#whoop whoop stay alive buddy it will only get worse ��️

[bunnihearted]

🐰🌧️

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 1 - Ribbit

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, THE meetcute of meetcutes. 2.1k

Edit: thank you so much @trevor-wilson-covington for the pretty edit!! I'm in love with it!

Alex drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat in the van. The drive from Los Angeles to Vegas was just short of four hours, but it had been an early morning and it was going to be a long day. He was feeling the carsickness sit just under the threshold of dangerous and rolled down the window.

“Whoo! Twenty miles boys!” Luke called out as they passed a sign on the freeway, clapping Bobby on the shoulder from behind.

“Woohoo!” Bobby responded in excitement.

“Think you’re gonna make it, buddy?” Reggie looked over at Alex. Alex turned only a fraction of the way toward his friend and gave a half-hearted nod.

“Hey man, let us know if we gotta pull over,” Luke said.

He simply nodded. Next time he wasn’t going to sit in the back.

The other three were jamming to whatever Luke was riffing on his guitar. Bobby thankfully drove at a slower pace as they approached the final stretch toward their destination. The ache in his stomach didn’t get better, but it also didn’t get worse so he was banking on it calming down once they stopped.

“Hey, guys, we wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast first?” Bobby called out to the rest of them.

“Oh yeah!” Reggie said. “I think I could go for some pancakes.”

“Oh, pancakes sound real good right now.” Luke echoed.

“Alex?” Bobby peeked into the rearview mirror at him.

Looking up from the view outside, he just shrugged. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t sure he could handle food no matter what it was.

Eventually they pulled off the freeway and kept their eyes peeled for an open restaurant.

“I see pancakes!” Reggie cried, pointing at his target.

“They’ve got an arcade next door, I second that vote!” Bobby said.

As they parked and clambered out of the van, the boys stretched and shook their limbs. They entered the diner and found a booth, practically collapsing together on the table. Alex placed his face in his hands and tried taking in deep breaths to calm his stomach. A sudden voice was heard beside the table.

“Good morning starshines, the earth says hello! How are we doing today?” Sounded like a waiter. Alex felt rude, but didn’t bother to look up. He felt Luke nudge a menu under his elbow.

“Oh, we’re hungry!” Reggie responded.

“Awesome, guys,” the waiter said. “Anything I can get started for you?”

“We’ll go with water,” Luke spoke for everyone at the table. “And, sorry about him, he’s not feeling good.” Alex assumed this was about him and sighed.

“Okay, so water for everybody? Alright, I’ll just grab those for you while you prepare your orders.”

As the waiter left, Luke tapped Alex’s shoulder.

“How you doin’, Alex?”

“Not blowing chunks, I guess,” he groaned.

“Hey, guys,” Bobby started saying. “How about we pick what we wanna eat, and then I want to check out the arcade while we wait for our food.”

“That’s a good idea,” Reggie said, perking up. “I hope they have Galaga.”

“I’m down,” Luke said. “Alex, you wanna wait here for us? You can give the guy our orders and then just chill.”

“Maybe that stomach will settle down,” Reggie added.

Alex lowered his hands and rested them on the table.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I need the space anyway. Thanks.”

“Cool,” Luke hopped up from his seat. “Uh, I’ll just do the buttermilk pancakes.”

“Make that two buttermilk pancakes!” Reggie said, holding up his fingers.

“Eggs and sausage,” Bobby told him. “And buttermilk pancakes.” He patted Alex on the back as the three of them ventured next door.

At least they were easy to remember. Alex looked around the restaurant as he kept breathing in and out slowly. He was the only person there. That was surprising for a diner just outside of Vegas around ten in the morning. He didn’t mind the quiet, though. Having all this space to himself was already helping him feel better.

A guy with long dark hair approached him with a tray carrying glasses of water. Alex gulped as he watched, his breath catching in his throat. He took in the tie-dye shirt, the ripped jeans, and puka shell necklace and guessed he was probably from California as well.

“Whoa, where’d they all go?” the waiter asked, smiling a little in confusion.

Alex blinked.

“They, uh, they went to the arcade,” he managed to get out. He couldn’t help it, this guy had a nice smile.

“Ah,” the guy raised his eyebrows and began placing the water on the table. “And they left you behind? That sucks.”

“I’m okay,” Alex said. “We’ve just been on the road for a bit and I got kinda carsick, so I needed some space anyway.”

“I’m sorry, man,” the waiter said. “Did they decide what to eat before they bailed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alex shifted to face him better. “They all want buttermilk pancakes and then one guy also wants eggs and sausage.”

“Three buttermilks…” the guy muttered as he wrote them down. “Eggs and sausage. And do you know what you want?”

He looked directly into Alex’s eyes as he rested the tray under his arm and it took everything Alex had not to melt right there. Don’t look at his lips, he thought. He was pretty sure his eyes had betrayed him but he forced his gaze downward as a cover.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered. “I actually forgot to look at the menu.”

“Right, ‘cuz you were carsick, sorry” the waiter chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Alex bit his tongue.

“I should probably get some food still,” he managed to say. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Right on. I could recommend some toast - that’s always easy on the stomach. That comes with eggs, and I could add in some banana for you.”

“That actually sounds great,” Alex told him. “I’ll just do that, then.”

The waiter smiled and bit his lip.

“‘Kay!” He lifted the tray from under his arm and headed back toward the kitchen, doing a little skip before disappearing inside.

Alex felt his hands shaking and he sat on them for a minute. Looking around the empty diner, a thought occurred that somehow with just him and the waiter it had seemed full. The strange feeling crept all over him, like a new exhilarating energy, and he moved his hands back up. The waiter popped back out of the kitchen and came back toward Alex in a cavalier fashion.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. “I don’t exactly have other people to help and I feel bad leaving you all by yourself in here.”

“Make yourself at home,” Alex said, gesturing to the seat across from him. Make yourself at home? What is that? he berated himself.

The guy extended a hand for him to shake. “I’m Willie, by the way.”

“Alex.” As he took it, Alex returned the firm grip he received and they both chuckled a bit at noticing each other’s strength. Willie sat down and immediately grabbed a napkin from the dispenser.

“So you said you and your friends have a long day ahead of you?” he asked.

“Oh right,” Alex couldn’t believe he had forgotten about the guys for a minute. “We’re a band, so we’ve got a gig opening for Julie Molina tonight.”

“Wicked,” Willie smiled and nodded, folding the napkin into something Alex wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be. “Who’s Julie Molina?”

“Oh, she’s just a good solo artist - does a little bit of everything. My buddy Luke is really into her.”

Willie nodded some more, continuing to fold the napkin.

“And who are you guys?”

“We’re Sunset Curve,” Alex said. “I’m the drummer.”

“Right on! You guys just becoming a thing?” Willie raised his eyebrows.

“I mean, I guess so,” Alex hadn’t exactly thought about it. “Opening for Julie is a big step for us.”

He watched Willie’s hands work until he finished. It turned out to be an origami frog.

“Ribbit,” Willie said, pressing on the top to make it look like it was moving. The napkin material didn’t exactly lend to bouncing up and down, which made them both giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be distracting.”

“I don’t mind,” Alex said. “It’s entertaining.”

He realized how widely he was smiling and laughed to himself.

“What about you?” he asked.

Willie straightened his posture and ran a hand through his hair again. He flailed his arms and blew out his cheeks before holding one arm with the other and leaning on the table.

“Making it on my own for now. I just do whatever feels good, you know? Make a few bucks, get out and enjoy what I find. Don’t need a whole lot to be happy.”

Wow, Alex wanted that kind of chill. He picked up the origami frog.

“What do you do when you’re not here? Besides these, of course.”

Willie shrugged.

“Skate. Be free.” He smiled, but sighed heavily. Alex saw a distant look in his eyes, but knew now wasn’t a time to address it. “I see Vegas in all its glory. You should see the lights at night.”

“Won’t I see them tonight?”

Willie shook his head.

“Not the right way,” he told him. “Not at the right angle. I would show you, but you’ve got your gig and everything.”

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but a head stuck out of the kitchen door. A man with dark hair and chiseled features looked at Willie and all he did was glare authoritatively.

“I’m - coming,” Willie stammered, rising from his seat.

Alex realized his mouth was still open and he shut it, unhappily swallowing what he’d wanted to say.

“That was my boss,” Willie said, already in a hurry. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back when your food’s ready.” He rushed off and the diner felt empty and cold again.

As if on cue, Luke, Bobby and Reggie burst back through the door. Luke and Reggie were celebrating while Bobby seemed a little less enthusiastic.

“Dun-geon slay-er!” Reggie proclaimed in a mock deep voice. “Too bad we can’t stay longer and go for that tournament today; I would have whooped everyone.”

They all sat and immediately gulped down their waters. Bobby remained quiet.

“How was the arcade?” Alex asked.

“It was sweet,” Luke reported. “Bobby’s mad because Reggie mopped the floor with him.”

“The joystick wasn’t working right, it wasn’t a fair outcome,” Bobby defended.

“Oooohhh,” Reggie made a silly face and wiggled his fingers. “Bobby only loses when the game doesn’t work, ooohhh!”

Alex shook his head and laughed mildly. He only noticed then that his stomach had stopped bothering him completely. He hadn’t even felt it when he’d been talking with Willie. He finished his own water, and was happy not to feel anything as it went down. The origami frog was still on the table.

“Hey, Alex,” Reggie said, picking it up. “Did you make this?”

“Oh, no, Willie did,” he told him.

“Who’s Willie?” Luke asked.

Speak of the devil - the kitchen door opened and Willie came out carrying their plates.

“Alright, we got pancakes, pancakes, more pancakes,” he said, placing them where they belonged. He glanced at Alex quickly, but it was too quick to read. “Who had the eggs and sausage?”

“That was me,” Bobby said, raising his hand.

“Okay,” Willie passed it over to him. “And toast and eggs with a banana.” He smiled as he set it down before Alex. “And it looks like you all need more water, I’ll be right back!” He was gone too quickly again.

The change in his mood unsettled Alex, but maybe it was because Willie was working. As he saw Willie returning with the water pitcher he had an idea.

“Hey Luke,” he said. Luke turned to him expectantly as Willie silently poured water in their glasses.

“Where are we playing again?”

Luke looked confused. Willie was listening intently.

“The Pearl, why? How could you forget?”

“And what time do we play?”

“Eight o’ clock. You sure you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. I was… I was just testing you, cuz sometimes you don’t remember.”

Luke looked around the table defensively.

Reggie shrugged. “He’s right. But you remembered this time!”

Alex felt bad about starting Luke in an argument as he listened to them continue, but he knew it would blow over quickly. He caught Willie looking back at him and nodding as he walked away. As he returned to his food, Bobby smirked at him and shook his head. Heat rose in his cheeks and he focused on his toast.

[beskarberry]

Devil’s Advocate

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 5

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 11.2k whoops

Content warnings: VICES: gambling/smoking/drinking (reader drinks) Introduction of chapter-specific OC characters. Lots of angst to fluff, sexy times of course.

A/N: This might be more self indulgent than the first chapters but not because of the smut. I kinda go off about fancy clothes so long descriptions of costumes are a big chunk of this chapter.

<-Previous Next->

You hated everything about Canto Bight.

Everything about the city was so... artificial. The stadium flood lights, the glowing neon signs, even the ocean herself had been excavated from the planet’s stubborn sandstone surface instead of eroded naturally by the march of time. To you it was like looking at Corellia’s gold painted twin, a monument to the hubris of all sentient life.

 Even the patrons of the gilded city were fake; their clothes, their makeup, their personalities. Every aspect of them was perfectly curated to deceive and lie, whatever fanciful display would work best to cheat their way to the jackpot. You almost wished you could look past the falseness of it, experience the visual fanfare of light and color that reflected on every surface. You wanted the music and the art and the decor that had been so carefully picked and placed to mean something to you, to sparkle in your heart just as it sparkled in the eyes of the teeming masses. But, all for naught, the gleaming metropolis stung your eyes; and you turned away from it to admire the quaint little space that actually mattered to you.

 You shared the tight quarters of the cockpit with the two strange boys that had recently whisked you away to the stars. Mando was seated in the pilot's chair with his tiny green son perched in his lap, trying to get him to eat his dinner without making so much of a mess. You had already eaten, and you were turning the last hunter’s puck over in your hand, reluctant to get this chase started and take away from the familial scene beside you. It would have to happen sooner or later, and you gave the puck a squeeze to fire up the projector. A ghostly blue fog glowed up into the space above your palm, and the face that looked back at you was surprisingly fair; if not for his crimson skin and long black horns you wouldn’t have known he was Devaronian by his elegant features alone.

 Elios Blackwater was a dapper debonair, his high cheekbones angled sharply under devious eyes towards a sly, sharp toothed grin. The puck notes didn’t specify what he was wanted for, though from the looks of his charming smile and shifting eyes it could easily be anything from a gamblers quarrel to breaking hearts, with a higher reward for being returned alive rather than dead. He would most likely be in a heavily inhabited area, probably as close to Canto Bight’s aurelian heart as possible. You didn’t know why Mando had taken a bounty puck for such a densely populated world, and you would have loved to know what his plan was to get to the city’s casino center before you had arrived in his life. A pair of ragamuffin bounty hunters and their floating baby bucket would stick out like sore thumbs in this gilded mecca of gamblers. If you were going to get to your quarry without being arrested, you were going to have to blend in.

 “We’re going to have to do something about...this.” You said, waving your hand in front of your partner’s ferocious attire, though truthfully you weren’t dressed any more appropriately for the mission at hand. “They’ll see us coming a mile away.”

 He glanced down at himself with a tilt of his helmet, ignoring the mess his son was making of his meal. “What do you have in mind?”

 You weren’t entirely sure yet. From where the Crest was parked you could see the glittering city’s reflection sparkling on the water far ahead of you down the beach, a sight most would find alluring, but to you it was just harsh glare. Nearby where you had landed were other space craft parked up and down the gravelly, machine-carved beach; the pleasure cruisers of wealthy betters made your little scrapheap look even worse than it already did. You watched out the cockpit’s transperisteel window, noting the movement of patrons and their attending droids loading skiffs with piles of luggage, and got yourself a mighty fine idea.

"I think so, but you're probably not going to like it. Stay here." You rose from your seat and kissed the baby on the head, earning yourself a soft, mush-mouthed chirp before you slid down the ladder and let yourself out of the old rust bucket and into the salty sea air of the Cantonican night. Gravel crunched under your boots, and you took a moment to turn and glance back at the Crest, catching the faintest flicker of scope glare where Mando was nervously watching you from the flight deck. Ahead of you a large cruiser was being unloaded by droids, the owners having long since made their way to the casinos, and you made yourself known to the robotic servants with your most charming damsel-in-distress voice.

"Hello! Excuse me! My luggage is too heavy to carry, can you help me? It's just over here on my ship..." The droid nearest you made a stiff bowing motion and tottered after you with the loaded hoverskiff floating along behind. You guided the droid up the open ramp and into the bowels of the ship to where your difficult luggage lay. It never stood a chance, bits of wire and duraplast flew across the cabin like confetti from the blaster shot to its head. Mando lowered his gun back to his holster, freeing his hands to help you haul the skiff into the narrow cabin space, then quickly close the ramp behind you.

The sled took up most of the walking space in the ship, so you got up on top of it and began looting through the stolen designer bags, pulling resplendent finery out into the hazy light. The first tote was full of piles of silk sewn for something with more arms than the two of you put together, so most of those items were tossed to the floor. The second bag was just capes, each a unique and lovely pattern, but nothing more. You demolished the remaining bags, making piles on the floor for ‘maybes’ and ‘definitely-nots’ until you found what you were looking for: a humanoid woman’s clothes.

Most of the unknown lady’s elegant garments would be just slightly too big on you, but you were able to settle on a soft, garnet colored evening gown that would go just above your knees, with extra length in the back. It had a sloping neckline that plunged at your cleavage, and around the bell of the skirt were silver rhinestones that caught the light of the cabin like dewdrops, the weight of them giving the dress a wistful sway. You wouldn't be able to carry much in such a revealing article, but a blaster and a knife alone had gotten you out of more trouble than you would care to admit.

You were fishing through the feminine things for something to do about your hair when you caught Mando in the corner of your eye. He was leaning against the hull wall, just watching you as you made a fat mess of the Razor's interior. You smiled down at him from your floating perch and held up the fanciful garment that you had picked out for him to see. "You like it?"

"It doesn't suit you, mesh’la." He said with a lazy tilt of his helmet. You had begun to mentally keep track of all the Mando’a he used around you, and you were starting to notice his frequent use of affectionates. You spun slightly so he could get a good look at how the fabric moved in the light, but the hunter gear you currently had on took away from the loveliness of the expensive clothes. You guessed he preferred your killer garb anyway over the flimsy, delicate fabric. Or nothing at all.

"Well, it’ll have to do, and if you don't start picking something out for yourself I’m going to dress you up like a dandy.”

He sighed, long and tired before turning his attention to the silken pile on the floor. You went back to the luggage, finding some knee high boots that were close enough to your size, but had a heel height that was going to make your ankles cry. You picked out some tasteless accessories: some bracelets, and big, jewel-encrusted hair pins to wear as well. The glitzier that you were, the less you would be noticed in this bass-ackward town. When you had made your frivolous selections you hopped off the skiff to help Mando with his costume. He was worse at finding something to wear than you were, having only picked out some of his own black leather gloves and two pairs of pants that were not made for human legs. Mandalorian armor did not come off as far as your metal man was concerned, and you were going to have to find a way to hide his bulk. You convinced him to lose his cloak, chest belts, and the bandoliers on his hips and boots, anything to lighten the load. Loose silks and stiff fiber combos would be your best friend, and you cobbled together what you could for your beskar-burdened buddy.

After what seemed like an eternity you had him dressed to the nines, or at least the eights. You had covered his chest plate in a black silk shirt and stiff black vest. The shirt had wide bottomed sleeves and neat, tight cuffs that hid his vambraces well, but you still made him wear a cinched-waist blazer plus a long, black and silver cape that almost reached the floor. You found a dark red pocket square that matched your dress and tucked it into the pocket of his vest, a subtle, but unmistakable announcement to the world that he was there with you. It was a ridiculous amount of fabric on top of an already massive mountain of metal, but the look was very in-style for Canto Bight. All together he actually passed for something besides a murder machine, and you gave yourself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Mando held still for you while you fussed with his outfit with only the occasional huff. As much as he didn't like the idea of walking so boldly through the gilded city, he did enjoy your brazen touch each time you added another article of clothing.

“And now for the finishing touch.” There was nothing you could do about his helmet, so you were just going to have to make it look as nice as you could. You hadn’t changed into your chosen disguise yet, so you strode through the messy cabin with ease until you reached the lock box next to the cot. Inside you found the krayt’s teeth that you had gifted him and pulled them out into the light, waving them at him as you stretched over the heaps of fabric on the ground. He raised his hands in protest.

“What if I lose them?”

“You can wear these or you can wear whatever the hell this is.” You held up an enormous chain of jewels that looked like it belonged in the treasure case at an arcade instead of around somebody's neck. “Besides, I know you won't lose them, you like them too much.” He tilted his helmet at you with disdain, and you realized that was precisely the reason he didn’t want to wear them, such lovely gifts should be kept safe and secure. But he let you press the precious trinkets into the recess of his helmet where his human cheeks would be anyway. The frozen pools of moonlight tied everything about his sin-city look into a perfect, glittery bow. You had grown to admire the look of him in his cultural armor, the ferocity of it, the utility and strength of the beskar that shined no matter how much damage it took; and you were a bit sad to see it hidden. The look of the man standing before you had a wildly different feel, though it was not one you were opposed to.

“You look nice, Din.” The sound of his own name coming from your lips made his heart swell, and he reached out for your hand on instinct to pull your knuckles to his brow in the sweet gesture of his people that you both now used. His movements caused the finery he was masquerading in to catch the cabin’s hazy light, and you got excited to put on your own costume and join him in looking like a fool. When he let your hand fall, you bounded over to your pile, throwing the hunting clothes off of yourself as you went. When you were standing there in nothing but your Tattooinian muck boots you cast a sly glance over your shoulder. As expected, the single black eye of your Mandalorian was locked on your almost-naked form, and you realized that in the time you had been together he had never seen you fully naked; just the parts of you he needed to get to in the moment. “How’s this? You like this better?”

When he didn’t answer right away you looked down at yourself and saw what he was staring at. You had forgotten about the marks of conquest he had put there when he had been driven to a sexual frenzy by the last quarry’s poison, still dotting your thighs with dark purple splotches. Not once had you been upset with him for his actions, you were just thankful you both made it through the ordeal alive, but he still looked at the damning marks with shame. He had been forced to break his protector’s oath against his will, inflicting injury to your precious body with his own two hands. You waited until his visor made its way back up to meet your eyes, and you reached out for him to give you his hand. He sheepishly obeyed, and you brought his hand to your lips, kissing at the all-black leather slowly until you heard him sigh through his modulator. You would forgive him a hundred times if you had to, and then a hundred more if it meant he could forgive himself. You pulled his hands to your waist and leaned up against him, enjoying the feel of new clothes on your skin and letting your hands run up his silken arms. “Well you can have this,” You nodded down at your bare everything with a mischievous grin, “As soon as we catch this fucko.” 

This was the last bounty you would need before you made the trip back to Nevarro, but you were still on the fence about how completing your mission made you feel. On one hand you would be free of the Guild’s relentless hunters, but on the other your partnership with the strange metal man and his adorable beanbag of a son would come to a close. You turned back to your outfit and began cinching a pair of thigh holsters to your legs, hiding your wincing face as the leather closed around your bruises; a blaster on one leg and a knife on the other. You pulled on the dress and fixed up your hair as best you could, then stepped out of your good boots and into the slutty knee-highs. There was only one loose end to take care of.

 “Where’s baby?” You glanced around the messy cabin, looking for your foundling. In the corner under a pile of capes there was movement, and you cleared the flashy finery away to reveal your bestest little friend. Big, glittering orbs looked up at you from the pile of fabric, and a tiny toothy grin shined from his cute baby face. “Heya booger, you ready to go?” You scooped him up in your arms for a hug before picking a big shiny scarf up to wrap him up with, then placed him carefully down in one of the gaudy designer bags. “If anyone asks, he is a pet.” The child didn’t seem to care, he was just happy to be included, waving his little pudgy baby hands up at you to hold. You squeezed his tiny paw, then turned to Mando, “You ready to go, Lord Beskar?”

He glanced down at himself, tilting his palms up and shrugging. “I guess so, I feel ridiculous.”

“Good enough!” You made for the exit ramp with a big stride, and almost broke your damn ankle on the first step, falling gracelessly into the arms of your partner. He caught you with ease, and your cheeks went red with his strong, gentle hands on you again for the hundredth time. You got to your feet, but you would be leaning heavily on him for most of the night until the boots were broken in. With you hanging off of his arm the two of you looked like a proper couple, just heading out for a night on the town instead of two bloodthirsty bounty hunters on the prowl. You might let yourself pretend though, just for the night.

You took a transport speeder from the beach to the city’s entrance, then made your way through the gilded streets, following the red blink of the bounty fob towards your quarry. You had to stop multiple times, the fucking boots making your feet hurt like you knew they would. Mando stood patiently with you each time, and more than once offered to just carry you. His visor would glide from side to side, always on the alert for anyone that might be following you, or worse, hunting you down. The tracking fob led you to the most obvious choice of casino: the tallest, brightest, shiniest temple of vice smack dab in the city’s center. 

The front entryway was dominated by a roaring, gushing fountain, shooting geysers in a perfectly timed pattern high into the Cantonican night sky. The fountain was lit up with bright, multicolored spotlights so that every stream of water and drop of spray glittered back in defiance of the stars that had inspired them. Inside, the casino floor was packed with patrons, ranging in size and species in an infinite array of wealth and power. Chandeliers hung high above you from the soaring cathedral ceilings, sending sparkling lights racing around the endless room like shooting stars. Every surface was bright and gleaming, dozens of pillars and statues illuminated by blinding limelight. Even the floor was magnificent, black and white marble with huge inlaid stars, guiding gamblers through the limitless space towards their wildest desires. Again you wished you could appreciate the extravagance of it all, though the way the lights streamed like mercury over the beskar of your pretend date made something else sparkle behind your eyes. 

 The smell of inhalants and alcohol burned in your nose, and you took a moment to make sure your purse puppy’s face was covered with something so he wouldn’t have to endure it as much as you were. The sound of gamblers and music and roaring competition was louder than the screams of the hyperspace engine aboard the Crest, the cacophony of it all making you anxious. You were thankful that you weren’t hunting this bounty alone, and you still held on to Mando tightly, letting him lead you over the cosmic marble floor through the streaming masses. The people paid you no mind, moving out of the way without casting a second glance. Your costumes were working exactly as you had intended, and you applauded yourself for how well you had deceived the City of Lies.

You had guessed that if your bounty would be anywhere, it would be at the center of attention, and you were right. Elios Blackwater sat at the atrium bar, surrounded by beautiful and interesting people. The glint of gold jewelry caught the radiant casino lights every time he moved, drawing the eyes of all those around him. He was telling some kind of wild story that had his little crowd hooked on every word, though you could tell from a distance he was all bullshit. Immediately you knew this was a man that was used to having everything he desired, never being denied a single whim in all his days. A plan began to simmer in your skull, and you knew right away your partner was not going to like it. If you were going to get the quarry alone, you were going to have to persuade him to leave the company of his fans, and you only knew one sure-fire method for a man of Blackwater’s tastes. You let yourself off of your escorts’ arm to turn and face him, pulling his hands to your hips and letting your own rest on his shoulders so that to any outsiders you two would be just another pair of passionate dancers making their way through the counterfeit cosmos. 

“Mando, do you trust me?” His hidden eyes were still glancing around the room, scanning for any lurking threats.

“Of course.” His words went right over your head, his ears too full of the sounds of potential danger to really hear you. You huffed and ran your hands to his bedazzled helmet, pulling it down to meet your eyes. 

“Pay attention, bucket boy. I need to hear you say it and know that you mean it. Do you trust me?”  He cocked his head, confused that you would have to ask twice. 

“Yes, ner cyar’ika, I trust you.”

“Good.” You let your hands fall back to his armored shoulders, pressing yourself up against him tighter. Your fingers fidgeted in the heavy material of his cloak, he was going to hate this. “Because I need to do something. Alone.” 

That got his attention fast. 

“No, it’s too dangerous here. I want you where I can protect you. What if there’s hunters?”

“I know, I need you to cover me, but from a distance. I think I can convince Elios to walk right into the carbonite freezer, but I can’t do it with you looming over me.” You wrapped your hands around the back of his helmet, pulling him down so that his forehead met with yours. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would work.” He sighed between your hands, the steam of his breath slipping out from under the helmet’s edge. There was nothing he would rather not do than be away from you, but he did trust you, and he nodded against your embrace.

“I’ll call for you as soon as I’m ready, ok? Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t cause a scene. No matter what.” You couldn’t kiss him like you wanted to, but you still pressed your lips to the side of his beskar before letting go, pulling yourself away from his tender grasp. His hands still floated in the space where you had been as you turned away from him and made your way to the bar, the heavy purse bumping against your weaponized thighs with every flint and tinder step of your sky high heels. As you got closer to the bounty you could hear the shreds of his conversation starting to make their way over the noise of the casino.

“...And I said ‘Darlin’ if you didn’t want to take it home with you, ya shouldn’t have put it in your mouth!” The way he was telling his story gave you the impression that it wasn’t one you wanted to hear, and you started to regret your foolhardy plan. Gold rings and precious jewels sparkled all the way from his fingers to the caps on his horns, making it impossible for most to look away, a fact made apparent by his captivated audience. The beautiful boozers laughed and cheered at his every word, though from his stupidass sounding story you wondered how much of the affection was alcohol induced. You pulled a seat up at the bar a few stools away from the crowd and ordered yourself a shot of spotchka and a couple packs of cookies. You slipped the snacks into your bag for Din’s foundling, you would be needing him for your plan to work as well; and the promise of treats would keep his bright-eyed attention on you. 

The taste of spotchka was vile, but you had started your journey though the galaxy on the gigantic starcruisers that were built on your homeworld of Corellia, and you had gotten to know the taste of the sailor-favorite drink at a tender age. You sipped at your brew, listening casually to the Devaronian’s conversation, but never turned your eyes to him. Every once in a while another bar patron would swagger up beside you to offer you another shot. You turned down anything you didn’t order yourself, but you started telling them fabricated stories about your life among the stars, most of which were wild tales of fancy from old holovids you had seen. You wished you could turn around and find your favorite rust bucket, wherever he may be hiding among the festivities, and give him something to reassure him. A nod or a wave, anything to let him know you weren’t just making him jealous on purpose. 

Soon you were throwing back brightly glowing shots of brew, and a handful of interested patrons had gathered around you to hear about how you had jerry-rigged a star cruiser to run on spotchka when you were a space pirate smuggling kyber crystals for the resistance, among other things. When you had your head tilted back you cast a glance towards the bounty, and saw what you had been waiting for. His hooded eyes were watching you intently, he didn’t like that someone was getting any of the attention pie that he believed was his alone, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to do something about it. Soon enough the dapper devil rose from his entourage, running a painted claw through his long dark hair before making his way to you, sauntering with every step.

Hook.

“Well hello there, darlin’, name’s Elios. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing chugging spotchka when you could be drinkin’ something as fine as you are?” The debonair’s words were long and slow, making sure that every drawn syllable would be heard. “Bartender! Get this lovely lady a real drink, if ya please.” You weren’t sure what counted as a ‘real drink’, but the dark liquid that was slid over to you stank even worse than spotchka with the strength of its proof. Elios couldn’t stand that someone else might be having more fun than he was, and he was determined to put you out of commission. He wanted to do it in such a way that you would be thanking him for it, preferably while on your knees. “What’s yer name, baby cakes?”

From the other side of the busy casino you could feel the void of a visor making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Mando was standing on the far side of the slot machines where the light was just a little less glaring, so motionless he might have been part of the decorations. He wasn’t sure what your plan was, or how you would talk the quarry into being captured without gaining the suspicion of the wandering security enforcers. He bristled whenever a bar patron started trying to make nice with you, and only got progressively more frustrated when more and more started hanging around you. When he saw the bounty slink his way over to you he wanted to dash across the marble floor and break his fucking neck just for being in your airspace. ‘Don’t make a scene, no matter what’ is what you had told him, and you had asked him to trust you. So he did as he was asked. Watching, waiting.

“Hmm, I don’t think you could handle it.” Oh, Elios didn’t like that one bit, nobody told Mr. Blackwater ‘no’ without consequences. He swirled a glass of the same dark liquid around in one perfectly manicured hand, his polished claws clicking on the side of the glass. You continued to ignore him, but you started on the new drink in front of you. Yucky, at least spotchka was familiar. He took your acceptance of the drink as an invitation to join you at the bar. 

“You’re awful sly, baby cakes, tell me yer name so I can make you forget it later.” His pointed teeth flashed out from his crooked smile, and you could smell the stench of expensive cologne and aftershave. You rolled your eyes big and wide so he could see just how unimpressed you were, but your nose was burning from how bad he smelled. This was a bad idea, but only because of how well it was going to work. Fresher soap, where are you?

“I’ll tell you what, if you can out-drink me, I’ll tell you my name.” His wicked smile split his face, showing off rows of brilliant white fangs. Party-boy could probably hold a few good shots, but you were raised by sailors, and you were gonna drink his ass under the table. 

“You’re on, sweet cheeks. Bartender! Another round!” Another set of shot glasses plinked to the counter, and vanished just as fast. Elios was eyeing you up and down, seeing if you were all bark and no bite. If he could just get you drunk enough…

Far from where you were drinking the Mandalorian you had asked to trust in you was furious, trying not to thumb the handle of his blaster that poked out from the side of his hip under his cloak. It would be so easy, he could hit the target from here and it would be over, you would be back by his side and not being drooled over by that fucking pathetic excuse for a man. 

“He has that effect on people.”

Mando’s helmet snapped on the sounds’ source, so lost in vicious thoughts that he didn’t hear the stranger come to lean against the wall by him. They were tall and thin, translucent green skin and a mop of hair-like cilia growing from their head to their flowy chiffon clothes. They looked exhausted. “That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself. 

“Another!” You hollered, but the glasses were already in front of you, then gone again. The Devaronian hissed back the sting of the high-dollar liquor, shaking his long mane that had started to come undone. You pretended to reel from the liquor's effects, leaning back just a tad too far on your seat. “Again!” The third round of shots came and went, and Elios nearly fell off his stool. Right where I want you. You waved at the bartender for the fourth and final shot that would probably put the devil right on his ass, but that’s not where you were headed with this show of tenacity. You had to get him alone before you made your capture, or the security enforcers that littered the casino floor would descend on you like vultures. 

You waited til he had thrown his drink back before you tilted yours, purposely spilling a few drops down your front so the booze would trickle down between your breasts. Elios nearly choked, and you knew you had his full, undivided attention. Din, I’m so sorry.

“Woo! I don’t think I can do any more, Mister Blackwater, you win.” you feigned, holding the back of your hand up to your forehead, trying to convince him that the room was spinning for both of you and not just him. His sultry laugh made your skin crawl.

“Please, call me Elios.”

Line.

“Well, Elios, you still wanna know my name? You’re gonna have to work for it.” You placed a hand on his leg, running your fingers up his thigh and around the edge of his waist, pulling at his pockets seductively to drive the point home. Does he have SCALES? What the fuck ew ew ew. He took the hint like a drunk takes to spotchka, flashing you a slurred smile. 

“Well… sugar lips, we can take this... elsewhere.” 

“Sure thing, Elios, lemme just have my attendant take my Poochie up to my room.” You held the heavy purse up so he could see the big black eyes hiding in its depths. 

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“He’s a pet, obviously.”

“What kind’a fuckin’ pet?”

“Purebred.” Your quick answer seemed good enough for Mr. Drinky, and he nodded like that made perfect sense. You raised your fist to the air and snapped your fingers.

The human fortress was at your side in a heartbeat, towering above the two of you. You stuffed the purse in his hands before he could ask where to point his gun. “Here, take Poochums up to my room, mama’s not coming home tonight, if y’know what I mean. Get him washed and fed, and don’t forget to scrub his feet!” 

“Yes Ma’am.” The bag was lifted carefully from your fake-drunk hands, and you tried to flash him your best ‘Please-don’t-be-mad-at-me-I-hate-this-too’ face at your partner, but you guessed the look was lost on his visor. The scene did not escape Elios’s eyes like you had hoped it would. 

“Now what in the Mmmmaker’s Mammaries is that big ass fuckin’ thing? That some kinda droid? It’s damn fancy.” Shit balls of hell.

“Uh.. Yes! This is the finest in personal assistant droid technology! See, look.” You grabbed Mando’s empty arm and pulled back sharply on the fabric, revealing the delicate button panel of his vambrace. “Only the best money could buy...” 

“I gotta get me one of those...” Elios stared bewildered as your personal petsitting droid turned and left. “Well, honey tits, you wanna take this upstairs?” Ugh.

“Oh suurrre… Oh Mr. Blackwater I’m ~soooo~ drunk ahaha…” You were barely buzzed, and you worried that your life among the stars had given your liver bigger balls than a bounty hunter. You wobbled on your stool, for phase two of your plan to work you would have to delay Elios as long as possible. You watched as the man whose heart you had stolen faded away from you, the fancy purse hooped over his shoulder and knocking up against his leg, cape billowing behind him as he went. Alright, Baby Beans, it’s up to you now!

Din was seething under his helmet, pissed as shit that this was what your elaborate ‘plan’ entailed. He was trying not to storm through the casino as he left to take your ‘Poochums’ up to your room, whatever the hell that fucking meant. How could he be so fucking stupid? This was exactly the same ruse you had tried to pull on him from day one. Seduction was your real talent, luring your lovers to their untimely demise. How many times had you pulled this stunt? Was this your master plan all along? Ouch. Play with his heart until you were free of your Guild warrant? Ow. You were just using him to get to Nevarro, then you would fuck off to the stars and leave him behind. After everything you had been through, he was just another notch on your bedp- 

“OUCH!” 

Din looked down to his side where the pain he was trying to ignore was coming from, and saw a fat green paw sticking out of the ugly expensive purse, digging vicious talons into the side of his leg. His foundling was trying to burrow through his thigh, and his claws might actually have drawn blood. “What, womp rat? What do you want?” There was something in the baby’s other hand, something golden and flashy. Din reached into the bag and pulled the embossed card from his son’s grasp. What’s this? There was a set of numbers etched in gold filigree in the top of the card, their shimmer blasting away the destructive void he had been spiraling into.

Key card! PENTHOUSE key card! You had tricked the bounty into getting close enough to you that you could pick his pocket without him noticing. You were luring Elios right into a trap, and your Mandalorian was the snare. Din felt a mix of emotion ranging from relief to shame, how could he even think for one second that you might be deceiving him? You had asked him to trust you, and he couldn’t even contain his jealousy long enough to make it through one hunt. He felt like such an ass, you were putting your skills to good use, at great risk to your own safety, just like he had asked you to from the beginning. This wasn’t just his hunt anymore, it was a joint effort between the two of you, and it was his turn to run the next leg of the relay. The heavy, silver-laced cloak was tossed to the side as he raced to the elevator, fluttering away behind him as he flew to beat you there.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep the bounty from falling flat on his face, and the only way to do that was to hold him up yourself. His hands were all over you, the nick of sharp, neat claws catching on the fabric of your evening dress and scratching along your skin. I’m gonna break those fingers, motherfucker. He was slurring his words, making disgusting promises of what he was gonna do to you when you reached his private penthouse. You were just out of range of his boozehole, the lippy thing trying to steal a taste of you. Wobbly steps slowed you both down to almost a crawl, which was exactly what you were trying to do, anything to give Mando time to find the hotel room first. You passed a discarded cloak on the floor, the familiar silver inlay catching the light, and you worried that you might have pushed your partner too far. What if he left? What if he didn’t see the keycard and I’m heading up alone? Please be there, Din. Please don’t leave me with this fucking creep. You both reached the elevator, and Elios fumbled to find his wallet, thankfully having a spare key that he didn’t know he needed. The doors opened, and you realized you would be stuck in your own personal hell for the entire trip up to the top floor suite. Fucking super. 

Elios was getting impatient during the ride up, and it took every fiber of your being to keep from retching as his well-moisturized hands ran up and down your spine. The elevator door opened directly into the penthouse, and his perfectly manicured claws dug into your ass to usher you into the room. The top floor suite was dark, save for the lights of Canto Bight shining in through the cathedral windows. You took a mental note of the speeder parked out on the balcony, you would be needing it later. The Devaronian was at your ear, breathing hot, boozy steam around your neck until he was facing you. He went to bite at your mouth, but you stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." You whispered in your most convincing lust-laden voice. The devil chuckled and ran his slimy, forked tongue around the halting digit. Barf.

"Oh yeah, baby cakes? Why’s that?"

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip into a wry smile before meeting his half-lidded eyes. "Because... you're going to make Daddy very angry."

His lips turned upwards in an aroused sneer, flashing his dazzling, daggerlike teeth, "How could getting a taste of that fiery little mouth’a yours make me angry, darlin’?"

Sinker.

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about him."

Elios didn't even have a chance to turn around to see where your eyes were looking before a black and silver fist broke his nose and sent his perfect teeth soaring across the room, throwing him down to the marble floor. Seeing his busted prettyboy face bleeding at your feet made you feel so relieved that a vicious shiver made its way from your head to your toes, and you let your body shake the devil’s touch off of you like a big wet bantha.

"Fuck! Oh fucking hell, Mando, you have -no idea- how hard it was to keep that up, he’s so gross! I’m gonna chuck his ass in carbonite so fucking hard his horns’ll break off!" Your partner was still squared up, just waiting for the interloper to try and get up and fight. He wanted the bounty to get up, flail, scream, any excuse to hit him again. But Blackwater was out cold, staining the white marble floor with his blood.

"You looked like you were handling it."

The deadpan tone of his voice told you that wasn't exactly a compliment, remembering the jealousy that had seethed out of him on Tatooine after that Trandoshan had tried to capture you. You had two choices: you could either try to defend yourself and your unconventional bounty catching method, or you could turn that jealousy in your favor. He didn’t remember much from his toxic encounter with the Ardennian, but you knew that every filthy, possessive thing he had said to you that night was still somewhere in that chrome dome of his; and you became determined to bring them to the light. You crossed one arm over your chest, raising the other to tap a finger against the corner of your lips.

"Oh? You didn't like that, did you? Didn't like that he had his hands on me? Touching things that don’t belong to him?" He didn't answer, but the creaking of leather from his fists tightening told you what you already knew. "Tell me, Mando."

"N-no." His visor remained fixed on the unconscious body still bleeding on the floor. Not good enough.

"No what?"

"No. I didn't like that." His voice was low and raspy, but only because he was trying to keep the boiling rage in his chest from blowing his fucking helmet off.

"Tell me what you didn't like." You stepped over the quarry to your man, running your fingers from his balled fists over his silk and steel arms until you were at his shoulders. You could feel the slightest shudder under all his layers at your touch.

"I didn't like him touching you. Nobody should put their hands on you, cyar'ika" His fists lowered to his sides but his visor was still on the floor. You let your hands wander up his neck to the bejeweled recesses of his helmet and turned him to meet your eyes.

"Why not?"

"B-because..."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Because you are mine." He growled through his helmet so hard that you swore you saw it vibrate, sending a delicious tingle though your spine. Atta boy.

“Again.”

“You are mine!” Even behind the beskar you could hear the clench of his teeth biting back deeper desires. His hands went to your waist, pulling you tightly to his chest. The fire coming off of him was scalding, you had pushed your luck too far with this one, and you could feel the volcano inside his ribcage boiling over. He was furious. His heavy armored head pushed against your brow, and you let your thumbs wrap around the bottom of his helmet to find the thinnest sliver of skin where the metal met the man.

“That’s right, I’m all yours.” When you had said that line to him the first time, you had been plotting your escape from his clutches, but as the reassuring words left your lips you knew there was nobody else in the galaxy you would have running their hands up your sides; and you mentally crossed ‘seduction’ off of your list of hunting skills for good. His oath of me'dinuir had swore him to your side alone, and now you knew without a shred of doubt that you wanted it to go both ways; whether you were Mandalorian or not.

You kissed at the bottom of his visor, so close to getting to feel the true, living flesh of him, and yet so far. You had to have him, you had to purge the demon’s touch from your body with the purifying fire of your protector’s rage. A choked, needy groan made its way out of the modulator, and you felt the heat of his breath on your skin. How desperately you wanted to taste it, fill your mouth with the flavor of him to replace the vile spotchka. You pushed up on his jaw, giving you just a tiny glance at his scruffy chin, and you forced your kisses into the tight, unyielding space of the beskar prison. It wasn’t enough for you, but it was a start, and you could feel his body starting to unwind at your touch. “Kiss me. Please, Mando.”

“Cyar'ika, it's not safe here.” He hated the sound of his own words, the denial of them crushing his very soul. You glanced around the dark penthouse and saw you were alone save for the crumpled devil on the floor and the designer purse that had been stashed in the corner of the room, its occupant still working on the bags of cookies. No eyes on us.

“I won’t look, just... lift your helmet a tiny bit, tin man, I need you, I need to kiss you.” You guessed you were safe enough from prying eyes, but you wouldn’t spill his name to the night just in case there were any sneaky listeners. You squeezed your own eyes shut and nipped at the armors edge again, and just ever-so-slightly began to push up on the unforgiving metal with your thumbs. You were just waiting for his hands to shoot up, to grab your wrists and halt your actions, but they were locked to your sides. Inch by inch you gradually lifted the armor, he would have all the time in the world to stop you, but when you felt the heat of his lips crash against yours you almost let your knees buckle out from under you. His strong arms were tight on your back, pulling you into him so he could kiss you harder.

So much better than spotchka. He was delicious, his taste, his feel, his scent, everything about him was intoxicating. So much more so than the despicable brew you had been throwing back all night, and a thousand times better than anything Elios could have offered. Blech. You realized then why the bounty had smelled so bad to you, though his perfume was expensive and his clothes freshly pressed, he was wrong for you. The wrongness was so overwhelming that it had nearly made you lose your drink, and you didn’t realize how wrong something could be until you tried to compare it to what was right. Din was right, he smelled of leather and beskar and the sweat of a man that had nearly combusted when someone else was at your side. And fresher soap! Thank the Maker.

A soft leather hand went to your head, pulling you into him so he could taste you better. His tongue ran over your lips, darting into you to find yours so they could dance together. You bit him playfully, and the way his breath hitched in his throat sent the fire of your core shooting all the way to your fingertips; and you knew right then that not even kissing his forbidden face would be enough for you. You pulled yourself from his lips, the snap of teeth following your retreat, reluctant to let you leave from the heat of the moment. Carefully, you let the beskar slide back down to cover him, and the anguished whine he let out into the night air almost broke your heart.

“I know, I know, I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” With him covered you glanced around the room until you saw the private bar. With your thumbs hooked in the pockets of his borrowed vest you guided the two of you towards it until the granite countertop knocked against your ass. You used his shoulders for leverage, hopping up onto the cold surface and wrapping your knees round his waist, happy to find exactly what you were expecting to throbbing between your legs. He pushed himself against you, the feel of his stolen silks on your holstered thighs giving you goosebumps. His heavy metal head fell against your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he ground up against your heat. He couldn’t contain himself around you, though you wouldn’t want him to if he could. You rocked your hips in time with his needy thrusts, and the growls in your ear almost made you think he would come undone with his pants still on. Can’t have that now, can we? "Mando, please fuck me, I can't wait anymore."

You heard thunder rumble out of his chest, sending electricity from where he was pressed to your shoulder straight down to where he was pulsing against your core. He was going to bring you the stars, alright, but not the ones in the night sky. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes from behind his visor, bringing a hand up to caress your pleading face.

"No, I don't want to fuck you." Your eyes shot wide, shocked that he wouldn't want you when he was rutting so hard into you that you could almost feel the dampness of precum through his layers. He saw your face and shook his head. "Elios wanted to fuck you, all of those creeps at the bar wanted to fuck you.” His helmet shook, trying to loosen the words he wanted to say. “No... I- I want to be better than them, I want to give you something else, s-something more.” He was struggling, his inexperience making it difficult to say what was on his mind. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be like them, he wanted to be worthy of you in ways they never could.

“Then make love to me instead.”

 “Yes!” The words leaving your lips were like music to his ears, so much more lovely than any song. “I want to do that! I want to make love to you, cyar’ika, if you’ll have me?”

You laughed, nodding your head to hide your bright red cheeks. How he managed to be so ferocious and so sweet on the same day was a mystery you didn’t want to solve. He quickly glanced around the room one more time just to be sure you were alone, the light of the gilded city sending streaks of color over the charms you had pressed to his cheeks. Satisfied that you were the only ones awake in the room, he leaned away from you to rip the constricting blazer off of himself so hard the fabric around his chest and shoulders started to tear. Beskar plates twinkled in the limelight, sending stars flying around the room while he worked his pants open. The sight of him springing into view made your heart flutter, among other things. Long and strong, a pearl of precum glimmering in the dark of the penthouse. His hands went to your legs, the leather of his palms snagging on the straps still belted to your thighs as he pushed the elegant fabric of your dress up to your waist. 

“You’re soaked.” You wished you could see what he saw through his visor, the sound of hitched breath telling you he could see you blooming for him clear as day, drinking you in with his hidden eyes. He hooked a thumb in the wet fabric of your panties to pull them out of the way, using his other hand to grip his cock and run the tip over your entrance, bumping against your clit while he lubed himself with your slick. You had to lean back until you were laying on the cold granite countertop, tilting your hips to the edge of the bar so he could see all of you on display. He pressed himself up and in, filling you slowly so he could indulge in every inch that disappeared inside. Your stretched walls clenched around him, making him shiver with each coiled squeeze. The Mandalorian you were giving yourself to pulled himself out of you carefully before thrusting back into you again, fighting every animalistic urge to just plow you into the bar. He was going to make good on his word, he wasn’t going to just fuck you.

But maybe he should have.

“Bing!” 

The penthouse elevator door chimed, and both of you pointed blasters on the figure that walked out from the pink haze of the lift into the dark of the room. “Elios? I know you’re up here, I’m just going to get- Oh. There you are.” The stranger spotted the crumpled, unconscious body on the floor, crossing the room until they stood over him. “About time someone split that beautiful lip of yours, Lee-lo.” The stranger that Mando had run into on the casino floor turned their tired eyes to the pair of you, noticing your obvious state of passion. “Oh please, don’t stop on my account, that’s not the worst thing I’ve walked into up here.” They squinted in the dark, then gasped softly, “Wait, it’s you! Oh good! I saw you when you were dancing and was just heartbroken when Lee-lo came between you.” The tall stranger did a little dance. “Fucking Elios.” They kicked at the Devaronian on the floor, “All he lives for is breaking hearts. I’m glad you two made up.”

The wisp of a stranger bent down to the motionless figure on the floor, yanking one of the gold rings from his horns. They said something too low for you to hear, then got up and left in another cloud of pink smoke, the elevator door closing behind them.

You both lowered your blasters, trying to wrap your collective heads around what had just happened. Mando was still buried to the hilt inside you, and you could feel him pulsing with need; but he had been right from the beginning. You weren’t safe here.

“That’s probably not the only spare key. We should go.” You whispered, trying to get your blaster back to its holster under your dress. He groaned, he was getting sick of being torn away from you. He pulled himself almost all the way out, thrust in one more time for good luck, and released himself with a pop! He pulled you to your feet, helping you down from the bar and onto the Maker-forsaken boots you still had on. Fuck these. You ripped the boots off, chucking them somewhere into the dark and crossed the room barefoot to where the oversized purse held the foundling. You were happy to see him all tuckered out in a pile of cookie wrappers, probably not the healthiest thing for him, but it worked. Behind you, your armored companion was hauling the quarry over his shoulder none too gently, ‘accidentally’ knocking his bloody head against the wall as he turned back to you. You both made for the balcony door to the speeder you had noticed earlier, tossing the bounty in the back seat like a bag of garbage. 

The ride back to the Crest was thick with anticipation, you weren't finished with each other just yet. Mando pulled the speeder right up to the ramp so you wouldn’t have to walk across sharp gravel, chucking the bounty in after you so hard he slid through the messy cabin and smashed into the wall. You slung the damned devil into the carbonite chamber, punching the freeze button with gusto. The ramp closed behind your armored companion, barely giving you a chance to get up onto the hoverskiff that still dominated the cabin floor before the lights went off. You yanked the dress over your head, listening for the sound of more fabric hitting the floor, then the clanking of beskar being tossed carelessly aside. Belts and snaps and zippers went flying, and you had to try not to laugh at the absurd amount of clothes he had to take off. The skiff tilted with new weight, and the body of a Mandalorian was on top of you, warm lips hunting for yours.

He’s naked! Every piece of armor and shred of clothing was gone, and the feel of bare skin against your body was electrifying. His mouth crashed against yours, fervent kisses desperate to taste you again. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him into you to kiss back. He was hungry for you, biting at your mouth and tongue like a man starved. Plush lips made their way from your mouth down your neck, nipping at your throat and sucking the tender skin until you had bruises to match the ones on your thighs. His hands wandered down your body, rubbing at your breast and teasing your nipples until you were gasping for more. The devious digits moved on until his hand was between your legs, pushing at your folds and finding your clit to spin circles on. He was becoming an expert at finding what made you squirm and whine from his touch, rolling callused fingertips into you until you were making a delicious mess on the pile of stolen silk. 

But he wasn’t done there. The fuzzy kisses went from your breast down your belly to where his fingers were working into you. He pulled his hands from your soaked cunt and replaced them with his face, pushing his tongue up against the tiny ball of nerves that had so much power over you. Short, quick circles between long, languid licks had you arching your back and pulling his hair, demanding more. Lost in the heat of your thighs he was happy to give you everything, pushing the smooth muscle of his mouth into your slit and upwards against your clit until you were seeing stars again. 

Your hands couldn’t stop exploring him, from his thick head of curls to the strength of his shoulders. The muscles kept going, tight coils on his back and the warm, rigid wall of his chest. The trail of fuzz on his belly went up farther than you were expecting it to, and the fine hairs tickled your fingers on almost every inch of his skin. Your hands trailed over the numerous, vicious scars that marred his flesh like a road map of every near-death experience he had lived through. Gashes on his arms and burns on his sides had healed over into smooth, textureless skin, the marks of a seasoned hunter that nobody but their barer had ever seen.

Having drank his fill, he pulled his face from the apex of your thighs, pushing your knees apart and quickly sheathing himself in you with a ragged groan. Mando’a praises poured from his lips, some you were familiar but many you weren’t, though all of them made your heart flutter. Strong hands wrapped around your knees to keep you in place on the wobbly sled while he pounded into you, the feeling of bare skin on the backs of your legs making you wish you could see him in the light. But the darkness was the greatest keeper of secrets, hiding your love making from the condemnation of his creed. 

Make love. Though the phrase was just another on the long list of euphemisms used for sex, the pair of words weighed heavy with meaning in their new context. You wanted to explore the concept the way your hands explored his body, but the fire of your core was thrumming with heat, demanding your undivided attention. Din fell forward to your chest, the sweat of his efforts sticking to your breasts. Wandering kisses sent fire over your skin as he made his way over your peaks, sucking hard on their tender buds. Beskar-strong hips rocked against yours until you saw fireworks again, bearing down so hard on him with your orgasm that he sank his teeth into the crook of your shoulder. Bites made their way from where he had surely drawn blood on your flesh up your neck til they turned to kisses again. His brow pushed against your forehead, though your lips were right there he still defaulted to the only show of affection his armored inheritance allowed. Hot gasps of air puffed over your skin from the heat of his breath, and you knew he was close. You locked your legs around him, forcing him to pump every last drop of himself into you, painting your walls with his seed until it was spilling down your ass onto the piles of clothes.

The strength of his arms gave up, and he let himself fall against you, his face pushed against your cheek. You could feel his bristles brushing over your skin as his breath heaved, soft but scratchy. His hands wrapped under you and up your back, hugging you to his bare chest so hard the air was squeezed from your lungs. Fuzzy-lipped kisses dotted your cheeks and face, taking extra time to kiss your lips, each one a promise of more to come. You dragged your nails over his back, making him groan and shake at the touch. Never had anyone to scratch that itch, have you, tinman? Tight muscles loosened under your careful touch, making him sink harder onto you until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. 

You wanted to stay there forever, but as the sweat on your bodies cooled it became sticky and made pulling yourselves apart a chore. Both of you reluctantly made your way off of the skiff, clinging to the walls of the cabin while he hunted for his helmet in the dark. Lights came on gradually once his bucket was back in place so you could find your own clothes, and when you had both gotten yourselves put back together you piled everything you had stolen onto the hoverskiff and pushed it back down the ramp of the Crest. The Mandalorian was back in his beskar, and he cocked his vambrace back and shot a wall of fire onto the little sled, incinerating all evidence of your thievery and passion. The bonfire burned brightly on the gravelly beach of the Cantonican ocean, sending flaming ash into the light of the new dawn. 

You decided to keep the red pocket square that you had tucked in on his costume, though you weren't sure what you would need it for again. Sentimental. You went to the supply crates where your backpack and droid mask were kept so you could squirrel the thing away, when you caught the familiar glowing blue of spotchka at the bottom of the larder. The horrible color made you fucking nauseous after today, but even more distressing was that you realized it was just sitting there unsecured when there was an impish child onboard that could easily get into the bottled brew and make himself sick, or worse.

“Din, we need to put this somewhere safer.”  You held the liquid lantern up for him to see what you were talking about. “What if our foundling gets into it? He might get really sick or-”

“Our?”

Shit. “Sorry, your foundling. Your foundling might get-” Din crossed the small space of the cabin until he was standing close to you, the child in question tucked against his chest. The baby’s big, nebulous eyes glittered up at you, and you couldn’t help reaching out to rub his sail-like ears. He chirped happily at your touch, and as much as you wanted to keep your eyes on him, his father was towering over you, making you squirm under his tilted glare. 

“Say that again.”

“Your foundling.”

“No. The other word.”

“Our?” 

“All of it.”

“Our foundling?”  His helmet cocked to the other side, doing his big metal bird impression. The arm that wasn’t holding the child pulled you up against his chest, squeezed right against the baby in question. The familiar galaxy-erasing hug made you realize how many times you had thought of the child as your own, he was your little buddy, your missing baby when he had been stolen away, your secret weapon that you had hidden in your purse. But he wasn’t your child, he was Din’s, so for him to also be considered as yours…

“Ours.” Above you the word was spoken like it was new, as strange on his tongue as Mando’a was to you. “Our foundling. I like that.”

You couldn’t turn your head up to look at the man who had you wrapped against himself so tightly, but you could smile at the green little child that was flashing you his adorable toothy grin. You little fart, you thought with a laugh, you’re gonna make me go all soft. Almost as though the creature could hear your thoughts he squealed in delight, patting your cheeks with his fat baby paws. You let your arms circle around the boys that had made your life a roller coaster of emotion blasting through the endless sea of stars. It might be a hell of a ride, but you weren't ready to get off any time soon. The memory of the sands of Tatooine where you had been trying to forget the dangers of the universe was starting to fade away, replaced by the moment you were losing yourself in. You were happy to see it go, though your past self would be shocked at how comfortable you had gotten with a magic alien baby and a man with no face.

“Yeah… I like it too.” You hummed into the beskar, feeling Din’s arms tighten even more. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, because the lovely smile had vanished. This is all going to end soon. You buried your face in the tiny space between the foundling and his father’s armor, trying to ignore where the coaster’s rails ended. Only one stop left.

Nevarro, here we come.

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[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, theydraggedmein!

For @theydraggedmein. I hope you like this story!

Fic inspired by Melsephant's Monster of the Week Comic, specifically Solidarity and by the freedom of creation from my Secret Santa giftee

Tags: Supernatural is somewhat known, Stiles is a Selkie, Alive Hales, Friends to Lovers, Quickburn, Workplace Setting, Light/Background Angst, Communication

Read On AO3

*****

Selkie Solidarity

Stiles’ alarm doesn’t go off when it’s supposed to and he wakes up about two hours late for work.

Thankfully, he has an understanding boss with even more understanding bosses, so when he calls in, they just tell him to get himself there safely and don’t worry about it.

Stiles hops in and out of the shower so fast his suit doesn’t even have time to dry before he stuffs his clothing into a waterproof bag, chucks his phone and wallet in too, and leaps off his balcony to do a perfect seal dive into the water below.

He makes good time swimming, but nothing changes the fact that he’s late and he and his office mate were supposed to be running expense reports all day today.The final step before the merge negotiations happening next week.Thankfully they got most of it done this past week, but still, Stiles feels bad about slacking when his office mate is such a good sport. Without him there, Derek’s probably gone a little grumpy around the edges, the way he always does whenever Stiles is inevitably late.

Stiles passes a delicatessen and backtracks. He’s already late, so a few minutes more isn’t a huge deal, and Derek does love everything bagels.

Stiles climbs out of the water, ducks behind some brush, and sheds his suit. He tugs on his clothes, checks his phone for messages—none—and grabs a twenty out of his wallet.

Then, bag slung across his back, he troops into the deli and orders three everything bagels, two for Derek and one for him because he hasn’t had breakfast yet.

Then, it’s an exchange of his clothes for his suit, making sure the bag with the bagels is secured in his bag, and then leaping back into the river to finish his commute.

He’s already apologizing when he races into his and Derek’s office.

“Dude, I know I’m so, so late, but, look, I got us bagels!”

He stops short at the sight of Derek, shifted into his full werewolf form, hunched over his computer and poking at his keyboard.

He looks miserable, his snout long and dripping with saliva where his teeth are too big to retract anymore. His claws keep catching on the keys and he stares at them sadly before huffing out a sigh and starting again.

Stiles digs out the bagels and plops the bag onto Derek’s desk. Comically, Derek’s nose twitches. He looks at Stiles with his baleful eyes before gently opening the top of the bag and with far more care than Stiles is used to seeing from Shifted-Derek, he plucks out a bagel and pops it whole into his mouth.

As Derek chews with the power of a ravenous wolf, Stiles glances at the little calendar Derek keeps pinned to his side of the office.

“Oh man,” Stiles remarks, tracing the outline of the day. “Full moon? That’s rough, buddy. I’m sorry.”

Derek shrugs and picks out his second bagel. “s’okay,” he mumbles, spraying saliva and crumbs everywhere. “T’nks for bagels.”

His over large teeth and flopping tongue make his words nearunintelligible and kind of fascinating. Stiles wishes Derek would talk more during his shifts, but he also knows that Derek doesn’t like making messes even though he’s good at cleaning them up, so he tries not to make messes. And talking with his shifted mouth is about the messiest Derek can be. Second only to eating while shifted.

Stiles takes his bagel and sits down to boot up his computer. Derek hasn’t eaten his second bagel, and instead seems to be waiting for Stiles to start eating his. A quick bite confirms this, and Stiles smiles at Derek.

“So, shall we get those expense reports done?”

No argument from Derek, who seems to be trying to savor his second bagel.

Whatever. It’s cute. That’s why Stiles got them for him. He likes doing things like that for Derek, even when he isn’t almost two and a half hours late.

After a few more minutes of Derek struggling to type with his claws, Stiles turns to him. “Should I shift too?” he asks, gently. Derek barely moves his head, but Stiles feels stared at all the same. “I mean, if you’re stuck in your form, wouldn’t it be less awkward for me to be shifted too?”

“Work?”

Stiles shrugs. “I was late today. How productive am I really going to be?”

Derek looks at his keyboard. It isn’t really functional, and he’ll probably just keep tapping at it and then replace it on Monday when he can shift back. “Broken?”

Stiles waves his hands. “They’re flippers, dude. I don’t think they can do that much damage.”

Derek tilts his head while he thinks about it. It’s such a cute pose that Stiles has to physically turn back to his computer and enter his password before he accidentally squees out loud or something equally embarrassing.

“Okay,” Derek finally says. “T’nks.”

“Be right back!” Stiles grabs his bag and skips off to the bathroom where he exchanges his clothes for his suit and then happily bounces back to his and Derek’s shared office.

Derek straightens for a few minutes when Stiles gets back. At first, he thinks it’s because Derek is laughing at him. Stiles isn’t the most graceful in his human form, but in his seal form, he’s simultaneously better and worse at moving. If the office were water, he’d be grand.

Derek huffs a few times before slowly stepping off his chair and motioning Stiles to his chair. And, whoops, yeah, Stiles forgot that he’d have to climb all the way up there.

He gives Derek a hopeful bark and Derek nods. Together, mostly because of Derek’s brute strength, they get Stiles situated in his chair and ready to do as much work as his flippers can manage on his keyboard.

Surprisingly, despite Derek’s general malaise of being a werewolf in the midst of an uncontrolled shift, and Stiles’ selkie solidarity, they get a lot of work done. And surprisingly, Derek just holds half of the second bagel in his mouth for a long time before it disintegrates into mush and he swallows it.

Their boss pokes his head and shoulders in around lunchtime, some request dying on his invisible lips.

Stiles gives him a happy bark, and Derek follows it up with a less-pained wuff than he’s been giving lately.

“I just wanted to see how those reports were coming along, but I guess never mind.” Kindly, he adds, “If you ever need time off something like this, just let us know. We have a secondary set of time off for supernatural afflictions.”

Derek growls lowly before nodding. He stands up, hands his ruined keyboard to their boss, and walks out.

Stiles waits a few seconds to see if Derek will come back. It’s insulting to call their supernatural abilities afflictions, but Stiles can kind of see where their boss gets it from. He is invisible after all. There’s so many things he can’t do anymore because he inherently gets called a creep. In fact, he has to wear clothes on top of his invisible clothes constantly or risk being called out for being naked.

To him, being invisible is an affliction. To Derek, being a werewolf is like being human: natural.

Same with Stiles and his selkie side. He doesn’t even think of it as an affliction.

Derek doesn’t return, and Stiles decides that he might as well shift back and actually get something done, so he bounces off to the bathroom, tucks his suit away, and walks back to his office.

He finds Derek’s sister Laura standing by his desk. She has a note in hand and a tray of coffees. Stiles doesn’t think he was gone that long.

“Derek wanted to apologize for running off,” Laura says, thrusting the coffee tray at Stiles. One cup is already missing.

She hands him the note after he selects a mocha cappuccino. Then she installs a new keyboard at Derek’s computer and heads out.

Stiles opens the note. It’s a shaky apology written by Derek. Stiles flips it over and, avoiding the tears made from Derek’s claws, writes an acceptance of the apology and leaves it on the brand new keyboard. He’s not insulted by Derek needing time off. This full moon seems rougher than normal.

If Stiles really thinks about it, Derek’s tolerance and control during the full moons has been getting less for a long time. Almost six months. Something to think about.

He decides that he’ll bake Derek some of his prize winning double chocolate chip cookies when he sees him again.

It’s Friday today, so that means that Stiles won’t see him until Monday, and they have a meeting, so maybe he should do the cookies thing on Tuesday?

For now, he focuses on his computer and manages to complete all the expense reports they had planned.

5:00 rolls around and Stiles all but dances into the bathroom, switches into his suit, slides his bag on, and bounces out into the river for his commute home.

~ * ~

All weekend, Stiles does his normal routine, which involves staying up way too late and playing online games with friends halfway across the world. Then, he takes a quick, two hour break to make his apology-accepted-sorry-your-full-moons-suck cookies, because why not?, and clean his apartment.

Monday, he makes sure he has everything, including an actual suit for the meeting with their new clients, the ones he and Derek were doing expense reports for, slides into his suit, and speeds off to work.

He barely gets to greet Derek with the tin of cookies before they both have to change into their suits for the meeting. Stiles slings his bag on his back. He doesn’t like leaving it out of sight for too long, his mom and dad impressing upon him at a young age that selkies can’t trust people with their suits when they’re not in them. In fact, Stiles has a cousin who only just got away from her abusive partner that kept her suit locked away the whole time they were married.

Their boss is standing at the door to the conference room. He is made up to look as if he’s got an actual face for once. He’s wearing gloves and is dressed fully in the required suit. It’s a little uncanny valley, but has the desired effect of making all of him visible.

“Sorry, Stiles, you need to leave your bag somewhere secure.”

“What? Why?”

One of Derek’s ears twitches as he squeezes past them and sits next to Laura, who in addition to being Derek’s sister, is the head of their IT department.

“The clients. They’re human. We’re presenting as human today. I’m sorry, but you have to leave your bag off for this meeting.”

Stiles wants to bite out something about discrimination, but he knows how hard the supernatural world has worked for this. Their firm is the first human-supernatural merger, and if it goes well, there will be others.

“Isn’t this the meeting we reveal ourselves?” Stiles asks. That was the rumor around the water cooler a few weeks back.

“No.” His boss shakes his head. “We merge. Business goes on as usual. Another, more visible, supernatural business merges with another human business. The humans are told at that merger, and if there are any uprisings, we represent cases of discrimination.”

“What if our partners end up being discriminatory against us?” one of the more timid department heads asks. Stiles thinks his name is Boyd. He’s a werewolf, like Derek. It’s a good question, and it’s good coming from Boyd. He was rescued from a hunter farm where they bred and-slash-or forced werewolf creation so that they could “find out what makes them tick.”

Thank fuck that had been shut down right quick.

That’s what these mergers are all about: eliminating the humans’ natural instinct of being afraid of or hurting their supernatural counterparts.

“This firm has been heavily vetted. There can be no room for error here,” Stiles’ boss says. “Unfortunately that means that, for the press release, there can be no evidence of supernatural. Stiles, I am so sorry, you have to leave your bag somewhere. You will be compensated for your time without it.”

Stiles scoffs. “You think you can name a price and buy off my anxiety about my suit?” He looks at Derek, who looks murderous, at Laura, frowning, one hand on Derek’s arm, like she’s restraining him, at Boyd, who looks terrified. He sighs. “Fine. I’ll go hide my bag. But,” he adds, vehemently, “only because not doing so would endanger more than myself.”

“Hurry back,” his boss says. “The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.”

Stiles mutters a curse under his breath as he heads back to his and Derek’s office. There’s no place here at work that he feels safe enough to hide his suit, and there’s not enough time to call his dad to guard it for him.

Then he thinks about the file cabinet. It’s kept locked all the time. Paper copies of all the files he and Derek work on. He and Derek have keys, as does their boss. If he locks it in there, it should be safe for the meeting.

And he can check on it at lunch to make sure it’s still safe and sound. Stiles unlocks the top drawer, shoves the bag as deep as it can go, and heads back to the conference room, pausing to sneeze as some scent tickles his nose a little much. He slinks to his seat next to Derek and sits down.

Derek pats his arm, whispering, “I’m sorry,” without moving his lips.

Stiles shakes his head, turns to watch as the merging firm marches in, and the meeting begins.

~ * ~

Four hours later, Stiles heads back to his office under the guise of a quick refresher break.

When he gets to the room, he stares in shock at the destruction he sees there.

His and Derek’s computers have been knocked over, the towers scratched and smashed. Thank goodness for external servers. At least their work won’t be too disrupted while it’s fixed.

He turns to survey the rest of the room and his heart freezes in his chest.The file cabinet is leaning against the wall, all the drawers jimmied open, their contents spilled everywhere. Derek’s meticulous filing system ruined in a few moments.

But most heart-stopping of all is the fact that Stiles’ bag is gone.

It’s not anywhere in the mess and it isn’t still in the drawer he left it in.

Stiles runs around, digging frantically, in case he missed it. He also sneezes again and again, and finally pauses. He’s been gone too long. He’ll be missed at lunch, which they’re having catered in the conference room.

No. This is too important. Stiles isn’t hungry. He feels rather sick and on the verge of a panic attack.

He knows his nose is good, better than a human’s, but he knows better noses. He remembers when he first met Derek, and Derek was an awkward co-worker who claimed that Stiles stunk of the river even though, at that time, Stiles only went swimming on the weekend and used regular transport like his less aquatically-inclined counterparts.

Stiles hurries back to the conference room, grabs Derek’s arm, and drags him out, muttering something about a number or some shit.

Derek reverses their grip, holding onto Stiles as he leads him back to their office. Derek stares at the mess.

“What happened?” He doesn’t sound like he’s asking Stiles, so Stiles doesn’t bother to answer. He just goes to the file cabinet and points at the drawer where he’d stashed his bag.

Derek nods sharply, inhales deeply, and then points back out to the hallway. Stiles follows him as he goes through the building until they’re out on the street.

Lunch is probably being served now, but Stiles can’t find it in himself to worry about it. He and Derek already presented their expense reports. They’re clear for the rest of the day. It’s just that the firm wanted representation from all departments to be there for the whole of the negotiations. And lunch is also negotiations for some reason.

“Here,” Derek says suddenly, jerking Stiles into a coffee shop down the block from their building.

There’s a few customers in line and they all jump, muttering angrily as Derek budges.

He stops in front of the barista, a woman in her twenties, with long brown hair pulled into a requisite ponytail, green visor “protecting” her eyes.

“Sir, the line starts back there,” she says, bored.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Derek asks.

Stiles frowns at him. Girlfriend? He leans closer, catches a whiff of something spicy on her. It tickles his nose, and he stifles a sneeze into Derek’s back. Oh hell. They’re both still wearing their suits. It makes a hysterical laugh bubble up in his throat. Derek pats at him clumsily but comfortingly.

The barista blinks. “My girlfriend is none of your business,” she snaps.

“She is when she steals something from my boyfriend,” Derek snaps back.

Stiles chokes on his spit. Boyfriend?News to him.

Derek gives him a quick, apologetic glance, before turning back to glare at the barista.

She caves rather quickly then. “Sorry. She’s in the back. What did she take?”

“A green bag, waterproof. Everything that was in it had better be in it when you get it back. My boyfriend will confirm.”

“I’m sorry about this. I thought she’d gotten over it.”

Derek just points to the back.

Behind him, the line takes a collective step back, some of the people mutter about being late, but for the most part, they all look too intrigued to leave. Shame.Stiles really doesn’t want to reveal to a whole roomful of people that he’s a selkie.

Derek grips his elbow and steers him to the far side of the counter so that they’re no longer in the line’s way. Another barista steps up and things start flowing again. No one leaves even after they get their orders. Crap. It’s like daytime TV, so hilariously bad as to be completely riveting. Stiles could do without the starring role though.

The first barista comes back, leading a pinkish-tinged woman with bright pink hair and cat ears headband by the hand.Stiles sneezes as soon as he catches her scent, the same spicy one on the barista, and definitely the same one in his and Derek’s office.

The pink woman has Stiles’ bag clutched tightly in one hand, the other is still being held by the barista.

“She’s sorry about taking your bag,” the barista says. She squeezes her girlfriend’s hand, and wordlessly, she offers Stiles his bag. Stiles grabs it, digging through to see that everything he’d left in there is still in there, including his suit. He strokes it before hugging the bag to his chest.

The pink woman nods at him. “Soft,” she says, voice low, sweet.

“I’m so sorry about that,” the barista says. “It’s just, she’s a pixie, y’know? She has compulsions.”

“Soft,” the woman says again.

“Yes,” Derek agrees. “It is soft. But it’s his.” He draws his eyebrows down, but it’s not his mad face. Stiles has become quite the expert on Derek’s faces after a year as office mates.

He knows they’re friends now because Derek doesn’t make his I-hate-you-and-want-to-rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teethface anymore, but he hadn’t known Derek thought they were dating. They haven’t gone on any dates. It’s an oversight Stiles will have to correct, and soon.Unless, a stray thought mocks, Derek only said that to get the bag back quicker. Stiles’ stomach drops. They’re still friends, so whatever direction Derek decides to go in after today, Stiles will respect his choice, even if it doesn’t include him.

“Soft,” the pixie repeats, making a gimme motion with her free hand.

“I’m so sorry,” the barista says again. “I used to have a coat like that, but it got lost.”

Derek’s brow furrows. “Where did it ‘get lost’?” he asks. Stiles leans closer. Derek has his I’m-going-to-solve-this-even-if-it-means-an-international-incident face on. Stiles has seen that face exactly once: when he ousted a hunter cell that was operating near their firm. Derek’s mother, high level ambassador in the supernatural-human merges, had come down swiftly and kept other hunter groups from retaliating. Stiles surreptitiously slides out his phone and picks out Laura’s number. He doesn’t dial quite yet though.

Derek’s faces, while always a clear sign of what Derek is going to do, are not always indicative of the trouble they may or may not cause. Mostly, it depends on the other parties’ reaction to 200 pounds of pissed off werewolf suddenly appearing in their faces.

The barista makes a face. “My ex-boyfriend stole it one night. And I couldn’t exactly tell the cops what it was, so he’s still got it. I’m unharmed for the most part. Sometimes,though, I can feel him stroking it.”

“That’s good that he hasn’t hurt you through it,” Stiles says. He hasn’t really gotten into dating specifically because of the horror stories from his mom and dad. From the look on Derek’s face, this ex-boyfriend is going to be dead when they meet him.

“What’s his name? Where does he live?”

Derek is speaking lowly, but even the pixie draws back, a look of fear on her face.

Stiles pats at Derek’s arm. “The full moon was just yesterday,” he explains. “He’s really good with control, but it might still be affecting him.” He shows the barista his phone. “This is his sister. His whole family will help you get your coat back.”

She covers her mouth, tears already running down her face. The pixie turns to her and starts swiping at them, making little distressed noises.

“No, no. they’re happy tears. They’re going to help us get my soft back.”

“Soft?” The pixie gives both Stiles and Derek a long, assessing look before nodding fiercely. “Friends.”

They get more information from the barista before she checks her watch, flinches, and says, “I have to get back to work. Thank you for doing this. Bye.”

Stiles checks his own watch. They’ve used up all their lunch break and if they don’t leave right now, they’ll be late for the other half of their meeting.

Derek seems to realize it too, because he deflates a little. “I’ll call my mom. She and my uncle can go get her suit back.”

“Coat,” Stiles corrects. “I call mine a suit. She calls hers a coat.”

Derek smiles then. “Remind me that I have to tell you something when all this is over.”

“What?”

Before Stiles can attempt to get it out of him now, Derek starts running, and Stiles has to run to keep up with him. As much as Stiles knows Derek, Derek knows Stiles too. It’s frustrating sometimes, like now, when they’re running half a block back to their firm.

When they get back to the conference room, their boss, looking a little less visible with some of his makeup worn off, ushers them into the room. Derek fakes needing the restroom, promises to be back in two minutes, and runs off. Stiles sits down and pretends to pay attention.

Derek comes back in the promised two minutes, sits next to Stiles, and together they just listen as the finer details of the merge are finalized and suddenly, they’ve doubled in size.

Derek and Laura both get a call as soon as the workday ends, and before Stiles can ask what’s up or what Derek needs to tell him, they’re both shifted and gone.

Stiles sighs. There’s always tomorrow.

He changes into his suit, glad to have it back, and swims home.

~ * ~

Tuesday dawns bright and early without sun and with a dripping wet werewolf sitting on the end of Stiles’ bed.

Stiles screams and throws the first thing he can grab—his alarm clock—at the werewolf, and Derek tumbles to the floor with a muted oof.

Stiles flicks on the light and points at Derek. “Explain,” he says. “Why did you try to give me a heart attack in the middle of the night?”

Derek rolls his shoulders in a self-conscious shrug. “’snot the middle of the night,” he mutters, pettily.

Stiles points at his clock. “Well, I wouldn’t know. I had to use my timepiece as an improvised weapon.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to—” Derek spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. Stiles can’t read it. He’d gotten so good at reading Derek’s facial expressions and tones but he forgot to learn his body language as well.Mostly because Derek doesn’t use body language. He sits still and doesn’t give clues. Stiles takes a metaphoric step back, studies Derek for a long, solemn moment, and then offers his hand to pull him up on the bed.

“Why are you wet?” he asks, more gently.

Derek rolls his shoulders again, like he’s trying to work out a kink, but it’s probably embarrassment that’s pinching his nerves.

“I wanted to update you on the pixie and the selkie,” he says, eyes fixed on his lap. “I only know you smell like the river a lot, so I followed it up.” A flush creeps up his neck, and he ducks his head down more. “I fell in,” he says miserably.

Stiles can’t help the laugh that comes out of him. He slaps his hand over his mouth, but the damage is done. Derek shakes his head once, and moves to get up. Stiles grabs his wrist.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you—well maybe a little. I mean, you’re a werewolf and you fell in the river?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Derek says.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Derek says, and then mumbles the next part too low for even Stiles’ selkie ears to hear.

“What was that?”

Derek repeats himself louder and faster. It’s still just a jumbled mess of syllables that mean nothing to Stiles.

“Couldn’t catch that, dear, repeat again please. And enunciate.”

Derek lifts his head, determination burning in his eyes. “I said,” he speaks slowly, more, Stiles gets the feeling, to get the words out, than through annoyance at having to repeat himself for a third time, “that I fell in because I caught your scent and got distracted.”

Stiles doesn’t know how to respond to that, because, aside from the pretend-to-be-boyfriends to get Stiles’ suit back, Derek has expressed zero interest in Stiles like that. So why would he fall in the river after catching Stiles’ scent?

Stiles decides it’s too early and goes with a less confusing topic of conversation. “You said you wanted to update me on the pixie and the barista?”

Derek nods, grabbing the offered opportunity gratefully. “My mom and uncle found the ex-boyfriend easily. And because werewolves, they were able to locate and secure the coat quickly. Turns out he’s just a regular human obsessed with selkie lore and just wanted to have control over her.”

“Is he in jail?”

Derek shakes his head. “How can we arrest him? Humans aren’t exactly aware of the supernatural yet. My mom is going to keep an eye on him, and my uncle promised to put the fear of Peter into him.”

“‘The fear of Peter’?”Stiles raises an eyebrow. “That’s awfully cocky of your uncle Peter.” He gets a quirked smile in response. Stiles has met Peter once, and that was enough for Stiles to realize that Peter, if he didn’t like you, could make your life miserable.

Thankfully, Peter seemed to like Stiles, and he hasn’t been subjected to more of his particular brand of Peter-ness.

“Anyway,” Derek continues, “I wanted to tell you that Ari got her coat back, and Livie is sorry for taking yours.”

“I get it. She probably thought it was Ari’s.”

“Yeah, and one more thing: I think I love you.”

Stiles blinks at the confession. Blood rushes in his ears and it’s a little difficult to breathe.

“What?” he manages to whisper.

Derek makes eye contact with the wall past Stiles’ head. Choked, he says, “I think I’m in love with you. It’s why my full moons have been getting worse. My anchor is shifting. It’s you.”

“What?” Stiles repeats. Derek’s head drops, his shoulders droop. Confused, Stiles just stares at him.

“My anchor isn’t what it was before. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. It’s too much. I’m sorry.”

He stands up almost too fast for Stiles to grab him again. “No!”

Derek looks at where Stiles is gripping his wrist. “No?” he asks, and it sounds so, so hopeful.

“No,” Stiles says, settling back, tugging Derek gently until he’s back on the bed. “Don’t go. Tell me more about your anchor. Tell me more about you. ‘Cause, Derek, you’re not the only one who thinks they’re in love.”

Derek’s eyes go to Stiles’ chest—his heartbeat. “I love you,” Stiles says, and the skip in his heartbeat isn’t from a lie. It’s because he’s realizing the truth. He may have been able to reason with himself at the coffee shop yesterday, and even explain away all the little anomalies of being attracted to his officemate as being friends, but he knows with certainty, he wants to be actual boyfriends with Derek.

He wants Derek here, in his space, wants to help him get his wolf back in control during the full moons, wants to get him bagels every morning, wants, wants, wants, so steady, it’s like his heartbeat.

And when Derek leans in, asks, “May I?” so gently and carefully before kissing Stiles’ like he’s the most precious thing in the world, Stiles knows, Derek wants too.

Warmth surges in his veins and he deepens the kiss, holding it like a breath, kissing like their lives depend on it, and trying to climb into the space in Derek’s heart that is already calling his name.

~ End ~

[chicgeekgirl89]

Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chap. 6

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Lisa Davis, and the rest of the team

Read Chapters 1-5 Here

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sonny was choking. He was choking and he couldn’t breathe. His eyes flew open in panic, hands clawing at his throat, his face, trying to stop whoever was killing him. Alarms were going off, beeping everywhere, and people yelling. His hands were grabbed and he couldn’t fight off his attackers. He was going to die. But before he could panic about that he felt a heaviness flood through him and he drifted away.

The next time he woke up he was not choking. A definite improvement. So was the bed he was lying on. Huh. Had their abductors decided to take things up a few levels? Was he a pretty princess locked in a tower now?

Risking a look he cracked an eye open and found white ceiling tiles rather than dirty cement. “Oh thank god,” he croaked out.

“Pretty sure it was Davis, not God,” said a familiar voice.

Turning his head Sonny spotted Clay in a matching hospital bed. “Hey, we’re both alive.”

“Surprise,” Clay said with a grin. “No thanks to you. You slept through the whole thing.”

“I’m willing to give you full credit,” Sonny said, wincing as he shifted in the bed. “Once you take into account the fact that I took the heat at the beginning to save your pretty face.”

Clay glared at him. “I have five broken ribs asshole.”

That took him aback. “Shit. When did that happen?”

“Right before the guys showed up.”

“Damn it.” Sonny shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You have such a bad case of pneumonia they had to intubate you. Which you did not like, by the way. Nearly gave the doctor a black eye the first time you woke up. Took both Trent and Jason to hold you down. They gave you so much sedation after that I thought you were going to sleep forever.”

Whoops. No wonder his throat was raw and his chest felt like it was full of fire. “How’d they find us?”

“Davis. And the girl who brought us the water and food.”

There was a lot more to that story but Sonny was too tired for all the details now. “How long have we been here?”

“Two days in a hospital overseas until you were good to travel. Only been home a day. I’m getting sprung tomorrow. You’re in for a while.”

Sonny frowned at him. “How come you get early release?”

“Because I’m the pretty one.”

Sonny tried to chuckle but it made him cough. Apparently he wasn’t quite back to top form. Fatigue was pulling at his eyes and he couldn’t seem to stop it. “They’ve got you on some pretty strong stuff,” Clay said, all teasing gone from his voice. “It’s all right if you need to take a nap.”

“Just a little one,” Sonny mumbled.

When he woke up the next time an oxygen mask had replaced the nasal cannula he’d been sporting earlier. A glance to his right told him Clay was sleeping and the darkness of the room told him it was late. Or maybe early. His internal clock was out of whack.

He felt worse than he had earlier. His head and joints ached again and he was sweaty but cold. Maybe the medication was wearing off.

Worse than all that, he had to pee. He wasn’t sure he could make it out of bed, let alone stand in front of a toilet, but when nature called…

He clumsily shoved the mask off his face and shifted, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up. He slid to the edge of the mattress, legs dangling in the air as the world tilted back and forth. Oh…this was probably a bad idea.

Something stirred in the corner next to him and nearly scared him out of his wits. “Sonny, what are you doing?” Lisa asked sleepily.

Apparently she had been sleeping by his bedside and she was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Hitting the head,” Sonny told her.

“Uh, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think they took care of that for you,” she said meaningfully, glancing down at his groin area.

It took his brain a second to catch what she was referring to; he hadn’t noticed the catheter earlier. “Well ain’t that a delight,” he drawled.

Moving to the edge of the bed had cost him. He felt shaky and just…sick. Davis sat forward, uncertainty on her face. “You all right?”

“I’ve…been better,” he admitted.

“You need help?”

His inclination was to say no, but damn it he wasn’t sure he could move. “Sonny?” The look in her eyes told him she was about to panic and call a nurse or something so he nodded. “Yeah. Please.”

She stood and helped guide him back against the pillows, pushing the oxygen back over his face. Her hand caressed his forehead, fingers trailing gently down his cheek. “Your fever keeps spiking and your lungs are full of fluid again. That’s why they put you back on oxygen. You want me to call a nurse?”

What he really wanted was for her to keep touching him like that. The tenderness of it after so many days of brutality made his throat tighten up as tears pricked his eyes. “No,” he said, voice muffled by the mask. “No I don’t need the nurse.”

She sat back down in the chair, sliding it a little closer to his bed. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“This was the first I could get away,” she said. “I wanted to check on you. Both of you.”

Right, both of them. Her team members. That was why she was here. “You just decided to spend the night because…you like plastic hospital chairs?”

She shrugged. “You weren’t breathing very well. And I didn’t want to leave until I was sure you were okay.”

Oh. “I’m all right. Take more’n a bunch of bad guys to keep me down.”

She slid her hands up and down her legs like she did when she was nervous. “You uh mind if I stay and make sure?”

Lord he hoped she couldn’t tell that his heart monitor had started beeping faster. “Yeah, sure that’s fine.”

He must have drifted off after that because when he woke in the morning Lisa was gone and Clay was eating breakfast. “Told them you didn’t want any,” he said over a mouthful of hospital jello. “They let me have yours.”

Sonny rallied enough strength to toss a pillow at him, which Clay deflected easily, even with half a dozen broken ribs. Beyond that the day was pretty miserable. Clay was discharged which left Sonny bereft and lonely. His fever continued its up and down game, making him feel achey and ill and meant nurses were constantly in and out of the room.

He declined any and all sedatives they’d tried to force on him because he hated the way they muddled his brain, but it meant sleep was nearly impossible. He couldn’t get comfortable and every time he coughed it felt like his ribs were about to crack apart. It wasn’t a huge surprise therefore that Trent made an appearance in the evening. The look on his face said he was not here to say hello and keep Sonny company. “Hey there buddy,” Sonny wheezed.

“Don’t you even start with me.” Trent pointed a finger at him. “You’re being an asshole.”

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your sick friend.” The long sentence cost him, making him cough weakly as his chest tightened.

“Yeah well I come in to check on you and find out you’re intent on undoing all the good work we did getting you out of that hellhole, I’m going to be a little pissed off.” Trent glared at him. “Why are you being such a problem?”

“I’m not being a problem,” Sonny said between labored breaths. 

“You’re not taking your medicine.”

“It’s just a sedative.”

“To help you rest and get better. That’s how a body heals dumbass.”

“I don’t need to rest. I’m fine.”

“Sonny, I will tie you down to this bed and sedate you myself if you don’t knock it off. You want them to intubate you again? Because that’s what’s going to happen. Your lungs can’t take much more of this. They need to start healing and for that to work you need to rest.”

There was a bite to Trent’s tone and while he wasn’t yet punctuating every sentence with a swear word, Sonny could sense he was close to it.

He did feel like shit. Maybe a little sleep wasn’t such a bad idea. At the very least it would end this argument. He nodded and Trent immediately pressed the call button. A nurse arrived within minutes and Trent exchanged a few sentences with her before she adjusted the IV’s. Sonny felt his body start to relax and his head go floaty. 

Trent dropped into the chair by his bed. “You staying?” Sonny asked.

“Gotta make sure all my hard work doesn’t go to waste.” Trent kicked his feet up on the bed. “Get some sleep.”

He had to admit, when he woke up he felt better. It was late again and the oxygen had been removed, which he hoped meant things were looking up. He was less achey and his head felt more clear. And breathing wasn’t quite as painful as before. He glanced to his left expecting to find Trent or one of the other guys, but was met with a different face. “How do you keep getting in here after hours?” 

Lisa smiled and leaned forward in the chair, setting aside the book she’d been reading. “Charm. Looks. My officer’s badge doesn’t hurt either.” She studied him for a second. “You look better.”

“Yeah I feel a little better.” He shifted a bit, pressing the button on the bed that let him sit up higher. “Where’d Trent go?”

“Told him to head home for the night. Said I’d make sure you didn’t punch any more doctors or make any more nurses cry.”

“I didn’t make anybody cry. And I was basically unconscious when I hit that guy.”

“Apparently you still packed quite a punch.”

He cracked a smile. “Gotta keep my reputation. Wouldn’t want anyone to think I was a sissy.”

“Is that why you were refusing medication earlier?”

“I took the medicine!” Sonny grumbled in outrage. “I’ve been good!”

She snorted. “Only because Trent threatened you.”

“I still did it,” he said. “Why are you here again? Don’t you have better things to do than play doctor?”

“Thank you for assuming I’d be a doctor, not a nurse, and no. I don’t.” 

She smiled at him and he felt something twist in his gut. He’d missed this so much; having her close, talking to her, just being together.

She sat forward, elbows on her knees. “You know you and Clay, you really scared us.”

“I hear I owe you a thank you. Seems like you were the one that put the pieces together. You want to tell me how exactly you managed that?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m saying thank you! I’m being nice!”

“You’re trying to keep me from lecturing you on running an op when you’re not at one hundred percent.”

“I am always at one hundred percent!”

“Sonny don’t!”

The outburst startled him. “Just don’t,” she said, a little quieter this time. “Don’t pretend like this wasn’t a big deal. This was a very big, very bad deal.”

There were tears sparkling in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well you did. You did, Sonny and I—“ Lisa shook her head. “I’m not ready to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“But I almost did. And I hate that. I hate that I’ve been pushing you away. And that you could have died before I—before we—“ She took a breath. “I didn’t want you to die thinking that we weren’t okay. Because we are. You and me. We’re okay.”

“I know.” He nodded. “I would have known. You don’t have to—“

“Could you please shut up and just let me say this?” she interrupted him, pausing to see if he would let her continue. “I was so fucking scared Sonny and I promised myself that if we—if I got you back that I would make sure you knew—” she hesitated and smiled ruefully, “God this all sounded so much better in my head.”

“Hey.” He touched her arm. “It’s okay.”

She stared at him for a second and then, without warning, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Hard. “Do not ever get kidnapped and almost die again,” she said when she finally pulled away.

Before he could formulate any kind of response she was gone. He was alone again, heart thundering inside his chest. Damn. That hadn’t gone the way he’d expected. Not even a little bit.

[dinfeanoriel]

Hollow Point

I promise I’m still alive. This is a little something to make up for not posting in a while! Linked Universe belongs to Linked Universe and Jojo56830! 

~~~~~~~

“You can’t be serious...” 

Time folded his arms, peering down at their youngest member with his single good eye. 

“As serious as can be, Wind.” Was all their leader said. Wind furiously shook his head. 

“I am not going in there.” He refused, stubbornly putting his foot down and crossing his own arms petulantly. 

Warrior hid a smirk behind his gloved hand. Legend was biting on his lower lip to keep from smiling but Sky had no such qualms. Twilight had an eyebrow quirked, directing a faintly amused smile towards Time. 

“I don’t understand what the big deal is, Wind,” Four spoke up, tapping his finger on the handle of his sword as he tried to reason with his friend, “We’ll only be here for a single night-” 

Wind cut him off, flailing his arms wildly in the air,

“Have you looked around you?!” He incredulously demanded to know, gesturing emphatically to their surroundings, “We’re in a creepy town called Hollow Point and you guys want to stay at an inn called Road’s End?” He shook his head stubbornly, “Nuh-uh! No way am I going to step foot in there!” 

Legend rolled his eyes at the young sailor, ticking off on his hand, “You’ve faced moblins, redeads, phantoms, Ganondorf, and various other creepy enemies but you won’t stay the night at an inn because it’s name is Road’s End and the town’s called Hollow Point?” He quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed. Wind nodded seriously. 

“That about sums it up.”

Legend could have face-palmed. 

“You won’t be alone, Wind,” Twilight tried, ”We’ll all be there too.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” 

Time released a quiet sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of a way to coax Wind into going inside the inn. It was hard enough dragging him into the town itself- which Time had to admit was somewhat eerie in appearance- but now, Wind utterly refused to move. 

The buildings were a little worn for wear. The paint was fading on almost every single one of them and the wood rotting. A couple had signs hanging loosely from a single cord and others had their propped against the base or planted in the ground. 

An ominous atmosphere did hang thickly o’er it, and Time wouldn’t be surprised if they found a couple of Poes lurking about. 

The golden-armored Hero dropped his hand and tried to reason with Wind, “It is only an inn, Wind-” 

“Only an inn, he says...” Wind started to mumble under his breath. He shot Time a rebellious look when the eldest of the Links coolly raised an eyebrow at him. It didn’t faze Wind. Instead, the blue-clad Hero pointed towards the spooky, wooden inn and declared fervently, “I am not going in there.” 

Time’s good eye slid shut then cracked open and slid towards Twilight. Twilight understood what Time was communicating to him and Wind found he didn’t like that look. 

“Listen, Wind,” Sky piped up, “You know the saying ‘You can’t judge a book by it’s cover,’ right? It applies to this town and the inn too. We don’t know anything about this place.” 

“Still not going.” 

Sky could only shrug to Hyrule. He’d given it a shot. 

“Twilight.” Came Time’s voice and before Wind knew it, he was suddenly being hefted into the air and thrown over Twilight’s shoulder. 

“Hey!” Wind indignantly shouted, fighting to escape the Ordonian’s hold but failing miserably, “Put me down!” 

“You had your chance, Wind,” Warrior told him, following after Time and Twilight as they made their way towards the inn, “But if you aren’t going to go willingly, then we’re going to have to make you.” 

Wind glowered when Warrior ruffled his hair playfully and Legend found himself to be rather impressed by the look. The sailor was normally so upbeat, cheerful, and bright but since they had entered the dreary woods and stumbled across the town, he’d grown a tad bit irritable and uneasy. The uncharacteristic behavior had not gone unnoticed by the group. They’d picked up on it almost instantaneously. 

The young Hero hung limply over Twilight’s shoulder, arms dangling as he inwardly griped to himself about the unfairness of it all. A door creaked as Time opened it and stepped inside, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the frame. Twilight was second with the other Heroes filing after them. 

Wind shuddered from the chill that greeted them. The air was thick with foreboding. Didn’t anyone else feel it?! 

The Inn was practically empty save for the elderly man sitting behind the clerk desk and a dark-haired woman clearing off tables in the room nearby. This did not strike any of them as odd seeing as it was pretty late. Time estimated it was nearing midnight, maybe even a few minutes past. 

The man behind the desk glanced up at them and Twilight couldn’t help but note the paleness of his skin and his disheveled, grey, hair. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were quite noticeable and a bit of an unnerving sight. His eyes were an incredible shade of bright, piercing, blue.  

It was a good thing Wind couldn’t see him otherwise Twilight was sure he would try to book it. 

“What rooms do you have available?” Time asked the man when the clerk inquired as to what he could do for them. The man’s eyes slowly drifted from Time to the other Heroes, landing on the sullen Wind still draped unceremoniously over Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight purposefully ignored his unsettling and all-seeing gaze. 

His wolf senses began to tingle and he subconsciously tightened his hold on Wind. 

He took a discreet look around, trying to seem uninterested, but now Twilight was alerted to the fact that something here was off. 

If his inner beast was stirring restlessly...

He’d speak to Time later. For now, he would keep a close eye on Wind. Perhaps the Sailor sensed or knew something they didn’t. 

The clerk glanced down at the sheet in front of him and listed off in a raspy voice, “We have one room with three beds, a couple of doubles, and a few singles.” 

“We’ll take the one with three beds and three doubles if you please.” Time listed, paying the amount the man said it would cost. Never did the Links take single rooms. It was a precaution they now underwent after their first almost disastrous experience. Although they knew the Links could undoubtedly handle themselves, there was safety in numbers. 

The buddy system was not to be undermined. 

Once done, the Links ascended the creaking and crooked stairs hidden around the corner and to the second floor where there rooms were located. Four proceeded with caution, testing each step first before placing his whole weight on the planks. 

He didn’t like how weak these stairs looked. Every time he would move, he felt the stairs would give way under him. 

Legend whistled lowly to himself as he raked his eyes across the entire expanse of the inn. 

“This place must be very old.” He murmured, experimentally tapping a couple knuckles against the wall. He blinked when the wood crumbled and fell, leaving behind a hole. “Oh.” 

Whoops. 

“Legend!” Hyrule hissed, staring incredulously at the Hero. “Those rooms cost enough! We don’t need damage fees added to price!” 

Legend cast his arms to the side, retorting defensively, “How was I supposed to know that the wood would fall apart if I just tapped it?” 

A fist knocked against Legend’s head before Hyrule could reply and the irked Hero looked to find it was Sky wearing a disapproving frown. 

“Use your head next time.” 

We are guests here. 

Legend scowled, rubbing his head, “That’s funny coming from you,” He grumbled, ambling after Hyrule and Sky as they hastened to catch up with the others, “Your head’s always in the clouds.” 

“I did come from above them, Legend.” 

The barbed words Legend had lingering on the tip of his tongue, ready to fly, withered and died as he paused and took a moment to process Sky’s words. The kind Hero, always so soft-spoken and gentle, was actually capable of sassing him? 

Hyrule was snickering and congratulating Sky in succeeding in rendering Legend momentarily speechless. 

Slowly, a wicked smile grew on Legend’s lips and his eyes gleamed.

“Never knew you had it in you, Sky.” 

Sky glanced back at him and shuddered in foreboding. He was now fearful for his life. That look did not bode well for him. 

“What have I done?” He couldn’t help but wonder, hurrying ahead.   

Legend only cackled. 

It appeared there was more to Sky than met the eye. 

“Alright,” Time addressed the group as they came together at the end of the hall. Sky, Hyrule, and Legend quickly caught up to them in time to hear him say, “We have rooms 31, 33, 37, and 39. 33 is the room with three beds and the rest are doubles.” 

Wind fell into himself. Did their rooms have to be odd numbers? 33 was a bad one too. Growing up on Outset Island, 33 was known to be a cursed number. It was worse because it was a double 3. 3, he remembered people constantly telling him, was a terrible number. Wind knew it was nothing more than superstition and was never told of its origin, but it appeared it’d affected him more than he’d realized. 

Then again, children were very impressionable creatures. They listened and devoured everything they were taught or overheard. 

“Warrior and I will take 37,” Sky said, taking the key from Time. 

“Four, Wind, and I can take 33.” Hyrule suggested, also accepting a key from Time. 

Dread pooled in the pit of Wind’s stomach. Of course. 

Of course he, Four, and Hyrule would take room 33. He cursed his nonexistent luck. The one room he did not want, is the one room he unfortunately gets assigned, courtesy of Hyrule. 

He slumped in defeat. 

“Wild and I can take 31.” Legend added, raising a hand. 

“Then that leaves us with 39.” Time snatched his key in his hand and turned to retire, “I expect you boys to be up and ready by 7:30 tomorrow. No later or no breakfast.” 

“Sure thing, Pops,” Warrior replied with a roll of his eyes and a sly grin. With a quick, two-fingered salute, the Knight had already unlocked his and Sky’s room and ducked inside. 

He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he was exhausted! A good night’s rest and an actual bed was something he greatly looked forward to. He was sure everyone else felt the same. 

Twilight followed Hyrule and Four to deposit the sulking Wind into the room before he could attempt an escape. 

The blue-clad Hero was eerily silent and didn’t move as he was set in the middle bed. Twilight stifled a sigh and gripped the younger teen’s shoulder, 

“You can always call for Wolfie if you have difficulty sleeping,” He whispered to him. Wind said nothing, slipping from Twilight’s grip and turning onto his side on the bed so his back faced the Heroes. 

Twilight’s brow creased and when he looked to Four and Hyrule, he received two shrugs. They were just as confused as he was by the odd behavior Wind was displaying. 

Twilight gave Wind one last pat before leaving the room. Four and Hyrule spared Wind another look before unloading their weapons and packs, setting them carefully on the floor against the wall. Wind never moved an inch.  

After a long moment of silence and Wind lying stock, Hyrule shifted. It was abnormal not to hear the Sailor’s bright and bubbly voice weaving pirate tales or fascinating stories of the ocean to fill the quiet atmosphere. They were always complete with enthusiastic gestures that reminded them of just how young Wind was. Of how innocent and pure he still remained despite the adventure he’d been whisked on. 

Finally, he could take it no more. It felt wrong for Wind to be sullen and quiet. Hyrule didn’t like it. 

“Hey, Wind?” 

The younger of the three didn’t reply and made no indication of having heard him. 

“Why are you so against being here?” Hyrule asked, undeterred by Wind’s silence. 

Wind rolled onto his back and sat up with a dark frown, “Because it feels wrong.”

After he’d spoken, Wind hugged himself and looked around uneasily. He’d felt this way once before. The atmosphere...the air around him...the feel of it was familiar. He’d felt it before. 

But when? He couldn’t recall. 

Four and Hyrule glanced to one another then the young Hero.  “Wrong?” Four parroted, inclining his head, “How so?” 

Wind pursed his lips together, eyes burning holes into his covers, 

“Something’s off about this place. I feel it.” He shuddered, gaze darting to the window then the door. “Something isn’t right.” 

Four and Hyrule could only shrug. They didn’t feel anything was amiss, but they could tell Wind was definitely uncomfortable and antsy. 

“Well, I say we at least try to get some shut eye tonight,” Four suggested, climbing into his own bed while Hyrule vanquished the lamp light, “That-a-way, if anything does happen, we’ll be rested and fit to face whatever it is.” 

Hyrule hummed tiredly in agreement and curled up in his bed, relishing in the warmth and comfort his blankets provided. He burrowed deeper so only his tousled hair was visible. Four settled on his back, folding his hands on his chest and allowed his eyes to drift shut. 

Creaks and groans were heard momentarily as the Heroes shifted to make themselves comfortable. 

It wasn’t long until both were dead to the world. 

Wind took longer to try and fall asleep. The ominous and apprehensive feeling was only growing. His stomach churned, his heart thumping until the anxiousness he felt grew suffocating. 

He tossed and turned, striving to ignore it, but he’d learned from previous experiences never to doubt his instincts. After failing to succumb to sleep for a couple of hours, Wind sat up with an explosive sigh. 

Neither Four nor Hyrule stirred. 

The Hero slumped his shoulders. He wouldn’t be able to get any rest this night. He already knew it was a hopeless endeavor. Twisting in his bed, Wind sat up and slipped from the covers, his still-booted feet falling flat against the cold wooden floor as he stood. 

He quietly drifted across the room, soft leather quietly tapping against the ground, and noiselessly opened the door. He slipped into the dreary corridor without a sound, checking briefly to ensure he hadn’t woken the Heroes within. 

He hadn’t. 

Satisfied, he closed the door behind him, slowly turning the knob in order not to disturb Four and Hyrule. 

With another sigh, Wind spun on his heel and warily ambled down the hallway. It was dark and grey, the Hero found. The lamps lining the walls had long been extinguished. 

Wind found this incredibly unnerving. His senses screamed for him to leave. To get out of this inn and never return. 

But he couldn’t without the others. 

He turned a corner, giving a sharp gasp of fright when a shadow suddenly detached itself from the wall next to him. 

A very familiarly shaped shadow. 

A hand clutching at his frantically beating heart, Wind bent over, one hand on his knees as he tried to calm his breathing. 

“Wolfie!” He whispered in relief. “Don’t do that! You scared the living daylights out of me!” He lightly scolded. Wolfie nudged Wind’s cheek with his nose. 

An apology. 

Wind weakly grinned, patting Wolfie’s strong shoulder. 

“How did you even get in here?” He wondered aloud, but since Wolfie couldn’t answer him, Wind shrugged, “Guess it doesn’t really matter. I take it you can’t sleep either? Neither can I.” He pursed his lips and started cautiously walking down the corridor again. He kept a very sharp lookout. One never knew what dangers lingered around every corner or hidden in the shadows, “This place gives me the creeps,” He admitted to his animal friend, “Everyone keeps telling me it’s going to be fine and that it’s only for one night...but, Wolfie, something about this place is wrong.” He stressed the word, turning his head to meet Wolfie’s blue eyes. “Can’t you feel it?” 

Wolfie only stared back, intelligent blues boring into his own, searching.  

“Of course...” Wind grumbled, hugging himself. “It’s just me, then.” He sighed in frustration, raking a hand through his sun-bleached hair. “You know what bugs me?” He rhetorically asked aloud, Wolfie falling into step beside him. The great beast’s strong and soothing presence comforted Wind. He felt safer. Protected. Wolfie wouldn’t allow anything to happen. “I’ve felt this way before. Not,” 

He made a face, trying to think of how he wanted to explain himself to his animal friend, 

“Not scared or nervous or anything...just...I have this feeling deep inside. A sense of wrongness. Kind of...a warped reality? No...I’ve felt it once, but I can’t remember when.” He made an aggravated sound. “This is hopeless. I know I should recognize- ow!” 

Wolfie cringed when the young Hero turned and crashed into a mirror on the wall. He made a soft rumbling sound as Wind staggered back and rubbed at his smarting nose. The beast trotted to his side, nudging him with his head concernedly. 

Wind glowered fiercely at the mirror, momentarily ignoring his animal friend.

“How did I manage that?!” He demanded to know, grimacing in pain. His voice was horribly muffled by his hand and the Sailor almost groaned when something wet touched his fingers. 

He’d gotten a nosebleed. 

How fabulous. 

“Ooh, that hurt...” He groaned, hearing Wolfie whine in concern and gently paw at him. 

He scowled darkly and made to turn away to stalk down the hall when he was stopped by something grabbing the back of his tunic. 

He glimpsed past his shoulder to find Wolfie had gripped the end of his tunic with his teeth. 

“What are you doing?” Wind tried to tug his tunic free, but Wolfie wouldn’t let him go. “You’re going to ruin my tunic.” Wind tried, but the wolf refused to release him. Wind’s expression flat-lined. “Seriously, Wolfie? Let my tunic go.” 

A low growl rumbled from the wolf’s throat. 

Wind narrowed his eyes. “Let it go, Wolfie.” 

Another growl. 

“Wolfie!” 

Wind was about to give up when he glanced forward and jumped slightly upon seeing his reflection. “Are you serious?” Wind muttered, his heart thundering in his chest, “I knew the mirror was there and my reflection still got me!” He griped to himself, then froze. He thought back upon what he’d seen. 

His mind backtracked, processed the image, then rewinded again to reprocess it. 

It was his reflection, yes...

But...

Wind looked back up and stared. 

“Wolfie...” 

The wolf let go of his tunic, sidling up to him upon hearing the sudden change in Wind’s tone. He raised his head to find Wind’s spooked gaze fixated on the mirror. 

“Do you see that?!” Wind asked, pointing to the mirror. Wolfie looked, confused when he saw nothing wrong. Only Wind’s reflection. Blue tunic with a white lobster design, belt, pants... Sunny blonde hair, expressive eyes...

Wind turned to give Wolfie a troubled look then back to the mirror with wide eyes, “Wolfie, my reflection!” 

The wolf was utterly baffled. What was wrong with his reflection? He looked to see Wind pointing at his reflection and his reflection doing the same-

Wait a minute...

“Wolfie,” Wind moved closer to the great beast, hands digging into his thick fur as he grew more alarmed, 

“My reflection’s backwards!” 

~~~~~~~

I am SO sorry about the late update! Wi-Fi where I’m at has been down for quite a few days this month and the only way I could post was if I went somewhere with free Wi-Fi available.  But here, have a Wind-centric fic! Little sailor boy needs some love! 

[princess-julianna]

Flashback RP

Keith would just shrug and jokingly be like “yeah she beats me up all the time too...but really, what happened to ya?” "She really beat me. She tried to /kill/ me, I think." *raises eyebrows* “we’re talkin’ ‘bout the girl that puts bugs outside because she don’t have the heart ta squish ‘em.” "She does that- yeah. Her. My height, blonde. Yeah. Jay and I were out in the yard and she came tearing at me." “...I still ain’t sure we’re talkin’ bout the same Peach here. I left a damn lobster on her bed once and she was in tears fer /hours/.....what were ya doin’ that made ‘er so mad?” He thought hard for a moment before throwing his hands up. “Ya got me beat, man. Yer gonna hafta call in a Peach expert fer that one.” "Where's one of those." “Well if El ain’t hear ya’ll fightin’ he’s prolly not around. Ya can try tha shop, or ask yer girl ta call her sister.” He offered with a shrug. Bigby wiped some of the trailing blood off of his face, swaying his feet a bit in thought. "He have a phone I can contact him?" “Hell, use mine. You tell ‘im somethin’ happened with ‘is Peach an’ he’ll fly over here in a hot minute,” he mused, pulling out his phone and handing it to the shorter man as he plopped down next to him. "Thanks." The wolf quickly tapped out a message to Ellis To: El From: Keith Hey, this is Bigby, mind telling my why your girlfriend would attack me? "And sent." Jayne sat Jules down gently on her bed. "You okay?" Keith sat back, folding his hands behind his head and looking up at the sky. “And now we wait.” Julie didn’t respond, hugging herself and staring into space. To: My Buddy From: Ellis What do ya mean? What were you doin? "Do you know what just happened?" Keith took the phone back this time, composing his own message. To: El Yer wife is on a killin spree apparently and Jay stopped her “...H-He was gonna hurt you, I couldn’t let him.” She finally looked at the redhead. “It was him again.” To: My Buddy Wait, hold on. You mean /my/ Peach was on a killing spree. Jayne's hard eyes softened as she gently put her hands on the blonde's shoulders. "Oh, Peach..." she looked down a moment. "It wasn't him, it wasn't. Out in the yard just now, that was Bigby." To: El That’s what *I* said. I told him bout the lobster story and everything and he still says she was the one comin after him. I’m thinkin you wanna be a part of this Julie flinched slightly, recoiling. “No, I /saw/ him. He came after you just like he did last time, and last time I couldn’t do anything,” she spoke quickly, shaking her head. “It was /him/.” To: My Buddy Are you okay with me leavin the shop? I can be back there. Jay pulled back, opting to crouch in front of her. "No, honey. That monster is gone. Who you saw was Bigs, he's kinda like me. He wasn't gonna hurt me, though I appreciate knowing you'll have my back." “You ain’t dead yet, are ya?” Keith asked nonchalantly, glancing at the man beside him. To: El I don’t think he’s dead yet, but yeah. Don’t want ya to be disappointed when ya get here She looked away again, running a rough, shaky hand through her hair. “He’s g-gone,” she reaffirmed to herself, leaning forward to hold her head in her hands. “And I hurt Bigby.” "Hmm?" Caramel eyes wondered lazily over to the redhead. "Don't think I've bled out yet." He mumbled, losing him in thought. To: My Buddy Disappointed? What about? I'll leave Dave in charge. Jay relaxed a bit in front of her. "Don't worry, he'll be okay, he's a Fable. I'll take care of him soon enough. But I wanna make sure /you're/ okay." Keith nodded with a small hum of acknowledgement. To El: Well I told ya that she’s been killin people but she only tried to kill one guy and he ain’t really dead...Nevermind, it don’t matter. That’s fine “Go help him.” Julie looked at the redhead again, nodding anxiously. “G-Go, I hurt him. He needs help,” she murmured, eyes ready to spill over with tears. To: My Buddy I'll be there in bout ten minutes "He's okay, he's not the one on the verge of tears." She sighed "I should have warned you, but it slipped my mind..." “Can you stay alive fer bout ten minutes?” Keith inquired in a casual tone. “I mean, if yer gonna die he might be expectin’ it, but you should hang on ta tell ‘im about what happened.” She wiped her eyes with the inside of her wrist. “I don’t think it would have prepared me,” she murmured, sniffling lightly. “It’s not /your/ fault,” she added, leaning forward and looking down with a shaky sigh of her own. Bigby sent Keith a deadpan expression, leaning against the bed wall with a grunt toward his ribs. "It'd be a damn shame." "Maybe not, but I should have told you my boyfriend was a big brown wolf." She murmured. Keith glanced the smaller man over. “You alright?” He asked more seriously this time. “She really did a number on you...” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe we oughta git you some ice or somethin’?” He offered. “He needs your help. You need to go help him.” She responded, avoiding the redhead’s statement. “Tell him-“ she paused, thinking. “-t-tell him-“ she stopped again, biting her lip and holding her head again as tears leaked from her eyes. “I don’t know what to tell him,” she cried quietly hugging her knees to her chest. "Hunky dory." He huffed, pulling out his Huff&Puffs, stamping the carton on the heel of his palm and grasping the one that popped out between his teeth. He struggled for a moment to grab his lighter, and took in a deep breath. "I've had worse." He mumbled "at least she didn't use silver." "You could just tell him the truth, he's actually pretty understanding." She offered. "How else do you think he could handle me?" She tried to lighten the mood. Keith smirked lightly at his response. “Aw, hell....don’ tell me yer a stick up prick like Nick who don’t deal in nothin’ but gold,” he mused jokingly. “So I guess that’s a real thing, huh? Think it’s the same fer Jay too, if she were ta git hit with one?” He asked curiously. “Now?” She questioned. “I can’t, Jay...” she murmured, wiping her eyes again. “He probably thinks I’m nuts and he’s probably pissed off...” She paused, glancing to the window. “I was so excited that you found someone who you really connect with, and I really wanted him to feel welcomed here...so much for that.” "Not unless she's infected with lycanthropy as well." He responded, blowing a cloud. Of smoke the other way. "Sounds like Ellis is here." He murmured. "Not now, but at another time." She waved off her concerns "he's perpetually like that, it's just his face." A soft smile came to her face. "If a fight scares him off, then I don't think he deserves the title 'The Big Bad Wolf'." "Not unless she's infected with lycanthropy as well." He responded, blowing a cloud. Of smoke the other way. "Sounds like Ellis is here." He murmured. "Not now, but at another time." She waved off her concerns "he's perpetually like that, it's just his face." A soft smile came to her face. "If a fight scares him off, then I don't think he deserves the title 'The Big Bad Wolf'." “Nah, see, I used ta think she was inta girls too, on accounta tha fact that she used to talk about bangin’ Jules all the time-“ He paused at Bigby’s statement, looking up. “Huh?” She listened, smiling lightly at the redhead’s responses with a nod and relaxing slightly. “I just...I need a couple of minutes,” she murmured, taking a deep breath. "What-no, that's not what that means." He sighed, shaking his head. "I can head his truck." He stated plainly. Jayne stood up. "I'm gonna check on him. If yer okay." Keith let out a low whistle. “Man, it must be cool ta have goodass hearing like that,” he mused, looking up with a wave as his buddy’s truck approached. Julie nodded, taking another breath. “Just, let him know...” she trailed off, looking up at the redhead with pleading eyes. "If I weren't smoking I could probably tell you everything in it as well." He smirked lightly, snubbing out the cigarette on Jay's tailgate as Ellis pulled up. "I will, hun." Jayne kissed her forehead before going to get the medical kit. “Hey, so, what do dragons smell like? Like, without all the garage grease or farm stank an’ shit?” He teased somewhat loudly, shooting a sly grin towards his best friend. The blonde smiled again, watching the redhead. After a moment she laid on her side, staring into space again. Bigby tilted his head back, sniffing the air as Ellis got out of the truck. "Mildly of sulfur, something sweet, probably the soap of his wife's he used,-" he paused "pine, and clean cotton are pretty present, but campfire too." He added in thought. "Ya can tell I used her soap this morning?" Jayne peeked in on her one last time. "Chin up, hun." She murmured, heading outside to Bigby. Keith laughed, lightly smacking Bigby’s arm (forgetting about his condition). “Maaaaan, he /nailed/ you brother!” He looked over as Jay came outside. “Hey Sis, ya gotta come listen ta yer boyfriend describe El,” he chuckled out. Julie hummed in response with a small smile, curling up and taking a breath before zoning out again. The smaller male hissed, yanking back as a dangerous amber flashed in his eyes. "Hey, bro, you gotta stop hittin' my boyfriend right now." She huffed, moving the taller's legs. "Hey, Ellis." She murmured. "You oughtta go talk to Jules, she's pretty shook up." Ellis nodded, waving as he headed to the house. Jayne set up the kit, rustling through it. "C'mere Bigs." She murmured, encouraging him to scoot to the end of the tailgate again. “Whoops...” Keith smiled sheepishly, moving out of the way. “He gonna live, Doc?” He mused, crossing his arms. “....Y’all still never told me what ya did ta make Peach so upset.” The blonde flinched slightly when she heard the new noise out of the silence, sitting up with a start and staring towards the door. She gripped the comforter, knitting her eyebrows slightly as faint silhouettes of markings began to appear on her skin. Jayne elected to ignore Keith for the moment. "She didn't mean to hurt you." She murmured, working the buttons of his shirt. Bigby cocked a brow at her, slowly pulling off his tie. "What does that mean." He inquired gently. "It means it was an accident." She stated "it ain't really my place ta tell the whole story." She spoke, pushing his shirt off and setting to work with the bottle of alcohol. She finally answered Keith. "Bigby's a big brown wolf." She explained. Ellis looked around. "Peach?" He called out gently, heading towards their room. Keith watched her, listening to her explanation to Bigby. He smacked himself lightly in realization after a moment. “Oh, shit...I guess that /does/ explain a lot,” he murmured in a surprisingly serious tone. She relaxed somewhat at his voice, but still let out a shaky half-sob as she laid back down. “Muffins...” she mumbled, knowing he’d hear her anyway. Keith watched her, listening to her explanation to Bigby. He smacked himself lightly in realization after a moment. “Oh, shit...I guess that /does/ explain a lot,” he murmured in a surprisingly serious tone. She relaxed somewhat at his voice, but still let out a shaky half-sob as she laid back down. “Muffins...” she mumbled, knowing he’d hear her anyway. “...On the flip side, y’all could best friends as long as ya don’t turn into a big brown wolf in front o’ her again,” he offered with a chipper smile. “Maaaan, those’re gonna be some good ones.” He leaned forward, looking over Bigby’s wounds. She curled up tighter and covered her face with her arms, biting her lip to stop herself from crying. “Is Bigby okay? Is Jayne with him?” She asked avoidingly. The smaller looked over at Keith again a 'really?' Look on his face. "It's not like I couldn't handle it, but it shocked the shit outta me." He admitted, tensing as his girlfriend applied some butterfly stitches to the cut across his cheek. "I /don't hate/ her. If she has a reason, she does, I guess..." he looked down. "Quit yer movin'." Jay scolded. "Fine, sorry." He returned to his previous position "I just hate to scare her." "He's alright, he's a bit scraped up, but he'll be right as rain in no time." He replied softly "yeah, Miss Jay is helpin' out." Ellis smoothed a gentle hand across her back. “Well, yeah...like I said, Peach ain’t exactly the heavyweight champ...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Only thing I ever think she gets upset about is when someone messes with one o’ us.” He glanced to Jay, unsure if he should say more. She flinched slightly when he touched her, but settled again right after. “I hurt him, El....I hurt him because I didn’t want him to hurt /her/...” She sniffled a little, wiping her eyes. "I don't want her to think I'm some monster. .." he mumbled, shifting for Jay to dress his other wounds. Jayne locked eyes with Keith for a moment. "It's alright, Peach." The dragon murmured softly "he's okay, and so is she..." “It ain’t /you/ though, man...I think she thought-“ He paused, bracing himself just in case. “-you were someone else,” he finally spoke. “She ain’t one ta judge. It was prolly just a panic.” “I couldn’t stop myself,” she murmured through tears. “He turns into a big brown wolf...just like-“ She stopped, sitting up so she could properly wipe her face. “I wanted to kill him. I was /going to/ kill him,” she cried, holding her head. The auburn haired man sighed. "That's better than it being /me./" he mused. Jayne finished placing the last bit of gauze, and grabbed a wet wipe to clean off the blood from his face. "Jules is tha most accepting of all of us, honestly." She offered "She just didn't know." "But you didn't. Yer both okay, you can explain it whenever you're ready." He said softly "but he'll want to know that it wasn't /him/." “Yeah, I’m sure she loves ya!” Keith added. “...Jus’ maybe don’t turn into a giant wolf ‘round her fer a lil’ while,” he added with a sheepish laugh. The blonde sighed, pushing her hair back and taking a deep, shaky breath. “Lord knows how I’m going to do that,” she mumbled. “How do you apologize to someone for /intentionally/ trying to kill them?...I really wanted him to feel welcomed here....” Bigby's eyes slid over to Keith, frowning. "It's not like it was planned." He grumbled. "I bet has been, I mean, Hell, even Nick seems ta git along with him. If you told him /why/, I'm more than confident he'll understand." Ellis gently rubbed her back "do you want me to tell 'im?" “Then what happened? Were y’all /actually/ fightin’?” The tall redhead cocked a brow. “Because that’s /definitely/ gonna make Jules hop in and defend one o’ her girls.” “I do but I don’t...” She covered her face, leaning against her husband. “/I/ need to explain it...I need to talk to him alone. I just don’t know how.” "Nah... I mean, I jumped on him, it threw us in the yard though." Jayne murmured, packing up since she was satisfied with her work. "We /were/ transformed, though." Bigby offered. "Do-do ya want me to send him in here?" Ellis asked softly. "I can if ya want, but don't rush yerself." “Well then that’s just it then, she saw ya’ll havin’ yer lil scuffle, an’ probably panicked since it looked like when ya’ll were attacked by that other dude, right?” He asked obliviously, proud of himself for figuring out his logic. “...If he’s up to it.” The blonde finally looked up at Ellis. “If he doesn’t want to talk to me...I understand,” she murmured sadly. The smaller man glanced at him in confusion as he tugged his shirt back on, setting to work on the buttons. "Wait, you guys were attacked by someone like me?" Ellis kissed her forehead "I'll go git 'im, remember I'm here if ya need anything, hun." He murmured gently “Not /me/...Jus’ tha girls, an’ El, an’....Peach.” He shrank slightly, now realizing how much he’d babbled. “Yeah, it jus’...I heard it wasn’t a fun day,” he spoke in an uncharacteristically serious tone, rubbing the back of his neck and shooting Jay an awkward side glance. “I know...I love you,” she responded, standing. She placed her hands on his shoulders, gently resting her forehead against his and closing her eyes. After a few long moments she pulled away, heading towards the kitchen and trying to start up the coffee maker with still shaky hands. Jayne placed his tie back around his neck and fixed his collar, gently resting her hands against his neck. "It was a hard night for everyone involved." She sighed. Bigby tilted his head slightly as he looked up at her. "You'll need ta ask her for specifics." "I love ya too." Ellis leaned into her as well, cherishing the moment. He followed after her, softly steadying her hands before heading out to the yard Keith glanced between the two unsurely, looking over when he noticed Ellis and standing up. “Everythin’ okay, brother?” She smiled softly, watching him out the door before returning to her task. She put a kettle of water on, reaching into the cabinet for two mugs. She set one mug at one end of the table, staring at it in thought as her fingers curled around the remaining one in her hands. Jayne and Bigby both directed their attention to Ellis upon Keith's announcement. "Yeah, um, she was wonderin' if you'd be willin' ta talk to her, Bigs." He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. The auburn haired male briefly looked up at Jay before nodding. "Yeah... yeah, I'll talk to her." Jay gave a slight nod in approval, moving so he could get down. Keith walked over to Ellis, crossing his arms and watching Bigby. “Well that’s a start I guess...right?” The blonde finally moved to make herself a cup of tea, setting it at the opposite end of the table to steep. She grabbed the ready pot of coffee, walking over to carefully pour it in the other mug she’d pulled out for Bigby. Bigby carefully hopped out of the El Camino. "Where's she at?" He inquired to the taller. "She's in the kitchen, waitin' fer ya." He nodded his thanks and continued to the farmhouse. “...If ya need backup ya know where to find us!” Keith called after him, trying to lighten the mood a little. Julie set the coffee pot down, moving over to sit at her end of the table. She held onto her teacup, staring down at it in anxious thought as she tried to mentally prepare on how to explain herself. He gave a small wave in acknowledgement before he got to the door. "Jules?" He called softly through the screen "is it alright if I come in?" Julie looked up, blinking for a moment. “Y-Yeah, yes. Please....” She called in response, thinking about getting up to greet him but deciding to stay where she was so as to not give any indications of being a threat. "How're ya doing?" He asked somewhat awkwardly after he let himself in. Bigby hazard a glance in her direction with a small smile, not wanting to frighten her. “Better than you, I’m sure,” she murmured guiltily, looking him over before meeting his eyes again. “You don’t have to sit if you don’t want to, but I poured you some coffee...if you want,” she added, sitting up a little straighter. "I'm alright, still kicking." He offered. "Uh, thanks." He nodded, pulling out the chair and grasping the mug, the hot ceramic a welcome feeling She watched him, trying to offer a small smile. “...Jay told me you weren’t always like this,” she began somewhat apprehensively. “I wasn’t either.” He took a sip of his coffee, his lighter suddenly feeling very heavy in his pocket he opted to leave it. "You mean human?" He looked up from his mug "no, I wasn't." “Well, I mean just different from how you used to be....I /was/ human.” She paused, looking at her mug in thought. “...Did they tell you anything?....About me?” She inquired, looking back up at him. "Not much, I know there was apparently an... /incident/, involving a brown wolf?" He relaxed lightly in his chair, dark eyes focused on her. "That and that you set bugs free." He added a bit lightheartedly. A smile finally came to the blonde’s face. “Yeah, that’s who I am normally....I want you to know that,” she responded, the last statement in a more serious tone. “I’m no killer. Even when I help the girls I just don’t have it in me. But what happened outside just now...” She looked up at him with guilty eyes. “I want you to know that it wasn’t because of you....I’m so sorry,” her voice cracked lightly as she spoke. He quickly averted his gaze, unsure how to properly handle other's emotions. "I'm still here, aren't I?" He inquired. "It's alright..." he offered lamely. "I didn't mean to scare you." “At this point I think I’m more scared of /me/...” Her grip on her mug tightened as she stared down at her tea. “If Jay hadn’t jumped back in...I don’t know what I would have done to you...” She wiped teary eyes on her sleeve. “I just panicked. I thought you were going to hurt her like last time.” He stared at her for a moment. "If-if you don't mind me asking, what /did/ happen?" He asked gently. She pushed her hair back, sitting back in her chair and taking a breath. “There was this demon they had been hunting in the area before all this...before Ellis was a dragon, before I had magic...” She stared at the table as she spoke. “He went after them, at first as a big brown wolf...and then he just kept changing. Ellis grabbed his shotgun, and I came out to help too. Obviously I was just useless and got in the way...But because the girls were so dead set on protecting me, this guy decided to /target/ me...” Bigby's eyes widened for a flicker of a second, realization hitting him. "And when you saw me..." he trailed off, understanding why she had had such a violent reaction. "I didn't know." “You shouldn’t have /needed/ to know...It wasn’t your fault. I just had this panic that he was back, and I knew what he was capable of...” She trailed off, wiping her eyes again. “I was stuck in this frenzy where I knew that I couldn’t afford to stand by and be useless again...I couldn’t let him kill again.” The wolf's face softened. "You were only protecting your family..." he looked down. "I know exactly what you mean." He added. "In another time you wouldn't have really been off base to attack me." He avoided looking at her at this. She frowned, looking up at him again. “But this is /now/. I shouldn’t have just /assumed/...It was like my mind snapped and went blank of everything except for that day, and the only thing I could think about was killing you before you killed another person...” She held her head, sniffling a little. “I didn’t even know who you /really/ were, and I was ready to just do it, no hesitation...I’ve never /ever/ felt like that before...It was terrifying.” He frowned, wanting to comfort her but unsure on how to. Bigby offered his hand over the table, not moving too fast, and letting it sit there if she wished to grasp it. "You're not like that from what I've learned. You had a PTSD break it sounds like, and that's not your fault." She looked up when he moved, glancing to his hand before her eyes came to his again. She smiled softly, leaning over to place her hand in his. “Do you think you could give me another chance?” "If you could give me one." He returned gently. "I'll try not to... transform, if I can unnecessarily around you for a while." He added, giving a small squeeze to her hand. “Of course, that’s the least I can do....” She smiles lightly, shaking her head. “Well, now I know...As long as you give me like...a warning, or something. I should be fine,” she assured him, standing up. “...Thank you. So much. I’m glad you don’t hate me.” Bigby followed her lead. "I'll keep that in mind." He chuckled "of all people, what am I to judge you on one action." He replied, a seriousness in his tone. "I don't hate you." He looked over at her "you're a fuck lot stronger than you look though." She laughed a little at that. “I like to think so....I’m glad someone else does. I feel like I’m the meek one of the group.” She walked around to his side. “Everyone is allowed to make mistakes I guess....Do you, uh-...Do you do hugs, or...?” She smiled sheepishly. A playful glint hit his eye. "I'm sure I could make an exception." He offered albeit a bit awkwardly. "I'm glad you wanted to talk." The blonde smiled, carefully wrapping her arms around him, mindful of his injuries. “...I didn’t do /too/ bad to you...did I?” She asked quietly, her frown returning as she looked over the bandages Jay had placed on him. "Don't worry about it, I heal quickly." He offered her a small smile "Perks of being a Fable I guess. give me a day or two, I'll be fine." He scratched his stubble out of habit "just as long as you don't use silver." He semi joked. “I’ll definitely try to avoid that then.” She glanced to the window, sighing. “I really don’t want to make a big scene...Not any bigger than I already have, anyway,” she mumbled, picking up her tea and moving to lean against the counter. “You can go back out if you want...Or you guys can all come in now. I’m done,” she murmured guiltily, sipping her drink and looking down. Bigby decided to pick up his mug, and stand with her. "No sense in wasting a good cup of coffee." He replied, taking a drink. "Everything's alright." “I don’t know if it’s /actually/ any good...I’m not a coffee person. It’s whatever Ellis drinks in the morning.” She smiled sheepishly with a shrug, happy that he decided to stay. She sighed, taking a sip of her tea. “I’m glad /you’re/ alright...I don’t know about everything else.” He chuckled "he's got a good choice." Brown eyes slid over to the blonde beside him. "I'm okay, no worse than what I'd receive from the job in Fabletown." He waved off. “You’re not the only one I’ve done this to.” She shrank a little. “It kind of sucks when your powers are so affected by emotion.” Bigby let out a bark of laughter. "You should see me when other Fables-or Jay for that matter- push my buttons." He grinned "it's all amber eyes, sharp teeth, claws and it looks like I haven't shaved in weeks. Emotion triggered powers, I get." She was quiet for a few moments. “I got frustrated by the way my best friend dealt with her enemies and tried to overthrow her by killing her and both of her sisters,” she stated, staring straight ahead. “That’s how I repaid them for /literally/ bringing me back from the dead.” He watched her for a few moments before looking back into his mug. "I was the runt, so full of spite that when my father, and brothers left and my mother died I vowed to kill something bigger each day." He looked back at her "I /ate/ people." She stared at the floor, listening. After a moment she scooched closer to him, looping her arm under his and taking a sip of her tea wordlessly. He turned his gaze to the floor as well, continuing to drink his coffee, not disturbing the oddly comfortable silence that had settled. “....I think-“ She finally started after a few moments, trying to compose her words. “-that all of this sort of /comes/ with these lifestyles. Like, there’s suddenly this ultimatum of good versus bad, but sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which...and sometimes that decision is made /for/ you...” She murmured, thinking again. “...Ellis has issues with snapping too.” She looked up at him. He considered staying silent for a moment. "I'm not so sure it's 'snapping' more than letting temper and instinct get away..." he mumbled. "I've been trying, /really/ trying these last centuries to atone for what I've done." “I’d say it’s working...How else could I have attacked you so brutally and come away with hardly a scratch?” She looked up at him. “I was about to kill you.” "I couldn't kill you." He replied. "I know who you are, and you gave an indication to being ruthless. There was no explanation, and if I killed you?" He shook his head “And don’t you think the old Bigby might have saved his own butt first and asked questions later?” She looked up at him, a small smile visible in her eyes. He looked back to her and shrugged 'fair enough' written on his features. "You're not wrong, I suppose. " She laughed a little, nodding. “I have to be honest...I really didn’t know what to expect when Jayne first introduced you to us. I don’t know if you’ve realized but she’s a little, uh...unpredictable.” She took another sip of her tea. “But I think you two might ground each other a little.” Bigby snorted into his mug. "That's putting it mildly." He interjected, looking at her as she continued. "I'm not so predictable myself." He crossed one leg "I wasn't sure if you guys were going to be... aware? Of magic, or a bunch of Mundies. If we're being honest." “Luckily for you, you kind of came around at a good time. You missed what was probably the /biggest/ shitshow we’ve gone through....But Ellis and I are getting used to being like this. Well, despite a few hiccups, I guess,” she murmured sheepishly. “Nick isn’t a hundred percent on board with it, but he tolerates it.” "Ellis seems to be as natural as if he were born with it. If I couldn't smell it, I'd think him a Fable." He took another sip of his coffee. "No? He isn't magical from what I can tell. You /voluntarily/ keep a mundy around?" Julie smiled, shaking her head. “I think Ellis actually likes it, being so strong and stuff...He was kind of a protector as it was. This just makes it easier for him.” She laughed sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s not like we could just kick Nick out. If that were the case he and Trinny couldn’t be together....And despite how much of an ass he can be, he’s a part of this family too.” Bigby nodded, listening to her speak. "He takes the roll seriously, at least." His eyes flicked to her "he doesn't seem so bad, Nick I mean." “Yeah, Nick’s okay...I just wish he’d freaking propose already, like god /damnit/,” she huffed, gulping the rest of her tea and setting her mug in the sink. “At this rate Trinny’s probably going to have to do it for it to actually happen. Me and Ellis are gonna have like thirty kids and they’re still going to be /dating/.” She crossed her arms in a joking pout. He chuckled, thumbing his empty mug for a moment before turning to rinse it. "You guys sure do have a nice tight knit family..." he thought for a moment "I almost feel as if I'm intruding on it." He frowned. The blonde’s bright mood suddenly fell, a frown coming to her face. “....If this is because I attacked you-...” She stopped, looking at him seriously now. "No-no! Not at all." He paused, thinking on how to phrase his words. "It's almost like a pack. You all have your positions and places... I just don't quote have mine-yet." His nose crinkled at his own ramblings. "You've all been more accepting than i ever could have imagined." She smiled softly. “I’d say you found them, it’s just a matter of letting yourself in at this point...I’d be honored to have a brother like you.” His eyes locked on her as she spoke, his gaze softening. The auburn haired male shuffled silently, averting his eyes, at a loss of what to say. He opened his mouth for a moment before closing it again. "It'd be an honor to have a sister like you." He murmured almost inaudibly. She played with her fingers anxiously after a moment when he didn’t respond, looking away. Her eyes came back up to him when he finally spoke, a large smile coming to her face as she pulling him into another hug. “You’re stuck now.” Bigs stiffened for a moment, letting a puff of air out of his nose before slowly returning the hug. "Yeah?" He asked softly “I have to ask the boss if we can keep you though,” she mumbled, not letting him go. “BAE!!” She yelled towards the door. "Of course." He sighed, his arms falling to his sides. Jay popped up, turning to the farmhouse before booking it out of the bed of her car. "What!? What's wrong?" “Nothing is wrong, I have a question and I need you to come here!!” She called in response, still clinging to Bigby. “Sorry, just a sec,” she murmured to him in a jokingly formal manner. She skid to a stop in front of the door and pulled it open, immediately stopping to look at the two, her brow quarked. Bigby huffed and threw up his hands. The blonde rested her cheek on Bigby’s shoulder to look at Jay, reaching up behind him to pat his head. “Can we keep him?” She stuck her lip out in a pleading manner, shooting the redhead her best puppy dog eyes. The redhead bit down on her tongue trying not to laugh at the look on both of their faces. "I dunno, a dog is hard work, are you gonna take care of him?" She teased, grin growing at the light glow touching her boyfriend's eyes. “I mean, I take care of /you/...AND Ellis. Don’t you think that’s more than prepared me for this?” She teased, laughing a little herself. Jayne growled lightly at the comment, and Bigby's snicker. "Fine, you gotta clean up after him though The blonde abruptly released him. “Nu-uh. You can have him,” she joked, shooting him a smile. “I just think he’s a keeper.” The flush that ran across her cheeks could challenge the red of her hair. Bigby glanced at Jules before sending Jay a sheepish smile. "Guess you're stuck with me." Julie’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “Did you just-?” She bounced giddily in her spot, glancing to Bigby briefly before walking over to Jayne and placing her hands on the taller woman’s cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush in my /life/,” she whispered quietly. "Shut up!" The taller barked in embarrassment. Bigby cocked a brow, crossing his arms. "Oh, her face flushes a gorgeous shade." He prodded earning a hard glare from the redhead Julie giggled excitedly, squeezing the redhead in a tight hug. “I’m so happy,” she murmured, nuzzling against her. Jayne whined, finally giving in and hugging her back as she glared at her boyfriend while he pulled out a cigarette. She nuzzled close to the blonde. "I am too." “I’m so glad, Bae...you deserve it,” she murmured. She cleared her throat after a moment, coughing lightly and glancing behind herself at Bigby when she realized it was because he was smoking. “I, uh-..I’ll go outside,” she murmured with a sheepish smile to the redhead, hurrying towards the door. "Sorry, sorry, I'll go outside, that was a dick thing to do, I should have asked." Bigby shook his head, gently passing the blonde, holding his breath as to not let out any more smoke. “No, no! You don’t have to, I could just-“ She stuttered out, sighing and turning to Jayne with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry...” Keith slid off of the hood of Jayne’s car when he noticed Bigby coming out. “What’s all the commotion ‘bout?” He called. "Don't be, he might be a chain smoker, but he tries to be consoderate. It just slips his mind sometimes." She waved off her concern. "What commotion?" Bigby inquired with a shrug. "I forgot about the whole smoke thing She smiled again, warmly this time. “He’s really a nice guy,” she murmured, moving to sit back down at the table. “What do you think?” Keith leaned against the passenger door. “Jay shot to the house so damn quick, I thought maybe y’all was fightin’ again or somethin’.” The tall redhead shrugged. The redhead took on almost a Divi-like posture. "I think so too." She murmured, biting back a smile "I do really like him" "Oh, that." He shook his head "Julianna was just being goofy." He smiled Julie giggled lightly, leaning on the table with a bright smile. “So then, in terms of important stuff for /you/-“ She started, shifting in her seat a little and thinking on how to phrase it. “How /is/ he?” She raised her eyebrows, holding one of her cheeks with a half-embarrassed smile. Keith rolled his eyes. “El, yer wife is a permanent emotional rollercoaster,” he teased. “So everythin’ is good right?” He shot a glance toward the house before looking back at Bigby. “No hard feelings or nothin’?” A cheeky smile crossed Jayne's features. "He can be a real /animal/." She joked "it's weird, I used to the usual one-night, hard an' fast ya know?" She squirmed a bit in slight embarrassment "but he does this-this /thing/. I'm not sure what exactly, but he draws it out." Ellis threw his hands up in surrender. "She is perfect. Okay, she might have crazy emotions, but I love her." "Yeah, everything is okay." Bigby responded, flicking ash from his cigarette. Julie laughed a little at her first comment. She knitted her eyebrows together, trying to understand what the redhead was trying to explain. She sat up suddenly after a few moments. “Jay, this is going to sound super cheesy...and I don’t exactly have a lot of experience to tell you much else...but I think what you’re trying to get at is ‘love’.” “One-woman soap opera, I swear,” Keith muttered, shaking his head. “Well I’m glad ya’ll are- what was it? ‘Hunky dory’?” He snickered playfully. “Yer weird as hell man...I like you.” He gave Bigby a playful slap on the back, forgetting his injuries for the umpteenth time. The redhead froze, a deep flush working it's way up her chest and neck. "A-are ya sure?" She inquired so quietly you almost couldn't hear it. She looked down at her hands, suddenly very interested in the dry bit by her pinky nail "Might be, but she's my favorite soap opera." Ellis declared proudly. Bigby let out a growl in response to the slap. "Would you cut that shit out for today, Keith? I'm kinda sore." Julie smiled kindly. “Come here, Jay. I’m sorry,” she murmured, patting the chair next to hers. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...I just figured that’s what you’d be more eager to talk about since that’s all you /ever/ really bring up about /my/ relationship.” Keith flinched and jumped away slightly at the growl, scooting over to stand next to Ellis with a sheepish smile. “I guess that’s why yer such a suck up then, huh El? ‘Cause ya know /that’s/ what’s gonna happen to ya if ya piss Peach off?” He gestured to Bigby. "Oh.. it's not that." She mumbled, moving to take the offered seat. "It's just. /love/?" She mulled over the word. "It's just weird, ya know? Me an' love in the same sentence." She shook her head "sex, that's something entirely else, I can cat about it all ya like." The hard glare the dragon set on Keith could freeze blood. "Don't even joke like that." He rumbled out "she ain't like that normally." Julie laughed at her last comment. “That’s what I mean...I figured that’s what you’d /want/ to talk about.” She cleared her throat, thinking a second, more seriously. “It’s not something you really need to /worry/ about. It’s feels good, right? That’s all that matters.” Keith flinched away from Ellis this time, taking a couple steps backwards with his hands up defensively. “I was jus’ teasin’, man! Promise.” "I s'pose yer right." She smiled. "/buuuuut/ if ya wanna talk sex. Oooh man." A wolfish grin spread her lips. Bigby rolled his eyes, snubbing out his cigarette. "It's a little sensitive to poke at today." The blonde rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “Go for it...It’s the least I can do,” she mused, sitting back to lean on the table and resting her cheek in her hand. Keith rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. “Jus’ tryin’ ta lighten the mood a lil,” he mumbled, looking to the farm house. “She still upset, or...?” "Okay, so, it's fantastic." She chuckled "don't let his height fool ya." She winked. The redhead shifted to face Jules, more comfortable with the topic. Her face softened in thought for a moment. "While we're on the same page sometimes, hard an' fast-good lord' she huffed a grin "but like I said, he takes it slow too-never knew I'd like that." She mused. "No, we're /hunky dory/." He chuckled, pulling himself into the bed of Jay's car again. Ellis hopped onto the side of the car. "So y'all're smoothed over now?" He smiled when the smaller nodded. “Oh, Lord,” she muttered when the redhead started, holding her head in her hand but listening with a light blush across her face. She glanced up at her last statement. “It’s definitely different than what /you’re/ used to I’m sure...but sometimes honestly slow and gentle is a better stress relief than trying to rush through it,” she commented, still half covering her face. “That’s good...I’d hate ta see Jay tryin’ ta choose between ya’ll,” he mused. “She ain’t much of a compromiser.” Jayne contemplated what the blonde had said. "You're not wrong. It's kind of a peaceful feeling afterwards." She mused "oh!" She snapped to attention "cuddles! Cuddles after are the best kind." She said matter-of-factly. There was a moment of tense silence. "I don't think I'd want her ta have ta choose." Ellis voiced. "I mean, she ain't tha type to actually bring someone home-here. Ya know?" Bigby chewed on the thought for a moment, unsure on what to do with that, sure he had an idea about her past... /endeavors/, but was he the first really brought home? “Oh good lord, /yes/ they are,” the blonde replied enthusiastically this time. “It’s just sleepy, and gentle, and ugh,” she trailed off smiling contentedly in thought. “It’s the worst when he has to leave or something after though, because then you miss that.” “Yeah but none o’ them people were really anythin’ more than a lay,” Keith pointed out. “Ya see, Jay’s a little, uh-“ He thought a moment. “-physically /demanding/,” he finally laughed out. “She must really like ya to have actually brought ya here and interduced ya.” Jayne nodded in agreement. "It sucks how often that happens when I go to visit him in New York." She growled lightly "everyone is so demanding of him there, the amount of times they've come bangin' on tha door. They're stealin' cuddles." She pouted. The smaller male rubbed the back of his neck. "I've heard that, when she was driving here she mentioned it." He shrugged. "I don't really blame her though, ya know?" “Next time bring me with you...I’ll show you /my/ side of New York and provide cuddles on command,” she mused. “But now you understand why get so tiffed when I go so long without it,” she mumbled, leaning on the table with her own huff. Keith shrugged. “I mean, I can’t really talk...I used ta be kind of a man ho m’self,” he chuckled out sheepishly. “It took a while to set me right.” Jayne laughed lightly. "Ya know what, I will, it'll piss Snow off all the more." She grinned. "Stuck up bitch." She mumbled. "Tha minute Ya saw Miss Divi it was the end." Ellis snickered. "Divinity? That's one of her sisters, right?" Bigby questioned up to him. “I’ll pretend to be Bigby’s other girlfriend too if you want.../really/ piss her off.” She giggled. “....Thank you, by the way,” she spoke quieter this time, looking up at the taller woman seriously. “Now listen here, Mr. ‘love-at-first-sight’. You ain’t about ta tease me ‘bout fallin’ fer a /literal/ angel when you’s tha one that got all googly-eyed over a chick ya met at a farmer’s market /one time/,” he scolded Ellis playfully. “The /best/ sister, in my humble opinion...You meet a girl like her, and damn near everythin’ just changes...” He leaned against Jay’s car, staring off dreamily.

[bearxclaws-archive-blog]

Arc Headcanons // PRE-SKIP PT.4

It’s been two weeks since I did one of these ‘cause I was on vacation, but here we go again! Sorry for being repetitive, but there will most likely be mentions of Sanji x Anita.

DUVAL / SABAODY ARCHIPELAGO

— ARC OUTFIT

— After almost watching Sanji’s upper half disappear on Thriller Bark, it’s going to become a habit for her to touch a bit more. Not that she was why about it before because she’s just a physical person, but she’ll touch his arm, chest and anything from the neck up as a weird way of making sure he’s there. Totally brushes it off as just making sure he’s still mostly intact.

— She doesn’t know him, but Anita is worried about Ace too. She doesn’t like that his Vivre Card is burning. Still, she trusts Luffy’s judgement and doesn’t insist that he go after his brother. By the sounds of it, Ace is perfectly capable of defending himself.

— While Chopper and Usopp are relaxing and the rest of the crew is dealing with the submarine, Anita is in the kitchen pouting because she wanted to go underwater. With her Devil Fruit, she can’t. Oh, well, it’s sort of given her the chance to indulge in her stupid crush and watch Sanji work.

— Him getting decked by Keimi’s whole body when she lands on him cracks her up, though. She really needs to stop laughing at other peoples suffering. Not really sure why she does, but I feel like she just would.

— Having not been there during the Arlong Park chaos, she isn’t sure who Hachi is. Learning about it infuriates her, and so does learning that mermaids are sold.

— A thing I am realizing; when her island was taken over, her and her troupe were basically turned into slaves. They were a little cleaner and happier looking, but it was part of the act to lure pirates in. If they disobeyed, they were beaten or even put to death. They were scared of the man that had put himself in the position of master. So the entirety of this arc, Anita will likely be pissed and slightly afraid in a ‘ does he realize I’m gone and has he told other Marines so they recognize me’ way. She doesn’t want to be dragged back home yet when she can’t help. Didn’t have the smarts to think that it might happen until now. Whoops~

— Anita goes with the flow, so she doesn’t care who they’re saving as long as Luffy’s the one that ordered it. Although a large part of her wants to meet a talking octopus-man.

— Duval’s existence almost kills Anita. She will be doubled over despite being attacked with poisonous harpoons, holding her stomach and wheezing for breath.

— Because she’s stupid and obvious, I feel like the ones that know she has a crush on Sanji would be Nami, Robin and Usopp. At least one of them is going to be a shit and make a joke about her liking Duval because what’s the difference between him and Sanji? Rude as fuck, but it only makes her start laughing again.

— Flips her shit when they trap him in the water and announce they’re going to drown him. God, sometimes she hates that she has a Devil Fruit. When he does get rescued and has his dumb little nosebleed, Anita will poke him with her foot. Moron.

— Luffy and Anita have a contest to see who can put the most takoyaki in their mouth at once. Anita loses, obviously, and ends up almost choking. Sanji goes to help but Luffy smacks her hard on the back and ends up coughing it up. Ew.

— I’m wondering if Anita would know who the Celestial Dragons are. What I’m thinking is that their conditions at the circus were a lot worse than I first made them out to be. That they were treated like slaves, and that because the corrupt part of the government turns a blind eye ( and sometimes encourages ) the buying and selling of people. So if they were treated and seen as slaves, then I wonder if Celestial Dragons visited the island to be entertained and buy some of the troupe members. 

One day she will have noticed that a certain member has gone missing and not come back. Would destroy her to see them being treated poorly years later while visiting Sabaody. Not sure if that’s giving her too much personal involvement in the arc, though. But, honestly, I’m liking this idea because she’s not going to get a major arc of her own like the canon Straw Hats to. This is the only personal things I can think of to make up for her lack of an arc and a slight foreshadowing that she won’t have a home to come back to.

— Anita debates being a love-struck idiot and staying on the ship with Sanji while it’s getting repaired by Franky and Usopp. Decides against it because she knows she’s being stupid and doesn’t want to look at his dumb, handsome face. Stupid cook.

— Like Zoro, she wasn’t there for the briefing about not dealing with Celestial Dragons. She’s off on her own thing, probably notices someone that used to be in her troupe but sees they have a collar and are being treated like an animal rather than a person. Follows after them, tries to call their name and get their attention. Might get a small, frantic look as the only warning not to say anything else! Gets confused and ends up losing them before she realizes that she’s where the rest of the Straw Hats are. Is yanked down onto her knees by one of them and doesn’t get why. Learns real quick and decides just as swiftly that she doesn’t like this place.

— Doesn’t care about Law’s crew, except for Bepo. Bear! Walking, talking bear! If they weren’t trying so hard to get Keimi back, she would have scrambled over to talk to Bepo. Wants so badly to be his bear-buddy.

— Adds a kick of her own when Sanji asks if they can buy the dancing girl. Come on, Sanji.  .  . Really? You’re my most beloved muse and I wanna kick your ass for that.

— Anita doesn’t get why people are reacting so badly to Hatchi. She isn’t the least bit against other races because there were too many different kinds of people that worked for the circus, so she only sees them all as people.

— She’s secretly enjoying learning about all these old pirates because she never met Crocus, and she doesn’t hear about Roger much. Always a sucker for good stories.

— The idea of splitting up doesn’t appeal to her. She has a bad feeling in her gut that she blames her animal-like instinct on. Assume Chopper can feel it too even though they’ve got got human in them too. Doesn’t mention it and almost approaches Sanji to ask if she can tag along with him wherever he plans on going.

— Anita can be incredibly dumb sometimes, but I feel like she would quickly notice that it wasn’t Kuma they were fighting. Or, at least, notice that he doesn’t have the paw-pads. Kind of hard for her to forget those when she’s so closely associated with bears.

— Probably tried to bite at the Pacifista’s and only managed to get through the ‘skin.’ I know Brook couldn’t get through it, but she’s a gigantic bear, come on. They’re supposed to be able to bite through iron, so she’s going to get her jaw into PX-4 and shed some of that outside layer.

— Running would be so easy for her in her bear form, but she doesn’t flee like she’s told. She’s taking on too much responsibility as a tank and trying to protect the groups that look like they’re under attack the most. 

— Because of that, I feel like she would end up being the first one ‘erased’ because she would make every attempt to lunge in front of Zoro when the real Kuma comes. I know Zoro disappearing first was important, but she’s the one that jumps out first to do her job. She won’t get to see what happens to Chopper while he’s rampaging again, and doesn’t get to see what happens to everyone else. I wanted to be more despair inducing for her, but she would be one of the first gone and won’t have time to see them vanish.

URSA ISLAND / TWO YEAR SEPARATION

— Anita crash-lands on an island inhabited entirely by large, beastly bears. They’re all larger and stronger than she is, and they aren’t the least bit welcoming to find a human on their island. Unlike actual wild bears, these ones are barely smart enough to have a system of roles, the most important being tribe leader.

— The tribe leader, Anita dubbed King. He was a large, black, monstrous bear with nasty scars and gnarly teeth. He looks like a cruel leader, but he’s actually as kind as they come. He only wants to frighten her away because they can’t stand humans. He seeks only to protect his people. That’s what she’s come to understand, at least.

— There’s only one place that’s safe on the island, and it’s the largest tree in the entire place. They can’t climb to the top, and she can in her human form. Discovers, however, that she’s not the only human stuck on that island. A young girl is also trapped there. She doesn’t know herself very well and is nameless. She lives in the trees to avoid the bears and has lived there so long that she smells like them. Eventually, they agree that she will be called Ylde. Pronounced like ‘wild’ but Anita can’t spell and just went based on the sound.

— Ylde: Isn’t it spelled w-i-l-d?     Anita: ...How the fuck does a two-year-old stuck on a bear island know how to spell better than me?     Ylde: I’m thirteen.     Anita: Silence, small baby.

— Ylde attempts to convince Anita that there’s no point in trying to integrate herself into the tribe. Even as a bear, they’ll know she doesn’t belong from her scent and size. Anita corrects her and says she only wants to get off the damned island so she can get back to her friends.

— Because it will be a while before she gets the paper and she’s determined to leave, she gets into her bear form and readies herself to fight through the swarm of bears just to get to shore and find one of the many boats Ylde says have washed up over the years.

— End up coming back to Ylde’s tree because she gets her ass kicked. Tries this every single day until the moment the News Coo comes with the paper saying. She understands the hint given by Luffy and is immediately relieved to see he’s still alive. Doesn’t know if the rest are, but she’s hoping so. Didn’t even occur to her that they might be dead because she managed to survive the crash.

— Spends the next to years fighting and learning on her own. Ylde doesn’t stick around when, during the first year and a half, an intact ship is discovered. She insists Anita come with her, but she refuses. Ylde, having gotten attached to her, promises to come back to that exact spot in two years to pick her up and take her where she wants to go.

— Anita’s goal, like everyone else, is to get stronger. She realizes after being beaten again and again that she’s too weak in her bear form. Seeing as how that’s the part she wants to strengthen most, she dedicates herself to staying a bear as long as she possibly can. Day in and day out, from sunrise to sunset, she wants to stay a bear. She does this and does get stronger, but doesn’t realize that in the process she was inching closer to becoming the tribe leader herself.

— Over the two year separation, the following happens; she learns armament haki that she uses only on her teeth and claws, gets even larger than before, earns more devastating-looking scars, gets even greedier with food because of how unfair the tribe was to her before she became leader, eventually becomes the leader and earns the respect of the entire island.

— But because the rest of the tribe refuses to fight her, she becomes lazy and antsy. She will absolutely crave a fight whenever it feels like one is brewing now.

— New moves:           Mighty Roar: Can either a. instill fear in an enemy and send them fleeing or b. temporarily disable them because the intensity of the sound is mind-numbing. Not to be confused with Conqueror's Haki ;;

          Bear Trap: Bites through any part of an enemy that she can and fuses her jaws together with her Armament Haki as long as the teeth are touching, leaving it nearly impossible to shake her off.

          Bearrel Roll: Yes, it’s a pun to barrel roll. Doesn’t actually suit the move because she’s not doing a barrel roll, but she does curl up and roll into her target to catch them off guard. Is a good move to use with people she trusts to throw / kick her.

[waywarddaughterwrites]

Chuck

Hey guys! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while, I practically work three day jobs, so sometimes writing has to take a backseat to the backseat. I’ve finally had time to write, and I want to share with you the fic for my first ever fic request from the lovely @thecatcharmer! They requested a cute, fluffy fic with Gabriel, The Reader, and a cat. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Gabriel/Reader, established relationship

Warnings: Some cottony fluff

Summary: You’d been working back-to-back cases and needed a break. While on a day trip to an outdoor mall with your boyfriend, Gabriel, your day takes an interesting turn.

*********************

“Gabe. Seriously. That is not practical. You don’t need it!”

The mighty archangel Gabriel frowned like a scolded child and dramatically hung his head as he walked away to put the DIY Cotton Candy Machine back on the shelf. You chucked as you turned back to the rack of clothing you were browsing through. Your eyes widened at the outdated patchwork and ungodly amounts of denim in front of you. You had been working back-to-back cases for about a month now and had been in dire need of a break. Not only were you physically exhausted, but you practically hadn’t seen your boyfriend, Gabriel (the heavenly toddler himself), in all that time. Apparently Heaven had been busy, too, not to mention the Winchesters were causing trouble that Gabe inevitably got roped into. You’d met them a few times, even worked a couple of cases with them. They’d offered for you to tag along, but solo was more your style. The less you had to worry about, the less there was to distract you on a hunt. Of course, as your boyfriend had lovingly pointed out, also the less there is to back you up when you need it. You’d brushed that off, knowing that with a quick prayer Gabe would always have your back. You’d known him for several years and had been dating him for two. Sometimes it felt like the relationship was still brand-new. Sometimes…

“Hey babe! Look at me!”

…sometimes it had felt like forever. Rolling your eyes in anticipation, you turned and saw Gabriel standing in the aisle in front of you in the most hilariously hideous combination of clothing you’d seen. He had lime green corduroy pants tied with a scarf belt, a 70’s-esque suede tassel vest over top of a neon pink tshirt with the words “Fight The Man” emblazoned on the front. Overtop of all of this was a giant probably-used-to-be-white fur coat that trailed onto the floor. He had a comically large sombrero on his head and thick, orange-rimmed coke bottle glasses on his face. He had a shit-eating grin and spread his arms wide, turning slowly to allow you the full effect of the nightmare. Your mouth had dropped open and you were torn between laughing until your lungs gave out and pretending you didn’t know him. You looked around the small thrift store and noticed that there were only a couple of other people there and luckily, they hadn’t noticed the monstrosity that was your (luck you!) boyfriend.

Gabriel sauntered over toward you, palpably proud of himself. You couldn’t help your giggles as he wrapped his hands around your waist and dipped you. He leaned down to kiss you, but the sombrero bumped your forehead on his way down, effectively blocking him from his goal. He huffed up at the hat and you couldn’t stop the sudden burst of laughter the sight instigated from you. He grinned back down at you, eyes shining in mirth.

“So, about that cotton candy maker…”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Are you..? Is this..? Is this a *threat* sir?” His only response was to waggle his eyebrows at you. “Gabriel, why do you need a cotton candy maker when you can literally snap it into the room whenever you want?”

He pouted “it’s not the same!” He lifted you back into a standing position and whipped off the hat, bowing to you and offering his hand. “A dance, good madam?”

“There’s not even any…” Gabe quirked an eyebrow and suddenly the dusty speakers overhead were belting a hoe-down type of song, “…music.” You rolled your eyes and took his hand. He immediately started into a mix between a tango and a line-dance. You laughed at the sheer absurdity of it and noticed as he spun you that you’d garnered the attention of your handful of fellow shoppers. They were smiling and when the song ended and Gabriel finished with you in a dip, your onlookers clapped and whooped good-naturedly. You blushed in embarrassment, but when you saw the mirth in Gabe’s face you didn’t care. God, you loved that man.

************

Twenty minutes later the two of you had left the store and were walking along the sidewalk of shops, Gabriel was cooing at his new cotton candy maker like it was a newborn baby and (thank his Father) back in his normal clothes. You were absentmindedly window shopping as the two of you casually strolled past the shops, vaguely thinking about dinner and a long, hot bubble bath in your future, when something caught your eye. Actually, your hip, as Gabriel had stopped dead and you’d walked into the corner of his new “cottony baby.” Letting a small huff of annoyance, you glanced at your boyfriend, who was paying you no mind. You followed his gaze to the shop ahead of you: Buddies “R” Us. The pet shop. In the window was a glass container with small kittens playing with brightly colored balls. Gabriel’s eyes were wide and you had to admit, the sight was cute.

“Can we go in?” Gabriel asked in a voice like a child asking if the present really was for him.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, sure? But what are you going to do with that?” You looked pointedly at the giant box in his arms. He rolled his eyes at you and the box was gone, probably now sitting in your apartment. He took your hand and raced to the door, pulling you along in his excitement.

The shop was impressive. You were struck by the cacophony of animal sounds. There were squawks and chirps and meows and barks and a few snorts coming from every corner of the shop, which was bigger on the inside than you had expected. Gabriel had gone immediately to the tank of kittens you’d seen in the window and was leaning over the side, scratching one on his head as the others scrambled for attention. You smiled fondly at the sight. He looked up and saw you watching him. He winked and beckoned you over. Picking up a golden kitten, he plopped him into your arms. You giggled as it immediately began purring and batting at your hair.

“He’s a sweetie, isn’t he? Good choice.”

You turned and saw a young woman, obviously a shop employee, watching you with the kitten.

“Oh, no. I’m not actually getting an animal today, I just…I’m sorry,” you stammered, putting the cat back into the tank.

“Well why not?” Gabriel asked from behind you. You turned to him and looked at him as though he had grown a second head.

“Because I’m barely home? Because my *job* makes me travel and stay away for days at a time? I don’t have the time to take care of an animal.”

The clerk had been standing beside you, good-naturedly listening and smiling. “Not to worry!” She started, “there are several animals you could get that are low-maintenance. Just refill their food bowls every couple of days, clean their cages, and you’re fine!”

You gave her a halfhearted smile and said a little more firmly, “I appreciate it, but no. It’s not going to happen for me, I’m sorry.”

The clerk seemed to take the hint and walked away to another customer. Gabriel came up behind you with a puppy in his hands. The puppy licked your ear and caused you to startle and turn around toward the pair. “Come on, (y/n), not even a fish?”

You raised your eyebrow at him again. “No, Gabe. I’m not getting an animal. It wouldn’t be fair to the animal.” Your phone began to buzz in your pocket and you turned away to pull it out as Gabriel put the puppy back where he found it.

Looking at your phone, you saw:

“Working a job in town. Vamps. In and out but could use the backup. You in?”

You sent back a quick reply and closed your phone as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You leaned in to the embrace.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“Got a text from Jamie. She needs backup for a case tonight.” You felt his shoulders sag a bit and you turned around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. “She says it’s a quick in-and-out vamp nest, she just wants some backup. I promise I won’t be out too late.” You smiled sweetly up at him and he gave a small sigh and leaned down to kiss your nose.

“Just be safe.”

“I always am.”

****************

“Quick in-and-out my ass,” you thought to yourself as you limped toward your apartment building. The two vamps Jamie had been tracking had had four secret friends. Three-on-one with vamps had been exhausting. You’d been through worse, but you knew Gabe was likely to scold you for not calling him to help. He hated when you showed up bruised and beaten, no matter that this was the life you’d chosen and he could easily patch you up with a snap of his fingers.

You rolled your shoulder, hearing pops and cracks as your muscles and joints protested. You’d been thrown into a wall on that shoulder, you were lucky it hadn’t been dislocated. The gash on your left leg where one of them had gotten you with a knife was much worse. You’d torn off one of your sleeves to wrap around the wound, but the torn sleeve exposed the fresh bruises and cuts down your arm. You were in bad shape, but you’d beaten them, and you both had made it out alive. That was a success in your book, no matter what the angel said.

One more block to go. Your building was in sight but your leg was aching and begging for a quick rest. You leaned onto a stoop and stretched. You groaned at the feeling of your muscles extending.

A sound from the alley beside you startled you into defense-mode and immediately you were standing with your weapon drawn facing the potential threat. There was something rustling near the dumpster. Cautiously, you approached it. Kicking aside a bag of trash you located the potential threat.

“Mew”

You put your blade away as you took in the bedraggled sight in front of you. Staring up at you was a small bundle of matted fur with pointy ears and tiny paws. You crouched down and reached your hand out, letting the kitten sniff your fingers to prove that you weren’t a threat. He sniffed a moment before rubbing his face against your hand, purring.

“The fact that you aren’t bothered by the smell of dead vampire is a sign of how long you’ve probably been out here all alone, huh? What are you doing out here boy?”

The half-starved little kitten boldly moved toward you and rubbed against your leg, letting you pet his back. He squeaked a bit in surprise when you scooped him up, but didn’t protest.

Wait, why were you holding a kitten?

You pulled him back away from you and thought about putting him down. What exactly was the plan here? You’d told Gabriel earlier that very day that a pet wasn’t going to work for your lifestyle. You looked at the pair of large lamp-like eyes staring back at you. The kitten mewed and began licking at a small wound on your hand. Well…there’s nothing wrong with helping a cute little stray find a new home. You’d promised Gabriel you’d take a few days off, this time you’d keep the promise and use the time to help relocate this little guy.

Your mind made up, you tucked him into the crook of your arm, where he snuggled into your dirty shirt and purred again. You limped the rest of the way home, trying to figure out what you were going to tell Gabriel when you showed up and what he might say.

You were right around the corner from your apartment, the biggest hurtle being the damnable stairs you were trying to climb while injured and holding a cat. Why did you live on the third floor? Why?

You finally got to your apartment and, after fumbling with your keys one-handed, opened the door to the sight of your boyfriend sitting on the couch setting up his new cotton candy toy. The moment the door opened he looked up at you, concern evident on every inch of his face. His frown deepened as he took in your current state. He didn’t seem to notice the tiny ball of fur curled in the crook of your left elbow.

“You have a funny definition of ‘won’t be out too late’.”

He walked toward you and cupped your face in his hands. “You were starting to worry me.” He kissed your forehead and with the touch you felt the wonderfully tingling sensation of warmth and lightness wash over you. You sighed in relief, your pain gone.

“Mew?”

You’d forgotten about the suddenly-squirmy bundle in your arms. Gabriel started at the noise, looked down, and raised his eyes slowly back up to meet yours, an eyebrow cocking in question.

“Who’s your friend?”

You blushed and began to stammer out, “I was walking, well, limping back here and…he was in a dumpster-well not in the dumpster-but the point is he looked so sad and I couldn’t leave him there-” you stopped when Gabriel began to chuckle at you.

“What happened to 'I don’t have time for animals?’”

“I still believe that, but you’ve said for weeks now I need a break and this little guy needs a home so I thought: why not spend my break helping him find one? I mean look at him, isn’t he adorable?”

You looked down at the kitten in your arms and noticed vaguely that Gabriel’s healing seemed to have accidentally affected him, too. The matting was gone and in its place was a beautiful brown tabby coat.

Gabriel lifted your chin with his finger and kissed you softly on your lips.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, sugar plum. Did you have any ideas on a name for the little guy?”

You lifted the kitten with both hands to eye-level. He gave you a calculating stare, as if measuring you up, which quickly turned playful as he batted your nose with his tiny paws. You grinned.

“How about Chuck?”

[starwrite-er]

Poster Boy [Chapter 5] - Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: Slow updates over the next two weeks. I’ve got a bunch of exams.

Tags: @vanessawolfblue @kxylo-ren @britishteahater

 The process of waking up is slow, very slow. Not yet with the energy to open my eyes and vanquish any wandering thoughts, I instead curl in on myself further, the warmth of the sheets comforting, my mind barely noticing the beeps of machines and quiet murmurs in the room. My breathing is slow.

 The urge to try and fall back asleep is strong. I wriggle, repositioning myself on the hard bed when I am reminded of the blaster wound I suffered. Almost unmoving, I crack open my eyes, glancing down hopelessly in the direction of my torso as I gingerly brush my fingers over the bandages. If I press hard enough, I can almost feel the raw, charred skin dashed across the side of my ribs.

The voices quieten and I hear footsteps leading away from my bedside. I take a minute, mentally preparing myself to actually move and face the day. I roll onto my other side to see Poe in the cot besides mine.

 "Morning." I mumble, eyes still half lidded from sleep, drooping and fluttering shut.

 "Afternoon, actually," He tells me, a small chuckle following his words. I hum in acknowledgment, a ghost of a smile touching my lips and my eyes shutting again, not quite willing to leave the depths of sleep. "It's good to see you up."

 "How're you feeling?" I murmur, forcing my eyes open more, my head resting on my arm like a pillow.

 "I'm fine. I woke up about half an hour ago. Doctors insist on making me stay for today, though," Poe tells me, sitting propped up against some actual pillows. "You didn't tell me you got shot. How are you?"

 "It's barely a scratch." I notice him shaking his head at me lightly.

 "General Organa came to see you, wanted to thank you for getting the information and getting us back alive," Poe nods towards to orange jumpsuit on the table besides my bed. "She also dropped off a new uniform, since yours was ruined."

 I offer him a small smile before sighing and settling back down in the bed. I deserve the sleep.

 "You ever gonna get up?" Poe grins at me, a brow quirked.

 "'M comfy." I mumble, voice muffled by my arm. I open my eyes a touch and grin back at him. He laughs.

 A few minutes pass in comfortable silence. I'm drifting off again, but much to my dismay, a small thought begins to nag at the back of my mind.

 "Y'know, nobody has to know that it was me doing the saving," I speak up, quickly catching Poe's attention. I'm almost bitter at myself for suggesting this. "We could pretend it was you. I know how much your reputation matters." Poe stares at me, slightly slack-jawed. He regains himself, and moves his attention elsewhere.

 "Thanks." Is his one word reply. I hum in response, closing my eyes again. My return to sleep is cut short by my stomach rumbling.

 I huff as I throw off my covers and sit up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed. I barely notice that I'm only in my leggings from yesterday and my sports bra, my torso mostly covered by bandages. I quickly pull on my uniform and shoes as a doctor notices me.

 "You want anything?" I ask Poe over my shoulder as the doctor grants me permission to leave.

 "Nah. There probably isn't much left anyway." He says, and a glance at the clock tells me lunch was a couple hours ago. Oh well.

 Aside from a handle of people conversing in their free time, the Food Hall is empty. One of the many chefs sees me as I approach the counter.

 "You wouldn't happen to have any left overs, would you?" I ask, smiling sheepishly as I ignore the gnawing hunger. They sigh, but bring out a bowl of some kind of cooked grain with a russet coloured curried sauce on top and a small roll of bread.

 "I'm afraid that's all that's left." They tell me.

 "Thank you, but could I get another bowl and spoon?" I ask. They seem curious, but don't ask questions as they give the objects to me. I quickly split the curried grain into equal portions. Flashing the chef a smile, I leave. "Thanks."

 Much to my relief, I don't bump into anyone I know on the trip. I enter the Medbay to find Poe bickering with one of the nurses, trying to weasel his way into being discharged.

 "Sorry to interrupt, but I brought food." I speak up. The nurse shoots me a thankful look and hurries off. Poe eyes the bowls, and I hear his stomach grumble. I laugh, handing him one of the dishes and the loaf of bread.

 "Thanks, but what about you?" He says, trying to give me back the bread.

 "Your injuries are worse than mine. Keep it." I refuse.

 "You haven't eaten since we left for the mission. You deserve the bread." Poe argues.

 "I have food now though! You need it more than me." I retort.

 The bickering goes back and forth, both of us taking bites of the cooked grain while the other is speaking, until somebody takes the bread from Poe's hand and tears it in two.

 "I could hear you two from down the hall." Jessika rolls her eyes at us, handing us each a piece of the loaf. I pout as I stare at my piece of bread, deliberating whether or not to just throw it at Poe. Eventually, I swallow my pride along with the food.

 "Thanks for helping me last night." I tell Jessika, referencing how she helped me with BB-8 and got me to the Medbay.

 "No problem," She says, shrugging. "How are you two feeling?"

 "Fine." Poe and I say in unison. Jess raises her brows, stifling her laughter.

 "Good. The General has a message for you." Right on cue, General Organa walks in. Jess nods at the older woman before taking her leave.

 "Firstly, thank you both for your deeds yesterday. We will still need your reports on the event, but for now your droids have informed us of your actions," A subtle smirk crosses the woman's face. "Thanks to the risks you took, we now know where the First Order are planning their next attack."

 Poe and I exchange a look, sitting up a little straighter, our empty bowls set aside. The General looks me in the eye, with what seems to be a hint of pity.

 "You're familiar with the planet Pamarthe?" General Organa says, directed at Poe. My breath catches, and I quickly avert my gaze from both my higher ups.

 "Yeah. We've got a few pilots from there, right?" Poe nods, a frown appearing on his face.

 "The information that Y/N stole from the First Order tells us that that is where they are planning their next attack, set for a weeks' time." General Organa informs us, glancing in my direction. I swallow thickly.

 "I'll go," I volunteer, standing up. "I know the other Pamarthen pilots will want to go, too."

 "Thank you, Captain L/N. I was hoping you would volunteer," General Organa smiles at me. "I want you to gather a small group of volunteers to go to Pamarthe tomorrow. We do not know if the First Order will change their plans, so it would be best to be prepared."

 "Yes, General. We'll leave first thing in the morning, once I've finished my report for the last mission." I tell her. 

 "It would be best for you to also send daily updates on the situation there. Another squadron will join you closer to the attack date," General Organa informs me. The older woman smiles softly at me, putting a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. Sometimes I forget the stories telling of the planet Alderaan. "May the force be with you, Y/N."

 She leaves. I take a deep breath before I too leave, knowing I have to do my duty, a seed of courage blooming inside me.

 The following morning, I arrive shortly before the rest of the pilots I'm taking with me to Pamarthe. As BB-09 beeps at me reassuringly, I call the attention of my comrades, standing on a small crate and shouting out to them. There's only six of us, but six is all we need to keep our people safe while staying on the lowdown.

 "I just quickly want to thank you all for volunteering on such short notice," I call out, beginning my mini-speech. "This is the first time most of us are returning after many years, and I understand that it isn't on the best terms. We may be going back, but don't let your guard down. Know where your teammates are, where your blasters are, where your ships are relative to you at all times, because these are what will help us defend our home planet, and I trust that if anyone can defend our homes, it's you. This being said, I do want you all to enjoy the time we have on Pamarthe. You all deserve it."

 The small crowd disperses, whooping as they pump themselves up for the mission at hand, clapping each other on the back, saluting back at me. I hop down for the crate, smiling at the actions of my pilots, when somebody catches my eyes.

 "Shouldn't you be in the Medbay?" I grin, walking over to them, my helmet propped up between my arm and my hip.

 "They just let me go. Figured I'd see you off." Poe chuckles, smiling down at me.

 "Thanks. Don't want you pushing yourself too far though," I joke, noticing how the man is avoiding putting weight on his bad ankle. BB-8 beeps and whistles to me, and I squat down to it's level. "And thank you too, buddy. Make sure Poe doesn't get into any more trouble for me, won't you?" The droid whirrs, amused but agreeable.

 "Hey, if you need any help out there, give me a shout. I've got your back." Poe grabs my arm as I turn to leave, his voice showing how serious he is.

 "I know you do," I smile softly at him. "And I hope you know it goes both ways."

 "Yeah. You've proven that," Poe laughs breathily. "Good luck out there. I'll see you soon."

 "See you around, Dameron." I say, walking away as he lets go of my wrist, stepping out into the early morning light. I beckon for BB-09 to follow me before waving goodbye over my shoulder to the pilot.

 "So, what was that?" I'm asked by one of my pilots over the comms once we're up in the air.

 "What was what?" I reply.

 "That moment with Poe down there." I can practically hear the grin in their voice. I laugh.

 "Nothing. He was just sending us off." I tell them.

 "And by 'us', you mean 'you'?" Another cuts in, giggling. I sigh, shaking my head at the comments of my team fondly.

 "Just focus on the mission at hand, guys." I say, a smile on my face. The lightness in my voice is enough to tell them I'm not angry, though.

 "Everyone ready?" I ask into my mic, the pilots responding affirmative. "Good. Preparing for the jump to hyperspace."

[lesbianrewrites]

Blood of Olympus - Chapter 58

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page. This is a Lesbian edit of The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. This is the final chapter of Lesbians of Olympus, thanks for reading! Tomorrow’s update at 10am EST will be a link to the full edit. Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

LORENA WAS DEAD.

She knew that with absolute certainty. She just didn’t understand why it hurt so much. She felt like every cell in her body had exploded. Now her consciousness was trapped inside a charred crispy husk of demigod roadkill. The nausea was worse than any carsickness she’d ever had. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t see or hear. She could only feel pain.

She started to panic, thinking maybe this was her eternal punishment.

Then somebody put jumper cables on her brain and restarted her life.

She gasped and sat up.

The first thing she felt was the wind in her face, then the searing pain in her right arm. She was still on Festus’s back, still in the air. Her eyes started to work again, and she noticed the large hypodermic needle retracting from her forearm. The empty injector buzzed, whirred and retreated into a panel on Festus’s neck.

‘Thanks, buddy.’ Lorena groaned. ‘Man, being dead sucked. But that physician’s cure? That stuff is worse.’

Festus clicked and clattered in Morse code.

‘No, man, I’m not serious,’ Lorena said. ‘I’m glad to be alive. And, yeah, I love you too. You did awesome.’

A metallic purr ran the length of the dragon’s body.

First things first: Lorena scanned the dragon for signs of damage. Festus’s wings were working properly, though his left medius membrane was shot full of holes. His neck plating was partially fused, melted from the explosion, but the dragon didn’t seem to be in danger of crashing immediately.

Lorena tried to remember what had happened. She was pretty sure she had defeated Gaia, but she had no idea how her friends were doing back at Camp Half-Blood. Hopefully Jessica and Piper had got clear of the blast. Lorena had a weird memory of a missile hurtling towards her and screaming like a little girl … what the heck had that been about?

Once she landed, she’d have to check Festus’s underbelly. The most serious damage would probably be in that area, where the dragon had courageously grappled with Gaia while they blowtorched the sludge out of her. There was no telling how long Festus had been aloft. He’d need to set down soon.

Which raised the question: where were they?

Below was a solid white blanket of clouds. The sun shone directly overhead in a brilliant blue sky. So it was about noon … but of which day? How long had Lorena been dead?

She opened the access panel in Festus’s neck. The astrolabe was humming away, the crystal pulsing like a neon heart. Lorena checked her compass and GPS, and a grin spread across her face.

‘Festus, good news!’ she shouted. ‘Our navigation readings are completely messed up!’

Festus said, Creak?

‘Yeah! Descend! Get us below these clouds and maybe –’

The dragon plummeted so fast that the breath was sucked out of Lorena’s lungs.

They broke through the blanket of white and there, below them, was a single green island in a vast blue sea.

Lorena whooped so loudly they probably heard her in China. ‘YEAH! WHO DIED? WHO CAME BACK? WHO’S YOUR FREAKIN’ SUPERSIZED McSHIZZLE NOW, BABY? WOOOOOOOO!’

They spiralled towards Ogygia, the warm wind in Lorena’s hair. She realized her clothes were in tatters, despite the magic they’d been woven with. Her arms were covered in a fine layer of soot, like she’d just died in a massive fire … which, of course, she had.

But she couldn’t worry about any of that.

Calypso was standing on the beach, wearing jeans and a white blouse, her amber hair pulled back.

Festus spread his wings and landed with a stumble. Apparently one of his legs was broken. The dragon pitched sideways and catapulted Lorena face-first into the sand.

So much for a heroic entrance.

Lorena spat a piece of seaweed out of her mouth. Festus dragged himself down the beach, made clacking noises that meant Ow, ow, ow.

Lorena looked up. Calypso stood over her, her arms crossed, her eyebrows arched.

‘You’re late,’ she announced. Her eyes gleamed.

‘Sorry, Sunshine,’ Lorena said. ‘Traffic was murder.’

‘You are covered with soot,’ she noted. ‘And you managed to ruin the clothes I made for you, which were impossible to ruin.’

‘Well, you know.’ Lorena shrugged. Somebody had released a hundred pachinko balls in her chest. ‘I’m all about doing the impossible.’

Calypsi offered her hand and helped her up. They stood nose to nose as she studied Lorena’s condition. She smelled like cinnamon. Had she always had that tiny freckle next to her left eye? Lorena really wanted to touch it.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘You smell –’

‘I know. Like I’ve been dead. Probably because I have been. Oath to keep with a final breath and all, but I’m better now –’

She stopped her with a kiss.

The pachinko balls slammed around inside her. She felt so happy she had to make a conscious effort not to burst into flames.

When Calypso finally let her go, her face was covered in soot smudges. She didn’t seem to care. She traced her thumb across her cheekbone.

‘Lorena Valdez,’ she said.

Nothing else – just her name, as if it were something magical.

‘That’s me,’ she said, her voice ragged. ‘So, um … you want to get off this island?’

Calypso stepped back. She raised one hand and the winds swirled. Her invisible servants brought two suitcases and set them at her feet. ‘What gave you that idea?’

Lorena grinned. ‘Packed for a long trip, huh?’

‘I don’t plan on coming back.’ Calypso glanced over her shoulder, at the path that led to her garden and her cavern home. ‘Where will you take me, Lorena?’

‘Somewhere to fix my dragon, first,’ she decided. ‘And then … wherever you want. How long was I gone, seriously?’

‘Time is difficult on Ogygia,’ Calypso said. ‘It felt like forever.’

Lorena had a stab of doubt. She hoped her friends were okay. She hoped a hundred years hadn’t passed while she was flying around dead and Festus searched for Ogygia.

She would have to find out. She needed to let Jessica and Piper and the others know she was okay. But right now … priorities. Calypso was a priority.

‘So once you leave Ogygia,’ she said, ‘do you stay immortal or what?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘And you’re okay with that?’

‘More than okay.’

‘Well, then!’ She turned towards her dragon. ‘Buddy, you up for another flight to nowhere in particular?’

Festus blew fire and limped around.

‘So we take off with no plan,’ Calypso said. ‘No idea where we’ll go or what problems await beyond this island. Many questions and no tidy answers?’

Lorena turned up her palms. ‘That’s how I fly, Sunshine. Can I get your bags?’

‘Absolutely.’

Five minutes later, with Calypso’s arms around her waist, Lorena spurred Festus into flight. The bronze dragon spread his wings, and they soared into the unknown.