it would probably require energy, and the scale problem gets worse, because you’re hoping to send STUFF rather than subatomic particles, and it’s very possible that there does not physically exist enough energy in possibly the universe to send, say, an intact car with living creatures in it, fast enough for those creatures to make it at enough under the speed of light to survive, even to our nearest neighbor Alpha Centauri. Even if we sent microbes and not people, even if it took us ten years to get to Alpha Centauri instead of the four and a half ish at lightspeed. Even if we sent a mars rover’s great great grand-bot to Alpha Centauri with some sort of decision-making process baked in and resigned ourselves to being spectators to a robot’s exploration half a decade after the fact.  Maybe physics gets weird in ways that we cannot predict that make this a less impossible problem. We’re not close to that. It probably seemed like we could be to people last century who thought “we’ve split an atom, the next frontier could be anything” but we knew that atoms consisted of separate parts since before 1900: it’s fundamental to how chemistry actually works, and we were poking around in predicting the results of chemistry during basically the entire 1800′s. We had an okay knowledge of what happened but not WHY.  Back to biochemistry, instead of physical chemistry: instead of the chemistry proliferation of the 1800′s, we have the proliferation of genetics in the 1900′s. We know (because genetics is a step up in complexity from chemistry: DNA is a complex, self assembling chemical process that exists only because with large enough chemicals there are very specific arrangements where it takes less energy to stay in shape than to dissolve into component parts - this is super simplified by the way -) and we’re still working on it. We’re going to be working on it for a lot longer than the idea of particles within an atom because there is so much more of it.  (There is also a LOT going the other direction, particles within particles, which is why we now know that the Higgs Boson exists instead of being so theoretical that it was nicknamed the god particle, but we have immense scale problems studying subatomic particles, and we don’t have the same problem for chemistry or biochemistry. Or microbiology. Time to re-enter europa.) The things Europa microbes could teach us in the fields of microbiology / biochemistry are way more important to our current state of knowledge as a species than if we could magically get cell signal to Alpha Centauri. We know how a lot of biochemical processes work, and why when they’re purely chemical. 

For example, we know that the lipid layer surrounding cells exists because, for chemical reasons, one end of a lipid hates touching water and the other doesn’t mind. So you put a bunch of lipid molecules in water and they self-assemble into little clumps, with their water-hating ends inward. Put enough in and stir and you get bubbles of lipid, where there’s water inside the bubble but the lipid is forming a layer, like a sheet of paper but impossibly thinner, water hating ends mashed together while the other ends look out into two separate seas. One sea has more salt than the other, but that’s okay: salt ions are so much smaller than lipids that they can just wiggle through the barrier. The lipids will turn a tiny tiny bit so the water hating ends don’t touch the ions, which they also don’t like much. The inner and outer seas make sure they have roughly the same amount of ions, and in doing so make sure they can have single atoms pass through. Water is only three atoms large. A lipid is about sixty atoms large. An amino acid is about twenty atoms large, and it mostly stays inside the inner sea if that’s where it starts out. The outer sea is more turbulent - complex proteins don’t form in it without breaking apart. The inner sea is calmer. Some proteins get so large that when they fold on themselves to reach the most compact structures they start having physical behaviors, like the motion stored in a tightly wound spring. Some proteins move in ways that interact with other proteins, without changing anything about their chemical composition. Somewhere in all this we get systems of proteins, and this is where we reach the unknown WHY stage, that get complex enough that they start assembling other chemicals, which in turn tell other proteins how to make more proteins. And sugars. And - well a hell of a lot of chemicals, it turns out. If you have some idea of how many grains of rice is a billion, you still don’t understand how many cells are in a moderately sized mammal. The scale difference between a million and a billion is not QUITE the same as the scale difference between a billion and a trillion but we’re getting close. The scale difference between an atom and a virus is similar to the scale difference between humans and the sun, in that math doesn’t quite break down when we think about it, but our ability to do math without technical aids does.  Europan life, no matter how unicellular, could teach us a lot about WHY life works this way. If they have the same proteins (or enough of the same) we can be reasonably sure that a lot of the chemical building blocks of life are simply the most durable organizations of specific chemicals in tiny envelopes of water. If they don’t, we’ll know that we need to broaden our search. If Europan life was microbes and viruses we would eventually know enough about them to track their evolution. If it was weird enough - say it lacked DNA and RNA - we would be able to discover a completely different principal of chemical self-organization leading to life. Theorizing a genetic structure that isn’t DNA/RNA in enough detail to be worth studying is a ludicrous amount of work: we are currently gamely trying to find different possible folds for individual proteins, which are usually smaller, by a combination of sheer computing power and luck.  A decade ago when I was actually taking microbio, it was infinitely faster and cheaper in terms of energy to have humans propose protein arrangements and have computers check them: shout out to https://fold.it/, which you can still play for the sake of science. The rise of machine learning AI hasn’t made a dent here: it likely won’t. The scale difference between colored pixels or individual word arrangements and the folds of a protein is probably also like the difference between a human and the sun. Finding life on Europa, whether it’s different than our microbes or not, could be the kind of connection in the field of molecular biology that discovering the individual components of the core of an atom one after another in the early 1800′s was: the Why that births a dozen new fields.  TLDR: a microbe not of this world is a larger amount of information than being able to talk directly to an alien and infinitely less impossible. 

do you believe in aliens

yeah but in the very boring "there's probably some tiny things swimming around on europa" way, not in the flying saucers way

[wolven91]

New Style. New You.

Fur was a standard amongst the stars.

Oh sure, some of the races sported beautiful feathers. Others look resplendent in beautiful scales that shone like gemstones. But most of the races had fur. The taurians had mostly short velvet-like cover, except atop their heads. The felinoids ranged from the short to the long fur and the ursidains had fur several inches thick at times.

Thanks to this, everyone had grooming kits. Small bundles that unrolled into a selection of tools for removing knots, brushes for straightening ruffled patches and even small scissors for the removal of that which will not obey its owner. These self-grooming tools were common. Even children would have their own, despite lacking the scissors.

With a body worth of fur, it was expected that one would need to maintain their own pelt.

But, that did not stop the need for those who could take an unmoulded medium of unsculpted head fur and turn it into something that pulled the owner's chin up, push their chest out and whisper into their ear that a strut was needed from them. There were groomers of course, beings would like up and would be brought back into acceptable appearances via a groomer who just wanted to get as many customers sorted as they could.

But then there was Notila.

Notila was a taurian and had dedicated himself to this act of artistry. His medium, was other's fur.  He could take a loveless taurian woman and with his tools, a bit of product and a peptalk, turn her into a taurian who's horns rivalled the very mountains. He had managed celebrities, lords and even royalty. More than once had he had received gifts to his private shop as thanks for his work, it was so life changing. Everyone wanted him to 'do' their fur.

The taurian male, draped in the finest shimmering silks, and glittering gold jewellery, from his own little kingdom, enjoyed the fact that he was the premier stylist in the system. Twenty-two billion souls and they all dreamed for him to cut their fur.

So, when the human settled down into Notila's chair for the fifth time and asked for a 'short, back and sides'. Notila clasped his hands together and touched the sides of his palms to the tip of his snout. With his eyes closed, Notila took in a calm and steading breath. The human watched the gold bangles tinkle together as the taurian remained still for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts.

"You live in the same high security building as me and you're human. This is why you can get your hair cut here every few months." The taurian explained carefully to the human. His many earrings sparkling in the light.

"Without throwing myself to narcissism, it would be... disingenuous to not point out that this career of mine has made me the number one in my craft..." The bull continued. The human at this point was merely looking up at the male, blinking innocently. His fine silks were flawless, despite being in his shop most of the day, the taurian's robes were nary a jot out of place. Not a single errant strand of fur or hair lay on his clothes.

"I could make you anything." The hornless taurian promised. "Your hair is sculpt-able. Malleable. I could make every man, woman and child look at you and want to *be* you." Notila opened his eyes and gazed at the customer that sat waiting in the chair that could easily have been a throne elsewhere. The human's lips pulled into a tight smile and nodded gently in understanding as Notila's palms, still pressed together, fell and pointed at the human.

"So why do you torture me so and ask to have everything lopped off every time?!" The taurian demanded with a serious tone, 'almost' glaring at the customer.

"It's what I want?" Replied the human dumbly. Notila's mind crashed to a desktop before rebooting causing him to stutter in his response, his fists clenched immediately.

"Bu- You- It-" The taurian had to physically stop himself from allowing his now outstretched hands from throttling the beligerant alien. "Fine. You want to be shaved? We'll shave you." The taurian snapped, waving a dismissive hand above his head as if throwing the idea of anything else away. Having a small tantrum from being denied, Notila put away his tools and went to get his clippers, almost unused except for when the human arrived.

"You know shaving is seen as sickness or punishment right?" The taurian called back, grabbing the clippers from the drawer and sneering at them before stomping back in a display almost never seen in male taurians. They were meant to be grace, untouched by the world around them. But Notila had been denied his passion in his own shop one too many times.

In his defence, the human was not unaware of the taurian's distress, but knew that he couldn't be bothered to keep up with whatever design the exuberent taurian gave him.

"I didn't... but... Look... If you were to-" Sputtered the human, suddenly acutely aware something was wrong. His words however, sharked hope within the taurian's breast.

"*Yes?!*" Notila replied, practically running back over to his customer, and swinging himself around the back of the chair and landing against the counter the human was sat infront of. This was the furthest he had ever got with the fleshy alien; was he about to agree!?

"I'm not going to be able to keep up with whatever you do. It would look like a great hairstyle, but then tomorrow it would just be back to my usual messy style. I don't want to disappoint you by wearing it wrong." Explained the human carefully, trying to articulate the issue.

Notila took a breath, and hesitated before he answered with a calm and steady tone.

"So it's not that you're allergic to fashion?" He asked.

"No, I'm just lazy." Admitted the human.

"My dear, lazy I can deal with. You ever met my kind's 'other half'?" Grinned the taurian, merely mentioning the ladette ladies of his own species.

"So you wont care if I don't keep it up?" Questioned the man, unsure where this was going. If fiddling with his hair made the hornless flamboyant bull happy; why wouldn't he let him?

"Oh, I absolutely will. It would be like throwing mud at a painting the day after it was finished." Admitted Notila.

"Oh." The wind being stolen from the human's sails. "Then-"

"I will come to yours each morning and personally complete your hair." Interjected the alien with a sharp, toothy grin.

"Wha-" The human started, but lost his voice, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land.

"Let me style your hair, let me tame these beautifully long strands into art and I will make the effort to come to you any day you plan to be seen in public. If, by the time of your next haircut, you want to go back?" A casual shrug, foreign to the taurian normally, but he was appealing to the human at this moment; manners be damned.

"Then I shall never mention it again and will live my remaining days happy that I was able to show you your potential at least once."

The pair were sat in silence for a time, the taurian perfectly still, his many dangling bits of jewellery not even 'tinkling' together he was so still. Until he decided to push it just a bit further.

"After all, I can bring a squidgit to the water, but I cannot force it to drink." He finished with a grin, then showed his hands.

In his left; shearers.

In his right; scissors.

The human sighed and gave a flat smile again.

"I am a blank canvas. I trust you."

-- 0 --

When the human turned his head from one side to the other, he had to admit; he would have *never* picked this.

A mohawk, His sides were still shaved, but with intricate patterns and strange shapes gently sculped into his hair line. Not only that, but the dye that Notilas had used was special. As and when heat was applied; it would change colours gradually. The man had been shocked when Notilas had started using a hairdryer to dry off his hair and watched in the mirror how it went from a deep purple, to blue, to yellow, to red. The taurian was of course, grinning from ear to ear the entire time. Even the man's beard had not been safe from Notila's ministrations as swooping curls had been finely shaved into it using the very edge of a scalpel.

As the human stood from the chair, and looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting the hair and hairline, but also leaning in and running the tips of his fingers over the swirls in his beard; he liked how it felt, even if it was rather loud compared to his usual fare.

As the human straightened, his usual slouch; didn't suit the bold and powerful style.

Briefly frowning, the man straightened. His spine clicked as he pulled his shoulders back.

So long had the man spent trying to get by, he'd attempted to hide himself in plain sight. But the powerful symbol he now wore needed, or rather demanded attention.

Turning and checking himself in the full-length mirror, the human felt... seen.

"Huh..." He murmured.

"My dear human... If you had merely said it was a lack of habit, I would have offered this when you had first arrived. You deserve to be seen. I'm not ignorant to you or your people's plight. It is your, and your kind's duty to bellow and bleat against the crowd now. To be seen. Heard. If nothing else remembered."

The human smirked, still getting used to standing tall.

"Maybe you're right..."

"Of course I am. Look at me! I'm the great Notilas!"

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[sawwyfac3]

Sal Fisher SFW Alphabet A-P

Hi everyone! I know I’m not as active as I’d like to be but I am a student doing my GCSE’s during a pandemic and I deal with bad procrastination so I’m giving myself limited time on things that aren’t than work. But I’m writing some NSFW for Sal and Larry which is going to be out *VERY* soon along with some other head cannons. I hope your all happy, safe and hydrated! Have a nice day/night <3

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

- When Sal spends time with his S/O, sometimes you just lay down, and just talk about random things or how each others day went or even in complete silence, basking in each others warmth and the love you feel for one another. Other times you take time doing each others hobbies, such as Sal teaching you how to play guitar

- You don't go outside much though, as Sal prefers the safety and comfort of being indoors, but if you want to go to the park or something with him he won't object.

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

- What Sal admires most about you is your kindness, he thinks that your open mindedness and not judging others by first impression or appearance is the most beautiful thing about you. He also admires how you're able to see the beauty in anything, even in someone like him.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

- It depends on what type of person you are. If you require some alone time, Sal will do just that but he will check up on you occasionally. If you need human affection or someone to talk to, Sal's your guy.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

- He pictures his future with his S/O in a plethora of ways, he wouldn't mind getting married or having a kid or two and if he or you find out or realize that you can't have/don't want kids, he's fine having some fur babies instead.

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

- Sal is neither dominant or passive, you are both equal in your relationship

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

- He absolutely HATES it when you two fight, although it happens rarely, but when it does happens it's quite serious. Depending on the degree of the argument either he and his S/O will apologise and make up. However, if it's REALLY bad, your going to have to give him some time, this doesn't mean that he won't apologise or expect you to, he just needs time to collect himself and his thoughts.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

- He's not really spontaneous with gifts, he normally sticks to anniversaries but sometimes he finds a cool accessory that he thinks would suit you and gives it to you.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

- When Sal is in love it's kinda obvious, however because of his prosthetic it's harder to detect his emotions unless you've been around him for a while. Sal in love includes: awkwardness and stuttering, longing gazes and locking eyes for a little too long and him blushing HARD whenever you compliment him (when he blushes his ears go red)

Example: "Wow Sal! Your so good at playing guitar!" "I-uh, t-thanks Y/n!"

- Sal is a romantic at heart who expresses his love through words and affection, I headcannon that Sal is kinda touch starved, so he longs for intimacy in a relationship. In public he's too shy to full on cuddle or make out with you but he does put his arm around your shoulders and if he's feeling more confident, your waist. He also holds your hand EVERY TIME you walk together, mainly because he's afraid that if he lets go, something bad will happen and you'll never come back.

- He doesn't really brag but sometimes he rambles on about you and how amazing you are.

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

- The thing that first attracted Sal to you was your looks, he's not shallow but he doesn't mind a cute face. Later on he realised that he was full on attracted was when he got to know you and got to see your nature. His first impression of you was that you were a cute, kind person. So he wasn't too far off the accuracy scale.

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

- He doesn't really get jealous, he trusts you, but sometimes he can't help it. When Sal does deal with jealousy, he tries not to show it, but he's kinda bad at it as his tone of voice becomes a lot more deep and harsh and he gets more handsy with you.

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

- Surprisingly, Sal's a good kisser, even with little to no experience. Sal's a fast learner, so he soon learns what you both like and don't like. Your first kiss was sweet but short.

- (he practices kissing with his mask but you don't need to know that). He mostly kisses your lips, forehead and cheeks, if he's feeling a little saucy he'll kiss your collarbone or your neck.

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

- The little things Sal loves about his S/O is your little habits, such as doodling, playing with your hair, etc. Sal is very attentive, he notices things that even you didn't notice about yourself.

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

- Sal wants to get married, he just loves being domestic in general. Sal proposes to you after at least 5-6 years of dating, he would take you to Wendigo lake for a picnic and asks you to marry him as the sun sets.

- You and Sal's wedding would be a private affair, in a small venue with only close friends and family in attendance.

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

- He goes for the minimal, "babe" most of the time but sometimes he'll call you baby, sweetie, etc. You call Sal "babe" as well most of the time, but sometimes you call him honey, love and baby blue

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

- He hardly hides anything from you, but if it's something that could get you hurt or entirely out of his and your control, he'll try his best to keep it from you. But the thought of lying to you makes him feel sick to his stomach.

- It isn't really easy for him to share with someone he isn't close with but with you he feels like he can tell you anything.

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

- Sal has to make himself food when Henry isn't home, so he's a pretty decent cook. If his S/O is interested in cooking, he'll probably borrow some cook books of Lisa and try some different things. 

[here4theheartbreak]

Firelit First (TaeKook)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: taekook (Taehyung x Jungkook)

✩Genre: angst, smut, hybrid au

✩Rating: Explicit

✩Tags: smut, hybrid au, dragon-dog hybrid Taehyung, bunny hybrid Jungkook, first time, established relationship, bottom Jungkook, mating, licking, knotting, Bad Dragon, insecure Taehyung, fire breathing

✩Summary: They said a bunny and a dragon-dog would never work out. They were wrong in every way except for one. Jungkook’s need for physical intimacy - and Taehyung’s insecurity surrounding it - was driving a wedge between them.

✩Word Count: ~6.5k

✩A/N: Written for @btsholidaybingo​ - Square: Bonfire

What do a helicopter eared bunny rabbit and a dragon-Newfoundland fusion have in common?

According to Jin, the world’s sassiest hyena – nothing… Save for the fact that they both have crappy taste in boys. 

But Taehyung, the dragon-Newfoundland in question, believed that was wrong. His bunny boy, of course, did have a bad taste in men. He was dating him for God’s sake. But Jungkook was perfect. The two had grown up together, attending a prestigious hybrid boarding school in Seoul, along with Jin and Hoseok, and the rest of their little gang. As young children, the were separated by diet – the squirrels and chipmunks and bunnies and other pretty prey hybrids in one class; and the wolves, dogs, hyenas, tigers and yes – dragon, in the other. They were allowed to play together during recess, sternly supervised lest a wolf decide biting one of their gentle classmates was a better plan than playing tag. It was during these recesses that the group met, and stayed strong throughout the grades. As they aged and became more in control of their less human urges, the classes combined, and their friendship grew even deeper.

Not that Jungkook’s parents were very happy. The first time he brought home a damned dragon playmate for a weekend trip back home they nearly called the police. Dragons were rare hybrids, only a few families existing worldwide. And Taehyung – a dragon crossed with a dog – was a medical miracle. Fusions were one in a million, especially fusions of such a different species type.

Yet there he was, all arms and black hair and wings, even folded up tightly, too big for his gawky body. His tail was long and thick, covered in shaggy black fur, always wagging. Across the bridge of his nose and streaking down his arms was a smattering of sparkling emerald green scales. His eyes were a striking, unnatural gold color and – when he got extra excited, angry, or otherwise, puffs of hot smoke would bubble up from his lungs. Though the rumor was he could easily burn down a town with one breath, actual fire was far harder for Taehyung to form; the limitations of his human and dog DNA interfering with the dragon inside him.

Despite the worries that Taehyung would injure Jungkook in some way, their friendship blossomed, and formed something far more intimate by the time they reached high school. As other hybrids paired off and found boyfriends and girlfriends of similar species, or of humans, their group of misfits remained mostly together. Jin was found making out with the shy, soft-spoken squirrel, Hoseok. Their broody, panther Yoongi, took the fiery, hyper fox Jimin to their first prom, and intelligent, and quick bat Namjoon ended up with the feisty meerkat Halsey. It was only natural that soft, gentle bunny Jungkook with ears too long and body too big for his prey DNA would end up with the dragon-dog.

 They stayed together throughout high school, college, and moved in together as soon as they both graduated. Everyone knew someday they probably would consider marriage, though both of them thought the idea of it was somewhat outdated and unnecessary. And now, as young men in their twenties – they could not be happier.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Taehyung had finished his week’s work early. He decided it would be great to go home and surprise Jungkook, who had the day off. Maybe they could go down south for the weekend to visit Jungkook’s parents. It had been a while since he had a full weekend to himself. 

As he rounded the corner to head to their bedroom, he heard a deep, low moan. Taehyung hesitated. That… Sounded like Jungkook. Panic clenched his chest. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t do that. They’d been together for too long, and there’d never been a hint of an affair. Taehyung knew he was lacking in bed… But he worked hard to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. Not easy, given his boyfriend had the sex drive of the animal side of himself, but Taehyung did his best. An affair wouldn’t be unexpected, Taehyung supposed as he crept closer to their shut bedroom. He could hear Jungkook panting even through the closed door, punctuated by soft moans and the creak of their bed. Taehyung’s heart sank. Who was it going to be? One of their friends? A stranger? Another rabbit? Another gentle, soft prey animal hybrid? Scenario after scenario raced through his mind as he reached for the doorknob. He could just wait, he supposed. Sit in the living room, let the guy leave. But he needed to see with his own two eyes.

He grabbed the door and opened it slowly, trying not to make it squeak. Another creep forward and he peeked his head into the room. 

Jungkook was on his hands and knees on the bed, nude. His tan skin was glistening with sweat. His head was hung, one ear folded back comfortably, the other – which had been damaged when he was younger and always stood a little crooked, was hanging down more like a lop ear. Even from the doorway Taehyung could see his mouth hanging open, nose – dusted with a fine, silky fur and dotted with little white spots, twitching with excitement. But behind him, where his white nubbin tail stood high as it could go, was not a human, or hybrid, or anything living. Rather, it was a dildo, attached to the wall by suction. 

When he went forward, exposing more of the toy, Taehyung could see that it was thick and bulbous, with what looked like scaled ridges along the base. The color faded from purple to green to a blackish near the tip, with a glittery silver that seemed to sparkle in the lights. Jungkook was thoroughly enjoying himself, his cock twitching and leaking between his legs, moans and whimpers slipping from his mouth as he fucked himself onto it. It wasn’t human, that was for sure. 

“Jungkook.” Taehyung spoke firm and clear.

Jungkook yelped, pulling off the large toy. He scrambled to cover himself with a sheet, as if the dildo on the wall didn’t give away what he was doing. When he was totally off it, Taehyung was able to see the severe curve and the ridges more clearly, as well as the pointed tip and the base, which was covered with scales. It was reptilian, for sure. It looked, much to Taehyung’s disgust, like a horrible rendition of a dragon. 

“Taehyung! You’re home early,” Jungkook stuttered. 

Taehyung entered the room. Jungkook reached for the toy but Taehyung was faster, swiping it and yanking it from the wall. He held it in his hand, gauging the thickness. His wings gave an annoyed flap, ruffling Jungkook’s hair and a few papers on the desk. 

“What is this?”

“It’s a dildo, Tae.” Jungkook pouted. “I’m a grown up, I’m allowed to own a dildo.”

“Is this a dragon?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “So what if it is?”

“You’re dating a dragon. Do you realize how offensive this is?”

Jungkook crossed his arms, his ears flattening down in annoyance. “A dragon that won’t give me his dick no matter how much I beg. Least I can do is feel it through a toy.”

Taehyung blinked in surprise. His shoulders sagged a little. “Jungkook…”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jungkook rose and grabbed the toy from Taehyung’s hands. He brushed past him, pulling on his shorts. 

“Where are you going?” Taehyung called, chasing after Jungkook as he walked out of the room. 

He went into the bathroom, washing the toy gently. He met Taehyung’s glare in the mirror. “What?”

“It barely looks like me,” he mumbled.

“Not that I would know. You do everything you can not to show me your dick.”

“I make you come other ways.”

“So?” Jungkook turned, splashing water as he did. “You think that’s the same? We’ve been dating forever, Tae. How do you think it makes me feel when you refuse to fuck me? All of our friends lost their virginity years ago. Making me come with your fingers or mouth or our toys isn’t nearly the same. And, you never let me pleasure you. You always go hide out in the bathroom and jerk off. Are you really so disgusted by me? Is it because I’m a bunny? Am I not good enough to turn you on?” As Jungkook ranted his anger shifted to something desperate His eyes, big and doe-ish on a good day, were even larger, wet with unshed tears of frustration. 

“Jungkook, no,” Taehyung said, closing the gap between them to try and hug his lover. Jungkook pushed him back, turning back to the sink. He began to scrub the toy again with a renewed vigor. 

“I don’t think you’re disgusting, Jungkook. I—” Taehyung saw Jungkook’s shoulders shake, his ears hanging down dejectedly.

“Don’t cry, bunny boy,” Taehyung pleaded. He wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He kissed and licked gently at the soft skin there, whimpering. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Why won’t you take me to bed?” Jungkook whispered. “I try not to let it bother me, but I—You know what I am. You know how I am.”

“I know. I thought I was doing a good job satisfying you. I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I’ll try harder.”

“No!” Jungkook jerked away, shoving Taehyung back. “Get off me. I don’t want you to try harder. I don’t want you to finger fuck me or suck my dick.”

Taehyung’s entire body sagged, his tail and the ends of his wings brushing the cool linoleum. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me!” Jungkook cried, whipping around. “I want to feel that connection with you. I want to know I don’t disgust you. It’s been a decade. Why won’t you tell me the truth? What are you so afraid of?”

“Hurting you,” Taehyung said, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m scared of hurting you.”

“I’m not some tiny breakable baby,” Jungkook said, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. His ears were flattened to his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sick that you even think that. You know that predator-prey shit is bullshit!”

“It’s not because of that, Jungkook. Don’t you dare accuse me of that.”

“Then what is it?!”

“I have a knot!” Taehyung shouted, finally losing his temper. “All these years I hid it from you because my cock is deformed. It’s hideous and it’s scary and nobody would want that. I’m a monster, Jungkook. Your parents said it enough while we were growing up and it’s the truth. You wouldn’t want to fuck me if you saw my cock and I wouldn’t blame you for packing up and leaving.”

Jungkook’s expression softened, his shoulders and fists relaxing. “A lot of hybrids have knots, Taehyung. Why would you be so scared of that? You’re half dog. It makes sense.”

“Because it’s a dragon’s cock. But it has a knot at the base. It’s horrible. And it’s…” He drifted off. It’s big. And even bigger with the stupid knot. And I can’t prevent it from happening. Every time I come it… Just … Pops and I—” He shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. His wings fluttered, folding in front of him like a leathery cloak. “I know you’re not a tiny baby, but I’m afraid it’ll hurt you,” he finished.

Jungkook pouted a little, tilting his head. His one floppy ear tilted further, hanging down. His nose twitched in thought. He reached back, grabbing the dragon toy in the sink. He held it out to Taehyung.

“Is it bigger than this?”

Taehyung nodded. 

“By how much? Without the knot.”

Taehyung reached out and looped his forefinger and thumb around the biggest part. He added another few centimeters.

“And with?” Jungkook pressed. 

Another hand slipped out of his wing cocoon, first fingers together and thumbs together, around the size of a softball.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Taehyung folded back in on himself, his cheeks mottled red with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry. I—I think I’ll go stay at Jin’s tonight. Give you a chance to… Decide.” 

Jungkook frowned further. “Decide?”

“If you’re gonna leave me. And pack up, when you do…” Taehyung felt tears burning his nose and whimpered softly. He huffed and shook a little, folding his wings back and holding his head high. “I’m sorry I strung you on this long. It wasn’t fair of me to assume you’d be okay with what I couldn’t do.” He tried to smile, but knew it likely fell flat.

Jungkook’s face drooped further. “Are you dumping me?”

Taehyung looked down. He knew it would be for the best. Just end it, stop stringing him along, promising something he’d never be able to offer. “I just want you to be happy. And satisfied. And I can’t –” He looked at the dildo in Jungkook’s hand. “I can’t do that for you.” He smiled weakly and shrugged. “Your parents were right after all.”

Jungkook’s head tilted in confusion. 

Taehyung shrugged. “I’d never be able to give you a happy life. I’m just dog.” He turned to go, brushing past Jungkook. He considered heading to the bedroom, grabbing a few things, but decided against it. Best just to leave. He was so humiliated and ashamed. He should have come clean with Jungkook early on in their relationship, he knew it. He felt horrible for lying the way he had.

Jungkook bounded out of the bathroom, skidding to a stop in front of Taehyung. He shoved him back. “You don’t get to break up with me.”

Taehyung blinked lamely. “I—”

“Shut up.” 

Taehyung closed his mouth. 

Jungkook smiled a little. “You really are noisy. I thought big dogs were supposed to be quiet.” 

Taehyung huffed, twin puffs of smoke coming from his nostrils. It was a common joke between them – his hyperactivity was nothing like the large, laid back Newfoundland that made up a part of his DNA. 

Jungkook smile grew, his nose crinkling. “Since you wanna be noisy though…” He sank to his knees, his hands going to Taehyung’s belt. He managed to unhook it and begin working Taehyung’s zipper down before Taehyung realized what was happening. He yelped and jumped back, his wings spreading fast enough to knock over a pile of books on the nearby shelf. He flapped them once, and Jungkook giggle, shaking his head. “Come back here. I’m gonna suck your dick.”

“Jungkook!” Taehyung cried, surprised at the brazenness of his boyfriend. Undeterred, Jungkook crawled forward, nuzzling against Taehyung’s crotch. 

“I want it, Tae.” He looked up at him, his mouth pressed against the bulge of Taehyung’s cock. “I want you to take me. Tonight. I wanna feel you inside of me.”

When Taehyung didn’t respond, Jungkook sighed. He rose and grabbed Taehyung’s hands. “I get why you hid it. I’m not mad. I’m sad that you felt you had to, that you were scared of what I’d do… I get it.”

Taehyung lowered his gaze. 

“But,” Jungkook pressed. “That doesn’t mean you get to go back into hiding. You told me what it is you’re scared of, and I didn’t go running for the hills. And I’m not going to. I love you, you big dumb dog. And I still want you. Both as my boyfriend… And as the man who takes my virginity.”

“Jungkook—”

“It won’t hurt me. I might have bunny DNA but I’m not some tiny little thing that’ll tear in two. I know I can take it. Didn’t you see me taking Kelvin?”

Taehyung spluttered. “It has a name?”

Jungkook giggled and nodded. “It does… But I’d rather be taking Taehyung.” He cupped Taehyung through his jeans. “Please trust that I know my body. That I won’t break.”

Taehyung bared his teeth, another puff of smoke breaking over Jungkook’s face. 

Jungkook giggled. “I can feel you getting worked up.”

“You’re grabbing my dick, of course I’m getting worked up.”

“Then will you do it? I don’t mean to push you. But … Is the knot and the size the only thing keeping you from taking me?”

Taehyung nodded. “I’ve wanted for so long to make love to you,” he admitted.

“Then if those weren’t an issue…”

Taehyung nodded, his eyes slipping shut. Jungkook was on the nose – if it weren’t for his anxiety surrounding his dick, he would have made love to Jungkook years ago.

“So say they’re not. If they end up being an issue, fine, we can deal with it. Better to have tried and failed than not have tried at all, right?”

“You shouldn’t be so wise with your hand on a cock,” Taehyung mumbled with no venom. Jungkook laughed. 

“So is that a yes? You’ll try with me?”

Taehyung hesitated. He opened his eyes searching Jungkook’s bright, perfect face. He reached up, stroking over his ears. “Yeah, it’s a yes.”

Jungkook’s grin widened. He sank back to his knees, but Taehyung grabbed him, hauling him back up. “But not right now.”

Jungkook’s pout was so adorable Taehyung nearly gave in. He shook his head though, thumbing Jungkook’s velvety soft nose. “Tonight. If you’re going to have sex with a dragon we’re going to do it right.”

“There’s a right way?”

Taehyung nodded. “A way all the men in my family took their lovers for the first time. It’s tradition.”

Jungkook grinned and nodded. “Of course. When?”

Taehyung glanced at his watch. “It’s three now. Why don’t you go take a shower. I’ll go out, get a few things. And then be back home by five to pick you up for dinner and then… After…”

Jungkook nodded eagerly. He backed up, heading to the bathroom, but Taehyung grabbed his wrist. 

“No using that horrible Kelvin. No jerking off before tonight, okay?”

“I promise,” Jungkook said.

“And… Prep yourself a little, in the shower.”

Jungkook nodded again. He approached Taehyung folding himself into his arms and kissing over a spot of scales on the curve of his neck. “I’m so excited for tonight.”

“Me too,” Taehyung whispered. And he was, if he was being honest. Scared… But excited.

He let Jungkook hurry off to the bathroom before grabbing his keys and slipping his shoes back on, heading out to buy a few necessary items and plan for the evening.

When Taehyung returned, he could hear Jungkook singing from the bedroom. The sound warmed his heart. As quiet as he could, he snuck up and peeked in, watching Jungkook apply just a little makeup to his eyes. He didn’t need it, Taehyung had told him a thousand times, but it did look beautiful. 

“Ready?” He asked when the eyeliner pen was a safe distance from Jungkook’s eye. His boyfriend jumped, his ears twitching back. 

“You scared me,” Jungkook complained.

“Sorry.”

Taehyung entered fully, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s middle. He nuzzled his neck, kissing it gently before curving his neck up and letting his teeth graze Jungkook’s fuzzy ear. “You look great. And smell even better.”

“It’s the cologne you like,” Jungkook said, smiling at him through the mirror. “I’m ready. Where are we going?”

“Just someplace to get some food. A nice dinner and then we’ll be headed to a more secluded spot.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, his nose twitching. “What do you mean?”

“Trust me. Get your coat on, I gotta change really quick.”

Jungkook nodded. He grabbed lip balm, applying a little before pocketing it and bouncing out of the room. 

Their dinner was quiet and smooth, a natural ease of just being together that had been formed from the number of years spent in one another’s company. Despite the knowledge of what would be (hopefully) happening later that evening, the meal flowed with no tension or awkwardness, even when the waiter did a double take and very nearly dropped their drinks at the sight of Taehyung’s thick, leathery wings, topped with fur. It wasn’t a new thing; there weren’t many dragons and Taehyung, despite his kind, timid nature, was eye catching. 

When dinner ended, Taehyung began to drive, still keeping Jungkook in the dark about where they were going. He knew Jungkook trusted him, and hoped this was a pleasant surprise. Up, toward the mountains they went, and Jungkook’s excitement and curiosity was beginning to bubble over. 

“You won’t give me any hints?” He asked for the fifth time.

Taehyung only smiled, reaching over and stroking his floppy ear. “I will not. Settle down, would you? You’re wiggling all over the place.”

“I’m curious,” Jungkook whined. 

“We’re almost there.”

Jungkook huffed, pouting a little and looking out the window. “Are we going camping?”

“Something like that.”

Jungkook wiggled excitedly, grinning. “We haven’t camped in forever. It’s such a nice day to do it too.”

Taehyung nodded, turning a curve. He parked in front of an open field. Jungkook tilted his head. “Here?”

“Here.” Taehyung got out and circled around to the trunk, pulling out a few bags of things he’d purchased. He heard Jungkook get out and take off, and glanced up to see Jungkook darting into the field, burning off some of the nervous energy he must have built up in the car. 

He rushed back, breathing heavily. “What is that big black spot in the field? The dirt one.”

“That’s for a bonfire.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Are we gonna have one?”

Taehyung smirked. He shut the trunk and set the bags down, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist. He dragged him close. “What kind of dragon would I be if I didn’t make love to my mate in front of a fire?”

“Mate?” Jungkook squeaked. 

Taehyung smiled shyly. He let go of Jungkook’s waist and grabbed the bags, hurrying toward the center of the field. He had worked hard to avoid that term. It was outdated and he knew a lot of people took offense to it, especially since it was so animalistic in some people’s minds. But for dragons – mate was the highest honor. He wondered it Jungkook knew that, or if he’d be offended. When they were a new couple, Taehyung’s parents had warned him that a prey animal would never make a good life partner for someone like Taehyung… But to a dragon, isn’t everything prey? He loved Jungkook. And this felt right. He was terrified, he knew, as he set up a little base of padding and some soft blankets near where the fire would be. It could all go south fast, but he was trying to remain optimistic. He could feel Jungkook watching him, but continued to putter about, laying out a little cooler of snacks and drinks for them, a little black bag with some more adult natured items, and finally walking around to gather up some firewood and kindling for the bonfire. 

“Can I light it?” Jungkook finally asked, crouching next to Taehyung as he set up the wood. Taehyung grinned and huffed, puffing a little smoke from his nostrils. 

“Can you breathe fire?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna? You almost never—”

“Tradition.”

Jungkook nodded. He scooted back, watching Taehyung eagerly. Taehyung chuckled. 

“You’re gonna give me performance anxiety.”

“Sorry… I just never get to see you do it. You’re so shy about it.”

“It takes a lot of effort is all.” Taehyung looked over. “But you’re worth it.”

He let his wings splay out, flicking gently as he inhaled deep puffs of air. He began to puff out smoke, first light – almost white puffs, and slowly darkening. 

Little sparks appeared next, stinging the soft meat of his tongue. He furrowed his brows and blew out again, a warmth growing in his chest. And again, it was almost uncomfortable now – there it was. A third time, his mouth open wider now, tongue flatted against the bottom of his mouth to avoid scalding as a lick of flame, vibrant red and green shifting in a way only the fire of a dragon could, shot out. It caught the small stick in his hand and lit it, chewing through the wood fast enough that Taehyung had to throw it onto the fire lest his hand end up singed. The kindling caught immediately and Jungkook gasped next to him, falling back on his butt. Taehyung smirked, pride swelling in his chest as the fire sparked green and purple and red. 

“It’s so pretty,” Jungkook praised.

“All for you,” Taehyung said softly, reaching out and stroking Jungkook’s cheek. “It’s tradition to take your mate beside a bonfire made just for them. Usually it’s in front of a cave but I couldn’t find one I felt safe sleeping in with a dragon’s fire, so a camping field will have to do.”

“It’s perfect, Tae.” Jungkook moved close to him, snuggling against his neck. Taehyung’s tail thumped happily on the dirt, and he nuzzled Jungkook’s soft, floppy ear.

“Mate,” Jungkook whispered. “Do you hate me calling you that?”

“Why haven’t you before?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I didn’t want to offend you. I know a lot of people think it’s gross.”

“But I know it means something special for your species. I’m honored. Don’t stop using it, okay?”

“I won’t.” Taehyung kissed along Jungkook’s neck. “Never.” He pushed him down onto the soft blankets next to the fire and laid over him, kissing him deeply.

The kiss deepened naturally, as it tended to between the two. Taehyung slid his hand down, cupping Jungkook through his jeans. He began so squeeze and rub gently, feeling Jungkook begin to stiffen under the rough denim. 

Jungkook slid his hands down Taehyung’s hips. 

“Lemme see you,” Jungkook whined when Taehyung instinctively twitched his hips away from the hand wandering toward his crotch. “Lemme see your cock.”

Taehyung hesitated. He needed to show it one way or another, maybe it was best to get it out of the way now, so they could stop if they needed to with less damage. 

Jungkook, seeming to sense his hesitation, whined again. He spread his legs, squeezing his own cock, the outline visible in his jeans. “You’re gonna fuck me for the first time tonight,” he panted. “Bet you’ve got so much to give me. All these years just jerking off... You can’t come as well when you’re just using your hand.”

Taehyung shuddered, his tail wagging. His own cock throbbed in the confines of his jeans, the dirty talk twisting his stomach up in knots. 

Jungkook giggled. He reached out, cupping Taehyung’s thickening bulge.

“Already so big. This is what you’re gonna knot me with? Make me your mate? Ruin me for anything else?” 

Taehyung growled low in his chest. “Your ass is never gonna have anything in it except my tongue and my cock.” 

Jungkook smirked. “Oops, I broke that rule. Take off my pants and I’ll show you a present.” 

Taehyung obeyed, stripping his jeans and boxers. He gasped when Jungkook spread his legs. Peeking out of his hole was a silver anal plug, buried deep inside him. 

“I wanted you to be able to fuck me faster. It’s the biggest one I own, just a little smaller than my toy.”

Taehyung swore, tugging the silver base until Jungkook’s hole began to stretch around it and he moaned sharply. 

“Please. Lemme see it,” Jungkook begged again. 

Taehyung nodded, relenting this time. He rose and stripped down to his boxers. Jungkook sat up, pulling his remaining clothes off. He grabbed Taehyung’s boxers and tugged them off slowly. 

Taehyung’s cock sprang free, stiff with the promise of sex. It was thick and long, with a pointed tip and a flared head. Running down the shaft were thick, green oblong scales forming firm ridges and matching his facial scale color. At the base of his cock was a patch of skin, loose and moveable, but slowly filling and swelling already. 

Jungkook moaned needily, stroking the shaft. “Lemme suck it?” He begged. 

Taehyung’s mouth hung open, mostly shocked that Jungkook didn’t run at the first sight of his ugly cock. He nodded lamely. 

Jungkook went forward, easily swallowing half of his cock down. Taehyung’s hips jerked forward. He bit back a moan, his tail wagging gently.

Jungkook pulled back. “No need to go gently. I don’t have much of a reflex.” 

Taehyung nodded. He stroked Jungkook’s soft ears before using them to drag him back onto his cock. He held him still as he thrusted forward three times. Jungkook’s throat fluttered the first time, and the second he gagged softly. By the third he was relaxed, easily letting Taehyung’s cock slip down his throat. 

Taehyung couldn’t look away as he used Jungkook’s willing, warm mouth. His cock was out, it was in Jungkook in some form, yet he was unphased. His cock was still hard between his thighs, his eyes crinkled up in a smile as he swallowed around Taehyung’s cock and snuck quick breaths of air between the thrusts.

Taehyung pulled back, drawing in a shaky breath. “Gotta stop or I’m gonna come.” 

“Then it’s time,” Jungkook said eagerly. He laid down and grabbed the little black baggie nearby. He passed Taehyung the lube, relaxing. 

Taehyung took a shaky breath. He pulled the plug free, smirking at the wet pop it made.  He drove three lube slicked fingers into Jungkook’s ass. He stretched him a little more, determined to make sure this wouldn’t hurt Jungkook in any way if it could be helped. 

When he determined he was stretched enough, he withdrew his fingers, slicking up his cock instead.

“Just relax,” he said lining up his cock. Jungkook’s hole was tight around Taehyung’s cock as he nudged the tip in for the first time. He could feel Jungkook’s rapid pulse, fluttering the tight rim. Jungkook remained silent, his bottom lip between his teeth. His hands were relaxed on Taehyung’s thighs, and his cock remained hard, dribbling precome onto his smooth belly.

Slow and steady; Taehyung knew this was no challenge for Jungkook, based on that toy he’d had buried in his hole earlier in the day. The thought made a small flame of anger bubble up, and he snapped his hips forward. Jungkook’s hole was his. 

Jungkook gasped, the motion causing his tip to slide fully in, the flared head nestling tight against the rings of muscle in Jungkook’s ass. Their gazes met and Taehyung smirked.

“My little bunny boy’s no longer a virgin.”

Jungkook giggled, his folded ear twitching up.

“And I didn’t break in two. I’m still so hard,” he whined, reaching down to stroke his cock. “I need you, Taehyung.”

“You sure?” He teased, pushing forward. The ridges of his cock slid in slowly, making Jungkook whine on each one. “Maybe you’d rather your toy dragon still?”

“Never, oh!” 

His short nails bit into Taehyung’s hips when he slid another inch in, nestling the spot where his cock would swell with a knot against Jungkook’s opening.

“If I go all the way...” 

Jungkook grinned broadly. “Make me take your knot? Is it big?” 

He reached down, trying to feel for any indication of the size. Taehyung shivered, his tail giving a tentative little wag. 

“It’s about softball sized,” he panted.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Softball?” 

“You don’t have to take it. We can just do this.” He pulled back and slid in until he reached the swelling spot again. Jungkook moaned softly.

“No, I want it,” he panted. He spread his legs further and reached up, grabbing the firm bones at the top of Taehyung’s wings. “I know why you’re scared.”

Taehyung looked away, staring into the bonfire roaring next to them.

“Dragons — they mate for life.” 

Taehyung’s jaw twitched. He hesitated before answering. “Only in certain cases.”

Jungkook slid his hands over the soft fur covering Taehyung’s wing bones. “Your dad did. And I know there’s not many of your kind left. Dragons. Or fusions. I’ve been by your side since we were kids, Tae. You were my best friend in school, my first kiss, my first everything. I can’t imagine a future without you. I know the meaning of this. The fire, us...” Jungkook cupped Taehyung’s chin and turned his head to make him look at him. He smiled.

“This is for life.” 

Taehyung’s heart clenched at Jungkook’s words. He leaned forward, catching his mouth in a deep kiss as he pushed his hips forward, driving the last three inches deep into Jungkook. 

Jungkook shouted into his mouth, holding tight to his wings as Taehyung began to fuck him. He was aware, in the back of his mind, that he was being rough, but Jungkook was egging him on, moaning and shouting for it. His channel was hot and warm and perfect, molding itself to Taehyung’s cock as he pumped into him. 

Taehyung pulled back then and sat on the ground, his tail swiping up a dust cloud as it wagged rapidly. He pushed a finger into Jungkook’s beautifully gaped ass. 

“Come on, bunny boy,” he cooed, puffing a breath of smoke in Jungkook’s direction.

“Hop for me.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes deeply. He grinned as he did, scrambling up. Taehyung slid a hand down his back when he settled onto his lap, grabbing Jungkook’s sensitive tail. He used it to guide the younger onto his cock once more, moaning in harmony with Jungkook.

As he demanded, Jungkook began to bounce on his lap, his ass easily and eagerly taking the full length of Taehyung’s aching cock. His ears flopped as he moved, his front teeth bared as he huffed and whined, giving him quite an adorable appearance despite the fact that he was being fucked by a cock almost too big for his body.

Taehyung wrapped his arms tight around Jungkook, licking at the spot right behind his jaw that drove him crazy. His ass clenched around Taehyung, and he whimpered his name. 

“It’s starting,” Taehyung warned. He shoved forward, knocking Jungkook back onto his back on the blankets. He laid over him, huffing softly as he sped up. Jungkook hooked his legs around Taehyung’s middle, his back arching as Taehyung’s knot began to swell, catching on his rim. Taehyung could feel his body twitching, tugging, trying to adjust, but knew it was futile; once he came he’d stay buried inside his sweet lover for as long as it took, emptying himself of come and - ideally - pleasuring Jungkook until he could take no more. 

And he was well on his way it seemed. Jungkook clawed Taehyung’s back, sobbing his name.

“Please— I’m so close—“ He begged. He made an effort to grab at his cock, but Taehyung caught his wrist and pinned it, driving in particularly hard. 

“Don’t touch yourself when I’m fucking you,” he growled, a puff of smoke slipping from his nose. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back at the command. He let his legs fall open further and let out a high, needy whine. 

“Please— Taehyung,” he begged. Taehyung smirked. Jungkook had always liked being bossed around. 

“Come on my cock.”

Jungkook nodded. He began to writhe under Taehyung, meeting his thrusts. 

Taehyung knew it was coming to an end, far too soon, in his book. His balls were drawn tight, pressure building in the base of his cock and his stomach like a balloon filling with water. His knot began to swell faster and he whined.

“Jungkook—“ He knew he sounded desperate and strained... He was.

“Jungkook, please. It’s— I’ve gotta... Tell me.” He huffed, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Tell me if you want it or not.” 

Jungkook smiled softly then, looking surprisingly relaxed for as worked up as they both were. “I want it. I want you. Knot me. Come in me. I’m yours.” 

Taehyung roared, sounding more dragon-like than he ever had before. He tossed his head back, a burst of fire and smoke slipping from his lungs as he drove deep into Jungkook’s ass. His knot swelled to its maximum, too wide to slip free. His balls throbbed, tickled by Jungkook’s tail, as he spilled rope after rope of hot, thick come inside him. 

Under him, Jungkook screamed until his voice broke. Taehyung felt his cock jerk between their bellies, coating them both with splashes of come. He looked down, panic streaking through him when he saw tear tracks marking Jungkook’s cheeks. A second look though, and he noticed Jungkook smiling broadly. He looked up at Taehyung, his eyes wet. 

“Why are you crying?” Taehyung asked, his voice shaky as he tried to speak normally.

“You did it. You took me... I feel so good. I’m gonna come again, I—“ he gasped, screwing his eyes shut. Another tear slid down his cheek as his cock twitched and spilled, signaling a second orgasm. 

Taehyung leaned down, licking the tears from Jungkook’s cheeks. He giggled then moaned. He whined. “I can’t come again—“

Taehyung chuckled, leaning back to watch Jungkook’s cock dribble weak spurts of come.

“I’m gonna have you coming for a while,” he warned. 

Jungkook groaned, burying his face in his hands. He began to shudder softly, whining as Taehyung’s cock pulsed inside him.

Taehyung scooped him up, wiggling a little closer to the fire and wrapping his wings around him, safely cocooning Jungkook with him. 

He felt Jungkook’s tears on his shoulder even as his cock dribbled more come, shivering hard in Taehyung’s arms.

“I’m not sad—“ Jungkook panted.

“I know.”

“Just so— Ughh...” he sobbed weakly. “Overstimulated.”

“I know baby. Just let it out. So proud of you,” Taehyung cooed. His orgasm as faded, leaving behind just a pleasant tingle as his balls drained themselves inside Jungkook. He began to groom his shivering lover, nuzzling and nibbling his soft ears, scratching the sensitive skin of his lower back and tail. 

Finally, the intensity of Taehyung’s throbs decreased enough to stop steadily milking Jungkook’s prostate, allowing him to relax in Taehyung’s arms.

“How long?” He asked in a surprisingly small voice.

“Another ten or so,” Taehyung said. “Are you comfortable?”

“Sleepy.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “Wonder why. Sweet little bunny just got railed by a dragon.” 

Jungkook laughed tiredly. “Love story for the ages.”

“You can sleep though. You should sleep. I’ll be here.”

Jungkook looked up at him, smiling softly. “I love you, Taehyungie.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.” They shared a gentle kiss, and Jungkook drifted to sleep in his arms, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts.

They had finally made love. It was better than Taehyung had ever imagined it could be. Jungkook wasn’t scared of him – he seemed so pleasured by his cock, even though it wasn’t exactly dog, nor dragon, nor human… Their bodies just seemed to fit. And even now, as his knot softened inside Jungkook, the fear was leaving his body. Jungkook was his mate. Was the man he loved and would be with for the rest of his life. His parents – the world – they were wrong. Jungkook may have been a bunny, and he a dragon – but their hearts were human. And they were in love. 

[kazesuke]

KAZEEEEEEE HI I LOVE YOUR FACE can you do Levi and the cockwarming as he finishes his game perhaps in demon form with that tail being Inappropriate in the back? XD THANK YOU DEAREST I LOVE YOU OKAY BYE

Love you Reeeev 💖💖💖 Enjoy, I know I did~

Pairing: Levi/MC Rating: E Content: cockwarming, tail fucking, anal sex, vaginal sex, double penetration

Levi wasn’t sure when finishing a game like this had become not a distraction.

Well mostly. 

He laid back in his bed tub, game visible on the large monitor on his desk. His normie human warm and content against him, her body wet and tight around his cock. A shiver worked its way down his spine as her body fluttered around him and he felt the bright crimson blush on his cheeks. 

He couldn’t say he entirely got why she liked just having his cock inside her - maybe it was some normie thing??? - but he went along with it because she was warm and wet. 

And hell if he could truly say no to her if it wasn’t something he didn’t hate. 

His demon form was a new edition. Her breath ghosting over the scales that littered his neck and chest. Levi tried to maintain his cool but he knew he was a goner if her lips or tongue decided to trace them. 

No! No, he had to stay focused and finish this raid! H - he wouldn’t be distracted by how good her touches could feel or that when he shifted she’d clench around him and breathe out a soft moan. 

His tail evidently didn’t get the message. But he didn’t notice as it rubbed against her back like someone might absently rub comforting circles into their companions hand. 

The tip flicked up the side of her breast, making her shiver before the heavy length slid from her body and she could feel it poking at where they were joined, wriggling it’s way in alongside Levi’s cock as if it was looking for warmth. 

“L - Levi-” She stuttered out a moan, glancing up at the demon who seemed not to have been conscious of what his tail was doing. 

It was immediately pulled back, his face bright red. “So-Sorry!” The creak of the controller betrayed just how hard Levi was gripping it as he tried to bring himself under control. 

“I don’t mind.” Her words were quiet against his neck, softly embarrassed. His world narrowed to her before he turned back to the raid. 

“Wel - well fine.” He resumed gaming as though nothing had happened - even as a deep red settled across his cheeks.

Levi’s tail soon rubbed against her wet slit and a quiet gasp escaped her as his flexible tail squeezed into her tight pussy alongside his thick cock. Her head dropped to his shoulder as needy little whimpers escaped her, the tail moving slowly back and forth. 

She could feel Levi’s heart racing, his quiet grunts as everything tightened around him. M-maybe he could. He paused his game and slid his tail out of her pussy, the light caught on the glistening tip and he hurriedly buried his face in her hair. 

The tip soon found her ass, teasing at the tight ring of muscles and he felt her jump before a tentative moan escaped as his tail circled and teased. “I - Is it ok?”

“Y - yes - Levi!” She squealed as she’d barely gotten her answer out before his tail slowly but surely fucked into her ass. It eased in little by little, opening her up and filing another hole. 

She gasped and moaned into his shoulder, trembling in his hold as his fingers ran softly over her back. “F-feels so good. So - tight-” he breathed, hips beginning to rock up into her. His tail moved in tandem, filling her and leaving her achingly empty before thrusting again. 

She bit down on his shoulder, feeling him tremble with pleasure as she caught one of his scales in his mouth. She sucked on it as she tried to process the pleasure racing through her body and dragging her closer to her orgasm. 

Levi choked out a moan as she suddenly tightened around him, pulling him down into the abyss of pleasure. He rocked quickly through his orgasm, dropping every ounce of pleasure he could from her as she clenched and came around his cock and tail. 

He collapsed boneless into the tub, her body a heavy weight as all energy left them. He knew he should slip out of her but there was something oddly comfortable about it. 

Maybe a little while couldn’t hurt, right?

[shootingcookielover]

Janus and the pair of glasses

"Janus can't see.", The words fall from his mouth without much forethought, but as he says them he realizes... They're true.

"...what?", Virgil turns towards him, irritation written across his face.

Roman runs a hand through his hair. "Janus can't see.", he repeats, voice firmer this time.

Virgil stares at him for a few minutes, silence ringing out between them. "...what.", he then says, voice flat and the word a statement rather than a question.

"Didn't you ever ask yourself why he squints all the time?", Roman tries to elaborate, to get Virgil on the same page.

But he realizes he failed miserably, because of course Virgil didn't ask himself that. Roman didn't either, after all. He had just assumed Janus was... Evil and evilly squinted at everything.

"No, what I mean is--", the prince sighs and his shoulders drop. He sits down heavily in a convenient, near-by chair.

"I saw him, okay?"

Virgil raises his eyebrows at Roman's vague - and rather... Creepy - statement.

"Not like--!", The prince groans. "I mean, I wanted to go and... Talk, you know? But then his door was open and I peeked into his room and... Janus was just... Sitting on his bed, holding a book worryingly close to his face. He squinted like super hard and was clearly frustrated.", A short bit of silence before Roman concludes: "Virgil, I think Janus needs glasses."

The emo scoffs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "And that's our concern why?"

The prince leans back in his chair. "Well, I mean... He might be our adversary... But it wouldn't be a fair battle if he can't see!"

Virgil groans. "What do you want me to do? Walk up to his door with a pair of glasses and say: "These are for you, because you're blind!"?"

To his credit, Roman doesn't make the emo go alone. They still get the door smacked close right in their faces.

Another scoff rises from Virgil's throat and he none-too-gently pushes the glasses into Roman's hand before pulling the hood of his hoodie over his head. "I told you it wouldn't work!", He forces the words out as a mumble, though a tiny bit of his tempest tongue is already leaking into his voice.

Roman just stares at the glasses. He'd come up with the design himself. Sleek and modern, mostly black with yellow snakes along the frame.

"...Princey...?", Virgil turns towards his friend with worry in his eyes. "Hey...uhm. I'm sure he liked the idea and, uh, and your design! He just.... Didn't trust us enough to think.... That those are actually glasses..."

The emo places a comforting, if awkward, hand on the Prince's shoulder. Roman sighs.

"I know, I know. We both knew this was going to happen. I just wish...!", He lets out some air. "I don't know...."

Virgil debates with himself for a second, before taking ahold of the glasses again. He takes a deep breath and pushes open Janus' door.

The room behind it mirrors where Thomas currently is - the living room. Yet, somehow, the couch looks much plusher and more comfortable, there is a fuzzy carpet covering all of the floor. Ominous, yellow lighting filters into the room.

The snake-like side is currently busy cooing over one of his snakes - Margot, the destroyer of worlds - but turns abruptly at the sound of his door opening. "Virgil!", He exclaims, clearly unprepared. "You can't just--!"

Virgil interrupts with a practiced reply: "barge into the room while you're feeding your little ones?"

The words take Janus off-guard. He actually steps back, just once, his heel hitting the bottom of the snake enclosure. Margot wraps around his lower leg and makes her way up to his shoulders, to settle around his neck.

"I- yes.", He stutters out, clearly trying to regain his composure. "Exactly. I really don't want you to leave my room."

"Good.", Virgil says, then promptly plops down on the couch, pretending not to catch Janus' meaning. Once upon a time this would have gotten him an affectionate scoff or sigh.

Now it gets him a disturbed glance. "Why are you here, Virgil?", Janus questions, the words only slowly falling from his lips. He's stressing himself to tell the truth.

"I just wanted to give you these.", The emo answers, unfurling just enough to show off the glasses he is still holding. The snake narrows his eyes at him.

Although Virgil now knows it might just be him trying to actually make out what the emo is holding. Considering that, Virgil gets up and walks closer, showing off the glasses clearly.

"Why did you never tell me about your eyesight?", Virgil can't help but ask when the silence lasts. Janus slowly moves his gaze from the glasses to Virgil's eyes.

The gaze is uncomfortably familiar to the emo; that's how Logan and Patton look at things when not wearing glasses. It was always how Janus had always looked at everything.

"You were young and worried about everything. You really think I wanted to add onto that?", The other side answers, surprisingly honest.

"Oh.", He mumbles. "Well have this.", He shoves the glasses into Janus' hands. They don't accept his offering, and so the object falls to the ground.

Luckily for them, the plush carpet is soft and the glass doesn't break. "Please, consider wearing them. Please."

With a last incline of his head, Virgil speedwalks out of the room.

The door closes behind him and Virgil physically sinks against the nearest wall and slides to the floor. He pulls his hood up again, covering his head. "That was terrible!", He announces, the last word of his sentence portraying a worrying amount of his tempest tongue.

"You did it!", Roman whispers. The prince kneels down before the emo, who glares at him from beneath his hood.

"Thank you." Roman wants to pull the other into a hug, but knows that touch - especially surprising touch - doesn't sit right with Virgil.

The emo shrugs. "Whatever. C'mon let's go."

And with that they both sink out.

Janus, meanwhile, leans down to pick up the glasses. He is holding them now, turning them over in his hands to inspect them properly.

His gloved finger traces one of the snakes engraved in the side. Margot, still around his shoulders, gives a small hiss of indignation. "That'ssssss not what I look like!"

Janus chuckles and pets her head. "I know.", He replies in that same, hissing tone. "I know."

Their talk piques the other snakes' interest - well, mostly Mr. Butt's. (Maybe he shouldn't have let Remus and Virgil name his snakes...)

"What isssss it?", He asks, raising his head from the enclosure that runs along the entire wall of the room. "What do you have?"

Janus turns and kneels beside the enclosure, letting Margot slide off of him and back into her home. Then, he presents the glasses to the rest of his friends. (He adamantly refuses to call them pets.)

Mr. Butt, ever the curious one, gets the closest, sniffing the air around it with his tongue and actually hitting the glass once.

"Sssshe'sssss right.", He then concludes, lowering his head back down. "Doessssssn't look like ussssss."

Janus fondly strokes Mr. Butt's head, before standing up. With a small hum, he turns around and sits down on the couch.

As always it feels soft and so very pleasant. He doesn't feel the hum that lures you in and doesn't let you leave, that Virgil and Remus used to complain about, but he figures that it is because it's his room.

He's still holding the glasses, avoiding the final decision. Put them on.... Or not.

He can't deny that his eyesight is quite terrible by human standards. By snake standards it's actually quite alright.

He pulls one hand away from the glasses and traces the scales on his face. His hand quickly forms a fist against his cheek and he knows what he's decided.

With a wave of his hand the glasses are placed, set on a nearby shelf to be squinted at.

Janus knows there is no way Roman and Virgil of all people had come bearing him actual glasses to help him see. What kind of adversary would do that?

And, loath as he is to admit it, both the prince and the emo see him as the enemy. The latter stings much more than the former, though both hurt so he doesn't think it matters much.

A sigh escapes him, a sad, melancholy thing, before he turns to head up the stairs into his bedroom. There is little reason for him to be here and, right now, he would much prefer to curl up beneath his heat lamp in his most comfortable pajamas.

Days pass before the glasses cross Janus' mind again. It's early morning, much earlier than he usually gets up, but he's awake now, whether he likes it or not. Falling back asleep isn't an option, sadly.

So he trudges down the stairs to make himself and his friends, breakfast. They aren't yet awake, still dozing away in their enclosure.

Janus walks over and kneels down beside their home. He tentatively reaches out and softly strokes Bigfoot's head. The snake doesn't even stir.

With a fond huff of air he gets up. He turns and walks into the kitchen.

What he doesn't remember until it's too late is that his sense of balance and direction are quite muddled and off when he's tired. They lead him to smack face-first into the nearest shelf.

Something falls from it, giving a dull thump as it lands in his carpet. He frowns and bends down to pick it up.

What he ends up holding is the par of glasses Virgil had unceremoniously foisted upon him.

Neither Virgil nor Roman had brought it up again. Once, Janus believes he might have even seen Roman looking... Dejected.

If these are part of some scheme to get back at him...

No., He decides, the glasses can't be. It's simple, really. Neither the emo nor the prince are particularly good with long-term plans.

They would have given themselves away by actively pushing him towards the glasses.

But they hadn't.

So maybe... Just maybe...

The moment he is in a less tired headspace, he knows he's going to regret doing this, he thinks as he pushes the frames in his face.

His eyes are screwed shut at first, not quite wanting to face the humiliation of whatever prank he has fallen for.

But there is no sudden laughter, no ridicule. Nothing. Only a sleepy hiss from Sir Double D that sounds suspiciously like: "Lookssss good."

Carefully, he opens his eyes. Just a little at first.

But what he sees makes him open them wider. Bewilderment fills him as he looks around his room - looks and sees properly for the first time!

It makes him feel odd, the sudden... sharpness of everything, as if the world has tilted sideways and if he takes a step he might fall.

He leaves a hand to rest on the back of the couch, while the other grasps the shelf.

He can see the other side of his room from here, can make out the photos and pictures he had painstakingly put up so long ago.

Even though he is across the room he can make out what they are displaying, can see even his own little smile in one of them. The one where Remus has tackled him from behind to give him a mother's Day present. Without Virgil doing the same it had felt a lot less... Mocking. More like a reminder of what he had left.

The photo was taken by one of the hidden cameras Remus had hidden everywhere, that year.

Shooing the memories off to the side, Janus can't help but keep blinking, keep looking at everything. Because, for the first time in forever, he can, actually, see what he is looking at.

It's surreal and makes his head spin and the fact he is still tired doesn't help, he's sure.

He reaches up to pull the glasses off, to make himself more stable, but the moment they are gone, he finds the sight he'd thought normal for his entire life... Lacking. Horrible.

With a discontented hiss he puts the glasses back on. Slowly, careful not to knock anything else off his shelves, he makes his way towards the kitchen.

His stomach grumbles and he moves a bit quicker. But navigating while seeing, is quite hard. The hope that he gets accustomed to it quickly settles into him.

He doesn't go outside wearing them. That would give Virgil and Roman an unnecessary victory that Janus isn't ready for yet.

So instead he spends more and more time in his room, with his friends. Sometimes, he just... Looks. He looks and wishes to go out, to the imagination perhaps. To just see something more than his room.

The novelty of seeing it, sharp and in focus as he does now, has sadly already begun to wear off.

It makes him itch to go outside and explore and see what the rest of the mindscape actually looked like. To see those little details he must have missed everywhere.

To just... See.

Dinner is becoming something of a chore, he has to admit as he puts the glasses away. He pulls the capelet into a less crooked - he hopes, he can't really make it out - shape around his shoulders and sets off.

Since wearing the glasses for the first time, he has started squinting... More. It isn't a voluntary thing, more a reflex. As if his eyes are trying to imitate that sharp goodness his glasses provide.

He can also feel his coordination slip away, when he doesn't wear the frames, can't quite see. He bumps into things, more than even before putting the glasses on for the first time.

Needless to say, he barely leaves his room for anything, anymore. Only dinner can pull him from the confines of it and even then he is quiet and concentrating on his sight more than anything.

He doesn't realize Patton worries about his behaviour and especially not the concern that Logan shows for him.

Even Virgil and Roman have to begrudgingly admit that something must be wrong for the usually so social side to just... Bunker up in his room.

The only one who isn't worried is Remus. But that might just be because he has no idea what's going on, exactly. After an argument with Janus he's gone to the imagination to blow off steam - and that usually means he's gone at least a week or five.

So one day, when Janus finds himself being called upon, he is quite surprised. He just manages to pull off the glasses, to hide them away, before he appears.

He is in the living room, he thinks and now that he's seen his own version sharp and clear, he can't help but strain against the blurry entourage of shapes around him.

He wants to know what the difference between his and this room are. Wants to see them.

But he can't, not without giving himself away, without giving in, so he puts on his usual act.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?", He asks, voice all smooth and silk.

"We're worried about you.", Thomas says, plainly, and Janus' heart does a somersault.

"Yes. The behaviour you've exhibited in the past five days has been quite concerning. Are there any relevant changes that might have caused this? Something we should discuss?"

"I'm sorry!"

Janus blinks in confusion in Patton's general direction. He can't help but wonder what the light blue blob actually looks like.

"I should have been... Better!", He elaborates and... Did he just sob?!

Janus quickly puts up his hand in a placating manner. "No, no! It's, uh, not got anything to do with you!", He reassures, especially in Patton's direction. He doesn't quite now how to handle someone when they are upset; caring and empathy aren't his department.

"Then... It has something to do with Roman and Virgil?", Logan concludes and Janus starts.

"No, it's not-- ...", He breaks off the sentence before it can really begin, trying to figure out a way out of this... Without revealing anything.

That there might not be one becomes clearer and clearer by the second.

"Well if it has nothing do with any of us, then what is it? Are you, perhaps,.... Feeling", the logical side clearly struggled to get that word out, "upset?"

"Whatever it is I'm sorry and I want to make you feel better please let me help!"

Janus leans back, away from the noise. It's... Loud and loud is unpleasant and he needs to think right now. He can't think with everyone yelling and he can't concentrate and everything is just a tad too much---

"Stop!"

Virgil's voice, tempest tongue and all, cuts through the chaos and gives Janus' ears much needed reprieve. The snake glances up to the emo, standing just next to him on the stairs. He wishes he could make out Virgil's features.

"You're overwhelming him.", The anxious side clarifies.

With a sigh he turns towards Janus. "Dec--- Janus. If you ever cared for me, at all, please just tell me what's going on."

The words were clearly a hassle to get out, Janus could hear the strained sound of his voice. The snake gives a quiet hiss of discomfort.

His mind is turning itself inside out to find a way out of this - but there isn't one. Not unless he's willing to make everything worse and---

He does care for Virgil. That is perhaps the worst part. He wants to answer - truthfully - because of that alone. Because he misses the laughter that would echo through his room.

The banter and even the tiny arms clinging to him whenever something scared Virgil more than the tiny side wanted to admit.

With a defeated huff he flicked his wrist and summoned the glasses. "It's nothing... Quite as dramatic as you seem to think.", He manages to get out, trying to keep some sort of dignity.

He places the glasses on his nose and the sharpness of everything makes him feel better already. Patton's face is the first one he sees, being positioned opposite him and all.

The moral side's eyes are blown open wide in wonder. One of his hands reaches up to touch the frames of his own glasses, as if only through touch making the connection that they and the thing on Janus' face were the same.

The snake glances at Thomas who looks surprised more than anything.

Logan, next to him, simply inclines his head in a curt nod when he catches Janus' gaze.

When he turns to look at Virgil, the emo has a grin on his face that makes him want to immediately throw the glasses off and never talk about it again.

But he doesn't. Because, for the first time, he can actually, really see the eyeshadow beneath Virgil's eyes. The pattern on those patches Virgil had sown onto the jacket himself.

The white stitches surprised him more, though. With the giant blobs of black and purple around them, he'd never seen them before. Hadn't even known they existed.

Janus' sweeping gaze returned to Patton and Logan and Thomas and---

There were little details he had never realized before. The tiny white logos on Patton's and Logan's shirts. The paw prints on the sleeves of that hoodie Patton was wearing around his neck.

The colour of their eyes.

Thomas is the first to speak. "You wear glasses...?", He asks and Janus wants to sink out. Wants to pull off the glasses and yell "NO! It's just a joke!" And disappear.

Instead he starts picking at the seams of his gloves - very secretly - and answers. "I suppose you could say that."

Patton gives a squeal that makes Janus jolt in surprise. When the snake turns his gaze towards the moral side, Patton is gesturing from his glasses to Janus'.

"Glasses buddies!! Logan, we have a new glasses buddy!!"

The logical side adjusted his tie and inclined his head in agreement. "It appears so. Welcome to the club, Janus. Meetings are every Friday and start at precisely 2:13 in the afternoon."

"Wait that's an actual club?", Virgil interjects, amusement clear in his voice - and to Janus' continued astonishment - on his face. "I thought that was just a joke or something."

"Nope!", Patton happily exclaims, jumping in place.

"Well! It seems our worries were wrong!", Thomas says, finally, looking at Janus quite directly. The snake puts on his usual smirk though he feels a bit... Winded.

Thomas looks oddly... Beautiful like this.

He shoves the thought from his mind as soon as it comes up.

"I'm glad you're okay, Janus.", Thomas smiles and Janus' entire world lights up like that cake of fire Remus had made him once.

"Yeah.", Janus finds himself dizzily agreeing.

"Yeah."

Roman is delighted to find Janus likes the glasses, even though he does his best to mask his excitement.

Janus pretends the way Roman lights up like a child on Christmas morning whenever he sees the snake wearing the glasses, doesn't delight him in the slightest.

When he returns Remus teases him a bit about it, but doesn't make a big fuzz. He's already forgotten why they'd fought in the first place and simply delights everyone with his company again.

All in all, everything pretty much returns to normal after the "Big Reveal".

Only one thing really changes; Janus can't help but think Thomas a beautiful, beautiful man. For his personality he'd always thought that, but now his looks agreed as well.

When Janus goes to Logan with this - because he needs to talk about it with someone who will make sense of it - the logical side thinks it only rational that Thomas' self-preservation would see him in such a light.

Janus can't say he disagrees much.

--

There you go, Janus in glasses! Based on that one post that propositioned that Janus might need them.

I modelled Janus' reaction to putting on the glasses for the first time after my own. Trust me when I say it can be incredibly disorienting to suddenly just... Be able to see.

Anyway hope you enjoyed :D

[kieraswriting]

Searching for Home Chapter Four

Masterpost

When Virgil woke up his first thought was that he had to make himself worth it. If he wasn’t worth keeping around the fairy might send him back. 

He could… there were chores, but he didn’t know what they would be here, or how to do them, but he would do what he could. He could… what could he really do for a fairy? They liked enchanting people into dancing, if the stories were true. Or… well, it seemed like a lot of fairies liked killing people in strange ways, mostly making them do something until they dropped dead. 

But somehow, the only thought Virgil had in response to that was that at least the fairy would tell him what to do, how to be useful. It was the worst thing in the world to not know how to be useful when he was supposed to be. It wasn’t even like there was all that much an eight-year-old could do. 

The door opened, and Virgil flinched back, trying to pretend he was still asleep. 

The fairy came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. Virgil’s skin crawled, and he itched to get up and away. He lay there, growing more rigid and less convincingly ‘asleep’ every second. Finally, after what seemed like years, he cracked one eye open. 

The fairy was holding a small, bright white cloth, and was using it to scrub and polish a scale of some sort. He wasn’t looking at all at Virgil, and seemed very content with the simple task. Virgil carefully sat up, not quite looking at him. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” The fairy said. “Feeling any better?”

Virgil nodded silently, chewing on his lip. 

The fairy held up the scale. “Would you like to help?”

Virgil nodded immediately, and took the scale as it was handed to him. It was lighter than he had expected, almost clear around the edges where it was thin. 

“Just rub it carefully. Don’t press too hard.”

The cloth tingled as it touched his hands, and Virgil nearly dropped it. 

“Oh, yes the cloth is magical. It won’t harm you, don’t worry.”

Virgil looked up at the fairy, chewing absently on his lip. He started rubbing the cloth on the scale, and suddenly realised that it was strange. The cloth wasn’t larger, like most things were. 

The fairy left, and Virgil kept rubbing, surprised to see the scale grow more and more translucent, and vaguely purplish. He wondered when it was ‘done’. 

It was a good while later, perhaps half an hour, when the fairy came back, immediately touching the scale. “This is interesting. Were you aware that you have magic?”

“I do?” Virgil asked.

The fairy nodded. “I don’t know that you’ll be able to do much with it on it’s own, it doesn’t look very strong. Do you mind if I touch you?”

Virgil’s heart suddenly started pounding, and his breath quickened. He did not want to be touched, but the fairy had asked, rather than just doing it, but touching never went anywhere good, but would the fairy get mad if he said no?

“I don’t have to, don’t worry. But it does mean you’d be able to help me much more than I had thought, if you want to.”

It was exactly what he’d been hoping for. Virgil nodded immediately. 

The fairy sat down, a confused frown growing on his face. “You don’t want me to send you home.”

Virgil shook his head vehemently. 

“And you seem happy to work for me.”

Virgil nodded. 

“Why?”

Virgil’s brain stuttered to a halt, thoughts and memories rushing through too fast to make sense of. He looked down into his lap. 

“You’ve given me your name,” the fairy mused. “I suppose that means you’re mine. I haven’t ever had a human before. Has a fairy ever had you?”

Virgil shook his head, looking up now that the ‘why’ had been abandoned. 

“Then you’ll have to tell me when something goes wrong. And I’ll tell you too. We’re both inexperienced at this, and need to work together, yes?”

Virgil shrugged. 

The fairy let out a short breath. “Let’s start with, are you hungry?”

Virgil hesitated, but nodded. 

The fairy nodded decidedly. “And what would you like to eat?”

“Um… eggs?”

The fairy considered for a moment. “Have you ever eaten a robin egg?”

Virgil’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. 

The fairy grinned, and went outside. This time Virgil followed, wincing just slightly as he moved stiff muscles and aggravated bruises. 

Once outside, wings suddenly appeared on the fairy’s back, brilliantly gold, and propelling him quickly into the air. Virgil could now see that he had indeed been shrunk to the size of a fairy, as the forest loomed up huge around him. 

The fairy flew away, coming back only a few minutes later with a pale blue egg. 

He landed in front of Virgil, the wings vanishing. 

“How did you get a robin egg?” Virgil asked. “It’s fall.”

“I happen to enjoy eggs as well, and I have a very magical friend. Between those two things, there is now a very special robin that gets to live up in the tree.”

“Oh.”

The fairy managed to start a small fire in a fire pit, and pulled out a large pan from a little shed. While he cooked the egg, Virgil looked around. The fairy had several shed-like structures, most of them closed. But one was open, and had a spider in it, a spider that was nearly the size of a large cat. 

Virgil was instantly enamored, staring at the spider while keeping a safe distance. 

“She won’t bite you if you want to pet her,” the fairy said. 

Virgil hesitantly stepped forward, reaching a hand out carefully. The spider immediately scrambled towards him, crawling right up his torso. 

Virgil let out a cry and toppled backwards, but the spider just sat on his chest, staring down at him. He reached his hand up to pet the furry abdomen. To his surprise, the spider let out a trilling noise, sitting down on top of him.  

“Does she have a name?” Virgil asked. 

“Not yet.”

“Oh.”

After a few minutes, the fairy spoke again. “The egg is ready, come on and eat it while it’s hot.”

Virgil looked between him and the spider, his forehead furrowing. “But— she’s happy.”

“Just push her off. You two can play after you eat.”

Virgil grudgingly pushed the spider off of him, getting up and going over to the fairy. 

The robin egg tasted far more similar to a normal egg than he would have guessed. Or maybe it was just because the robin was made magical. 

“So what’s your—“ Virgil’s words fizzled out as his mind screamed at him. You can’t ask a fairy what their name is! “Um, I mean… can I call, um… name?”

To his surprise, the fairy let out an amused chuckle. “You can call me Dee.”

[lycanthrop-ee]

Sires and Sons

Chapter 2 of ? First chapter

A/N: Y’all know what time it is- I really don’t have much to say here except sorry for the cliffhanger ;)

Synopsis: When the twins split two years ago, Janus was tasked with raising Remus. His only help was the evasive and sullen Virgil- who he already had to wrangle like a stray teenager. The endless days in the Dark Side’s Mindpalace were broken only by monthly catch-ups with Patton, and the only thing that ever changed the stories that Janus used to get Remus to bed. This time, though, something was different: secrets were slipping through Janus’ lips- and past the divide between Dark and Light.

Ships: Moceit (probably just bg but I don’t actually know can you tell I’m a professional-)

TW: none! Let me know if there’s anything I should tag, though <3

Word count: 1303

As indirectly promised by the past statement on boredom, he was awoken by Remus’ tiny face four inches from his. When Janus flailed and sputtered, Remus explained himself. 

“I was trying to stare you awake!” He looked at Janus expectantly. “Get it?” 

Jan rubbed his eyes, letting out a tired sigh that turned quickly into a yawn. “Yeah.” 

“You’re supposed to laugh, Jan. Also, I ate your graham crackers,” Remus said, crawling up onto Janus’ bed as though he was scared of being dismissed too early. The older side almost pushed him off, but decided it was too early in the morning to be irritable. He also supposed it could go the other way, but he was feeling somewhat generous.

“Do you want something, Remus?”

“I was thinking.”

“Sure.”

“I want to know what the king was like.” Remus’ voice was calm and curious, as though he had no idea what he’d just said. Janus stuttered as a deep panic clutched him. 

“W- what?!”

“From the story?” The kid looked taken aback by Janus’ reaction, and after a couple moments of confusion it clicked. Janus let out a deep breath, blinking his bleary eyes tightly.

“From the story… God. Okay Remus, hold- hold on.” Remus looked scared, and Janus imagined how it would feel to have someone flip out on him like that. “I’m... sorry, kid.” He paused. “It’s early.” 

“...Okay.” Confusion still rang through his voice, and the fact that he couldn’t explain gnawed at Janus as he stood from his bed, stretching. He told Remus to wait as he went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He stood before the little side, and couldn’t help smiling at the kid’s bright face. Apparently Remus’ Vitamin D deficiency hadn’t yet reached his young features- it was still startling, even after all these years, and it stung him when Janus realized it was probably because his skin didn’t have anything to miss. This dark house was all he remembered.

“Can I tell the story over breakfast?” He spoke tiredly. The kid nodded, and they stumbled from Jan’s room together. The older side’s face twisted as a creeping feeling came over him. “...Re. How long were you watching me sleep?” 

His playful unease wasn’t helped in the slightest by Remus’ incessant giggling.

“The kingdom’s castle was full of cheer most days, with the tiny princes running around and whooping as the pâtissier chased them good-naturedly. Even so, there were fears and trials in the shadows of each royal’s mind.”

Remus was immediately interested.

“The baker’s job to float the mood of the castle weighed on him- every unpleasant feeling that crept to him was ignored and buried, only rearing its ugly head when he was alone. Eventually, the power of these mood swings had begun to startle him- and thus he elected to avoid those too. To this day, the emotions festered and bred deep in his stomach, collecting like a land mine waiting to detonate. He would rather die himself in the explosion than spread the damage over the people around him.

“The advisor had a similar problem. He existed for his intelligence, and only that. His brain is what brought him food and housing, friends and family. The glasses that perched on his nose were merely superfluous- he didn’t often need physical sight to advise the King- but he had accepted them as a luxury that may help his performance through quality of life. Irrespective, the advisor was human, and he had needs and thoughts outside of his work- the most prominent of which was his heart. It was mentioned earlier that only rarely a smile could be coaxed from him- and here is the reason. The advisors heart was fully functioning, pumping the correct amount of love and happiness through him- but with those feelings came fear.

“The biggest cause of fear in him was being forgotten- ignored. Losing his job and the love that he felt for it, losing his... coworkers. He couldn’t afford off days: what if there was an important decision for the King to make and he wasn’t in the right headspace? To avoid this situation, the advisor put all his energy into maintaining his facade- cool, smart, and calm. Like the pâtissier, he shuttled all other feelings away, hiding his fear and happiness both. He kept his eye on his only purpose, not seeing the unconditional love flowing towards him. His fear barred him from the truth- he wasn’t an employee, he was a part of the Royal family as much as the little princes were- as much as the King was.”

Remus had finished his bowl of cereal, sitting in his chair with legs swinging impatiently.

“What about the King? You told me you’d talk about him,” The child interrupted. Janus nodded. 

“I was just getting to him, Re.”

“And what about the princes? Are they actually sad, too?” Janus huffed a laugh, sizing up Remus’ little, carefree face.

“No, not yet.” This was clearly not the answer Remus had hoped for, but he would accept it as it was time to learn about the leader of the Light Side.

“The King was powerful and just, humorous and kind. His nonformal air was complemented nicely with the wisdom of his advisor, and his kingdom adored him unconditionally. Of course, he would be nothing without his Royal Family- they balanced the workload of a King almost equally, all working ceaselessly to keep the King in good humor and health. In return, he gave them a lavish home, grand titles, and a loving family.” Janus sat back, and Remus was quiet too for a moment.

“...Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Janus’ eyebrows raised at the thinly veiled protest.

“...For now.”

It was almost a question as he said it, but it seemed to appease the child, who nodded solemnly and hopped off his seat. Janus dragged his hands over his face, tired already.

Remus had demanded that they go outside and play Kings and Princes- he’d insisted on being the king, tugging at Janus’ heartstrings as he agreed. On the way home, Remus’ tiny hand fit into the adult’s lightly scaled one- there was no reason to keep it gloved anymore, it’d be months before Patton’s next visit- and the young side spoke again of the story he’d quickly become attached to.

“Why don’t the characters ever do anything? You just talk about them.” 

Janus considered his answer.

“I’m not sure what they’d do.”

“They’d have to solve a problem of the King’s- or maybe go on a quest- or-” 

Janus smiled as the kid rattled off a charged list of endeavors for the newly introduced crew, but his mind wandered. 

The paths the Dark Sides often explored weren’t dreary in any sense, but the wooded hollows they were forced to stick to were quiet different from the sunlit corridors of the remote forests. The trees here were mostly coniferous, tainting the air with the smell of pine sap. There were less predetermined trails- they were unnecessary, as the trees were already well separated and the ground was covered in orange needles. It would’ve been easy to get lost had the door back to the Mindscape been set in any liniar location, but it floated around the the whim of those around it. Still, it was a pleasant place for long walks, and Jan often only conjured the door once Remus’ cheeks grew pink with fatigue.

It was getting about that time, too, when Janus pulled up short.

The door was visible through the trees, and around it two figures. One of which was familiar- short and curly-haired- and the other less so, but recognisable. 

The smaller of the two turned, waving- and Janus could pinpoint the exact moment that Patton’s eyes fell on Remus. 

[trashyeggroll]

😙 prompt me as hard as you want

And YEAH I’m cherry-picking the order, but not skipping 😌

#38 - Lie

trashy’s note: I have watched the movie a handful of times and seen the extended scene with The Kneel, but it’s still unclear to me exactly how much Grace knew about being sent to the past—hence, this!

There was never quiet, anymore.

Dani Ramos remembered the concept well. Quiet nights walking home from the factory, long after Diego had punched his card. She remembered the stillness of her apartment complex, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in the misty morning hours. The way the rural expanses of road around her hometown seemed like another world, contrasted against the gleaming machinery of the auto plant.

But after Judgment Day, a truly new world emerged, and Dani wondered if she’d ever know that peace again. Legion never slept, and even if they weren’t aware of the Resistance’s exact locations, the Terminators and their ships were constantly roaring across the sky, with no need for subtlety. They were the dominant sentients in this world, after all. Explosions and the subsequent earthquakes from Legion’s quest for metals to replenish its armies were nearly as constant, whether shaking debris loose from walls or just a low, distant rumble. And on the worst days and nights, the notes between the battles were filled with the sounds of human suffering, pain and hunger and grief alike.

Tonight, Dani almost felt like joining them in the plaintive groans and wails. The day had been as loss-filled as any other, but there was also a rare win. It’d been a long time coming, hanging over the Commander’s head like a guillotine blade... Well, not exactly over Dani’s head.

She was sitting near the fire in her quarters at Resistance Base 473. They had safe areas all around the region, but never stayed in them for more than one night, to avoid a large-scale attack. In 473, which was mostly underground in old subway tunnels, Dani took rare advantage of her position for the private space, which looked to have been some sort of control room in a past life. It had a table, the fireplace, and a straw mattress piled with thick wool blankets... currently draped over the impossibly tall, sleeping form of Grace, whose feet were endearingly sticking out of the covers and touching the floor. She didn’t sleep often, after the augmentation procedure, and so Dani was watching her from her chair, enjoying the rare sight of Grace’s delicate features when her guard was completely down.

For years, Dani had managed to avoid telling Grace about the crisscrossing timelines. She knew that the Grace who’d shown up to save her life before Judgment Day was somewhere in her twenties, and augmented. So in her desperation to keep Grace safe, Dani had tried to stop her from joining the engineering division. She’d tried to keep her away from combat, to put as many barriers between Grace and herself as she possibly could... but just as dauntless as she was in the face of a REV-9, she was unstoppably dedicated to the Commander. And no other fighter, no matter how desperately Dani wanted them to succeed, had shown that they had what it took to be the Protector. Most of those whom Dani began to hope could be sent back had quickly been killed, in fact.

The sleeping Grace sighs and rolls slightly, the blankets falling away from her pale shoulder and exposing the even-paler scars from her augmentation. Technically speaking, she had already died once for Dani, whose whole plan to trick destiny had fallen to pieces when she took that head injury. The rest... seemed inevitable now. Sand, falling through her fingers.

And it threatened to hurt worse than the first time, when Grace had been a stoic stranger who’d shown up just when Dani’s world got turned upside-down. This time, Dani knew Grace as so much more. She’d seen the way those blue eyes could light up with joy, the crew joking together over dinner, and memorized the stutter of her laugh. They’d suffered meager victories and deep losses together, and Dani had never trusted a human being, other than her father and brother, as much as she trusted Grace in all things.

When she’d woken up from her head injury, confused and hurting, Grace hadn’t been there, and the disappointment and fear that stabbed at her heart had been almost enough to knock her out again. Eventually, she glared at the doctor long enough to be told about the crash, and the augmentation. It’d been weeks before they were well enough to regroup with the main forces, and Dani had unleashed on Grace the moment they were alone. She’d been so overcome with grief that she didn’t quite remember what it was she said, but the message had been clear: I didn’t want this for you.

The newly-enhanced Grace, of course, had stood at attention, spine straight, and weathered every word without flinching, until Dani demanded of her, Why?

“Because protecting humanity is my duty,” Grace had said, quietly. “And because nobody is going to protect you like I do.”

“Morales, Dinh, Ahmed—I have the best fighters in my unit.”

“Would you have rather I died that day?”

There was a heavy, dark moment where Dani almost said yes. For Grace to find peace. For Dani to not have to make a choice, when the time came, and send Grace to a third death. But the most human part of her, the messy, selfish bits of being a person that they were fighting to save from Legion’s machine coldness... wanted as much time with Grace as she could get. As much of Grace as she could get.

She didn’t quite remember who leaned forward first, but Dani was suddenly giving in to more of her mortal feelings, rocking up on her tiptoes as Grace’s arms folded over her waist, and their lips connected. It felt so good to give in, after all the worry and fear and withholding, and it wasn’t long before she was panting against Grace’s mouth, pulling at the buckles of her uniform, impatient and near-frantic at the feel of Grace’s tongue licking into her mouth, the strong hands lifting her cleanly off the floor to press the Commander into the wall, with one of Grace’s knees pushing between her legs.

They’d managed to keep their furtive, late-night “meetings” mostly quiet, if for no other reason than to not be a distraction to their operation, but before long, Grace was sleeping in the same bed with her every night, and Dani... Dani hated how much she’d come to find solace in it. Not just the physical activity, but also the after, falling asleep with Grace curled around her, Dani’s head on her chest. Waking up to Grace’s ridiculous bedhead, and the precious minutes between sleep and wakefulness, when they could be lazy and sluggish and cling to each other for just a few seconds longer.

But like the crocodile who followed Captain Hook, the team working on their one-way time travel device were getting ever-closer to unlocking the secret, racing against Legion. Grace knew someone needed to go back to protect Dani, and she’d volunteered herself dozens of times, though the Commander had always answered with, “We’ll see.”

The missing part of that was Dani’s great shame. Grace hadn’t asked, and probably considered it a possibility... but Dani knew. The Grace that would go back to save her would die, and despite all her efforts to stop the world from reaching this point, it seemed ever clearer that the loop would proceed as she remembered it. For all the times Dani had stood up to her own death and defeated the odds, for all the stories people told about her... She couldn’t tell Grace what would happen. The words would fail on her lips, every time.

Dani tore her eyes away from Grace when a synthetic log in the fire popped loudly, nearly startling her, and when she looked back, sleep-reddened blue eyes were blinking open and sharpening with consciousness.

“Hey,” greeted the Commander when Grace’s eyes found her.

“Hey. What are you doing over there?”

Dani shrugged, but got to her feet and shuffled over to the bed. “Couldn’t sleep. The engines are loud tonight.”

“I can’t believe I slept,” muttered Grace, sitting up and rolling her neck. “I need to talk to Chopra about my cocktail.”

“You deserved a good sleep.”

Grace grinned up at her, in that way that was so absurdly contrary to her status as an apex killer, and Dani felt heat pull at the back of her eyes. The blonde’s brow furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Other than the usual. Impending total annihilation.” Dani sniffed, and she let Dani tug her down into the bed, resting her head against Grace’s shoulder.

“Mmm. Well... might I suggest you let me distract you, for a little while?”

The Commander’s mood was dour enough, that she almost protested, but Grace pulled her into her lap, kissing along her jaw as her hands dropped to stroke across Dani’s thighs.

Despite the passing years, Dani still didn’t have answers to questions of fate, and free choice, or destiny. But she did know that to give up, or put the individual over the species, would be a waste of all the sacrifice that had brought them to this precipice. So she put Mexico City, 2019, out of her mind, and she relaxed against Grace’s muscular chest, to live fully in the momentary peace, despite the stakes. Hay más tiempo que vida.

[astarlightmonbebe]

☪ ⋆ Table For Two ☪ ⋆

When your friends set you up on a blind date, you’re expecting to hate it, but Han Jisung takes you by surprise.

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Other members: Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix

A/n: this is just a thing that came to mind; hope you all find it cute!

“On a scale of one to ten, how opposed would you be to going on a blind date?” Felix asks, sticking his freckled face right up into yours.

“Firstly, get out of my face.” You say with a look of disgust, slamming your locker shut and throwing your equipment bag over your shoulder. “Secondly, I’m so opposed to that idea that a number one through ten wouldn’t be able to rate how much I’m opposed to it.”

Felix sticks out his tongue at you. “Too bad for you. It’s at seven o’clock tonight, at Scoops For Two, with one of Hyunjin’s elementary school friends. He says he’s super nice, super single, and super cute. Sounds perfect, right?”

“No.” You deadpan, starting to walk towards the double doors. Felix trails after you, chattering away about Hyunjin’s great friend. He’s apparently a musician and he has dyed hair and he talks a lot, so he could totally carry the conversation—you held up a hand right in front of Felix’s mouth, stopping him from saying more.

“Felix, I’m not going on a date with someone Hyunjin set me up with.” You say with an annoyed sigh. Felix’s mouth opens and closes in resemblance with a fish.

“But y/n…” He whines, flinging his arms around your neck and dragging his feet. You try to shove him off to no avail; Felix has all the cling-ability of an octopus, even without little suction cups to keep him in place.

“I’ll pay you.” Felix whispers in your ear. You stop and tilt your head back to look at him. You raise one eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. “I’m a little broke, but twenty bucks?”

“Yeah, right.” You say with a snort, turning back around.

“Thirty!” Felix bargains. “Come on, mate, I promised Hyunjin that you would definitely be coming.”

“Your mistake.” You reply lightly, pushing through the doors and out into the sunshine.

“Fifty.” Felix says with an air of resignation to him. You spin around, smiling.

“Deal.”

—

Scoops For Two is a popular ice cream shop on the edge of a giant strip mall that’s taken up half of your small town, a small cafe style restaurant best inhabited by high school kids much like yourself. At the moment it’s not occupied by that many people, the dinner rush past, especially for a Tuesday.

You enter it cautiously, tugging at the edges of the dress Hyunjin had stuffed you into. As soon as you had caved in for the blind date, Felix had called Hyunjin and the two of them had promptly taken over your bedroom and executed a mass cleaning as they looked through your closet for appropriate clothes, yelling at you when you tried to interfere, because you apparently ‘had less fashion sense than a human hippo would’—the compliment courtesy of Felix, but seconded by Hyunjin.

It’s not hard to find your blind date: there’s only one single guy sitting at a table for two among the couples scattered across the shop. He looks up at the sound of the bells jangling, eyes alighting on you and—oh, wow—he’s more than just super cute. He’s really cute. No, he’s so handsome it’s making your eyes hurt.

You look away, walking over to him and sitting down across from him. “I’m y/n.” You say, crossing your arms and trying to look as disinterested as possible. “Are you Hyunjin’s friend?”

His eyes fixate on you, a beautiful hazel shade that seem to be kaleidoscoping when you focus on them for too long. His hair is indeed dyed, a violet that is fading into his caramel roots, tousled and messy, falling in front of those eyes when he moves. He has that grunge style you’re kind of into, though you’d rather die than have people find out you have a type. Dressed in a pair of black jeans faded with time and torn with it too, red Doc Martens laced up over his feet, a matching red plaid shirt tied around his waist, his shirt an old Rolling Stones one. You’re not sure if he has the shirt just for the aesthetic or if he really likes them—you won’t judge either way.

Still, his casual style makes you feel extremely dressed up, all cutesy in your little knee length white sundress with the straps that keep sliding off your shoulders. At least you have your combat boots on, the metal buckles catching the light. He’s seen them too, and he’s smiling because of that.

“I like your shoes.” He says.

“Thanks.” You reply. “Name, please?” You’re chewing gum, mint, and you blow a bubble deliberately. He watches it pop, the gum disappearing back into your mouth.

“It’s Jisung. Han Jisung.” He tells you. You like his name, even though you won’t tell him that. It sounds nice. Jisung. Han Jisung. It goes together well too.

“Um, did you eat?” He asks. You nod.

“This is an ice cream shop, dude, not a dinner buffet.” You figure that if you’re as mean as possible, it’ll hurt his feelings and he’ll go away soon. Jisung nods.

“Of course.” He says, more to himself than to you. “So...do you want to go up and order something?” He’s clenching his fingers into fists underneath the table and you realize he’s nervous. Huh.

“Yeah, sure.” You say, rising effortlessly and tugging at the bottom of your dress. It’s a little too short for your comfort, but you managed to slip on spandex shorts underneath in case any mishaps happen.

Jisung follows you up, hanging back. You wonder if you’re intimidating him. Hyunjin had given you strict instructions to seem like the best possible version of yourself, and also to smile lots, because you apparently looked ‘scary’ when you weren’t.

The ice cream is arranged colorfully, labelled on the glass by someone with noticeably messy handwriting. Come to think of it, it’s been a while since you’ve actually had ice cream. Sports keep you busy, and you’re not one for social outings.

“One scoop of mint chocolate chip with hot fudge and whipped cream and a cherry.” Jisung orders beside you, smiling down at the ice cream. You look at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?” He asks, expression souring. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who hates mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

You laugh. “What? No. I just think it’s funny you know exactly what you’re going to order.” Turning to the other worker, you say; “I’d like a scoop of cookie dough with caramel sauce, sprinkles, whipped cream, and a cherry.”

Jisung laughs. “You say that, but you’re exactly the same way.”

“No, I’m simply fast at making decisions. Time doesn’t wait around.” You say back crossly, leaning against the glass and watching the worker drizzle caramel over your ice cream. Jisung leans across from you, smiling again. He never seems to stop smiling. Usually that bothers you, but you like his smile, so you decide to just let him.

“Uhuh.” He says, the grin broad on his face. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You scoff at him, then thank the workers as they hand you your ice cream. “I can pay.” Jisung says, reaching into his pocket.

“I’ll pay for myself, thanks very much.” You reply, lifting your chin. Jisung blinks, then slowly puts his wallet away and nods, motioning for you to go first.

As you’re paying, the worker asks you; “First date?” You stop, so that he has to tug the money out of your hand.

“No.” Jisung answers behind you. “Not yet.” You nod along, wondering why you were so caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t like it was anything deep.

The two of you take your ice cream back to that small round table for two, the chair hard against your back. It seems even more awkward than before, so you eat your ice cream in silence, poking your spoon in the whipped cream and watching how it gets stuck. You can feel Jisung looking at you every time you look down, but you don’t comment on it.

“So, Hyunjin says you play hockey.” Jisung finally starts, sitting back. You look back up at him.

“Yeah. Field and ice.” He nods appreciatively.

“That’s so cool. I’m not good at sports at all.” He chatters on. “I make music instead. Do you like music? Sorry, that’s a stupid question, everyone likes music. Well, not everyone. What artists do you like?”

You set your spoon down and sit back. “Hey, Han Jisung.” He blinks at you again, rapidly. “Do you talk a lot when you’re nervous.”

“Uh, no, I, maybe?” He stutters, and you find yourself smiling against your will.

“Forget it, it’s fine. I like producers like CB97 and r&b. I’ll listen to just about anything, though, because you have to have something to occupy your mind with when you work out. What about you?”

“Um, well, like you I’ll listen to anything. I like rap, but also ballads...yeah, I guess you could say my music taste is pretty varied.” He laughs a little, eyes scrunching up, and gosh, that’s kind of adorable, how they become crescents of happiness. You can feel the awkwardness melting away piece by piece, chipped away at with the start of this conversation.

“Hyunjin did mention you’re a musician. Are you like in a band?”

Jisung laughs, covering his mouth when he does. “Not exactly. Mostly I just mess around with like...Soundcloud...I swear I’m not cringey though! There’s just not really other platforms to post stuff on.”

You’re already pulling out your phone as he talks. “What’s your username?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “What? No! You’ll think it’s so bad.”

You hand the phone over to him and he tentatively accepts it. “Username, Han Jisung. Besides, Hyunjin will just tell me if you don’t.” Jisung sighs, accepting the truth of that statement, and passes the phone back to you.

“J.ONE?” You say aloud, tilting your head. He has a lot of music, you discover, as you scroll through it. Like, a lot. Too many to count. “It looks like you’ve been doing this for a while.” You observe.

Jisung gave you a dry look. “I went through a weird emo middle school phase, so please don’t listen to any of my old songs. I’ve been meaning to delete them, but a lot of people have listened to them...and also made fun of them, but that’s not important.”

You frown. “Okay, I promise I won’t listen to your emo phase music, but the rest of it is up for dibs, right?” You grin, and Jisung’s cheeks redden a fraction. He touches them with the backs of his head, looking even more embarassed.

“Whatever you want, y/n.” He finally responds with a sunny smile. “I expect adequate feedback though. I don’t usually give out my music to pretty girls on first meetings.”

“Well, I’m known to be an exception to that rule.” You proclaim airly.

“Wow, confident much?” He asks, but he’s holding back a laugh as he ducks his head.

“Actually, yes.” You answer as seriously as possible, teasing at this point just to see the expression on his face. “No one matches me when it comes to totally unneeded confidence, so don’t think you’ll be able to even come close.”

“I wasn’t even going to try.” Jisung replies, holding his hands up in an I surrender motion.

“Good.” You say, feeling yourself smiling hard, your cheek muscles aching. It’s been a while since you’ve found yourself smiling for so long. This scruffy looking cute boy has somehow managed to quite possibly win a little bit of your heart. Possibly. Only possibly, of course. It’s too scary to admit that completely to yourself.

“Are you finished?” Jisung asks suddenly, noticing your empty ice cream cup. “Because I have something I want to do. Only if you want to, though.”

You are indeed finished, but you look at him suspiciously all the same. “What sort of thing?”

He smiles cheekily at you. “Can it be a surprise? I pinky promise I’m not going to kidnap you.”

You aren’t concerned about that, which is a surprise given your usual skepticism when meeting new people, especially when you’re alone. “I’ll go along with it just this once.” You say as breezily as possible, feeling a faint pinkness rise in your cheeks. Since when did you blush over boys—albeit very cute ones with really nice smiles and Soundclouds?

He pushes open the door, opening up something on his phone, and turns back to you. “Ready?” He asks, hand outstretched towards you. You stare at it, thinking about what it would feel like to hold his hand, and by the time your mind has returned in order for you to think to grab it, its dropped by his side again.

“Wait.” You say, grabbing it. It’s warm and a rough all at once, old callouses healed over, but that doesn’t bother you. Your own hands hold the remnants of what it’s like to clutch a hockey stick year round. Jisung looks startled but in a pleasant way as he leads you down the road, eyes narrowed at his phone screen.

You walk around the corner and down the road before he stops in front of a bike, scanning a QR code to check it out. “Um…” He glances down at the bike, then back at the two of you. You smirk.

“Get on behind me, lover boy.” You state, swinging your leg over the bike. You’re glad you had the foresight to wear those spandex shorts now.

Jisung sputters at the name. “I swear I’m not a player!” He exclaims, sounding so sincere you can’t help but let out a loud laugh, doubling over the handles as your body shakes.

“Chill, dude, it’s just an expression.” You smile from underneath your veil of hair. “I know you’re not a player, Han Jisung, so don’t take offense.”

Jisung runs his fingers through his hair and has the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry.” He mumbles, and you motion for him to get on behind you. There’s an awkward moment when he has to squeeze himself to fit, knees almost up to his chest. His arms find their way to your waist, wrapping around it tightly, as if he considers you his only lifeline.

“Where are we off to, Han Jisung?” You ask over your shoulder.

“The boardwalk.” He answers, voice muffled by your shoulder, which he’s leaned his head against without asking, hair tickling the back of your neck. It’s almost...nice, how you can feel how he’s so relaxed against you, as if he trusts you. Who trusts strangers they’ve just met? Only Jisung, apparently.

“What’re we doing there?” You ask jokingly, and you can feel him lift his head to look at the back of his head.

“It’s a secret, of course. Now get pedalling.” You roll your eyes, feeling the burn in your muscles as you set off.

“By the way, you need to swear you won’t sue me if you fall off and get a concussion.” You throw over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jisung replies, sounding sleepy, even though your pedalling is rough and messy and there are lots of cracks in the sidewalk. “Besides, I thought you had more confidence than anyone else in this world. Aren’t you confident you can keep me safe?” His voice is soft around the edges, wrapping around you and curling through your veins, warm and tingly.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours either.” You respond gently, and he settles back against you as you spend the ride in silence.

The sun is dipping down into golden hour and you tilt your face up to it, enjoying the breeze against you, a relief from the hot summer days you’ve all been suffering from lately as school draws to a close. You like this feeling, you decide: a comforting weight at your back and the wind in your face and the sun making everything prettier, knowing you’re not really that alone.

The boardwalk is old and rickety but surrounded by sand and water, the fair still in session with its glittering lights and larger than life ferris wheel. You park right at the entrance, and Jisung untangles himself from you. It feels empty without him there, after a silent bike ride that lasted for at least a good twenty minutes.

“Golden hour looks good on you.” He acknowledges, and you toss your hair, even though you’re blushing from the compliment.

“Of course it does.” He shakes his head, but he likes your confidence and you both know it.

“What are we going to do here?” You ask, but Jisung just grabs your hand away and leads you in, showing off two tickets he must have stashed in one of those pockets that are scattered throughout his outfit.

“First, we get accessories.” He announces, leading you right to a small shop filled with souvenirs. “To get in a carnival mood.” He declares, and you laugh, looking it over. You pick out a headband with cat ears, sticking it on his head.

“If that’s the case, then I think this is the one for you.” You announce, examining him with a laugh. He does look cute in it, but he pouts at you anyways, finding one with devil horns and jamming it on your head.

“If that’s the case, then I think this one suits your personality.” He says, half laughing at you. You look in the mirror. He’s put it on lopsidedly, of course, so you adjust it with some self consciousness.

“What’s after this?” You ask, looking out across the fair. “Please tell me we’re riding the ferris wheel.” Jisung swallows and looks up at it. “Please?” You add, because if you’re here, then you’re going to have your way for at least one ride.

“I wasn’t planning on rides, but for you, I’d do anything.” He pulls a finger heart out of his jacket and you swat his hand away playfully, even though your heart feels like it’s pumping an electric beat inside of your chest, threatening to break free of your rib cage and jump right into Han Jisung’s hands.

The line for the ferris wheel is short, and soon you find yourself crammed side by side with Jisung on it, only a bar in front of you preventing you from falling. Jisung turns his head to watch the ground disappear, then settles back against the seat. His hands are in his lap, too tightly entwined for you to dare reaching over to grab one of them.

“Truthfully, I’m only on this blind date because Felix said he would pay me fifty dollars.” You tell him suddenly, and it’s so sudden that Jisung starts laughing, leaning out over the bar with his eyes bright.

“So I’m only worth fifty dollars to you?” He asks, poking you in the shoulder. You brush his hand away, nose scrunching up.

“That’s not what I said! You didn’t let me finish.” You pout, and he mouths a silent apology and waves for you to continue on. “I’ve actually had a lot of fun, though, especially considering it’s the first blind date I’ve been on. It’s been nice getting to know you, Jisung.”

Jisung smiles softly at that. “Thanks, y/n.” The ferris wheel creaks upward, then jolts to a sudden halt at the top, sending you both forward. The bar bites into your stomach, and you groan.

“Oh, come on. Isn’t it a little cliche to trap couples at the top?!” You yell down to the worker, who doesn’t seem to hear you as they fiddle with the buttons. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Wow...we’re really high up.” Jisung notes, his voice coming out shaky. You look over at him and see that your date for the night is looking unusually out of sorts.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in concern.

“Since we’re admitting things tonight, it might be a good time to say that I have a very big fear of heights.” Jisung says flatly, craning his neck to look at the frothing ocean only a drop away. “I don’t suppose you have any good distractions for that, do you? Because I can tell you right now just talking to me will not help in the slightest.”

An idea is formulating in your brain, and you smile. “I do, actually. Look me in the eyes.” He does, turning his head, his eyes colorful orbs with the reflection of the ferris wheel lights in them, hair blowing in the wind.

“What are you doing?” He whispers as you stare up at him, concentrating. You hold up one finger to your lips, making him go quiet. He stares down at you and you gaze up at him, everything going quiet except for your breathing.

Slowly, carefully, you reach up. His eyes track your hand as it traces over his shoulder and around to rest against his neck, pulling him down closer. You can tell he has more to ask, but you suck in a breath and pull his face down towards yours, lips connecting.

It’s brief, two pairs of lips brushing against each other, but it makes you feel things you’ve never felt. Han Jisung’s lips are soft and warm, and his mouth parts against yours in a silent exclamation as you deepen the kiss, hand furled into the collar of his shirt.

The ferris wheel jolts back to life, startling the two of you apart. Jisung is staring at you, chest rising and falling, and you smile at him, feeling shy.

“Did that distract you enough?” You ask innocently, and Jisung blinks several times in rapid succession, then nods slowly. He’s tilting his head, looking at you in a different light, and you wait patiently.

“No wonder you have so much confidence.” He finally murmurs. “You’re freaking beautiful.”

And when Han Jisung kisses you for a second time, you think he’s worth more than money could offer. Up among these clouds, surrounded by light, the water washing up against the shore steadily, you think that he’s quite possibly the best person you’ve ever met.

End.

[amuseoffyre]

Crossing Paths - 370AD – Thagaste

Notes: Yesterday I posted a St. Augustine-based chapter, but then I had a read through the confessions of the man himself and realised that I had fluffed significant things such as his age (16, not 14), the town he was in (Thagaste not Madaurus) and the time the incident happened (night, not midday). So I deleted it and now, I have written the more historically-accurate version :)

370AD – Thagaste

The crescent moon was high in the star-smeared sky and the streets were deserted.

The silence was broken by a crash of pottery, echoed by raucous laughter.

“Out!”

A door opened onto the street, a slice of lamplight pouring out onto the pale flagstones. Four young men piled out through the doorway, a tangle of brown, olive and pale limbs, all of them flushed with drink and mirth.

“You lose valuable customers, Gaius!” One of the young men bellowed, swaying where he stood. He considered the clay cup in his hand, then hurled it to explode on the doorframe, dregs of wine dripping down the pale stone. His friends burst into fits of laughter.

The innkeeper appeared in the doorway, face black as thunder. “You son of a sow!”

The young man clasped his hand proudly to his chest. “And the finest sow in all Thagaste she is too! Unlike yours!”

When the innkeeper stormed towards them, cudgel in his hand, the young man’s friends tugged him, still jeering, and they reeled off down the street.

From the shadow of an insula doorway, Crowley watched them, grinning. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his work, but it didn’t hurt when it took no effort at all and young Augustinus of house Aurelius was about to give him the easiest night of work imaginable.

He slipped out onto the silver-painted flagstones, winding his way after them as the four boys tottered onwards, singing filthy songs about some random woman’s breasts.

“What now?” The red-haired lad in the group demanded, leaning heavily into Augustinus’s side.

Augustinus threw his arms wide, his friend staggering. “More wine!”

“No more taverns,” the olive-skinned boy complained.

Augustinus’s dark face creased in annoyance. “Futuo!” He swung around. “My house has wine. We can get wine there.”

Crowley meandered after them. “Why limit it to your house?” he asked the young man as they wandered out of the town and towards the house of the Aurelius family. He felt the prickle of speculation in the lad, barely more than a boy. “It’s not like anyone could stop you, is it?”

“We could have grapes,” the fourth of their group said. He was a round-face boy, pink-cheeked. “Can we have grapes?”

The vineyards spread across the fields flanking the road, leaves and fruit shining in the moonlight. Augustinus considered them. “They’re not ripe yet.” He waved grandly. “But one day, we will make the best wine with them.”

“Fah.” The red-head snorted. “Not wine yet.”

Crowley glanced around, then chuckled to himself. Sometimes, the classic temptations were the best. “What about that?” He nudged Augustinus’s attention to the wall on the other side of the road. A tree was visible over the lip of the wall. “Looks ripe to me.”

The young man turned, looking up.

The leaves rustled in the warm evening breeze, whispering around the plump swells of fruit that hung heavily on the branches. It wasn’t quite the lush red of the apples of Eden, but you worked with whatever material you had and right now, Crowley had pears.

“Bet they’d hate if you took them.” He coiled around the boy, his voice low and enticing. “Can you imagine the look on his face? And if you’re sneaky, he’ll never know it was you.”

Augustinus’s dark eyes glittered. “We could have pears, Marcus.”

The round-faced boy squinted at him. “From a vineyard?”

Augustinus answered by veering over towards the wall. “Pears,” he replied, waving upwards.

The trio exchanged hazy, drink-addled looks. “But… but that’s not your house,” Rufus said, swaying gently.

“So?” Crowley prompted with a serpent smile. “Pompous old man. Why should he tell you what to do?” He leaned a hair’s breadth closer. “Wouldn’t it be fun?”

“It’s probably bad,” Marcus added, though he was staring wistfully up at the pears.

“So? I think we should have pears!” Augustinus laughed, groping for the cracks between the rocks of the wall, hauling himself unsteadily upwards. His sandaled feet skittered on the stone and two of his friends hurried forward, boosting him up, encouraged by his boldness.

It wasn’t the highest wall in the world, but for a sixteen year old several jugs into his cups, it probably felt like scaling Everest. Crowley watched as he finally flopped, hanging like a folded cloth, over the top of the wall, his legs dangling down.

“Can you get them?” Rufus demanded in what he must have assumed was a whisper.

“Ngh.” Augustinus’s legs kicked feebly and there was the wet sound of someone being sick on the far side of the wall.

“Eugh! Augustinus!”

“Missed the pears!” The boy’s voice floated back, sounding considerably damper. It took him a few more minutes and some kicking and flailing to haul himself up onto the wall. He swung one leg over and sat, swaying in the moonlight.

“Where are the pears?” Marcus demanded petulantly. “I want one!”

Augustinus peered down at his friend, then reached out and grabbed a pear, tugging it off the branch. He considered it solemnly, then twisted on the wall and lobbed it straight at Marcus’s head, with surprisingly good aim for someone who was almost cross-eyed with drink.

“Ow!”

“You wanted it!” Augustinus crowed. He leaned down, offering his hand to Rufus. “Come on. There are too many for me to get on my own.”

His friend reached up and grabbed his wrist, scrambling up the wall to join him. “How many are we taking?”

Augustinus grinned, a flash of brilliant white in his dark face. “All of them.”

Crowley chuckled, leaning back to watch as one little temptation blossomed, turning four rude young men into thieves and vandals.

 __________________________________

 It was a lovely night, but one wouldn’t have thought so by the state of the poor woman, kneeling before the makeshift altar.

The beads of her rosary rattled through her fingers, her eyes closed, tears spilling down her cheeks as she recited her prayers, the beacon of her faith glowing fiercely. She was well-reputed already for her piety, but Heaven had far greater things in mind for her.

Aziraphale approached, reaching out to lay his hand lightly upon her head.

The blessing cast a divine glow around her and her prayers stuttered, almost as if she felt it. Her tears dried and a rapturous smile spread across her handsome dark-skinned face. Her name would be remembered, her piety and faith rewarded.

One day, eventually, she would be a Saint.

Aziraphale smiled, watching her, the bliss of the blessing washing away a little of her fear and grief. The seeds were there already. He had just offered them a little light to help them grow.

Silently, he withdrew from the house, slipping unseen by the other humans. Most of them were asleep, but there was a guard sitting at the door, a lamp beside him and a surly look on his face. Not keeping dangers out, Aziraphale realised, but waiting for someone.

Technically, he could have carried himself back to the centre of the town on a whim, but it really was a very lovely night. The stars speckled the sky, barely a cloud in sight to obscure them, and the air was warm and clear.

“No harm in walking a little,” he murmured, as he slipped through the gate and set off down the shining silver road that led back into Thagaste.

Around him, the landscape rolled in gentle slopes, the hillsides woven with vines. It was a shame it was too early in the season. The budding clusters of grapes were only small, but there was promise of a generous harvest. He scanned the broad expanse of the fields. A few weeks more, and if he happened to pass by in time to try them while bringing another blessing or–

Or Crowley?

Just a little way to the side of reality, the demon was sitting on a rock beside the road, sprawled back and gazing up at the sky.

“Coo-ee! Crowley!”

Crowley whipped around, momentary panic written on his face. He spotted Aziraphale and huffed with relief, a grin curling his lips. “Angel!” He sat up a little straighter on the rock. “What brings you all the way out here?”

Aziraphale waved a hand in the direction of the Aurelius house. “Just a blessing. You?”

“Not much.” Crowley shrugged expressively, rucking up his toga – it was awfully like the one he wore in Rome, which seemed very inconvenient so far out in the empire. Aziraphale had elected a simpler tunic, though he added a rather nice cape. It was very stylish, he thought.

“What do you mean not much?” he inquired.

The demon waved a hand dismissively. “You know. Temptation here, temptation there.” He flashed his widest grin. “Maybe I was just following you around to see what damage I could do when you were finished?”

Aziraphale gave him a mostly patient look. “Oh, really. You’re doing no such thing. I saw you stargazing.”

Crowley made a face at him. “S’not a crime.”

“Well, no.” The angel fiddled with his fingers. “Are you heading back into the–”

A stifled but very human grunt made him turn, puzzled.

As far as he could see, there was no one but him and Crowley.

“What do you suppose…” He looked back at the demon, who was staring up at the high wall behind him. Aziraphale followed his line of sight and spotted a pair of bony brown hands appear over the top of a wall on the opposite side of the road. The hands were followed by a black-haired, dark-eyed face and Aziraphale stared in dismay. Oh he knew that little one. Just as he’d visited Monica before, he had seen the boy too. “Oh, Crowley, you didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Crowley said, looking wounded. “Just because some daft human is climbing walls in the middle of the night doesn’t mean it’s anything to do with me.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to comment, but above them, the head and shoulders tipped over the top of the wall, then the young man gave an alarmed yelp as the brick he was leaning on gave way and he dropped – headfirst – towards the rocky ground.

Aziraphale’s hand moved before he could think, cushioning the impact and saving the boy from a nasty head injury. “Oh my dear!” He brushed by Crowley, bustling towards the boy. “Are you all right? That was quite a tumble.”

The young man rubbed his bruised head and squinted up at him. “OH HELLO GOOD MAN! IT IS VERY LATE FOR YOU TO BE ABOUT! I DID NOT EXPECT TO SEE YOU.”

Aziraphale blinked. Perhaps he hadn’t been fast enough. “There’s no need to shout, dear boy,” he said, gently helping the young man to his feet. He glanced anxiously at Crowley, who was muffling laughter in his hand. “It’s not funny, Crowley! He might have hurt himself!”

“He’s a teenager, angel,” Crowley choked out. “S’what they do. Bloody stupid, reckless things. Might have knocked some sense into him.”

The angel glowered at him. “You are such a terrible person.”

Young Augustinus swayed against his hands and Aziraphale recognised the scent of more than one kind of wine. No wonder his blessed mother was praying again, if he had been out and misbehaving. Honestly, sometimes it made you wonder if all the work was going to be worth it in the long run. Free will made no guarantees, even for one elected for divine influence. “Ah. A little too much to drink?”

Augustinus gave him the look of a young man very resolutely sure that he did not seem drunk. “I am quite well, thank you very much, good sir.” He bobbed his head. “Thank you for your concern. It is very… er… good.” He groped about in a pouch on his belt. “Let me give you a gift of thanks.”

“Oh, really, that’s not necess–”

Augustinus shoved a plump, ripe, golden-green pear in front of his nose. “A pear!” he declared, then beamed. “For you, my helpful friend.”

“How generous,” Crowley gasped out. He seemed to find the drunk boy unreasonably entertaining, even though the boy didn’t even seem to notice him.

It was quite a lovely pear as well, freshly picked from the look of it. “I oughtn’t.”

“You ought,” Augustinus insisted, pushing it into his hands. “For your journey home.” He flashed that luminous smile again. “And I will definitely be going home too and not falling off walls or taking anymore pears or anything.”

Aziraphale looked down at the pear in his hands, then back at the boy. “Well, if you’re sure. I do like pears.”

Augustinus nodded, then glanced up and flapped a hand urgently.

“What is–?” Aziraphale started to raise his head.

“Probably nothing,” Crowley wheezed, bracing a hand against the wall.

“Moth! Big one!” Augustinus insisted. “That’s all. Not anything.” He caught Aziraphale by the arm, steering him towards the road. “It’s very late, good sir. Have a safe journey.”  

“I think that’s a hint,” Crowley said, finally gathering himself enough to wander after them, though his mouth was still twitching. “Want some company back to the town?”

Aziraphale eyed the young man, who stared back at him earnestly, his hands clasped in front of him, the picture of drunken virtue. “Do you think he’ll be able to get home safely?” he asked the demon, beyond the human’s hearing.

“Yeah,” Crowley knocked the boy on the shoulder as he passed. “Hasn’t got far to go, has he? I don’t think he’ll be climbing any more walls, do you?”

“I suppose not,” Aziraphale agreed. He gave the boy a smile. “Thank you for the pear, young man. It was very kind of you.”

Augustinus raised a hand in something halfway between a wave and a salute. “S’all good, sir. Very good.” He beamed, showing all his teeth. “Have a good night, sir.”

Crowley chuckled. “Come on, angel,” he said. “Let’s leave his lordship to stagger home.” He set off down the road and Aziraphale gave the boy one last careful look before turning and trotting after him, his pear held snugly in his hand.

“He seemed a very polite young man, didn’t he? I mean, aside from the inebriation.”

“Mm.” Crowley’s lips were twitching again. “He had his moments.”

“And we can hardly be the ones to criticise him, I suppose,” Aziraphale added.

After all, they certainly indulged themselves often enough. Speaking of which…

“You don’t happen to have a knife, do you, Crowley?”

The demon gave him a wary look. “Why?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I thought we could share the young man’s gift. If you would like?”

The expression on the demon’s face softened. “It’s not a very big pear, angel.”

“Well,” Aziraphale said firmly, “I didn’t even have a small pear until now, so even half of this is more than I had before, which means it’s only fair that we both get a share.”

The demon laughed. “You are such an angel sometimes,” he said, but he still produced a knife from somewhere on his person. “Go on then.”

And as they walked back to Thagaste in the moonlight, they shared the fruit between them.

[yukiwrites]

Always Together, no Matter How Many Years Pass

Thank you for the support as always, @breeachuu! With this we end Nidra’s story, but someone else’s beginning...

Summary: Nidra and Henry slowly get used to raising their third child, Wolfram, realizing that the boy has fundamental differences from his siblings, Meliodas and Cynthia. Wolfie, as he’s called among his family, grows up in a loving and caring enviroment, never knowing the pain of loneliness.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

_______________________________

Even though it wasn't Nidra and Henry's first time being parents of small children, they felt a spark of excitement as they raised Wolfram. It wasn't their first time being parents, but it WAS their first time being parents of a child they knew nothing about.

In a sense, it was as though they had been spoiled by their own children's time-travelling adventures. They already knew what Meliodas and Cynthia liked to eat and what to do to make their younger counterparts stop crying -- leg bounces for Cyn and upsies for Meli -- but with Wolfram everything was a new experience; a new surprise.

Especially considering how physically different he turned out to be in comparison to his siblings: As a baby, he was not only smaller, but had been birthied after a human's normal term; also his ears weren't nearly as long and pointy as the others'. If Nidra were to make comparisons, Wolfram's ears resembled more of that foreign dragon shape-shifter named Kamui she had met once upon a time.

Worried as always, it took Nidra a few months to shake off the feeling that something might have been wrong with her youngest son. What if he had lacked nutrients while she was pregnant? What did she do differently during her pregnancy with him that she didn't do with the other two? Even though he showed absolutely no signs of being sickly or unhealthy at the slightest, Nidra still worried that she somehow had messed up on their first 'surprise' baby.

But all those worries were put to rest when it was time to give Wolfram his Naga's Bell bath.

This time, the entire family was present -- under the summer's night sky, the bright full moon shone down on the draconic family, illuminating the water in a silvery purple.

Meliodas held Cyn in his arms, gasping softly at how pretty his younger brother's scales would be once he started transforming. The little girl watched in awe with how the water glittered, pointing and gasping, making sure to not make any noise.

Cynthia held Meli over her lap as they sat on the grass beside their father, her eyes blurred with tears. She had watched her younger counterpart's bath back in the day as well, but she couldn't help but feel emotional any time it happened -- in her own, cursed time, Nidra didn't live long enough to give Cynthia her bath. Being there, witnessing not only her own but her little brother's bath made her choke a few sobs and squeeze Meli in her hug, turning the poor boy purple from lack of air.

Different from his siblings during their own baths, Wolfram stayed awake the whole time, his thin yet expressive eyes reflecting his entire family all around him, making him feel even safer inside the lukewarm water.

As per usual, Nidra sobbed as she and Henry bathed the young manakete, overjoyed to see that Naga's blessing still shone upon her child, despite all of her worries. Chuckling, Henry patted his wife's head as she rested it on his shoulder while she gave her prayer to Naga. He booped Wolfram's nose, a fatherly smile stuck on his face.

After a few moments, Henry took Nidra's hand as an indication to start packing up to head back inside. "Alrighty, let's go back!" He said chipperly, making his wife snort.

Still sobbing, Cynthia held onto her father's cloak. "C-can we all sleeb dobether donight?" She sniffled, her nose clogged.

"Oh, my darling girl," Nidra rushed to her daughter's side with a handkerchief, drying her tears. "Blow here."

Cynthia blew her nose as Meli patted his sister's shoulder, "don't cry, Big Sis..."

"Hehe, I-I'm fine, Meli- oof!" she stuttered before being tackled by Cyn, who quickly got misty eyed out of sympathy. "I just- I wanna... can we sleep on our nest tonight? Everyone together?"

The nest she referred to was a large, round spot inside their house, at the living room upstairs, that was full of mantles, blankets and pillows that Nidra had made a few years ago for the whole family to snuggle in. It was mostly used during winter since they couldn't come out to take a nap under their favored tree, so they all did it inside.

It was their most precious spot in the entire house. A place whence they could be entangled with their family, uncaring of anything that happened in the outside world. A protective, warm and safe space for their family only.

Nidra rested her forehead on her daughter's as Henry took Wolfram out of the water, wrapping him around the towel he had over his shoulder. "Oh, my darling," the mother kissed her little girl. "Of course we can."

"Wolfie's gonna stay in his crib just a bit out of reach, though," Henry bounced the baby up and down, "he's too small for this just yet. Don't wanna get him squished, nyahah!"

Cynthia and Nidra both sniffled. "Of c-course, Father." The young woman replied, grasping her Mother's hand. "T-thank you."

"Hush, there is no need for that." Nidra replied, lovingly.

Meliodas helped Henry clean up as Nidra and Cynthia carried the children inside, their tears mirrored on one another's. They shuffled upwards to their nest whence a small bouncing crib already awaited Wolfram, who only started to get sleepy after Henry carefully patted his back on their way up.

There was no set way for them to line themselves around the large nest -- usually Henry and Nidra stayed in the middle to hug their children, but that was no rule. That night, Nidra hugged Cynthia at the center, with a small Cyn squeezing her way between them, Meli latching onto his sister from behind. Laughing, Meliodas stayed behind Nidra as Henry lay beside his son, one hand peeking out of the nest to rock Wolfram's crib.

They prized their time together as a family more than anything.

Cynthia had wonderful, warm dreams that night, as she always did whenever they all shared their nest; as though their minds all joined together as one to propagate their love for each other.

As Wolfram – ‘Wolfie’ for the largest part of the family; ‘Ramy’ for both Cynthias -- grew, the more the family learned about their own bloodline.

After consulting with Naga through their mind links, Nidra finally realized that the reason for Wolfie to look so physically different from the rest of them was because he most likely had a much more diluted manakete blood than the others. He was more parts human than he was dragon, so to say.

The phenomenon that made that knowledge click inside Nidra was the time she first let him touch her dragonstone, once he was a bit older than five or so. Barely did he touch the thing, silver and purple scales took over his limbs, as large, transparent wings grew out of his back alongside tall horns from his forehead.

A partial transformation!

Quickly did Nidra take the stone away from the boy, scared that the full power of its large core could make his dragon half overpower the human one. Confused but most certainly excited, Wolfie grinned. "Do it again, Mommy! The wings! So big!"

Nervous, but not about to let that transpire to her son, Nidra patted him on the head. "Not right now, hm, Wolfie? Mother promises you will have your own dragonstone someday soon."

"Awwww, not even one more time?" He pouted, looking at her from below. Doing that assured him a 93% chance of getting whatever he wanted from his Biggest Sister Cynthia and a 68% chance from his Biggest Brother Meliodas, but it was anyone's guess whenever it would work on his Mother or Father.

Knowing her son all too well, Nidra patted his head with more strength, making him look down. "Soon, I said." She squinted, though her smile betrayed her attempt at a serious expression.

"Heehee, okay! I'll go tell Cyn and Meli what happened!" He giggled, diving into a hug before running towards the forest. Nidra took it upon herself to search for a dragonstone with a core smaller than usual -- if Wolfram's dragon half was smaller than his human counterpart, he needn't carry a stone with a large core.

A few weeks after that event, the stone Nidra had asked Nah to bring from Mila's tree had arrived. The time-travelling manakete had been going back and forth from the Temple atop the tree to Ylisse so as to train under The Voice of Naga for her own never-ending future. She always made sure to return after a few years or so to check on how everyone was doing; to commit to her memory so she could pass it all down one day. It was during one of these trips that she brought the stone Nidra had prayed to Naga for.

It was unprecedented, you see, for mixed-blood manaketes to exist. Meliodas, Cynthia and Nah had been the first ones in all of their people's existence, so it was natural that someone with even thinner manakete blood would be born one day. Modern solutions for modern problems, as Naga had told Nah one day, making the young woman groan and laugh.

Regardless of how the stone was obtained, Wolfram received it with joy and excitement.

"You must promise not to overuse it, however. I will not hesitate to take it from you should I notice you've been transforming too much." Nidra warned, pointing right in the middle of his nose, before handing it to him.

"Okay, okay!" He giggled. He grew more and more into Henry every day, though the way he expressed his emotions was fundamentally different than his father's. Even though people always saw Henry smiling, it never felt truly real -- at least not before he had married Nidra.

But Wolfram? His smile glowed like the sunshine, charming all of those around him, his parents most of all, of course.

"Trans-form!" The young boy struck a pose as he concentrated his consciousness unto the small stone, his entire body growing hotter by the second.

As before, wings grew from his back as did the horns over his forehead. His limbs shone with his scales as a small tail protruded itself from his spine.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Cynthia yelled from behind, coming back from work at the exact moment her brother transformed. "What IS THIS? THIS IS SO COOL!! He has WINGS! A TAIL! NOT QUITE A DRAGON BUT RETAINING HIS HUMAN FORM!!"

"Isn't it, Big Sis?!" He struck the pose she taught him just the previous week, making her hop on her spot and imitate it.

Putting one hand over her chest, Nidra almost fell over from surprise -- she had sensed her daughter coming back, yes, but that shout was enough to surprise even the dead out of their tombs.

"We're. Gonna. Be. THE. BEST. TEAM. EVER!!" She picked her little brother up, throwing him into the air. "You're gonna be so cool with your wings like that over your mount! You'll be able to SWOOSH, jump out midair while you attack and still FLY AT THE SAME TIME AS YOUR MOUNT- this is SO COOL, I wanna do this too!!"

Hearing the commotion outside, Henry peeked his head from a window. "And here I thought to keep the kids busy while you showed Wolfie the ropes." He laughed at the scene as Meli and Cyn got on their toes to watch.

Cyn shouted much like her older sister, pointing and hopping on her spot before grabbing her dragonstone and quite literally flying out of the window. "RAMY!!" She tackled both Cynthia and Wolfram into the ground in her young dragon form. "So cool!"

Meli took his index to his lips for a split of second, envying his siblings before he, too, took his stone and flew out of the window, joining them as they started running around in circles. "I'm gonna be the one to teach him how to fly!!"

"Noooo, it's gotta be me!" Cynthia lifted her stone overhead, ready to transform herself.

"Cynthia, wait-" Nidra tried to stop a full dragon to stomp around their backyard, but it was too late -- Cynthia's wingspan brushed over the roof, breaking a few spots before she picked Wolfie up and jumped towards the hill. The calamity the wind from her beating her wings left made Nidra dig her head into her hands, though she laughed it off right after.

Infected by his Nidra's laughter, Meliodas and Henry both left the house to help her up on her feet. "I'm the one who's the flying teacher here, though!" The oldest son pouted. "Will you be alright on your own, Mother? I fear that if I do not step in soon, Cynthia will snatch my position!" He hesitated, wanting to go but not wanting to leave all tidying up to his parents.

"Please take care not to hurt Wolfie -- his wings are large but they're surely too weak to support his weight for now." Nidra said in a serious tone, though the smile remained over her lips.

"Will do!" Meliodas winked before jumping into his transformation, flying towards the hill to join his siblings.

Henry caressed his wife's back, pulling her to his chest as they observed the heart-warming (though terrifying for anyone other than themselves) scene of four dragons playing-fighting over who would be the teacher.

"We really hit the jackpot with 'em, huh?" He gurgled a laugh, slowly wrapping both arms around his wife.

Nidra closed her eyes to enjoy her husband's warmth. "Indeed. The same can be said for me -- towards you, my love."

"Aww, now you're embarrassing me!" He laughed, slightly lifting his wife from the ground and spinning her.

The years passed them by slowly -- or rather, the family walked through the years as the children grew up. Soon it was already the second decade anniversary of Nidra's and Henry's marriage, a few months before Wolfie turned ten years old.

Wanting to share that moment with her beloved friend Robin, Nidra and her draconic family once again made use of their reserved rooms in the castle. It was a most auspicious time, as well -- Luci had just turned of age and started assuming more and more responsibilities within the Halidom.

"Children grow up so fast," Nidra mused under her teacup as she and Robin sat by their favored balcony, watching over the little ones from above. If she closed her eyes and focused, she'd be able to hear what every single one of them was doing -- Cynthia gave Cyn and Wolfie a tour around the stables to help them choose their mounts as both Melis, Morgans and Lucinas conversed at a round table under the gazebo.

Queen Robin leaned on the backrest, smiling peacefully. "Indeed they do. And now they're taking my work away from me, can you believe it? I'm a Queen who has too much time on her hands."

"You taught them well, my dear friend." Nidra giggled, reaching for her friend's hand. "They are ready to brave the world, and they've got you and Chrom to thank."

"Don't give yourself so little credit, Nidra. You did no shortage of help, as well. Thank you for being such a constant in their lives ever since they were too young to understand."

Nidra shook her head. "It was my pleasure, Robin. And I would do it a thousand times over; as I will."

Robin's smile grew as she held her friend's hand. "As you will."

They extended their stay at the castle for an entire week before agreeing to leave the day before a storm was predicted to pass over Ylisse. Missing their time together as a family, the seven of them didn't even need words to say that they would all spend the next few days sleeping in their nest, the confusion of limbs turning funnier with the passing of the years.

During the storm, Wolfie announced that he was going to bond himself with a wyvern instead of with a pegasus -- to everyone's but Cynthia's surprise. She had seen how his eyes gleamed once he saw the baby wyverns being taken care of at the royal stables and loudly expressed her joy.

"I made not only one but two siblings into riders, hah!!! Our bonds with our partners will never fade!" She pointed to her older brother as though they were betting on how many siblings they could turn to 'their side'.

Wolfram got up to mimic his sister's pose. "I'm gonna be really good at wielding lances and throwing magic around! Pew, pew!" He made a swooshing movement with his hands, making Henry throw his back in laughter.

"Finally a magic-oriented kid! I think I made this one alone, Ni-Ni!" He grabbed the young boy , disheveling his hair.

Nidra placed one hand over her cheek. "With each passing day I think the same, my dear husband."

Laughing and kicking due to his father's tickling, Wolfie grabbed whoever's clothes he could find to save him, but that only made Meli and Cyn join in, drowning the boy in tickles.

He was so happy being surrounded by his family, he failed to notice how ominous the crackling of thunder sounded from outside, foreboding something regarding his future.

Yet, the storm passed along with the years, the strange feeling never again scratching the back of his conscience -- until one day before his 15th birthday.

The pot he was using to grind a few herbs broke cleanly in two, making him tilt his head to the side. A second after, before he could even shrug to think about getting a new pot, he felt the warm string from his bond with Naga caress his cheek.

Speaking with Naga was commonplace within his family -- but somehow he had always heard her voice as though through a thick glass. Maybe it was because of his thin blood, so he never really pressed into the matter.

But it wasn't because of that.

It simply meant that it wasn't the time for him to hear her voice.

Now, however, he heard her clearly. He felt the grasp of her holy hand within his fingers, guiding him towards the hill, to look up to the sky in the direction of the Mila Tree.

All manaketes at the house felt the magnanimous presence in their house, quickly running back in to find their youngest wrapped in light. "Mother..." He said as though in a trance. "I think I heard my destiny's call."

[underdilemma]

TudeTale

I’ve had a variant of SwapTale bouncing around my head for a while, so I figure I’d finally share it. I’m calling my interpretation TudeTale, since it refers to attitudes and applies to every character. Like SwapTale, personalities are switched, but their roles and stats haven’t. I recognize that other people may have similar ideas, but this is my official and complete interpretation. I plan on writing ficlets for this - maybe a whole out story - but there are future projects of TudeTale in the works

Sans - In this AU, he wears a turtle neck, rolled up khakis, bunny slippers, a lab coat that’s seen better days, and sometimes glasses (when he needs to do extra hard thinking). He has an incredibly excitable personality. He used his passion to get multiple online degrees and is the official scientist and engineer of Snowdin. He’s a jack of all trades - he invents, he studies souls, he’s presently working on an inter-dimensional transporter, he helps his brother with his puzzles, he’s working on a hotdog recipe so he works stands throughout the underground, and he’s the official judge of the Underground. Asgore assigned this little-skeleton-that-could the role of judge because, well, he’s an excellent judge of character. He’s never actually had to judge any humans or monsters (thankfully) but he keeps himself in shape just in case. He trains with his brother and often beats him when they spar - though his endurance never seems to improve. He can summon blasters, but can’t keep them up for long. He can also teleport, but is very limited. He loves making friends and going to Grillby’s after a long day. He was very sick when he was younger due to his HP and dedicates a good portion of his research coming up with magic enhancing technology. If he ever meets a human, he’ll gladly accept their help in his studies and will only result to fighting them if they kill Papyrus. His HP is still low as he staunchly refuses to gain LV, so he is prone to illness. He takes frequent naps to keep his energy up. He has a good relationship with his brother and has Undernet chats with Explizard92. He goes by WithoutHumerus. 

Papyrus - He has two main outfits. He either wears the jeans he’s owned for fifteen years and a sweater Sans made him with sneakers, or his official royal guard uniform (spiky shoulders and all), though he rarely wears the helmet (and almost never knows where it is). He didn’t get much attention growing up because everyone was more concerned with his brother, but so was he. He went to bed worried he’d wake up next to a pile of dust. He’s still a little traumatized and doesn’t like sleeping because of that. Whenever he does sleep, it’s due to complete exhaustion. He ended up joining the royal guard so he’d have a steady source of income. It felt like the natural thing to do, but he doesn’t have much passion for it. He really does enjoy making puzzles though and he cooks for Sans everyday, hoping to give him something slightly more nutritious that his greasy comfort food. Nutrition is also why he helps Sans with his hotdog recipe - as a co-creator and focus group. He sometimes feels lonely, and is sometimes mad at his brother for their circumstances, but loves him with all his heart. That’s why he always let’s Sans win when they spar - the look of joy and exuberance is always worth it. His stats are very good and he has the ability to summon blasters, but he doesn’t like the memories they bring up. He can’t teleport, but he casually defies the laws of physics and gravity without breaking a sweat. His job requires him to capture a human if need be, but he has too big a heart to actually take them out. Thankfully his captain doesn’t really mind. He rarely goes onto the Undernet, unless he’s having a really bad night, and goes buy Skeledone420. He has a minor obsession with MTT and watches clips of it whenever he can.

Alphys - She does have a stutter, but it only comes out when she’s uncomfortable - which she rarely is. She wears goggles on her head and a singed lab coat. Her scales are often ashen with smoke or gunpowder, but she doesn’t really notice. She’s too occupied with her work as the official Royal Scientist. She ascended to the position when her superior mysteriously blew up. She swears she didn’t do it, because she totally didn’t, but few believe her. Asgore promoted her in hopes her explosions would actually kill a human. She watches Mew Mew Kissy Cutie mostly for the action scenes and, when she’s off the clock, works on making weapon replicas. She works in pyrotechnics and has traps set out throughout the underground - along with cameras to record any explosions. She knows about the True Lab and goes down there to take care of the Amalgamates, but she doesn’t know much about their creation and doesn’t see much use in them. Her username on Undernet is Explizard92 and often chats with WithoutHumerus and FishUponAStar. Late at night, when she can’t sleep, she tinkers with her explosives, she’ll sometimes chat with Skeledone420. She has no idea who he is but really wants to meet him IRL. Although, her true bae is Undyne. She loves how strong she is and how she can talk about anything, and wants to date her but doesn’t want to risk their friendship. 

Undyne - Captain of the royal guard that is rarely caught out of her armor. She wears fluffy pajamas to sleep, but since an accident when she was younger, she  wears her armor any time she’s out of the house. She wears an eye patch because she lost an eye in a sparing match where she wasn’t wearing her helmet (her mother warned her a million times). Her mom was the previous Captain and Undyne easily slipped into the decision, despite not being very assertive. She leads the guard with a quiet courage however, and is deceptively strong, although she’s a bit clumsy. She loves sparring with Papyrus and never regrets letting him into the guard despite the protests of other members. She thinks highly of him and his brother, and envies their familial relationship. She is a composer and writes pieces on the piano and takes pride in her cooking. These are the only two fields in which she wields any confidence. She wants to be liked and included, but feels isolated by her position. A primary pleasure in her life is messaging with Explizard92. They’re friends IRL and occasionally go into the dump to look for things for Alphys to blow up. She’s romantically interested in Alphys, but doesn’t see why the Royal Scientist would be interested in a “dumb soldier” like her. She doesn’t have great self-esteem and has never killed a human. She wants to thought to prove her worth as Captain.

Asgore - King of the Underground, he wears a stately uniform and cape and carries around a ceremonial trident. He guards six sealed human souls and is ultimately responsible for killing humans before they pass through the barrier. He’s never killed a human, however. One soul belongs to his late child, two were the result of the Royal Scientist’s traps (one from Alphys), and the other three were mysterious deliveries. He’s gotten many souls in the post (from who he never knows), but has only ever successfully sealed three of the souls in containment units. The other souls had perished in transport. He enjoys gardening and making tea, and playing Santa during the holidays. He loves children and loathes the aspect of his position that require him to make tough decisions. He misses his wife, but can never forgive her for what she did. He enjoys a good pun. 

Toriel - She wears the acolyte uniform of the ruins and her useless tiara. She was banished to the ruins after being blamed for the death of her children. She’s been trapped behind the door for years and blames her husband for not finding a way out of the Underground. Whenever a child falls into the ruins, she takes them home, feeds them a good meal, gives them a big hug, and then kills them, sending their soul to the King. Since she’s sent almost a dozen souls, her husband must be procrastinating - or the souls perished in the mail since all she has is cardboard boxes and no proper containment units. She doesn’t want to kill the humans, but she does it for her people even if they don’t know the role she plays. Some humans have escaped from her through the ruin door, and she considers that a failure - though, she’s not heartbroken that she doesn’t have to commit murder. Her ideal night involves practicing knock knock jokes, eating snail pie, and tuning the traps of the ruins. On the best nights, she gets to hug a human as they fall asleep and can forget what she’ll have to do to them in the morning. 

Grillby - He wears a full on suit and tie every night, thinking appearances are very important. His fire magic is incredibly hot, so he wears fire resistant gloves to keep his friends and merchandise safe. Occasionally, if he gets too emotional, the fire on his head with spout up and burn the roof of his bar. His food is popular, but incredibly expensive - he has to keep up repairs after all. Everyone has to pay, except for Sans. He’s an ill skeleton and has already spent so much money on medical expenses from his past. He’d burn in hell if he made that boy pay. Papyrus will only talk to him when he needs a light. 

Muffet - She wears her “little miss Muffet sat on a tuffet” outfit, but has a watch on every wrist. She is quiet, only ever speaking to her spider army in whispers, and is desperate to spread her treats with the Underground. Everyone is so repulsed by the concept of spiders that she can’t even give them away for free. However, she is a wonderful listener. If people weren’t so afraid of her, she’d have a hundred friends... or if her location were more ideal. Her ideal night involves taking care of her family.

Chara - They wear a two striped shirt that was passed down from Asriel. Adopted Prinxe of the Dreemur family. They are quiet, sweet, and flirt with everyone jokingly. Died when Toriel suggested they try cooking and Asriel brought them buttercups. They’re ideal night is cuddling with their family. This character is up to major interpretation as they are strongly based on the player’s perception, but they retain their ability to make friends.

Frisk - Wears overalls and a long sleeved shirt. They fell randomly after a hiking accident (their family on the surface is actively looking for them, but to no avail). Once they see the Underground, they know they want to save it. They successfully escape from Toriel in most time lines and easily skirts past the avoidant monsters of the underground (they put up a fight but never mean it). They know their death could rescue the underground, but they don’t want to die, so they spend their journey trying to think of substitutes for another human soul. They realize by the end that there is only one option, but Asgore can’t bring himself to do it. Their ideal night involves saving the world! (Either IRL or in their dreams). This character is up to major interpretation as they are strongly based on the player’s perception, but they retain their ability to think outside the box.

Asriel - Something was always wrong with the goat Prince. He never had a good sense of empathy. He’s very excitable and doesn’t always think things through, so he appears callous and often hurts those around him out of indifference. He brought Chara buttercups because he read that they would make them sick - he didn’t think they’d die or anything. He absorbed their soul to rain fire on the human world and see what would happen. He did not expect them to kill him so quickly, or that he would die in the flower field, or that he would lose his soul. His ideal night involves coming up with a prank to pull.

Flowey - Turns out losing his soul improved his sense of humanity. He experienced destruction and has a new outlook on life, one where he enjoys watching the underground as if it were a fish bowl full of pets he desperately wants to keep alive. Although he’s been around for a long time, he has not become ambivalent. He looks for different ways to improve monsters lives with each reset. He’s a sweet flower who remembers his parents and sibling fondly. If he had a second chance with a soul, he’d live life to the fullest. Right now he’s anonymous, and his only friend is Papyrus, someone who desperately needs a cheering up. His ideal night is spying on his parents or speaking with Papyrus - anything that reminds him of the life he used to have. 

Mettaton - He has an overly eccentric robot body made by Alphys that he often wears a trench coat over. She insists he occupy the “pretty” model, but he does prefer the old model. He’s pretty quiet and shy, but was encouraged by his cousin and ghost family to share his talent with the Underground. He brought his music to Alphys and she absolutely adored it - and was excited by the prospect of making an entire robotic suit. She agreed to make it free of charge so long as he’d be willing to use it in case of emergency to help the underground. He stays with her so she can keep his body in tune. Also, being a ghost in a robot body around other ghosts makes Mettaton highly uncomfortable. He mostly makes music videos and some vlog like shows, and he acts in shows written by his cousin. He prefers to play piano and sing over any other instruments - though he has branched out into electronica. He writes letters to his cousin and stays off the Undernet.

Napstablook - A ghost that always sports a top hat. He is happy and confident and loves being a showman throughout the underground. He runs a popular snail racing ring and plays MTTs music with a spin of his own remix. He encouraged his cousin to pursue his passion and proudly sits on the side lines while sending letters of support. For all of his positive energy, Mettaton convinced Alphys to make him a robot body, but he turned it down - he’s comfortable with himself just the way he is and if anyone doesn’t like it, they can suck it. He writes scripts for his cousin now and again but never visits him. He’s got too much going on in Waterfall. 

Gaster - The former royal scientist who narrowly escaped a fatal explosion (he forgot to put the tamping sand in) with a quick inter dimensional shortcut. Unfortunately, he was a smidge late and ended up scattering across space time. He now resides as a gooey black glop with a cracked skeleton face and disembodied hands in the void between realities. He’s presently trying to collect all of his scattered remains and, once he does, he’s going to return to his original dimension to reunite with his assistant and his family. In this universe, he is the skelebros father. Before his untimely death, he lived in Snowdin with his sons. He made them from human remains - as all skeleton monsters are reanimated. Sans came first and the process was highly flawed, so he came out as undercooked with low stats and chronic magic deficiencies. Gaster perfected the method with Papyrus, creating a fully realized skeleton monster. He spent the majority of the boys’ childhood working and raising money for Sans’s healthcare. He acknowledges his neglecting of Papyrus and that is one of the greatest regrets of his existence. Should he return, he would focus on amending his relationship with his youngest. He’s been called spacey and often hums and sings while he works. He tends to speak in riddles and is one of two monsters who can understand the secret skeleton language of WingDings. 

Riverperson - The guide of the river wears a hooded raincoat. They move their boat by uncertain means and aren’t much for conversation. If you can get them talking, they speak solely in the ancient skeleton language of WingDings - though rumors say they can speak in hieroglyphics. They’re never around for long and many hypothesize that he is a skeleton, but no one can see into the void of the hood. 

Gerson - This turtle has no volume control and wears a camouflage safari outfit. He yells and screams and seems to have lost his mind after the war as all he can really say is his name. In moments of lucidity, he will tell stories of his time in the war, his time as a scholar, and how he’s gained his collection of wares, but those moments are few and far between. 

Tems - Every Tem has a story. They live relatively simply and joyous lives, but they treat everything with a seriousness that rivals a veteran. Proud Parent Tem? Raising that egg is backbreaking and they have to work fifteen jobs to support it. Shop Tem? Not only is coleg incredibly expensive, but they have to walk fifty miles to and from the campus everyday in order to get their education. Hoives? Chronic and tortured life and you know nothing about their struggles. Bob? DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO BE A TEM NAMED-

Nice Cream Guy - Boy is he tired of the same gig for his entire life. It’s the only product people are interested in and he’s trapped in his vendor position. He regrets everything. 

Burgerpants - No one is happier to work at the Mettaton resort and Burgerpants. Best fifteen years of his life. 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Learning to Fly

Summary: Stretch enjoys the exhibit. Edge enjoys watching Stretch. It works out for everyone. 

Notes: Fluff. Tooth-rotting fluff. Achingly fluffy. Fluuuuuff. This is no way forwards any of the plots, it is only for my own soulful enjoyment. Please, bask in the fluff with me. 

Read on AO3

Read more from this series in the Masterlist:

~~*~~

Edge had never seen Stretch so still.

He was sitting on a bench, surrounded by towering trees with broad leaves outstretched, his rumpled pamphlet discarded next to him and every bit of him straining to keep still in an effort to entice. Sunlight was streaming in through the glass panels overhead, muted by the time it reached the ground and lighting the entire room.

The conservatory was very warm, and Stretch had shed his sweatshirt after only a few minutes inside. It was draped over Edge’s arm now as he stood back and watched, noting that Stretch’s t-shirt was getting on the thin side. He could see the shadow of his ribcage through it and while he was perfectly fine with the view, his preference was to keep it to himself, particularly in a public garden.

Along the cobbled pathways were a variety of flowers and greenery, discrete plaques listing their common and scientific name. The exhibit had opened a few weeks earlier and the crowds had died back to only the few humans strolling along, examining the foliage hopefully.

Much as he’d known that Stretch would love the butterfly exhibition, Edge had chosen not to tell him until some of the excitement surrounding it had abated. The potential for injury was too great with that many Humans milling around and much as Stretch hated being coddled, there were times it was necessary. Better to simply avoid the debate.

A group of uniformed schoolchildren walked past in a hushed cloud of awed whispers and giggles, drawing an occasional hissed admonishment from their guardian. One of the girls paused, peering out through the throng of her classmates and caught his eye.

Edge raised a browbone at her and to his bemusement, she raised her hand in a timid wave. He allowed a faint smile and waved back, watching as her eyes lit up and she grinned in delight, bouncing on her toes before turning to chase after her group. Edge could only shake his head.

Once, he’d inspired terror with that very same look; it was a little disconcerting to have it become tool of childish happiness. Disconcerting, but not entirely unpleasant.

A flutter of wings caught his attention and Edge turned around to catch a glimpse of scintillating colors high up in the leaves, iridescent blues alongside speckled white and black, contrasting against the scarlet and creamy yellow of the flowers. The little insects were everywhere, some large and others so tiny as to be barely visible in the vegetation.

There was a copse of trees to his left, the rough bark rising from the ground, up and up to leafy fronds and green globes fruiting from the top. To Edge, that was as fascinating as the butterflies. His few past glimpses of palm trees in his various diplomatic travels were nothing compared to actually seeing a coconut outside of a grocery store. According to the plaque, another nearby tree was papaya and the heavy green pods of fruit were hanging out of reach.

He wondered if it were possible to grow such a plant in a private home. They could hardly have one in the front yard, snow and palm trees were a poor mix, but perhaps if there was a dwarf variety? Something to consider.

The thought trailed away when Edge turned around and saw Stretch again.  

A large butterfly had settled on Stretch’s knee. Edge was hardly familiar with any species past monarchs, but the brochure listed that one as an ‘Emperor Swallowtail’, the vibrant yellow on its wings standing out against the darkness of Stretch’s track pants.

It fanned its wings slowly, seeming uncertain about its perch, then decided to settle, at least long enough for Edge to snap a picture of it, capturing not only the butterfly but the wonder in Stretch’s eye lights as he looked down at the tiny creature resting on his knee.

Edge wasn’t entirely positive Stretch was breathing.

It lingered a moment longer, then with a flutter of wings, it returned to the air, likely seeking out one of the honey-water feeding stations.

Following the path, Edge walked over to him, picking up his crumpled brochure and sitting on the bench.

“did you see that?” Stretch breathed. His eye lights were bright and wide.

“I did,” Edge assured him. Probably better to share the picture later if he didn’t want to spend the next few minutes forwarding it and then waiting for Stretch to post it to twitter. For the moment, social media seemed to be the last thing on Stretch’s mind, his hands fluttering much like the butterflies as he quivered in excitement.

“it landed right on me!” Stretch blurted, “right on me! that was an emperor swallowtail, papilio ophidicephalus, they’re native to south africa and it was sitting right on me!”

“It was,” Edge agreed. He very much doubted that Stretch had gotten any of that information from the brochure.

“they are so cool, they have special markings on them that can only be seen in ultraviolet light, isn’t that cool?”

“Very cool.” Long experience had taught him if he kept agreeing, Stretch would keep talking, drawing out his delight. It was only when silence greeted his excitement that he would trail off and find refuge in a cigarette and feigned apathy, a defense that Edge never wanted him to use, not with him.

He reached over and took Stretch’s flailing hand his own and he automatically twined their fingers together, allowing Edge to draw it into his lap while he chattered away.

“…i mean, it would take a little while to set up, but it wouldn’t be hard, maybe i could make up a plan and submit it to the conservatory? they could do a nighttime exhibit and…”

There was another flutter of wings close by and Edge kept his gentle grip on Stretch’s hands, holding him still and waiting for him to notice the approach of brilliant orange wings.

The butterfly did not seem to be dissuaded by the ongoing stream of chatter, landing with a flicker of wings right atop Stretch’s skull. Stretch didn’t notice, even as the little creature crawled forward to investigate the smooth bone, tempted, perhaps, by the sweet aroma of his magic.

“…plus you have to consider the possibilities of adding moths to the collection, a night time display would…”

“Love,” Edge interrupted and Stretch blinked at him, a faint, embarrassed flush rising in his cheekbones.

“oh. sorry, i was just—” He blinked again as Edge held up his phone.

“Hold still.” A quiet tap of his finger against the screen later and Edge held out his phone silently, showing Stretch the photo. Of himself, faint confusion on his face and a butterfly sitting above his right socket, as pretty as a bow.

He froze, eye lights tipping upward until they were nearly rolled back into his skull.

“You can’t see the top of your head, love,” Edge chuckled. “Here.” Very carefully, he set a finger against Stretch’s skull, nudging encouragingly and to his relief, the butterfly stepped onto it amicably enough, allowing him to bring it down within Stretch’s sight.

He sucked in a sharp breath, almost a moan, whispering, “ohhhh, it’s a glasswinged butterfly, greta oto, those are rare, look at that, isn’t it gorgeous?”

Edge wasn’t sure about that, but it was certainly fascinating. Its wings were edged in bright orange surrounding a transparent center, broken only by dark lines like a stained-glass window. It lingered, content to sit on Edge’s gloved finger while Stretch looked at it with barely contained excitement, his eye lights as brilliant an orange as those wingtips.

Eventually, it fluttered away and Stretch let out a stuttered gasp, confirming Edge’s suspicions that he was hardly breathing during these encounters.

“did you…” Stretch started, shook his head and tried again, “…can you believe…”

His hands were already moving, fumbling to express what his words were failing to, and Edge caught them gently, drawing them down. “If you can hold still, you might see another,” Edge teased. “If.”

“I can hold still,” Stretch told him loftily, and spoiled it immediately by tipping his skull up with a startled sound, taking in iridescent blue wings fluttering nearby. Defiantly, it ignored the enticement of Stretch’s honey-sweet scent and chose instead to settle on Edge’s sleeve, the contrary little thing. Its wings waved lazily, the lustrous blue shimmering in the light.

“morpho peleides,” Stretch whispered. Edge would take him at his word on that one. He held still, letting Stretch drink in the sight of a butterfly he never would have seen if they hadn’t come to the surface.

When it flew away, they both watched it go and Edge listened as Stretch offered a somewhat rambling explanation as to how it used the bright iridescent color, which was caused by the diffraction of light on millions of tiny scales, to frighten away predators, and that species preferred the juice from rotting fruit, wasn’t that interesting and—

The lecture he only mostly listened to, nodding and agreeing when appropriate to keep it from ending. His focus was on searching for other butterflies, on the specks of bright yellows and muted browns, soft blues and brilliant oranges fluttering around, waiting for another to alight where his love could see it.

-finis-

[ao3bronte]

ML Fluff Month

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Read it on A03

Sommeil - Chapter 3 Bed Sharing

Art by: @shaniartist

et si je compte et je compterai pour toi / je te conterai mes histoire/ et je compterai les moutons, pour toi

Marinette is so done.

Slumped over on her mattress and turned away from her mannequin purely out of spite, Marinette wallows in her defeat by binge watching Laura Rossignol’s new reality TV show for a second time on Netflix because suits suck . She hates them, she hates everything about them and they’re stupid and awful and they need to all go away.

Grumbling death threats under her breath, Marinette mashes her fingers against the keyboard of her laptop much harder than necessary and goes to start the next episode.

knock knock knock

Startled, Marinette freezes and looks up at her ceiling, her ears perking up as she recognises the telltale pitter patter of paws over her head. She checks the time and gapes at the numbers on her bedside table with betrayal for several moments before scrambling to her feet and pushing open the trapdoor above her head with a mighty shove, “Chat?”

“Hey,” he greets her, his soft smile belying the absolute exhaustion sagging beneath his eyes, “A little late to be watching trashy television isn’t it?”

Marinette opens her mouth to argue but can’t quite find it in herself to say otherwise, the 01:13 on her bedside alarm clock blinking up at her innocently.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” Chat amends quickly, taking her silence as something other than what it is and Marinette quickly vies to amend the situation, snatching his wrist without thinking in the hopes of dragging him down.

“No no, Chat, come in,” she tugs twice more and flops back down onto her mattress, watching quietly as Chat follows her through the entrance and latches it back up against the November chill, “I was just trying to de-stress before I went to bed.”

“De-stress?” Chat asks, holding her gaze. They’d usually have travelled down to the main floor of her bedroom by now but Marinette hardly has the energy, let alone the tenacity to face her abject failure, “I could use a little bit of that too.”

“Rough trip?”

“The roughest,” Chat scooches and promptly drops back, stretching his lanky limbs down passed the length of her bed frame, “After ten days, I’m just glad to be home.”

Marinette closes her laptop and tucks it beneath her pillow, “Want to tell me about it?”

“Maybe later,” Chat rolls onto his side to face her, “I’d rather hear about you.”

“Not much to talk about really,” she shrugs and there’s no lie in her words. There hadn’t been a single akuma attack in his ten day absence and the only action she’d gotten was a break-in at the Louis Vuitton store on les Champs-Elysées , “It’s been pretty quiet here. I’ve been working on my courses mostly as well as my advanced track design project.”

“And how’s that coming along?”

Marinette sticks out her lower lip, “Terribly. I hate suits.”

Chat’s eyes light up instantly, “Are these the same suits you used my measurements for?”

“Mmhmm,” she sulks, crossing her arms across her chest, “I can’t get the inner lining right.”

“Want me to take a look at it?”

Marinette’s eyebrows disappear beneath her bangs, “What?”

“Remember when I said I knew some things about fashion?” he says, referencing one of the many conversations they’d shared via Snapchat while he was away, “Well, I happen to know a few things about men’s fashion specifically, so I might be able to help. What do you say?”

“It’s okay,” she responds automatically, “I’ll figure it out eventually, there’s no need to—”

“No really,” Chat interrupts, launching himself off the bed platform soundlessly before she can so much as protest, “I want to help. All you do is help me all the time, so it’s only fair.”

“Wait!” she scrambles down the ladder after him, “Stop! Don’t—it’s not done! It’s not good and it needs so much work and—”

But Chat’s already got his claws beneath the white notch lapels, “This is actually really well done Marinette.”

Sputtering, she skids to a stop, “ Whaa? ”

“No really, look,” Chat peels open the unfinished white floral jacquard suit jacket and peers beneath, “This woven-in tapestry-style design is incredibly on trend right now, I mean, this is a pre-summer line right? This could show up on a Chanel runway right now and even Anna Wintour wouldn’t know the difference.”

If Marinette wasn’t short circuiting already, she certainly is now.

“But I see where the issue is. It looks like you’re off by a few centimetres on the lining, which is why the internal pockets are bunching. If you cut off a little here,” Chat points up towards the lapels again, “and here, you should be able to fix the issue. Want me to take it out for you?”

There’s a haze of pink and sparkles flooding her bedroom as Chat holds up his index finger, his claw as sharp as his smile, “Built in seam ripper. I’ll have this out in a jiff. Man, this is so 18th century chic, I can’t believe you made this, except I can because you’re awesome but still, this is on par with some of the things I’ve seen which is like, haute haute couture…”

Chat is still talking but Marinette is already gone, slack jawed and dazzled and horrified all at the same time as Chat works meticulously, expertly slicing through the thread she’d used to adhere the silk lining to the floral linen fabric that made the garment so unique. The silk loostens and Chat plucks it from the air just as it’s about to hit the floor, handing it over to her with a flourish, “See this part? When you fold it, you can see where your measurements are off. Cons of hand cutting fabrics but hey, could be worse right?”

“Uh…” Marinette blinks down at the proffered fabric and back up at him, repeating the gesture several times before scooping her jaw off the hardwood, “T-thanks.”

“No worries,” Chat replies but he’s looking a little unhinged himself, “I’d cataclysme it for you but I think you’d have better luck with scissors.”

“Y-yeah uh,” she stutters, taking the fabric from his fingers. Her bare hands brush against his glove just for a moment and she can feel the heat of him through his suit in a way she’s never paid attention to before, “Let me uh, let me just get my scissors.”

“Sure,” he says as she turns towards her desk, “It really is an awesome jacket. I kind of wish I had one myself.”

Marinette tries to quell the blush flooding her cheeks at the compliment and fails miserably, “You can have it when I’m done with it if you want.”

“Really?” she squeezes her eyes shut at the brightness in his voice and with a quick mental check, she turns herself back around to face him, “I would love that. I have the perfect white trousers for it.”

“You do?” Marinette desperately tries to recover, the weight of her fabric scissors comforting in her hands, “What do they look like?”

“Well, they’re slim fit so they’ll go with the way this jacket is cut so close to the body,” Chat rubs his thumb along the flowers at the bottom of the jacket, tracing them upwards until they thin to white near the breast pockets, “I love that, by the way. Last year was nothing but chunky, oversized silhouettes.”

“Oh, I remember,” Marinette still can’t believe she’s having an actual conversation about fashion with Chat (of all people!) , “Everyone looked like they were wearing empty sacks of flour. They were nicely adorned, but they were still kind of...well, ugly .”

“Right?” Chat snickers as he fetches her pin cushion, “Anyway, these trousers have a fleur de lys pattern on them, kind of like an overlay, but it’s so subtle that it won’t distract from this awesome flower pattern on the jacket. Oh, and shoes! I picked up these loafers recently, they’re black and white and have these fun little shark teeth tassels at the front. They’d be totally unexpected, or I could just go with the plain black ones, or the steel gray…”

Again, Marinette finds herself somewhat lost in the surrealism of it all as Chat continues to prattle on about haute couture, the latest designs and what have you. She’s watching him more often than not, enraptured with the way his arms move as he speaks, the way his eyes, although tired, light up with an unusual passion that has nothing to do with the typical flirting and carrying on. It’s bizarre and amazing all at the same time, watching Chat talk about fashion and move and act like an actual human being, not just some casanova wrapped in leather that she’s become so used to as Ladybug.

Finishing the last cut, Marinette brings the silk lining back over to the mannequin and chatters back and forth with him about the other finished pieces in her collection, content to work together as he hands her the pins one by one to put the lining back in place. Within only a few minutes, the jacket is finished and the two of them step back together in tandem, their arms brushing as they take in the fruits of their labour.

“I’ll sew it in tomorrow and make all the finishing touches,” Marinette says, beaming at the jacket before turning her attentions to Chat, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Chat replies and his smile inspires that addictive feeling again, that familiar aura of pink and sparkles conspiring to steal her breath away, “What do you say to a little celebration for a job well done?”

Marinette sucks in a breath and tries to focus, “What exactly do you have in mind?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. We could watch a movie? Relax? I’m kind of beat.”

“I can tell,” Marinette just barely resists the urge to brush her thumb across the bags beneath his eyes, “Come on, my laptop’s up there.”

“On your bed?” he asks, his voice just barely cracking and Marinette wonders for a moment if he too is finding this all a little surreal, “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Marinette responds, staunchly ignoring the flutter in her abdomen as she scales the ladder, “We’re friends right? Chez moi, c’est chez toi, but only if you’re comfortable.”

“No no,” Chat immediately recovers, leaping up to where he’d been sprawled out on her mattress only a half hour before, “It’s good. I just...I don’t think I’ve ever...um, try not to take this weirdly.”

“I already am,” she says, peering at him strangely. It’s his turn to blush now, his glance pointedly fixed at her window across the way.

“I’ve just...you know, before all of this,” he gestures between them, still looking away, “I’ve never actually done the whole sleepover thing and...yeah.”

Marinette blinks several times and tries to get her tired brain to piece together whatever the hell he’s trying to say, “Wait, you’ve never had a sleepover before?”

“I guess?” Chat fidgets nervously, “I mean, I do all the time with you so not anymore but before that...no.”

“No sleepovers as a kid?”

“Wasn’t allowed.”

“And you never crawled in with your parents at night when you were little?”

“I tried once,” he leans back, propping himself on her pink kitten pillow, “That’s when they started locking my door at night.”

Outraged, Marinette barrels through myriad of emotions, none of them good, “Your parents locked you in your room at night?!”

“It’s not so bad,” he shrugs nonchalantly, still staring a hole into the opposite wall, “I got really good at ignoring thunderstorms after a while. Now I can sleep right through them.”

“But what if there was a fire or something?!”

“Good thing I’m Chat Noir then,” he taps the surface of his ring, “I can just jump out the window whenever I like.”

“I’m…” Marinette shakes her head, “I’m kind of mad at your parents right now.”

“Don’t be. I grew up purrrfectly fine, right Purrincess?”

Marinette knows a deflection when she sees one and let’s it slide, if only to avoid the unsettling truth he’d been laying out for her, “I don’t know about that. I’d say you could use another trip to the vet.”

“Meow-ch,” Chat brings a hand to his chest in mock offense, finally turning towards her, “Do you and Ladybug just sit around and come up with ways to insult me?”

“Nooooo” Marinette flounders for a second, overcompensating with a wild wave of her hand, “Ladybug and I? No no, you’re just a really easy target.”

“Am I?” he looks almost contemplative for a moment, “I’ll have to try and up my game then.”

“Good luck with that,” Marinette brings up her family’s Netflix account on her laptop and turns the screen towards him, “Any preferences?”

“What’s in the new releases?”

“Let’s look,” she clicks on it and brings up the list, “I haven’t seen any of these before.”

“Me neither. I don’t really have time to watch movies anymore.”

“It just takes so long,” Marinette replies emphatically, settling down beside him and she can practically feel his body heat coming off of him in waves, “I’ve got way too much to do so I mostly just play TV shows and listen to what’s happening.”

“I do the same thing!” Chat exclaims, thumping his fist against the mattress for emphasis, “We have a lot more in common that I realised.”

“We do,” she murmurs back just as Chat yawns, his sharp but still subtle fangs glinting off the light of her lamp, “You sure you can stay up to watch a movie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods his head, his eyes dropping just a little as he rolls towards her, “I actually didn’t sleep that badly while I was away thanks to all the gifts you gave me.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” she turns to smile at him only to find his nose just a few centimetres away, “I uhh...I mean, I’m just happy I could help.”

“Those bath bombs were the best,” he continues, seemingly impervious to the sudden closeness and Chat yawns again, stretching his limbs in a move so catlike that Marinette almost has to pinch herself to keep from commenting, “Everything was the best. You’re the best.”

His eyes begin to drift shut and Marinette’s mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to fight for the right response but it’s already too late, his breaths leveling, his lips parting ever so slightly as he sinks deeper into sleep against her pillow. Marinette has to bring her hands to her mouth just to keep herself from wheezing, or crying, or doing whatever it is her throat is doing because holy hell, has he always looked like this? She’s seen him fall asleep in front of her dozens of times, his eyes closing, his body going slack against her chaise, his head lolling over to one side. She’s used to that Chat, the puddle of grown up boy wrapped in magic leather Chat, the charity case all tucked in beneath her pink flannel blanket Chat.

But now?

He’s snuffling.

Ohhh, he’s being so damn adorable and she just wants to touch him so she does, finally giving into those god awful desires that seemed to have literally sprung up out of nowhere. Since when did she think he was cute ? And how did that happen? Yeah, she’d been indulging herself with the purring and the petting most nights, which hopefully he’d never find out about, but…??? It’s all just coming up question marks in her head, these feelings, these urges to just reach out and brush her fingers through his hair and yes here comes the purr, the one she's so fond of, the one that turns them both to goo if she’s going to be honest with herself. She loves the way it seems to vibrate through her mattress, making her entire body seem to thrum like lemon sherbets, the feeling effervescent on her skin and through her senses. She closes her eyes and revels in it, loses herself in it and suddenly she’s out like a light within minutes, her fingers still buried in his hair.

~

It’s just barely dawn outside when she begins to feel herself stir, roused from a cocoon of warmth so comfortable she’s loathe to part from it. She curls closer, burrowing deeper and there's a breeze on her cheek as humid as a July evening by the Seine, and for a moment, Marinette imagines herself being back there, her legs swinging freely from the flying buttresses of Notre Dame de Paris, not a care in the world as her partner sits beside her, lays beside her, their thoughts and voices intertwined—

There's a sudden, startling sensation, the slightest pressure gentle and featherlight against her skin. It's on her brow, pressing there like a promise, returning once more on the tip of her nose. It feels good, she thinks, and she leans into it, soft and warm and safe and comfortable in an embrace she can't quite decipher yet but god , does it ever feel good.

She fades out again as the pressures cease only to be roused again by a weight, this time against her lips, dry and warm and barely moving. It's over before she knows it, the light rush of breath against her cheek fleeting and she chases it instinctively, curling into it, hopelessly tangled in bedsheets and warmth as she loses herself to the throes of sleep once again.

“A plus, princesse.”

There’s a shift in her mattress and the warmth and weight is suddenly gone to the tune of her trapdoor’s latch closing shut, a quiet sound that’s just enough to wake her. She opens her eyes just as her sleep addled brain catches up with the rest of her body, her fingers finding their way to her lips.

Did he just...kiss me?

[arcandtwitchyaus]

The double date

more labbound fics!

The emergence of trolls into society had resulted in less chaos then one might have expected. However minor problems were still common even with society mostly ready to accept them. One of the increasingly noticeable problems was the size difference. Even the smallest male trolls were still taller then most humans. The preexisting human society was too small. Cars, houses and public spaces all proved to be awkward or downright unusable for trolls. However more and more businesses were beginning to take troll sizes into consideration when designing their products. It helped that Roxy Lalonde senior and the eldar peixes both headed large and influential companies. Indeed some previously abandoned areas of cities were being designated as sort of “troll towns” where they would be rebuilt with their larger size in mind.

One of these areas had been developed enough that some homes and a few shops and restaurants had been established as a sort of small community. Small being a relative term of course given that even little diners had to be scaled up majorly to account for trolls. One diner in particular Named after it owner Neviie was in a rush as its small number of staff worked to prep the small restaurant for the arrival of its most important guests since they had started doing business.

“chop chop! Everything must be in order for Ms Pyrope and her friends! Neviie called out directing the staff most of which were trolls. Neviie herself was a tall and rather busty purple blood with her long hair pulled into a ponytail. Her 1950’s style waitress outfit strained around her troll basket ball sized bust leaving a line of cleavage on display. These were to be her first big name customers and she was understandably nervous.

Joey sat in the back shifting from discomfort as the car bounced along the road. Xefros sat next to her chattering excitedly about the restaurant they were going to. Joey smiled rubbing the side of her large belly full with children. She had become somewhat of a recent celebrity herself in the medical community being the first to carry a human-troll pregnancy. Suffice to say she was quite large despite having at least several months to go, possibility a year or more. No one was quite sure with a hybrid pregnancy but it was quite clear she was carrying more then a human pregnancy would have. She was about 6 months in and her belly was a little bigger then she was tall. That wasn’t the only place she had grown. Joey had been fairly curvy before but now her hips were a good deal wider then her shoulders, her butt was like a shelf and her thighs thicker then some peoples waists, and her boobs, her boobs were a good twice the size of her head and spilled heavily out of the neckline of the dress she was wearing. Between her boobs and her belly her dress which was intended to be past knee length had been stretched into little more then a half shirt forcing her to wear shorts for modesty's sake. Though the shorts looked a little snug on her at this point too.

The Taxi pulled up to the restaurant front where terezi and karkat were already waiting. Terezi was even bustier then joey remembered. “Good grief they reach her hips now” Joey accidentally said aloud. “Well um your not… uh small either.. I mean in that way!” Xefros stuttered.  Joey giggled. “fair point” “Hey guys! Hows it going!” terezi called out. Xefros stepped out of the car and moved to the side to help joey. “do you need more help?” karkat asked feeling a bit awkward watching. “no we got this.” joey grunted. Xefros held her hand and helped maneuver her huge belly out of the car. She swayed slightly as she emerged from the car. Her belly protruded far in front of her passing her arm length and stopping a little less then a foot from the ground at its lowest point.  Her back arched in a futile attempt to compensate for her extra front weight. “wow.. you look great!” terezi exclaimed looking a little shocked at joeys appearance. “uh thanks” joey replied blushing.

The group headed into the Diner. Joey’s belly rocked back and forth. She had to hold xefros’ hand and lean against him slightly to keep her balance. Next to them terezi and karkat walked in holding hands. Terezi’s huge boobs bobbed and heaved in the slim-fitting red dress she wore. The low neckline showed off plenty of spilling cleavage and the pinched waist drew attention to how wide her hips were. Karkat came to about boob height with terezi his flushed red face showing that he was well aware of this.

“Ms. Pyrope! Welcome! We have a table set up already for you-” Neviie paused noticing how much curvier terezi was then when she was last in the news and noticing how.. fertile joey was. “erm ill make some arrangements to make you all more comfortable. In my excitement I prepared a little to early and misjudged how the furniture needed to be arranged. My apologies.” Neviie apologist. “its fine we don’t mind” terezi grinned.