#shes so beastly! so fluffy!

[01a057]

kanna if she was a creature or a beast of sorts

[nnymphie]

imagine Laios introducing his beastkin! S/O to Falin (fluffy)

FALIN WOULD LOVE YOU!!!

Like, we all know how protective of Laios Falin is

( see all the instances of her beating the shit out of someone/thing for him and also not caring if someone explodes into viscera if it means him and marcille are safe <3 )

And I imagine that protective nature also extends into who he gets romantically involved with. Of course her brother is an adult man and she can’t stop him from perusing whoever he wants, but the last thing she wants is for his heart to get crushed, he doesn’t deserve that.

But you? She can see from the moment she meets you how happy you make Laios. How you don’t belittle him for his interests- as a matter of fact you indulge them with him. How you understand what it’s like to not exactly fit in, to be scorned for things out of your control. He seems so might lighter with you at his side, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Expect her to want to spend time with you too a lot, she would find you absolutely fascinating! Especially post ending Falin who still has her own beastly traits!

[otomiyaa]

Day 21: Horns/Fangs

Sariphi x Leonhart

[Miya & Mia’s Tickletober 2023] - Reupload of one of last year's tktober fics that died. So niche no one reblogged it to keep it around, but guess what, it's back hehehe 😇😈

Word Count: 1K

“Y-Your Mahahajesty! Nohoho! Not agahahain!” 

Sariphi loved that she could laugh a lot by Leonhart’s side. He was cute, sometimes funny, but ever since he discovered that Sariphi was quite ticklish, he had been looking for ways to make her laugh as loud and as much as she could.

From soft scribbles with his fingers on her sides or belly, to playful licks and nuzzles in her neck, Leon was quite the fluffy tickle monster. And sometimes, he was really merciless.

“I cahahan’t breathe! Hehehe plehehease stop!” 

“Sariphi, I apologize.” The transition from Leonhart the tickle monster to the sweet and caring king he was, Sariphi loved it so much that she spread her arms wide to welcome him for a cuddle.

“It’s okay,” she said breathlessly, petting him when he lifted her in his arms for a very nice hug. Sariphi pouted when she wiggled her fingers against Leon’s fur. She had tried it before, again and again, but it was as expected. Her tiny fingers did nothing to his beastly body. Not his neck, not under his arms, not his tummy.

“Still not working?” Leon said when he noticed she tried to tickle him back. Sariphi nodded. 

If only Sariphi had the guts to try and tickle Leon when he was in his human form. But everytime she saw him like that, she was just so wonderstruck by his beauty that she forgot about it. Leonhart as a human was almost intimidating. More intimidating than his beast form maybe. So up until now, Sariphi still never heard him laugh like she wished to. 

“Did I take it too far?” Leon asked when Sariphi continued to catch her breath in silence. Sariphi shook her head and rubbed the places where he tickled her. She still felt tingly, but in a pleasant way.

“Not at all,” she said, and she gazed at his beautiful eyes. Then she looked at his horns, and she realized something she didn’t try yet before…

“Your Majesty… Leonhart,” Sariphi whispered softly, and she reached out for him, inviting him to come even closer with his head. Thinking she simply wanted to give him a kiss, Leon moved closer, and Sariphi first cupped his cheek. She then moved her hand up and lightly trailed her finger against his horn.

“Oh.” A soft sound came from Leon, and he twitched. Sariphi held on to her curiosity and tried it again. She lightly tested the sensitivity of his horn by tickling it softly, and there was definitely a reaction.

“W-what are you trying?” Leon asked her the obvious. Sariphi smiled merrily.

“Maybe your horns are ticklish. I would like to give it a try,” she admitted, and before Leonhart could answer, she literally climbed him until she could sit on his shoulders, as if His Majesty was going to give her a piggyback ride. Then, making sure she was steady, Sariphi started to tickle both Leon’s horns in this position. She scribbled her fingers lightly against them, and ooooh bingo. Finally!

“Sahahariphi, t-that feels reheally strahahange,” Leon laughed in the most beautiful, deep and charming voice. Sariphi giggled playfully and continued to tickle him.

“Does it tickle, Your Majesty?” She felt how much Leon was controlling his reactions so he wouldn’t throw her off him. He shook with held-back laughter and reached for her legs, trying to get her to move off him.

“Ahahalright, a-alright hahaha y-you found m-my tihihickle spot,” Leon laughed, but Sariphi was determined to tickle him a little more.

When he started to put more effort in getting her to move off him, such as by tickling her bare feet and legs, Sariphi laughed and dodged his attempts. She held onto him and tickled his horns mercilessly in a way she never thought horns could be tickled. She experimented with soft scribbles, and the use of her short nails up and down the length of them, and when she focused on the base of the horns… Precious.

“Hehehe Sariphi okahahay you win! You win,” His Majesty laughed breathlessly, his voice sounding different and more beautiful than ever before.

Sariphi felt shy and embarrassed by how much the ticklish King affected her, and as the feeling distracted her, she felt how Leon finally managed to pry her off him, and he pinned her back underneath him again. He hovered over her, still panting and breathing heavily, and she gazed up at his flustered expression.

“Did that tickle?” Sariphi whispered playfully, and she smiled. Leon sighed and slowly took the hem of her dress and moved it up, revealing her bare legs to him, and her panties, and…. Sariphi blushed like mad by how bold Leon was, but as soon as her bare tummy was in sight, he stopped, and she could see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“You asked for this, Sariphi.” He then put his lips to her tummy and instead of kissing it like she expected he might, he gave her the one thing Sariphi had only heard of and read about in books, but never knew what it was like: a raspberry. And boy did that tickle.

“LEHeheheon! HAahahaha I’m sohohorry! Ahahahah!” Sariphi squirmed and struggled, but combined with some soft nuzzles, Leon once again tickled her until she couldn’t breathe. By the time he stopped, they were back in each other’s arms, resting peacefully after the playful struggle. Sariphi gazed at his horns again, and finally said what she had been wondering about.

“N-next time, I would like to see if you are ticklish anywhere else… in your human form,” she said.

“Oh?” Leon shook his head. “I guess not, but we can try,” he said.

“At least you will still have your horns. Which are very ticklish. And the tickle fight would be more fair, wouldn’t it?” Sariphi giggled. She yelped when Leon playfully poked her side.

“You are very small and ticklish compared to me, but you definitely found a way to tickle me back. So I say, it is already fair,” he argued. Sariphi pouted.

“I don’t think so! You should let me tickle you when you are a human!”

“I will let you try.” 

And although duty was awaiting them and the palace was as busy as always, that day Sariphi and Leon did nothing else but enjoy each other’s presence, having fun with their silly tickle fights and giving each other their love. 

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 27 - Close

The rogue rolls a stealth check.

On AO3.

Astarion ends up giving the drow’s knife to his most intrepid leader. He took it, obviously. Spends the half hour she takes to drink water and eat her dried fish to polish off any lingering contaminants (and check his arm three times, feeling for ridges or fleshy knobs beneath his skin). Once they’re both done, he presents it to her.

“Um,” she says.

He was hoping for something a little better.

She doesn’t know how to use it, save for gutting fish and skinning woodland creatures under the Blade and the wizard’s tutelage. But while her staff will do an adequate job with enemies at longer range, her close-range skills are utterly abysmal. The worst he’s ever seen, and he’s including Leon in that (the man relies far too heavily on his magic; ugh, wizards).

She takes it reluctantly. And he realizes he’s going to have to teach her how to use it. Takes another half hour to show her two basic holds (she’ll be best at overhead strikes and slashing, he thinks; at least until the gith can build up some arm strength in her). Remembers she’s human and living, and belatedly shows her how to hold it without potentially cutting her own fingers off.

Then she announces she’s fit to travel again by way of grunting and grumbling and her left knee cracking as she rises—her pulse goes fluttery and she stands very still a moment. Hmm. She really shouldn’t have let him feed. For her own sake, anyway.

Baffling creature.

And then they set about walking. Again.

They walk. And walk. And walk some more. She takes up a musical chant that ends with her muttering and a soft snort. Must be one of her people’s jokes. She tries to explain it, but he has no idea what a “taumcardee” is.

They stop frequently. It’s her fault. She wouldn’t be so dizzy if she had more blood sloshing about inside her own veins. But she gave half of it to him, to slosh about in his own veins, and now she’s unable to walk more than fifteen minutes without needing a break.

Rather like those beastly little dogs patriars of the upper city used to keep a century and a half ago. Dreadful things. Always knew when he or one of his siblings were about. Until the city finally got tired of the nightly cacophony (partially funded by that bastard, no doubt) and declared them all contraband.

She’s rather bitey like those tiny terrors, too. And, well, loyal.

He feels his face twitch and has to smooth his expression down.

She’s nice to him. Not because she’s trying to gain anything (no more than usual, anyway), but because she just…is. He’s useful to her, yes. Undoubtedly. But not in the way he’s accustomed to. Not in the way his instincts can fall into line with. Not in a way that makes sense.

She does. Genuinely. Want to just…help him. Just because.

He should be congratulating himself. This is what he wanted, the prize he’s been playing for. He’d even tasted something in her blood, this last time. Something new. Small. Like a freshly struck ember nestled in a fluffy ball of tinder. Neglect it, and it suffocates. Feed it too much, and it dies.

It’s almost like…

No. Best not dwell on that. Especially not at the spider silk connection between this foreign oddity and him.

Astarion is a vampire spawn, a rogue, a recently freed slave, and arguably one of the most experienced whores in all of Faerun. His goal is to stay that way (and keep the fourth in the past tense). Whatever his leader’s blood tastes like doesn’t matter, so long as she remains his leader and his key to the others. That’s how he stays safe. How he stays free. All he needs do is maintain his altered plan. Easy. He barely needs to do anything at this point.

Which is why there’s no reason for him to reach for her when he picks up distant sounds. A word of warning would do just fine. (It’s just practicality, since she’s his meal and his protection, and that’s why his innards lurch all sickly in trepidation.) (Simple practicality.) (Nothing more than that.)

“What?” she says in Chondathan.

He holds. Listens.

It’s quiet, even to his ears, and distant. He stops breathing and stills himself utterly. Has to strain to hear over the whoosh of her heart and the rush of her lungs inflating. But the longer he stands there, the more certain he is.

Footsteps. Distant pulses. Something—three, perhaps four—living things at a distance. And getting closer.

“Far over there,” he says. “People.”

The word he uses is an inclusive one, as Chondathan is rather lenient with it comes to whomst one is speaking about and their relation to the speaker. Elvish is far more discerning in what it considers a person. But he’s not teaching her Elvish, and she seems the inclusive sort (inviting him to feed on her even after discovering what he is).

He sends that thought (definitely not the second part of it, though) to her. It’s more an impression: careful steps padded to silence, heartbeats strong but slow, the lack of muttering or humming. Not just people.

People on the hunt.

“Fuck.”

He needs no translation.

She wonders if they can fight.

No.

He’s killed three so far?

By surprise, and he’s wondering if the first two weren’t slaves. In a fair fight (they both snort) he’d lose.

“Fuck.”

And they shouldn’t engage anyway. Part of fetching victims for that bastard was knowing who to lure and when and where. A pattern of missing patriars tends to draw attention. A few disappearances here and there amongst the lower city, and the flaming fist can barely be bothered to file the paperwork about it.

Then he realizes how much he thought so very openly just then, and he starts to cringe away. But the only thing he gets from her is a sort of grim acknowledgment.

Apparently human villains hunt the same way in her world.

He’s a little disquieted at the comparison (even though he shouldn’t be, he’s a vampire) (still).

“They’re coming this way,” he says, careful to use the simplest verb forms. Rather like talking to a dull child.

They can’t move fast enough to escape. Not with her in that condition. They’re near a shallow stream, the ground low and flat. But it rises up ahead. Becomes a narrow sort of low canyon. And she spots something in there. What she thinks might be a cave.

(What she actually thinks is an image of a wolf pup emerging from a hole on a steep embankment.)

It’s not so much a cave as a shallow alcove. They splash (quietly) through the stream to get to it, whereupon she realizes they’ll have to lie partially submerged and crammed right against each other to fit under the shallow overhang.

“You, in,” he says.

She makes an unhappy noise. So he crowds closer and makes a nudging motion with his hands. It’s not as if he’s trying to do anything disgustingly noble. It’s just that, should they be discovered, he has knives he knows how to use, and she doesn’t. Plus, they’re less likely to see him.

Water splashes. She sucks in a gasp through her teeth as she shuffles in and lies down.

He’s far less squeamish. Kneels down and stretches out, her front to his back. Pushes right up against her. Her body goes rigid against him.

He initially thought all that came from a virginly shyness. He nearly opens his mouth to tease her. But then he remembers what she admitted, what else that awkwardness might be, and a nastiness churns up his throat.

“Apologies,” he says.

To have children. She’d compared her future to a breeding sow. To be impregnated over and over. Not even just the sex of it, but to have her body taken away from her like that. Not as a person, but as livestock. As cattle. As a thing to be used up.

He lies there still and quiet.

Until her thoughts nudge him. She can’t see past him to tell if they’ve been discovered. And there’s no room for her to shuffle enough to peer past him. Perhaps she ought to be on the outside?

No. He’s got excellent hearing. He’ll know if they come close. And besides, drow have excellent nightvision, but in the depths, they tend to rely on seeing heat. They’ve become suited to the deep darkness. Able to see creatures with no light at all.

“Infrared?” she whispers, meaningless syllables.

So she shows him something. Another of her “movies.” A ridiculously muscled man with no shirt, slathered in mud, shouting into some overgrown forest.

“What?” he says, barely breathing.

And then the image changes to fuzzy shapes and colors. A gray and black landscape, and the shape of the same man, but now all red and white for some reason. Back to normal vision and some creature walking past the man, now covered in mud and no longer red, but the same gray and black as his surroundings.

Predator rules.

He blinks uselessly in the actual—and his own personal—darkness. Whispers, “What?”

Hiding body heat. He has no heat, so they can’t see him?

Yes, he knows. It’s how he got close enough to that half dead drow that hurt her—

Oh. He’s still angry about that, isn’t he? And she’s startled because that leaps between them at the same time she realizes he placed himself in front to camouflage her very living, very warm flesh with his own corpse.

That’s…she’s impressed. It tickles feather light across his senses, but it makes his lungs shudder in a gasp and he has to shove her out of his mind before he can reveal anything else. Show any more weakness.

They wait in that cold a long while. The hunters patrol overhead. Still making no sound. Likely using a gesture language. They come near the stream, and both Astarion and his leader hold their breath. He feels her tilt her head against his shoulder blade as her mortal lungs finally have to exhale.

But the patrol does pass. The two of them emerge dripping and streaked in mud.

The cave air feels cold in her absence.

[sizeysage]

A pov/self-insert story I’ve been working on about a couple of OCs!! A human girl and an anthro catboy stumble across a borrower in their home…

(Posting it on this account because even if this start is sfw I wanted to have it lean into more suggestive stuff later—)

Aches ran through your body, stinging you back to wakefulness. The sickness had taken its toll on you, you’d been needing more rest every day, to the point you had to take naps during borrowing trips…

…but your surroundings were unfamiliar. Not at all the hard, cold surfaces you’d become accustomed to sleeping on. This was bedding, soft fabric, kept warm by your own body temperature.

Had you wandered back home in a fatigued daze and forgotten about it? Completely possible, illness does terrible things for reason and memory. Just drift back to sleep, you thought. Nothing worth agonizing over…

“I think it’s awake,” a voice whispered.

“It’s shuffling in its sleep,” another replied, just as hushed. “I’ve seen it do that a few times now, just let it be…”

Had they used any term besides “it”, you would’ve expected to open your eyes to see another borrower having stumbled across your home. But no. “It.”

You felt idly around the cloth, pretending to still be asleep, eyes shut tight.

“Do you think it’s having a bad dream?” The first voice asked. “Looks so tense…”

“It was burning hot when I picked it up,” the second answered. “Fever dreams aren’t great, that can’t be good for rest.”

“…shall I wake it up, then..?”

A brief moment of silence. And then, the feeling of touch: a gentle stroke across your arm. On instinct, your eyes opened wide, letting you finally see the duo talking about you.

The first voice belonged to a human: her cold finger recoiling from you as you jolted to alertness from her touch. Her eyes were a deep brown, full of concern. Black hair fell like soft fabric down to her shoulders, flowing across her shirt as water flows across stone.

The second belonged to a type of giant you hadn’t seen much of before: one of the beast people. Some type of cat person, coated in fluffy white fur with patches of grey. Yellow eyes gleamed at you from above, curiously staring down.

“Hey…” the human muttered, in a voice so quiet you almost couldn’t make out what she was saying. “We found you on the countertop behind the coffeemaker, are you okay?”

Your gaze wandered to the “bed” they’d placed you in. It was a bundle of cloth from various sources: towels, a shirt, what appeared to be boxers… all set on the seat of a couch, with the two giants sitting on the floor so as not to tower over you as much.

“Aches,” you stammered out. “I ache so much…”

“You’re definitely sick,” the human replied. “Pepper said you were burning up while he was holding you.” The beastly cat person, now identified as Pepper, raised a handpaw briefly in greeting.

“We’ll take care of you as long as you need, alright? No need to hide…” the human extended her hand once again as she spoke, resting it palm upright, her index finger about an inch from you, perhaps as a show of respect? Not crossing the threshold of your personal space? Or to ask you to reach out in return?

You assumed the last one, resting your hand on her fingertip. It was still so cold, but it was comforting. Soft, dark, cool skin to take away the pain of your body incinerating the disease festering inside you.

Without thinking, you tugged her finger closer, resting your face against it. You felt like a fiery torch submerged in water. The heat faded from your face, and you let out a deep, pained sigh of relief. All that tension began to fade.

“Thank you, thank you…” you murmured, any fear of the giants giving way to the desperate craving you had for comfort after spending so much time alone.

With her other hand, she gently pushed you onto her palm, idly running her fingers across you as she examined your comparatively minuscule form.

“I’ll bet you need water… shall we get some for you?”

You nodded in reply, too fatigued to question the giants’ kindness. The human turned to Pepper, and he nodded, standing up to hurry over to the kitchen.

The human stood up moments after, before sitting down on the couch beside the “bed” they’d both made for you. She shifted her grasp on you as carefully as she could, leaving you sitting on her lap.

[gothfoxgirlboy]

The demon stood at a monstrous 15 feet tall, more beastly than most with a bull like physique . Wielding an axe that was heavier than your average person with ease the minotaur led the battle against the angels. The Deadwoods were rife with combat.

The minotaur looked around, defeated angels all around him, and sighed at the lack of challenge. Then, the sound of a woman's laughter could be heard. Not the unsettling laughter of a psychopath, nor the smug chuckles of arrogance, it was a pure and gentle thing.

A young angel skips out of the forest into the clearing the minotaur was resting in. She couldn't have been much more than 5 feet tall and she smiled happily.

The minotaur quickly buries his axe where her head is... Or was, as she cartwheels out from the blindspot made by the axe.

"That wasn't very nice." She whines "we should at least greet each other first. I'm Joy what's your name?"

She flies up to the minotaur without fear. Pure white wings as opposed to the metallic wings most angels have, the incense her tail releases smells more floral than most. Her halo is a brilliant and blinding rainbow of colors.

The demon attempts to swat her away but she easily evades and hugs his chest.

"wow you're like totally soft."she says before letting go just in time to dodge another axe swing. She freefalls down to the ground, landing in a roll and hopping up to her feet right over the next axe swing.

The minotaur swings faster and faster, finally, a worthy foe. Except Joy never attacks. She simply dodges each swing, dancing around the axe that streaks through the air like lightning.

She cartwheels circles around the minotaur, laughing as though they were old friends. She cartwheels through his legs, under his loincloth, and gets a good look at a lot of the minotaur including his large sheath and massive balls.

She can't help but to reach out and touch it. As soon as she does the minotaur stops for a moment as intense pleasure floods his body. His equine cock starts to flare its head. It's already throbbing as the angel, who is mid handstand, rubs her foot along his half revealed cock.

Before his cock is fully erect it starts spurting out cum, the minotaur drops his axe from the unexpected pleasure. As the angel finishes her flourish just in time to get her face covered in cum.

She licks her cum covered lips before joking "that's a better greeting than the axe".

The minotaur's loincloth can't even hide his erect cock. It's bigger than her arm by a longshot, still dripping cum from the tip. He tries to grab the small angel but she easily evades his grasp, closing the distance between them.

"so soft and inviting." Joy states as she ducks under the demon's loincloth and buries her face in his balls. Her touch causes the minotaur to fall to his knees as another orgasm shakes his body. "It seems like you've never experienced this kinda joy you cute little moomoo. So sensitive that you're spurting everywhere."

The angel looks to the minotaur with a wide smile.

"should I give you true joy?" She says to the demon who's mind is fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure. He nods gently, his hand fondling his balls.

She flies up to his face and kisses his forehead.

"now I know what to do" she exclaims. She hugs the demon's chest again. Her hands explore his furry chest before finding something cold and metallic. "Here they are"

Joy pulls on the two metal rings. The minotaur moans loudly as his cock throbs. It seems like muscle and height are changing to fat as the minotaur's shape softens up, their powerful pecs become soft tits. The thick fur becomes fluffy and smooth. She spurts out cum from an incredible pleasure, far greater than anything she's ever felt.

Milk drips from her large breasts as the angel suckles on her nipples.

"This is what you were meant to be." Joy says as she pets the cowgirl.

The thick heavy horns that weighed down her head fall to the ground. So many expectations, so much violence, so much sin. It all disappeared with this previously unimaginable joy. A warm golden light appears over the minotaur, a comfortable halo.

If you enjoy my stories please look into my Patreon. There's free stories if you don't have money and if you do choose to subscribe you get a 1k word story minimum plus access to all other premium stories.

[sidekick-hero]

Will the man become the monster, or the monster become man?

(steddie | explicit | 5k | cw: Beast!Steve, monsterfucker!Eddie, inspired by this Tumblr Post | AO3)

Happy Birthday, my favorite nickname giver and sister in Keery thirst, @judasofsuburbia 💜 This is super late, but I sincerely hope you'll enjoy this.

Find 5k of tender, loving monsterfucking under the read more, only for you 🥰

His lungs burn, screaming for precious air as Eddie runs as fast as his legs will carry him.

Twigs claw at his skin, the stinging pain a distant sensation, secondary to the wild crescendo of his beating heart. Behind him, he hears the snapping of branches, even louder than the roar in his ears, and the heavy footsteps of his pursuer. The ground beneath him trembles, telling of the shrinking distance between him and the beast that hunted him.

Above him, the merciless glow of the full moon illuminates the path before him. If you can call it that, it is not much more than a desire path created by the wild life that live in these woods. It winds through the dense trees, slowing him down as he has to duck and twist and jump if he doesn't want to trip or run into a tree trunk. It's like he can feel the body heat of the monster chasing him against his back, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn air, making his hair stand on end and his feet speed up.

There's a meadow somewhere ahead, and beyond it, the Maze Garden, which he knows like the back of his hand. If only he could make it...

He never stood a chance.

Just as he bursts through the trees and into the clearing, the beast pounces. It slams into him, throwing them both to the mossy ground at the edge of the meadow. It’s heavy, holding Eddie down with its weight and he feels its damp breath against the vulnerable skin of his neck.

The ground is soft enough to cushion their fall, but it still knocks what little air there is out of his lungs with a soft hiss. He feels more than he hears the rumble of the beast on top of him.

"Are you...laughing? That fucking hurt, you brute. My poor behind," Eddie grumbles, not really annoyed, but playing it up just so Steve can nuzzle against his cheeks and kiss his ear in apology.

The rumbling only increases, vibrating through Eddie's body. "I'm sorry, love, do you want me to kiss it better?" Steve asks, his voice so deep it sends shivers through Eddie's body. It resembles a low growl that does not hide his beastly nature, even when he speaks softly and playfully.

Eddie squirms under Steve's heavy body to free his arms. Cupping Steve’s face with his hand, Eddie gently pushes it away from where it's tucked into his neck to get a proper look at his husband. His fur is soft under Eddie's palm and Steve nuzzles his muzzle into the hand that holds him. His sharp canines peek out from between his dark lips, and even darker eyes look down at Eddie with love and hunger.

Steve looks like what nightmares are made of, and yet he's everything Eddie ever wanted, ever needed. To Eddie, Steve was the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth. From the ivory-colored horns on top of his head, almost hidden in the lush mane of gold-brown fur, to his massive paws, adorned with their deadly claws that never touched Eddie with anything but gentle devotion, to his fluffy tail. And his frankly massive cock. Can't forget that.

For that, and Steve's equally massive and kind heart, is what ruined Eddie for everyone else.

Eddie never regretted telling Nancy, the witch who cursed Steve to live as a beast until he found his humanity by learning to love selflessly, that he did not want Steve to lose that side of himself completely. Eddie had fallen in love with both the beast and the man and didn't want to part with either. She had given him a knowing smile at his request and granted it with a soft kiss on his cheek.

Since then, every full moon, when the light of day has faded, man becomes a monster. Only to become human again with the first light that touches the earth.

Smiling up at the man who stole him first and then his heart, Eddie accepts the tender licks and nips on his lips, his jaw and down his sensitive neck. It's a heady feeling to have something as deadly as Steve's fangs so close to where his heart pumps life through his body. To know that Steve could kill him with a single move and not even break a sweat.

It fills him with as much warmth as thrill to know that Steve wouldn't. He'd rather kill himself than let anything, anyone, hurt Eddie.

Eddie knows this because he still wakes up shaking some days to the images of Steve lying on the ground, broken and bleeding, a knife sticking out of his chest. A knife aimed at Eddie because he dared to love a monster.

It was his love, Eddie's love, that saved Steve that day, effectively breaking the curse and giving Steve a second chance. Who would have thought that the town freak's life would turn into a fairy tale. But it did, with a prince and a castle and all. His mother had always told him that there was magic and goodness in the world, and that he would get to have both if he just stayed true to his heart. Eddie only wishes she could see that she was right.

Lost in his own thoughts, it takes Steve nipping at his collarbone with his sharp teeth, drawing a single drop of blood from where one of them pierced his skin, to bring Eddie out of his head and back to the mossy ground. "Am I boring you, angel? Or should I kiss you -" Steve rumbles over him as he leans back on his haunches to eye Eddie like his favorite dinner, "somewhere else?"

“I want to say yes, but I’m afraid Claudia will kill me if I ruin any more clothes. And by ‘I’ I mean you, and by ‘ruin’ I mean tearing them to shreds with your claws.”

It shouldn't be possible for a 7 foot tall furry beast with fangs and horns to pout, but that's exactly what Steve is doing. He gives Eddie his best puppy dog eyes and Eddie is so in love with him that he doesn't know how it hasn't killed him yet.

"Fine, don't look at me like that. You know, we could just try, I dunno, me getting undressed like a normal person. Just an idea."

Another laugh rumbles through Steve's huge body, so strong that Eddie feels it vibrating through his as well. Steve playfully licks a wide stripe across Eddie's cheek, and before Eddie can express the mock disgust on his tongue, Steve's growling voice in his ear sends an almost violent shudder through his body.

“We could, but where would be the fun in that?” As if to accentuate his words, Steve’s sharp claw follows an invisible path down Eddie’s chest, starting at his bopping Adam’s apple and veering to the left over his rapidly beating heart before placing his paw on the center of Eddie’s chest.

Steve’s dark eyes are looking into his own, a silent question in them. Eddie knows that he’s in charge of what they’re doing, always has been. Steve might be able to overpower him and take what he wants but that’s not what either of them is here for.

For Steve, it's Eddie's willingness to submit, to surrender to him, because Eddie wants to. Wants Steve. Needs him, even. It's Eddie's trust in him, Eddie's devotion, that makes Steve purr and writhe, out of his mind with lust and love.

For Eddie, it's the fact that Steve could take what he wants, sure, but doesn't. It's the thrill that comes with the proximity of a predator, the knowledge that Steve’s deadly claws and fangs could rip Eddie to shreds, not just his clothes. And yet all they ever did was caress Eddie, cherish him, claim him, please him.

It was never really a question for Eddie what his answer to Steve would be. He nods with a feral grin that matches Steve's answering one and silently apologizes to Claudia in his head before pushing all thoughts of their friends and staff out of his mind.

The next thing he knows, his shirt is hanging in tatters from his frame and Steve's rough tongue has made it its mission to taste every inch of his upper body, adding a hint of teeth here and there. It's astonishing how much control he has over them as they scrape across his hard nipples without breaking the skin, causing Eddie to moan brokenly.

The ground beneath him is still surprisingly warm from the sun that has been heating it all day, but with the cloudless, star-studded sky above them, the warmth of the day is long gone. Eddie's whole body shivers as the cold air hits his skin and he's glad for the warmth radiating from Steve's body. He’s not wearing any clothing except for some lose pants even if he never lets himself be seen in this form by anyone but Eddie but his thick fur is keeping him plenty warm.

The town’s people think the beast got turned back into the handsome prince, a perfect fairy tale ending. They are happy to believe their reformed ruler is once again fully human, thanks to the town pariah now turned consort. Only very few know the whole truth and only Eddie is allowed to see this side of Steve. It’s his and his alone. He might have to share his husband with a whole (albeit small) kingdom but this right here? That is only for them. Only for Eddie.

Steve’s enormous paw has wandered from his chest to the prominent bulge in Eddie’s pants, putting just the right amount of pressure on it to drive Eddie crazy but not enough to give him any kind of relief. “So eager to be claimed by me. Out here under the stars, where anyone could walk by and see.”

Eddie's cock twitches at these words, at the thought of someone seeing them like this. The beastly looking creature joined with Eddie's fragile human body, so easily broken, yet cherished by this powerful being. Chosen as his mate. Steve could feel it, of course, and as always, he reads Eddie like an open book.

"You'd like that, huh? Everyone seeing us like this. Say it, love. Tell me." He's stroking Eddie through his pants, the pull of the velvet against the sensitive head of his leaking cock igniting more of the heat pooling in his groin. Instead of answering, all Eddie can manage is a breathy whimper as he shakes his head desperately. "No? You don't want people to know how desperate the Prince's consort is for the hideous beast they have hated and feared for so long?"

Eddie wants to tell Steve so many things, most of all how much he loves being his consort, to have everyone know that Steve is his, that their handsome prince chose him, chose Eddie. But he also longs to be more. Craves to be -

"Mate," he gasps between moans and whimpers, "wanna be your mate."

The hungry growl that comes from Steve at his words doesn't sound human at all. It is the sound of a ravenous animal, hungry and about to devour its prey.

Eddie has never been so turned on in his entire life. Consort. Mate. Prey. He wants to be all of those things, wants to be everything Steve will ever want or need.

Before the thought has fully formed in his mind, Eddie feels more cold air hit his skin as his pants suffer the same fate as his shirt. He really doesn't know why he bothers with clothes on full moon nights. They always end this way. Maybe it's because he loves to see the physical proof of how much Steve wants him.

The way Steve paws at his cock, the rough surface of his paw pads creating the most delicious friction, is even more proof of his desire for Eddie. It's almost painful the way it drags over the sensitive flesh and another dollop of pre slides down the side of it. Steve bends down to catch it on his tongue before it reaches the thick patch of pubic hair and Eddie can feel as well as hear his content rumble at tasting Eddie. Hungry for more, the tip of his tongue licks up Eddie's length before dipping into his slit to catch every last drop.

A deep, guttural sound rumbles in Steve's chest, and Eddie thinks to himself that if Steve were a cat, he'd be purring right now. But he's not, so his satisfied growl sounds more like a hungry wolf being fed its favorite meal.

One of his claws plays with Eddie's balls and Eddie has to force himself to stay still, not twitch his hips as he desperately wants. They don't need restraints, he doesn't need to be held down by anything but Steve's presence, the threat that underlies his gentle playfulness.

"If you keep this up, this will be over before we get started," Eddie pants, already on edge, even though Steve has barely touched him. That's nothing new either. On nights like this, his cock starts throbbing in anticipation as soon as the light begins to fade.

"For you maybe. Who says it's going to be over for me, sweet thing?" Steve purrs these words, his lips pressed right against his pulsing cock, and the sensation combined with what his words imply makes Eddie come, suddenly and surprisingly for both of them.

"OhmyGod," Eddie whines, cock still twitching, another weak spurt hitting his stomach and catching in the hair there.

Above him, Steve remains silent, speechless at what has just happened. When Eddie manages to open his tightly shut eyes, he sees his husband looking back at him with an expression so human, it's as if the Prince himself is looking at him right now. There is so much utter and flabbergasted surprise on his face that it would be almost funny if Eddie wasn't so mortified.

"I guess you weren't kidding," Steve finally manages to say, and even his voice now sounds so human in its surprise.

Eddie groans and puts his hands to his face to hide his burning cheeks. "Oh God, please stop talking," he begs the love of his life. He supposes it's a compliment to Steve that he just came like a virgin touched for the very first time.

The familiar rumble is back and Eddie huffs in annoyance at being laughed at. Strong hands - really paws, only with opposable thumbs - circle his wrists and tug gently until he pulls his hands away from his face. Steve's smiling face comes into view, and despite everything, Eddie can't help but smile back at the sight. It always looks a little goofy to him, especially knowing that to most people Steve's smile would look absolutely terrifying. Too many sharp, pointy teeth.

"Don't hide your pretty face from me, my love." Steve chides gently, nuzzling Eddie's nose.

"I will if you laugh at me, asshole." The words lack any heat because Eddie is still fighting that goddamn lovesick smile that's painted on his face.

"I was just laughing at how adorable you are, being embarrassed when you blow my mind with how hot you are." As if to prove his point, Steve presses his groin against Eddie's hip and he can feel the hot, hard line of Steve's arousal. "God, the things I wanna do to you, Eddie, you have no idea. It scares me sometimes how much I want, fuck, how much I need you. So don't hide from me, don't deprive me of your beautiful countenance."

Steve's ardent declaration of love is more beautiful than anything Eddie has ever read in any of the many books he has devoured in his life. Naturally, his reply is just as earnest and heartfelt.

"You absolute sap, I love you and if you don't fuck me right now, you'll be sleeping in the throne room for the foreseeable future".

Another rumble of laughter runs through Steve's body as he bends down to lick the cum from Eddie's belly. When he looks back up at him, his dark eyes sparkle in the bright moonlight. "Your wish is my command, mate."

His soft cock twitches at the name and he knows he'll come a second time before the sun rises.

Sitting up and leaning on one of his elbows, he reaches for the small satchel tied to Steve's pants to retrieve a small vial of oil. "How about you get rid of these then, huh?" Eddie asks, tugging at the waistband before sliding his hand to the huge bulge and squeezing Steve's cock through the thin material. Steve's hips buck at his touch and he lets out a low, growling moan that is music to Eddie's ears. He repeats the motion just to hear it again, twisting his wrist just so and applying a little more pressure to the head, so that the next moan is cut short by a breathless whimper.

When Eddie removes his hand and leans back, Steve makes quick work of his clothes, ripping them off just as he did Eddie's. He swears to himself that this time he'll let Steve explain the sudden loss of their clothes to Claudia. Wayne's knowing looks are enough for him, thank you very much.

His eyes immediately focus on the thick, curved length, his mouth watering at the sight. He's glad he insisted on Steve taking him in their bed this morning. Even if it meant Steve was late for his duties. It means his body will adjust faster, open up more easily.

They learned that it took a little more patience and a lot more oil for Eddie to take Steve in this form. Other than that, all they needed was for Eddie to relax, trust Steve and let him in. And that's something Eddie learned years ago, trapped in a cursed castle with a moody beast and talking household items as his only companions.

His breath catches at the sight of Steve is kneeling in front of him, naked except for the fur on his thick body. Eddie gets on his hands and knees and crawls over to him, oil in hand, straddling his lap, supported by one of Steve's paws on his back, the other between his shoulder blades. Even though his naked body is exposed to the cold night air, he's warm surrounded by Steve. Protected from the outside world in their intimate little bubble.

He dribbles a copious amount of oil on his hands and Steve's length, coating it generously before reaching behind him and lathering his hole with the remaining oil on his fingers. The way Steve nuzzles his throat is distracting and hot in equal measure, his little nips at his collarbone and his hot breath fanning across his sensitive skin enough to make more and more blood rush south. His cock slowly refills where it rests against Steve's and it should give him an inferiority complex, how small it looks in comparison, but all the sight does is make his hole twitch in eager anticipation.

"Steve," Eddie almost whines, taking his husband's pink and deliciously thick cock in his oil coated hand, "work with me here instead of trying to eat me as a midnight snack, yeah?"

One last nip, this one firmer than the rest, drawing another tiny drop of blood from him, and Steve growls in his ear. "Always so impatient, my love. What am I ever going to do with you?" He pretends to wonder aloud and Eddie scoffs.

"How about helping me sit on your massive cock so I can ride you until you come inside me?" Eddie asks with an innocent flutter of his eyelashes, as if suggesting they have turkey for dinner instead of boar.

The feeling of Steve pulsing and twitching against his own length at those words brings Eddie back to full hardness and they both moan at the sensation.

"I take it you like the idea, big boy." It's not a question and they both know it. Steve's paw slides from his lower back to his ass, lifting him further into his lap as if he weighed nothing. His other paw joins the first, and his long fingers slide between Eddie's cheeks, always mindful of his claws. While Eddie holds him steady, Steve spreads Eddie's cheeks so he can line up Steve's cock with his glistening hole.

He can't help but tease, just a little, sliding Steve's length between his cheeks until the head catches at his entrance. Beneath him he can feel how tense Steve is, holding back with all his strength and self-control not to just bury himself in Eddie's warmth. As much as Eddie fantasizes about letting Steve do just that, he knows it wouldn't end in a sexy way. The human body has limits. Still, it's a thought that gets him going like nothing else.

Eddie bears down, trying to remain as relaxed as possible, and slowly shifts his weight to where Steve's cock is pressing against him. It burns and if Eddie didn't know better he would think it would never fit. But he does know better, he knows how delicious the stretch will feel in a moment, how full and complete he will feel then.

One of Steve's paws has settled on his waist to keep him upright, to keep him anchored, and it begins to stroke up and down his side in a soothing way. "That's it, take your time. Easy, my love. I got you. Let me in. Let me be your mate." It's all said in his soft growl, the sound echoing inside Eddie, relaxing his muscles even more and finally allowing the head of Steve's cock to slip inside.

The sound Steve makes sounds wounded, his whole body shaking with it, and Eddie can feel it inside him. He sinks down another inch or two, enveloping more and more of Steve with his body. He's sweating profusely by now, thanks to the effort of holding himself still as he sinks down tortuously slowly, combined with Steve's body heat warming him on all sides and his rapidly beating heart pumping hot blood through his veins.

As he sinks deeper and deeper, he feels Steve's thick cock filling every cell of his being. It's a feeling he's been craving since the last full moon, something raw and animalistic and so profound he can't put it into words. Like it was fate, destiny, some kind of prophecy. Or just his body's reaction to being fucked like it's never been fucked before, all these happy and euphoric feelings driving him a little crazy.

Once he's fully seated on Steve's cock, they both take a moment to just breathe, to adjust to the intense sensation. It always feels like the first time, and Eddie hopes it stays that way until they're old and wrinkled. Sometimes he wonders if Steve's fur will turn gray, too, and he can't wait to find out.

"I love you," Steve breathes out, barely audible if Eddie wasn't so close. "Thank you for choosing me. All of me, even this. Especially this."

Eddie leans forward as far as he physically can in this position and presses sweet kisses against Steve's muzzle. "I love you. Everything about you. Especially this." As he says these words, he begins to move, tentatively rising with the help of Steve's paws on his body before sinking back down again. The drag of the hot flesh against his inner walls sets his nerves on fire, the heat pooling in his groin, his balls already taut. He never lasts long when they fuck like this, even if he has come before.

Steve's not doing much better, Eddie can tell by the way his muscles are twitching. He's still holding back, letting Eddie set the pace, fighting every instinct inside of him that wants to pound, to claim. It's all so hot that Eddie can't help but wrap his hand around his own cock, chasing his release.

"You feel so good inside me. So fucking deep, it's like I can feel you in my throat." He leans back a little, still supported by Steve's paw on him, and puts his other hand on his stomach, where he can see Steve's cock distending it. "Look how well you fill me up, love," he adds, pressing against the bulge.

Steve does as he's told, staring down at Eddie's belly in hungry wonder, and Eddie's hand on his own cock speeds up. The paw that is not propping Eddie up also reaches for his belly so Steve can feel himself inside Eddie. "Mine," Steve growls, "you're mine."

"Yours," Eddie agrees breathlessly. He's so close, he just needs... he needs...

After Steve's fingers wrap around his hand and the tip of his claw strokes the head of his cock, it only takes two more strokes for Eddie to come again, thick ropes of cum matting Steve's golden brown fur, making it look darker.

It's as if someone has cut his strings, all the strength leaves his body and he sinks limply into Steve's arms. He's spent and hypersensitive, yes, but also loose and pliable, so he tells Steve in a soft voice, "Take what you need, my love. I want you to." He can feel Steve hesitating for a moment, letting his words and their implications sink in, so Eddie nods emphatically at his unspoken question and rubs his face against the soft fur on Steve's neck.

"Mate," Steve whispers in an awed voice, his cock pulsing inside Eddie, and it feels so good for Eddie to be able to give this to Steve. Even though his body feels like dead weight, heavy and immovable, he floats on the feeling. He's cradled against Steve's, held still, as if he had any intention of moving away when Steve begins to thrust into him from below. The force of Steve's cock ramming into him makes his body jiggle in Steve's lap. The overstimulation probably borders on painful, but it's only a distant sensation in the back of his mind as he floats too high to really register it.

The sounds Steve keeps making vibrate through him from all sides, around him, inside him, and the way Steve keeps holding him as he ruts into him makes him feel so safe, so loved. Treasured, really, like he's something precious that Steve can't bear to be parted from. Steve is chasing his own high, his own ecstasy, and he's going to find it in Eddie.

The thought makes him smile and he vaguely thinks he should write that down later.

When Steve comes, it's with a high-pitched howl that causes a flock of birds to flee from their hiding place in the surrounding bushes. It's the sound of a wolf howling at the moon, and Eddie knows the townspeople sometimes whisper about the lone wolf that can only be heard at full moon, wondering what it means. They avoid the meadows and woods in the area just in case it's another beast they have to fear. It suits them, so Eddie never bothers to correct them.

He knows it's not a lone wolf, it's a beautiful beast and its human mate.

Eddie must have floated even further away, because when he blinks his eyes again, he realizes that the world has tilted while he was gone. Steve is now lying on his back and Eddie is still held tightly in his arms, covering as much of his naked body as he can.

He's warm and the fur beneath him is soft, the gentle up and down of Steve's chest under his cheek slowly lulling him to sleep. He can feel Steve's cock still nestled inside him, so big that it won't slip out even if he's soft.

Eddie sighs contentedly and smiles, thinking how lucky he is to have this. It's not the first time they've fallen asleep like this and he already knows what their morning will be like. He will wake up at dawn in Steve's very human arms, the crisp autumn morning too cold for them to sleep without the added warmth of Steve's fur.

Steve will already be awake, always an early riser, and he'll kiss Eddie's unruly curls with an affectionate smile on his face. He'll call Eddie a sleepy head and ask him if he'd rather sleep in a bed. Eddie will stretch, savoring the ache in his limbs from the passionate night they just shared. He'll enjoy the sting in his ass where Steve slipped out of him when he turned human again, and the feeling of sticky cum dripping lazily from his gaping hole as he moves to get up.

They will both run to the nearby stables, buck naked, holding hands and laughing joyously like love-struck teenagers. Wayne will be nowhere to be seen, which is for the best. He and Steve got off to a...rocky start, and that's an euphemism, what with Steve taking Wayne hostage only to trade his life for his nephew. Eddie knows that Steve has since grown on Wayne, helped along by Steve giving Wayne his stables and horses to do with as he pleases. It helps even more that Steve makes Eddie smile every day and gives him all the books his heart desires and a personal library to go with it. Something Wayne was never able to do with the meager income he used to make as a blacksmith.

Eddie suspects Wayne knows what they're up to anyway, judging by the way he'll raise a skeptical eyebrow at Eddie later that day.

Once they are back in their rooms, they will crawl into their huge bed under the fluffy covers for another hour of blissful sleep, wrapped around each other, before the needs of the kingdom take Steve away for the day. He will, of course, sneak off to see Eddie, either to seek his counsel or just to steal a kiss from his husband before the next endless meeting commences.

And a month later, they will do it all over again.

[misslavenderlady]

Love at First Bite pt. 3💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: Months have gone by and the bond between Oliver and Sis has grown quite a lot. So much to a point where romance is in the air between them. When he proves how much he truly cares about her, the vampire king decides it's ready for the next step in bringing Oliver and his bride closer~

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read the previous parts if you haven't yet!

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of animal death, trauma, PTSD emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, threats, attempted mugging, knife, cut wound, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol, bribery/blackmail. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987.

5 Months Ago 

Sis could never be alone with her thoughts for too long. She always had to keep herself distracted by something during the night. No matter what she was doing – spending time with her babies, going on dates, or hunting for food – she had to keep her mind from wandering.. 

When that happened, terrible memories crept into her brain. Horrifying visions of the nightmares she had experienced while wide awake began to play back. Her mother's murder by her own hand. The first time she witnessed the boys feed. Hunters stealing her child and making an escape into the daylight. 

Those were the memories that she would be forced to relive again and again and AGAIN the day she left this world for good. No beastly monster could ever hope to see the light of a peaceful realm after death. She had to make the most of her time alive. 

After all, she almost didn't make it the night that Cyrus the terrible tore her head from her pregnant body. It was truly hell for her. For them all. 

The times when she struggled with those memories were the ones that she found herself longing for something from her human life. Something that was not corrupted by vampires and bloodshed. She had something long ago, which was taken by that very thing. 

Queen. Her beloved kitty cat. 

Though spoiled beyond belief and incredibly sassy in nature, Queen was a wonderful pet to Sis. Her fur was always soft and fluffy, making it extra pleasant to stroke. Sis loved the way she perched on her stomach to act as a heating pad whenever she dealt with monthly cramps. Her soft purrs and head rubs made Sis' feel safe and loved. 

They were loyal companions until the very end…..when David snapped poor Queen's neck. 

Sis rarely thought about that terrible night. Thinking about holding the body of her fur baby after the horrid crunch of broken bones filled her ears never failed to bring tears to Sis' eyes. The only reason she began to think about her cat again after years of being a vampire was because she had found an old belonging of Queens. 

It had been an uneventful night. Some spring cleaning to occupy her mind. Sis was simply looking for some old antiques to either pawn or decorate the nest with. A velvet jewelry box had caught her eye, sparking an old memory of what she had put inside long ago. 

Queen's collar. The last thing she had to remember the kitty by. It even had the tag with Sis's old address on it. Now it was a faded memory of what was once home for the two.

Any work that had captured Sis's focus was forgotten by her. She was completely stuck. Just staring at the trinket and letting tears slip down her cheeks as she grieved in silence.  

"My sweet," a raspy voice called to Sis, pulling her attention away. "What're you up to tonight?" 

David. Of course, he would pick the worst possible time to try to cause some mischief. Her grip tightened around the woven fabric of the old collar. Her hand trembled terribly, collecting all of her anxiety and anger into one tiny part of her body. 

How dare he show his face now? The murderer who took the innocent pet from this world too soon. Even with love and happiness and a beautiful family, Sis would never forget what a monster her husband was. He struck pure terror in her heart when he took her kitty away. 

He knew how much she loved her baby, and he still killed the cat without an iota of guilt in his blackened heart. 

"Nothing," Sis said, putting the collar back in the jewelry box before shoving it away. "Where's that bottle of absinthe we have?"

David raised an eyebrow at her question. When Sis needed a powerful drink, she usually went for vodka. She had to be in a really bad mental state if she wanted something even harder. 

Still, he knew exactly why she wanted it. He could hear all the mournful thoughts of the pet he destroyed long ago. Her lingering trauma from the incident with Cyrus made him realize she needed something to help her feel better.

"Bottom center cupboard on our drink shelf in the study," he told her. "It's tucked away in the very back."

Sis nodded, immediately taking leave. She kept her eyes focused on the ground she moved on, not meeting David's gaze. Though it wasn't exactly subtle, David excused that, as he knew her negative feelings were caused by him. 

The darkness in him did not feel remorse for what he did long ago. In his corrupted mind, it was a necessary step in the training to bring the little lady into his life. The queen of the undead needed to be aware that actions had consequences. 

Still, David and his boys had grown softer since Sis had come into their lives. She brought out warmth and love they had once assumed was gone when their humanity was destroyed. The past few years had been nothing but sacrifice from her. 

She deserved so much for all that she had given for this family. Perhaps the least he could do was provide a new companion as a replacement for Queen. Something protective and loyal, yet kind and gentle with her. Something to keep her safe. 

Something…..or someone. 

Current Day

Oliver wasn't sure what he did to deserve someone as fantastic as Sis, but he wasn't going to take it for granted. 

Ever since the girls night out she had with her lady friends, Oliver has gotten the opportunity to spend more and more time with her. It became a special bonding experience for the two of them. 

A few times a week, Sis would stroll into the restaurant on the arm of a gorgeous date or two. Sometimes it was her husbands, other times it was one of her girlfriends, and sometimes it was a fresh face that ended up disappearing before the date even ended. Oliver didn't know what their problem was ditching her like that, but that just motivated him into making her night extra special. 

Every time the closing hour came, Sis stuck around a little longer. She always saved some wine for the two of them to share, invited him to take a seat, and spent some time chatting with Oliver. 

It was one of his favorite things to look forward to during the week. He endured plenty of chaotic shifts just to get his moments alone with her. 

He was pleasantly surprised to find out how much they had in common. They both had a parent who lost their spouse, but still persisted in life, they both valued hard work, and they both adored children. It was just so easy to talk to her about the ups and downs of life. 

"I gotta say, you're really lucky having such a big family," Oliver complimented her over their drinks. "I wanted brothers and sisters so bad when I was a kid."

"I'm sure you would have been the best big brother to them," Sis assured him. It brings me joy to have my family by my side, but I do get what it's like to be lonely. To want some companionship."

That was certainly something Oliver could understand. His father couldn't bear to find love again when his mother passed. He didn't blame the guy, as he talked so highly of her when recounting stories of her life. Even if he could barely remember her, Oliver could tell his mother was the light of his father's life. 

He had always wanted to find that kind of love too. 

"I'm just grateful for all the after school stuff. Playing basketball with my friends and coaching the younger kids was always a highlight after my day."

"I think it's sweet how devoted you were to them," Sis cooed. "A good man who cares about little ones is hard to come by."

Oliver's cheeks flushed and his smile widened from his feelings of bashfulness. No matter how many nights he sat across from Sis and talked about life, he always found himself overwhelmed with positivity from her words. She was just so full of warmth and kindness. He treasured that quality in her more than she probably realized. 

"It's the least I could do. And even so, I think you're even more admirable. Being a parent to three babies and helping take care of several others is no small task."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do!" Oliver assured her. "I'm sure you're an amazing mom to them." 

Sis smiled back at the redheaded boy. Oliver had such a natural gift for making her happy. For far too long now she had heard the despicable thoughts of humans around her. Ones that saw her as a piece of meat to stick their dick into, or only told her pretty lies to get on her good side for their personal benefit. 

But whenever she gazed into his mind, she only saw kindness. Someone who genuinely wanted to listen and be her friend. Sure, he found her to be quite attractive, but his desire to be respectful outweighed everything else. He supported her other relationships and felt happy just getting the chance to spend time with her. 

The more she got to know him, the more Sis found herself growing attached to the human. So much to a point where the fear of going out into the cold, dark world was no longer as strong as it once was. 

"Ollie," she spoke, reaching outward to stroke her painted nails across his fingertips. "It's a beautiful night out. You wanna go for a walk along the beach?" 

Green eyes widened and his freckled cheeks stretched to accommodate his big smile.

"I'd love to!"

It had been ages since Sis felt comfortable enough to go out without her mates acting as security. Though she was well aware of their presence lurking in the shadows not too far from where she went, progress was still being made. 

Sis loved the open space of the Santa Carla Beach. Having a slower time in the year allowed her to enjoy the long miles of sand and water. Just the sounds of the breeze and the rocking waves to act as background. 

It was all so perfectly peaceful, and Oliver helped make it even more special. 

He truly was a gentleman, holding out his arm for her to hold onto. All she had to do was stay by his side and nuzzle close as she talked about whatever she wanted. 

All the while, Oliver's heart was racing like a jackrabbit. It made the vampire queen delighted to know he was so head over heels for her. Even without the physical reactions, she could still hear a massive collection of wild thoughts in his head. They all spun around like a tornado. 

She's so amazing. I feel like such a dork compared to her. Am I walking too fast? Too slow? Her perfume smells incredible. She's so beautiful. Don't fuck this up, Oliver. You're so lucky to be with her. 

I really want to kiss her. 

Sis sighed peacefully and relaxed against her tall companion. Such frantic thoughts made for the perfect lullaby to soothe a stressed vampire. 

"I'm sorry, am I being too quiet?" Oliver asked out loud. Little did he know he was being far from it in his head. 

"Not at all, darling~" Sis assured him. 

Boy, did that get his heart fluttering even faster. 

Sis enjoyed the sound of it all throughout their stroll. Even as they moved out of the sandy stretch of land and back onto the concrete sidewalks that connected into the city area, Sis was only focused on her companion.

So much to a point where she almost wasn't paying attention when a new presence made itself known. 

"FREEZE!" 

The sudden shout made the two of them jolt in surprise. Both their sets of eyes locked on a figure that had jumped out from behind a random street corner. A black ski mask covered the man's entire face while dark clothes and gloves covered the rest of his body. 

In his hand was a switchblade knife. Long and shining under the moonlight. Oliver's heart nearly stopped at the sight of the weapon. 

"Don't do anything stupid," the man hissed. "You're both gonna do exactly as I say. Got it?" 

Sis was not at all impressed by this idiotic robber. Too many times she'd dealt with his kind. They all wave around some weapon that can't actually do permanent damage on a creature like herself, make empty threats in exchange for money or jewelry, and yet scream like babies as she tore their throats out. They never learned their lesson. 

But Oliver didn't know that. In his mind, she was just as human as he was, and the first instinct he had was to protect her from getting hurt by this stranger. 

To Sis' surprise, Oliver gently tugged her behind his back. He put both his hands up in defense while keeping her blocked from any attacks he feared the robber would pull. 

"Okay okay," he said, trying his best to sound calm and collected. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her."

The robber gripped his switchblade tighter, waving it in the redhead's face.

"I won't hurt her so long as she hands over all the jewelry she's got on. Starting with that fancy looking choker."

If her heart still could beat, it would have skipped at that moment. Sis' eyes widened in fear and her hand fell to the base of her necklace out of instinct. 

Besides her wedding ring, that particular piece of jewelry meant the world to her. David had gifted it to her as a way to cover up the nasty scar that Cyrus left the night he took her head off. She couldn't stand the sight of it without the haunting memories, so David made sure she had the beautiful piece to cover it and take her mind off of that traumatizing experience. 

Not only that, but having a collar style brought her memories of when Queen was still alive. Though it wasn't like the collar her kitty had, such a style of jewelry had familiar aspects that gave Sis comfort. Like she would always have a piece of her companion with her. 

She couldn't bear the idea of getting her choker taken away. Oliver could sense the fear in her heart as she cowered behind him, gripping his arm tightly. 

He wouldn't let her get hurt in any way. 

"Look, man," Oliver said. "I've got over a hundred and fifty dollars from the tips I made tonight in my wallet. I've also got my debit card. They're all yours if you want, just please don't take her stuff."

"Oliver…" Sis whispered. She couldn't believe how even in the face of danger he was willing to sacrifice his own belongings so hers wouldn't be taken away.

That answer didn't fly with the robber though.  

"Fuck you, asshole! I said EVERYTHING," the robber snapped, getting angrier by the moment. He wasn't fucking around, and he made certain the two understood him loud and clear.

With a flick of his wrist, the robber swiped the switchblade outward, slicing towards Oliver. Though he jumped backward, the sharp edge nicked his skin, causing him to yipe out in pain. 

Sis was ready to start breaking bones and tearing limbs. How dare this piece of shit hurt Oliver? It was like kicking a puppy. Even so, he must have had the same thing in mind, because he acted faster than she did. 

Even with his new wound, Oliver moved swiftly, using a fist to knock the handle out of the robber's fingers. Merely half a second after that, he threw himself shoulder-first into the upper torso of his attacker, knocking him off balance and sending him down on his ass. It was truly a "blink and you'll miss it" moment. 

"Leave us alone, creep!" Oliver scolded at him, kicking the discarded switchblade across the pavement and into a nearby storm drain. It clanged against metal bars before disappearing from sight. 

Even with a disarmed and injured attacker, Oliver and Sis didn't wait around to see what he planned next. Hand-in-hand, they ran in the opposite direction, putting plenty of distance in between themselves and him. With a good pace, they were able to make it out of the area and back to the entrance of his apartment building. Even something small and dingy was better than dealing with a mugging. 

"Ollie, you crazy boy!" Sis said in shock, ushering him inside. She couldn't believe the amount of bravery the human had shown. "You could have gotten hurt worse. You could have gotten killed!" 

Even with her frightened expression, Oliver returned one with a soft look in his eyes. 

"So could you," he pointed out. "I was scared to death he was gonna do something bad to you. I couldn't let that happen!" He tried to fish his apartment keys out, but was too distracted by the blood dripping and pain shooting in his hand. 

Though the bright red painted his pale skin beautifully, Sis was surprisingly not in the mood to feed. Her undead heart was aching over how Oliver put himself in danger like that. He had no idea how unnecessary it was to do something courageous for a vampire. 

"Let's get you patched up, Hun," she cooed, taking the keys from his grasp in order to unlock the door.

Though Oliver didn't have much since moving to Santa Carla, he at least had preparations for emergencies. A hefty first aid kit was packed away under the kitchen sink, completely stocked with enough gauze, disinfectant, and wound cleaning supplies for a whole army. 

Even with his competency in caring for the cut, Sis still helped as much as she could. She tenderly held his injured hand while he used the good one to finish cleaning and bandaging. Her soft fingers caressed his skin to help soothe him more. 

"There! Good as new!" Oliver stated proudly. His hand would heal in no time. 

"Well, at least let me help a little bit more," Sis offered. She lifted Oliver's hand to her lips, gently kissing over his bandages. Whenever one of her babies got a boo boo, she did the same thing. It made the redhead smile. 

"That does help me feel better, thank you.*

The two of them fell silent for a moment. It made Sis ponder about what this boy had done for her. For months now he had taken care of her as a go-to server. He loved to wait on her hand and foot. The nights they spent drinking wine and talking about life made her feel like her heart could start beating again. He was just so genuine and sweet. 

And now he had proven he'd put his life on the line for her. Though she was more than capable of protecting herself, Cyrus had taken away a piece of her bravery. Her dignity. Her power. 

Oliver returned it to her. He wouldn't ever let anything hurt her when she was out enjoying the night she was reborn into. That was something she couldn't possibly repay him for in thanks. 

But it couldn't hurt to try anyway. 

"Maybe this will help even more," she whispered. With her eyes fluttering shut and her body moving forward, Sis brought herself in nice and close so she could kiss him. 

The hammering of Oliver's heart was like a sympathy in her ears. His lips were red-hot on her chilled skin. Her breathless body enjoyed the sigh of delight he let out. Both his arms wrapped around her as she took hold of his face in her hands. 

He was practically putty in her hands now. Warm and cozy and full of joy. 

Oh God, I think I love her. 

Make that full of love. 

Outside the apartment, a familiar figure was watching the dim light flicker in one of the windows. Smoke puffed past his lips as he took another lungful of his cigarette. He had gone through the whole smoke, and yet he didn't once take his eyes off of the silhouette before him. 

His wife was kissing the human waiter. A passionate kiss. One that radiated with gratitude and warmth. He would have been overwhelmed by the little green monster called jealousy if he knew Sis would push her luck with Oliver. But she didn't. Their kiss ended with the two holding each other. A hug of great tenderness to share their gratitude in one anothers safety. 

He knew Sis was falling for Oliver. She would have drained him ages ago if she wasn't. Though he preferred to see his fellow coven members touch his bride rather than some lowly human, he knew this was what was best for her. She needed a new love. A companion to make her feel safe. 

"Everything go alright, my king?" 

David turned his head away from the window to look at the guest he now had. Hidden in the shadows was a figure clothed from head to toe in black. A ski mask shielded his face. 

"It did," he answered, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the ground. "You can take the mask off. Nobody will see you."

The figure nodded before peeling the mask off his head. A mess of dark curls were freed, revealing the appearance of Matthew, Oliver's coworker. It wasn't long ago that he had offered the redhead advice on playing it safe around David and his wife. To be good and live to see another day. 

But even those who looked out for the innocent in Santa Carla still remained trapped under the claws of the vampire king. 

"You did good tonight, kid," David complimented him. He slipped a gloved hand into his pocket, revealing a massive envelope stuffed full with five thousand dollars. Much more than what Oliver has offered to spare Sis. 

Matthew frowned, hesitating at the reward. It never felt right doing things like this, and it never got better. 

"I hope I didn't hurt him too bad. I wish I had used a fake knife instead…"

"Nonsense! It wouldn't have been authentic," David smirked, pushing the cash into Matthew's hand. 

"Don't beat yourself up over it. You did your job, and now you can go home to that handsome fiancé of yours. I'm sure that money will be quite helpful for your wedding. Ian's a very lucky guy. Wouldn't want to lose someone special like that, right?" 

Matthew gulped, hands trembling and growing clammy from the king mentioning his husband-to-be. He had made threats to stop by for a visit if Matthew didn't agree to this in the first place. 

"Yes, my king," he sighed. "So long as you and the queen are happy, then we're happy". 

David grinned devilishly to himself. Now that the redheaded boy had passed the test, he knew for certain he was going to make the perfect gift for Sis. With his eyes moving back over the light of the window, his mind danced with devious plans of what was to come next for Oliver. 

"Oh believe me, I am ecstatic." 

end of part 3

Tag List:

@ghoulgeousimmaculate @aairadaebak @vampirefilmlover @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @crustyraccoon @charlizekkelly

[sunofpandora]

Collision 🌀🌌

𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: 𝕒 𝕤𝕟𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕟 𝕦𝕡𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕠’𝕒𝕜 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕀’𝕞 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 😍

I love neteyam.

But, I have a confession.

I’m a Lo’ak girl at heart.

Or maybe it’s just because I was also “the problem kid” or the “troublemaker” when I was a teen? (I always felt kinda out of place in my family because in truth I didn’t look anything like my siblings or parents) I don’t even think it’s because I'm attracted to him. I just love that kid so much. I just wanna wrap him into a blanket and protect him from everything. My little burrito 💙

I just wanna keep him safe and tell him everything is okay-

Give this kid some love!

I’ve been wanting to wirte a series for a long, LONG time. But I was afraid to write in other fandoms just because of judgement. But for some Eason I feel so safe In the avatar community, and I love this franchise so much. I thought, “hey, why not?”

So, I whipped up this sample of a Lo’ak story I had planned.

This is kinda like a ‘test drive’ so I’m looking for feedback.

Just to get a feel of what y’all would like to see in a story.

I’m thinking sun and moon romance trope (Lo’ak is the moon, reader is the sun), very fluffy, but a fair amount of angst, (DONT WORRY YALL I ALMOST ALWAYS TO HAPPY ENDINGS)

Lots of sully family shenanigans, lots of love from our fav sully siblings, maybe a little bit of ooc Lo’ak? Probably only because I’m just starting out I promise I’ll get better)

(I designed the cover myself. What Do we think? 😍)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Lo’ak sully swore Eywa played favorites.

And I know what you’re thinking, but I promise you it’s true.

Lo’ak was never really one to believe in forces beyond explanation.

Omens, angels, powers beyond his reach. And yet, his mind always wondered off the ground.

Lo’ak was a beastly child and a rebellious teenager, to the dismay of others. His fathers son. Much like his father, his heart spoke louder than his mind.

“Strong heart”. Those were the words his father had said Neytiri had spoken to him. The day they met. The day the stars aligned and two hearts disregarded the burdens of a cruel reality, and found a home within a war. Found intimacy through the most painful of grieving.

Lo’ak knew the stars would never align for him in such a way.

And how could they?

Put Lo’ak on a pedestal?

What had he done to deserve it?

He wasn't a cute, innocent “get away with murder” Tuktirey.

He wasn't sweet, sweet Kiri.

And he was rusted silver in contrast to the golden boy, Neteyam.

What stars would align for him?

And why?

At least, that’s what he thought.

Until her met her.

Lo’ak was 8 when he met y/n. An orphan taken in by a warrior and placed among the Omaticaya after the death of her mother and sister.

And for once in his life, Lo’ak knew the stars had aligned for him.

For you.

the sun set and rose with you, the stars danced across your face, sculpted by the celestial’ s themselves.

Lo’ak was drawn to her, and the reminiscence of the nostalgia in her eyes. I reminiscing in her laugh, bright enough to challenge the sun and the sky. The absence of the atonement of loneliness, in snowfall she claimed as stars, in the rainfall she affirmed carried ghosts that cherish the fragments of their lives within the darkness of the clouds, because the vexatious luminescent antagonist we claim to be sunlight, provides no sanctuary to a ghost.

Lo’ak had told the stars about her.

Her smile is a shield to the burdens of the world.

She is a puzzle piece of the universe, she belongs wherever her mind allows her.

She doesn’t feel the weight of where she stands, she’d rather pretend. She’ll pretend she’s in her flower field, tangling her fingers with the flowers, falling deaf to the insults of reality, dancing with atokirina,s under the miridical last salvageable stretches of a sunset.

She is composed of stories.

Captivating, euphonious stories.

The sun flirts with her eyes,

Have you ever tried to neglect what you love? Even if it’s existence is as binding as what you loathe.

Lo’ak wants nothing more on Pandora than to trace hands over her stories, her whispers, her flowers, her smile.

But would his hands taint the sun in her eyes?

Beautiful things must remain unscathed.

Nothing mattered when he was with her.

But she was beyond his reach.

[shi-daisy]

Quiet Comfort

Hi everyone! Tamlin Week has begun and I'm very excited! I love our golden boy and while I have full length fic with him (This is a self ad go read A Court of Threads & Daisies 👀) I can't wait to try my hand at making mini fics with our cutie! 💚 Today on the agenda hurt/comfort Tamcien with beastly Tam. Hope you like!

@tamlinweek2023

Tamlin Week 2023- Day 1- Beast/Forbidden

Quiet Comfort (Set 20 years before book 1)

Lucien noticed the tears streaming down Tamlin's wolf like face. The High Lord had remained in his beastly form whenever he felt one of their own fall for the sake of the curse.

He stood up from his desk, laying down on the fluffy carpet beside Tamlin and gently drying his eyes.

Tamlin tried to stop the tears to no avail. He knew this was inevitable but from first to whatever last if they ever managed to see the end of it, he would grieve.

"I'm so tired." Tamlin spoke in a ragged roaring voice in this form. It always cought him off guard.

"Do you want to go to sleep?"

"No, no that's not what I meant." He said, looking at Lucien with his shimmering emerald eyes. "I'm tired of losing them because of the curse."

Ah. That he understood all too well. Almost everyday they'd lose a sentry, and after 30 years everyone was begining to lose hope, them included.

"I know what you mean, it dosen't get any easier."

Lucien found comfort in just looking at his High Lord. The green gaze, the fluffy golden frame, his antlers, even his downcast tail. No matter what form he took, he was always in awe. 'That's not awe you just love him.'

Lucien tried to shake the thought away. They had an unspoken agreement not to dwell on this, they had to break the curse for the sake of the court not mourn a romance that would never bloom again thanks to the blasted spell.

Tamlin looked at him in the same way, as if he could read his thoughts. He was trying, really trying to let go. But how can you let go when you actually found the love of your life?

Amarantha must've known, she must've seen how he would never be hers, how he'd been in love with the seventh Autumn prince since he first met him, how hurting Lucien insited more rage out of him than anything else she'd ever done. Perhaps if he'd been more guarded none of this would've happened...

"It's not your fault." Lucien told him. "She's the monster, not you."

"If I had submitted from the start, then the court wouldn't be in peril. It is my duty to protect them."

"Then who protects you?! Tamlin, you can't seriously think sacrificing yourself for our sake is prefrerable!"

Tamlin just kept looking at Lucien, at his lovely face covered by the fox mask, his golden eye and his russet one, the messy red curls and the soft dark skin. "Your mere presence is protection enough. I can withstand anything if I have you. I could even lived out the rest of my days in this form, without objection, if you're with me."

He should've told him off, he should've refused, or just reminded him that the love they had for eachother was now forbidden. They had to think of the court, they shouldn't be selfish and yet...

Lucien leaned closer, gently kissing Tamlin's lips. He didn't care that the latter was in beast form, or that there might come a day were he couldn't kiss him anymore. For now, all he wanted was to comfort him. "No matter what happens, what form you take, or whatever curses we face, I shall always love you."

"Me too." Tamlin didn't hesitate. Even if he did exactly as the curse entailed, even if he and Lucien ended up with different people, they'd never stop loving eachother in their own way.

Tamlin couldn't kiss him in this form, so he just gave him an affectionate lick. Lucien laughed relishing in the soft affections he missed so much.

The two were already sleepy, driffiting away upon the office floor. They both dozed off in an odd hug, given the size difference when Tamlin was in this form. By morning they'd have to forget, to keep trying to break the curse and forget their ill fated romance.

But for tonight they'd bask in eachothers warmth, and forget that moments like this would come to an end someday.

[shade-without-color]

So I have been honoured to work for @inu-spiration on a Midokirin story that touched upon a genre that I have yet to try- Femmine Horror, in which the horror elements are focused on femme/AFAB experiences like for example: how we women perceive our bodies in the male gaze or the role of motherhood. (This is perhaps one of the many many examples I could make up), because I have been watching a lot of Bluebeard's Bride Tabletop Role-playing Game, hence me trying this idea

I will attach the creator Whitney's demonstration of playing this game in order to get the context of how I rolled with it

And I tell you that I am super squeamish about horror in general- but working on this story for the past 3 months has proved challenging for me, as the topics I write are super heavy but I am so proud of what is to come!

Quick trigger warnings: This excerpt contains gaslighting and violence against women. Please heed it with caution!

“Well yes…”, Midoriko clutched the chipped porcelain plate like a precious pearl in her hands, gazing at her lovely face “I am wedded to the master….”, she quickly stood her ground with little knowledge of that spectre in mind. The lovely lady, dressed in the most transparent  nightgown smiled a little, giving a coquettish gaze to her. “Oh….oh my dear….” She decided to grasp Midoriko tightly to the point that she cannot breathe. “Your master is of a beastly one…”, that the chipped porcelain plate broke into many shards, with one of them nearly piercing her foot, and her hands slowly growing into long talons. Midoriko shivered at the sight of her claws clawing over her shoulders, blood nearly oozing from her embrace, and the other hand plucking out the flowers from her hair, trying to blind her.

“And henceforth, I shall implore you to be submissive to him….”

God.

God.

God.

God.

Midoriko, quickly taking on her warrior position grabbed that large shard of that porcelain plate, stabbing that spectre, staining her wedding dress with her blood, which only disappeared into ash, floating away to the sky, to hear a creaking sound to see the servant staring at her blankly.

“Madam, madam, madam….I heard a loud scream from the corridors”

The young girl quickly curtsey to her, carrying fluffy towels and a clean bathrobe, only swallowing her to see her face and dress caked in blood- and Midoriko heaved a sigh of relief. “I am….” Midoriko tried to repress the trembling in her voice. “I…would like a bath right now….please” 

[mkau-fleshpits]

Finally! I MADE A PROPER REF FOR HERRRR AAAA Anyways, this is Torr's Mom otherwise known as the Queen of Brutes! Her name is Miarr (pronounced 'Mee-yarr' if ya'll are wonderin :D)

For the inspiration of her outfit, I was thinking about the older MK games like Armageddon and thought the less fabric the better!

Badass skull shouder-gaurds too up her savage look

Chains and ropes to hold what lil cloth and armour she has, it also doubles as a makeshift 'saddle' for past body Ferra (Also needs to explain this but aaaaa details be hard to throw all at one post!) to use

Very fluffy mane that reflects her beastly demeanor! It also serves as a comfortable hiding place to watch newcomers and judging if they can be trusted from the rider's perspective (Miarr's huge, so people tend to mistake that she's just by herself when ya encounter her)

Here's the anatomy refs toos! I'll add more details like scars and such om the final color :)

Hope I dont get shadowbanned for this one... it's only a drawing Tumblr pls :(

Thank you so much and a greater thanks a bunch if ya read up to here, I really appreciate the likes and reblogs I'm super greatful peeps enjoy seeing my lil ideas and sketches in my berri-brain :3 Hope ya'll have a nice day!

[seventeendeer]

what did catras hair do to you...........that sounds so interesting

admitteldy I just didn't think it looked very good haha!

I feel like catra's design is best accentuated by her big, wild hair, as it contrasts well with her scrawny body type + it helps her look more beastly (like a lion's mane!).

I get that they did it for practicality and for symbolism, but I think catra's hair is one of her most recognizable traits, so cutting it off was a misstep. without it, she looks too basic/doesn't stick out enough compared to the rest of the cast. her design ends up with a very non-descript silhouette.

one way to keep the short hair while still retaining the swagger of her design from previous seasons could have been to give her a big fluffy shawl or similar. her final season 5 design just looks a bit ... peeled.

[calliedion-dungeon]

🜏The beastly ones are in command

Read on ao3 here <<<

Mary Goore has a Poltergeist attached to them

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Mary Goore is contacted by a Parapsychologist regarding of the events that have been developing during his entire life, throughout the interview, Mary will recount strange events that have affected those around him and in some cases destroyed others, but the entity never seems to hurt him, only those who have wronged him.

Warning: Mary Goore - Poltergeist,Implied/References Child Abuse. Rated Mature Please mind the tags

As the sun hides between the clouds, like a child who hides his face with the sheets so that the shadow that peeks out of the closet does not see it, so we are all, at the end of the day, skeptics and believers, we are those children, those who do not want to see because they believe, always end up seeing by suggestion and those who do not believe desperately want to see in order to believe.

Or maybe one says that none of those sightings are true, those unexplained events do have some explanation that escapes our comprehension, we deny it even if we do see it in front of our eyes, we deny it just so we don’t look stupid. Suddenly, it takes more guts to believe after all.

Stepping on the tail of his cigarette that was already about to die out, Mary takes one long look to the building in front of them, since it was a rainy day, the air was pleasant, the gray building seems melting dripping water through the rain gutter splashing on the ground, his hair is damp, his leather boots protects them from the rain but not from the cold, however the sweater under the leather jacket was doing wonders, his lower limbs are getting a little stiffer, so they better get in the establishment.

It was the fickle finger of faith that lead them into that place, specifically in the department of paranormal studies at a university, he felt a little out of his element in the campus, even so, the desire to tell his experience when they made a call to all those who have had paranormal experiences was too irresistible to him, so, the best case is that this is going to be the longest afternoon of their life, the worse is that it will be the quickest interview ever, in case nobody believed them, like always.

No long after, they were standing in an office, that look more like a psychologist’s, the lady that was leading the research project was sitting in her desk, she had light, almost whitish eyes, naturally reddish hair, tied up in a ponytail, and introduces herself as Diana Ramirez, senior lecturer in psychology and a member of the Parapsychology Unit.

“I am so pleased to have you here; would you kindly take a seat?” she offers him something to drink, while Mary sits on a very fluffy long sofa “Now, I’m going to tape this interview like we said on the phone, so we can begin with you saying out loud your name, age, how did you found out about us and start from there, any questions?” asks the young lady, taking a look to Mary as he gets comfortable on the sofa, she didn’t know what to expect as to what he looked like, on the phone she just was surprise by how young he sounded.

“Can I smoke in here?” she looks a little confused at first, but extends a smile and hands him a small plate that could serve them as an ashtray even if it wasn’t one.

“I’ll just open a window a little if you don’t mind” she does so, and he removes his jacket and lights a cigarette, getting comfortable on the sofa, shortly after he lights one cigarrette.

“a’ight it’s kinda warm in here” Now both sitting comfortably on their seats, Diana prepares to start recording, an unknown wave of nerves invades Mary, that almost never happens, like he’s nervous to speak boldly for once.

“You can start now” she says as she hits the button of the little artifact on the desk, while she gives a reassuring smile.

“Uhh, my name’s Mary Goore, I’m somewhere in my twenties… ok, 25 years of age, I knew about this because one of my buddies studies philosophy around here” Mary says with a little tremble in their voice, feeling a little off.

“Good, why did you decide to come here today?” she asks while looking around her desk for something, she mutters to herself where her pen got.

“It’s in the second drawer, between the pages of a purple notebook” she looks up to him, arching an eyebrow, slowly she opens the second drawer, where she left the notebook earlier, opens it and finds her favorite pen, now this is going to be an interesting interview.

“How did you know that?” Diana asks instinctively, even if she can guess the answer.

“Something told me” he makes a tender smile, feeling more at ease, it’s all about to sense if he can prove that what he will say it’s true.

“Does that happen often?” she says, opening her notebook and clicking her pen loudly.

“Yes, I was the nightmare of any tutor, I always found the Christmas presents wherever they were” they share a little smile to one another.

“How does it come to you? An image, maybe voices?” the pen makes sound as it dances around the paper, Diana doesn’t look down to see what she’s writing.

“I… in my mind it’s like the image of the object and a path to follow of where it is and is surrounded in darkness” Mary closes their eyes trying to remember if it was always like that.

“You mention a tutor, where you adopted?” Mary clench his fist above his thigh.

“Never officially, I bounced from home to home, from family members to foster parents, everyone passed me to another relative like a hot potato” Mary chuckles a little, but there’s no joy in the sound.

“What about your parents, did you know them?” she asks as delicately as she can.

“Can’t remember, they told me it was better that way, I only have scars, on my legs, arms and back and this…” they raise the hair on their forehead, showing a cross-shaped mark on the hairline “If I scratch it too much it bleeds, wanna see?” he says amused.

“N-no, it’s quite alright, thank you” she says hastily, a little disturbed, looking down at her notebook, writing with a shaky hand. Diana clears her throat “So… what is your earliest memory of a manifestation?”

“When I was like four, maybe younger, I remember balls and some toys floating around like right in front of me, it never hit me, the things that flew out always hit others, although there weren't many people, I was alone a lot” He said as he took out a small package from his leather jacket, along with negative film roll “I have photographs with the negatives, you can test it, it always appears as a hand, like this one, behind the furniture there was a wall, and in this you can see the hand coming out of the earth, always making sound with their long nails” He shows her the photographs spreading them on the desk, she takes them with great interest, takes the roll of negative film directly from his hands. The pictures looked harmless at first, but then after a short scan to it, it certainly looked like a hand, a hand, peeking from impossible places, dark, of inhuman proportions, with an unknown texture, the closest thing that comes to mind is like a tree bark, however nothing in it seemed to be rough to the eye, even in the photograph you can perceive the movement in which it was captured.

“I see… Most people are not so sure of telling an anecdote like this, I assume that because you have proof, you feel so sure. So other people have seen the phenomena with you?” Diana asks, hardly taking her eyes off the pictures, she feels enraptured by them.

“A handful, only the hand when I was with other kids at school, most people just feel its presence and maybe that is why people avoid me” he says as he sits back on the sofa, stretching his arms on each side of the back.

“Where you teased as a child?” words leaving her lips slowly, she asks because in the pictures nobody is near him “Bullied?” the other children in the group pictures didn’t even looked in his direction, except when they were pointing out at the monstrous hand growing from the dirt.

“Yeah, a lot, kids and adults alike, why?” it seems Mary didn’t think of it as much “Does it matter?”

“It depends on certain aspects of your life, I will be certain at the end of this, emotions are more important than we can think of, it varies from one manifestation to another and of course, how do you relate to it” Diana explains while she moves on her seat again.

“That makes more sense then…” Mary says after blowing smoke to the window “Most of my life, I had felt full of anger, or sad, rejected, segregated, when someone bullied me at school, I almost never defended myself and I regret it, but I always had that feeling of wanting to explode, to ravish all of them, but instead I only sat there shaking somewhere waiting for that accumulated energy to leave me” they conclude wetting his lips looking at the floor.

“Go on…” Diana encourages.

“At home, wherever the fuck that was, I would look at this figure coming out of the corner of my room, it was all dark, and it was looking at me, with white eyes, it was as tall as the ceiling, sometimes it seemed to crouch because it did not fit in the room, as the years passed it looked more human, I know because it always reached out its hand to take mine, just like in the first picture” they say pointing at the ceiling of the office like they can envision the figure where they seat.

In the photo he mentions, he’s seen as a boy in a group photo of his classroom, he has his hand raised and the huge rotten-looking hand peeking out from the edge of the photo taking the hand of the little boy with the absent expression.

“The things that happened at home were various, nothing that had not been heard before, things that fell, people that had accidents, voices in empty rooms, I sleepwalked every night, during that I said things that were yet to happen, I also threatened everyone when I was in that state, about how everyone would pay for what they did once the time is come, you know, the usual” they laugh openly, like they where just waiting to tell that to somebody.

Diana looks up wide-eyed, hoping what she heard was a joke. It wasn’t, yet they laughed at it.

“Has anyone ever been hurt?” she put off asking that as long as she could, from the progression of the narrative it seemed like the right moment.

“It’s a long list, better get comfortable” Mary says with a smile “Once I had a little boyfriend when I was twelve years old, he also wanted to be a musician, but it bothered him that I played better and wrote my own shit, he said so himself, one day he broke up with me over the phone and told me that I had only been a bet, it turns out that bet it was with the girl he was cheating on me with, two days later he was hit by an empty car, in a driveway, he hurt his back and arm so badly that he couldn't play anymore” no laugh this time, only puffing smoke in the air.

“Did he…?” Diana asks nervous leaning forward to her desk.

“Oh! He’s alive, don’t worry. Just nobody could figure how the car moved by itself, and I was so fucking angry and devastated at the time, I cried for years for him…” he scratches his hair remembering the incident.

“On another occasion, an idiot from school was kicking a poor dog, I stepped in to stop him, they ended up kicking me on the ground among many people until I lost consciousness, the dog was able to escape, but not for long, the next day it died, I looked at that idiot with hate every day, until I myself could see when one of those huge neon lights fell on his head when he was walking down the stairs, I thought about the unlikely chances of that happening, from me capturing that moment, and that it fell only to him just as he passed” as he tells the story, his eyes change, as if he were transported back to that moment, this happens in all the anecdotes.

“Very unlikely, I agree…” says Diana “So it’s been only accidents, that you witness?” she asks encouraging them to continue.

“Not always, those who could live to tell about it, say they managed to see me close, and a red flash before the accident happened” they say a little bit too loosely.

“Who didn’t live to tell?” if she wasn’t nervous before.

“That one’s a longer list” Mary rubs his hands on his arms careful not to burn himself with the cigarette “My grandmother, the short time I lived with her, beat me constantly, despite being a child, because I had to pay for my stay at her house, she saw many of the common manifestations, after being scared one time she fell from a stair, she broke many parts of her body, in those I was not at home. When I was taken from her custody, her kidneys ruptured and she died in the hospital after days of agonizing pain. I heard that the fluid they drained from her was dark, it didn't look like normal urine, and her mouth was so full of infections and inflamed, as if she were decomposing before she died” even Mary looks disturbed by that one.

“Once outside the school, some girls beat me up, they were much bigger, they dragged me out into the street so that no one would hear, because the spring dance was taking place inside the school, while after the leader got tired of kneeling me in the fucking nose, the others threw me into a garbage can, then a car passed at high speed, it raised a few stones, they shot out like bullets, the leader fell to the ground, they say it was like a bullet to the head, the others ended up very fucked up, but alive, while the trash can protected me, again... what were the chances?” frowning, Mary takes the cigarette to his lips, but doesn’t inhale “I’ll admit, not proudly, that I was glad that happened, I remember going to the funeral, walked up to her body and whispered ‘everything is paid in this life’ and… Somebody told me her mother died shortly after, she was her favorite daughter…” silence fills the room for a moment, even she stops writing.

“Do you mind if I do a little test while you talk?” Diana speaks to take them out of their thoughts “It’s an aura reading machine” Diana takes out a device that connects to the computer, it looks like a box with some buttons with a palm-shaped figure on top, she makes a hand gesture to sit on the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Sure, just let me…” he takes one last puff before squeezing the rest on the plate.

“Place your hand on top of this sensor, it takes the energy that you emit, this is the camera, now, if you have another anecdote to share, keep your hand still, ok?” she presses the buttons to start the lecture “When you finish, stay still and make a pause so I can capture and interpret your energy”

“Got it, doctor” they say rubbing their eyes “Sorry…” they scratch their eyes again but with the collar of the shirt, the itching from not sleeping during the day as usual is bothering them.

“There was this teacher, who had something against me, I was able to prove it, she was going to fail me and I asked the director to help me, we were able to verify that the teacher erased my answers from the exams to give me a bad grade; sometime later, she told her students that when she went to the bathroom, everything she shat was black as oil, at first it sounded funny, until she said she wasn't hungry anymore, but even so, she was able to go to the bathroom constantly, she found out she had ruptured an ulcer, of which she never had any symptoms and she was digesting her own blood until the internal bleeding was too much to control, she passed away in the hospital shortly after I graduated”

After telling the story, Mary looks directly at the camera, not speaking and a little smirk crawls from the corner of his lips. The young doctor feels a chill on her back, seeing the progression of the photographs she is taking, she sees magenta waves on the sides of his body, almost in the shape of wings, hovering on his head there is a black wave, in some photos they appear as if they were limbs that surround him, either to protect him or to catch him, that remains to be seen, Diana suppresses a gasp and instead of saying something, swallows saliva. Being the professional that she is, she does not intend to hide any discovery from him.

Immediately she notices that he must be a great observer, with the things he has learned from his experiences, while looking at him through the screen, without knowing why, she does not dare to see him directly, since his eyes have become so dark that you can barely see the white area in them, not only does she feel observed, she feels intimidated with her pitch black eyes, the screen begins to have interference and some threads of blood can be seen running through his face, the dark tendrils expand across the screen covering almost the entire image except him, it seems that there’s only him in the void in front of her, looking at her with a ferocious expression as if he were about to jump on her.

“Doctor?... Doctor?... Doctor!” He snaps her out of the screen, he was standing in front of her one of his hands almost reached her “What the fuck just happened?” he enquires in a calm tone, sitting down again.

“Did you see it?” she asks, trying to suppress how upset she is.

“Not right now, by your face I sense that you have” Mary says “Does it look different from what I described? It changes as years go by, like I said” they smile at the doctor, genuinely interested in what she might think of them now.

“I'm not sure yet, I only saw you, but it wasn't you, it was something else... I felt something horrible, yet comforting, like a boundless emptiness that wrapped me for a second, like flying over a precipice without fear of falling while the world falls together with me, I saw its core and it didn't scare me as much as I thought seeing it would, it will happen to all of us, I don't know how to explain myself better” Diana describes looking back to the screen, where the image went back normal again “Do you want to keep going?”

“I’m perfectly fine, maybe it’s you who should take a break, doctor” they say laughing, looking a lot more relaxed.

“Don’t mind me. If you let me, can I do a little polygraph test?” the doctor asks as she disconnects everything from the previous test.

“I’m down for it” then she begins to fix the cables, which she connects to the computer like the previous test, and takes out the famous polygraph with the paper and the needles that draw the signals, Mary looks very amused to all the artifacts, they had always wanted to do one of those tests, Diana announces that she’s going to strap the sensors to their torso “Careful, doctor, you break it, you buy it” they joke lightly, getting a chuckle form her.

“You’ve told me about, family and school, what about working places in your adulthood?” the doctor speaks as she sits again, and finally clamps their fingers with the sensor, Mary moves their fingers tapping on the desk. They first start the polygraph by doing the same questions when the interview started, answering the same.

“Has somebody ever mistreat you at a job?” she continues to ask.

“In my first two jobs, there was intimidation, only by direct bosses, in both they also forced me to resign, I was a loader in both places, after I left the business almost disappeared, they failed to such an extent that entire franchises were reduced just one venue”

“There was this girl, Emily, I really liked her, we worked in a bookstore, like I said I was just in the warehouse carrying boxes, she suffered from obsessive-compulsive disorder and couldn't get on with the day if she didn't organize the shelves in alphabetical order, our boss yelled at her a lot in front of the customers rushing her to finish and that she didn't care that she had a problem, I could hear her crying and the anger in me build up in seconds, I wanted to do something with all my strength, when I approached to tell what I thought to that horrible woman, part of the ceiling fell next to her, making a hole in the floor, when everyone left the area because of what happened, the bookcases on the boss's desk began to fall without explanation, a girl end up trapped between a bookcase and a table, she didn't get hurt, we both quit soon after, but Emily had so many things to worry about in her life that I didn't make a move on her” Mary sighs after telling that story, a bit melancholic.

“Nobody died in your past jobs?” she asks scribbling on the notebook.

“Yeah, two employees of the first, and the owner of my second job, along with half of the staff, but I don’t know the details of what happened to them” they rearrange position in their chair.

“And the boss that yelled at the girl? Nothing happened to her?” the doctor asks.

“Her favorite son tried to commit suicide, but I didn’t link that to what is happening to me, still sad tho” Mary concludes watching of the test machine paper roll to the floor.

“Have you had other jobs?” Diana proceeds to take a sip of water without loosing focus on the machine.

“This happened in a bar where we played at, even for me that was weird, something I hadn’t seen before, one day me and the band arrived at the place and they had closed temporarily because everything was flooded, it was on a terrace, there was no other floor above, and there was no pipes in the ceiling, it hadn't rained, nobody could explain why everything was soaked in water, they never found the source, many objects and seats in the bar were ruined because mold grew overnight. We thought that someone brought the water but in fact it was found to be falling from the ceiling, even so it was not found where it came from exactly” Mary looks to the window and says.

“Ain’t a little late now?” says Mary realizing that the interview should’ve lasted an hour and have been nearly four.

“Gosh! I didn’t notice the time” Diana takes her phone, looking how many notifications she has and didn’t know “Do you think you can come some other day?” she proposes to Mary still with phone in hand.

“Don’t know, I’m not use to staying up during the day…” he says scratching the back of his head smiling “But hey! Aren’t you going to tell me my results?” he asks tapping his fingers on the desk, making noise because of the sensors that hang on his fingers.

“Sure, it’s not very deep yet, but here’s what I could gather for today, just remember this isn’t conclusive” she gets up to help Mary to take off the sensors on the torso “Regarding your situation, there is definitely some kind of entity attached to you, I cannot identify what type, but it does not seem to be something that is hurting you, this being is linked to your emotions, all those grudges, that pain and anger, that desire to... I wouldn't call it justice, more like a punishment” taking away all the wires from them, she also adds…

“What seems peculiar to me is how it seems that you can even handle it, use it to your advantage through remote vision, telekinesis, even send this entity to other people” she says surprised “That agrees with the tests I have done on you, the colors of your aura, they presented to me that you are someone quite anti-establishment, independent, a good heart, you’re honest with yourself and everyone, so, what you have told me is true”

“Damn right it is!” Mary says proudly “But don’t tell about the good heart shit” they say more coyly, the doctor only smiles.

“Don’t worry about it, just as a note, to learn to forgive and let go, may help with the severity of those manifestations, I know you wish to make things right, just don’t let it drag you down” She comments more as personal advice than part of the study she is doing, since she’s not so sure how many precautions Mary has taken to be more cautious with their situation.

“I know that, I’ve learned to control more my mood and stuff, making music it’s the main thing that helps me, I write what I see in my dreams” they say nodding and smiling, more serious than before.

“Really? What kind of music do you make?” Diana asks curious, looking into their eyes.

“Well…”

[zorkaya-moved]

" run your mouth like you do so well , you did this to yourself . " / valtr.

@wonderloste

In these moments, it felt like looking into the mirror. The words spoken, the tone, the way he looked at her. It was familiar yet not. Zarina could tell him the same thing: your mouth is what got you here. She, too, spoke her pride and wore it on her sleeve before the Queen of Hearts. Valtr wasn’t wrong: it was her mistakes that led her here, post-mortem. Just like with the White Rabbit, once again she owed her life to another denied of Wonderland. It almost felt disgusting if not ironic. Two rabbits; black and white. Sokolova wondered if her like for fluffy plushies played a role in being saved by these fluffy yet ridiculously dangerous individuals. As if Darcy White was harmless, as if Valtr was harmless. None of them was and none of the denizens within Wonderland was. It made her smirk internally, but it was more of a self-reflected scorn. 

“I’m well aware,” she responds with a smile on her face, not taking any insult from his words alone. It’s the truth, he speaks no lies to her at this moment. Not that she believes him unconditionally, but she can say to herself just fine. However, there is no shame nor there is a regret to what she said before her head was cut. The only regret that remains is the loss of her accessories (her chains). “However, I am still here, aren’t I? Quite lucky.”

He saved her, he rescued her. He brought her back. What could she name it if not luck? Now, if they took away her chains, she’ll take away their ground. This land, this place, this experience… She never asked for it. They took her away from her world and trapped her here, they killed her. There was no affection for this world, no love and no instance of wishing it well. Valtr was the bringer of good news to her: he cared not about Wonderland, it seemed. Or, perhaps, he cared but he would let her beastly nature run across the fields and take away lives.

Maybe, she should listen to the old myths from her world. Maybe she should embrace the visage of the winter death. Maybe she should just dive into the image of a goddess who wished to drag the living into eternal freeze. 

“I’m still quite proud of my last words to the Queen of Hearts, if you want to know.”

Her smirk is dark and cold, there was not an ounce of regret. 

“I’m truly lucky that you got interested enough to bring me back.”

As if she could say he did it out of the kindness of his heart. As if.

[thatfanfictionchick]

TWST - Collar

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

Leona x Val[OC]

Rating: Suggestive

Warnings: Hands around the neck; Collar wear

Word count: 1534

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

“Val! Grim’s eating my food again!”

Val let her head fall back with an exaggerated groan, ignoring Ace’s angry yells. Grim, Deuce, and Ace had gone through the line ahead of her and were already seated, halfway through their lunches. She looked at Ruggie who was in line next to her loading up his and Leona’s lunches. “I don’t know what they expect me to do about it. You take life and limb in your hands trying to stop that furry black hole.”

“Hey, as long as it’s not my limbs in the fray,” Ruggie said.

“Come again, Grilled Cheeseburglar?” she teased.

“That was a fair trade!” Ruggie insisted.

“Fair how, exactly?” Val pushed.

Just then another Savanaclaw student came by, patting Ruggie on the shoulder. “Hey man, Sam’s looking for you. He says he’s got your stuff.”

“Now?!” Ruggie said. “He said it wouldn’t get here until tonight!”

“His efficacy is problematic?” Val asked.

“No,” Ruggie said. “But it’s…delicate, and I need to get it delivered ASAP.”

Val looked at the tray in his hands. “Do you want me to take Leona his lunch?”

“Would you?” Ruggie’s ears shot up eagerly. She nodded and Ruggie started moving food onto her tray.

“Where’s he at?”

“He should be in the greenhouse.” Ruggie shoved some marks, presumably from Leona, into her hand, shoved some food into his pockets, snagged an extra sandwich, and took off. “Thanks Val, I owe ya!”

As she reached the end of the line another angry shout rang out, and she turned to see Ace and Grim grappling with Deuce caught in the middle. Deciding she wanted nothing to do with all that, Val slipped out the door into the hallway and made her way to the greenhouse. It was delightfully warm, as always, and after a few minutes following the winding path she spotted the fluffy tip of Leona’s tail peeking out of some foliage. “My,” she drawled. “What a lovely tail. Would be a shame if someone were to step on it.”

“Ha ha,” Leona’s humorless laugh made her smile and the tail disappeared. Using one hand to push the broad leaves aside she stepped into the small clearing the beastly housewarden had chosen to nap in. He was lounging on his side, his head propped on his hand, his scarred eye closed. He was, she was loath to admit, disgustingly handsome for someone she wanted to kick in the ass every time she was forced to cross his path. “Ya know, I could still make good to take that tooth I wanted last time.”

“Dear, sweet, Leona,” she said haughtily, a wicked grin twisting her features. “If you want to put something in my mouth so bad there are nicer ways to ask.” That startled a legitimate laugh out of him, and she bent to put the tray on the ground. She lowered herself to the ground intending to sit cross-legged as she usually would. Halfway she was suddenly struck by the idea of doing something so crass, in a skirt, in front of literal royalty and hastily sank down with her legs folded beneath her. “I bring food.”

“What happened to Ruggie?” Leona asked, pushing himself into a sitting position and grabbing the roast beef sandwich that Ruggie had picked for him.

“Black market, probably,” she said with a shrug.

“And you came alone?” Leona teased. She picked up the bowl that held her salad and popped the lid off, ignoring the sound of disgust he made. Her nails were painted with gold glitter that flashed in the light that filtered through the plants as she poured dressing into the bowl, replaced the lid, and shook it vigorously. It was as good an excuse as any for watching her slender hands.

“Grim and Ace were fighting. Believe it or not, this was the better deal.”

“Should put a collar on that weasel.” Leona muttered.

“You could always try, if you’re feeling froggy.” Val said. She took a bite of her salad and Leona grimaced.

“Should collar the both of ya,” he taunted. “Little leaf-eaters ain’t good for much else.”

“Uh, excuse you!” she snapped, stabbing her fork into a piece of tomato. “In case you’ve forgotten, Señor Grumpy Cat, of the two of us sitting here only one of us has actually been collared.” Leona growled and while a smile played at the corner of her lips her eyes stayed firmly rooted to the dirt. She knew she had essentially taken her life in her hands with that jab, although she was mostly sure he wouldn’t actually do anything about it.

Of course, she’d been wrong before.

Quite suddenly Leona’s leather clad hands were wrapped around her neck. She squealed, frozen in place. All jokes aside, she was very aware that he could probably snap her neck with hardly any effort and the expansive greenhouse would afford him any number of places to hide a body. There was also the matter of his gloves being ridiculously soft, warm from the heat of his hands, and that if she weren’t scared for her life it would likely otherwise be an enjoyable experience. But his hands were gone just as suddenly, and she looked at him with wide eyes as he recreated the size of her neck, a sneer on his face.

“Would be such a little thing too.”

“Shut up!” she snapped with a burst of indignation. “You are so mean!” She only succeeded in making him laugh so she stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry, having nothing but childish retorts left. “Like you even actually would!”

She really didn’t like the look on his face when she said that.

°•. ♚ .•°

Two days later, as she was making one last clean sweep of the kitchen before bed, there was a knock at the door. A ghost courier was there, a neat black box in its hands. “Val of Ramshackle?” 

The package signed for, she sat on the sagging couch and untied the silky ribbons that held the box together. Lifting the lid revealed another box, this one with a swirling typeface imprinted on it. The second box felt soft and velvety and entirely too luxurious to be in a place like Ramshackle. She opened it and tilted her head, looking at its contents with confusion. She couldn’t immediately tell what it was, lifting the deceptively hefty leather strap out and turning it in her hands to admire the golden buckle. It was lined with what appeared to be gold velvet and as she rubbed it she realized there was something stitched near the end. Tilting it in the light, her body stiffened when she finally made out the lion's head embroidered in the velvet. She flipped it, her breath coming in angry huffs, and only then saw the small lion’s head embossed on the leather right under the buckle.

It was a collar.

“That son-of-a-bitch!” She sprang to her feet, the box and the collar falling to the floor. She stormed out of the dorm, the door clattering shut behind her. She made it halfway to the main building before the cool night air cleared her head enough to make her stop.

No. She was going about this the wrong way. If she stormed into Savanaclaw to yell at him, he would only think it was funny. And that would just make her angrier. No, she needed to do something better. If he wanted to play, she’d play too.

°•. ♚ .•°

The next day was the start of the weekend, but as usual in Savanaclaw there was no rest for the wicked. It was Spelldrive practice first thing in the morning and as Leona made his way to the field he spotted a lone figure leaning against one of the pillars. She was facing away from him, her hair in loose waves down her back. Unfortunately her facing away from him also gave him the opportunity to notice how very snug her jeans were. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I’m here to watch, obviously.” She didn’t turn to face him, instead continuing to scroll her phone until he reached her. She looked up at him then, a warm smile on her face as she reached up to loop her finger through the D ring on the collar. She’d gotten up early and spent a lot of time getting ready. Her lids were coated in gold shimmer and her eyes carefully lined with kohl. Gold earrings lined both ears, the lowest ones dangling to her collarbones so that no matter what the eye was drawn to her neck. It was absolutely worth it, because the moment Leona saw the collar his ears plastered back against his skull and he bit down on his bottom lip. It only lasted for a moment before he composed himself, but it was enough to supercharge Val right down to her toes. “Well?” she chirped cheerily when he still hadn’t moved several seconds later. “You gonna get out there or what?” He looked like he wanted to say something. At that moment he felt like he wanted to do something. Instead he walked away.

Forget winter, Val thought as she watched him go. War was coming.