#she likes flashing her teeth and claws around you a lil too much

[rush-the-stars]

cici…….. your tags … lioness!tao and lamb!reader….

AMIRA WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME OH MY GOD.

lioness!tao and her little lamb….her little lamb that she protects. takes care of. sort of stalks but really she’s only playing….she just sorta likes when your heart gets going…..likes to curl around you all lazy.

[meganshinsou-tm]

the best alpha’s. (f)

☙ pairing: bakugou x reader x kirishima

☙ theme: a/b/o, domestic dads

☙  cw/tw: profanity, a/b/o characteristics, scenting, slight self-doubt, baku needs a hug, cute alpha dads with their pup.

☙  a/n-request:  Baku and Kiri (separately but also maybe poly??? is 3 different scenarios too much?) being absolute fuckin badass units on the job kickin ass and sassin reporters (lookin at u Explodo 👀) but the SECOND they walk thru the door and see their lil omega and pup they melt into Soft Dad Mode ™ and just wanna scent their precious beans bc they love them so much and there is just a lot of “wow I’m happy to come home to you” 🥺🥺🥺

** so I just did them in a poly ship, hope you like it. ^-^

“Where the fuck is she?”

The moment you hear that gruff voice and smell not one but two annoyed alpha’s you freeze for only a second before smiling and poking your head out of the kitchen. Down the short hallway, Bakugou and Kirishima are both seen removing their shoes and duffels, using each other to lean against in the process. 

Kirishima is the first to pick up your happy and excited scent, his nose sniffing the air and face turning in your direction with one of those famous sharp toothed grins. He rumbles loudly and shoves Bakugou off so he can take massive strides in your direction. Soon there are large calloused hands cupping your face and you’re nuzzling each other’s cheeks. The scent of mountain rapids fills your nose and has you purring loudly along with Kirishima’s steady rumbling in his chest, sharp teeth softly nip at your cheek and cause you to chirp happily.

“Man I missed you.”

You chuckle and pet Kirishima's chest. “You saw me this morning.”

���It’s been a long day,” he breathes out after taking in a giant lungful of your honeysuckle scent.

Pulling away, you let the alpha hug you close while eyeing the other who was quickly approaching. You reach out a hand when Bakugou gets closer and his scent of flint and a sweet campfire mixes with Kirishima’s. Bakugou doesn’t waste a moment in pressing his cheek to the inside of your palm, his hand coming up to hold it there while he takes in numerous breaths of your scent in order to calm himself. 

“I saw.” 

Kirishima chuckles and pets the top of Bakugou’s head teasingly, earning a growl but no movement from the blonde alpha. 

“That reporter was asking stupid questions.”

You laughed and moved to hug Bakugou next when Kirishima finally released you, now nuzzling him instead. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, his inner alpha clawing inside of his head to get any sort of comfort from you. 

Like Kirishima said, it had been a long day. They went hard nonstop against multiple villains and at the end of it, reporters caught up to the alpha duo to pester them with pointless questions about their day. Most of the time Kirishima handled the on the spot interviews but today Bakugou was just at his limit. Maybe it was because he was hungry and tired, and maybe because his rut was going to start within the next two weeks and it was making him more antsy than usual.

So before Kirishima could calmly engage with the reporter, Bakugou snapped and may or may not have gone on a tirade about how fed up he was with reporters being stuck up his ass and many other profanities. All while Kirishima struggled to literally hold the blonde back from destroying the mics and cameras with his teeth. 

“He has to make a public apology in a few days, after some mandatory off time.” 

Kirishima spoke, trying to hide his grin while patting Bakugou’s back and kissing his cheek and yours. He decided to give you a couple more minutes and wandered into the kitchen to make himself and Bakugou some drinks. 

You shifted slightly and Bakugou whimpered, arms tightening around you. His scent suddenly turned distressed and you crooned against his cheek. 

“It’s okay alpha, I’m not going anywhere.”

Bakugou relaxed at that and buried his face into your neck, seeking out more of your calming pheromones as you tousled his hair and rubbed his back.

“I just … fuck, I thought I had gotten better and I then I fucked it up.”

“Katsuki, look at me,” you demanded in the softest way that only you could do.

Bakugou sighed and pulled away from the crook of your neck to look down at you with red eyes full of shame. If he had ears, you were sure they would be flat against his head. With a smile, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and leaned forward to kiss his lips. 

“You had one bad day, it’s not the end of the world. Your job is one of the most gruelling and stressful ones out there - you’re entitled to a blow-up here and there, shit happens. Maybe you could’ve handled this one differently but then again, maybe not. You can only take so much and I think a few days off will do you some good.”

Bakugou grumbled.

“You’re not a bad person for one bad day Katsuki. You’re a good alpha - the best alpha.”

The sound of Kirishima clearing his throat from the kitchen rang throughout the air, making you and Bakugou snicker. 

“You’re one out of two of the best alpha’s.”

Instantly loud purring could be heard from the redhead and you smiled before kissing Bakugou again. He rumbled and chirped while scenting you and being scented just a few seconds longer. 

“I’m the best alpha,” he breathed out against your scent gland, loud enough for only you to hear.

You smiled and nodded, nipping at his cheek then pulling away.

“I know someone who will be very happy that you’ll be home for the next few days.”

At that Bakugou perked up and his happy scent grew tenfold. A genuine smile stretched on his face and he rubbed the tip of his nose against yours, earning a giggle. Suddenly though, the sound of Kirishima bolting from the kitchen caught yours and Bakugou’s attention and soon enough Bakugou was growling with narrowed eyes. He quickly pecked your cheek before taking off after Kirishima towards the living room.

“No way Shitty Hair, me first!”

You rolled your eyes and started to walk after them. 

“It’s been seven months now you overgrown pups - fucking share!”

Kirishima barked out a laugh while Bakugou cackled, the two of them dropping to the plush rug on the living room floor the second their red eyes landed on their pup. Thankfully she was waking up from her nap, surrounded safely by soft barriers of a mini nest you made for her. The moment her own red eyes landed on the two alpha’s kneeling before her she squealed and made grabby hands in their direction while spouting out gibberish. 

Bakugou snarled when Kirishima went to scoop her up. The redhead sighed and sat back, letting Bakugou take her first with a pout.

“You’re not fair babe, you’re gonna get three whole days with her!”

“Shut up, I deserve it.”

You giggled and stood behind Kirishima, bending over him and giving him an upside down kiss in order to distract him from Bakugou, basically gloating.  He hummed and lifted a hand to pinch your cheek, kissing back. When you pulled away, you let the alpha’s be, going back to the kitchen after giving Bakugou and your pup a kiss.

Bakugou held the small pup close, scenting her chubby cheeks and tiny hands that grabbed at his face. She smelled like you, too young to have presented yet and have a scent of her own. But it wouldn’t be long before your scent was gone and completely masked with his and Kirishima’s. After getting his small fill, she was handed over to her other papa.

They redheaded alpha smiled and cooed, always the more talkative one with your pup.

“Hi there princess. Did you have a good nap?” He chimed, kissing the inside of tiny little hands.

She responded with a smile that flashed her singular sharp tooth that had started to grow so far and a giggle. Kirishima scented her as well, lifting her high in order to blow against her pudgy tummy and sides, earning more squeals and heart stopping giggles. 

Bakugou sat back and watched happily, already feeling more and more relaxed and content. His stresses from the day were quickly fading away the more he and Kirishima played with and scented the blonde little pup. All three of them rolled around on the floor, crawling and playing peek-a-boo. Then came the alpha’s favorite game which was Bakugou holding his pup by the hands to stand on excited bouncy legs, maneuvering her like a doll to beat up Kirishima. Bakugou would laugh and snort while making her kick and punch at his alpha mate, lifting her up to swan dive onto Kirishima’s rumbling chest. All while Kirishima played his part of the villain, pleading and faking hurt very dramatically.

You’d watch on from the kitchen, continuing dinner with a smile and purring happily. Once you got to a point where the food could be unattended, you set the timer for thirty-minutes and made your way into the now quiet living room. In the floor laid both alphas, snuggled up close on either side of your pup with their hands resting on her tummy and chubby thigh. All three of them were peacefully napping.

Soft rumbles came from Bakugou and Kirishima in their sleep while a tiny purr could be heard from your pup. You smiled and lowered onto the floor, moving to lay where Bakugou and Kirishima’s heads were, curling around them and alternating between petting their heads.

They really were the best alpha’s.

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. one.

WARNING: JJK spoilers. canon-typical violence.

prologue < current > two

Nov. 2016

“Didja hear about the new transfer student starting today?” Panda asked, poking his head into your room. You push him out of the doorway and lead the way outside where you collect Inumaki and Maki to walk to class together.

You hummed slightly before answering, “Not really. Nii-chan said he wanted to surprise us with him.”

“He stuffed four - four, you guys! - of his classmates into a locker.”

“Killed them?” Maki asks, shifting her weapons case to sit higher on her shoulder. Inumaki leans over, interested.

“Nope! Only ‘severe’ injuries,” Panda explains, using his claws to make quotation marks around the word severe.

“I wonder what his lineage is. If he’s a transfer then he probably doesn’t have an inherited technique. Maybe we both can train together!” Your steps get a little lighter at the thought of adding to your harem. Maki glares at you as if she heard your thoughts and gives an audible hmph.

“If he’s cocky about being the strongest at some bumpkin junior high, I’ll rough him up.” Maki declares. “I bet you’re too tired to even train today, (y/n).”

“Salmon.”

You gasp dramatically. “Even you, Toge-kun? I can’t believe my favorite partner would do me like that. You both know it’s a Monday, I only did five kilometers this morning, thank you very much. And if you would actually join me sometime, you would understand that’s an easy distance.” You toss your hair and point your nose upward sarcastically.

Inumaki rolls his eyes, “Bonito flakes.”

“What he said,” Maki nods. “It's bad enough you convinced Gojo we have to run laps to warm-up before training.” You pout at such blatant rebuffs. Another failed attempt to get a workout buddy. Not that any of your classmates were weak, quite the opposite, they just kept training to what they saw as most essential - cursed techniques and fighting.

“You wouldn’t want them on your run anyways,” Panda says, trying to cheer you up, “You’d just leave them in the dust and end up alone on your trail anyways.” You chuckle at the annoyed noise Maki makes and move to enter the classroom first. As always, you claim the desk furthest from the door and closest to the window. Inumaki sits next to you, a habit from when you both met as children at clan meetings, Maki next to him, and Panda by the door.

You toss your jacket across the back of your chair and breathe in relief. The terrible things were so heavy and while it was great in the winter, November was still too hot to be covered in fabric. You smooth your skirt across your thighs to cover more skin and turn to ask Inumaki a question about the homework when Satoru slams the door of the classroom open. “Transfer student incoming! Let’s get this party -,” he trails off seeing the bored look on everyone’s face, “-started? (y/n), explain why you’re not totally pumped.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you asking as my brother or my teacher right now?”

“I heard he’s a punk. I have no interest in being nice to that kind of guy.” Maki interrupts.

“Salmon.”

Satoru pouts when you nod and Panda remains silent. “Whatever.” he turns and cups his hand around his mouth to yell at the closed door. “Come on in now!”

A deep sense of dread settles in your stomach when the door inches open. You and Inumaki share a look and he is already reaching to push up his sleeve and pull down his zipper. The boy who walks in is hunched in over himself and would be cute if not for the enormous curse hanging onto his back. The monster sneers with elongated teeth over his shoulder while he makes his introduction. Although neither makes an offensive move, every student makes one choreographed movement to circle around him in a defensive measure. Maki thrusts her blade into the blackboard behind Yuta Okkotsu. “Don’t you know you’re cursed?” She sneers at him down the staff, “We learn about curses here. It’s not a place for people who are cursed.”

Satoru doesn’t move an inch when he begins the spiel you’ve heard a million times: where curses originate, how sorcerers exorcise them, and how Jujutsu High trains each generation of sorcerers. It’s clear he didn’t explain this to Yuta, as the already pale boy becomes almost translucent. You take a step back, still hesitant about what must be a special-grade curse, but trusting that your brother would never endanger you. Well, at least not to the point of possible death. If he brought Yuta to your class, there must be a reason.

But then two giant arms emerge from the blackboard to grab Maki’s weapon from her hands. An ominous voice that makes you suddenly nauseous warns, “Don’t bully Yuta!” The arms swipe your friends onto their backs in one smooth movement. Panda thumps against the wall and Inumaki slides across the floor, hitting his head on an upturned desk. Maki stumbles backwards, shocked at the easy strength of the curse.

“Stop!” The technique you borrowed from Inumaki forces everyone in the room to freeze and you fall to your knees coughing, suddenly exhausted. Your brother breaks your hold and moves away from where he leaned against his desk when he first entered the room to offer you a hand. You stand on shaky legs as he explains how Yuta came to be cursed. Satoru allows you to clasp both hands onto the one still supporting you, allowing his technique to be borrowed and releasing the hold you had on your classmates.

You move to stand with them in solidarity as they gather to their feet. Maki takes the role of your pillar, allowing you to stand slightly behind her and grip the back of her jacket, while Inumaki hands you a cough drop from his pocket. You nod a thanks, still unable to speak. God, you need to train with his technique more. He can get at least three strong commands out before being incapacitated.

“They’re going through a rebellious phase, so let me introduce everyone. First is my precious lil sister, Gojo (y/n). She copies techniques by touch, so ignore how handsy she gets.” Satoru smiles and winks behind his blindfold, “Maki Zen’in. Cursed tool user; she uses special tools to exorcise curses. Cursed speech user Toge Inumaki, (y/n) copied his technique in that little show. His vocab is limited to rice ball ingredients. And Panda.” He points at each of you as he travels down the line. Yuta moves to join where the four of you had previously stood united against him. “Wow! Five first years! That's the biggest class in a while. Yaga must be so jealous the great Gojo-san can recruit so many talented young ones.” Satoru mimes wiping a tear from his blindfolded eyes and you roll your own at his self-praise. Yuta nervously (maybe curiously? nervous is the most common reaction) eyes Panda.

By now, you can mostly stand on your own, but gesture for another cough drop from Inumaki. He indulges you, though reluctantly. You make a mental note to buy a pack to refill both your own and his pocket stashes. But first, an afternoon practical where you’re paired with your brother. A pairing which means you two will just take the Gojo family card for a trip around whatever district you’ll be traveling to. Not that you’d ever complain about that. Inumaki and Panda are paired together, which leaves Maki and the new kid. Yuta moves to stand in front of Maki (and you, by default, since you’re still slightly hidden behind her) and says quietly, “I’m, uh, looking forward to working with you.” He manages a shaky smile.

Maki narrows her eyes. “You were bullied, right?” He visibly shakes but doesn’t respond. “Thought so. You’re totally bully-able. Probably because of the curse. You act like such a good person but it feels fake; it feels gross. You’re being protected, why act like a victim?” You elbow her side with a frown but she carries on. “I bet you’ve been passive your whole life. No goals. No aspirations. Jujutsu High ain’t that easy.”

Panda takes a step to stand firmly next to Yuta and places a giant paw on his shoulder. “That’s enough, Maki.” Inumaki agrees sternly.

“Fine. Whatever,” she scratches at her head, embarrassed at being reprimanded by each of her classmates. She is the first one to leave the room, not waiting for Gojo’s dismissal. Not like each of you don’t know the routine for missions.

The class begins to trickle out slowly and you hesitate before grabbing Yuta’s wrist to tug him gently back into the room. “I wanted to apologize. Maki isn’t always nice, but I promise she’s one of the kindest souls I know. I’m glad you joined our class, Yuta-san.” You smile in a way you hope reassures him. You walk away quickly, hoping to still have time to grab a pair of shorts from your dorm. You think you might just let a curse kill you if you have to fight in a skirt again after accidentally flashing your underwear at Panda last mission. Due to leaving so fast, you miss the sight of Yuta’s frozen body burning up in a deep blush.

The six of you arrive at an elementary school without any more fights in the car. Just a thick, awkward silence. Yuta seems sweaty and is constantly wiping his palms on his pants as the group approaches the building. Gojo-sensei gives the usual mission brief, explaining how children have recently started going missing and two curses are responsible. Team Panda will be responsible for one, Team Maki for the other. “And what will Team Gojo be doing?” Maki asks, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

“Keeping an eye on the perimeter, of course! (y/n), if you will.” You nod and begin the chant to create a curtain.

“W-what is that? it’s turning to night!” Yuta yells.

“That is a curtain. It’ll make you guys invisible to the outside world and reveal the curses inside.” Gojo-sensei pats Yuta reassuringly on the shoulder. You follow him to stand outside of the curtain. Before it closes your classmates in, Gojo adds, “Don’t go dying on us now.”

You snort and hit your brother's arm. “You shouldn’t scare him like that. Poor boy looked like he was going to faint. So, are we leaving or actually keeping an eye on them?”

“I’m curious about how Rika will react when Yuta is in actual danger. Let’s wait,” he replies. You nod and move to sit cross-legged on the hood of the car while Satoru leans against the side. “...This also gives time for your precious Nii-chan to catch up on gossip. Has sweet Toge caught onto your crush yet?”

You flush and cross your arms across your chest. Moving to angle your body away from him, you pout and petulantly say, “There’s no crush. We’re just good partners. He's the only one of my classmates I can actually take a technique from, so of course I spend time training with him!”

Satoru smiles and hums, “No need to be so defensive. You know I approve if there was a crush though, right?” You just nod, relieved he was letting it drop so easily. “Although, your poor brothers might get jealous if we get even less time with you. We’re your best partners ever, after all.”

“Of course, Nii-chan. You know Team Gojo is undefeatable,” you say. Suddenly, both of you startle and whip your heads towards a point behind the curtain. Even without copying Satoru’s six-eyes, you can see the sudden burst of cursed energy. The wave of power makes you so nauseous, you turn your head and gag slightly.

“Freaky,” Satoru chuckles. “So that's the true identity of special grade cursed spirit Rika Orimoto. Women sure are scary.”

“If he lost control of her, something must be wrong,” you hop up from your seat and step forward to dismiss the curtain.

Yuta steps through the curtain right as your hand reaches out to dash the veil away. The sight startles you. He's covered in the usual grime from missions but it’s how he collapses on top of two children he obviously carried out and the unconscious Maki draped over his back that scares you. You move to untangle the limbs and check Maki for injuries while Satoru steps forward, in teacher-mode again, and says, “Welcome back. You did it.”

You stick your hand out impatiently gesturing for the first aid kit kept in the car. When Gojo places it in your hands, you rush to tourniquet Maki’s leg where there’s an obvious gouge in the flesh. Gojo continues to talk with Yuta, likely a debrief, while you move onto the two children. Neither has any wounds that you can treat - they’re obviously cursed but that requires Auntie Shoko’s technique. You report all of this to your brother and he instructs the driver to be sure to take everyone back to school. He tells you to be sure to help ‘Ieiri-san’ with the children, and while you wrinkle your nose at the formality (Auntie Shoko has never separated her role in your personal life from her role in your training), you easily agree. With some effort and not much help from an exhausted Yuta, you manage to get all four into a car. You slide into the passenger seat and nod to signal the driver to start the car.

After copying her reversed healing cursed technique, the pair of you don’t take long to heal the children and Maki. Maki regained consciousness while you were working on her, nearly kicking you in the face. She gave you a short debrief of what had happened and, knowing she was now okay, you took great delight in teasing her for messing up her first chance to impress your new classmate. “Oh man, Toge-kun is going to love this. I can't believe Miss ‘I’ll rough him up’ got swallowed! You completely fucked up a first impression,” you cackled and dodged her kick. Shoko gave you an exasperated look from across one of the kid’s hospital beds.

“Leave my patients alone, (y/n). Go tell your idiot brother everyone is fine.”

taglist: @rowanthefox

[spaceprincessem]

Hale Appreciation Week Prompt: Hale Headcanons @haleweek​

Okay, so just a few lil headcanons for Derek and Peter. See if you can figure out what they are :) (featuring sterek cause of course it does) 

Cause you're a hard soul to save {With an ocean in my way}

“Isaac,” Malia growled, finger’s digging into the wood of the table sitting between them, “you need to vote.”

“No,” Isaac snarled in return, arms across his chest, “I’m not taking part in any of this.”

Malia’s biting retort died on her lips as Derek flashed her a warning look. She swallowed hard, jaw clenching as she rocked back on her heels, still glaring at the curly headed boy. 

“Since Isaac is abstaining,” Lydia cut through the tension, “that leaves Peter and Derek.”

“Why does Peter get a vote?” Scott asked, wearily looking at the older man who was casually sitting on the spiral staircase looking rather at ease.

“Like it or not,” Peter grinned, all teeth, “I am part of this pack.”

“Barely,” Isaac murmured, before immediately going quiet as Malia fixed him with a murderous glare.

“So,” Lydia clicked her tongue impatiently, “what do you think, Peter?”

“The bite is a gift,” Peter shrugged nonchalantly, “and apparently our last hope.”

Kira ran a soothing hand over Scott’s back as he deflated, while Cora and Malia exchanged a small look of triumph. Lydia’s jaw was clenched, but she quickly rolled her shoulders, gaze moving towards Derek. The rest of the pack’s eyes followed. The steely silence made it feel like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. Derek’s palms were pressed against the table, leaning his weight forward, head dipped down as his claws embedded themselves into the wood. They could all hear it. The rapid pounding of his heart. The stench of doubt and fear was so heavy it felt like they were drowning in it. 

“No,” Derek finally said, the answer hanging in the air like a death sentence, “I’m not giving Stiles the bite.”

A beat of silence. A sigh of relief and a disbelieving uproar.

“Get out,” Derek growled, stopping the buzzing arguments flying across the room like venom. When no one moved he pinned them with a commanding, crimson look, “I said get out.”

The pack slowly dispersed around him. Scott was the only one brave enough to reach out, a hand on Derek’s shoulder, a small, but sad smile curling against his lips, “Thank you, I know it’s the right decision.”

Derek gave a curt nod in return. He was surprised to see Peter still sitting on the staircase long after the others had gone. The look of disappointment etched in his uncle’s face made him feel inexplicably angry. Peter always had a knack for reducing him to a fifteen year old boy who didn’t know how to control his shift during the full moon.

“What?” He chewed out when Peter remained quiet.

“I didn’t say anything,” Peter replied, but he could hear the bitter bite beneath his uncle's words, the desire to start a fight.

“I’m not giving Stiles the bite,” Derek said again. He suddenly felt the need to defend himself as his uncle chuckled darkly.

“I heard you the first time, nephew,” Peter sneered.

“You don’t agree with my decision,” Derek pointed out flatly.

“Well, clearly,” Peter said as he got to his feet, “as I voted yes.” He sighed, brushing past Derek to head into the kitchen, “But you are the alpha, so I don’t think it matters what the rest of us wanted.” 

Derek could hear the older man clinking through the glasses, the sound of liquid sloshing against emptiness before a bottle was carefully placed on the counter. Derek allowed his gaze to find his uncle leaning against the counter, slowly sipping from his nearly full glass.

“It was cute to let them think this was a democracy, though.” Peter added after a moment, swirling a few ice cubes into his drink.

“Stiles doesn’t want the bite,” Derek explained, that primal urge for someone to understand, “he never has.”

“You think your decision is about Stiles?” Peter asked, smiling meanly, “Here I thought it was about you.”

“Of course it’s about Stiles,” Derek huffed furiously, “you think he would be grateful if he woke up and was su—”

“Well,” Peter cut in, “it’s better than never waking up at all, isn’t it?”

Derek remained silent. But his face said it all.

“He’s been in this coma for what, two weeks now?” Peter asked as he sat his glass down, moving towards Derek with calculated steps, “You still think he’s going to magically wake up by some divine intervention?”

“I am not taking that choice away from him.” Derek argued, his chest heaving as he worked to keep himself calm.

“Are you scared he’s going to hate you if you do?” Peter asked, inching closer. “Or scared he won’t survive like Paige?”

“Why do you care so much?” Derek asked, feeling like he’d been thrown off balance.

“I’m just trying to understand why you wouldn’t do everything to save the person you love,” Peter replied simply, but there was an undercurrent of harshness to his tone.

“I am doing everything to save him!” Derek snapped, teeth bared and eyes flashing dangerously. “You and I both know Stiles wouldn’t want the bite to save him.”

There was heated silence between the Hales. Ice blue boring into grey-green. 

“Stop making excuses, Derek.” Peter said, breathing out harshly through his nose, “It’s the only way to—”

“My answer is final,” Derek growled before turning on his heel to head back to the hospital.

“So,” Peter called at his retreating back, voice trembling with anger and saturated in sorrow, “you’re just going to let the last piece of Claudia Stilinski die in this god forsaken town?”

Derek froze. The stench of love lost burned hotly in his lungs. He swallowed down the sour taste of bile as he turned to face his uncle again. “Is that what this is about?” He asked quietly, “Preserving the only thing left of Claudia Stilinski?”

“You know it’s more than that,” Peter bit back.

“Is that why you offered Stiles the bite all those years ago?” Derek felt exhausted, like the revelation took more out of him than he could ever care to admit. “Because you took one look at him and saw someone that was never yours?”

“Talia could have saved her,” Peter’s voice was small now, his eyes far off in the distance, “but we can’t always get what we want.” His eyes were hard on Derek’s face now, a sneer pulling his lips up cruelly, “So, yeah, I looked into those amber eyes and saw the one person I would have done anything for.” He exhaled deeply, “Stiles is all that’s left of Claudia.”

“Stiles is his own person,” Derek replied softly, “and he should get to choose. You wanted to save Claudia by giving her the bite, but I’m going to save Stiles by keeping him human.”

“I wonder which version of losing him is going to hurt more,” Peter said with a vindictive smile, but Derek could see that his eyes were sad. 

Derek didn’t say anything as he turned to leave Peter alone in the loft.

-

“Miss me, Sourwolf?” Stiles slurred, his half lidded eyes peeking up at the exhausted wolf with a mix of fondness and concern.

“More than you know,” Derek replied, threading his fingers through the cold, pale ones, before bringing them to his lips to gently kiss.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” Stiles hummed, closing his eyes, until Derek’s too tight grip made him blink them open again.

“Sorry,” Derek replied sheepishly, “I just missed the color of your eyes.”

Stiles smiled, “You mean the most boring shade of brown?”

Derek shook his head, not knowing how he could explain that Stiles’ eyes reminded him of bottle honey. Warm and sticky sweet. Of coffee with too much cream or tiger’s eye gleaming in the sunlight. How could Derek describe that Stiles’ eyes were the shade of the earth beneath his feet when he ran through the preserve under the light of the full moon? When he catches Peter watching them from the doorway, face soft and shoulders sagging in relief he wonders if he could ever tell Stiles that the beautiful shade of amber was a window to a future that was stolen much too soon.

“Not to me,” Derek just says instead, leaning up to kiss him, “not to me.”

[butmakeitgayblog]

City of Angels: Just a Little Doped Up

Also available on AO3

///////////////////

Lexa ached seeing her wife in pain.

Ached.

The weeks leading up to the big day had left Lexa feeling emotionally drained; a jittery ball of nerves bouncing from one room of their apartment to the next, testing out any and every remedy she could come up with to alleviate her wife's discomfort. Weeding through half-hearted protests of, "I'm fine," and diligently argued pleas of, "I'll do it later," Lexa clawed, begged, borrowed, and stole her way to this particular finish line.

After a month of grumbled fights and empty threats of a contentious divorce if Clarke didn't stop rescheduling, Lexa could only manage a haphazard sigh at being on the receiving end of her wife's icy glare when they'd finally led her away.

Because Clarke had eventually agreed to the procedure, albeit with an air of begrudging resignation, having spent the days leading up to the appointment grumpily preparing Lexa for what to expect.

And she thought she did know what to expect. Lexa had fully anticipated the swollen cheeks and glazed eyes that greeted her when the nurse had called her back. She'd expected the blood tinted dribble of drool that leaked from the lax hang of her wife's mouth. Even the wobbly chin and glistening sheen of tears upon seeing her again didn't lead Lexa to think a single thing was amiss.

But this?

She certainly hadn't anticipated this.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Pardon?" Lexa mumbled in return as she continued to read through the clipboard in her hands, a sigh escaping her at the fifth question in a row.

"I thaaaid," Clarke pushed out with a glassy roll of her eyes, "who the hell is that?"

Slowly dragging her eyes up for a moment Lexa flashed a pleading, yet overly-saccharine, look of love at her wife.

"Clarke?" she said as sweetly as she could manage.

"Hu?"

"Shhh. Just for a little bit, okay?"

Lexa watched an affronted frown pull at her wife's lips, cheeks stuffed with enough gauze to render any threat from the look quite moot. Shooting the disgruntled love of her life another smile, Lexa turned back to the discharge sheet she'd been attempting to fill out.

"Is she always this… lively?"

A cough of laughter jumped from Lexa's chest as she dotted the final 'i' in her last name. Handing the clipboard back to the waiting nurse, Lexa grinned over at the woman now fighting through a series of torturous looking blinks.

"You have no idea," she whispered. "But this is rare form, for sure. You'd think a doctor would-"

"Oh no," the nurse, Monroe, interrupted, shaking her head ruefully as she moved to slip the clipboard in its holder. "Doctors make the worst patients. If they're not pulling the MD card on you, they--"

"Heeey you. C'mere."

"-- Act like a fool?" Lexa finished for her, tossing an exasperated look toward the caregiver in charge.

Turning to the sound of her wife's call, Lexa had to swallow the urge to laugh. Despite Clarke's best attempt at what Lexa knew to be her sultry voice of seduction, the growing puddle of spittle escaping the loose sling of her mouth was enough to kill any hope of that particular mood.

"Yes, my love?" she soothed anyway, rolling the wheeled stool she sat on over to catch her wife's searching hand. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Clarke hummed, her words sticky, and slow, and slurred. "There's thit in my mouf."

"It's gauze, sweetheart," Lexa said, leaning down to press the whisper of a kiss to the swollen curve of Clarke's jaw. "You had your wisdom teeth taken out."

"They took my teef?!"

Seeing the flash of indignant anger in Clarke's eyes, Lexa immediately moved to intercept Clarke's free hand that had sluggishly tried, and failed, to fly up to her mouth.

"You asked them to, remember? They were hurting you."

Clarke shook her head, her eyes turning watery along with her words. "I wouldn't do that."

"I promise ya, hun," the nurse chuckled as she moved to Clarke's other side. "You did."

"But I hate doctorth."

"Amen, sister," Monroe hummed as she took Clarke's wrist and did a final check of her vitals.

Lexa watched as Clarke's eyes seemed to spin in their sockets for a moment before landing on her again, a smile blooming on Lexa's lips at her wife's adorable befuddlement.

"I lub you," Clarke slurred with doe-eyed conviction, picking her head up just to have it fall back a second later. Letting her wandering gaze loop around to her opposite side, baby-blues turned to the nurse instead. "I lub her, ya know."

"I should hope so," the nurse grinned as she placed Clarke's hand back down. "Otherwise the whole marriage thing would be kinda awkward."

"Yeah," Clarke said in a lazy sigh. "That'd be weird… Like we were straight--."

"Okay, Clarke," Lexa tried, shooting Monroe an apologetic smile. "Why don't we just-"

"But I'm in lub with her," she rolled on, pausing for a moment to noisily smack her obviously numb lips. "She's an angel, ya know?"

"She seems like it."

"No. No," Clarke shook her head defiantly. "You don't get it."

Releasing a nervous laugh, Lexa squeezed the hand in her grip in warning. "Clarke--"

"She's an angel. Like with the flappy wingth one. A halo and… 'N a harp, I think. Birkenstockth."

"Well those are certainly all words," Monroe smiled down at the babbling patient.

"She fell down a cliff to lub me," Clarke crooned in high-pitched broken words, her lip starting to tremble again with emotion.

Running a soothing hand through blonde hair, Lexa shook her head at the nurse holding back laughter as she stood to lean over her doped-up wife. "Clarke, sweetheart, shhhh, okay? We're gonna be going home in a minute, so just rest. If you talk too much, the swelling will be worse."

"Thee, look," Clarke said, ignoring Lexa entirely as she flopped a hand in the general direction of Lexa's face. "She's still got a lil thcar on her eye... I kith it when she's thleeping."

Head rolling back towards the nurse, Clarke looked up with a deadpan warning.

"Don't tell her that though."

"It'll be our little secret," Monroe winked before moving toward the door. "Okay, Mrs. Griffin, I'm gonna go get you the rest of your aftercare info and a wheelchair, and then you can get this one home."

Lexa breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Thanks, Monroe."

"No problem, just sit tight."

The door clicked shut as the woman left, Lexa taking her seat again to fire off a text to Raven to let her know they'd be done soon. A hush fell over the room as she slid her phone back into her pocket before lifting her head… and seeing her wife glaring daggers at the closed door.

"What?"

Blue eyes rolled to her with what Lexa supposed could be defined as righteous indignation.

"I think that bith was flirtin' with me."

"Clarke," Lexa gasped and her mouth dropped open. "Do not call her that."

"She got all winky with me," Clarke argued, mimicking the move by seductively winking with both eyes. "I know what that meansth."

"Sweetheart, she was not flirting with you."

"She's trying to busth up a happy home. Make me get a divorce."

"She wasn't. She just thought you were being goofy."

"I'm not goofy… You're goofy."

Lexa simply sighed. "I am goofy, you're right."

"I know," Clarke nodded as Lexa tucked back a wayward curl behind Clarke's ear. "... 'N fuckin' 'winky' out there-"

"Clarke, stop."

"You tell her to sthop," Clarke frowned. "I'm married and she nid- no- needs to knock it off."

"I'll tell her that, okay?"

Clarke merely sighed, head falling to the side as stared over at Lexa through several slow blinks. "I can't feel my lipth."

"They're still there. Pretty as ever."

"I think they took my tongue away."

"I hope not. Definitely need that for later."

Clarke perked up at that.

"Are we gonna have thex later?"

"No," Lexa chuckled. "You're high as a kite, love. And you're going to be in a lot of pain in just a little bit, so I think it's gonna be a while before-"

Her words cut off as Clarke's bottom lips scrunched together, eyes filling with tears yet again.

"Oh, don't cry," Lexa hushed through a laugh as she scooted closer, carefully cradling her wife's face in her palms. She swept the pad of her thumb along the delicate row of lashes, collecting the dewy droplets before they could fall.

"You don't wanna have thex with me anymore," Clarke sniffled.

"I always want to have sex with you, Clarke," Lexa assured with a smile, rolling her eyes at the entire trainwreck of a conversation. "But you just had surgery, so for now you have to heal first."

"... Heal first?"

"Yes," Lexa nodded definitively. "Heal first, then sex. I promise."

Clarke seemed to debate the matter for a moment, her eyes shifting in and out of focus as Lexa ran fingers through the tendrils of her hair.

"Okay," Clarke finally conceded, giving a lazy shrug of her shoulder as all traces of sadness suddenly vanished from her face.

Lexa snorted as she pulled back, glad to have seemingly navigated that particular minefield successfully. A quiet knock on the door pulled her attention away as the door eased open and Monroe walked backward into the room.

"Alright, Clarke," she announced, pivoting around to pull a wheelchair up to the side of the recovery chair. "Your chariot awaits, m'lady."

"Oh look, winky'th back. Mleeeh."

Monroe's face pulled to the side in confusion, her gaze darting to Lexa who could only close her eyes and shake her head in answer. Biting her lips to seemingly hold back an amused response, the nurse gave a tiny nod of understanding as she moved to help the patient currently losing a battle with a blanket.

"Alrighty. Anyway. Ready to head home, Mrs. Griffin?"

"Griffin-Woodth," Clarke immediately groaned as she lumbered to her feet, one arm hooked through Lexa's while the other elbowed the nurse away. "We're a team."

Monroe lifted her hands up in surrender when Lexa grunted against Clarke's struggling and gave up on their coaxing method of transport, instead moving to wrap an arm around Clarke's waist to bodily shuffle her into the wheelchair. Easing her wife down in the seat, Lexa dodged a sloppy kiss aimed at her cheek.

"Hang on, sweetheart, you're bleeding again," she rushed out before Clarke could become emotionally unglued at her rebuff, mechanically moving to ransack the sterile tray still off to the side to grab a few fresh bundles of gauze.

Squatting down, Lexa tipped Clarke's head forward by her chin, thanking everything holy when her wife let her mouth fall open at her urging. Swapping out the soaked gauze for fresh ones and escaping unscathed from the teasing nip of teeth at her fingers, Lexa tenderly wiped Clarke's chin clean before tossing the rolls in the biohazard bin and moving to wash her hands.

"Well at least we know she's all set for home aftercare," Monroe said with a grin as Lexa shook her hands off and wiped them dry on a few paper towels.

Ears pinking at the statement, Lexa ditched the towels in the bin as well and made her way back over. "Yeah, sorry. Force of habit. Working inside of a hospital and being married to a doctor for four years, you just kinda get used to it."

"A lot of spouses can be a little put-off by the blood and drool."

"She drools when she sleeps anyway," Lexa shrugged, gathering up the paperwork they needed and stuffing them inside Clarke's purse. Placing the bag over her shoulder, Lexa leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her wife's forehead. "You ready to go home, love?"

"Mhmmmm," Clarke hummed with a dopey bob of her head.

Lexa held the door open as the nurse started wheeling Clarke out, her eyes doing a scan of the room to make sure they had everything. A quick jog let her catch up to the pair as they neared the patient checkout, Clarke babbling Monroe's ear off the entire way.

"Hey, sexy," a voice shouted as the doors of the clinic slid open. "Get your fine ass over here."

Lexa smiled at the call as she looked up from the soggy flow of words her wife was directing at seemingly no one in particular.

"Wabeeeen," Clarke called back in a throaty haze of excitement, her head and hand not holding an ice-pack wobbling back and forth in a bizarre kind of drugged-up celebration dance. "Baby, Waben's here."

"I know," Lexa said as Monroe wheeled them toward the SUV parked by the curb. "She drove us here. And now she's gonna give us a ride home, remember?"

"That'th nice of her... She's tho nice," Clarke sniffled as they pulled to a stop. Lexa could barely hold back a sputter of laughter at that, giving Clarke a conciliatory nod.

"Sure she is. We'll go with that."

"Jesus, Griff, what'd they do to you?"

Lexa's head snapped up to level their friend with a warning glare after blue eyes turned to her and started welling up all over again.

"Because ya look great!" Raven very expertly added, pulling her lips back in apology before spinning around toward her car and opening the door. "Okay, let's get you up and in, princess. Chop chop."

Scoffing at that pathetic display, Lexa pulled the purse off of her shoulder and shoved it in Raven's general direction as she rounded to the front of the wheelchair.

"You ready to get in, love?" she asked as she squatted down in front of her wife. "Me and Monroe are gonna help, okay?"

"No."

"Clarke--"

"I can walk mythelf."

"Let us help."

"You really shouldn't walk by yourself, Mrs. Griffin."

Clarke scowled at the nurse, a mumbled "Griffin-Woodth" floating between them as Lexa straightened back up.

"Don't make me do it, Clarke."

Blue eyes swung back around to her, a defiant glint coloring them… once they'd stopped rolling in Clarke's head.

"You're gonna be mad at yourself later," Lexa reminded. She waited a long moment as her wife stubbornly stared back. Shoulders slumping in defeat, Lexa stepped aside with a sigh and nodded toward the car.

Raven smiled and shook her head as she raised a knuckle and rapped twice on the darkened window.

"You owe me five bucks, Woods," Raven said as the door popped open.

"Yeah, yeah," Lexa frowned and shuffled aside to make room. "Excuse me for siding with my wife."

"Well in all fairness, it was a really dumb bet."

"Thank you," Lexa drawled as her friend stepped out.

Anya only shrugged as she closed the door behind her. Stepping to the wheelchair, she pulled up the sleeves of her long black coat and smirked down. "So we meet again, Clarke."

"Anya!" Clarke cheered, throwing her hand up to awkwardly pat the woman on the arm. Twisting around to look at the nurse behind her, Clarke hushed her voice and added, "She's an angel too, ya know?"

"Is that right?"

"Mhm. Our guard- our garden- our gardenia angel. But she kinda thucks at it. Don't tell her I thaid that though."

Anya's spine snapped to attention at the words, her glare darting between Lexa and the nurse eyeing the strangeness of her thick, dark outfit in the middle of L.A. heat with curiosity. Letting out a nervous chuckle, Lexa minutely shook her head and grabbed Clarke's hand to get her attention.

"Yes, sweetheart, everyone here's an angel. Let's get you in the car now, 'kay?"

"Yes," Monroe said as she seemed to blink herself out of whatever thoughts she'd been having, instead walking to the side of the wheelchair and flipping on the breaks. "Time to go, Mrs. Griffin… Woods. Griffin-Woods," she tacked on at the narrowing of Clarke's eyes before glancing up at the woman across from her. "You wanna grab that side?"

"Don't worry about it, just step back," Raven said as she helped Lexa guide the nurse up and away. "It'll be easier this way 'cause grouchy ass likes to fight anyone helping her."

With that, Anya crouched down and slid one arm beneath the bend of Clarke's knees, the other snaking between her arm and waist to wrap around her back.

"Up we go," Anya murmured and lifted Clarke out of the seat, ignoring the lazy protests from her passenger as she kicked aside the wheelchair with ease. Monroe grappled to grab and right the seat as Lexa refused to look at her, instead letting her head fall into her hand at the entire display.

Raven opened the backseat door as wide as it would go when Anya stepped forward.

"Clarke, tuck your head into me like you do Lexa," Anya said as she bent to scoot the woman through the door of the car, only to yank back a moment later with a garbled yell of disgust. "Not like that!"

"Anya--"

"She licked me!"

"You thaid like Lexa."

"Why did I agree to not film this?" Raven groaned and flopped back against the side of the car.

"Can we please get this shit show on the road," Lexa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took control of the chaos and began rattling off instructions. "Clarke, no licking. Anya, just get her in the car. Raven, you agreed because your friend, my wife, is a very well-respected doctor and teacher, and having a video of her licking a random woman's neck wouldn't be great for her career. Now, go start the car. Monroe… I don't even know. Thank you? And I'm sorry about all of this."

The nurse simply smiled as she reached down to unlock the wheels again and looped around back toward the clinic. "Don't worry about it. Happens more often than you'd think. She'll be out of it for a bit, but just roll with it. Keep everything clean, read the aftercare instructions, and call if you have any questions."

Exchanging a final nod of goodbye, the nurse left the group and went back inside.

"Okay, put her in, Ahn. I'll meet you on the other side."

With a disgruntled huff, Anya gave the woman in her arms another wary glance and moved to settle her into the backseat. Lexa rushed around the back of the SUV and flung the door open, slipping in and across the bench seat in the back as Anya leaned in and set Clarke down.

"Hey, Clarke? I'm gonna buckle you in now," Lexa said as she accepted the seat belt clasp Anya stretched out for her.

Clarke glared between the two of them, her hands swatting at her sides. "I'm not a child. I can do it mythelf."

"You just licked Anya's neck in the middle of a parking lot," Raven pointed out as she started the engine. "And that was after you told a random stranger that she's a whole ass angel."

"Yeah, she told her I was one inside as well," Lexa said as she clicked the buckle in place.

"Hence why we're not exactly trusting you or your motor functions right now, babe."

"But she is an angel. You are an angel," Clarke hummed, sending a hazy look of adoration to her wife while Lexa draped a blanket over her lap. "You're my angel."

"Say angel again," Raven snorted and slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

"... Sure doesn't fuck like an angel though."

"Ew, no!" Anya thundered and flung herself backward out of the door frame, dramatically heaving twice before slamming the door shut hard enough to rock the entire car.

"Clarke," Lexa hissed as her wife continued to leer.

"Huh?"

Anya grunted as she whipped the front door open and climbed in. "Why did I agree to come to this?"

Clarke's lips pooched as she sent a very wet sounding smooch in Lexa's direction. "Don't be mad, baby. I like that you're nasty in bed."

"Oh my G-- Lexa, will you please muzzle her. No one wants to hear this."

"Speak for yourself," Raven gleefully cut in as she started to pull away. "Get it, Griff! Tell us the really freaky shit."

"She lets me--"

"Clarke!" Lexa yelled while leaning forward to get her attention. Glazed eyes blinked at her in slow passes as a pout spread across Clarke's face. Sighing when she was sure she had her wife's attention, Lexa reached up and tugged a curl of blonde behind her ear. "... I promise you, whatever it was you wanted to say just now, you would wholeheartedly regret saying it later. Especially to Raven."

"That's fair actually," Raven called back as she moved them through midmorning traffic.

Clarke shifted to reach for Lexa's hand, assuring her in what Lexa supposed could be a valiant attempt at a whisper. "Don't worry, baby. I wasn't gonna tell 'em about the butt stuff."

Eyes sliding closed as a chorus of retching mingled with cackling laughter from the front seat, Lexa sat back in her seat and ran a hand through her hair.

"Not a word."

"I'm not saying anything," Raven choked out through the dying rolls of her laughter.

The car fell quiet as they drove, Lexa looking out the window and letting her mind drift. She watched the cars and hills of the outskirts of L.A. fly past as they wound their way home. Despite… well, everything, she was glad this was finally over; the final expense officially checked off of their list of 'to-do's'. She idly tapped her fingers on the leather of her seat and admired the green hillsides, smiling to herself as she thought of what came next.

They hadn't told anyone when they'd made the decision to start looking through private listings, Lexa having sworn Anya to secrecy until they'd figured out an actual plan. She wondered if she'd miss the familiar drive to their apartment, the only home she'd truly known on Earth. She was excited, if not a little nervous, but ready to take the next step with the… absolute mess of a woman beside her.

Letting her head lull back over to check on her patient, Lexa startled a bit to find watery, blue eyes already staring back.

"What's the matter?" she hushed in a soft and concerned voice, scooting closer as she reached up to brush away a rogue tear.

"You're really hot... And tho pretty."

Rolling her eyes at the dreamy words, Lexa grinned back. "Not as pretty as you."

"My wife'th gonna be tho mad at me," Clarke whined and shook her head.

"... Why is your wife going to be mad at you?" she asked with a quirk of her brow.

"'Cause I think you're really hot," Clarke confessed through a fresh wave of tears.

"Seriously can you like, knock her out or something?"

"Shut up, Anya," Lexa said as she scooted the remaining distance between them. "Clarke, darling, I promise, your wife won't be mad at you for thinking I'm hot."

"How do you know?"

"Because she's your wife, genius," Anya drawled. "I still can't believe they trust that woman with human lives."

"You're just a little doped up right now," Lexa soothed even as reached out to flick her friend on the ear. "Don't worry though, I'll take care of everything. You just relax."

Clarke blinked owlishly at her for a minute, Lexa clearly able to see the cogs grinding to life through the fog of the drugs. She smiled and nodded as Clarke's face suddenly lit up, eyebrows shooting upward as her mouth dropped open.

"Oh yeah," Clarke beamed, her head wobbling back and forth as she flopped around a little in her seat. "That is you, innit. I forgot, ha. That'th crazy."

"It is."

"Man, I am high."

"You are."

"You should kith me."

"I should not."

Lexa nearly groaned as soon as the words left her mouth.

Clarke's face fell into a devastated frown, her lip trembling as her head fell to her shoulder. "You don't wanna kith me."

"Clarke, no, that's not it--"

"I knew it. I'm tho ugly now you won't kith me anymore."

"Oh my God, stop. Just, hang on," Lexa huffed. "Raven, do you have napkins or Kleenex in here? Anything?"

She waited as Anya rifled through the glovebox, accepting the fistful of napkins along with a deep look of disdain when she passed them back. Gently cradling her wife's chin, Lexa tilted her face back up.

"I'm gonna make you a deal," she murmured as she dabbed away as much blood and spit from Clarke's lips as she could. "I will kiss you. But. You have to let me kiss you. You just sit there, okay?"

Clarke bobbed her head in a tiny nod, Lexa's heart squeezing tight at the sad but hopeful face still cradled in her palm. Once she deemed those lips as clean as she could ever hope for given the situation, Lexa tossed the soiled napkins into the seat beside her.

Bringing her other hand up, Lexa held her wife's face between her palms, a smile spreading over her lips as she took in the sight of her. The sight of laugh lines that had begun reaching out from the corners of baby blues, their recent appearance reminding Lexa how happy their life together had proven to be. She admired the few twists of grey that weaved in and out of silken blonde, the effect of them making the woman look all the more distinguished.

Running her thumbs over the apples of delicate cheekbones, Lexa leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to her wife's lips. She hummed at the familiar feeling, soft and sweet as ever, her movements steady and light so as to not cause any pain. Pulling away, she left a last peck on Clarke's upper lip, forever a slave to sealing the little beauty mark with a kiss.

"Better?" she whispered as she watched Clarke's eyes flutter back open.

Clarke was quiet as she stared back, a long moment passing before she heaved a defeated sigh.

"I couldn't feel it."

Lexa did her best to bite back a snort of laughter, head dropping forward as her chest shook with the effort. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll kiss you plenty to make up for it when you feel better, I promise."

"We're here, lovebirds," Raven announced as she pulled to a stop outside of their apartment building. Lexa squeezed her shoulder over the top of the seat in thanks as she reached for the handle. "I'm gonna stay here so my lazy ass doesn't have to find a place to park, but I'm gonna call you guys later, okay?"

Grunting in acceptance as she opened her door, Lexa hopped out and ran around the back of the car to meet Anya on the other side. A few petulant protests and a very one sided bartering war later, Lexa pressed the button to shut the doors of the elevator in their building.

Sighing as she all but collapsed back against the rail of the elevator, Lexa reached out a hand to nudge her friend's shoulder.

"Thanks again, Ahn."

"Yeah, whatever," Anya grumbled, adjusting her grip on the woman sagged at her side.

If Lexa had had the energy she would've laughed at the pair of them, knowing full well Anya was supporting every inch of the woman's weight despite Clarke's staunch insistence that she could walk.

She reminded herself that her wife's stubbornness was part of why she loved her.

"Okay, here we go," Lexa rallied as the doors slid open on their floor. "Last stretch, love, and then you can rest."

"I wanna make nachos."

"Yeah, we'll have to see about that," Lexa shook her head as she jogged ahead to unlock the door, holding it open as Anya all but dragged Clarke through the entrance of their apartment.

"Where should I put her?"

"Bedroom."

"No," Clarke said with enough ferocity it startled the pair, taking Anya particularly by surprise when she elbowed her way out of the hold and launched herself toward the couch.

Lexa felt her heart jump up into her throat as Clarke nosedived toward the cushions, landing face first into the set of pillows.

"Clarke!" she yelped, darting around the couch and crouching over her. Biting back a twitch of annoyance, Lexa pulled the woman upward and helped her flip over. "Jesus, you have got to be more careful. You could've really hurt yourself."

"I'm fine, baby," Clarke slurred, glassy eyes shining behind the low droop of her lids. "I don't feel anything. You could punch me right in the mouf and I'd be fine."

"I'm not going to punch you."

"I might."

"Goodbye, Anya. Thank you for helping," Lexa blindly called over her shoulder, "but you can go now. Raven's waiting."

"Right, right, right," Anya said, rapping a knuckle on the wall as she turned to go. "I'll leave you to take care of the little missus. Call if you need anything. Feel better, doc."

"Byeeeeeeeeee," Clarke sing-songed out to her before the door closed, shimmying in place as Lexa helped her adjust on to her back. "She's gonna go makeout with Waben."

"What else is new," Lexa grinned and pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch.

Lexa moved to take off Clarke's shoes and socks, leaning down to peck a quick kiss to the wiggly toes before tucking them under the blanket as well. After placing the shoes in their home along the front hall of their apartment, she moved to ditch the balled up socks in the laundry despite the disgruntled yowl from the plump feline stationed on top of their washer.

The jingle of Penny's collar followed her as she went about collecting the supplies listed on the aftercare sheet, piling a tiny tray up with gauze squares, water, pain medicine, and snacks.

"That'd not nachoth," Clarke said with a sleepy grump of a frown as Lexa laid the tray on the coffee table beside her.

"Not nachos. No crunchy stuff, unfortunately. Doctor's orders. But may I offer you a bowl of our finest applesauce?"

"This is bullthit."

"I know."

"You did this to me, and I'll neber forgib you."

"I know."

"Will you cuddle wif me?"

Smiling down at her wife, Lexa simply nodded and quickly tied her back into a ponytail.

"Scooch," she hummed, toeing off her shoes before gingerly climbing over to the opposite side. Lowering herself as gently as possible, Lexa fit herself into the snug space between her wife and the back of their couch. She wriggled down enough to make sure she was safe from knocking into the already swollen jaw.

"Better?" Lexa whispered as she rested her head on Clarke's chest and draped an arm around her waist.

"Mhm," Clarke said, the drowsy weight of her hum sounding peaceful and warm.

"You can't sleep with those things in your mouth."

"Not thleepin'."

Giving up that fight before it could start and deciding she'd just slip them out once the woman dozed off, Lexa snuggled in deeper, breathing in calming lungfuls of her wife's scent.

The day had been insane, which after four years of marriage she was generally used to, but overall Lexa couldn't help but pat herself on the back. She knew when the medicine started to wear off they'd both be in a world of pain, but for now, she let herself relax into the peace of the moment.

Which was promptly broken by the faint buzz of Clarke's phone.

Sighing in annoyance, Lexa dug her hand under the blanket and into Clarke's pocket to pull it out. She thumbed in the passcode, muscle memory having her click 1203 for their anniversary without a thought, and tapped to open the notification.

Asshole (11:42 a.m.): so... you're gonna tell me about that butt stuff thing later right?

"For fuck's sake, Raven." With a disgusted sigh, Lexa closed out the message and slapped the phone on the table.

Snuggling back into the snoozing body beneath her, Lexa decided she'd just have to deal with that later.

[strabbyshortcake]

champy’s charhouse

Gramble and Boots meet for the first time.

tw for mild violence.

Champy’s Charhouse sat smack dab in the middle of a whole lot of nothing, along a lone strip of highway that ran east to west through vast cornfields and strips of forest and swampland. True to its name, the steak was always overdone, but the potato skins were to die for.

Gramble usually went with one or more of his housemates, but Wambus was tired, Triffany was busy with grading papers, Yosie had a cage match tonight and Bronica had plans with her girlfriend already. That was alright, though. Gramble could have a good time on his own.

He borrows Triffany’s car, pulling up in the dusty parking lot as the sun’s about to set. The parking lot is already full of various mud-splattered beaters and pickups, many of which he recognizes. Funny that he could think of himself as a local now and feel a hit of pride about it. The bright orange neon sign buzzes above his head as he walks in, heading right for the bar to find a seat with a good view of the stage. True to form the place smells like burnt meat, but even as a vegetarian, it’s a comforting smell, mixed in with sweaty fur and soil and beer.

Triffany had gotten him into one of her favorite rock bands, the Velvet Knives, so he’d borrowed one of her old band tees to wear for the sets some of the local bands were playing tonight. He settles in, orders his potato skins and a coke, and watches as the first band gets their equipment set up. Once the music starts, everybody seems to be having a great time, clapping or singing along. That is, until the front row starts getting restless.

“This sucks!” calls a bright orange grumpus from the bar several seats down. His buddies laugh, a few of them hurling their own insults to the irritation of the other patrons. Several of them wear jackets with the letters of a nearby college fraternity on them. Rowdy college kids were nothing out of the ordinary though. Gramble was sure they’d be kicked out if they kept on heckling.

The band, in good humor, plays on, finishing their song before the singer decides to address them. “Sounds like we got a couple ornery hogs in the audience,” she says, grinning, showing her fangs. “Well, ain’t nobody keepin’ you here. If you go on squealin’, someone’s liable to shut you up.”

One of the frat kids hurls a bottle. It smashes against the back wall of the stage.

“Hey, now!” the band’s drummer calls, ducking. “C’mon, there’s no need for that!”

The grumpus next to Gramble, who seemed to be a part of that group, grabs his own bottle and starts to move his arm back. Gramble grabs him by the wrist, using his other hand to yank the bottle out of the other grump’s paw. “Cut it out!” he tells them, baring his own teeth. Out the corner of his eye he can see the two coolers the bar employed moving toward the bar. They’re both big, but so are the frat kids…

The guy he’d grabbed snarls, ripping his arm out of Gramble’s hold. He’s got golden fur, and two sets of slightly-crooked fangs. “You want me to throw you instead, pipsqueak?”

“You wanna lose a hand?” Gramble snaps in return. “Quit actin’ like you were raised by raccoons, you goddamn fool!”

He hears glass shatter as one of the other frat kids jumps off their stool, swinging a paw at the cooler who’d reached him. The rest of them seem to take this as a sign to do the same, converging on the coolers with teeth and claws bared. However, Gramble doesn’t see what happens next as the grumpus next to him grabs him under the arms and slams him onto the bar. Gramble yelps, coughing as the wind is knocked out of him.

“You hicks take everything too personal, you know that?” The frat kid growls, looming over Gramble. “Ain’t even worth it to bite you. I’d probably get some kinda disease.”

Gramble kicks him in the chest. He grunts and staggers a little, enough to give Gramble a second to sit up, only for the frat kid to come back and punch him directly in the nose. Gramble sees stars, reeling and nearly tumbling off the bar, digging his claws into the marked wood of the counter to keep himself from falling. Blood dribbles from his nose and lip, bitter and metallic. Hopefully the jerk had cut his knuckles on one of Gramble’s teeth.

Still dizzy from the punch, he feels strong hands seize him by the shoulders and twists around, blindly snapping his jaws shut over frat kid’s arm. The frat kid curses, grabbing Gramble by the neck with his free hand. He digs his claws into the thick ruff surrounding it, either to try and yank Gramble’s jaws off or strangle him. Gramble had let his fur grow long and shaggy around his neck and shoulders and it thankfully keeps those claws from getting in too deep.

“Asshole! You’re gonna wreck my jacket!” he hears the frat kid cry as they struggle together. Maybe, Gramble thinks, he should have thought of that before starting a bar fight. In the darkness of the roadhouse he can see the other kids still embroiled in a brawl with the coolers and several of the other patrons, though it’s impossible to tell who’s on what side by now. Nothing he can see but a lot of flying fur and flashing fangs under the neon lights. He shoves the frat kid’s arm away from his neck, wincing as those claws tear some of his fur out.

A building roar from outside catches the attention of some of the patrons, who extract themselves from the brawl and look towards the door. It’s the guttural growl of a motorcycle, a huge one from the sound, drawing closer until it stops in the parking lot and sputters out. Most of the patrons scurry back to their tables, leaving the frat kids standing by the bar, puzzled and disheveled. The guy holding onto Gramble lets him go so he slides off the bar and falls onto the floor with a thud, knocking one of the stools over.

“What?” he hears one of them grunt.

The doors swing open as another grumpus enters, ducking slightly just to get through the doorway. Even from the other side of the room, Gramble can see she towers head and shoulders above most of the other patrons and is broader by at least half, and these were not small grumpuses. Each thump of her dinner-plate-sized paws on the floor makes the cutlery laid out on the tables jingle musically as she approaches. Her fur is the color of pine needles. The bar lights glint ruby in her eyes.

She frowns down at the frat kids, at their neon orange leader. “Is there a problem, here?” Her voice is a deep, husky growl, the sort you could feel in your ribs. In the bar lights Gramble can see the glimmer of a badge pinned to her leather jacket.

“No problem,” the leader holds his hands up defensively, a cowed smile on his face. She doesn’t even have to bare her own teeth. Her sheer bulk is enough. “We were just havin’ a good time.”

“I know your kind. You’re too stupid to have a good time.” She lashes out, grabbing a fistful of his scruff and dragging him towards the door like a kitten. He briefly tries to struggle before giving up, letting her hurl him out of the roadhouse like a sack of stale hamburger buns. As she turns back to the rest of the group, they sheepishly file out, the one Gramble had bitten clutching his bleeding arm.

“Thank you so much for comin’ by, officer Timberheart,” Gramble hears the bar’s owner (not Champy himself, but his son, Shester) say as he emerges from the office he’d been hiding in. Timberheart, huh, Gramble thinks to himself. So that was her name. It sounds so sturdy. A perfect fit for her.

“Aw, it’s no problem,” Ms. Timberheart tells him. “I was already in the neighborhood.”

“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”

“Maybe next time, but thanks.”

With the commotion now died down, the conversation of the other guests begins to filter back in as everyone takes their seats again, resuming whatever they’d been doing before the fight had started. Gramble starts to pick himself up but stumbles, grabbing for one of the barstools. Maybe he’d been hit harder than he thought…

The noise gets Timberheart’s attention. She turns towards him, picking up the downed stool as she crouches. Even now she towers at least a good two feet over him when he’s standing. He blinks up at her concerned expression. She’s got a very soft face, now that he can see it clearly. Her eyes are big and gentle, her features framed by her thick, fluffy coat. Her nose is even shaped like a heart.

“You alright there?” She asks him. “Looks like they roughed you up good.”

“Ah…” Gramble’s not sure if he’s still reeling from the punch, but his stomach for sure feels knotted up, and he hadn’t even been hit there. “…y-yeah, I’m alright. I tried to stop one of ‘em from throwin’ stuff at the band. He didn’t appreciate it...”

“Good of you to try.” She grabs a handful of napkins from the counter, handing them to him. “Here, get yourself cleaned up. I swear, these out-of-towners think they can just swagger in here like they own the place, cause a ruckus and then leave when things start to get a lil’ too spicy.”

Gramble presses the napkins to his bleeding nose, noting with a twinge of disappointment that she’s got a gold wedding band around one of her fingers. Ah, well. Nothing stopping him from getting to know her. “I dunno how some folks can act like that… Like they were raised by wild animals.”

“That’s a little unkind to wild animals, don’t you think?” She chuckles. “What’s your name? Haven’t seen you around, I don’t think.”

“Oh, it’s… I’m Gramble.” Sniffling, Gramble smiles, hoping there’s no blood still on his teeth. “I guess I’m kinda new in town. Been livin’ here for about a year, now.”

“Gramble? You’re a friend of Wambus and Triff’s, ain’tcha? They said they were entertainin’ some sorta house guest when I saw ‘em a while back. Anyway.” She offers him a massive paw, one he could easily fit both his own in with room to spare. “Name’s Beautricia, but everyone just calls me Boots.”

Gramble accepts the paw, giving it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Boots! I hope I’ll see you around?”

“Oh, you will.” She smiles, showing just a hint of her fangs. “Take care now, Gramble. Enjoy the rest of the show.”

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Remus havung a bad day and being comforted by his Padfoot. Your writing is crazy good! Don’t let anyone (even yourself, think otherwise 🥰

~Notes: You are such a sweetheart Nonny<3<3 Thank you so much and I’m sorry i’m just a whiney lil bitch tbh.... But all the love<3<3<3

.-

227811209

remus has always been the analytical sort. The Marauder who could figure out every facet of success for an impending prank. Someone who always understands the other side of a story and tries to make everyone happy in any argument. The sort of person who prides himself in discerning life in shades of gray. He’s known since he was barely six years old that nothing was ever purely good nor purely evil. Life is a walking contradiction, himself being the epitome of that by simply existing as a sweater clad, vegetarian eating,, former prefect for twenty-eight days out of the month, before the final night where he tears himself limb by limb. That twenty-ninth day where he can barely stand even listening to his favorite Big Band records before the blood thirsty beast lurking just beneath his skin would shred himself to ribbons with vicious claws and wicked teeth and an unkempt fury as the wolf raged against the nearest escape route.

So yes, nothing is ever as daunting as one may believe at first sight. But even that doesn’t bring him any relief as he runs the pads of his fingers against the tattoo branded onto the soft flesh of his neck by a man with meaty hands that were none too gentle and a smarmy disposition that made Remus feel like both a dangerous predator and vulnerable prey.

227811209

“I’m glad you could cover up most of it with your shirt,” his father finally speaks once they’ve walked a block and a half away from the Ministry’s office, hands plunged into his jacket pockets as his eyes stray away from his only son— face a complicated reck of guilt and resentment and despair. And Remus supposes he appreciates his father’s frenzy on his behalf, but he can’t help but ache for his Mam right now. But she would’ve never been allowed to travel all the way to London and enter the headquarters of Wizarding Britain. No, not as a muggle without a lick of magic to be found.

“Maybe I’ll grow out my hair? Look like one of those rock and rollers,” Remus says, voice soaked with sarcasm to hide the hurt embedded into his words.

Lyall laughs with more breath than sound, his grin brittle in the way that looks like it could be blown to dust just by the wrong breeze. “I think you’d end up just looking like your mother even more drastically lad.”

Remus pulls a face, still smarting at a stoned Lily giggling about how much of a pretty boy he is. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Lyall smiles more genuinely now, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close. “This doesn’t change a thing, you know that Remus, don’t you?”

“I— I know Tad.” Remus replies, quiet and measured as he wills back the tears that are threatening to spill out, hugging his dad’s middle and pretending that his declaration rings true.

He eventually detangles himself and nods up at him, and Lyall graciously doesn’t pry, just quirks the corner of his mouth and starts strolling once more.

“You think we should maybe grab some take out before apparating back? I know your Mam has been craving some of those samosas from that Curry shop in Whitecastle.”

“I, erm. I actually promised Sirius I’d spend the rest of the break over at his flat. He wanted to see me afterwards— You know…”

Lyall’s shoulders stiffen for only a breath before relaxing once more, still weary over Sirius and Remus’s subsequent relationship with him. And Remus knows it has to do more with his surname than the fact that he’s another man, but it’s still a tender spot in their relationship. “Ah, I understand. You’ve told your Mam I suppose?”

“Yeah, she’s fine with it. Just wanted me to write her once I got there.”

“Righto, well stay safe won’t you?”

“Course Tad, I’ll be okay.” Remus tells him, as if he’s at all okay to begin with after the spectacle of today. But it seems to be enough for Lyall, because he only smiles that bit wider, and tousles Remus’s caramel colored curls before bidding farewell and leaving with a snap of apparation.

.-

Remus reckons its strange that the moment he wanders up the stairs of Sirius’s Camden Town flat, it’s the first time he’s able to inhale without choking on air all day. Like just the mere thought of being enveloped into Sirius’s strong embrace is enough for him to actually begin feeling better.

Gingerly, he taps his wand against the wards of the flat, the door opening up immediately after recognizing him— The first addition Sirius had incorporated after purchasing it with his Uncle’s vast inheritance to him back in November.

Remus expected that he’d have to floo James’s home once stepping indoors, after all he knows that Sirius is still living their until school ends in June under the behest of the steadfast and nearly smothering Potters who have adored and practically adopted Sirius ever since second year. Though, he admits that he’s crippled with relief when he steps inside only to be met by the great, hulking image of a bear like, black dog lounging by the fire, tale waggling in a sort of despair that makes Remus’s heart ache.

“Pads?” he greets quietly, toeing off his boots before he comes closer. But nearly immediately, Padfoot’s head pops up and his intelligent gray eyes pinpoint on him before he leaps forwards to lick across Remus’s face in hello.

“All right, all right. Down you mutt,” Remus laughs, suddenly so thankful for the horridly green breakfast table that Sirius had refused to get rid of considering that it’s the only reason he doesn’t fall flat on his back over Padfoot’s assault.

And in a sudden, magical haze, dog transforms into a beautiful man— All dark hair that falls artfully over his forehead, and cutting angles meant for Roman sculptures and a body toned after years of Beater swings and practice laps.

He’s so gorgeous that sometimes Remus can hardly even breathe when in close proximity.

“I’ve been waiting,” Sirius explains unnecessarily, arms wrapped around Remus’s narrow waste and his eyes boring into Remus’s own without a seconds hesitation.

“I’m sorry, there was a—“

“No Moony, don’t apologize,” Sirius interrupts, his stormy expression suddenly fading to something softer— something more apologetic. “I’m sorry— I just— I was just worried.”

Remus exhales from his nose, dry and the furthest thing from amused. “Well I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Sirius prods, face indignant.

“As can be I suppose.” Remus clarifies, relishing how Sirius ever so gently presses there bodies together, close enough that there’s no space left  between them, dropping his head to Remus’s shoulder as his lips mouth against his skin in languid kisses. “I feel like I’m cattle,” Remus admits, finally lets the tears that were threatening to spill out earlier, pour from his eyes, and can feel Sirius’s own tracing down his back.

“You’re better than the whole lot of them combined, and if anyone gives you any trouble I’ll kill’m with my bare hands.”

Remus should probably snort at just how full hearty he sounds, or he should probably chastise Sirius for having this incessant need to take on the world for Remus. He should at least thank him for sparing Remus the false platitudes his father tried speaking. But then he feels Sirius’s salty wet lips kissing softly against his skin, against the tattoo marring him. And suddenly it feels like even the ugliest part of him could be made beautiful under Sirius’s touch.

~Send ME A Prompt For A Flash FIC~

[bittybattybunny]

OKAY so here’s the cursed into a dragon story and doodle!!

I wanted to draw the cute knight and the dragon (AKA Ru had an old suit of armor at his brother’s and had no idea the dragon he was asked about was his not GF)

Fic time!! and reminder this idea was suggested by @creepyfuzzymelon​!! It did get a lil long for a ficlet but eh it works! Enjoy!

She paused in front of the red door and brushed her hair behind her ear before she walked in. She sneezed as she walked in, the smell of incense making her nose burn. She frowned as her head began to spin.

“Welcome.” Came the shop keeper’s sing song voice. Her green blue eyes twinkled with mischief as she saw the woman.

“Hello.” Eclipse gave a smile but she wanted to leave. Not wishing to be rude she decided to walk around some before she ran from the over scented store. She looked at the cluttered shop shelves and her eyes landed on an ornate dragon mask. She frowned looking at it. She picked it up and turned it around curiously. There was writing in the back. She squinted trying to read it.

“It says to the wearer their heart will become fierce until the knight calms it.” 

Eclipse jolted, having not even noticed the woman sneaking up behind her. She felt a cold chill as she looked at the woman’s smile as she chuckled.

“Don’t be so skittish dear.” she cooed and took the mask in her hands. Eclipse watched as she spun it around in her hands, producing a ribbon from the air and tying it on. “I wonder what form you would take?”

Eclipse could only gasp as the mask was shoved on her face and she was thrown from the shop.

She blinked a few times. She reached to remove the mask but it wouldn’t come off. In fact the more she tried the firmer it seemed to stick. She struggled and pulled. She felt a burning sensation starting to grow in her chest. She clawed and shoved at the mask. Her body began to contort as she feverishly tried to get the mask off. She gasped as her face felt the cold chill. She grit her teeth as she felt her face ripping at its own seams. Fangs jutting. She roared as her bones grew and rearranged, horns shoving through her skull as she fell to all fours. She clawed the cobblestone sidewalks of the small village as her clothing fell in shreds.

Wisps began to light up as black scales began to grow and cover her body as her newly formed tail lashed around. Large wings caught between bird and moth spread as she panted and slowly the burning subsided. She collapsed on the stone. Her head was heavy. She sighed.

“Way to go Moony. You walked into that one.” she groaned as she lifted her head to look herself over. She lifted a hand and looked at the claws and whined.

“Great.” she moved to stand. At least a dragon was similar in limbs to a wolf so she had that going for her. The wings were a new feature. She lifted one to inspect it and looked around. She had entered the shop in the downtown of Subcon City but. 

Small buildings with no life surrounded the dragon-woman as she walked around. She raised her head to look at the rising moon and huffed. She turned to inspect for her bag among the remains of her clothes but couldn’t find it.

“Guess no phone calls.” she flicked her forked tongue as she jumped on top of one of the buildings. She narrowed her eyes as she saw a church and decided to get a better view.

A wind blew as she climbed up to the steeple and looked over the rolling fields.

She looked at the sky and sighed, “Fierce until the night calms it huh?” she shook her head side to side. “Hopefully this mask comes off soon then.”  she ran off, deciding to enjoy the empty fields in the meanwhile.

------

“A dragon?” Snatcher asked as Kaya gave a frown. She scratched her cheek as he stood in her office.

“Yeah. reports of one in the old ruins of Tir na Nocht.” she sighed, “I put SO MANY BARRIERS!” she puffed her cheek annoyed, “I tried to make sure NOTHING would get into Ti Na Nocht when i left!” she fumed, “And this dragon comes WALTZING IN LIKE SHE OWNS IT!” she stomped her foot, “The worst bit is NO ONE CAN GET NEAR!”

“So what does that have to do with me?” he raised a brow, “You know I’m busy watching the kid since Eclipse is working a job.”

“See that’s the thing!” she frowned, “I thought she was home! I was going to ask HER to do this! She’s fought dragons before! And I would ask Jacob since he’s a dragonborn, but he went off on another mission last week with Maki and Tiffny to deal with an issue in the elvish kingdom.” she rubbed her neck. 

“Why don’t you go?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” she scoffed, “NO ONE can get near!” She groaned and winced as she rolled her sleeves up, revealing bandages all over her arms. “I already TRIED and that bitch roasted me with wisps!” She whined, “And even my healing takes a bit when it’s soul fire.” she sighed, “it’s made to chew up magic in the first palace after all.”

His eyes widened as he looked. He hadn’t ever thought the Solaria Umbra could even be harmed, much less burned. He frowned, “So why me? I’m less resistant than you are.”

“You have a blessing of attraction. It should work on the dragon. If not throw this down.” she handed him a glass orb, “it’ll instantly send you back here.” she explained. “If you’re worried, I saw some Solgarian armor at your brother’s when I was visiting, you could wear that!” she teased, “a knight in shining armor!”

He thought about it and sighed, “Yeah, let’s do that then. Let me just text Cookie see if she can watch Hattie.”

“Oh, right the kid. I’d say i can watch but I need to drop you off, if it takes a bit I can get her from school even if my arms are bacon.” she snickered, “Since I am the one asking you to do this for me.” she moved around the desk and began to shift the shadows. Snatcher sighed and walked over as she used them to send them to the woods.

Marcus jumped as the two appeared on the porch. His potion flying from his hands. Kaya reached to catch it and screeched as it landed on her burned hands and then the floor. Marcus stared at the ruined mix and brushed his hair back annoyed.

“Yes?” he asked, hands on his hips as his tail wisped.

Kata frowned, “Can we take that Solgarian armor?” she asked, “I’m sending your brother to calm and agitated dragon down.”

“Ru? To a dragon?” Marcus deadpanned and rolled his eyes, “Sure I guess.”

“Sweet.” She moved the book shelf to head into the storage room. She grabbed the golden armor with a snicker, “Did you know my dad’s armor actually does have a similar look?” she asked.

“Does it?” Marcus floated over, “Interesting. But it makes sense. Father wanted his approval more than anything.”

Kaya snorted and chewed her lip.

“What?” Snatcher asked taking the suit.

“My dad LOATHES your dad,” she admitted as the two former princes stared.

She laughed loudly, “My dad thinks your dad is a fucking piece of shit who doesn’t deserve his bloodline!” she wheezed. She adjusted her bandages, “I mean he picked a fight with ME!” she snickered, “and my dad is a god of UNION not war.” she pointed out.

Snatcher snickered as he started to pull the armor on. “Yeah sounds right.”

“I pecking LOVE that fact!” Marcus cackled. He looked, “wow you still fit in that.”

“Huh?” Kaya blinked.

Snatcher adjusted the armor and looked around, “my sword should be here isn’t it?”

“Wait--” Kaya’s mouth dropped.

“Yeah I have it upstairs though on the wall display.” Marcus explained.

Kaya looked between them confused.

“Oh, cool. That’s easy.” Snatcher looked around, “is my scabbard around too?”

“Should be upstairs as well.”

“WAIT!” Kaya gasped getting their attention. She frowned, “are you saying that’s YOUR armor??? Not random?”

“Yes? It’s a little tighter but, this was when i used to train with the guards. I wasn’t about to get hurt. Estelle kept it here at the cabin after I was engaged as I didn’t fight anymore. Same with my sword.” Snatcher laughed at the teenager who shook her head and scoffed. He sneered, “What did you think I was a laze about?”

“N-No I just thought you were all books! The whole lawyer thing!” she admitted.

“I had no magic, of course I did something to protect myself!” He cackled.

Marcus snickered, “I can fight with a bow and arrow you know.”

She turned red and huffed, “well, I knew that one, i let you use my archery range.” she scowled, “L-Look let’s just get this dragon dealt with! I don’t want it to get more annoying!”

“Right.” Snatcher scowled.

“Kaya…” he stated as she looked at him.

“You said you thought Eclipse was home?” he asked, he’d thought on it for a bit but not too much, “I thought she was working. She had left and said she’d be out of cell service.”

“I called her phone and it said she was home.” she admitted with a frown, “I’ll look into it. Maybe she’s a frog again?” she suggested.

He frowned and nodded. “Please.” he scowled as he pulled his hair from his face, “let’s go get my sword and head off then.” His stomach flipped.

-----

Her claws traced the rocks as she snarled. It’d been a few days and she was starving. Nothing lived in the area that she could hunt. Her eyes narrowed as she felt someone getting near HER territory. She slunk across the grounds. Tail lashed around as she sniffed. She smelt that annoying twig that’d entered her territory a day before. But there was a new one. Sweet. Salty. She liked it. She licked her jaws as she growled.

“So a giant black dragon with weird wings?” he stated with a frown. He sighed as he looked at the barrier and stepped inside the area. Instantly he felt eyes on him. He frowned and reached for the hilt of his sword. He saw a flash of blue and held a hand up, the wisp nudging him. He chuckled. He frowned. His eyes grew wide.

Wisps.

He turned to where he felt the eyes and began to run towards it.

The dragon blinked in shock as the man came barreling at her. She reared up in her surprise and he looked up as she emerged from the grasses. He sighed.

“Guess I don’t need Kaya to look that up.” he reached his hands up.

The dragon whined and lowered her head. She nuzzled against him, chirping.

“What did you do you silly woman,” he asked as the dragon licked him. He snickered as he pet her muzzle. She purred as he rolled his eyes. He kissed the front of her nose and she huffed a small flame.

He frowned, “well. That didn’t work.” he scowled. A kiss didn’t work. He gasped when she pushed her head against him and he laughed as he reached at her horns. He frowned as he noticed an odd line of scales.

“Eclipse…” he frowned.

She blinked. Eclipse. Was that her? Her eyes flickered.

“Eclipse?” he asked a bit more forcefully. Her head hurt. She whined and pulled away from him.

He huffed and put his hands on his hips. She looked at the knight and growled. He made her head hurt.

“Eclipse show me your head again.” he ordered.

She shook her head and sat definitely. He glared and she lowered her head with a small huff of flames escaping her lips. He walked along and reached that odd line of scales. He frowned as his fingers traced it. It felt like an edge. He scowled and gripped it. The dragon lurched. He held tightly. He wrapped an arm around one of her horns as he gripped the edge. As he held it, it seemed to lift. He grit his teeth as she bucked and shook her head. She roared and growled as he continued to work on the edge, the scaling pulling up. He gasped as there was a spark of blue flame and the dragon collapsed to the ground. He winced as he hit the earth when she slammed into it in her collapse. 

He pulled and slowly, her body shrank. The scales vanished, the sound of snapping bones as her body reworked to human form. He shifted her to his lap as he pulled the mask fully off. She laid unconscious on his lap. He sighed and looked at the mask in his hands. He lit it up in blue flames, the mask crackling as it burned to ash.

Shaking the remains from his hand and focused back on Eclipse. He brushed her hair from her face as her ragged breathing grew more steady. He felt his cheeks grow red as he realized she was naked.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly. She looked up at him.

“Snatcher?” she asked softly. She groaned and moved to sit, falling against him. He gasped moving to steady her.

“Careful… you just were a huge ass dragon.” he snickered.

She whined and buried her face against his shoulder. He sighed and shifted to carry her. He felt her cling onto him and he was doing he best to not think about the fact he was carrying a naked woman with whom he had affections for. He felt his face heat up as he left the barrier.

Kaya stared in confusion. She stared with all four eyes and sighed heavily. She removed her over coat as she winced, handing it over to him.

“Thanks.” he used it to wrap Eclipse up.

“Of course she was the one to burn the shit out of my arms.” the demoness grumbled, “sooo any ideas?”

“A mask. A dragon mask. I burned it.” He scowled, “she didn’t seem to have any recognition.”

“What did it look like?” she asked with a huff. She looked at Eclipse with a scowl.

“Dark black, had a red ribbon on the back, had gold scales on it with ruby inlaid eyes.” he explained, “it was fused to her face.”

“To my love, may your heart grow fierce until your knight can calm it.” Kaya recited with a sigh and rubbed her neck with a groan, “An engagement mask from the dragon king. How odd. There shouldn’t be one in this realm…” She scowled as her fingers tapped her chin, “there’s no Dragon king in this reality so why would one of his engagement masks be here…” she sighed, “well I’m glad you got it off her. If she had it on too long, she’d have been a dragon forever.”

Snatcher scowled. He smiled softly as she moved some more in his arms. She looked up at him tiredly.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“Hungry.” she admitted with a frown, “tired… sore… where am I?”

“Near the ruins of Tir-na-Nocht.” he explained, “you were a big dragon.”

“Was I?” she frowned as she shifted how she was in his arms. She squeaked and pulled Kaya’s coat close as she realized she was naked. She groaned and rested against Snatcher, “I don’t remember… I just remember I was in some weird shop and some lady shoved something on my face then it gets blurry. I smelt something really sweet and I just wanted to be near it.”

Snatcher felt his heart race, “O-Oh?”

“It was like… calming. I felt calm so I wanted it. Then I remember pain and I’m just so hungry.” she sighed as she closed her eyes.

“Sho--- OH GODS DAMNIT!” Kaya slapped her face and whined as she hit her own burns, “Red door? Smells HORRIBLE?”

“Yes?” Eclipse turned to look at the demoness who had pulled her phone out and was angrily texting.

“Clockwork Rose” she explained, “I bet you met Belle. She’s finicky like a cat. Says she likes to help people but I swear she makes more messes than not! Stupid interdimensional space witch!” she huffed, “I prefer Briar to her cuz at least Briar only messes with shit in her own territory but nooo Belle makes paperwork EVEYWHEREEE.” she hissed and hit send with a sigh, “Seems you must have been her plaything.

Snatcher froze, “Does she have red hair, like a bright red?” he paled.

“She does.” Kaya admitted, “and eyes that are either green or blue, like gemstones.”

“I-I’ve been in her shop,” he admitted. “She gave me a weird locket! It burnt Eclipse’s hand and made me hear her heartbeat.”

“It made you hear what?!” the woman gasped, red in the face. “I-I remember the locket a few months ago b-but!”

He nodded, “Yeah, it had a weird side effect. I don’t know why.” he sighed.

Kaya frowned as she thought about it and sighed, “let’s go home. I have enough work to do, more so knowing this crosses into spacial law. Damnit I wanted to watch a new episode of Calimari Stage.” she opened a portal and waited for them to enter. She looked back at the fields that were once her home and frowned.

She raised a hand and reached out.

“Kaya?” Snatcher called.

She pulled her hand and looked back. She gave a small smile. She ran towards the portal and shoved them through. Wincing at her burns.

A wisp danced beyond the barrier, giggling before vanishing.

[xhanisai]

SALTING AROUND AT THE SPEED OF SOUND

AO3 / FFN

Summary: Introducing!!!!

The! Ultimate! Salt! Fic! Ever! IN ZA WARUDO!

Featuring Dumb Noir getting taught a lesson about boundaries, Perfectnette getting friends and love interest(s), and LILA GETTING HER ASS HANDED BACK! HOW COULD YOU RESIST SUCH A WONDERFUL FIC?

(All in all, a crack fic on salt fics to bring our spirits up~)

Disclaimer - I've actually only read like one sentence of a salt fic and fucked off afterwards so everything I'm basing off in this fic is purely from exaggerated rumours and gossip about the salt corner THEREFORE if anything here looks familiar or if it seems like I'm taking the piss out of a specific story, it's all just one big coincidence. >:D ~(x)~ . . . Of all locations to settle on for the beginning of this amazing, wonderful, fucking fantastic story, it's established on the Eiffel Tower. Cliched but wonderfully ironic for the phenomenal heroes of Paris. On the beams, higher than the naked eye could see, Ladybug and Chat Noir were... Arguing. The feline hero had his partner's wrist clasped in an iron hold, digging those deadly claws ever so slightly into the soft flesh, piercing the supposed indestructible suit with a creepy grin- "Wait- hold up a second. I would never, NEVER hurt My Lady! Not even unintentionally! And what's with that face I'm making!?" Oh SHUT UP Shit Noir! Let me carry on writing my fucking story jeez! Stop breaking out of character and keep following the script! Anyways~ The skinny, pasty assed hero- "This script sucks..."- -TUGGED Ladybug closer to him, grin widening like he won the lottery as his demonic looking eyes perversely drank in the sight of the clearly uncomfortable looking heroine in his grasps. His face leaned into hers, only coming closer as she tried her best to lean back with a grimace. "Just one kiss Bugaboo~ one kiss won't hurt..." His grip tightened on the appendage, making the girl wince painfully. "Come on Chat Noir...let go! I have already told you, I'm in love with someone else. You seriously need to back off!" Ladybug whimpered, tossing away all her badassery and ability to suckerpunch a fuckboy in the face because hell yeah it ain't relevant to this sexy fic- "You're right Chaton, this script does suck lmao"- IGNORING WHAT THE CANON LB JUST SAID. Ehem. Like a defenseless little shoujou manga protagonist, Ladybug felt tears sparkle in her eyes and pure sadness washed over her frail body before Fuck Noir dipped her into a romantic pose and smashed his lips against hers with soooooo much passion and tongue and teeth and- . What. On. Earth. Oi you stupid cat! Watch where you're putting your hands on the girl! Yikes! What do they teach these Europeans!? Break it up already you hormone riddled boobs! "Oh Minou~ You're so daring~" "Just for you, My Lady~" STAY ON SCRIPT YOU BRATS! Hmph! Carrying on. Suddenly, herculean strength riddled through Ladybug's blood, falcon punching Bitch Noir off her and off the tower, thus HenchBug™ was born. Panting and wiping her lip with her thumb in a really really badass way (YOU KNOW THAT EPIC WAY THAT ANIME CHARACTERS DO TO WIPE THE BLOOD OFF THEIR LIP, RIGHT? RIGHT? ex deeeee), MachoBug swept towards Pussy Noir's broken twiggy body at the bottom of the tower. "You disobeyed me for the umpteenth time, Noir." BadassBug uttered cooly, keeping a blind eye to the growing crowd around her and the mangled up flesh on sticks at her feet. The black and yellow mess didn't respond. "Lo-oooool cos I'm dead!" WE'LL PRETEND WE DIDN'T HEAR THAT EITHER. Anger coursed through Ladybug's veins as all those traumatising memories and moments she had with her horrific partner flashed through her brain like an old window's movie maker AMV with Evanescence's 'Bring Me Back To Life' song blasting at full volume. The conveniently arrived Alya at the front of the crowd live streamed everything on the WadyBwog, babbling about ice cream scoops. "Every time we met up, you'd always make unwanted advances to me. You'd always force a kiss on me. You even slapped my thicc™ ass a few times- once to the beat of fucking Nyan cat!" The hive minded crowd surrounding them 'oooed' and 'aaahed', some snapped a selfie with what's left of the black cat. "Therefore," The sun auspiciously shone behind MariBug, giving her an ethereal, angelic look as she carried on her lecture. "I now deem you unworthy of the miraculous." BugBug fluttered her eyelashes with so much pain as if reciting those words killed her whole generation and their dogs and their hamsters. "Hand it over to me or else I'll force it off you." All of a sudden BuffBug™ was back, bitch slapping CryBabyBug away and menacingly placed one foot on the carcass.   "Wow I think she forgot that you're dead Chat Noir," THE HIGH TENSIONED MOMENT REMAINED UNBROKEN AS FAKEBUG- oof- Ladybug rolled her eyes with annoyance at the disgusting boy's silence and immediately knelt down to yank the miraculous off his bony fingers- "Never!" The catboy sprung back to life before anyone could breathe, clutching his hand to guard his ring ferally, froth seeping out of his teeth and fangs gnashing against one another- "Looks like I'm a vampire with rabies now, Bug." "Since when did you have fangs?" "Since two seconds ago-" OH MY GOD YOU TWO! SHUT UP AND LET ME WRITE! Zombie Noir leapt back with a hiss, faux ears and tail twitching with indignation and summoned the ancient destruction power whilst BossBug spun her yoyo around in battle formation, ready to call for her lucky charm anytime soon. Cat and Bug kept up the intense eye contact as that cowboy music from the good, the bad and the fugly played in the background (cheers Lahiffe mah d00d!). "You don't want to become my enemy, do you, Chat N00b?" The heroine spat, bones clicking in place as she stretched her fingers when she and the lad in black circled each other slowly. The crowd and Alya were casually chilling in the background, the latter still narrating about an epic ice cream scoop. "Heh, I won't need to be the enemy if you don't touch MY ring... Milady~"- "MON DIEU! C'EST 'MY LADY'! C'EST N'AI PAS 'MILADY'!" THAT'S THE POINT YOU STUPID CAT! Break out of character one more time and I'll castrate you and feed your teeny tiny *censored* to the dogs! "...My Lady? Is my *censored* small? :(" "If your *censored* was small, you'd never have been able to make me scream at night, Minou~ ;3" ":D" 

Regardless! The pussycat feinted to the left before dodging the razor sharp wire of his Lady's (not) yoyo, whipping out his baton (not the tiny one either) and swiftly used it to vault himself away like the coward he CLEARLY is. "You'll never get me alive, THOT!" Was the last thing that small dick energy minded cuck yowled and fled with his tail between his legs. BigBug let out a yell of rage™ and slammed her fist on the ground, branding the sloppy concrete job with a crater as the shockwaves caused the audience to let out a little 'DAYUMMMMMMMM'. "Lol I thought the geezer was dead hahaah! Yo Ladybuggy, mah homie, you and kitty cat did the shame shame already or nah?" Alya, the lil hoe, leant into the heroine's personal space with a crazed grin. She only received a middle finger from the annoyed Asian. (MMmm Mmmm yEAH YEAh trANSiTION so SEXYYYY) Now, it is conveniently time for Marinette's afternoon classes. The exhausted girl dragged her feet up those weird ass spirally steps that could break ankles JUST by looking at them and made it to her classroom, only to pause at the shouting she was hearing behind the door. "Oh boy, time to unleash the kraken..." Silence Adrien! You're not supposed to have appeared yet! Dumb ass blondes these days smh... "HEY! >:0" With a deep breath, the raven haired girl pushed the door open only to be met with what could be best described as a clusterfuck. Tears welled up in her eyes as the remains of her sketchbook (which looked like it had a trip in a paper shredder) was dumped all over the floor. She snapped her head back up only for her heart to literally shatter when she was met with a furious Alya Motherfuckin' Césaire. "Marinetti DupainGhetti. This. Is. Your. Punishment." Alya's glasses flashed sinisterly as her lips curled up into  d i s g u s t . The rest of the class mirrored a similar look, acting as if poor little Cheng vored everything they loved and cherished. All except two people. That witch BITCH Lie-la smirked secretly as she cowered behind Alya and the wimp, spineless little shitty Dumbdrien whimpered on his desk, pretending that nothing was happening. "P-P-Punishment for wh-what?" Babynette sobbed, clutching her shoulders as if to hug herself and make her look smaller than she is. She darted her eyes towards the model, begging him internally to say something, anything! Alas, Bitchdrien only looked away guiltily, his thin chapped lips sealed shut. Marinette couldn't believe her bad luck. First there was an akuma attack, then she was assaulted by her shitty partner for the millionth time and now this? "Punishment for bullying our lord and saviour, Lila of course! How dare you make such a sweet girl like her suffer!?" Alya roared, using the power of the seven chaos emeralds and twenty dragonballs to go super satan and pinned Sweetienette against the wall with an elbow. Her hair fizzed with animosity and her eyes gleamed in a demonic red colour- "Dieu...you just had to drag my best friend into this too, huh?" "You'd think this writer is sane enough to know that I'd cataclysm anyone that dared to harm Ma Princesse, non?" "The writer? Sane? Good joke."- IGNORING STUPIDNETTE AND BLOODYDRIEN- Alya snarled, bruising our sweet little angel's poor skin with her brute strength whilst the rest of the class watched without a question. The sausage haired wench munched on some greasy ass popcorn as she watched the show whilst Shamedrien became one with the floor, a perfect doormat for us queens to stomp on. "You tripped her all the time when no one was watching, aggravating her shattered kneecaps. You plagerised her designs, ruining what's left of her sensitive self esteem and dammit don't even get me started on all those rumours you attempted to spread about her, smearing her celebrity status! I've never hated anyone more than you, BITCHINETTE!" Alya harrumphed and then shoved Brokenette against the wall again, possibly snapping her spine and stormed back to her new bestie. "Mon Dieu your best friend just murdered you..." "Mon Dieu my best friend just murdered me..." Tosses a knife at the duo to make them shut the fuck up. Everyone else applauded the psycho journalist for putting Poornette in her place, even Stinkdrien cos he can't handle peer pressure- BAM! . . . "HOW DARE YOU HURT MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG!" A tall, stern looking boy slammed the door open, scooping Deadinette in his arms and blew out steam through his nostrils like a bull. Everyone le gasped as the girl suddenly turned into Alivenette and embraced the stranger like he's her long lost lover (Aiyeeeeeeeeeeee mUH O-T-FUCKING-P! K Y A A  A! EVEN THOUGH WE KNOW JACKSHIT ABOUT HIM). "BELIX BRAGRESTE! You saved me~ Don't hurt my homiesexuals please- they're all brainwashed by the sausage haired girl..." The blackberry haired angel begged, tugging on Belix's sleeves. "I didn't do anything-" Uglydrien was quick to defend himself only to melt back down into a doormat by Belix's dark glare, ripping out what spinal tissue the model had left. "Damn straight you didn't do SHIT." Bragreste swiftly delivered a power-kick against Assgreste, yeeting him to the moon and then turned towards the rest of the f00king class, rolling his sleeves up. "As for you nerds...I'm gonna chop you all up into mincemeat and EAT you all with my spaghetti!-" "I'm here Marinette!!!" Another lad swooped in through the door, hips swaying to the beat as 'Luka Luka Night Fever' plays in the background and then posed! Why it's none other than the obviously best written, best character, best BOY in the world: RUKA COFFEE- sorry, I mean Luka Couffaine! He strummed his guitar a few times, nodding and humming as if he was conversing with the beautiful instrument whilst bokeh dots and pink sparkly glitter floated around him. "Ah~ my guitar said that everyone's being a bitch ass motherfucker to our beautiful designer! Come with my Mari~ Take my hand and I'll take you away from this school!" The lycee student didn't wait for her answer and grabbed the star struck girl oh SO romantically~ "No! She should move schools with me!" Belix Bananagreste snatched Nettie back possessively, just like a cat. It was then that the girl decided that when she managed to snatch the black cat miraculous back from the loser that currently wielded it, she was going to give it to Belix- "Ugh don't fuck with me..." "Shhh. You're supposed to have been yeeted to the moon, Chaton," "Marinette please just throttle the writer already-" AND THEN! SUDDENLY! Erm... Errr... AHA! Suddenly all these people from some furry superhero universe came flooding in through the door, yelling insults and real truths about LIE-LA and protecting my best girl Maribear like a boss! Heroes like Gamien and Dason Bob and that guy and err, the other guy and yeah AND THEN they all began to BEAT UP that BITCH LILA and then- "Oh no she's losing it, Adrien I don't think this will last any longer..." "No kidding!" THEN JAGGED STONE CAME FLYING THROUGH THE WINDOW, JAMMING OUT HIS LATEST SONG ABOUT HOW LILA IS SUCH A LIAR AND EXPOSED EVERY SINGLE THING SHE DID TO BEST GIRL MACHONETTE! THEN ALL THESE OTHER KIDS FROM THE SCRAPPED PV UNIVERSE CAME IN VIA A CONGO LINE AND MARINETTA DECIDED TO GIVE THEM THE OTHER MIRACULOUS COS WHY NOT!? AND THEN CHLOE BECAME MARINETTE'S NEW BFF COS HELL YEAH I LOVE VIBING WITH PEOPLE WHO BULLIED ME AND MY PEERS FOR FOUR YEARS STRAIGHT AHAHAAHAH QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENS- "Adrien, I'm going to kill her. She needs to stop." "Go on then~" AND THEN! AND FUCKING THEN! SCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!!!!!! . . . [Error 404: The following writer has unfortunately met her demise through unknown means. We apologise for any inconveniences. Please keep scrolling as we clear up the mess. Have a good day.] . . . "Huh...that was anticlimactic...now what?" "You go off snogging my rejected predecessor and the guitar boy? >:(" "As if I'd go for anyone other than my silly kitty!" ":D" . . . ~(x)~ A/N:  I am never EVER writing anything this cursed AGAIN! How can you bash anyone but the villains in this series!? Damn! I can't even say I'm sleep deprived! This is the most fucked up shit I've written and I'm super alert oof!

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Coastal Waters (1/8/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Valera @autokrates and Madame @usedhearts meet underwater, talk about Madame’s history, eat an eel, and head to the library when Valera discovers to his horror that Madame, an octopus, doesn’t know shit about octopuses. octopodes. octopi.

Madame

The sea. She hadn't even seen the ocean since she was just a girl, let alone swam deep in her waters. The water was warm against her skin, and she flowed through it with an effortless grace that she honestly didn't know she had. It felt good. It felt right, to be among the waves of this alien planet. This was were a giant octopus of a lady should be.

Madame just sat there, under the water, watching curious fish and other creatures flit towards her. She was far larger than any of them, so they were either brave or foolish. A few of the more foolish ones found their way inside her mouth for their crimes. She intentionally kept her skin a pinkish red, wanting to stand out among the reef. A color that said 'Here I am, and I'm bigger than you, so watch out!' It was perfect really.  She kept a look out for anyone else going for a swim-- she'd be sure they got a little kraken scare, just for fun.

Valera

Funny, how even on an alien planet, the ocean is still comforting to anyone who loved it. Colorful fish were abundant, the reddish light of the suns lending a faintly pink tinge to the rays coming down through the water.

And here comes Valera to torment innocent wildlife, a flash of silver followed by pink as he chases a mirror bright eel adjacent creature past Madame's resting place.

Madame

Madame's head snapped to the side as Valera passed, and quick as anything, she's off after him. That eel is the target, hm? Well, she wasn't about to let their host have an easy go of it. Tentacles opening and then thrusting back to get her speed, she closed in, trying to get it first-- or at least, make a little game of it for Valera.

Valera

It takes a few seconds for Valera to notice the appearance of a competitor, movement in the corner of his eyes nearly distracting him enough to lose track of the eel. But then the slippery menace turns on a dime, diving into a crevice in the rocks for all its worth. Valera's forced to brake, fins flaring out dramatically as he backpedals just to not smash into the rocks.

He perches on the coral, snorting out a few bubbles as he looks up at Madame. "Damn! Ah well, it'll have to come out eventually. Hello! What's an octopus like you doing in a place like this?"

Madame

Unfortunately, Madame doesn't catch herself quite as quickly as Valera, but she does slow herself enough to not smash hard against the rocks. She winced as she pulled away from them, rubbing her arm.

"Ouch. Them eels are slippery fuckers, ain't they?" She smirked at Val, swimming over to them and perching in a similar manner. "That it does. And thought I'd go for a swim, enjoy it while I can 'n all that. The closest I get to all this is my aquariums at home. This is...heaven, honestly."

Valera

Valera frowns, leaning in to sniff at Madame. Any blood? He can patch up a scrape no problem! The praise for his planet makes him purr, a soft buzz in the water that makes nearby fish start swimming closer to nibble at the pink fish's scales.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself! I was hoping my home would be a place of relaxation, but it seems like it's getting even more of a positive response than expected. If you really like it though, I'll see about inviting you back sometime!"

Madame

No blood, luckily, but she'd probably have a bruise or three later. Octopus skin is durable but not the best when it comes to impacts.

"Oh, I'd simply love that-- even give ya free drinks for life at the Cabaret if that'd sweeten the pot." She winked and laughed, before turning to look up at the surface, watching the sunlight glitter through. She was glad they were surrounded by salt water-- a few tears wouldn't be noticed down here.

"It truly is beautiful. Reminds me so much a home-- I ever tell ya, me 'n Alastor hail from the same place? Good ol' Nawlins, right there on the gulf. Gorgeous city, full of wonderful people 'n the best food 'n the south. When I went west with my husband, I knew I'd miss the ocean, but I didn't think I'd die without ever seein' it again." She smiled as she turned towards him.

"Ya really put some joy back in an ol' lady's heart, Valera, invitin' me here. Didn't think it'd mean as much as it does...but here we are." She laughed, and wiped at her eyes-- before remembering there was nothing to wipe. "Forgive me, gettin' all emotional. We supposed t' be lookin' for an eel, right?"

Valera

"Oh, that eel can go tie itself in knots for all I care, we're talking about this old lady here right now." Valera leans in, a clawed hand delicately patting at Madame's shoulder. "I didn't know you were from New Orleans! I've been there a few times. Lovely place. Very...." He pauses to think, plucking a wandering shrimp off the reef to gesture with. "Lively? Vibrant! You can really lose yourself in that city"

His tail winds around an outcrop, the fish settling down like he was lounging on the finest swooning couch. "So, you were married? Happily, I hope!"

Madame

She took a few breaths, the water filling her chest with warmth, and nodded.

"I was, born 'n raised. Got married a fresh faced youth 'n me 'n the husband decided to try 'n make our fortunes out west. We made it out there too, 'n then he caught ill 'n passed. Left me with a house built and some livestock bought 'n not much else. Started up doin' work on my back, 'n then collected some other girls, some a them like me, others on they own from the start. Home my husband built became my saloon 'n brothel, 'n a whole town sprung up around it. Lovely lil' place.

"But with people come folk what think they the law in a lawless patch a ground. Dumb fucks didn't like me much, and I ain't care for them neither. Startin' smugglin' for local outlaws, hidin' some. The quote-unquote 'law' got it in they heads to burn my place down, cause I was hidin' some poor boy they wanted-- surprised them when the whole thing blew to smithereens cause we was sittin' on a couple boxes a dynamite. Oh, if I coulda seen their faces...." She trailed off and then cleared her throat, laughing a little.

"But then I landed in Hell. And they did too. Strung 'em up by they own insides for I staked a claim on the land I landed on. That's where the Cabaret sits now. The asshole's skeletons're in the aquarium now, housin' crabs and whatnot. Serves 'em right."

Valera

Valera makes a sound more like a dolphin noise than a whistle, crossing one leg over the other as he listens to Madame tell her not especially tragic backstory. "It certainly does. Though I'm sure the short time they spent in Hell came as a rather nasty surprise, if they were going around calling themselves the *law*."

A snort. "It sounds like you've been a woman with a talent for business since day one, Madame. Can't say I'm surprised with the way you run things, but what a story. Sorry to hear about the husband though, losing someone is never easy."

Madame

She nodded, crossing her legs as daintily as someone who was fifteen feet tall could.

"Oh yeah, real nasty surprise for them-- shame I didn't keep 'em around longer, woulda been fun to have 'em strung up on the dart boards or somethin'."

Madame shrugged. "I did miss 'im but, after he died, I realized that I never _really_ loved him. Not like a woman 'n a man 'should' love each other. Dunno why, always been like that I suppose. But we was best friends since childhood 'n it made sense back then to marry someone y' at least liked, instead a some stranger."

Valera

"Hah! I can see it now! Are you a sadist? Five bucks a pop and you can throw your darts at the living dart boards! Ten points if you get them in the eyes, fifteen if you throw hard enough to knock a tooth out! Oh, Hell would have loved that." He cackles, popping the shrimp into his mouth for a quick snack. Mmm, crunchy!

"...Is there a 'should'?" His face twists in confusion. "Maybe it's an alien thing. I was set to bond with my own best friend before I cut that short in favor of running the Autocracy. Romance seems secondary in favor of... You know. Benefits."

Madame

"Dunno. With humans there's always a 'should', it seems. 'Ya _should_ love a man. Ya _should_ marry 'n have kids. Ya _should_ pick yerself up by yer bootstraps 'n get shit done. Ya _should_ know all the right things ta say'." She sighed and shrugged.

"Never much cared for the shoulds. Married because it seemed better'n bein' alone-- and I ended up alone anyways. So, what was the point 'n the first place? I sure as shit don't know. Just lost my best friend, that's all." Madame leaned her chin on her hand, elbow on her knee. "Think I woulda fared better with aliens then humans."

Valera

An eyebrow is raised as Valera turns what Madame said over in his mind. "I don't think marrying your best friend directly resulted in him dying, Madame. But I will admit, you wouldn't be the first human, former or otherwise, to say they would have likely been happier with an alien partner." He's absolutely talking about Pentious. And maybe a few others. He's a popular fish!

"Humans are silly creatures, and I do say that fondly! I've seen very few races as determined to bind themselves to strict social rules and roles that none of them seem to actually enjoy. It's baffling."

Madame

She laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I know whatcha mean. Most people seem happier when they break social conventions. Makes ya wonder why we even got 'em."

Madame took a breath and smiled. "And I didn't mean it so much as an alien partner as, well, maybe I was just meant to not be a human-- alien in a human body or some such. Maybe it's why I adapted ta bein' a weird giant octopus demon so well!"

Valera

"Your guess is better than mine, I'm only a human when it suits me."

He grins, all teeth. "It wouldn't surprise me. You never struck me as especially *human*, tentacles nonwithstanding. A lovely person? Yes, absolutely. You take good care of all your girls. But human? Not really." Well that's cryptic. But good luck getting him to elaborate, he's already distracted by trying to shove his arm into the crevice where the eel is hiding.

Madame

Madame let out another laugh, smirking as she shrugged and waved a hand.

"I'll take the compliment, and y'know, that reminds me a one of my go-to numbers." She slid off the rock she sat on and floated down a bit, twirling as she went.

"_I admit that in the past I've been a nasty, they weren't kidding when they called me well, a witch_...." She trailed off, giggling. "One of my favorites. That and 'When You're Good To Mama', acourse."

Valera

"Mm, I had you pinned as a contralto day one, my dear Madame." Valera glances over, against the rock up to the shoulder as he scrabbled for the eel. "You run that routine at the cabaret, right? I'll have to swing by to see it sometime! Maybe with my beau, though I don't know his opinion on burlesque just yet."

Madame

"Oh yes! Just tell me when y'all are droppin' by and I'll be sure to add myself to the night's roster." She winked and swam closer, looking at Val's arm, stuck deep in the rock.

"Any luck findin' the squirmy bastard? Or do ya need something a little more dexterous?" She wiggled a tentacle at him.

Valera

He frowns, then pulls his arm back and gestures for Madame to take his place. "I think you may have better luck, my dear. And for more than just that dexterity of yours! Mind the teeth though, those eels aren't the sharpest around, but they bite and do NOT let go."

Madame

Her arms crossed as she slid the tentacle inside, and Madame's face screwed up in concentration. A few moments later she let out a shout.

"Ow! Fucker got me, but I got him too!" With a mighty yank, her tentacle pulled back out, the eel wrapped tight in it, even as it chomped down on her. "What now, Val?"

Valera

"Now you eat him!" He crows, clapping his hands together as the eel gives the most hateful look it can muster. Though, underwater, there wasn't actually any sound to the gesture. "It's your catch, just bite him behind the eyes, nice and clean kill!"

Madame

She arched a brow, but brought the eel closer, moving to get a good angle. Madame opened her mouth and snapped down on the eel's head-- and it released it's own bite on her. She took it in her hands and bit it in half, swallowing down the front half.

Madame offered the other half to Val, grinning. "Here. Only right a guest share with her host."

Valera

He affects a dainty gasp, accepting the eel with a coquettish fluttering of his lashes. "Why THANK you, my dear Madame. Such a gracious guest, my hearts are warmed by your consideration."

And that chunk of eel is gone in a flash, yam yam. "Gods, always a tasty little morsel. Those have a lot of interesting names in various languages here, but my personal favorite is the one that translates best to..." He taps his chin, trying to think of the closest words. "Something like Bastard Snake. Bastard as in abandoned son, not the insult."

Madame

"Nah, I think the insult worst better, cause he sure was a bastard ta get outta there." She gestured toward her bitten tentacle.

"Think he mighta torn a chunk outta me. Ouch..." She brought it closer to inspect and while the chunk wasn't _gone_, it was barely hanging out. "Oh, that's a doozy..."

Valera

He leans in, taking a closer look at the damage to Madame's tentacle with a sympathetic hiss. "Oooh, that looks painful. Want me to fix it?"

A waggle of his fingers, and he extends a glowing hand. That's probably not ominous, right?

Madame

"Can ya?" She asked, her head tilting. "I'd love ta not have to whip out the scar cream for somethin' so small."

Valera

"I can! Healing and barriers are actually my specialty." He trills, looking VERY pleased with himself about that fact. "No strings attached for you, of course."

Madame

"Well, then, thank ya kindly. Yer a lovely 'n gracious host." She beamed.

Valera

He takes her tentacle in hand, smoothing over the wound with a slow sweep of his palm. A brief flash of numbness, heat, and there, good as new. No dramatics necessary! But he's still going to deliver with some SPECTACULAR jazz hands and the cheeriest grin he can muster.

"There, how's that?"

Madame

Madame let out a little 'oh!' at the numbness and heat, and as soon as her tentacle was released, it flexed and wiggled of its own accord.

"Well, that was sure somethin'! Never had a healin' like that."

Valera

"Never? Is healing magic not common in Hell?" Well, either that or Madame just didn't get hurt often. Either seemed possible.

Madame

"Oh no, it's not that. Usually gettin' somethin' healed costs-- usually a soul, or a favor, but always somethin'." She shrugged. "Try not to get into too many fights, cause the healin' is usually worse than the damage."

Valera

He squints, planting his chin on his open palm as he stares at the fixed tentacle. "I mean, I guess it cost something? All I did was encourage your natural healing. A few cell divisions to smooth over the damage, replace the torn up cells. Something that small didn't require actually replacing any massive swaths of material. You'll be hungrier than usual later, but that's about it!"

A shrug. "It would have been worse if you'd actually lost a chunk, but even then, I could have just converted a pebble to matching flesh or something. No biggie!"

Madame

"A pebble? Huh!" She tapped her chin. "That is somethin'. Yer magic's a lot more powerful than anythin' I can channel. Usual I go to good ol' Al for any real punchy magics."

Valera

"You know, people keep saying that. I never thought of myself as especially powerful." He holds up a finger. "Well, no. I have plenty of RAW power. But as far as efficiency goes, I'm absolute garbage. My magic isn't nearly as finely tuned as it could be. I burn tons of it on even small spells. Like, embarrassing amounts. Horrendously sloppy."

A sigh. "What kind of magic do you usually need from good old Alastor?"

Madame

"If I need a costume on the fly, he can magic up some pretty good threads. He's fairly good at some basic healin'-- like if ona my acts sprains somethin'. And of course, the best magic of all-- his reputation. Ain't nobody gonna mess with the Cabaret none if I got the Radio Demon in my back pocket." She paused.

"Don't tell him I said that, he wouldn't take kindly to it."

Valera

He waves a hand, grin turning downright impish. "What, me? Tell an Alastor that his reputation is helping protect his friends? My dear, I would *never*."

Madame

Madame giggled, and winked at him. "Yer a peach, shug." She put her hands on her hips.

"Anythin' else ya wanna tag team, huntin' wise? I'm down for a lil explorin' 'n huntin', if you are."

Valera

Valera sticks his tongue out, slowly unwinding his tail from his anchor point. "No, I'm a fish! But I understand the confusion. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone your mistake." A wink.

"We'll have to browse the local selection, Madame! If you're amenable to a bit of window shopping, that is."

Madame

"I dunno about that, ya ass is pretty peachy!" She cackled, swimming closer to take his arm.

"I'm a fan a any kinda shoppin', includin' the window kind!"

Valera

Oho! Quick on the sass with that one, was she? Good! Keeps things interesting. He politely flutters his fins, turning his head this way and that to scout out a meal.

"You're more of an ambush predator, no?"

Madame

"Think so! Don't know too much bout octopuses honestly? Only what I've been able to figure out, mostly. But it worked earlier!" She laughed.

Valera

... He turns his head back to look at Madame, eyebrows inching up slowly but surely.

"Pardon? You don't know about octopuses? The very animal your soul was moulded after for your eternal punishment?"

Madame

She laughed, oh that look on his face!

"Yup! Thinka how surprised I was when I dropped inta Hell lookin' like this!" She gestured to herself. "Knew things like fish 'n gators 'n the like, 'n even the tiny little octopuses, but never one as big as me!"

Valera

He squints, slowly turning them back towards the shore. Sounds like they're about to make a trip to the *library*.

"I'm sure. So you're not familiar with how octopus brains work? Or the semi-independent "minds" of their tentacles?"

Madame

"Oh, is that why they sometimes do shit on they own?" She giggled again, going along with Val's movements.

"And no, I ain't. Never thought to look it up, too busy buildin' my business 'n keepin' it."

Valera

He snorts. Yes, this library visit is sounding more and more necessary. But he's not above setting a sedate pace. A couple of friends on a relaxing swim, no need to flip.

"Yes, Madame. You'll also be pleased to know that were you an octopus of the male persuasion, one of your tentacles would also be your penis." A pause, and he amends. "Well, theoretically. It gets wibbly when you mix humans and other species. I doubt you'd lay four hundred thousand eggs and then die from a single mating."

Madame

Her eyes widened and she can't help but laugh again. "Oh fuck! Yeah, sure glad I don't do that! Woulda double died a long time ago!"

Valera

"If it makes you feel any better, the Earth fish I most resemble, the lionfish, can lay..." A tap at his lips, give him a moment to recall... Oh, yes, there we go. "Fifteen thousand eggs every four days?"

That's so many. He shudders at the very thought. "I'm not *quite* so prolific. But fret not, my dear. All those facts and more can be safely tucked into your noggin once we find you a book that doesn't read like watching paint dry. I know there's SOMETHING about octopuses being able to tamper with their own biology on the fly."

Madame

"Oh? That sounds interestin'. And yeah, glad we ain't out here layin' thousands of eggs, that's just too much." She laughed, giving his arm a squeeze in hers.

Valera

And off they go, back to shore and beyond, to educate an octopus woman on her own partial biology. How lovely.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord AU short - It comes before a fall

The craggy landscape of Pandora raced by outside the tinted windows of Troy’s massive technical as the COV war machines that escorted the glossy black hulk thundered around it in a convoy, weaving between the billowing clouds of acrid dust that trailed behind the God’s chariot as they bounced and jostled along the dirt road that lead to their backwater destination.

Its deified passenger wasn’t enjoying the trip quite as much as his retinue, and was finding it difficult to deal with their raucous voices and blaring music audible over the roar of the vehicle’s engines as tires screeched over the rocky dirt road.

He rubbed at his temple, wincing quietly at each bump and grind of the car’s axles, and reminded himself why he was wasting his precious time driving to this nameless little shithole.

Pride.

(Incredible art by @lazulizard​ ) Troy had reluctantly added the town to his itinerary after noting how close it was to the cult-controlled Eridium plant he’d scheduled to inspect with his vanguard today, it had been an irritant under his skin for long enough, and it seemed fitting to gouge it out when he had a couple of hours to spare, regardless of how much he’d rather be in the Grand Cathedral right about now. The camp was a blip on the map he’d spent so long seeding across Pandora. An insignificant, pathetic speck of non COV land surrounded by the vast sprawl of the Twin’s territory, that had been in the back of his mind for months now. As his iron grip tightened on the region and the cult’s control had spread like a seeping cancer across the desert plains, the gaps had filled in piece by piece, all bar this dive. He’d figured it was time to scratch the itch, they were going to be nearby anyway, just a couple of extra hours drive in the padded luxury of his chauffeured technical and they’d still have time to be back in the Holy City by nightfall, so why not. Get it done. Make the cut.

He just wished his skull wasn’t splitting as the car lurched, or there was some company with him to lighten the mood, give him something to listen to bar the shrieks and throbbing music of his crusaders. The day had been tiring enough, the threats and sneering orders he’d snapped at the plant workers took more out of him than he’d ever feel comfortable admitting. The technical was air conditioned, comfortable, armored, and his driver pleasantly silent, but the migraine wouldn’t budge. He was tired, tired in his fucking bones, and he couldn’t even remember when the last time he hadn’t felt this way was. 

Everything was changing, or had already changed. He wasn’t sure which, but what he did know was that this, riding passenger in a 6 million dollar custom war-machine with a bottle of champagne in the platinum holder next to him he couldn’t pronounce, driving towards a shanty town with a retinue of blood thirsty marauders who carved his name into their chests and performed rites of sacrifice in his image, this was not what he’d signed up for. This wasn’t becoming a star was it, Tyreen? 

This had turned over time into something else, and he was clawing to try and keep it under control now, constantly. Scrabbling to placate the rot in his gut that whispered it was real, that he was a God, and that these people deserved what his cult did to them.

He rested his head against the blacked out glass of the window, watching the retinue belch fire and smoke from hood mounted exhausts while playfully attempting to push each other off road as they drove on, his guard’s excitement manifesting in triumphant yells and vicious warnings to “Keep your distance” - blasted from car-mounted stereo equipment that echoed out across the wastes. He wished for a moment he could still feel that level of adrenaline, that rush of carefree blood-thirst his crusader’s inebriated themselves with on runs like this. Everything was just.. grey now. Had been for a long time. He let his eyes fall closed, grounding himself. They’d arrive soon. He’d step out of this gilded cage of a car and into the spotlight. He needed to slip on the character. Place the mask. Play the part.

Time to have a nice little chat with them, an unannounced Holy visit. Find out why exactly they hadn’t accepted the COV’s gracious offer to join in all this time… give them a reason to believe.

As the town came into sight through the oily dust clouds in the distance ahead like a rusty blemish on the rocky horizon, he tensed, leaning to his side to get a straight view of it through the dark glass. A wave of disgust ran up his spine as they closed distance and the reality of its state came into focus, sharp eyes taking in the town’s condition while his retinue’s speakers turned toward it to blast an announcement of their God’s arrival.

It was tiny, filthy. Ramshackle junk housing stacked haphazardly on top of each other. Rusted cargo containers turned into homes for people with nothing else to call their own. The crudely cut windows and doors fluttered with rags and patched together clothing set out to dry in the parched desert wind, and they caught the red clouds of dust the convoy billowed into the air as the vehicles screeched to a stop in front of the shabbily constructed entrance to the village. 

It made you feel grimy just being here, he thought with a scowl as he stepped down from the technical, watching with disgust as the polished metal of his boots instantly turned dull when they crunched into the red clay beneath him. The God King flipped his fur collar higher and lazily swiped his hair into place with practiced indifference as the crusaders on either side of him thundered forward into the village with weapons raised. His personal guard immediately began to establish a perimeter away from their King, herding and snapping at panicked townspeople with efficient, well trained, deadly ease.  He took a moment to assess the terrified crowd of inhabitants that had collected in fearful groups. They were cowering in doorways and stumbling back over each other with hands raised in submissiveness as his vanguard roared orders to “Make way for Father Troy”, parents calling their scrawny children with frantic gestures to get inside their homes, no one giving even the slightest resistance to the demands of his retinue. These weren’t a threat.

Skinny. All of them. Malnourished, most in rags or barely clothed at all. Sickly kids stared at him from sunken eye-sockets over the jagged windows they peeked out of, this place was diseased. The few weapons he noted as he scanned across the crowd were rusted or poorly junked together out of scrap. These weren’t even bandits, bandits were more robust than this, these were just people. The forgotten of Pandora, the absolute bottom rung in the pecking order. People, trying to survive on a planet that you either sacrificed your morals to, or your life.

Something in his gut twisted in response to that. Something that he’d rather not think about as he strode into the village, his polished smile and immaculately clean outfit emphasising the wealth and power he held in stark contrast to the dust coated poverty he stalked into, he stood out like a wound here, twinkling jewelry and harsh metal spines of his cybernetics glinting in the evening sun. The commanding presence he emanated was amplified by the crusaders who flanked him on either side in their warped skull masks and dark leather armor, monochrome bar the neon splashed COV weapons and chrome spiked accessories they wore as uniform. No one kept God King Calypso waiting long, and the old woman stumbling towards him was clearly the town leader - considering the worried glances towards her from the rest of the villagers as they watched in nervous silence.

She stopped a couple of feet before him, not reacting to the weapons raised in unison by his vanguard, a tiny little woman, all pinprick brown eyes and brown craggy skin, who’s wispy white hair fluffs in the breeze like a cloud perched onto her scalp. She wasn’t remotely afraid, he could feel that straight away, but she bowed to him politely, spoke her crude little greeting respectfully through a dry old throat.

“Troy Calypso, welcome, majesty. Not sure why yer here, but what can we do for a God kind enough t’ grace us with his presence?”

He took the bait, sparkling smile spreading wider as his eyes narrowed , gesturing with a grand bow towards her to emphasise his reply:

“Oh, no, no ma'am, what can we do for you? That’s why I’m here. To get an answer to this tricky lil’ question at last.” he smarmed, standing to his full height again, golden fangs so clearly peeking out of the now wolf like grin as his eyes twinkled with mock kindness.

“The COV would love to welcome you into our family. Have wanted you to join for quite a while! I thought a… hah.. personal touch might help, came to have this polite chat with you myself, hope I wasn’t too forward.” he raised his mech fist slowly, counting off the bladed fingers theatrically as he continued.

“Food. Medicine. Safety. Guns. Protection, we offer the same benefits to all our followers, and we really do ask for so little in return - just your fealty, and that’s such a small th-”

“No thank you.” she croaked in reply, cutting him off mid sentence. The crowd behind her gasped in quiet shock at the rudeness, and the insult of her dismissal shot like a sniper round directly into the back of his brain. He reeled for a second, mouth souring out of the fake smile it had been locked into as he took a moment to scrutinise her wizened little face through a disapproving side-eye. The right panel of his maw twitched involuntarily - just quick enough for a flash of razor sharp teeth to catch the sunlight as it slid back into place. 

He almost mouthed his thoughts, nearly warned her to not do this, not when there were people he had to maintain his reputation in front of, but he swallowed it down instead with an arrogant tilt of his head and flex of his lithe torso. Locked it deep in his belly and hoped she’d realise her mistake.

The old woman was expressionless, but wasn’t meeting his demanding stare. Her eyes were instead trained on the skull tattoo shifting across his chest with each controlled breath, was she aware of the knife-edge she was walking on? Did she know the danger she was really playing with? He closed the distance slowly, a subtle hand gesture commanding his guards to lower their weapons as he came close enough to her to hunch down, dropping his towering frame to bring his face closer to her eye level.

He said nothing for a moment, breathing in the smell of dust and old sweat she gave off in loud, deep huffs through his nose. She was shivering, not as stoic as he’d thought. He could see that now that he was so close to her throat.

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he sighed. Troy was tired. He wasn’t in the mood to play this game, even when he could see ten steps ahead and knew the direction she was making the terrible mistake of heading in. Letting the persona slip away, he lowered his voice, wanting to keep this between just them and out of range of the surrounding nearby crowd.

“Lady, help me out here... I’m confused. I’m fuckin’ insulted.” He muttered, jaw a little tighter than he wanted to acknowledge as he continued.. “Your town is too small to even tax, we ask nothing from a shanty this size. I waive tithes… ” Troy paused as he turned his mouth closer to her ear, close enough for the heat of his breath to prickle the hair on her neck, and lowered his voice further till it was barely a husky whisper.

“All the COV will ask from you is loyalty. You know I could level this shithole with a nod… right? You get that I could massacre aaalll these people with just a word? Why. Why would you deny us? These people, these kids are s-starving. These kids are sick. We- I can fix that, like this:”

He snapped his flesh fingers next to her ear, and bristled pleasurably at the wave of perverse satisfaction that rolled through his stomach when she jolted in response, her paper thin eyelids fluttering. Did she understand now, he wondered, flicking his piercing gaze to one of the skinny kids holding onto their mother’s leg nearby, and the look on their face as they stared at him, like they were realising the Big Bad Wolf wasn’t entirely make believe. Did she understand the out he was giving her, the genuine offer of charity hidden behind the God King’s sneer? That he couldn’t provide it unless she bowed and played along?

She shifted a little, her stiff old shoulders popping in complaint as she did, and finally raised those warm little brown eyes to meet his bitingly cold ice blue ones.

“I didn’t mean t’ insult his liege..” she breathed, and he waited for her to continue, waited to hear her out.

“Maybe you just got too big t’ understand. Maybe bein’ so strong can leave you soft in places you don’t know about anymore. Cuz’ starving to death? Bein’ sick?” she shrugged awkwardly, lowering her eyes to his chest again.

“We all die, but at least you’d still die free.”

That stab landed. He sucked in a jagged breath and held it, shaking. The moment of silence that followed felt like a millennia to the hundred people huddled around them, too far to hear what had been said, but close enough to see his reaction to it, see the jagged black metal spines of his vertebral implant raise and vent crackling red Siren energy in response to the berserk anger their leader’s muttered words had ignited in the King.

His fist tightened by her ear as his markings flared, and the pulse of scarlet light bathed them both in that moment, reflecting cruelly in the piercing eyes that bored into the side of her head as she refused to meet his stare. 

The rage rolled off God King Calypso’s hulking frame in tangible waves... but the old woman did not waver. 

He straightened slowly, maw clicking and twitching in fury as he rose. A stringy line of drool slavered from the split mandible and landed at her feet as his eyes narrowed, and Troy smiled at her, his jaw clipping together into a friendly grin so transparently hostile you could see the fangs snapping into place behind it. His eyes scanned the crowd rapidly, pausing imperceptibly on each of those scrawny kids that hid their faces from him now, terrified past their curiosity. OK. If this is the way she wanted to play..

Then he’d do the same. ”Fine”, he barked, voice clear and loud, making sure every villager would hear what he had to say, that all eyes were locked on him as he continued. “No problem ma’am. I’m not a man to push my kindness on others. Good luck with your..." he paused to crack a false laugh, shifting his eyes to the nearest family - “Your uh.. “dying free”.” He winked at them, and then his entire demeanor shifted purposefully, making a scene of dropping the playful act and warping into grim disgust as his gaze snapped back to her, still refusing to meet his eyes. He began to turn, and gestured for his retinue to follow, their boots crunching through the dirt as they stormed to his side.  He made one final pause as the reached their vehicles and looked back, lifting his monstrous cybernetic arm to wave playfully at the gathered people, watching with satisfaction as a few cringed when the bladed fingers caught the dying sunlight.  “By the way!” he bellowed, commanding their absolute attention again as his mouth split into a wolfish grin. “If you need any help with components for building all those little kid sized coffins, give us a call, yeah? We’ll cut you a good deal.” The looks they shared were a reassurance at least. Maybe someone would listen after all.

*******

"Fucking MOVE” he hissed at his driver as a crusader closed the car’s door after him, and they gassed it at his command, the hulking technical’s tires spinning a cloud of debris towards the town's inhabitants as they covered their eyes and coughed.  He couldn’t get out of this shit-hole fast enough. Couldn’t get far enough from those *children* and the way they’d looked at him, he flicked his eyes to the rear view mirror and felt a cold chill through his burning chest as they faded into the dust behind the convoy. That stupid woman. That stubborn old bitch. She’d let them die rather than bend a fucking knee. He was disgusted, and not fully sure who with. Slamming his boot into the back of the partition in front of him and feeling the car swerve as the driver jolted, he screamed “Drop the DAMN DIVIDER, YOU MORON!!” -  panting in anger as they fumbled in panic to hit the switch and activate the internal armor at his demand. He’d barely managed to keep the storm of emotion brewing inside him contained when they finally found it, and felt a wave of relief when the reinforced metal screen closed between them, giving him privacy at last.  Troy hunched forward in his seat and pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes closed and desperately trying not to sob. What the fuck had just happened back there? He wanted to cry, his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest and he couldn’t seem to get enough air, lungs heaving as he shuddered in gasps while trying to swallow down the panic. What had happened? In 6 years of recruiting, 6 years since the COV had reached a level of power where they were no longer told no, he’d never encountered anything like that situation. He wasn’t prepared for it, he’d never had to deal with this mix of completely opposing emotions before. Standing there looking at sick kids he knew could help so easily, but knowing that under the scrutiny of his vanguard and the terrified eyes of the villagers, he couldn’t break character to do it. He ran his flesh fist into his hair and gripped hard into the dark mess, pulling sharply at his scalp as he crumbled further forward, head nearly between his knees as he trembled. Trying to give that bitch an out, trying to be clear in his cunning, emphasising what he was offering, and being denied the only route he had to help them by a weak old woman too proud and stubborn to give the nothing he asked for in return. Nothing! Some COV propaganda plastered about the town would have been more than enough, it didn’t make sense. He couldn’t understand. No one said no. No one denied them. He hissed as the first tear spilled down his cheek, then threw himself back into the seat and *screamed*, bludgeoning the massive mech arm into the steel divider. Not caring if the driver heard him choking out tears. Not caring if they told the others, not caring about anything anymore bar those kids, and how sick he’d been, and how powerless he was now even when he paraded himself as a God, how much of a lie it was. He had no control. He had to act the part, always, even when it was something he hated, when it wasn’t what he wanted. Troy snarled as the hot wet slick under the bracer and the telltale burn along his delicate scarred shoulder became noticeable, but didn’t stop, hammering the metal over, and over, as the agonising jolts buckled the arms outer plating more with each blow. His voice was starting to crack between sobs, wheezing on the intake as his weak lungs began to fail, but he had to spew this bile out now, knowing he couldn’t risk trying to carry this level of emotional turmoil into the Holy City while hoping the mask didn’t slip in front of Saints, or his sister. He was a fake. No God would be sobbing like this, having a tantrum alone in the back of a damn car. 

Nothing about him was fucking real. That woman had seen it, she’d looked right through him like he was glass. Straight past the bluster and fangs, to the stammering, sick, broken, weak man he’d thought he’d hidden, and known she could say no. Known straight away that she was stronger than him. He’d thought.. he’d hidden that person.. so well. Coughing a final sob as his ruined arm shuddered on damaged pistons and slid to his side, he lifted his left to cover his face, slumping back in his seat, silent now bar for the pained hiccups that followed. God.  He didn’t know what to do.. Part of him wanted to say screw it, order an airdrop of supplies off the books. Food, medicine, some guns. Anything to give them a chance out there. He was in charge of finance, no one would need to know, maybe he could manage it and keep his reputation intact...  But the other part of him wanted to send the command to have the fucking shit-hole razed to the ground.  How’s your freedom taste now, while slag melts the flesh off your bones you stupid old bitch. Troy coughed quietly, sinking lower into the seat as he rested his sore neck against the curve of the headrest, trying to steady his breathing as he forced himself to calm. There was no longer any sound outside, no shouting or broadcasts, just the dull roar of the convoy’s engines, like white noise in the back of your mind. The same craggy Pandoran landscape raced past as before, but pitch dark now, the only light being what streamed from the vanguard vehicle’s headlamps.  Suddenly, the technical bounced over a bump in the dirt track and he winced as he jolted forward, then nervously lifted the front of his coat as he felt a trickle down his right side, sighing in embarrassed defeat as he saw the blood seeping from under the bracer seam resting against his lower ribs. Perfect, he thought, banging his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. 

Wonderful, he’d really made the right choice with that breakdown, huh. The arm was junked, his shoulder was torn to pieces, and he’d probably lost his voice. Tyreen was going to eat him alive, if she even noticed, he reminded himself with a humorless snort, too tired to even manage a sneer. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his Echo, sniffing as he bent his head to rub his eyes on his forearm, too blurry with tears and mascara to see the display clearly. He didn’t know what to do. But she would, wouldn’t she. He slowly thumbed through the 2 years of unanswered messages, all read, over and over on nights when things were bad, but none responded to. All from her. Checking in if he was ok, repeating it hadn’t been all his fault, letting him know she was still right there if he ever needed her.  She’d know. He could ask. He could ping her right now, and she’d know what to say straight away. She’d point him in the right direction, dig the worry out of his chest and slap the back of his head with a few blunt words of choice like she always managed. Seifa would know..  He didn’t realise how hard he was gripping the E-Dev till a straggling tear dropped to his bone white thumb knuckle, and he blanched, snapping out of his lost thoughts as he shook his head. With one last glance at her messages, he tapped the display button and dropped the Echo to his lap, then lifted his shaky hand to wipe at his eyes, feeling the oily shift of streaked eyeliner under his fingers.  He needed a fucking shower.  He was so tired. ****

Had so much fun writing this and appreciate any and all feedback and comments! If you’re interested in the Leech Lord Borderlands 3 AU, check out my pinned post and the tag on my feed for all the content. 

[tiny-maus-boots]

The Howl pt 18

A/N: sorry this took...well. forever. I didn’t think I was actually going to finish. legit ran out of gas on the final chapter. needless to say after the pressure of real life lessened a hair I felt the need to button this up. For the story, for the readers...and for me. If you’re still reading, thank you so much for sticking it out and staying interested despite my annoyingly long hiatus. This one was a wild ride.

special thank you as always to my beta bestie @chloes-yellow-cup because she always does the thing for me. i honestly don’t know why i’m incapable of posting to ao3 myself. 

18.

She really hadn’t expected her aunt to admit to anything and she wasn’t disappointed. They stared at each other as the coven tittered and whispered amongst themselves. There really was no use in trying to lie about anything at this point, but to The Lady, omission wasn’t really a lie. At least when she was the one doing the omitting. Amélie hadn’t so much as blinked but Aubrey felt that she could leap at them all fangs and fury at any moment and no one would be able to stop her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d ended someone daring to defy her with an unexpected, violent assault.

Aubrey waited for gossiping whispers to stop before she strode forward far more confidently than she felt. She was much stronger now that she and Stacie had given in fully to their bond, but she still didn’t know the extent of all that brute strength and wasn’t at all sure it was enough to go up again her aunt. In her life she had seen a lot of nightmares come to life but none so scary as The Lady in a full tantrum. Something she hadn’t devolved into yet…but the night was young.

“Do you have no suggestion as to who is to blame, Aunt?”

The Lady said nothing, her shrug a bare dip of a shoulder. So be it, if her aunt wouldn’t offer an explanation then they would do it the hard way. Aubrey glanced over her shoulder at Stacie and felt warmth pulse through their connection. There was no way to explain the depth of what she felt when she looked at her mate but the enormity of it made her heart give a shuddered thump. The wolf gave her a wink, flirting even now in the middle of…all this.

Aubrey gave an amused twitch of her lips despite her rolled eyes. Later, love. It was all the promise she could give just then but Stacie’s easy smile told her it was enough. She pulled her attention back to the coven, pacing slowly back and forth in front of them to keep their focus on her. It was a trick she’d learned from her aunt and she could see in the older woman’s eyes that she recognized it for what it was.

“There is a vampire among us that is a threat to the truce with the pack and our very lives. Let me unmask the coward and bring them to justice as I was ordered to do.”

Nisha, one of the twin seers spoke, her voice soft and lilting with a light accent. “You are asking permission you do not actually seek. You’re going to do what you came here to do regardless are you not?”

She gave a slight nod and glanced at her aunt, still silently watching as cold and unmoving as if she were carved from ice. If she were going to stop Aubrey now would be the time. Seconds ticked by and when nothing further passed between them, she turned to point to each coven member she suspected could be the culprit.

“Luca, Santos, Evelyn, Owens, Cassandra, Balen…and you Massimo.”

He had been edging away from the group near the back and outside her periphery, likely hoping to slip into the shadow unseen to escape but he hadn’t counted on the wolves being so vigilant. No less than six wolves surrounded him, blocking any path he might take that didn’t bring him directly to Aubrey. Cynthia Rose snarled and nipped at his heels spurring him forward. It wasn’t an admission of guilt to want to escape but it might as well have been.

“Hey Rover…”

Redd padded a few steps forward and gazed up at her, eyes steady and clear. He had stayed with her the entire way to the cabin and while she wasn’t sure he was ready to let go of his anger entirely he was definitely ready to run at her side.  He gave an annoyed sneeze at the nickname and she smiled, the urge to tug a furred ear playfully too much to resist. She felt the tingle through her connection at the gesture and knew Stacie approved of her bonding with the pack, with Redd in particular.

“If he moves again, kill him.”

Finally, something they could agree on. Redd barked affirmatively, the pack echoing his eagerness, and closed in on Massimo with his ruff bristled and full as he bared his teeth daring the vampire to try sneaking away again. Stacie swaggered toward the waiting vampires and eyed each of them with a measuring weight. Her voice was a soft rumble as she spoke.

“This doesn’t have to be hard unless you wanna make it that way.”

“This is ridiculous! How dare you accuse us, noble born vampires, of being…bitten trash. How dare you bring dogs to our home to threaten us, demanding we bleed for you!” One of the women pushed at Stacie trying to get distance from the Alpha.

“Shut up Evelyn! This is bigger than your ego, all of you. Fools! We have the source of the revenants here and now. We can free ourselves of contagion and move on to the more important business at hand like the treachery at our breast. And you want to quibble over insult? Do you want the wolves to think you are responsible for this blood debt?”

Santos one of the vampires Aubrey had called pulled his sleeve up and slashed at his own forearm, holding it out to Stacie with a haughty defiant air. He flashed his fangs at the others waiting to be judged and waited patiently. Stacie dipped her head in an approving nod and delicately took his arm to take in the scent. The tall brunette stood back, letting his arm go with a shake of her head.

“It’s not him.”

He gave a snort at that and made a mocking bow to the other still resentful vampires. One by one they came forward, Aubrey noting which balked and cast glances toward The Lady silently pleading for intervention. Even if they weren’t guilty, they were too loyal to her Aunt and would be a problem later. Massimo did nothing. He merely stood and waited, staring only at Stacie in a way that made Aubrey want to tear his throat out. Stacie was just reaching for Balen’s proffered arm when the spell of still attentiveness broke and Massimo rushed in a lunge close the spare distance between them.

It was no more than a blink of time and he was prepared to do damage. His fangs lengthened with deadly intent; his head slashing forward ready to sink his teeth into her flesh. Power flared up in Aubrey and she pushed it down the line with force. Stacie’s back straightened and she moved a breath before he would have latched on to her. Massimo stumbled into open air with confusion, his arms closing on nothing leaving him unsure where the wolf had gone. She tapped his shoulder and clasped a hand around his throat when he spun to face her.

“I think someone is a lil eager for a scratch an’ sniff test.” He didn’t need to breathe but that didn’t mean the crushing grip was comfortable. Massimo thrashed wildly, lashing out with clawed hands as he tried to free himself. Stacie only laughed, tightening her grip on his throat before tossing him roughly toward Aubrey. “Care to do the honor, my love?”

Aubrey’s arms went around the man instantly when his back hit her chest as he collided with her. She held him steady as the pack shifted eagerly around them and if she were being honest with herself Aubrey would have to admit that she was enjoying bringing about his end. Massimo twisted in her grip; sharpened nails ready to claw at her face but Redd was ready for him this time. He hadn’t been fast enough to keep up with that lunge toward Stacie but he was making up for it by grabbing onto Massimo’s wrist in his huge jaws, breaking skin, and bone alike. Redd gave a vicious shake of his head as the squirming vampire screamed in pain.

Stacie grabbed the flailing arm when Redd released it and gave the bleeding wound a deep sniff. She pulled back with a sneeze and growled deeply. The ancient vampire struggled in her grip to look at Aubrey’s aunt but Amélie turned her head, willfully ignoring the plea he wouldn’t speak out loud. Vampires skittered back away from them, perhaps fearing for themselves being so close to an infected vampire. Or maybe they didn’t want to be guilty by association. Whatever the reason they gave them room and Aubrey smiled widely. She leaned forward just enough to let her growl roughened whisper carry to his ears.

“You always wanted to know why I would not take your offered hand; it is because the only thing about you that would ever satisfy me…is your final death.”

Stacie’s power flexed and flared and Aubrey heaved Massimo through the air to land in a ring of salivating and snarling wolves. He scrambled back in the snow but could only get so far as they surrounded him. Massimo hissed defiantly and shakily got his feet under him so he would at least have a fighting chance. Rage twisted his sallow features and he snapped his teeth at a wolf that had darted too close for comfort.

“Wait!” The wolves stopped moving but didn’t take their focus from him for one moment. His tone was mocking and bitter. “Amélie!”

Her aunt barely turned her head to look at Massimo, whatever feeling she had for him as her creation was not enough for her to try to save him. The hurt in his face at her rejection quickly turned to hate and he bellowed in rage.

“You may let them bury me Amélie but that will not bury your sins!” Redd and the other wolves surrounding him, closed in closer. They were taunting him, daring him to run or lash out before they scattered his pieces to ash. “Did you never wonder, Aubrey? Who it was that attacked your grandmother in the woods outside her village?”

Aubrey froze at the mention of her grandmother. Anything having to do with her mother’s line was simply not spoken on. The taint of humanity too shameful to discuss even among the members of the coven. Why was he bringing it up now? To what end? She raised her head and levelled a gaze at his crouched form.

“No? Did I ever tell you…you look so much like her…” Power rose like a cresting wave and the wolves eased back only enough for Aubrey to stand among them. Massimo’s voice took on a longing that filled her with disgust. “I could hardly be blamed for it. My maker left me for dead, leaving me wild and alone. And so very…hungry. I admit, I always wondered if you would taste just as sweet.”

Aubrey was not conscious of the rage over taking her control. There was simply deafening silence and the feel of Stacie’s strong arms holding her back as she struggled to reach Massimo. Stacie tipped her head and howled as the pack leapt forward to tear him to shreds. There were too many, too drunk on the moon for him to fight but he tried. Her mate held her lovingly as much as she was containing the furious drive to join the pack.

She couldn’t say what soothing things Stacie whispered in her ear or how long she struggled to get to Massimo. She only knew that the thirst for vengeance still raged inside her, making her chest heave with the strength of its pulse, and giving her the illusion of life.

The coven watched on unmoved as Massimo was torn to shreds until what smoldering ash was left of him rose up on the breeze and the wolves backed up with triumphant yips and barks. More than a few of the vampires were watching her carefully, wondering what she would do with the knowledge that her entire existence was one long and cruel joke.

“I could never figure out why you hated me so much. Now I see. I would always remind you of your mistakes.”

She could feel the growl clawing up from her throat and all she could see was her aunt, haughty and distant. The vampires were whispering again, the sound like an angry hive of bees, buzzing with outrage and betrayal. A soft loose crust of snow crunched under her bare feet as she moved closer to the group.

“Amélie must pay. She put us all jeopardy…” “And who is going to come to collect? You? You’re as afraid of her as the rest of us Luca.”

“Creating a vampire and leaving it, passing it off as pure, hiding its transgressions…it goes against all our laws!”

The whispers ceased as she got closer and all eyes turned to rest on her. Aubrey was not aware of her hand raising, or the slight burn of the lignum vitae handle against her palm. Vampires scattered before her leaving an open path to her aunt. The blade slipped free easily and she raised it to point at The Lady of the coven.

“You have betrayed us. Your lies and deceptions could have killed us all…”

“Ne sois pas si dramatique.” Amélie raised her shoulder in a shrug, dismissing her actions with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t make this more because you’re bitter that I have been hard on you.”

Stacie roared angrily and would have pushed past Aubrey to get to The Lady if Aubrey hadn’t held out an arm to stop her. The coven surged like a bitter resentful wave seeming to swell in size as they hissed angrily.

“This is not about your family issues, Amélie! The coven speaks this night to decide your fate.”

The pack’s baying was an eerie counterpoint to the serpentine slither and hiss of nearly 70 vampires. In the back of her mind she knew this was about the bigger picture as Santos had said but she couldn’t help but take it quite personally. All this time, the taunting, and the abuse, it had never really been about her. It was true that Massimo was the source of the revenants but her aunt had known about it, hidden it even. She had used Aubrey, forcing her to use her bite and her body to gain wealth and powerful favors, and worse she had locked her own twin brother away to suffer in hunger and madness because she couldn’t bear the thought of his true death. Amélie had targeted her for what she represented, the lies she’d told and the pain she had created.

Santos jerked his head in signal and two vampires moved forward to lay hands on The Lady snapping Aubrey out of her thoughts too late to save them. They never saw The Lady move and could never have stopped her even if they had. Her movements were barely a blur but the bodies bursting to ash before they hit the ground was enough of a statement. The nearest to her backed away quickly from the wide arc of Amélie’s sword, wanting to stay out of reach in case she turned her attention to them.

“And who will enforce that fate? You Santos? Or perhaps you Nisha? Or what about…you.” The Lady turned and let her heavy gaze rest on Aubrey. Her blonde head tipped to the side and she raised a crooked finger to beckon her niece forward. “Have you not waited your whole life to face me? Come then, let’s see if you’ve grown into your fangs yet.”

Aubrey didn’t hesitate and leapt forward to press an attack. Each blow she struck fell heavier and harder with each frenzied deflection her aunt managed to raise in time. A quickly swiped parry left her open and her aunt delivered a devastating uppercut that left Aubrey airborne for the span of a few human heartbeats before she crashed heavily into the ground. She sat up as fast as she could and shook her head clear, trying to clear the ringing bells and get her bearings before her aunt could take advantage of her stupor.

She had just gotten her feet under her when there was a yelp and Stacie’s long body came flying into her, taking them both down in a tangle of limbs. Aubrey could hear her aunt laughing evilly as they struggled to stand together. They shared a look, she and her mate, a silent agreement passing between them that they would end this now, together. Stacie’s eyes glowed brighter, the silver ring bright as the moon and as one they turned and sprinted forward.

Amélie was strong but together they were stronger. They matched her speed and agility, ducking and weaving in concerted movement as they struck and parried. Their awareness of each other wasn’t a conscious recognition, the bond between them surged and swayed pulling them along in a violent dance until they had backed The Lady against a tree. Aubrey held the point of her blade to her aunt’s neck, pressing hard enough to make the pale flesh part as the tip of the machete dug in.

“What is the decree of the coven?”

Soft chittering whispers passed behind her back before Luca spoke. “The Greek will be taken care of. And she must suffer the loss of it.”

It was the way he had said ‘taken care of’ that made her pause. Her aunt’s lips moved and the barest flutter of sound came from her. It was more a prayer than a whisper and Aubrey understood why.

“You know what they will do to him…if not for my life, for his…”

She knew what was being asked of her. Sparing her Erasmus would spare her aunt, he would live and Amélie would avoid the pain of suffering. But would what kind of life would it be surrounded by vicious enemies? Stacie growled and leaned a little into Aubrey’s side showing her support quietly. It was her call and she didn’t know what to do. Erasmus had been the only friend she’d had; his suffering wasn’t something she wanted to be responsible for. Seconds passed into minutes and no one uttered a sound until she raised her voice loud enough to be heard by all.

“If you kill him you risk trying to contain an insane vampire. I think I’ve got a better option.”

Aubrey pulled her machete away from her aunt’s throat and drove it into the ground. She wouldn’t need it for a while. As one she and Stacie reached forward and yanked Amélie by they arms to drag her between them. Aubrey kicked open the door to the cabin and gestured to a vampire to open the hidden door behind the fireplace.

The Lady struggled between them, hissing, and spitting like an enraged cat as they dragged her down to the deepest most secure part of the catacombs. Stacie’s breath fogged the deeper they went, the cold settling around them like a weight. She could feel her mate’s curiosity at the edge of her awareness but this was likely the last time either of them would ever see this place. The coven may forgive her from picking the pack over them but they wouldn’t be exactly welcoming back home with open arms. The door to The Lady’s chamber was closed and likely locked with Erasmus inside it. Aubrey gave it a solid kick and it blasted open tearing the hinges from the frame.

Wolves flowed into the space with disapproving growls and sneezes, sniffing out everything until they discovered Erasmus tucked into a corner, his hands resting lightly on his knees. He gave her a resigned smile and stood. What few vampires had followed them looked about with wary curiosity never having seen the inside of this private chamber.

“Is it my time?”

“Not yet. Get the key.”

There was only one key of value and he knew what she was asking for immediately. Erasmus swallowed thickly and moved to the large desk in the corner of the room. She couldn’t see where he had taken it from, likely some secret nook or hidden panel, but it was all she could focus on when he turned around.

“You miserable excuse for…”

Stacie’s backhand blow stopped whatever hateful things The Lady intended to spew. Aubrey gave her mate an adoring look completely out of place for the moment and took the key from Erasmus. It was heavier than she expected as she closed her fingers around it.

“Open the vault.”

He did as told, rushing forward to pull the release mechanism that rolled a large stone bath along a hidden track to reveal a trap door. Erasmus pulled it open and Stacie shoved Amélie unceremoniously through to land in a heap at the bottom. Aubrey raised her brows and glanced at her beloved.

“There’s a ladder.”

“She doesn’t deserve a ladder.”

Stacie cupped her face gently and brought their foreheads together in a light bump. They didn’t have time for more but that one gesture spoke a world of comfort for her. Aubrey nudged her nose against Stacie’s and pulled back to look over their people.

“Everyone out. The less temptation to rise for the better.”

She couldn’t be sure her father would actually rise. He had been locked in a lead casket an exceptionally long time and certainly would be weak from lack of blood. But… her gaze dropped to her aunt’s crumpled form at the bottom of the opening, she looked weak and pitiful. But even weak vampires could be dangerous. Aubrey dropped into the opening and landed lightly, making room for Stacie to land in a crouch at her side. The hatch slammed shut over their heads and they were left in the dark.

“Should have maybe asked for a flashlight…”

Aubrey chuckled at Stacie’s grumble and reached behind her to feel on the wall for a switch. Lights came on in a soft amber glow, ringing a raised platform where a coffin rested. Stacie leapt up onto the dais and trailed a hand along the ornate lid, rapping with a knuckle in a joking knock.

“Hey pop in law, guess who baby girl brought home for dinner?” Amélie had backed away to the furthest wall she could but it would never be far enough away from her guilt. “Can he hear us?”

“Yes.”

She gave a nod and fit the violet shaped key into the locking mechanism. Each turn releasing another bolt in the long line along the edge of the coffin. Aubrey could feel power, light as a faint echo and she knew he was there, listening and waiting.

“Good. Brought ya a visitor, figured you’d like to have words with the woman that caused all your misery…”

Stacie dropped down to the ground and grabbed The Lady roughly, yanking her to the casket. Whatever fight had been in her had fled above ground. Now faced with her sentence she seemed…. broken. It was pitiful but she just couldn’t bring herself to have pity on her aunt. Aubrey gave a final twist of the lock and fit her fingers under the edge of the lid to lift. She took a breath to prepare herself and gave Stacie a short nod that was quickly returned before raising the lid.

She had never seen her father in person so she didn’t know what to expect, certainly not the youthful face he’d worn when he’d been locked in there. But she hadn’t expected a corpse so dried and decayed that she feared a good wind would blow it to dust.

“Papa…”

His eyes opened suddenly and they all gasped at the shock of it. Pale green orbs blinked slowly at her, recognition filtering through the haze of slumber and insanity. It was all the first meeting she was going to get before he remembered what hunger was. Aubrey stepped back as Stacie pushed Amélie into the casket and slammed the lid shut. There was a silence for a second before a raucous yowl rose from inside the metal box. Aubrey worked quickly to twist the key and seal it as it rocked precariously on its pedestal.

 A loud bang startled them both into taking a step back, prepared for the lid to blow completely off with the force of the fight within. Aubrey gave the key in her hand one last long look before tucking it away in her pocket and backing away from her father’s resting place to the ladder. Stacie wrapped warm arms around her and she sank into the comforting hug for a minute before the urge to get out of there overwhelmed them both and they scrambled up.

The heavy hatch gave way as soon as Aubrey pushed and she and Stacie wiggled out of the vault with breathless relief. As soon as they were free, she kicked the trap door shut and pulled the lever to slide the tub back into place. Aubrey sagged against the wall, her back to the room leaving her unable to see whatever had made her mate go still and alert.

“Uh…babe?”

Aubrey turned slowly and blinked at the vampires filling the once inner sanctum of The Lady of the coven. Her hand twitched with the reflex to reach for her machete even though she knew it was still outside. Santos stepped toward them boldly and raised his chin full of arrogance and she expected that this would be the part where they told her to leave and never return if she valued her life.

“My Lady.”

He folded himself gracefully in a subservient pose and lowered his head. It caused a cascading ripple as others followed suit. It took everything in her not to look back at the trap door expecting her aunt to be there demanding obeisance. Amélie was gone, trapped forever in a prison she couldn’t free herself of. And then it dawned on her that he was referring to her.

“Think they’re scared of ya, babe.”

Aubrey blinked at Stacie and took the brunette’s outstretched hand to lead her through the ranks of vampires all on bent knee. It was surreal and a hair too much for her to process at the moment. More than anything she wanted to be back with the pack, at home in garage Stacie had made a den. She wanted to be with her family away from this place where only the dead dwelled.

“They’re scared of us…” A loud booming howl reverberated through the corridors and Aubrey smiled predatorily. “And they should be.”

[mypoisonedvine]

I've had this idea for a fanfic and was wondering if you'd be up for writing something where the reader is a princess or royal and Jaskier saves her life. Maybe they have to hide out together for a bit and they fall in love while Jask helps her get back home. Of course since hes not a royal they're not supposed to be together but I was thinking either they sneak around or her claims her as "payment" for saving her life. Sorry its kinda detailed, feel free to change it up, and thank you!

Thank you so much for this prompt, I had a lot of fun with it!  And I’m sorry this took so freaking long!

Okay so.  I apologize in advance for the aggressive thirstiness of this one but like…………. I’m a red-blooded woman with NEEDS.  I wanted to subvert the idea of the shy, chaste princess a lil bit that’s all. Sorry anon I assume that you were picturing something fluffier, and I do think it's still very sweet, just has plenty of spice as well lol.  Reader in I Never Danced is a rule follower so I wanted to stretch my legs and do something more… chaotic?  This reader is a sex-loving promiscuous icon and we stan!  Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy :) 

 For the Love of a Princess (a Jaskier x royal!reader oneshot)

Rating: E (smut and violence- attempted kidnapping/murder but no gore)Word count: 3.6kTaglist: @100percentamess who has asked to be tagged in everything so here you go lol

The last few weeks had been rather peculiar for you.  First, your father declared war on a neighbouring country, which meant everything was more stressful.  Then, there were rumors of a witcher in town, and you found it exciting but everyone else was acting nervous and superstitious.  Finally, you had to attend some boring banquet and who would show up but the witcher himself, with his bard in tow?

See, you're the kind of woman who gets what she wants: it's a side effect of being a princess.  Spoiled?  Not necessarily.  Just determined.  And when you heard that this bard Jaskier had a reputation and you saw him flash a wink and a smile at you during his song, you suddenly found something new that you wanted.

Sadly, with so many people around, you couldn't really make your move.  If anyone caught you trying to drag someone- let alone a near stranger- back to your quarters, your father would surely have your head, or worse: send you off to become a nun.

It must have been the hustle of the crowds, then, that let the assassin sneak in.  

You noticed something was strange as soon as you entered your room.  Sadly, by that point it was already too late: someone grabbed you from behind, covering your mouth and lifting you off the ground.  You screamed but of course it was muffled by the gloved hand.  You bit down on it, hard, and you heard a grunt as the hand pulled back.  Seeing your opportunity, you swung your elbow back and hit him in the ribs.  He was forced to let go and you fell to the ground.  Before you could get up, though, he was already grabbing your ankles and dragging you backwards.  You clawed at the ground but since there was an ornate rug covering the stone, all you did was pull it with you and wrinkle it.  Kicking and flailing desperately while he tried to grab you, you finally managed to land a kick to the groin.  He keeled over and you made a run for the door but he reached out and tripped you.  You didn't fall completely, but as you tried to regain your balance he was already standing again.  He lunged forward and you dodged, but as you walked backwards to get away from him, you realized that he had you trapped: to your left, the bed, to your right, the wall.  There was a window, but you even if you could manage to dash past him, you would never survive the fall.  Just as you tried to shield yourself with your arms, you looked up at the man and heard a roar, but it wasn’t coming from him: something smashed him over the head, and as he stumbled to the side from the blow, you saw Jaskier behind him, wielding a ruined lute.

As the assassin fell, he tripped over a fold in your rug and tumbled out the window with a yell.  You dashed to it, looking down to make sure your attacker was dead.  You winced when you saw him; since you were on the fifth floor, it didn’t take a physician to realize he was, in fact, definitely dead. 

You turned back to look at Jaskier with wide eyes. “You saved my life,” you whispered, astounded.

“I suppose so,” he agreed.

You were both panting, trying to catch your breath from the physical stress and fear and shock, and you looked at him, and he looked at you, and you wondered if both of you were having the same exact idea at the same exact time; you must have, because just as you ran towards him, he ran to you, and you kissed him with such hunger, nearly anger, all teeth and tongue and grabbing at clothes and pulling hair.  

“Take me, now,” you demanded, pulling both of you back towards the bed until you fell on it, and him on top of you.

“Yes,” he hissed in agreement, moving down to kiss and bite at your neck.  Your fingers dug into his biceps, and your legs wrapped around his hips as he pushed up the many layers of your skirt.  His hands were strong and calloused, but his touch was delicate and gentle as he ran his fingers up your legs.  You prayed he wouldn’t tease you because you didn’t think you could stand it, and thankfully your prayers were answered as his hands pulled away to open his trousers.  He must’ve made quick work of them because just a moment later you felt him plunge into you, without so much as a warning, stretching and filling you- just as you’d wanted.  The noise you made was unlike anything else: a scream, a moan, a growl, and a whimper all at once.  As soon as he was inside you he was pulling back and thrusting in at a punishing pace, fast and deep and hard enough that he had to hold you down to keep your body from moving across the bed.  

You reached up to push off his doublet, leaving only a chemise which exposed more of his chest and arms.  He smiled and licked his lips, grabbing the neckline of your dress and pulling it down, nearly ripping the fabric as your breasts were freed.  You yelped in surprise but it quickly turned to a moan as he dropped down to kiss along your neck and shoulders and collarbones and breasts until you were writhing under him desperately.  

He leaned back and moved your legs onto his shoulders.  The sight of your feet up in the air and his face between your knees was really something, especially when he turned his head to the side to leave teasing bites on your leg.  Your back arched as he leaned forward, folding you in half under him.  You screamed, properly, as you felt his cock pushed so deep inside of you, deeper than you even knew was possible.  It pushed against something inside you that made your whole body quiver, made you cry out with every movement until you felt tears welling at the corners of your eyes: not from pain, just from the intensity of the sensation.  His thumb wiped the tear away as it fell, and you were afraid he would think he had hurt you or that you didn't want this, so you decided to make yourself abundantly clear.

"Jaskier, don't stop," you commanded, "please don't stop, fuck."

"I won't stop," he promised.  You were already so close; you wanted more than anything to see him lose control, and to know that it was because of you.

"Please, please, come for me," you begged as you looked up at him, "Gods, I need you to come inside me."

"Fuck," Jaskier whispered.

"You feel amazing, baby, you're so fucking good," you continued.

"Where'd you learn to talk like that?" he asked, but you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and you knew he couldn't keep his cool much longer.

"Not all princesses are so sheltered," you smirked.

"Oh, I'm well aware," he quipped, "but they're all supposed to be."

"I like doing things I'm not supposed to," you smiled up at him.

"I noticed," he replied with a wink.  He was really good at winking.  Maybe a shallow or silly thing to decide to pursue a man over, since it's what attracted you to him in the first place, but clearly your tastes had served you well because he was about to make you come.  

"I'm close, gods, I’m going to-” you began.

“Come for me,” he interrupted, or maybe just finished what you were going to say.

At that point you stopped really paying attention to what you were saying, but there was definitely a lot of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ mixed in.  It was more important to you to focus on the sounds he was making- they were even more beautiful than his singing.  

~

A few months had passed, and all the while you and Jaskier courted in secret.  In fact, you were currently on a romantic date: he had you pressed against the wall of a secluded linen closet, your cheek pushed into the cold stone as he grabbed your hips for stability while he thrusted into you.

"So tight," he whispered into your ear. "I'm sure I wouldn't fit if you weren't so fucking wet all the time."

"I'm not wet all the time," you corrected, "just when you're around."

"Fuck," was his only reply.

"I'm close," you alerted him, but you regretted it as he decided to use this as a learning opportunity.

"Beg me for it," he demanded, "or I'll stop."

You scoffed, not thinking him capable of that restraint.  That was a mistake, as he instantly pulled out and your body ached without him.

"No," you whined, "please." 

You arched your back and tried to press yourself into him but he kept backing away so you couldn't reach.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, hoping to get back on his good side, but it wasn't enough.

"You know what you need to do," he smiled against the back of your neck as he started to kiss and bite you there: the feeling ran straight through you to your insides which clenched around nothing.

"I want you, please, I want your cock inside me," you began.  That earned you a squeeze from the hand around your hip but not much else.

"Gods, I need it, Jaskier, please," you whined, "I need you."  He kissed down to your shoulder but stopped there, still refusing to give you what you wanted.  You felt the words spilling out of you, your need for him apparently bypassing that part of your brain that filters what you say before you say it.

"I love you, Jaskier; I've fallen in love with you," you finally revealed, not even really meaning to say it.  It worked though, as he spun you around to face him and forced his way back into you.  You cried out, grabbing the back of his neck while he lifted your legs to wrap around him.

"Truly?" he asked quietly as he peppered kisses along your neck.

"Completely," you responded. "Do you love me?"

"Gods, of course," he laughed, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he continued to drive into you. "I've loved you since I met you.  And only found ways to love you more with each passing day."

"Please don't stop," you begged.

"The fucking or the talking?" he clarified.

"Both," you answered.

“You’re so beautiful,” he continued, his words interrupted with kisses along your neck and chest and shoulders, “and smart, and kind.  It’s impossible not to be in love with you.”

You smiled, though you were blushing as well.

“I’m sure everyone who knows you is in love with you just as much as I am- certainly anyone who, er, knows you as well as I do.  To be euphemistic,” he smirked. “What I’m not sure of is why you keep me around, when any man would be falling over himself just to kiss your hand.”

“You’re wondering why I keep you around?  I’m about to come in a linen closet, what’s not to love?” you quipped.  You felt him smile against your skin, but his voice sounded a little concerned.

“It’s not just that though, right?  You have more use for me than sex?”

“You certainly have entertainment value,” you smirked.

He frowned.

“And you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met who never fails to make me laugh.  Is that what you wanted to hear?”  You tried to stay it with some sense of begrudgement but it was difficult when he was still fucking you- which is what you’d asked for, so no complaints there- and when you were so overcome with your feelings for him.

“Yes,” he smiled, “though I want to hear you say that you love me again.”  Of course he couldn’t just ask you for that, he had to push deeper into you, making you nearly scream it out.

“I love you, Jaskier, fuck, I love you,” you moaned.

“How long?” he pressed, biting on your neck lightly as he started to drive into you even faster.

“So long, gods, I feel like I can’t remember a time that I didn’t.  I can’t remember what it’s like to not need to be near you all the damn time,” you answered through gritted teeth.

It began to feel like an interrogation, though a very pleasurable one.  “How did you know you loved me?” 

“Fuck, Jaskier!” you protested, barely able to form sentences when you were so close to orgasm. “You were playing a song, and everyone was looking at you, and you looked so good, and you sounded so good, and I suddenly realized it.  I don’t know how I knew.  I just- fuck- I just thought to myself ‘I didn’t know I could care about somebody this much.’”

He kissed you, deep and slow and burning with a passion that felt entirely different from what you expected.  You came and it hit you like a bolt of lightning, your body quivering under his touch.  Your moans were lost against his lips, and you felt that he was there with you, finding his own release just as he brought you to yours.  When you both started to slow your breathing as you calmed down from the powerful high, he relaxed his grip on your thighs, letting your legs find their way back to the floor.  

"We should marry," he suggested as you shifted your dress back into position.

"Proposings of marriage are less trustworthy when they're seconds after orgasm," you frowned.

"No, I've thought about it before now," he explained. "I've thought about it a lot."

"Then you must've remembered that I'm expected to marry a king or prince."

"Yes," he sighed. “Your father likes me, I think.”

“I don’t know if he likes you that much,” you murmured.

“But he cares for you, and if he understood how much I love you…” Jaskier trailed off, taking your hands in his, looking at you with eyes that beamed with hope.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t understand how much you love me.  Or how often,” you considered with wide eyes.

“Please,” he interjected desperately, his hands squeezing yours a bit, “think about it.  I want to spend my life with you.”

“Julian,” you replied, your voice much softer, one hand leaving his grasp to comb through his hair, “all I want is to say yes.  I just don’t know that I can.”

“You can,” he encouraged.  “You may be royalty but you’re not property.”

“It’s easier for you to say when the approval of your family isn’t on the line,” you deflected.

“Then we’ll marry in secret.  Or I’ll find some way to become a king, I don’t know,” he smiled.

“That’s preposterous,” you scoffed.

“Nothing could be more preposterous, more outrageous, more unbelievable, than you and I not being together,” he whispered, stepping closer.  

You kissed him, smiling into it, and you were sort of scared because you had no idea what to do with feelings like this, but you felt safe as long as Jaskier was with you.

~

You sat beside your father, sitting through one of the worst royal duties imaginable: meetings!  You just had to be upright in your throne, looking all royal and stuff, while the people rich enough to make audience with the King took turns popping in and usually complaining about something that they were too lazy to fix themselves.  

If anything could get your attention now, the only thing, it would be-

Your posture changed completely when you saw Jaskier enter the room.  You could tell he’d worn the nicest thing he owned; he was wringing his hands, looking around the room with a shifting gaze.

“Jaskier!” your father announced with a grin. “I didn’t expect to see you here.  Is this some sort of impromptu performance?  Where is your lute?”

“Your majesty,” he answered with a quick bow, “I am actually here for your audience, not as a musician.”

Your eyes went wide.  This was his genius plan?  You nearly felt sick you were so nervous.

“What is it, boy?” your father prompted.

“Well, I’ve come to ask you for something,” he explained. 

“Spit it out then!”

“I’ve come to ask for the princess’ hand in marriage!” Jaskier replied suddenly, louder than before.

There was a brief moment of silence, but it felt like hours.  It ended when your father began to laugh.

“This is ridiculous!” the king guffawed.  You felt your cheeks grow hot.

“It’s true,” Jaskier replied firmly, puffing up his chest as he glanced at you briefly, “I’ve fallen in love with her.”

“Yes, well,” he scoffed in reply, “my daughter is a fair and gentle maiden.  I’m sure she has plenty of potential suitors who only wished they could take her hand.  The difference is that they have the foresight not to barge in and ask me for my only child!”  He stood up, face red with anger, and addressed the guards.  “Get this fool out of here!”

You stood up too, grabbing your father’s shoulders just as the soldiers started to drag Jaskier away by the arms.

“Papa, no!” you begged.

“Silence, girl,” he scolded.

“Unhand him!” you yelled to the guards, who obeyed- perhaps a little too well, dropping Jaskier onto the floor.

You looked back at your father, who was looking at you in confusion.

“What is this?!” he asked incredulously.

“I love him as well, father,” you answered with confidence, even though inside you were absolutely terrified.

“WHAT?!” he bellowed.

“We’re in love,” you replied, turning to give Jaskier a smile.  He looked back at you with a look that made your heart melt.

“Blasphemy!” your father cried out. “What are you doing?” he asked as he turned to the guards again, “I said to get him out of here!”

They picked him up from the floor and continued dragging him towards the door, ignoring his stuttered attempts to explain himself.

“Stop!” you yelled as you stole the sword from the guard beside you, jumping down the steps and running to Jaskier’s aid, holding the weapon out to the neck of one of the soldiers.

“I order you to unhand this man,” you growled, “and I beg you not to test me.”

They hesitated, but after a moment, Jaskier was dropped onto the stone again.

“Ow!” he complained. “Worst proposal ever!”

You helped him up off the ground, wrapping an arm around him and using the other to hold the stolen sword in a defensive position.

“Father,” you said sternly, “I love this man.  I intend to take him as my husband.  I will do so here, as princess of this land, before the gods and my people; or, if you refuse, I will do so in the forest, alone, and spend the rest of my days running from my own armies and living the life of a peasant.”

You felt his gaze on you, but you were too focused on what you were saying to look back at him.  You couldn’t read the king’s face very well but there was definitely shock present there.

“I’d be happy either way,” you sighed. “So, it’s up to you, father.  Have your choice.”

The next silence that came was even longer than the last one.  Your father slowly stepped down, walking towards the both of you.  Though you weren’t sure exactly of his intentions, you dropped your sword.  Instantly the guards rushed towards Jaskier again, but the king raised his hand, silently ordering them to stop.  When he finally stood in front of you, he took your face in his hands.

“My daughter,” he smiled sweetly, tears welling in his eyes. “You’re so like your mother.  She’d be so proud of you.  If only she could see you now, all grown up...”

You felt a tear run down your own cheek as well. 

“If only she could be here, for your wedding day,” he added.  You ran into an embrace, and he held you close, and in that hug there was a silent understanding between you, things that neither of you were strong enough to say, but that you didn’t need to anymore.

“My son!” he said to Jaskier, pulling him into the hug as well as the bard let out a little squeak from the perhaps-semi-aggressive grab. 

“I- I’m flattered by your approval, your Grace, if a little surprised,” Jaskier stammered.

“If my daughter loves you, truly, then I love you as well.  But if you think this puts you in line for the throne or gives you any political power, you can keep dreaming!” he sing-songed in a fake-sweet voice.

~

It was a beautiful ceremony.  Silk banners on every alcove, stained glass windows, and flowers everywhere: mostly dandelions.  Your dress took months to be made, with embroidered florals and precious gems decorating the entire (ridiculously long) train.  You wore your mother’s wedding tiara, but Julian told you later that your eyes sparkled brighter, like the poetic dork he was.  He looked great in royal clothes as well, though the fur cape was a bit much in your opinion.  The reception was even better: the entire kingdom celebrated with festivals across the cities, and the merriment went on for days with feasts and dancing and lots of music.

All that said, you had a lot more fun at the honeymoon.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Give Your Wife a Dog

A lil ficlet for @kiwi--bot  featuring our Destiny oc’s being soft together.

Summary: In which Trojan gives Lilith a puppy and thinks back on old traditions of giving your loved one a puppy could lead to so much more and how much of a simp in love with her he is.

Reblogs > Likes

Though this post is SFW, this blog is not! Minors please do not follow but this post is okay to interact with!

Fandom: Destiny 2

Relationship: Lilith Daemon (Oc)/Trojan-13 (Oc)

Warnings: SFW, no warnings to apply!

Words: 2.4k

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Not wanting to be a Guardian was where they had bonded.  

When they had first met, Trojan had been freshly rebooted. He knew a few things would always be the same. He always found his way back to the Crucible, back to  Shaxx’s  side to help him officiate for rookies and keep people on their toes. He would always find a fondness in lost ghosts without their guardian to have. He would always kindly find ways to tell Zavala that he would not be participating in the Guardian duties.  

But that last time had thrown him for a loop. All the same, except  Shaxx  had grasped his shoulder firmly and guided the  exo  titan to the side. “Trojan, my friend. Always a pleasure to see you ready to fight! But...I have a better task for you for now.”  Shaxx  had spoken with kindness, his voice dropping to a softer tone, and Trojan knew it was going to be a task he would take with pride.  

Lilith.  

~Rest under the cut~

Even her name sent embers down his back. Warming him deep within his circuitry. Her Light was the brightest he’d ever witnessed, her solar energy humming throughout her glowing tattoos and eyes. The way she bared her teeth in a sneer and staked her authority around her as if she didn’t realize she was so much smaller than those around her. A pitbull in a world of mastiffs. Yet, if anyone was the dog here, it was Trojan. Nothing but a pup under her heel or under her steely gaze of golden light.  

She was an awoken warlock trained directly under the hand of Ikora. Trojan didn’t know her full story, only that Shaxx had guided him to her in a way of companionship. Lilith had been a Guardian during the wars when she was needed, but she did other things Trojan wasn’t familiar with. Gathering intel and data on all wildlife, foliage, flora, and creatures habiting all the planets they were to visit. She’s the one who wrote everything down, found weaknesses, how plants could be useful, all uploaded into the database everyone used.  

Shaxx had explained he worried for her. She kept to herself, even on her planetary visits. She was a hard fighter, but on her last visit, she’d gotten tangled up with an unidentified entity and her ghost had been the one concerned enough to bring it up that maybe she needed a second just to watch her back.  

Trojan had taken to his mission dutifully. At first it had been for Shaxx, but then he’d been with Lilith and watched her in action. Anytime he offered his assistance or so much as took one step ahead of her, Lilith would huff and snap at him and grumble her way through it. Trojan couldn’t help but like her attitude- but a lone wolf? Lone wolves in a world like theirs never made it out alive.  

And her light? He planned to bask in it for a long, long time.  

Snooks, his own ghost, always complained to him that he was wasting his time. Snooks would roll his eye dramatically, enough to make his entire body twirl with the effort, whenever Trojan would sigh longingly and merely say that he would befriend her. She just was shy!  

All the way up until he got to see her compete in the crucible himself. To where the first time he’d won against her through a hair alone, she’d pushed her white curls from her face, her eyes dangerously narrowed across the dropship and warned him he would not get so lucky next time.  

That night he had spent in bed, hugging his own pillow and rolling like a teenage girl with Snooks groaning at his lovey dovey antics.  

It took years of companionship and rivalry, of misunderstandings before Lilith had been the one to snap at him. Trojan had never seen her show so much emotion as he looked down at her. She was so small, reaching just beneath his chest and her hands moving frantically as she spoke. “What ARE we?! You claim me as friend- you speak of me as friend, a-and then?! Then you try and hold my hand?! Are you trying to embarrass me in front of my mentor? Do you take me for a fool?!”  

Each word had made her light burn brighter, to the point Trojan thought her hair would become filled with the fire within her heart. She questions him calling her a friend, calling her his closest friend. Lost in translation, as he had learned. But he will never forget her face when he dropped to his knees to be at her height, seeing golden tears slipping down her cheeks as he so gingerly took her lavender hand within his ones of metal. Murmuring so softly that he had never meant to hurt her, that he would walk off the ends of the world for her, that he had wanted her as more than just a fuck buddy. More than a companion.  

Trojan is lucky to have her in his life, he thinks now when he wakes up to see her arms encircling his waist and her face tucked into his shoulder with her hair sprawled around them. He is lucky, he thinks, to wake up in her warmth and bask in her light. Her own ghost, Kaiden, takes quite a liking to Snooks in turn, but Snooks is ever the brat and always scoffs his direction. But Trojan likes to think that even his own ghost could appreciate the light they both provided.  

But, recently, Trojan’s been wondering how he might surprise her.  

She’d always talked about her interest in war beasts. When she’d get to speaking about her work- the one topic he used to only be able to get her to talk lengths on- about how war beasts were one of the hardest to research since the Cabal completely modified their behaviors. How she’d need a pup in order to be able to study them further and see how they actually were and what wasn’t just trained behavior through a handler.  

Well. By the Light, Trojan was going to get her a damn war beast.  

And he does. Going out to the EDZ and arranging with Devrim for what it is exactly he’s looking for. Devrim gives him a look up and down, a smirk playing on his lips when he asks if he’s doing it for someone in particular. Trojan only smiles, his inner circuitry fluttering when he speaks. “Yes. Is for girlfriend, Lilith. Want to see her smile.”  

And that’s how he acquires a war beast pup. It’s maybe only as big as a bulldog, its harsh razored scales not acquired yet with only smooth red skin. Its claws haven’t even grown in, only practically huge paws on its smaller body with its sharp teeth looking too big for its mouth. It doesn’t snarl or growl, instead it gets rather excited to be picked up. Its entire body wiggling with its stubby tail.  

Hiding it is the hardest part. Especially when he wants to surprise her.  

When he goes to her quarters, using the key he had been given, he calls for her only to be called back to  to  let him know where she was. He travels her plant filled home, past the vast bookcases and framed items as he makes his way to her studying room. Lilith is sat there at her desk, an arched window overlooking the city and the Traveler. Her curly hair is pulled up into a messy bun atop her head, white curls framing her face and her armor exchanged for comfortable at home clothing. She must not have changed from this morning, going straight to work judging by her state.  

A strap of her black tanktop slides off one of her tattooed shoulders, his optics following down to the flex of her bicep when she reaches to grab a different colored pencil. One of her legs is bouncing, covered by gray sweatpants that are thin enough for him to see the dull golden pulse of her ribbon tattoos going up her legs.  

She’s always a sight, even from behind. Her solar energy fills the room with warmth as the plants in the room reach for her as if her light was enough to fuel them. Trojan thinks he might relate to them in that way as well.   

Kaiden happily hovers around her head, peeking over her shoulder and remarking about colorations. When Lilith groans, he croons back at her and presses his round body against her cheek. “Awww, are you cranky? It’s probably because you haven’t seen Trojan all day, huh?”  

“I am cranky because you are being insufferable.” Lilith huffs back, despite raising her manicured hand to gently cup around his body to press Kaiden softly to her cheek in her own way of hugging him back.  

Trojan’s insides become fluttery at the sight of her so open with herself. No leathers, no knives, no malice from her lips despite her own words. Her relaxed posture and surrounded by the plant life and books she loved so dearly. Trojan could sigh at the very sight of her. He would kill for her, he would die for her, he would throw himself at her feet if it would make her happy.  

He thinks he loves her.  

With that thought in mind, he clears his throat, rapping his knuckles on the wall and watching her pointed ears perk right up with a soft jingle to her piercings. She turns in her chair to see him, but Kaiden beats her to the punch as he happily twirls about the air and starts swirling around Trojan’s head. “Oh,  loverboy!!!!~ We have missed you SO much! Isn’t that right, Lilith? Go on, tell the big guy! Go on!”

The look Lilith gives her poor ghost is one that could kill. But, regardless, she stands to greet him and Trojan does his best not to feel disappointed when she adjusts her top to not expose so much of herself. “Hi, little one,” She speaks so softly towards him, her low voice sending his circuitry running high and the nodes on his cheeks flashing as a flustered emotion warms his heart. “Snooks sent me the message that you have something for me?”   

Curse his ghost.  

“Ah! Yes. Was meant to be surprise.” It’s said pointedly at his ghost with a glare, but Snooks just happily hums, looking about the room and not even turning to face his Guardian. However, Trojan clears his throat, stepping towards Lilith until they’re a short distance away.   

From there, he takes her hand within his own, lifting it to his mouth plate to press it fondly there. It never ceases to amaze him when she flushes violet, a huff falling from her full lips in that little embarrassed way she got. Trojan is very well aware  now  if he were to do this in public that she would flip him over her shoulder and slam him to the ground. But, can you really blame him for not exactly hating it in the slightest?  

Before she can ask, he holds out his hand to transmat the flower he had stored. One from Earth when he was visiting Devrim. A beautiful red camellia gently tucked into her messy bun after being shown to her. She’s smart, he knows this, and he knows one of the many languages she knows is flowers. Just seeing her turn violet again all the way to her now perked up ears makes his entire body warmed when all she can do is huff in a flustered manner up at him. “If you do not stop being sappy, I shall be forced to throw you to the ground again.”  

“Speak as if threat. Would like to see again, if willing.” Trojan grins back, making his stance more open for if she so wished. He knows it’s an empty threat, simply just Lilith being unused to this attention. He is unsure who harmed her to make her so skittish in this way, but he swears to both the Traveler and by his own honor, that he would make her smile and laugh openly with him.  

One day.  

“Flower is not surprise. Have other for you, little phoenix. You will like more.” Trojan clears his throat after a moment, soon guiding her to her own living room where said war beast pup was in its kennel. It makes a happy noise upon seeing Trojan, much like a trill as its entire stubby body wags.  

Lilith’s eyes light up and her hands go over her mouth in such a genuine reaction that warms his heart. “I. ..where  did you...?” Her voice is so soft as she drops to her knees to the kennel. She looks nervous as she offers her hand to the bars. The war beast pup happily sniffs at it noisily before its entire body wags again, pawing at the door as Lilith turns her head back and up to look at Trojan with such a soft facial expression.  

He thinks he loves her, he thinks again.  

“Friend helped. Lilith say pups hard to find. I find.” Trojan speaks in a proud tone, watching her head turn back to the pup who makes a soft growling noise when she unhooks the lock cautiously. It happily launches at her, pressing its face into her belly and clambering with its huge paws to get into her lap.  

Hearing her laugh so genuinely makes Trojan cover his mouth to stop from saying anything that might make her never make that sound again. Able to see her grin to show off her sharp canines and dimples, her eyes narrowing as she scratches at the softly scaled belly of the pup who wiggles in her lap happily.  

When the Earth was habited by humans alone, back in their past of past lives, there was an old saying of giving your loved one a dog.  

Trojan can’t help but wonder if a war beast pup suited as a good  substitute  as he watches Lilith come out of her shell a little to roll onto the floor and onto her back to mimic the pup and smile at it with soft croons from her lips as it wags its entire body at her.  

He knows he loves her,  he thinks one final time with a smile.  

[hiddendreamer67]

Mandy in the Multiverse

Summary: Mandy the writer witch doesn’t know what to write for her prompt, so she goes searching back through her plethora of AUs for inspiration and accidentally stumbles into a few others as well.

(Shoutout to @callboxkat, @lefaystrent and @delimeful for letting me reference their works in this!)

October prompt #23: Witchcraft.

Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Mandy sighed, laying on her back and tossing her pen in the air to catch again. It was dull, lacking the usual shine of inspiration. It seemed she was quickly burning through her magic supply this month. 

Her eyes traveled over to the portal, humming in the corner. Several portals, actually. An entire wall of infinite portals, each leading into a different dimension she had created. But what did it matter? All the portals in the world wouldn’t help the young witch find a good story idea. She needed a new portal.

Mandy paused, catching her pen one last time. Or…she could always do a sequel. And for that, a quick lil’ inspiration trip wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“I’ll just pop in for a second.” Mandy grinned, already grabbing her cloak and sprinting through one at random.

A bright light flashed, forcing her to cover her eyes. She blinked the spots from her vision, peering around to find… a pet shop?

“Oh, tiny mers.” Mandy hummed, walking through the aisle ways. “Not exactly original, but-”

“Can I help you, gurl?” Remy the sales clerk interrupted her musing.

“Oh, hey Remy.” Mandy gave a disinterested wave, not even looking over as she peered into the empty tanks. She sighed. “Man, this is so boring. There’s not even anything happening here. Well, except with the cats.”

“We don’t sell cats.” Remy informed her.

“I know.” Mandy adjusted her cloak. She didn’t feel like walking all the way over to Picani’s place of residence just to see the shredded remains of Logan clinging to life, that’d just be depressing. “Don’t worry about it.” Without another word she twirled on her feet, the scenery swapping once more. 

“Alright, where we headed?” Mandy rubbed her hands together, looking around to try and get the lay of the land. It was a wide open field, which didn’t give her many clues- that is, until she saw how dead the grass was and the hole left behind by what must’ve been a beanstalk.

“Aww, I missed it?” Mandy groaned. She looked around, seeing nobody at the bottom of the stalk either. “Well this sucks.  I can’t even tell if this is Virgil’s or Patton’s story. Why does the beanstalk have to come down, anyway? Just let it stay up and eventually consume all the water on Earth.” 

That was an idea, maybe. But today was not the day for mythical eco-terrorism. Instead with a sigh Mandy twirled again, crossing her fingers. “Please something fun, please something fun-”

Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed when she opened her eyes to see generic apartment number 3. “Darn it, just a borrower story.” 

There was a quiet clattering behind her. Mandy turned, seeing a very startled human Logan standing in the kitchen. “I- how- what did you say?”

“Oh dear.” Mandy winced. Logan was always the one with too many questions, no matter the universe. “Um, a borrower? Tiny person about yeigh high?” Mandy held out her hands for scale. “You might have one already in a cage. That, or they’re still in the walls. I don’t really know what stage you’re at.”

Logan’s eyes widened, turning a deadly pale. He glanced back at the living room door anxiously, leaning forwards and lowering his voice. “How much do you know about the little mouse men?”

“The mouse men?” Mandy wrinkled her nose in confusion. Since when did Logan call borrowers ‘mouse men’? That sounded more like Littles, and the only story she knew with Littles was…

Mandy gasped, smacking a hand to her cheek. “This is Kat’s story!” She excitedly whispered. The witch looked down at her own hands in awe, having not been aware she could even do that. “Oh my goodness I could see Littles. Wait should I? What if I break something? No, I shouldn’t, they’re all so depressed right now, and Kat’s Littles are always so skittish.”

“Cat? What’s this about a cat?” Logan was frantically trying to keep up with her logic, to no avail.

“Don’t worry about it.” Mandy said hastily. “Tell them I say hi. Wait don’t, forget you saw anything. Okay. I love you. Bye.”

With these parting words Mandy spun away, eager to get out before she ruined over a year’s worth of careful planning. But this opened a newfound realm of possibilities; what were her limits? How far could she go? She eagerly focused her energy away from her own stories, trying to see if she could breach the wall again.

“...oh great. Another Remy.” Mandy sighed, opening her eyes.

“Gurl you better check yourself before you shrek yourself.” Remy judged her, taking a long sip from his cup. 

Mandy glanced around, taking in the house in disarray. There was a strange amount of potato chip bags and binoculars. On a notebook was a list labelled ‘Vampires?’ where Logan’s name had been written, crossed out, rewritten, repeat.

“Is this Lefay’s Welcome to the Neighborhood fic?” Mandy guessed.

“Yup.” Remy nodded. Mandy wasn’t even surprised Remy had that knowledge; he was some sort of demon of the night anyways here. Or something.

“Good.” Mandy nodded as well. “So I can’t break anything.” 

“Bold of you to assume you’re worthy enough to derail this plot.” Remy raised an eyebrow. “Where you headed?”

“I dunno.” Mandy shrugged, leaning against the couch. She cringed, feeling something sticky beneath her. “I mean not that you lovable trash raccoons aren’t, er, great… but I was kinda aiming for Delimeful.”

“The tiny dragon one?” Remy asked.

Mandy nodded. “I wanna introduce Puff to my dragon Virgil. Who isn’t really a dragon, just raised by dragons, and-”

“We get it, ya’ basic. First door on your left.” Remy interrupted with a point. Mandy paused, before with a shrug opening the door that was Remy’s haphazardly thrown together portal. There was another flash of familiar light, but this time the walls appeared more hazy. Translucent, even.

“So, this is a mind palace.” Mandy let out a low whistle, because she could do that in fiction. “Weird. I don’t work in canon enough, huh?” 

But that wasn’t the focus right now. Instead her attention was drawn to a scuttling in front of her, a little purple dragon caught off guard by her arrival. Mandy grinned, taking the opportunity to lunge and catch him. “Gotcha!”

Puff did not appreciate this gesture, frantically clawing and biting at Mandy and nearly causing the young witch to drop him entirely. 

“Geez, stop struggling, Virgil!” Mandy huffed, readjusting her grip.

“...Virgil?” 

Mandy paused, looking up to see she had an audience. Roman, Patton, and Logan were giving her looks caught between confusion and horror. The dragon in question had frozen, terrified when she said his name.

For a moment Mandy thought she ruined everything, but no recognition dawned on their faces. “Oh right, you guys are pre-accepting anxiety.” Mandy gave a small sigh of relief, the others tensing further. “Don’t worry, it’s just a, uh, nickname. Totally irrelevant. Definitely not something worth pondering or asking Anxiety about. Okay, toodles!”

But as soon as Mandy attempted to spin on her heel with Puff in tow, a searing hot pain overtook her arms. She yelped, dropping the fledgling and spinning into the other realm alone, collapsing with a grimace.

“Okay, no taking things between realms.” Mandy grit her teeth. “Good to know.”

She looked up, her eyes peering through the darkness to see a sword glinting in the meager light, pointed threateningly at her face. Strangely, she hadn’t even heard the movement. That was suspiciously terrifying. 

“State your business.” The not-dragon Virgil threatened. 

Mandy looked down the length of the sword. She looked back up at Virgil. “I was just trying to bring you a present.” Mandy huffed, annoyed that her plan had failed. “It was a dragon version of you. A real one.”

Well, that was not the right thing to say. Mandy yelped, rolling out of the way as the sword came slashing down, clanking loudly against the rock wall.

“Lovely seeing you as always!” Mandy waved, turning on her heel to the sound of cursing behind her. 

The witch gave a sigh of relief, trying to focus her mind again after getting so jittered. It was difficult whenever her creations got away from her, especially when she was at the wrong end of the sword. The Lord only knew how many times her giants got out of hand, putting Mandy in all sorts of compromising situations.

“Think Mandy.” Mandy told herself, continuing to spin as she began to get dizzy, multiple universes passing by and only offering her glimpses: cages, a butterfly wall, the ocean…. And of course the accompanying cast, but that was a bit harder to decipher considering they all shared the same fate. “If you could go anywhere, do anything, focus on that. Where would you go? What would you do?” 

Her focus was shattered as in her dizzy state she took a single step back, breaking the spell and immediately tripping over something alive.

“Mrow!” The white cat hissed, scrambling fearfully up and away from Mandy and into Patton’s lap.

“Oh dear!” Patton gasped, bending down to check on her. “Are you alright?” She took in his light blue robes, recognizing a fellow magic user.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Mandy took his hand, standing up. She looked down at the bristling cat, glaring up at her haughtily. Mandy winced, slowly recognizing this to be her witch AU. “Sorry about your tail, Roman. Also sorry about your allergies, Patton.”

Patton gave her a bewildered look, not so subtly wiping at his nose. The cat hair was clearly getting to him again. “What? It’s just this spring air. Hardly your fault.”

“Right.” Mandy didn’t bother to explain that she was the one who gave him allergies in the first place. She sighed, wishing she could at least cuddle up Roman with his fluffy coat, but Roman looked to be in no mood to accept her apology. “Aristocat.” She muttered. “Are Logan and Virgil around?”

“No, I believe they went out to collect potion ingredients.” Patton explained.

“Ugh why didn’t I just do that?” Mandy smacked herself in the forehead. “I could have just written something about you four doing potion stuff for witchcraft. This is so needlessly complicated.”

“...sorry?” Patton didn’t know how to respond.

“Whatever, I’m getting out of here.” Mandy glanced at the pair one last time. “I suggest inventing magic benadryl. Or getting regular benadryl. I have no idea what time period this actually is because you refuse to go outside.”

With this mystic advice Mandy disappeared, forever on the hunt for that elusive inspiration.

[plumblossomkun]

word count: 3472

pairing: jaemin x female reader

warnings: 18+ setting, a lil angst

summary: in which Na Jaemin is the first man you’ve let dance with you in months, and his smile is like starlight and bubbling champagne

a/n: thanks for waiting! it’s finally out! for those of you who hate on fics about the dreamies: the more intense scenes are sexy but not actual sex. also they’re legal so you can scroll right by if you’re uncomfortable w adults acting like adults. also i’m still working on the kun fic!!! take this in its place for now!!!

click here for the playlist | chapter 2 coming soon

10:00 pm move - taemin your moves captivate me under the dark lights

“Jaemin, what are you looking at?” Jeno yawns, dragging his fingers through his hair. With his chiseled jaw and bright blue lenses, he seems cold and dangerous. Then he grins, and somehow becomes more boy than man, cheeks rounding as he beams, the motion curving even his eyes into half-moons. He laughs at himself. “I look good.”

“Like always,” the other man chuckles. He grins as he fixes his long-lashed gaze on whatever has captured his attention. Compared to Jeno, he is slighter, jaw less squared, legs and arms lankier, but even slouched in his chair he shines, from the slopes of his soft cheeks to the argent rings on his slender fingers. 

Jeno follows his gaze up to the second floor, to the girl who leans against the bar and laughs with the bartender. Against the dark polish of the wood, and under the faint gold lighting reflecting off the glass tiled walls, her hair falls dark brown and straight to her waist, but she does not turn their way to reveal her face. He almost regrets not having looked earlier, because even as she laughs with the bartender, holding a glass of water to her neck, she is graceful in a way that the girls around them are not.

He leans toward his friend. “Pretty girls don’t always have substance.”

Jaemin laughs, squeezing his shoulder. Even when his expression settles, his lips retain a half-smile. “Maybe not.”

10:58pm  chantaje - shakira feat. maluma and like a madman, i follow, behind you, dying for you

Countless girls boast rose-red lips and fluttering lashes. They bare their fangs like vipers, their intentions clear in the way they gyrate, asking for dances that neither of them want. At least, not to the slow, achy tune that the DJ is playing, low beat thrumming in the dim light, bodies riding against bodies in a way that has nothing to do with the rhythm of the music.

“Come play,” the girls croon, with their clawed hands and dangerously tall heels. “Drinks are on us. Come have fun.”

But the two refuse. They sit at a table by the stage, Jaemin flipping through his phone and Jeno watching the girls go by with faint disinterest.

Suddenly, he perks. “Jae.” 

“Mm?”

“돌다리도 두들겨 보고 건너라 (look before you leap).”

Jaemin looks up then. The girl who’d leaned against the bar nearly half an hour before strides towards the stage-- and therefore them-- looking like she wants to dive into the music. A faint peach-pink glow suffuses his cheeks. “I’ll try.”

10:59 snapping - chungha baby i feel you, the perfume haze spreads

With a final sigh of disgust, the bartender dumps an entire pitcher of water on the too-drunk man in front of him as the patron tries to grab the bottle of rum in his hand. “Don’t touch my alcohol.”

You spit out the remainder of your third glass of water, cackling. “Oh my god, Haechan.”

He motions for you to give him your radio, and when you hand it over, clicks it on to say, “Yo, can I get someone up here to escort a patron out?”

Then he snatches up what is left of the man’s last shot and sweeps the counter clean with a towel. The scowl that curls his lips is entirely uncharacteristic for someone whose name means ‘full sun’. “You touch my shit, you get out. Club policy.”

A guard (one of three) appears at the top of the stairs to take the inebriate under his arm. Yukhei is too nice-looking for a bouncer, not intimidating at all, but all the regulars love him, and that goofy smile of his works wonders. “Come on, buddy. I got ya. I’ll call you a car-- oh, your girlfriend’s downstairs? Dancing? Without you? Let me get the DJ to call her out so she can get you home.”

As you cringe for the poor man, an arm slips around your shoulder, and the smell of lavender surrounds you. “Hi, sweetheart,” your boss coos. As he cozies up to you, you look him up and down, brows raised at how he’s dressed. The black suit compliments his foxy blood-red hair, but without a shirt and tie, he actually looks the part of a sleazy club owner.

He adjusts the bobby pins keeping the right side of his hair back, looking unsure. “Too much?”

“No, just different,” you say, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. He flinches at the gesture, pale cheeks tinged pink. Despite his intimidating looks, Lee Taeyong is the softest man you know, and you absolutely adore him for it. “You look good, Yongie.”

Taeyong beams at the compliment, the color on his face blooming into a full blown blush. “You think so?”

“Yeah, hyung. You look sexy,” the other server, Mark, chimes in, tossing his apron over the counter.

Haechan throws it right back at him. “You never say that to me!”

You roll your eyes as they begin to squabble, like always. “Oppa, I’m going to take my 20 now.”

Taeyong is busy engaging with one of the regulars. “Okay, sweetheart. Have fun out there.” He doesn’t look to see where you’re going; he already knows where you’ll be if he needs to find you.

You run a hand through your hair as you go down the stairs, combing the kinks out as you move past dozens and dozens of girls. In their thick makeup and skin-tight dresses, they writhe to the heavy bass like eels, and you’re glad that even when they stand from their seats their drinks stay in their hands.

The stench of hundreds of perfumes passes through the air, heavy with heat, and the flashing, shifting lights turn the faces around you into Picasso paintings in motion.

You revel in it, breathe in the stuffy air like you’re starved for it. Taeyong always says he likes it like that, maintains that a sweaty club-goer is the one that hands over the most money for drinks, only turns the AC on to air out the club at the end of the night. You only love it when you’re about to be part of it.

“Hey, baby, let me buy a drink when your shift ends,” someone hollers, a round of drunken cheers following. “You need one, don’t you?” When you glance at the group of men sitting by the bottom of the stairs, they are all red-cheeked, and their heads wobble on their necks as they wave at you. 

“No thanks,” you say dryly. They reek of alcohol and grease. Christ. “I don’t drink.”

“That’s okay, sweetie, we’ll be here when you want to,” one of the other men at the table leers, raising his beer in the air. “All~ night long.”

“I’ll let you know if I ever need a drink,” you lie, and continue on your way, shuddering at the very thought of it. If you ever drank, it wouldn’t be with them.

Regardless, you have your eyes set on what you want already.

He sits in shadow just below the stage, though the shadows are not enough to hide him, not when he looks like a sin waiting to happen. You’ve never seen him before-- you’re sure you would have noticed him if he’d been at the club before.

A strip of bare skin peeks out between the laces of his white tunic, running from his collarbones to just above his navel; the maroon blazer against his pale skin makes him look like he’s made of moonlight. When you draw closer, you can see dark red glitter sparkle on his long lashes, and a thin layer of gloss on his petal pink lips; behind the strands of almost-black hair falling across his face, his shining eyes are lined with umber.

Dangerous, you muse. You’re sure that anything would look good on him.

He sees you coming, basically jumps to his feet and meets you halfway. His lips curve into a smile, one that bares the upper row of his teeth and shows off the length of his lashes against his cheeks, a smile that is soft and bright like starlight. 

Before you can speak, he offers you his hand. “Would you like to dance?

Against your better judgement, you take it. “You’ll be the first person I say yes to tonight, then.” 

It’s not like I’ll dance with another cute boy tonight, anyway.

“I’m honored,” he chuckles. And he pulls you into the crowd, and, subsequently, into his arms.

11:02 ko ko bop - exo can’t explain this feeling, i’m drawn by your ways

Her hands are soft, and small, and almost cold when they ghost over his, but the way she smiles is everything but that. In fact, now that she’s dancing-- and it’s like it just happens to be with him, he’s almost sure she would look the same way in anyone else’s arms-- she seems to glow, with an undeniable energy that draws in all the eyes of the people around her. It is like she is the only light in the entire club, and everyone else is drowning in shadow.

He watches incredulously as her hands run chastely down from his neck to his chest, then flit down to his sides. And despite their lightness, they feel like fire to him.

His lungs have never failed him like this before.

She grins like she knows just how devastating she is, and cocks her head, inviting him to come closer. Even her perfume is intoxicating, the faint sweetness of strawberries and jasmine lingering wherever she moves.

He laughs, grinning as he leans in. “I’ll dance with you as long as you want me to.”

When she pulls back, she’s blushing— it’s lovely on her, like a dusting of roses on her cheeks—  and mouths, okay.

11:05 baby don’t like it - nct 127 when i’m with you, danger seems like a good thing

The hair’s breadth of distance between you is a sweet gesture on his part-- even when you trace the lines of his body, feel his heartbeat just beneath your fingertips, he doesn’t do the same to you-- but something in you really wants to see him let go. The razor-sharp tension in his jaw and the way the veins in his neck flex when he comes too close to you make it clear that he wants to be in that space between too close and just close enough.

“Why don’t you relax?” Your back pressed to his chest, you tip your head back so you’re leaning into him. If you weren’t paying attention, you’d only see the soft smile on his face and the conspiratorial wink. But you are so close to him that you can hear the quiet gasp that escapes him at the contact. You’re too short to really lean on his shoulder, but the feeling of him hovering over you, almost holding you, is strangely comforting. That, and he smells like clean laundry, all warmth and sweetness.

“There are a lot of people watching us,” he says, his voice caressing your ear, deep and rich like melted chocolate. It’s not quite an answer to your question, but the words are also not a boast or a lie-- you can feel the electricity of countless watching eyes, jealousy dripping from them like melting wax that you are the one who has his attention. You can’t help but feel smug, and bite your lip to keep yourself from snickering. 

Except, when his hands frame your body, from your shoulders down to your hips, finally running his fingers over your skin, a sharp inhale comes out instead. You almost swear at the way he does it, reverently, so gentle, like you’re glass.

Christ.

11:11 señorita - (g)i-dle just focus on me, do other eyes matter?

His cheek brushes against yours when you turn your head to whisper, “It’s 11:11. Make a wish?”

He snickers. “Who needs a wish when I already have you here?”

That’s a fucking terrible line. You wonder if you should laugh or hit him for it. Meanwhile, he trembles with laughter at his own words.

Somewhere between a minute and an eternity later, he’s spun you back around to face him, one hand on your hip. He doesn’t say anything, but that beautiful, shining smile lingers on his face as the two of you continue to sway to the reggae strum of bass guitar filling the air, every move languid and easy.

11:11 long flight - taeyong it’s enough, but i’m still starving baby

Jaemin is completely and utterly convinced that the girl in his arms fits there a little too well for his own good. He sighs.

A sudden coldness settles in her expression at the noise, and her voice is small and distant when she leans back and asks, “Are you here just for tonight?”

“No.” He tweaks her nose, thinking, winter does not suit her at all. When that fails to shake her out of it, he brushes his thumbs across her cheeks, humming, “Did you know that a smile suits you better?”

She rewards his efforts with a huff of laughter, and a little of the light returns to her face as she swats at him. “Hey!”  

He grins down at her. “Are you worried you won’t see me again?”

The last thing he expects in response to that is for her to blush and nod the tiniest of nods.

He sucks in a breath at the feeling that washes over him like a too-hot summer breeze, one that is completely alien to him. Flirting is as natural to him as breathing or licking his lips-- so he doesn’t quite know what to do with the crimson blooming on his cheeks. 

He covers his face with his hand. So this is what it’s like to be on the other side.

11:12 all i wanna do - jay park feat. hoody and loco whatever you want, my answer is me too

The stranger is silent for a brief spell. When he speaks again, he sounds as if he’d rather not say the words. “As much as I would love to dance with you all night, I think Taeyong-hyung wants us on soon.” 

“Us?” you echo, looking up at him.

“Yes.” He looks as if he wants to say something more, mouth gaping slightly, but shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to speak to someone you can’t see through the sea of bodies around you. “Jeno, come here.”

Another face appears beside the stranger’s. Together, they look like a pair of angels staring down at you. And they would be, if they weren’t dancing with you, in Taeyong’s club, at this dark hour.

“Hello,” the boy named Jeno says. Unlike his friend, who is like a tree swaying in the warmth of the summer breeze, he is litheness and grace, slender and lean, and looks like he feels the music in every bone in his muscled body. His hard features soften when he smiles shyly at you, and if his friend’s smile is like starlight on a warm summer’s night, his is as lovely as the sun on a spring morning.

“Are you gonna go get ready?” he asks your previous partner as they bump shoulders.

“Yeah.” The stranger catches your eye with a wink, blows you a saucy kiss that makes you laugh. He brushes a thumb over your cheek before he leaves. “See you later.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving you bright red.

“I’m sorry he’s like that,” Jeno sighs, guiding you deeper into the waxing tide of bodies. “If it’s any comfort, I am a better dancer than he is.” 

You lick your lips, already starved for the music and the movement. You don’t miss how his eyes follow the motion. “Good thing you can show me.”

He laughs. “Of course.”

Jeno wasn’t lying, at all, and for a song or two, you forget that it was his friend’s smile that had pulled you onto the dance floor in the first place instead of his.

Still, your eyes stray, and you wonder if you might dance with his friend again before the night ends.

11:20 stay up - baekhyun let me get drunk on the sweetness that is you

Jaemin adjusts the mic pack on the harness around his waist and lets out another long sigh.

“You’re being dramatic,” Haechan comments, not looking up from his phone. The dressing room is admirably large for such a small establishment, but the shorter man is still in Jaemin’s space and in his chair. “We’re only performing, like, 5 songs."

“You can’t complain,” he replies as he peeks in the vanity to check his makeup and hair. “Taeyong took over the bar so you could perform with us.”

“Only because we’re making him more money than the bar ever could.” Renjun yawns from the couch behind them, stretching. “If Chenle and Jisung weren’t busy, we’d make even more.”

Someone knocks hesitantly on the door, like they’re not sure they should even be knocking. “You guys decent?”

“Mark, just come in,” Renjun and Haechan sigh.

And it is indeed the eldest of them who slips into the room, tugging his tie out of its loop. “Jeno’s coming. [Y/N]” —he levels a knowing glance at Jaemin— “is done with her break, anyway.”

Haechan finally looks up from his phone, frowning. “You should be careful with her.”

“Is she that dangerous?” Jaemin jokes. 

He doesn’t voice the fact that, for him, she just might be.

Haechan rolls his eyes. He claps Jaemin on the shoulder as he gets up to retrieve his own headset. “Eh... Mark, you tell him.”

“Tell him what—? Oh.” Mark looks up from the clothing rack, outfit in hand. “Haechan and I have been out there with her too, dude. Don’t mess with her. She doesn’t need another thing to worry about. Plus, Taeyong-hyung will actually kill you if you get too close.”

Jaemin holds up his hands in surrender. “We were just dancing.”

It’s Mark’s turn to give him a sympathetic pat. “If you say so.”

“Just remember I was the one who warned you,” Haechan huffs.

11:25 drippin’ - nct dream it’s too late to run away, you started this game first

When you return to the bar to retrieve your apron, you are surprised to see Taeyong smiling at patrons and serving the alcohol instead of Haechan. Yukhei is there too, keeping a watchful eye over the patrons, knowing all too well that some of them like to try and take advantage of the easily distracted club owner.

“Hey,” the guard greets you, grinning. A table of girls are giggling and waving at him, but he ignores them, giving you a high-five and a quick hug that has them whispering furiously. “Have a good break?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, thinking about the stranger and his friend. “I wasn’t on my own for once.”

Taeyong somehow hears you from across the bar and zooms over, brow creased in concern. “Sweetheart, you didn’t happen to be dancing with one of the boys who are performing tonight, would you?

Startled, you have to take a second to remember. “Uh, yeah? I think he mentioned that… He didn’t give me his name, though.”

“Mark and Haechan know the drill,” he mutters, mostly to himself. He glances at you again. “It’s not Chenle or Jisung, they’re hosting a workshop somewhere… was it Renjun? Jeno? Jaemin?” 

“Um… tall? Kind of flirty?”

“It’s Jaemin,” Taeyong says immediately, with a finality that has you wondering exactly what he plans to do with the information and how’d he’d known who you’d been talking about so quickly. “That boy—”

“What about him?” You poke him square in the chest, a little miffed. He means well, you know he does, but it’s not like you can’t handle yourself. “Oppa, I’ve told you, you don’t need to coddle me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not coddling you. They’re— you know how Mark and Haechan are! Jaemin is even worse—”

“Okay, but I’m not one of them.” You wave at the table of girls sighing over Yukhei. “Have you ever seen me swoon over Mark or Haechan?”

“No, but—”

“We were just dancing, alright?” You tug at him, too tired to really argue. “If he does something, you have my permission to sic Yukhei and Haechan on him.”

Taeyong looks down at your hand on his sleeve and scrunches his nose. Sighing, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, stinky,” you call after him as he goes back to the bar and you tie your apron firmly around your waist.

“Are you sure it was just dancing?” Yukhei teases, mocking Taeyong’s worried tone. He cackles when you elbow him in the gut. 

“Yes, I’m sure.”

a/n 2: what y’all think? feedback is appreciated! you can leave it here or just deposit it in my asks (; ♥