#yes she is actually naked under that black clothing

[angeloftuesdayy]

🐍 szzzzzsss-zz

(random LV doodle bc I rewatched HP this week)

[woundedoves]

Hi!! Are comfortable with a/b/o? If you are can I please request that with supernatural neuvi, wrio and arle? If not that's fine! Thankyousomuch I love ur works!! (*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ

A/B/O (Alpha) Supernatural Arlecchino, Neuvillette and Wriothesley x Omega Bottom GN!Reader (NSFW)

a/n: i … i got so horny while writing this…. breeding kink ughughugh

you can find the first part of supernatural au here! (NSFW)

warnings: claws, knotting, breeding(no genitalia mentioned), arlecchino has a cock, creampie, almost somnophilia with Neuvi (?) not proofread!

Arlecchino

your alpha is actually very considerate with your comfort even when she’s balls deep in her rut, walking into your room slowly, elegantly. as she takes your hand in hers and gives it a kiss, slowly trailing up your arm and lastly to your neck as she takes off your clothes and lays you on your back. likes to see your face when she’s fucking pups into you.

her dick is finally freed as she takes off her clothes while making quick work of your hole, prodding and fucking you with them as she tells you how cute you’re gonna look when you’re soo full of her pups.

you shiver in anticipation when you see her hard cock, its red and black ombre to the base, cleanly shaved just how she likes it on herself. her knot is the best fuckin part, you part your legs and look up at her w the cutest pout you can muster, “don’t go easy on me, do what you can, give me your pups i—“ your words are cut off when she slams her lips against yours with a groan, her claws coming out as they do with every rut, digging into your thighs as she pulls you close. breathing gets a little heavier as she lines herself up with your hole, slowly bottoming out with a low hiss that has you arching your back with tears already in your eyes. she’s so fuckin’ big, fucking hell.

her hand slowly snakes up to your neck as she chokes you for stability while she pounds her cock in and out of your hole. your eyes roll back as her strong hand keeps you down like a dog by your throat as she uses your hole like a fleshlight, all while just breathing a bit faster. never been one to make so much noise anyways. but you know she fuckin’ loves it, the way her dick is throbbing and the hand on your neck goes to your ass. folds you into the mating press as she gives her (almost) all to her thrusts, you’re a mess by now. begging for her to cum inside and knot you, you wanna be full of her puppies, be full of her.

she hisses one last time as she slams her hips again and again, cumming inside you as your lips meet in a breathless but harsh kiss, feeling your fragile form shiver under her with your own climax. she grunts as she plants her hands on either side of your head and pushes her knot in, making both of you moan in satisfaction. and fuck, you feel so full it makes you cum again, crying out her name as she kisses your neck and rubs circles on your thighs while waiting for her knot to go down.

Neuvillette

he turns into your favourite version of him, all horny and rutting against your ass like a desperate mutt. you smile as you feel both of his cocks hard and pressing into you, you decided to sleep naked that night as it was ‘too hot’… you just knew his rut was coming and wanted to test just how patient your precious dragon was.

moaning like a cheap whore when he pushes one of his cocks inside, the rough edges of it that only happen when he’s in rut make the stretch burn so fucking good as he whimpers. saying sorry like a matra as he fucks into you full power, his arms hugging your hips as he fucks into you from behind, each thrust louder than the last as you tightly close your eyes to feel as much as of that huge dragon dick as you could. moaning out ‘fuck yes’ and ‘don’t stop’ as Neuvillette is getting even whinier, his thrusts sloppy as he cums inside. doesnt stop though, keeps fucking his cum inside you even though you’ve been shaking from your own earth shattering climax.

“I’m… I’m sorry beloved I need this, please—“ he cries out as he lines his second cock into the same hole, any sounds fail to come out of your mouth when he thrusts the second one in and starts the punishing rhythm of his hips with no waiting for your comfort. your eyes roll back as you see stars, your body is limp as your beloved alpha uses you like a fleshlight. helpless and taking the way his cocks coat your insides with his cum, some of it gushing out of your hole as moans at the sight.

he cums with a cry of your name as he slams his hips onto your ass again and again, you’re pretty sure your ass is bruised by now, you couldn’t even feel it. you dont care though, not when two knots enter you and pump you full of your alpha’s cum. full of his pups. you try to breathe as Neuvilliette slowly licks your face and neck, when did he even bite down? his hands go to your belly to soothe your body’s pain. it’s somewhat helpful.

Wriothesley

you cry out as Wriothesley slams his hips again and again, his knot already inside but he refuses to stop fucking you. you’re bent over his desk, his rut finding him at the worst time. thankfully for him, you, his mate, showed up.

which means that there’s a puddle of cum and slick on the floor below your ass, your clothes have been torn off from your body, claw marks littering every part of your body but mostly; your thighs.

you feel his claws move to your chest as they play with your sore nipples, making you whimper as you feel his cock pump the 3rd load inside you. he licks and kisses your neck for a few seconds as you calm down. then he bites down on that sweet fuckin spot on your neck as he grinds his knot into you, making you cum again with a low moan of his name as he ruts into you.

you feel so fucking full, the way he’s just rutting that fat fucking knot into you while he littera your neck in kisses and bites, one of his hands going down to your sex and matching the rythym of his thrusts as he growls lowly, whining a bit when he finally stills as he cums again; his knot getting a little smaller as he places kisses on your back. such a good little mate for him.

[trendywaifus]

riding stelle’s abs for an only fans video. cw: ab riding, cursing, praising, fem! reader, reader is half naked, stelle is fully clothed

“ ‘wanna ride your abs this time, puppy. “ you mutter against stelle’s lips before pressing a wet kiss to them, hands curling around her firm biceps and softly squeezed. “ is your phone recording? “ her slightly calloused palms softly massages your hip bones. it takes her a moment to respond as she’s too busy chasing and kissing at your lips, losing herself in you as always. the constant wet sound of her lips smacking against yours reverberates around her cabin.

“ it is. .“ stelle sends you a lustful lidded gaze through her messy grey hair, sweaty palms making you sway your hips down against her grey sweatpants. her phone is propped up on the desk, supported by a small stack of journals she’s collected throughout her trailblazer missions. it’s positioned towards the bed, giving a nice side view for your future viewers. “ lay down for me, baby. “

with bated breath, stelle lays her head on the pillow, intently watching your every move with hooded honey-colored eyes. you sit down on her lap and she can feel the warmth of your bare cunt even through the thick fabric of her sweatpants. your fingers curl around the hem of her black t-shirt and pulled it up, revealing her toned stomach. her muscle visibly coils and relaxes when you run your hand over the firm, slightly bumpy surface of her creamy skin.

“ you’re so pretty like this, stelle. “ you purr, bending down to plant several kisses on her tummy. a whiny sound escapes her chest as she feels the warm and tickling sensation of your hot lips drag along her pretty abs. butterflies flutters around in her belly as you continue to litter her tight skin with kisses until it’s glistening with a light sheen of sweat. “ ride me now—please.” she’s already begging for you. cute.

“ mhm, anything you want. “ you positioned yourself over her stomach, straddling her sides with your thighs and sat down on her abs. stelle’s muscles flexes under you as they brush against your bundle of nerves. “ oh fuck. “ you murmur and circled your hips along the curvy surface. she can feel your arousal smear on her stomach as your throbbing pussy grinds down against her.

“ i b-bet i can get off like this, baby. ” you groan, shamelessly humping her abs as the phone records the dirty act. she whines again, toes curling from the sensitivity. her strong hands grabs the fat of your thighs and she assists you with your rhythm. your slit roughly brushes against the curve of one of her abs, earning a guttural moan from you.

“ fucck, you feel so good. “ you pant, practically now humping stelle like a dog in heat. stelle swallows hard, watching the dazed expression on your face become more and more apparent as minutes drags on. “ so pretty, keep going. .” she pleads breathlessly, snaking a hand under your shirt to knead one of your breasts. it’s so slippery, she can feel your clit smush against her with every filthy rut of your hips.

“ sh-shit. .i might come a little early actually. “ you close your eyes, growing desperate as the knot tightens in your belly. a cacophony of broken moans spills from your lips and stelle whimpers when she feels the hotness gradually become unbearable between her legs. she can come just from your pretty voice and watching you ride her. “ ah, it’s coming, stelle, fuck—“

you let out a long string of curses as your hips stutter. stelle moans when she feels glob of your thick release coat and smear all over her abs and trickle down her sides. you cast her a strained smile, rocking your tired hips to ease your high. there’s a dreamy look in her golden eyes as she drinks you in. “ why are you looking at me like that, babe? you want a kiss? “

“ y-yes please. “ she responds back in desperation without hesitation. you adjust yourself and dip down to give her what she wants. her hand finds itself on the small of your back, slender fingers tangled in your hair as you kissed her just the way she likes; messy and sloppy. your tongue curl and swirls around hers, ignoring the drool running down your chins. by the end of it, she’s panting heavily and still whiny.

you kiss her again, brushing back heaps of sliver hair from her sweaty forehead. “ let me clean the mess for you, handsome girl. i’ll lick it all up. “

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hellooo 👋🏻

James being into rough sex, like bruises, bites, making sure you’re limping next day? Reader actually doesn’t like it, but takes it as she afraid he’ll break up with her? He doesn’t notice that she’s is pain and is enjoying seeing marks all over her body. Until one night he wakes up and finds her in the bathroom crying and trying to clean herself after the rough session? And he’s upset that she didn’t tell him she wanted him to be gentle? He takes her back to bedroom and they do it slow and passionately?

I’m thinking ajaf James or black album?

Warnings: smut, implied rough sex, bruises, hickeys, fingering (f receiving), angst, crying, aggressively cleaning skin, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You scrubbed and scrubbed but it didn’t stop the deep purple from spilling under your skin. Your neck, arms and legs all littered in bruises, muscles sore and voice hoarse, tears rolling down your cheeks in streams.

You bit your lip to keep your sobs down, not wanting to wake James who was fast asleep just down the hall. He’d gotten back from tour the day before and after sleeping the day away he was ready to release all his pent up emotions on you.

He loved seeing you all marked up, hickeys and hand prints, all from him. He loved owning you, claiming you as his for everyone to see, it was his favourite part and you were so convinced that if he ever knew how much you hated it, he’d hate you.

You couldn’t lose him, you loved him, the pain was worth it… right?

James woke up to find himself naked in bed, alone. It wasn’t normal for him to be alone at home, you were always there, you didn’t work because you didn’t need to, he didn’t want you to. He figured you’d just gone to the bathroom and would be back soon.

Then he heard a clattering sound and thought something happened, so he went to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, leaning closer to the door. He heard you sniffles and water running before you shut it off.

“Yes, yeah, I-I’m fine.” You said, struggling to keep your voice flat but managing, just barely. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be right out.” You kept working with the cloth, trying clean up the mess James couldn’t have been bothered with. At some point it became less about the sweat and cum, you were rubbing your skin raw trying to get the marks off, the scratches and bruises.

James waited a moment longer, listening to the faint sounds he could hear. He sighed with a nod. “Just be quick.” He said, turning and walking away.

He sat down in bed and waited for you to come back. He waited a whole minute, if even, before going back to the bathroom and knocking again. “Let me in.”

You jumped at his knock, not expecting him a second time. “I’m sorry, Jamie, I-I promise I’ll be out in a minute.” The words came out rushed and panicked, you didn’t know what he wanted or why he was here but it scared you all the same.

“No, I wasn’t asking, sweetheart, let me in.” He demanded, trying the doorknob but it was locked. You hesitated, then you questioned why you were hesitating. All he wanted was to get in the bathroom because he heard you crying, why were you scared.

You didn’t know what he was going to do to you, you didn’t know how he was going to react to you crying over the marks he put there but you assumed it would end tragically.

You unlocked the door and it swung open, making you step back, you gripped the counter for stability. James caught the notion, eyeing you closely.

You stood naked in front of him, covered in marks he put on you. Your skin was red and irritated but it wasn’t from him, the wet cloth in the filled sink gave him a decent idea of what you were doing.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked, taking a step closer to you. You instinctively took a step back before mentally slapping yourself and moving closer to him again. He sighed and took a step back himself, not wanting to make you more uncomfortable, he could practically see your skin crawling. “I’m not mad, darling, I love you and I’m worried, what happened?” His voice was firm but gentle, full of love.

You crumbled, unable to hold it in anymore. You fell to your knees crying, James quickly got to his knees in front of you, pulling you closer until you were sitting in his lap. He gradually tightened his hold on you, planting kisses wherever he could reach in hopes of calming you down but he didn’t want to force you to stay in his lap.

You were scared of him, terrified even, and that broke a piece of him. He never wanted you to be scared of him, he wanted to be your safe place, who you came for when you cried. Here you were, hiding from him as you broke down.

You tried to speak but it came out mumbled and slurred, voice all choked up and you coughed between sobs so he just held you and kissed you all over, letting you catch your breath before you tried speaking again.

“It hurts!” You cried, the first thing he heard clearly.

“I get that but what hurts?” He asked, keeping his voice soft and low.

“You hurt!” You yelled, looking up at him with glassy eyes and a quivering lip. He stared back at you, eyes wide and flickering over your heartbroken features.

“I hurt..?” He repeated, words coming out barely above a whisper. “Sweetheart, no…” He tightened his hold on you, pulling your head to his chest. “Why wouldn’t you say something..?”

“I-I didn’t want- didn’t want you to leave-leave me…” You managed to get out.

James shook his head. He brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. “I’m not leaving you anytime soon, love, if I do or say something you don’t like you have to tell me, you don’t deserve to be treated like that if you don’t like it.” He kissed you and let you rest against him once more.

He held you in his lap on the bathroom floor until you stopped crying when he carried you to bed and curled up with you. He lay behind you, an arm around your torso with his hand resting on your stomach, his other arm under your head, free hand playing with your hair.

James placed soft kisses to the back of your neck and leading down to your shoulder, the hand on your stomach moving down to rub your clit slow circles. You bit your lip to quiet yourself but it felt good and a few slipped.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He said, kissing your jaw. “Just relax, don’t try to stop your body, alright? Just feel good.” Your lip slipped from between your teeth and more moans left your.

“Want more, Jamie.” You said in a whisper, not sure if you wanted him to hear it or not.

“More?” He repeated, pulling his hand away for a moment. “Just tell me if it’s too much.” He said, pushing into you with a low groan.

He moved his hips slow, letting you feel and savour ever moment of it. His hand went back to your clit, the pace was nothing he’d done with you before, it was always fast and hard, words harsh and degrading. This was different.

“You’re doing so good for me, darling, just keep making those noises, let me hear you.” He muttered, leaving kisses on you to leave kisses on you, not to mark you. Your skin was littered with James but they would go away, James loved you too much to put them back. As long as you loved him and knew he loved you nothing else mattered.

“Jamie-! Jamie, feels-feels good.” You whined, clutching the sheets, the hand playing with your hair went to grab yours, letting you squeeze him.

James didn’t have anything to say, leaving more kisses in his wake, feeling his own high coming up on him. Your eyes fluttered and rolled back, body melting into James’s as he came, filling you to the brim with his seed.

He moved, going to pull out but you stopped him. “Stay, Jamie.” You said, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Just stay.”

He smiled back at you and nodded, pulling you tighter to him. “I’ll clean up in the morning, then, alright?” You nodded, letting sleep take over you.

[that-tmr-girl]

What Girls Want {Minho x Aris x Reader Smut}

Trying to figure out what girls want in bed ends in a threesome.

Dom Minho x sub Aris x switch reader, vaginal sex, masterbation, praise kink, hair pulling kink

The argument was silly, and it didn't actually matter. It was a stupid debate between friends that was almost unwinnable.

“Girls want soft sex. Slow gentle sex where you touch her all over,”Aris argued.

“No. They want rough sex. You gotta fuck her until she's screaming,”Minho argued.

“Nobody wants that.”

“Girls do.”

“They really don't.”

“They really do.”

“They don't.”

“They do.”

“Fine. Let's ask a girl.”

“That’s a terrible idea,”Aris argued.

Minho was already looking around, knowing exactly who to ask. You weren't awkward about these things and were close to both of them.

As Minho walked to you, Aris knew he had to follow. No matter how his face burned, he had to be there for the conversation.

“Y/N, what do girls want?”Minho asked.

“What?”You asked.

“What do girls want in bed?”He clarified.

“In bed?”You echoed, your face flushing at the question.

“Yeah. In bed,”Minho nodded.

“I mean every girl is different,”You answered.

“Okay. Then, what do you want?”Aris mumbled, his face burning more.

“I mean I don't really know. I’ve never really thought about it,”You admitted.

“You could find out then?”

Aris turned even redder at the suggestion, though he couldn't deny that the idea sounded like heaven.

Your face transformed to pure lust as you grabbed their hands, dragging them both to your bedroom. Aris locked the door behind him, the idea of being caught causing him to blush from head to toe.

Pushing you against the wall, Minho smashed his mouth against yours, his hands traveling up your shirt. You moaned as he grabbed one of your tits. His other hand was behind your head as he pushed his tongue in your mouth.

Pulling away, he tugged his shirt off while you did the same. As he undressed you grabbed Aris’s hand. His eyes traveled down your body and your black bra before he shook his head.

“It's okay, love. You can look,”You promised, wrapping your arms around him. He managed a nod before you kissed him, lightly tangling your hands in his hair. He loosely grabbed your waist, holding you close as you deepened the kiss, tasting him for a second before pulling away.

“So what exactly is the plan here?”You asked.

“I give the rough sex, he gives the soft sex,”Minho clarified, undoing his belt.

“Ah. Dom v.s sub,”You nodded.

“Exactly,”He shrugged, taking his pants off, his boxers following. You undid your bra until Aris spun you around, his hands on your jean buttons.

“Can I?”He checked.

“Yes,”You breathed out.

He undid them, unzipping your jeans before pulling them to the floor. You untied your shoes, slipping them off as he pulled your panties down.

You stepped out of your clothes before walking over to Minho who was naked. He grabbed your waist before pushing you under him, his lips on your neck. You moaned as he sucked on it before biting down, causing you to whimper.

“You're sure you want this?”He asked against your skin.

“Yes. I’m sure,”You promised. Even though this had never even crossed your mind before, you already loved it.

“Okay. Then, bend over,”Minho demanded. Doing as he said, you got in doggy position, waiting for him to fill you up.

Gripping your waist, he carelessly slammed into you, making you moan. Sliding in and out, he grunted as he fucked you, his hands tangling in your hair.

Aris watched, his hands on his cock as he pumped himself at the sight, biting his lip as he did.

Increasing his pace, Minho ruthlessly thrusted into you, causing you to cry out as your body shook. You clenched around him as you felt a pressure in your lower stomach.

“Oh Minho. Fuck, fuck, fuck,”You moaned.

“Shuck. You're so tight,”He groaned, twitching inside of you. Your breathing got heavier as your eyes shut. A whimper left you as you came all over his cock. A whine left Aris as he climaxed at the sight.

Groaning, Minho pulled your hair as he slammed into you again, finishing inside of you.

Knowing whose turn it was, he pulled out. You sat on the edge of the bed as he softly kissed you for a moment.

As he pulled away you walked over to Aris, taking his hand as you guided him to the bed. You lightly pushed his chest, sitting him on the edge.

“You gonna be good for me?”You asked, your hand gently caressing his face. He managed a nod.

Sitting on his lap, you grabbed his hard cock, positioning it inside of you. Slowly, you sunk down, wrapping your arms around him as your face buried in his neck. Holding your waist, heavy breaths left him as you slid up and down on his dick.

“You feel so good, love. So, so good,”You whispered in his ear before kissing his neck. His grip on your hips tightened as he whined, his eyes shut in pleasure.

“You're doing so well. So good,”You praised before lightly grazing your teeth against his skin. He moaned at the praise, twitching inside of you. With a groan leaving you, you bit down on his skin as you tightened around him, causing him to whimper as he came inside of you. Sliding up and down on his cock one last time, your teeth completely sunk into his skin as you finished, leaving a dark mark on his pale skin.

Getting off of him, you held his face in your hands as you kissed his lips. He gently kissed back, his hand under your jaw while the other held himself up in the bed.

As you pulled away, Minho approached you. Walking back to his spot, Aris watched as he bent you over the bed.

He positioned his dick with your pussy before pushing into you. You moaned as he pulled out and pushed into you harsher, his hands tangled in your hair again. You moaned at the time, enjoying it a surprising amount.

Groaning, one of his hands harshly gripped your waist as he sped up, his thrust absolutely desperate.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,”You breathed out, your hands gripping the sheets. With your eyes clenched shut, you felt an all too familiar knot in your stomach yet again. “I’m-I’m close,”You sputtered out.

Grunting, he found himself twitching inside of you. He pulled your hair a little harder, causing you to cry out.

“Cum. Cum for me,”He said through breathy moans.

Whining at his words, you finished at the same time as him. As he pulled out, you stayed where you were, your pussy dripping all the way down your thighs with your cum and both of theirs.

It wasn't over yet though.

Grabbing Aris's hand again, you pushed him in the bed. Running your hands up and down his chest, you admired the subtle outline of his abs.

“If you're too sore, we can stop,”He promised.

“I’m okay. I promise I'll tell you if it's too much,”You assured him.

He nodded at your words until you pushed yourself into him. A groan left him as you pushed your chest against his, your face resting in his neck as you slid up and down on his cock. A deeper groan left him as you found both his hands. Sliding them in yours, you firmly locked your fingers together before placing them beside his head.

Breathing heavily, he pushed his waist up, thrusting deeper into you. Finding his lips, you kissed him, your tongue slipping inside his warm mouth. Moaning against your lips, he pushed his waist up again as your grip on his hands tightened before you pulled them both above his head and wrapped your hand around both his wrist.

Whimpering in your mouth, he found himself twitching inside of you as you tightened around him. Both your thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until you finished.

Pulling away, you took deep breaths as you were completely filled up. With your eyes half shut, you let go of his wrists, as you rolled over on your back, running a hand through your hair.

“That was fun,”You breathed out.

“Which one was better though?”Minho asked, putting only his boxers on as Aris found his shirt.

“You know, I wasn't really paying attention. I guess we’ll have to do it again another time,”You grinned, standing up and finding your clothes. Grabbing your panties, you slid them on your waist before putting a looser shirt over on.

Crawling back into bed, you slipped under the covers as you made sure to be in the middle. Minho was the first to join you, placing his hand over your stomach as he gently kissed your neck. Crawling in on the other side, Aris pulled the blankets up as he gently ran his hands through your hair while he littered your face with kisses.

Next time was gonna be even better. You were just sure of it.

You just had no idea how Aris was going to cover the marks you left on his, but that was a problem for the morning. For now, you just wanted to enjoy the sweetness that came after the sex.

[fizzigigsimmer]

A Loyal Servant

A continuation of this little ficlet. This is crack treated seriously. So don't take it too seriously.

~*~

Fuck it.

That’s what Billy’s lips say as the blonde stands suddenly from the bed, pushing himself up from his splayed position. 

Steve smiles in triumph at yet again successfully reading Billy’s lips. He’s gotten really good at it, and it’s almost his favorite game now. Right up there with guessing what the blond will do next. When he gets up, will it be a shower this morning or will he continue the no bathing streak? Will he make himself toast and leave the house before the other occupants wake, or will he stick around long enough to be subjected to his step-mother’s greasy fry up?

It should be boring as hell, spending so much time watching the same person, but somehow it just isn’t. Billy keeps Steve on his toes and always finds a way to throw him an unexpected curve ball. Steve still has no idea what he and Eddie get up to on Thursday evenings for instance. As the best supplier of black market ingredients in the area (not to mention party drugs) years ago a powerful witch put a ward on Eddie’s trailer to keep away uninvited guests.

So every Thursday Billy goes to see Eddie and Steve has no idea weather it’s to get blitzed,fucked, or to braid each other’s hair. They could be summoning the legion in that trailer for all he knows, and it really really bugs Steve that he can’t get close enough to know, and that there’s this one part of Billy’s life he doesn’t know. He knows what brand of toothbrush Billy uses and that too much dairy gives him the shits, but not what he does with Eddie Munson. 

Robin thinks Steve is obsessed with Billy Hargrove. Honestly that’s fair. Steve’s under no delusions that his current occupation - parked across the street from Billy’s home on cherry street with his eyes glued to the pair of opera glasses she enchanted for him, watching the other teen undress - is anything less than obsessive and, yeah, just a little creepy. 

He wonders which Billy would take more of an objection to. The whole stalking thing has to be objectively less creepy than Billy being abducted while he slept, hoodwinked by horny sex fog, and having sex with a guy possessed by satan, right? But whatever Billy, Robin, or anyone else for that matter might think of it, Steve actually has a perfectly good reason to be stalking Billy Hargrove. Several in fact.

The first reason is appearing right now as the blond stands in front of his bedroom mirror and peels off the grease stained sweatshirt he’s been wearing for days, like it’s the only article of clothing he owns. Two perfect pectorals, areolas swollen and red, strain the white tank top he wears underneath.

Squinting Steve presses himself up against the door of his car, forehead against the window, smashing his borrowed scry glasses up against his eyes as he watches the way Billy’s chest wobbles a little and sways as he discards his top. 

Fuck. Fuck,fuck,fuck. They’re definitely bigger than they were last week, Steve determines, swallowing and licking his dry lips. Because of the panic, obviously. 

He’s not perving. Billy’s tits are not the good reason he has to stalk him. Well, yes, they are, but not that way. It’s the fact that Billy’s perfect tits are also perfectly male, but they are still growing, that he’s taking note of here. Not comically large. Not enough for anyone to notice as long as Billy is wearing loose clothing (hence the unforgivable sweatshirt) but definitely a noticeable change when he’s naked.

The fact that Steve’s dick is hard right now is irrelevant. He’s a nineteen-year-old horny idiot. He gets hard at the thought of breakfast. But since he’s not a dirtbag, he can totally be the hero that Hargove doesn’t even know he needs right now even with a stiffy. It’s called multitasking. 

Because the second good reason that Steve has to be stalking Billy Hargrove, is that Steve is pretty damn sure Billy is going to have his baby. Well technically it’s the devil’s baby, but he used Steve’s seed as a conduit so it still counts in Steve’s book.

Anyway, it’s actually part of their duties, after the ritual, to watch the brides and report back at the first sign of fruit. So technically Steve was just doing the job he’s been prepared for all his life. As a male witch Steve’s place in the coven has always been contingent on his ability to be useful. The devil doesn’t suffer fools gladly and Steve’s not good enough at magic to ever dream of being called a full warlock.

He’s a decent conductor which allows him to take on spirits or transfer them to others with ease, which means he can at least make for an excellent familiar. Serving the devil’s servants is nowhere near as exciting or important as serving the devil himself but it’s a living. It’s mostly digging graves and providing his mistress with strength and protection while she’s at her spell work. It really is his muscle, along with obedience and big dick that are useful to his coven sisters, and that’s okay. Steve has never minded the expectation that he wouldn’t amount to being more than a familiar, or the thought of finding a nice witch to devote himself to so they can pop out babies to strengthen the devil’s army. 

Nancy’s a very talented witch, who is already rising quickly in the ranks of the coven, and unlike his previous mistresses she actually seems to like Steve just as much as a human as a cat. Steve’s down for the whole henchman boyfriend gig if he knows his partner respects him. He’s a human being with feelings after all and not actually a pet. Though it’s pretty hot when Nancy calls him that, he can’t lie. 

But not if he gets kicked out of the coven for completely fucking up their single most important ritual, Nancy can’t be his mistress anymore. So for a minute there back in the room with Billy, Steve really had been convinced his life was over. But they’d completed the ritual with no one even having a clue that there had ever been a hiccup, all thanks to Billy. So if Steve is a little obsessed with Billy after the fact it’s because the guy is a genius and Steve like, owes him his life. You know?

Even while mind numbingly horny Billy had been able to figure out that the foundation of the ritual was in the planting, so to speak, and it didn’t seem to matter whether the soil was fertile or not.

That’s like, impressive. Even Robin thinks so (or else she wouldn’t have agreed to help him on what she thought was a pointless errand by enchanting her grandmother's opera glasses). 

Anyway. The point he’s trying to prove to himself here is, Steve is stalking Billy Hargrove because he is a decent guy, not because he can’t stop replaying the night they spent together over and over again in his mind. 

He wishes (not for the first time) that Billy hadn’t taken to keeping the blinds on his window closed. The cat demon doesn’t give a shit what Billy Hargrove looks like naked, but Steve’s feeble human mind certainly does. Like, he literally can’t stop thinking about it. He pretty much has to bite his lip to keep from getting a stiffy about once an hour because he gets caught up, remembering the way Billy felt - ass clenching as Steve ground his hips in circles, driving these perfect high pitched little mewls of desperation past the blonds lips as he satisfied the mutual need for ‘right there!’

But that’s because he’s nineteen and horny. Not because of Billy. Not because Steve like wants to devote his soul to him or anything. Objectively yes, he wouldn’t turn down sleeping with him again if it was on the table, but like, who would? Munson wouldn’t. Eddie is probably fucking Billy’s brains out every thursday like clockwork, because who can resist that ridiculously perky ass and those warm weighty thighs gripped around their waist once they’d had it?

An ominous click warns him that if he presses any harder on the opera glasses he’s going to break them and Steve takes a deep breath.

He’s cool. He’s calm. Because he doesn’t give a shit who Billy sleeps with. He’s a loyal and devoted servant, whose heart and soul belong to his mistress and thereby the prince of darkness. Steve has been stalking Billy for weeks now because it’s his job to follow the bride and watch for signs of coming of the anti-christ, and even if Billy can’t actually get pregnant there’s always the chance that being magically roofied and fucked by a dude possessed by the devil could traumatize him, and Steve’s not a total dick. No other reasons. Period.

Watching Billy Hargrove is the decent thing to do. You don’t do your damndest to knock someone up, and then just not check up on them. And yes, admittedly following him for this long was total overkill, but Nancy has been really deep in her studies lately and hasn’t called for him in ages. Billy at least is entertaining. Talk about an enigma. Hargove is a mess. So weird, so gross, but he’s also kinda hilarious too, and softer than he lets on to people. 

Also, he’d already proved to Steve once, he’s really stupidly smart and that’s always kinda sexy. Steve bet Billy could even keep up with Nancy. It’s such a shame he’s not a warlock, because if those two could team up he’s pretty sure they could bring on armageddon all by themselves. 

Fuck. His half chub is becoming a full hard on so it’s pretty obvious now's not the time to indulge in that little fantasy. It would be so much easier to convince himself he’s not being totally stupid and falling for some clueless non-believer who would totally lose their shit if they knew half of the things that were normal in Steve’s world, if he could just turn into a cat and sit on the man’s window sill like he had in the beginning.

Steve’s had to clean come stains off of his dashboard more than once this week and it’s all Billy’s fault. The dude is allergic to shirts and spends more time naked in his bedroom than any single person has a right to. Even with the blinds closed, like who seriously lounges around naked so much? If Steve didn’t know any better he’d say Hargrove was doing it on purpose. Which obviously he doesn’t. He’d have to be a pretty powerful warlock to sense he was being scryed on. 

No. Steve is ninety-nine percent certain that Billy Hargrove is just another tragically clueless mortal soul, who has no memory of the night they spent together and no idea that Steve has been shadowing him ever since. 

And it’s a very good thing Steve is so committed to stalking Billy - even going so far as to beg his best friend to create scry glasses for him - because if Steve hadn’t been stalking Billy, he’d have no idea right now just how royally screwed he is. 

Because impossible as it should be, Steve is almost a hundred percent positive that Billy Hargrove is pregnant. 

[empressofmankind]

BEGGARS SHAN'T BE CHOOSERS - Part I

[Crocodile x F!OC]

SFW

(A/N) Better known as the 'Impel Down' fic, I kept mentioning the past two weeks. This is Part One. Of five? Of ten? I've given up. The total draft was > 12k. So, I split it in 3x 4k. And then, I noticed today the 'first part' had grown to >7k. So, I've split it again. I have a clear end in mind, but how long it'll take me to get there...

Originally, this fic was meant to focus around Buggy, but then a 2.53m unit of absolute bullshit got in the way. Shivs and her world class plans, good gods. Post-Alabaste, the mens are stuck in Impel Down. Shivs is dead set on springing the clown from prison. However, she'll first need to figure out where they're keeping him. On account of his devil fruit powers, she suspects level 6. And she has an excellent alibi to demand visitation to level 6. For once, the legal quagmire of technically still being married to Crocodile is going to work for her. Right? RIGHT??

In this first part, we'll join Shivs and Benji (and Mani!) as they get ready to, and make their way for, Impel Down. That's it, that's all that happens, and it took me near 4k. I am so long-winded. It's a terminal condition, I know.

Tag(s): Considering this is the entré, there isn't actually much to tag for? There's fluff and humour. There's a 10-year-old running around saying the absolute funniest shit as things go straight over her head. We got Mani the scaly golden retriever Bananawani along? Oh, and one (1) good marine.

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Beggars Shan't Be Choosers - Part I

“They're stupid clothes,” Benji said, her brow wrinkling with petulant annoyance. She was wearing a crispy white dress shirt, a green-on-ochre striped vest and grey slacks. She'd refused a dress of any sort. Her flame orange hair was neatly brushed and her small face wasn't covered in grease paint for once.

“I think you look handsome,” Shivs said as she pinned her own red hair up with a two-pronged kanzashi fashioned with golden lotuses whose inlaid blue diamonds had not seen the light of day in years.

“I look stupid.”

“Look. I am not comfortable in my clothes either,” Shivs said and indicated the mid-thigh sheath dress of black lace on dark grey broadcloth she wore. She'd decided on sheer stockings to go with it, but no gloves. 

“You look pretty in them.”

Shivs turned back to the mirror to finish pinning her hair and adjusting her bangs to fall neatly from under the strings of her eyepatch. “That is the idea, yes.”

Benji put her hands in her pockets, kicking her foot, making squeaky noises against the deck boards. “What am I supposed to look like? I don't want to be pretty.”

“You are supposed to look like the most capable and well-behaved child to ever grace the Blue.” Shivs pinched her cheek, gilt bangles jangling. “And you do when you don't stand with your hands wearing out your pockets like that.”

Benji took her hands out of her pockets. They idled a moment, undecided, but then she clasped them behind her back. “Your neck looks naked.” 

Shivs laughed at that because the bateau neckline of the dress could certainly use something. “Yours too.”

She plucked one of Buggy's patterned neck scarves from a drawer and tied it around her daughter's neck, tucking the ends into the vest. “There.”

“You should wear a pretty necklace,” Benji said, though her eyes were on the scarf. She seemed to like that, at least.

Shivs didn't have all that many necklaces conventionally considered ‘nice’. Going through the few she had in her thoughts, she picked up her modest jewellery box. Then paused as her gaze lingered on the bottom drawer of her vanity. Maybe she should… She pulled the drawer open and reached among clothes she rarely wore, patting around until she found the old music box.

Its silver had blackened with age and negligence, but even so, its delicate engravings of waves and tall ships were fine. If she polished it now, the oxidation remaining in the fine creases would help pick out its details better than ever before. She didn’t, of course. And she didn’t open the lid either. She couldn’t remember if it was wound up, and didn’t want to hear its melody if it was.

Instead, she held it with both hands and turned its engraved body as if removing a lid from a jar. With a click, the top section came off. Within the tiny compartment revealed lay a small, gold hoop with a bent hinge. She’d long since let the earlobe puncture it used to occupy close. Taking a thin string from her jewellery box, she suspended it from that instead.

“Like so?” Shivs asked, drawing Benji’s attention as she fastened it around her neck.

“Don’t you have anything sparklier, like your hair thing?”

Shivs brushed the kanzashi. Though the era of having such things aplenty was long behind her, she was loath to detract from the last one that remained to her with lesser gems. Besides, he’d notice.

“Sadly, no.”

“Oh?” Benji gave her the thumbs up. “Gold is pretty too, I guess!”

Part of the reason she’d picked it was that it was 24-carat gold. Just like the kanzashi.

“Can I do your makeup?”

“Only if you do not turn me into a clown,” Shivs said as she sat down at her vanity so the girl could reach her face. Benji grinned and set to work.

When Benji declared she was done, Shivs turned to the mirror and had to admit the little girl was now officially better at this than her. She’d gone for a dark burgundy smokey eye with a flawlessly thin line of gold right at the root of her eyelashes and a touch of white on the waterline. It made the hazel of her good eye pop like nobody’s business. She was pretty sure the dark red lipstick was Buggy’s favourite to use himself.

“I like it,” Shivs said and Benji beamed. “Now, I just need shoes.”

“I'll fetch some!” 

Benji was up and running out of the cabin before Shivs could protest. It was only a few minutes before the girl returned, clutching shoes in her arms. And not just any shoes, either. She held up gold-tinted, faux leather gladiator sandals with six-inch stiletto heels that would be a trick and a half to walk on. Where had she even found those?

“These will look awesome with your hair thing and necklace!”

She didn’t disagree as she put them on, but hoped the floors of Impel Down would be neatly packed concrete and nothing else. She hadn’t walked on heels like these in half a decade. Throwing a long bridge coat the rosy beige of dunes about her shoulders, she turned to the floor-length mirror.

Benji looked her up and down with the pinched expression of a critical, pint-sized costume designer grading their latest creation. “You look very pretty.”

Benji wasn’t wrong. She did look nice. Her mood sank, settling like an anchor in the pit of her stomach. She looked like his wife.

“Why is it OK to lie today?”

“It's not a lie.” Shivs shook the morose feeling and picked up her small black bag, its gilded chain rattling as she double checked its content. “More like, hm.”

“Make believe?”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is,” Shivs said as she snapped the bag closed and hung it from her shoulder. “It will be easier to convince them to let us visit if we look the way they’d expect.”

“Why would they let us visit uncle Crocodile? Aren’t those visits for, like, if you’re his mom or sister or baby or something?” Benji’s small face was filled with healthy scepticism, hands in her pockets once again. “We should pretend he’s my dad.”

Shivs flinched and struggled to keep her smile from faltering. “Well, only if we have to.”

“They’d have to be pretty bad people to stop a kid from visiting their father.” Benji took her hand. “I hope uncle Crocodile knows where dad is.”

“I am sure he knows.” Shivs gave Benji’s hand a squeeze. She’d no idea how she’d find out where Buggy was if Crocodile didn’t know. She couldn’t exactly demand that information on legal grounds like she had done with him. “Is Mani ready, too?”

“Yes! I scrubbed her squeaky clean and even picked her teeth and scales. She’s eaten and done a big poop.” Shivs tried to let the girl’s bubbly chatter lift her spirits. “I borrowed one of Richie’s sparkly collars and she looks flashy in it!”

“Sparkly? That sounds amazing.”

“It is! She likes sparkly things.”

“Let’s fetch her then and go before we are too late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they left the cabin. “How can we be late for an appointment we didn’t make?”

“We can be late for the only ship going there today.”

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Benji had wanted to stand upon the prow as the government ship approached the Gate of Justice out of Enbies Lobby, because the skipper had said the Tarai current that would see them to Impel Down was chock full of sea kings. Shivs sat on a deck chair with a glass of wine, watching the girl run back and forth with binoculars she’d weedled from a matelot. On account of the seastone laminated hull, she doubted they would see any. However, there was no need to dunk on her chipper mood.

They were not the only visitors, more had trickled aboard to form a modest but motley company on the deck. She’d caught snippets of conversations as they walked by: a mother visiting her son; a brother, his sister. And she had a good guess what some of them were whispering about as they stole glances her way. She’d neglected to list any details regarding who they’d be visiting, but, in hindsight, she supposed the pony-sized bananawani lounging beside her gave it away. 

She’d tied Mani’s rhinestone-infested lilac leash to her chair leg, to discourage the reptile from wandering or - worse - deciding to take a swim. Not that she had any illusion as to its ability to pull the chair straight from under her if it wanted to go. But Mani was a creature of habit and minimal effort. A minor inconvenience such as this would be enough to keep her snoozing on the deck.

“Spotted any big ones?” Shivs said when Benji came towards her for a sip of lychee ramune.

“Not yet.” Benji plopped down beside Mani, putting her skinny arm around her scaly neck as she slurped lemonade. “Did you know bananawani hunt sea kings?”

“Really?” 

Shivs remembered the way the casino halls would darken as they swam by, their shadows passing beyond the glass as they glided towards the feeding platform. The unwitting sea king never stood a chance.

“They are their only known predator and totally hunt them,” Benji babbled happily while enjoying her drink. Mani’s eyes were still closed, but she’d shifted to lean into the little girl’s petting. “Do you think sea king tastes good?”

The water would run red but only for a short while, only until the currents whisked it away. Theoretically, the creature could make it out for the Rainbase oasis connected to the Sandora river.

“I bet Mani would prefer sea king chow,” Shivs said.

“I don't think they sell that at the pet stores.” Benji pouted as she hugged Mani. “She won’t be able to have a sea king snack until she’s big enough to hunt them herself.”

Hopefully, that would take a while yet. Bananawani could grow to colossal sizes, dwarfing mid-class tall ships. Shivs had no idea what they were supposed to do with a fully grown one. Or how to afford feeding the beast if there was no prey for her to hunt on her own. Rain Dinners’ bananawani never hunted alone.

Benji emptied her bottle with a big, noisy slurp, waking Mani. “Maybe we should have brought something?”

“A deck would have been nice,” Shivs said as she watched them. “We could have played slapjack.”

“No, I mean, for uncle Crocodile?” 

Shivs flinched.

“You always say that it is nice to bring something when you visit someone. Especially if you want something from them in turn?” Benji scrunched up her face, rubbing Mani’s thick scaly neck. “I have, like, half a bag of marshmallows, but I didn’t think to bring them.”

“I have something for him, don’t worry about it.”

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Impel Down was a fortress as ugly as it was unimaginative. It spilled onto the rapidly approaching horizon as a grey stain overtaking the limitless freedom of the open sea. And as they drew near on the Tarai current, its squat towers and crenellated battlements came into ever sharper focus until they dominated their entire surroundings. Curiously, there were no cannon embrasures, machicolations or any such defences one might expect from a proper bastion. 

A fleet of warships rested at anchor along the approach to the underwater prison. The modest passenger ship they were on was dwarfed by the marine dreadnoughts they passed as the current pulled them inexorably towards the prison’s colossal gatehouse.

Benji had returned to the prow for the approach, and Shivs joined her there.

“It’s so huge!” Benji stared wide-eyed at the thick walls as they sailed under the barbican and into the secured harbour proper beyond. Mani sat beside her, holding her own leash.

“The vast majority of the complex is actually underwater.” Shivs counted the cannons peeking down at them through the embrasures, out of habit more than anything. She wondered if they had a standing firing crew to man them.

“Are we going underwater?” Benji hopped from one leg unto the other. “The Calm Belts are supposed to be full of Sea Kings! Maybe there will be a window, and I can see one? Maybe there will be wild Bananawani too!”

“It is a prison, so I don’t think there will be windows,” Shivs said in an attempt to calm the girl’s excitement and avoid utter disappointment if that turned out to be true. “It does reach quite a ways below the water surface. A few kilometres, perhaps? Yes, I think so.”

“Wow.” Turning to Mani, Benji added: “Let's find a window, I bet there will be wild Bananawani! You can say ‘hi’!”

Shivs took her by the shoulder when she saw the other visitors disembark. “Come, let’s not be late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they walked to the gangplank. “For the visit we didn-?”

“Don’t say that,” Shivs interrupted her with a quelling look.

“Right.” Benji smiled again and took Mani’s leash. “Come on Mani. Can’t be late!”

They were funnelled through the gatehouse and into a courtyard patrolled by marine sentries. Here, too, cannons peered through embrasures on all sides. Evidently, the prison was more concerned about threats to its security rising from within than without.

“Visitors for level 1 and 2 inmates, that way,” a young marine officer said as he gestured to a colleague. “Level 3 and up, with me.” The few people that joined them as they went to the marine officer gave the juvenile Bananawani plodding beside them a wide breadth. 

The officer led them up steps and into an wholly uninviting lobby. With its worn plaster walls and dirty grey linoleum floor it did its very best to make you want to leave as soon as possible. No seats, no plants, no windows, no nothing. 

“Registration check.” The marine officer motioned them towards the looming concrete counter on the other side of the unpleasant space. “In an orderly manner, gentlefolk.”

Benji put her arm around Mani, leaning into the large reptile and putting her nose against its scales as she eyed their casually hostile surroundings.

“What’s his name?” The marine officer’s tone was amiable, conversational.

“Hers!” Benji said, holding on tighter to the Bananawani.

He tried to catch her gaze with a smile. “Big girls, both of you.”

“Her name is Mani.”

“Ah, ‘she who averts harm’,” he said, and Shivs appreciated his attempts to make Benji feel comfortable. “A wise choice for such a hardy animal.”

“She’s very sweet and tough,” Benji agreed as she snuggled Mani. “I love her.”

“I am sure she loves you very much too.”

“What is your name?” Benji asked. “Mine is Benji!”

“Nice to meet you, Benji,” the young marine said. “Mine is Toby.”

By then it was their turn, and Shivs approached the desk. It was higher than such things normally were, for she was not a particularly short woman and yet she need not bend down to meet the registrar’s gaze.

“State your name and purpose?” the woman said, hands poised to take down the information.

“Figarland Seonaid. Conjugal visit,” Then added when she saw her transcribe it as ‘Sheona’: “That is without the H, and spelled with N-A-I-D.”

The registrar gave a sign of neither interest nor recognition. “Visiting?”

“Crocodile Niall.”

The woman paused when she heard that name. And Shivs ignored the whispers she could not quite catch from those behind her in line.

“Niall. N-I-A-L-L. Not ‘Nile’.”

The registrar flipped through a thick binder, finger running down a table packed with dense handwriting. “No visitation registered.”

“Preposterous,” Shivs said, overacting an affronted tone. “A signed request for visitation has been approved weeks ago.” 

“There is no record of it, ma'am.”

Benji let go of Mani to fling her arms around Shivs’ waist instead, and gave the registrar and marine officer her most watery of wobbly baby looks. “Mommy, I want to see daddy!”

Shivs rubbed her shoulder, giving the registrar the pleading look of parents the world across trying to desperately manage a child on the brink of wailing. Benji's little sob into the fabric of her dress was very convincing. Mani paced around them, uncertain but riled by the sudden change of mood.

“Can't you put in an expedited request?” Shivs suggested, trying her damndest to sound sincere. “She'd been looking forward to it, and we get so few chances.”

“No registration, no visitation,” the woman said as Benji took in a breath to start a wail.

Toby shook his head. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he produced a small, earpiece Den Den Mushi and put the sea snail against his ear. A few transmissions later, he turned to the registrar and held up his hand. “Two visitor badges, please.”

With due reluctance the registrar handed them over to him and he turned to Benji. “There you go, kiddo,” he said as he gave her one, and then Shivs as well. “Courtesy of the vice-admiral making the curator see reason.”

“You're the best!” Benji beamed. “Look, mom, I am number 17! What is yours?”

Shivs looked at the scuffed 13 on the badge. It reminded her of a poker table she used to deal at, and the memory settled in the pit of her stomach like a fetch of cannon balls. “Not as high as yours, sweetie.”

“Come, I will see you two down to the right level,” Toby said, and led them to the elevator room beyond the lobby. There were four, two on the left and two on the right. He took them to the far right one, the doors opening as they approached.

“Awesome!” Benji said as she rushed inside, Mani hot on her heels. For the elevator was made entirely of armoured glass and provided a grand view of the ocean sprawling all the way across the horizon. The afternoon sun kissed the waves, setting sparkles to the white-capped water. And Shivs felt it beckon in her bones. 

Benji gave him a hopeful look. “Are we going underwater?”

“We are,” Toby said as he put a key in the control panel and turned it.

When the doors slid closed, Shivs suppressed the sudden and overwhelming urge to get out, to leave and never look back. To stay at the surface, where they belonged. I have to, she told herself as she clenched her hands into fists around the chain of her handbag. Bugs is down there, and he hates the dark beneath the waves.

The elevator jolted to life and Shivs closed her eyes, ignoring the sound of the lapping waves against the glass as they submerged, focussing on Benji’s excited noises instead. When she opened them again, they were enveloped in blue. Sunlight still penetrated, sending curtains of light through the water. Less so with every foot they descended, as the blue grew deeper, darker.

“A Sea King!” Benji screamed, spooking Mani as she glued herself against the glass. In the far distance, blurred in the shifting hues of the blue, swam a long, serpentine creature, its body undulating as it made its way from somewhere to elsewhere. 

“It could be the Prince of the Deep,” Toby said as he came to stand beside her. “It has about the right shape. Colour too, perhaps.”

Benji glanced at him, her eyes large and eager. “Prince?”

“Yes, because he is a prince among his kind. The largest Sea King in this part of the Calm Belt,” Toby said. “Ten times larger than Coral Grove, our largest dreadnought.”

“Wow.” Benji pressed her face against the glass. “Mani could snack on that for years.”

“Wouldn’t it be tough for her to hunt such a large creature?” Toby said, not without humour.

Benji rolled her eyes. “Not right now, she’s a baby. But she’ll be big and strong one day! Bananawani hunt Sea Kings, did you know?” she said and babbled the poor marine’s ears off about the large reptiles for some minutes.

As the armoured glass elevator descended to deeper water, their surroundings became steadily darker. Shivs put her gaze on the glass floor and the pitch black abyss below. It was easier to face the darkness approaching than the light receding, the sparkle of the sun on the water surface dwindling as you sank. The sea has never been friendly to man.

Beside her, Benji had put her arm around Mani as she looked up. No more sea kings down here.

“The 6th level is also called ‘The Basement’,” Toby said, making the girl glance away from the ever more distant sunlight. “Do you know why?”

Ghosts in the attic and monsters in the basement, Shivs thought as she recalled the sailors’ idiom about grief with its haunting memories and stowed feelings.

Benji eyed him, holding on to Mani still. “Because it's dark and far down?”

Because nobody goes there if they can help it. Shivs stared at the watery dark beneath their feet. The sea floor might never come and she'd not be surprised.

“Nope!” Toby said, his smile bright in the dimming light. “Because it is where all the cool people stay.”

Benji’s mood lit up. “My unc- Dad, is super cool! He's actually made out of sand, like, for real.”

“Are you made out of sand?”

Shivs gaze snapped onto him like a hawk. He was looking at Benji, fondness soft on his youthful face. He couldn't be much older than 20 or 22.

“I don't think so?” Benji let go of Mani to brush at her clothes, then glanced at him. “Do you want to pet her?”

Toby smiled. “Absolutely.”

🐊 🐊 🐊 

Horny hell seat reservations - @tiredemomama @smut-goblin @ruledbyproblematique @momodwriter @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @feral-artistry - except there's no horny. Croc isn't even in it either. I feel like a cheat.

[blooming-violets]

CREATURE LIKE ME || CHAPTER EIGHT: PYRRIHIC VICTORY

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Story Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

[link to chapter index]

A woodchipper. 

That’s what her body felt like it had been shoved through. 

She had been wrapped up and pushed through the spinning blades until she was nothing more than bloody pulp. 

“Fuck me,” she groaned. 

Aylin forced her stiff, heavy lids to open. A layer of sleep crusted over her lashes, making it difficult to see. She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand to clear them. When they finally came into focus, she was nose to nose with wide, golden eyes staring expectantly back at her. Black, sleek fur rubbed against her forehead as her cat, Kedi, rammed face first into her head with a long, drawn out whine. 

“Yes, good morning to you, too,” she grumbled. 

“It’s actually evening. You slept almost 16 hours. Thought you might not ever wake up.” 

A familiar voice popped up from behind her. 

Aylin rolled over, wincing from the shooting pains electrifying her body, to find Peter sitting on the edge of her bed. Except this wasn’t her bed. She glanced around the small room and recognized it as the same motel she brought Peter on the night they met. She could tell because of how cheap and ugly the decor was; like it had been redecorated once in the early 70’s then never touched again. It had the same musty smell of mold and stale cigarette smoke that she remembered so well. The thick, avocado green curtains were drawn closed so the only source of light was the flashing colors from the television. He had kept it on silent, probably so as not to disturb her sleep, and he was sitting as far off the edge of the bed as he could without being on the floor. She noticed the only chair in the room was propped up under the door knob as an added line of defense to keep anyone out. 

Peter was wearing one of her brother’s old, navy blue sweatshirts and gray joggers she had brought him to try on a few days ago. A pair of run down work boots lay tossed against the back wall as if he had nonchalantly kicked them off his feet after he got settled. Her brother’s borrowed clothes seemed to fit well enough. It was strange seeing him wear Emir’s things. It had been over five years since anyone had donned them. It was about time they got put to use instead of collecting dust in his bedroom tomb. It was also strange to see Peter wearing a shirt, regardless of who it once belonged to. Since she met him, he had always been shirtless.  

She sort of missed the view. 

Aylin glanced down at her own self to see what sort of disheveled state she was in. She had been respectfully covered with the hideously floral bedspread but, underneath, she was still in the same attire she’d fled in. Underwear to cover her lower half and tightly wrapped bandages to cover her top half. Nearly naked and covered in blood, dirt, and sweat. Funny how their roles had been reversed since the last time they had taken refuge in this motel. 

“Why is Kedi here?” She croaked through dry lips. She was in desperate need of water. 

Peter looked between her and the cat perched at her shoulder, “I’m guessing that's Kedi?”

She nodded. 

“Before you passed out, you were really upset about not being able to find your mother. You didn’t want to leave anyone behind when we ran,” he gave a sheepish shrug. “I assumed that meant taking the cat, too.” 

She raised her brows in surprise, “He let you pick him up and put him in the car?” 

Peter gave a weary glance back at Kedi and shook his head, “It didn’t go as smoothly as you’re making it sound…” He raised his arms to show off a myriad of red scratches clawing down his skin and pointed bite marks sunk into his hand. The cat had put up a good fight but it seemed Peter came out victorious. 

Aylin gave a soft chuckle of amusement, “Yeah. That sounds more like it.”

She looked over her shoulder to smile fondly at her cat, happy that he was safe with them, then turned back to Peter. “How’d you pay for this room?”

He shrugged again, chewing on the hard bit of calloused skin next to his thumb nail, “You had your wallet in the car. You also had a bunch of stuff packed into the trunk. I brought some of it in after I got you settled in bed.” 

She struggled to prop herself up onto her elbows to get into a sitting position but the pain was too much. She collapsed back onto the stiff mattress with a muffled whine. 

Peter scooted closer over to her and held out his arm for her to take, “Here. Let me help you.” 

He heaved her up with ease and held her steady until she was sitting on her own. His eyes raked over the red stained bandages wrapped around her chest and covering her back. She could tell it wasn’t the first time he had taken in the sight of her injuries but it still made him uncomfortable. He quickly averted his eyes when he noticed her watching him. 

“I knew something was wrong,” he whispered, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know how I knew it but I did. I kept telling myself to give you time to come back. You said it might take a while. But then it got to be past midnight. It’s almost a full moon, you know. In two nights. Everything feels stronger when it gets closer to a full moon. Maybe that’s how I knew. I felt some kind of intuition. It was like I was being pulled to find you. I still waited, though. I told myself it was just in my head. That I promised to wait for you at the camper.” He swallowed, sounding as culpable as she felt. “I should have looked for you sooner. I shouldn’t have let you go back there at all. I knew how dangerous Kraven was. I should have kept you safe. What happened when you went back? What did he do to you?”

Guilt rained down on her as the memories opened from the dark cloud above her head. Murderer. She had killed the Lycan girl. Stabbed her straight through the heart. Ripped her life from her without ever knowing her name. She was a murderous Silver Colt, born and raised, destined to be nothing more than an oven for her leader to stick his seed into. A plaything, perfectly groomed to his liking. Was any part of her real? Or was she entirely constructed to be the person he wanted her to be? 

She could feel Kraven’s hands all over her body. They lingered and clung to her skin like an unshakable memory. It made her feel sick. Dirty. She would have gladly taken Calypso with the whip over ever having to be in the same room with that man again. Calypso may have broken her body but Kraven had shattered her soul. Whatever dreamlike bliss she’d felt upon waking in the safety of this motel beside Peter had sizzled out faster than she could blink. He had become a beacon of hope for her to cling onto and a pleasant memory for her to dissociate to. 

But he wasn’t real. The Peter she dreamed of in that basement lived only in her labyrinth. The one sitting beside her was someone else. He was his own person. Not a perfect figment of her imagination. He felt liable for her safety only because she had saved him his captive fate. He was in her debt.  

She felt a vacant, numbness settle into the depths of her blackened mind as shadows crept around her sharp edges. Her escape from the basement was a pyrrhic victory. 

“Nothing happened,” she mumbled, her words sounding mechanical in her ears. “I’m fine.”

Aylin felt constricted in her every move. The dried blood, splattered over her, pinched at her skin. The wraps Calypso had done felt too tight. Her underwear was crusty and hard from the blood that dripped from her back and soaked through the fabric. Her hair was stiff and sticking to everything. She felt suffocated inside her own body. Not even the tall walls of her labyrinth were a safe place to linger for long. It had become polluted with the toxic chemicals Kraven had spilled over every part of her. She didn’t know who she was anymore. 

She needed to crawl out of her own skin. 

“I need a shower,” she stated. 

Peter’s eyes darted between her and the bed spread at his legs like he was afraid to keep her in his gaze for too long but equally afraid to have her out of it. She knew he didn’t believe a word she had said. She obviously wasn’t fine but he was either too shy, or too smart, to confront her on her claims. 

He nodded slowly as if every move he made was calculated to keep the peace between them, “What, uhm, what’s under the bandages?” He quickly added, trying to play it off like it was nothing more than a nonchalant question, “Just because it might hurt to put any wounds under running water. Are you sure you don’t want me to check on them first? Just to be safe?” 

Aylin ignored him and shoved herself to her unsteady feet with a grunt. Peter stood in sync with her, keeping a hand out to catch her should she fall, but not actually closing the gap to physically touch her. He kept his sights on his bare feet. He looked terrified to disrespect her by staring at her in just her underwear. He still didn’t know where he stood in her allegiance. The last time they spoke she had vacillated between being his friend and cursing him out with little warning. He wasn’t sure what wrong move he could make that would get him in trouble this time. 

She gave him a sad smile in the hopes to ease his concern. He didn’t need to be frightened of her. He had saved her life. He had done everything to erase his debt. She no longer considered herself a true Silver Colt. She would never be able to return to her home again which meant that she had no more use for him. No information he could give her would ever erase her knowledge that her entire life was a lie. He was free to leave whenever he wanted. 

“You don’t have to stay anymore, Peter,” she muttered under her breath, stopping halfway to the bathroom with him still hovering at her side. “I think we’re even now. I saved you. You saved me. You’re a free man. You’re not a prisoner. I don’t need you for information anymore. I’m not going to kill you. I refuse to. Our deal is over. Nothing matters, anyway. It was all for nothing. You can go.” 

Aylin leaned down to collect her duffle bag from the floor beside the television stand. It was sitting next to a case of water bottles and some camping food, her bucket of first aid supplies, and her crossbow. He had brought in everything that she could need for when she awoke, including a weapon to protect herself with if she felt the need too. When she tugged the strap of the bag over her sore shoulder, she straightened up to stare back, forcing herself to make eye contact with him.

Peter had a look that was hard for her to read. Apprehension. Dismay. Melancholy. Rejection. Confusion. They all flashed across his warm, brown eyes while he processed what she was saying. It hurt to see him like that but he deserved to be free. He didn’t need her. She was useless to him. 

“No,” his assertion was evident in his tone. “I’m staying.” 

Her heart sank with sorrow and an anger rose in her chest. She didn’t want him here. She didn’t want him to look at her with those pity filled eyes. She didn’t want to be responsible for another unnecessary death. Kraven would hunt her down and find her. He would slaughter anyone she was with. She would never be safe from his hold. People don’t get to leave the guild without consequences. She knew that now. Peter was better off on his own. 

“No, you aren’t. You’re leaving. Go,” she shot back. “I don’t want you here anymore. Thank you for getting me out and bringing me here but I no longer need you. You repaid your debt. You balanced the scales. You can go.”

He shook his head in defiance, “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere.” His arms crossed over his chest and he planted his feet firmly against the worn out, red carpet as if daring her to try and move him.

Aylin stomped her foot with annoyance, “There’s no point in you sticking around! You’re only going to get hurt. I bring death wherever I go! I’m the reason they’re all dead.” Her voice cracked but she kept her chin held high. “My father, my brother, probably my mother and Leah and her family, Sierra…that wolf girl…I’m…cursed. I’m not a good person. I’m a murderer. A fraud. I’m not anything you should be around. I only bring pain. It’s not worth it. Just go. You’ll be better off. ‘M gonna go wash up and when I come out, I hope you’re far, far away from here.” 

She turned on her heels, refusing to look any longer at his perturbed face stinging with rejection, and slammed the bathroom door behind her. The bag fell from her shoulder to the tiles under foot. Aylin nearly collapsed onto the edge of the sink, holding herself up with the palms of her hands, and hanging her head. 

She didn’t want Peter to leave her. Not really. He was the only friend she had in this world. He was the only one who could ever even attempt to understand her but she still felt the need to push him away. She was toxic. Every bit of her was shriveled up and soured. When she lifted her head to stare back at her reflection in the mirror, she didn’t recognize the woman on the other end. A stranger. Dark bags encircled her barren eyes. Red stained up her cheeks and over her lips. She pulled back the corner of her mouth and tilted her head to see the gap in her teeth. The top, second molar from the back on her left side was now nothing more than a bloody hole. She poked her tongue up into the gap, feeling the smoothness of her gums, and pressed it in harder to feel the jolt of pain. 

Pain was starting to become the only feeling she could accurately recognize. Everything else couldn’t be trusted. 

Aylin pushed away from the sink to strip herself from her soiled underwear. She kicked them into the trash before turning on the shower to heat up and taking a tender seat on the toilet. With the sound of the water pounding against the tub, she could no longer hear Peter standing outside the door. He had been pacing back and forth only moments ago but now there was nothing but silence. 

A pang of anxiety settled into her stomach at the thought of him actually leaving. There would be a chance that when she left this bathroom, she would be alone. Truly alone. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do then. Try to find her mother? Make sure she was safe? She couldn’t live in a motel forever. If she did end up finding her mom, they’d be homeless. It’s not like either of them had any work experience or life outside of the guild. She didn’t even think she had a social security number or was on any government records. Aylin didn’t exist outside of the Silver Colts. 

After she finished up on the toilet, she washed her hands the best she could. Her pinky and ring finger on her right hand were still tightly bound together and held straight by the splint. She was missing three finger nails on the same hand. The soft nail beds stung as she applied soap to them in an attempt to clean the blood. With her hands still dripping with water, she dug her toothbrush and toothpaste out from her bag to brush her teeth, careful to avoid the few in the back that ached with pain whenever the bristles got too close to the missing tooth. She desperately needed to rid the taste of Kraven from her mouth. She gulped down the water flowing from the sink to satiate her thirst and finally turned to the shower. 

Before stepping in, she wanted to remove her bandages. Everything needed to be cleaned. It wasn’t like Calypso washed her back before she threw the salve on it and bandaged her. Her body needed to be completely sanitized for her to feel human again. From looking behind her shoulder in the mirror, she could see where the end of the wrap was tucked into the middle of her back. She tried again and again to manipulate her arm around her back to grab at the end piece but it evaded her reach every time. Her shoulders were too sore from holding her body upright for hours. They ached with sharp stabs of pain each time she tried to reach the end of the bandage until tears pricked up in the corners of her eyes. 

All she wanted was to be clean. 

Aylin let out a frustrated yell and threw herself to the floor with the dramatics of a toddler throwing a tantrum. The tiles were dirty and cold under her bare bottom as she draped herself over the edge of the tub with her head cradled in her arms. She couldn’t do it. Everything she knew, her home, her people, her entire history, was ripped away from her. She had nowhere to go. Her mother was missing. She had no way of knowing if she got her note and escaped. There was no way to contact her. They didn’t have cell phones in the guild. They were cut off from society. Her mother could be anywhere. She could be in trouble and Aylin would never know. There was nothing left. 

She was an outcast. Banished from her people. A traitor. A pariah. 

She wasn’t part of the Silver Colts. She wasn’t part of the Lycans. She wasn’t part of the normal, human institution. She was no one. 

Loud, heavy sobs shook through her chest and blubbered out her mouth. Hot, fat tears poured down her cheeks and splashed to the floor. She had never cried like this before. She had never felt so vulnerable and lost. Even when her father and brother died, she had never been this broken. 

Adrift in the void of stray souls with no one to turn to. 

The bathroom door creaked open. Peter padded up softly behind her. She couldn’t move to look at him. His presence only made her cry harder. He should be gone. He should have run. His loyalty was misplaced. He was confused. 

She felt him quietly kneel down behind her and gently untuck the bandage from its hold. He carefully and silently unwrapped it around her until it lay in a bloody pile at her side. The tips of his warm fingers ghosted over the slashes from the whip as he took in the sight for the first time. She tried to gain back control of her sobs but it was useless. The flood gates had been released. 

Her wet eyes squeezed closed at his touch. So soft. So careful. He had no right to be this gentle with her. He should hate her for who she had been associated with. 

Peter’s hand landed on her shoulder, giving it a delicate squeeze. 

“Get up,” he whispered. “Let’s get you clean. You’ll feel more like yourself then. Trust me.”

Trust him. 

Aylin did. She trusted him more than anyone. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and allowed him to grip under her arms to help her stand. He guided her into the tub, keeping his eyes politely averted from her naked form, and waited until he felt she was stable enough before pulling his hands away. Slowly, he pushed the shower curtain closed to give her privacy. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

A fresh wave of tears hit her and she doubled over with more sobs under the weak stream of water, “Y-yeah.” When she heard him start to leave the bathroom, she called back out, letting the panic take over, “Wait! Peter…can you…can you stay with me? Don’t go…don’t leave me. I-I need you.” 

She could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I was never going to leave. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

He flipped the toilet seat closed and settled down on top of it. His long legs extended out to perch his feet on the edge of the tub. She could see the shower curtain pull tighter where they rested and felt a sense of calm settle in her mind now that she knew he was with her. 

Maybe she didn’t have to be alone. Peter was alone. They could be alone together. 

The water cascaded down her chest. She placed her face into the stream to scrub at her cheeks with her hands. Brown, dark blood washed from her body and circled around the drain. She was afraid to turn her back to the shower, knowing how badly it would hurt when the water hit her wounds, but she needed to wash the blood from her hair. 

“Are you alright?” Peter asked when he heard her muffled wince of pain as she turned around. 

Aylin smiled woefully to herself, lathering her scalp with the cheap motel shampoo, “It just hurts. I’ll be okay.” A few more lingering tears slipped down her face to mix in with the steaming water. The water pressure was weak but at least it was hot. Her guilt clung to her tighter than the steam clouding around her face. “Peter?” 

“Hmm?” 

Her eyes gazed down at the sun seared into her thigh. It was blistering with angry, red lines outlining the rays of the sun. The mark of a Silver Colt, the mark of Kraven, festering with a growing infection. “I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry I was a bitch to you. I’m sorry I was a part of the group of people who hurt you. I’m sorry I kept you when I should have let you go the day I found you. I’m sorry for promising to kill you and refusing to go through with it. I’m sorry for being a Silver Colt.” 

He was silent for a long time. She tenderly washed her body with the soap provided to her as she waited for his response, grazing over her wounds the best she could, and letting the water carry away her filth. With each passing moment under the stream, she cleansed herself further from Kraven. 

“I don’t blame you,” Peter finally whispered. She could hardly hear him over the shower. “You acted within the parameters you knew. You saved my life. You showed me that things could be different. I didn’t have to live the way I was. There was still something more out there. Everything was hopeless until I met you.” 

Was it no longer hopeless? 

She felt hopeless. Directionless. She couldn’t see the same vision he did. They were moving in opposite directions. 

“I don’t want to die anymore,” he stated with finality to his tone. 

She did. 

Aylin turned the knob of the shower to shut it off. The water sputtered to a halt, leaving her wet, dripping, and quickly chilling as the warm droplets cooled on her skin. 

Peter shuffled behind the curtain and soon a white towel poked through the side. She gladly took it, gently wiping herself dry. 

“I’ll be in the other room,” he said. “I’m going to set up the first aid kit for when you come out. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just be on the other side of this door.”

She listened for the light click to indicate the closing door before she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out. Condensation clung to the mirror. She whipped it away with the palm of her hand. She looked rough but there was a glimmer of Aylin staring back at her. Underneath all that blood and sweat, she was still human. Her red trimmed, puffy eyes stayed locked onto herself as she scrunched the water out of her long hair with the towel. 

There was still softness in the world despite what she had gone through. Peter was proof of that. He had stayed. He didn’t run the first chance he got. He wasn’t helping her because he felt like he was forced to. His compassion was able to extend further than his trauma. 

He didn’t want to die anymore. 

She wondered what caused that change.

Aylin knelt down to dig through her bag. She grabbed a pair of clean underwear and some loose fitting workout shorts. Anything else would rub against her brand. She was worried about the infection that was beginning to form around the edges and guessed her back was probably looking the same. After quickly getting into the clean bottoms, she held the towel against her bare chest to keep herself somewhat decent before stepping out of the bathroom. Putting on a shirt before she wrapped her back wounds would be pointless. 

Peter was standing at the edge of the bed with the bucket of first aid open in front of him. He had laid out some gauze and bandages on the bed spread and was reading the back label of a yellow tube. He casually glanced in her direction with raised brows, “Is Neosporin what you need? It says antibiotic ointment. That’s probably good, right?” 

She gave him a quiet nod. He was beautiful. Forgiving. Tender. She had the urge to be held by him, cradled in the safety of his arms, with her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. There was a newly found desperation growing where all she wanted to was to feel loved by another person. By him. Anything to make the pain go away. 

His eyes wandered back over to her, slowly toying down her body then back up to her face. She didn’t mind and found herself blushing under his obvious ogling. He gave her a lopsided grin, “Who knew there was an actual person under all that grime?”  

A smile broke out across her face, cracking through her hardened exterior. Her first real smile since she left him at camp. Those were the same words she had spoken to him the night he shuffled out of the shower the last time they were here. Their roles had been completely reversed. 

For a fleeting second, they held onto each other’s eyes, finding a common place between them. An appreciation. A care. A yearning.

A love. 

He was the first one to break the moment, hoisting the bucket off the bed and patting his hand on the mattress, “Come lay down. Let me look at your back.” 

Aylin did as she was told, happy to let someone else, someone she trusted, take control for a little a while. Once she was face first on top of the bed, she pulled the towel out from under her chest and rolled it up to use as a pillow. It was wet and cooling on her cheek as she closed her eyes. Her hair was tossed over her shoulder, away from her back. She could feel Kedi pawing at the dripping ends before he flopped over and dozed off. 

She wasn’t alone. 

There was life in this room besides her own. Life that she cared about. Life that she wanted to protect. 

Peter leaned over to examine the damage then looked back to the small tube of ointment, “I don’t think this will be enough.” 

Aylin cracked her eyes open to stare at him through half closed slits, “Does my back look infected? If not then I’ll use it on my thigh instead. That definitely needs it more.” 

She watched him glance down to the back of her thighs which were parted in a wider stance to keep her skin from touching. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

“Yeah, about that,” he spoke with a timid inflection. “What exactly am I looking at? When I brought you in from the car, I could kind of see it. It was all blistered but it looked a bit like it was spider shape or something. I didn’t want to push your legs apart too much to get a better look, not that you’re not nice to look at or anything, you were just sleeping…and I was…I was just…trying to…see…and make sure you were okay…” 

Aylin rolled her eyes and cut off his anxious rambling, “It’s a sun. Half of one. Kraven burned it into me to prove I was still a Silver Colt. That I was still one of them. That I was his.” 

Peter took a delicate seat on the edge of the bed beside her. He raised one brow with a look of mild intrigue, “Kraven?”

She huffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Yes? You remember him? The guy who ruined your life?”

“I know who you’re talking about.” A smile danced across his lips. “It’s just, well, you’ve always called him Sergei. The last time I brought up Kraven the Hunter you got all pissed off and had a look of death on your face like you’d kill me for disrespecting him by calling him that. Suddenly, he’s no longer Sergei. He’s Kraven. That’s what all the Lycan call him. You flipped sides.” 

Aylin let out a long breath, her eyes stared emotionless at the bare wall across from her, not finding the same amusement he clearly did, “That’s me. The traitor.”

Peter flopped down on his stomach next to her. His arms curled up to form a place for his head to rest as he stared, nose to nose, at her. He was becoming more comfortable around her by the second. She enjoyed the change. 

“I like Aylin the Traitor better than Aylin the Cult Member,” he muttered with a grin.

He was so close. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel something besides guilt and shame. He was so delicately handsome. 

And he was still here despite everything. 

“My entire life was a lie,” she whispered back to him, needing to share the burden of her life with someone she trusted. “Everything. He wanted me before I was even born. He wanted me to be his perfect…” She didn’t know what. Wife? Baby mother? Side piece? “He wanted me to have his children.” 

Peter’s brow furrowed, his joy fading, “What do you mean?” 

“Him and his wife. They couldn’t have children. He wanted an heir. They decided that the best way to do that was to create the perfect person from scratch. Someone loyal and obedient. Someone they could manipulate. Someone who would do whatever they asked,” she felt the tears pressing back up. “Someone as pathetic and naive as me.”’ 

She let out a dark, humorless laugh, “And the crazy thing is, if I had never met you, I would have done it. Without a second thought. I would have willingly agreed to it because I trusted him. He would have known best. If that’s what he said I needed to do to help our people, then I would have done it. It’s only because of you, I knew better. I’m so fucking stupid.” 

Peter’s hand reached up to capture a stray tear rolling down her cheek with his thumb. He gently wiped it away, letting his fingers push back through her hair, and lacing them against her skull. 

“You’re not stupid,” he murmured. “You were manipulated by a very bad man. If your life is full of isolation, then how could you ever know anything else? You did what you had to do to survive in the environment you were given. It’s not your fault you were born into a life like that. It’s what you do once you find out the truths that show what kind of person you really are. Look at you, Aylin. You’re not dead. You’re still here. You escaped. There is still more life out there. Don’t be like me. Don’t give up yet. You have no idea what kind of person you’re capable of becoming. Your life is just beginning. Mine is, too. We can still start fresh. They don’t deserve you, anyway.” 

“I killed her,” Aylin breathed. If he wanted to start fresh with her then he needed to know the truth. There were already too many lies in her life for her to keep anymore. “Remember that night I came to the camper and you had heard a girl screaming? They had wheeled out a young girl, a Lycan girl, inside a cage. They wanted me to kill her. I couldn’t do it. I ran back to you. I thought…” She swallowed at the lump forming in her throat. “I thought they would have killed her themselves after I ran.”

She buried her face into the towel, breathing in the scent of the motel shampoo, and closing her eyes to block out the memories as she spoke, “When I went back, when Kraven found me, he locked me in his basement. A torture chamber. It was hidden underground behind a secret bookcase. I wasn’t alone. That Lycan girl was there. She was still alive. He-” She took a deep breath. “He made me kill her this time. She was so weak. They had tortured her so badly. It was horrible. Her body was already shutting down. I think she would have died on her own had I just held off a few more hours. But I did it. I killed her. I didn’t even know her name. She wouldn’t tell me. She was young. Couldn’t be any older than 19. It was me who killed her. No one else. Just me.”

He entangled his hand from her wet hair, much to her heartbreak, and went silent. She could feel him breathing softly next to her as he mulled over what she had said. He still had the choice to leave and walk out if he judged her to be too irredeemable. 

After a quiet minute ticked by, Peter finally spoke, “I killed Kateri Deseronto’s son. He was only little. Five years old. That’s why she had me locked up when you found me. I’m responsible for his death. She wanted me to give her a new child. It was some sick, fucked up power play fueled by her grief and resentment. She lost herself the night he died. It’s hard for me to hate her, despite everything she did to me, because I felt like I deserved it. Her child is dead because of me. You said earlier that you bring death wherever you go. That you were cursed. That everyone was dead because of you.” He shook his head in disagreement. “I thought that, too, about myself. But it’s not us. I didn’t murder Kat’s son with my own hands. It was Kraven’s men who killed him. They were there because they were hunting me but I didn’t kill her son. If you look close enough, every string of blame leads straight back to Kraven the Hunter. He’s the source of everything.” 

Aylin peaked a curious eye out from the safety of her cave. Peter had propped his head up onto his hand, leaning on his side, as he looked down at her with a quiet contemplation. Suddenly, another puzzle piece fell into place. 

“Wait,” she said with a realization. She had heard that story before. She quickly sat up, forgetting she was topless, then hastily threw the towel to her chest when she saw Peter’s eyes widen. “When was that? When did the thing with Kat’s son happen?”

Peter thought for a second, his ears reddening from embarrassment, not quite understanding the gravity of what he was about to say, “I don’t know. Five years ago-ish?” He could tell by the paling look of horror on her face that something wasn’t right. “Why?”

Aylin filled her lungs with a gulp of air to try and settle her nerves, “The night my father and brother died, the night Kraven left them to die, the three of them were hunting you. Kraven told me in the basement that they had found you along with a woman and a little boy. He said that you were trying to regrow your pack after he slaughtered your last one.” 

Peter’s jaw clenched at that statement but he remained quiet. 

“He told me that they found you, he said…oh god…he said Emir ran after the woman and her son while he fought with you. He said that after he stabbed you, he fought with my father. Then he shot Emir. Then he left them both to be killed by a wolf.” Her voice lingered down to nothing but a mere whisper. “By you.”

Peter sat in a stunned silence. His eyes slipped closed and he brought his hands up to massage at his temples. With one hand keeping the towel in place, Aylin reached out with the other to gently caress his knee and drag his attention back to her. 

“I don’t blame you, Peter. It’s not your fault,” she muttered. “They were Silver Colts. They attacked you first. Like you said, everything leads back to Kraven.” 

He frantically shook his head, “No. That’s not how it happened. I told you. I never killed your family. I didn’t know…I didn’t know that was them…but I didn’t kill them. It wasn’t me. I was bleeding out after Kraven attacked me. I could barely move. Kat killed them.” 

Aylin’s eyes widened as ice froze her veins. The memory of running from the pack of wolves with Peter bursts behind her vision. A large, towering black wolf. Hunched over in the middle of the dark, slick wet, rain covered road. Heavy, smokey breaths puffing from her saliva coated jaws. She didn’t chase the car speeding away with her captive. She only stood and watched. Waiting. Plotting. 

Kat was the wolf that had killed her family. 

“Because Emir killed her son,” Aylin stated. 

He gave a solemn nod. 

Her stomach sank. She loved her family. She thought the world of them but, in their death and her grief, she had memorialized them as saints. She had stopped seeing them as people with flaws. They were people who could do no wrong. Frozen forever in her mind as the perfect father and big brother. 

But, like everything else in her life, that wasn’t always the truth. 

The world wasn’t black and white. People were all shades of gray. The people she loved and admired were capable of doing bad things. They were capable of doing wonderful, nobel things, too. They were complex, layered people. Emir could stand up for his little sister and protect her honor down to his last breath and he could also murder someone else’s child because they were associated with a Lycan. He had grown up in the same cult as she did. Generation after generation, the cycle of violence and hate would continue. 

It stopped with her. 

“Why were you with Kat and her son?” She asked. 

Peter gave a small shrug, keeping his sights set to study her face, trying to read her emotions through each little detail he could find, “She found me. She was running from her husband. He was Lycan and had turned her when they got together before she even really knew what that meant. She was young and in love with him so she ignored all the warning signs of him being an abuser. After their son was born, he got worse. Finally she decided to run but she didn’t have the experience of being a Lycan around normal people. She didn’t know how to care for her son as he started going through changes. Her husband had kept them sheltered for years. She didn’t have friends or anyone to go to. I guess she heard that my people-” He cleared his throat, struggling to speak about his pack. “She heard that I was alone. She wanted help. I told her I could help her. I told her I would try to keep them safe. I shouldn’t have done that. I knew Kraven was hunting me. I shouldn’t have had them so close but…I suppose lonely people do stupid things.” 

“Were you in love with her?” She wasn’t sure why that was the first question she asked. A strange sting of jealousy poked at her heart at the thought of him loving someone like Kat. 

A small, sad smile tugged at his lips, “No. The woman I loved is dead. Her name was Gwen. She would have wanted me to help a lost mother and her child, though. Maybe that’s why I did it. Her voice was in my head begging me to do the right thing.” He gave another shrug. “It only served to get a kid killed and look where I ended up because of it.”

Aylin licked her drying lips, “I think the person I loved is dead, too. I think Kraven killed her and her family. I thought they just left in the middle of the night but…I don’t think anyone leaves the Silver Colts without consequences. I think Kraven did it to punish me. Her name was Leah and she was beautiful. She would have liked you. She was always a bit of a rebel while I was always straight laced. She’d be amazed to know I, of all people, befriended a Lycan.” 

Peter smiled at the thought, “We are two very fucked up people with freakishly similar backgrounds.” 

Her sweet chimes of laughter filled the space between them. It felt good to laugh. Healing. 

“I think I was meant to meet you,” she breathed. “I think-” 

She stopped herself from saying what she really wanted to and shook her head to brush away the thought. 

I think you were meant to be mine. 

She rolled back onto her stomach and balled up the towel into a pillow once more, “I think you should help me put as much Neosporin as you can onto my back and then wrap it back up.”

Peter stood up to stand at the foot of the bed and clapped his hands together, “I have a better idea! I know exactly what can heal you in no time. Forget about ointments and creams. I’ve got all the cure you need right here in these veins.” 

Aylin shook her head and grimaced, “Absolutely not. I’ve drunk enough Lycan blood for one lifetime, thank you very much.”

Peter’s head jerked over to stare at her with an incredulous look, “Drank? Why are you drinking blood?”

She frowned, “That’s how Kraven is getting his superior strength. He’s drinking Lycan blood. I got only a few drops in my mouth when I killed the Lycan girl and it almost gave me a heart attack. I’m not doing that again.” 

His nose scrunched up in disgust, “Nasty. You don’t need to drink it. It’s much more effective to go blood to blood. Like, I cut my wrist and let it drip directly into your wounds. Straight to the source. It heals so much faster. I assume drinking it would take more time for it to get absorbed and lose some of its potency. Not to mention, it’s also disgusting and wrong on so many levels.” 

A tiny smile crept onto her face.

“So you’re telling me that Kraven and Calypso are gulping down blood when they could actually just be injecting it straight into their veins for better and faster results?” 

He shrugged and nodded. 

Somehow the thought of their stupidity made it more humorous. The Silver Colts really didn’t know the first thing about Lycans. All that hatred for a species they never cared to research further. 

“I still don’t want your blood. I almost died last time and then I slept for 16 hours. It was horrible,” she said. The sleeping part wasn’t actually horrible. She needed it. It was all the other stuff before that, that she’d rather never experience again. 

“That’s because you were panicking.” He said this like it should have been obvious to her. When he saw no light bulb go off over her head, he explained further. “When a human is given Lycan blood, it enhances everything. Physically, it makes you heal faster, you’re stronger, you have better eyesight and hearing and smell, your endurance and agility heighten, faster reflexes…you get it. But it also enhances your emotions. Whatever you’re feeling when it’s in your system gets enhanced. Seeing as you were running for your life through the woods, half naked, and covered in blood, your heart was racing. It would have been racing without the blood and then, suddenly, it’s going twice as fast as it ever should. You were scared and panicked. Thus, the blood made those emotions worse, which made your heart beat faster, which made it almost explode.” 

Interesting. 

She remembered how frantic Kraven’s hands had felt as he lusted after her like he could scarcely control his desires for her. She remembered how each whip from Calypso was harder and more violent than the last, like she was feeding off her own hatred towards Aylin. She remembered how scared she felt when she tumbled into her mother’s bedroom to find her missing and how the panic had felt like it consuming her every pore. 

It would make perfect sense that Lycan blood was heighting more than just their physical abilities. 

Then she remembered something else. 

“Kraven said something strange when we were in the basement. When you were fighting all those years ago, he cut your throat, and your blood landed in his mouth. Once that happened, he felt like he could no longer kill you. He walked away from the fight and left you there. Then, when he was drinking the girl in the basement's blood, he told me that he nor Calypso were able to kill her themselves. They had to wait for me to do it. He said it was like a mental block that happened.” 

The Lycan had already been dead once Aylin got a taste of her blood so she hadn’t experienced anything Kraven had described. 

Peter nodded, “I’ve heard of that happening. Figured that’s why Kraven walked away that night. I don’t know how or why it happens. It’s not like there are books that study our anatomy. I think it’s probably a last line of defense. If someone is using our blood, we become a part of them while it’s in their system. Killing the wolf that’s living temperarely inside of you would be like suicide, I imagine. I doubt it would literally kill the person but that’s how it would probably feel. You have an instinctive need for self preservation, which now includes the wolf inside of you, so you can’t bring yourself to kill them.” 

Peter’s blood is what saved him the night Kraven attacked. 

She wouldn’t mind having a part of him flowing inside her veins for a little while. 

“Promise it won’t be as bad as last time?” She asked. 

He smiled, “We’re in a motel room. You have your cat. It’s just me and you here. There is no danger. No one knows we are here. We can put on the tv and watch something chill while it works its magic. You have no need to be scared or panicked. You’ll feel heightened senses but as long as you keep your emotions calm, you’ll be okay.” 

Aylin thought it over then gave a final nod, “Fine. Do it. Whatever can heal me faster, I'll take. You and I have a lot of planning to do.”

[CHAPTER NINE]

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TagList: @theorgansarerotting @sincericida @moonyslove78 @lazyxsquirrel @101maverick

A/N: Please remember that writers love to listen to every tiny, little thought you’ve had about their work. If you liked something in particular, let us know! We love to hear it!

[pocketramblr]

that sailor moon au part one

Holy shit, a talking cat!

“Holy shit, a talking cat.” En breathed, squatting down to look at the animal that had broken in and taken his futon.

“Yes.” It said, amused and batting at his finger when he tried to poke it. “I am Midnight. I’ve been looking for you, En.”

“And it knows my name.” Why had it been looking for him? Was he on some sort of animal hit-list?

“I wanted to thank- oh, I use she/her pronouns actually.” The cat corrected.

En pinched himself. It hurt but maybe that didn’t mean anything. “The talking cat knows what pronouns are.”

“Of course I do; human gender- and sexuality- are so fascinating! Ah, but that doesn’t matter right now, don’t distract me! I wanted to say thank you for helping me out earlier this morning, even though it made you late to your class.”

En would have been late anyway.

“No problem.” He shrugged, fully accepting this was a dream.

“And, I want to give you something.” She spun around, and then held out a golden pin between her teeth.

En stared at it.

Midnight waved her face at him a bit, tail flicking.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, like an answer would make sense if he asked the question out loud, like a dream would have consistency other than just being confusing. “You don’t have any pockets, you’re naked.”

The cat dropped the pin on his futon.

“I’m nude, actually.” She corrected, again. “But take it and put it on, En!”

“So pushy.” He muttered. “You’re just like Nana-nee.” But he put it on anyway, fastening it to his jacket near the collar.

The silver crescent moon stood out against the red fabric, almost shining. It didn’t look bad, and it wasn’t his normal style, but for some reason he didn’t feel the desire to remove it. Probably the weird dream logic.

“Now, repeat after me! Moon Prism Power, One For All!” Midnight said.

“Moon prism power, one for all?” En repeated.

And then suddenly, he was glowing.

An energy raced through him, cold and electrifying, though it didn’t hurt. His heartbeat raced in his ear to a strange rhythm, and stars raced past his eyes.

When they faded, he felt taller.

He looked down to see he was wearing boots with a bit of a platform- oh, and completely different clothes.

In a blur, he darted from his room to the bathroom to look in the mirror.

He was wearing a jacket like his old high school gakuran, except in dark blue instead of black. He had matching blue shorts and high socks tucked into the almost-as-high boots. The buttons and buckles shone silver like the band sitting cool across his forehead, mostly hiding by his hair, which had a moon crescent in the center- it matched the pin Midnight gave him, and so did the earrings dangling from his ears.

Wait. Only one of his ears was pierced.

Dream, right.

It was getting harder to believe that…

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked.

Midnight jumped up onto the bathroom counter and shook her head.

“No, En, it’s all real. And I need you to become the Moon Scout.”

“The moon what?”

“The pretty guardian of love and justice.”

“The what?”

Midnight didn’t get a chance to answer his question- instead all he could focus on was a sudden ringing in his ear- well, just under his ear.

“Help!” a voice echoed. “We’re at the jewelry store off Besupin and 8th, she’s- ah!”

“Shimura-san?” a different voice asked, tinny, through a phone, “Are you still there, Shimura-san?”

En heard Midnight’s voice, but not what she said- he was instead remembering earlier when he’d gotten home from class, heard Nana and Sorahiko talking in the kitchen as they microwaved lunch. Something about an outrageous sale going on, and Nana and her boyfriend heading there after their own classes.

En had asked if they’d been going out long enough for an engagement ring to be considered, and after laughing at how Nana had nailed him in the head with an empty takeout box, Sorahiko had gotten his own jab in: “Do you really want a discount engagement ring? That’s not really romantic is it?”

Nana had sniffed and declared that a wedding she could actually afford to feed herself and her husband afterwards was the most romantic one. Then En had fled before she could aim another throw at him for saying that he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be the one cooking and feeding her spouse.

But now, if Shimura-kun was at the store, and calling for help-

“Tell me how to get there.” He told Midnight, who nodded and leapt from the counter without a word.

En’s heart was racing the whole way, audible even over the pounding of his boots.

The store wasn’t far, but any minute delay-

Sirens, red lights.

The police surrounded the place, a crowd of people by them.

“Maam, stop!” One raised his voice. “You cannot go back in there!”

“My boyfriend is in there!” Nana- oh god that was his sister, she was fine- but Shimura-kun wasn’t.

En blew past the crowd, and the officers.

“Hey, wait!” Another tried to call after him.

“Is that the Deku Scout?” another asked.

En didn’t even turn around. He didn’t want Nana to see his face, because if she knew he was in there she wouldn’t let herself be held back anymore.

He pushed open the door, and almost collapsed against it, panting.

There were a group of people huddled against the back counter, and more strewn across the floor, unconscious or- he didn’t want to think about it.

In the middle of the store, a figured held up a person with one hand, the other glowing on their face.

“Let them go, now!” He demanded, straightening up and walking inside.

The figure turned to look over their shoulder at him- and then kept turning, the neck bending and contorting in ways it shouldn’t.

En’s stomach dropped.

The door shut behind him.

Suddenly he felt cold.

It was hard to swallow.

“Who are you?” The thing demanded, dropping their victim.

“I’m-“ En wasn’t sure what to say- “the Moon Scout.”

“The moon scout?” The thing repeated, and suddenly words were pulled from En’s dry throat.

“Yeah, the pretty guardian of love and justice, if you want to surrender now.”

“Love? Justice? Surrender?” The thing laughed more with each word, and as they laughed their body stretched and bulged, sharp and jagged. “I think not, little boy.”

Then they lunged, arm stretching to claw at him.

En threw himself to the side.

The ground he crashed into shook, and tile cracked under the thing’s claw.

That had almost been him.

“Moon Scout!” Midnight’s voice echoed from one of his earrings. “Fight back!”

“How do I do that?” He asked, racing behind a counter of jewelry as the thing got back up and growled at him.

“Repeat after me, Midnight Shroud!”

“Midnight Shroud!” En screamed, and suddenly dark smoke billowed from his uniform, filling the room in seconds.

He blinked, and realized he could still see the outline of things and people, if not much else.

En began to move, staying low, edging the length of the counter.

Something slammed into the glass where he’d been.

It shattered, some hitting against the back of his coat.

He froze.

“Not so brave are you now, moon boy?” The thing asked. “Come out, let me see where you are… I bet you have lots of energy and individuality my master would love to take.”

En… wasn’t even going to try and parse that. He looked back to where the hostages who were still awake sat. Maybe they could at least leave, under cover, but where was Shimura-kun?

“Midnight, I could use a little more help!” he hissed, and tried to crawl as silently as possible.

“I’m closeby, but my legs are shorter than even yours!” The cat answered. “I’ve called for more backup too, just hold on! And if you can get a clear shot, throw your tiara at the monster!”

As the realization of how bad an idea it had been to trust some random talking cat when she said she turned him into some kind of hero sunk in, the monster shattered another glass case. Eventually, it would find him, and he wanted to be on his feet when it did.

En grabbed a piece of glass and necklace of many hefty gems, and slowly stood up.

He crept around the monster’s back, then threw the necklace.

It hit the thing’s shoulder and snapped apart, and then the thing was turning on him, eyes aglow.

En leaned and slashed with the glass-

Sharp pain in his hand-

Then all over, thrown back. His back, crashing into a wall, out of breath.

The darkness was fading, light beginning to show at the windows, the door, and it cracked open.

Midnight stepped in.

En was looking at her when the monster moved again, and he was too slow to dodge.

“Moon Tiara Action!” The cat cried.

Then something hit the monster’s arm instead.

A rose glimmered in the low light.

“What the hell?” En asked, looking around for where it came from- and the monster did the same thing.

A figure in one window that wasn’t getting as light, a shadow cast.

“Who are you?” The monster demanded.

“Tuxedo Mask.” The figure answered- and yeah, En guessed he did have on a tuxedo. And a mask. The suit was fitted to a tall body, silhouetted sharper in the yellow lining of the cap he wore over it. The mask shaded his eyes, but didn’t hide the strong nose and smirk on his face. “Hey, Moon Scout, hiding and running won’t win this battle for you.”

En blinked. Seriously?

“It was doing a great job at keeping me alive.” He responded, and ‘Tuxedo Mask’ nodded once, as if giving him the point. It didn’t feel like much of a concession. “Anyway, where did you come from?”

“Moon Scout, don’t take your eyes off your opponent.” He said instead of answering.

“What do you-“ En looked at the monster, which was now lifting both arms, even with one bleeding at the rose stuck in it, waving them down towards En and to Tuxedo Mask.

En tugged the silver band off his head. What had Midnight said?

“Moon tiara action!” He said, flinging the circle forward.

It glowed bright as it spun, hitting the thing in their chest, which caved inward- and inward, and inward, their entire body crumbling to dust that barely hit the floor before it faded too.

“You did it!” Midnight cheered.

“Not bad for your first time.” Tuxedo Mask was still smiling as he lifted his cape and turned.

“Wait, are you really going to leave without saying goodbye?”

He left without saying goodbye.

Huh.

“Who was that?” Midnight asked, from near his ankle where she held his fallen tiara.

“I dunno but he’s hand- wait. You didn’t send him?”

She shook her head.

“I wish, he is easy on the eyes. Oh, right. Stellaris, cancel that emergency backup. Moon Scout is fine!”

“How many people are involved in what’s going on, exactly?” En asked, beginning to feel a bit dizzy. The cut on his hand where his attempt at using the glass had failed wasn’t big enough for it to be from bloodloss. Probably.

Unless he’d been bleeding out this whole time or something, everything from the talking cat onward a hallucination as his mind dealt with… he wasn’t sure, getting hit with a truck or something this morning.

But he was pretty sure isekais didn’t work this way, so…

“Let’s get home first, then I can answer your questions… and we need to get you a bandage.” She frowned, but then flicked her tail and went to the window Tuxedo Mask had made his entrance and exit from. “Hurry!”

He followed, shaking his head.

“We have to get back before your sister and her boyfriend do!” Midnight reminded him, and En went double time.

As it was, Nana still got back before En had finished cleaning up.

At least he was in his own clothes, Midnight having taught him how to un-moon-prism-power.

“Enkun, I’m home!” Nana called. “You wouldn’t believe what-“

“Are you ok?” He interrupted. “I, uh, saw the news and I was worried, since you went to that store, and-“

“I’m fine.” She said quickly.

“What about-“

“So is he.”

“I am indeed fine.” Shimura-kun’s voice joined Nana’s. “Just a really weird day. Passed out on the floor and missed the vigilante battle though, apparently.”

“Oh no, that’s too bad.” En tried to sound nonchalant, but the both just laughed.

“I was scared out of my mind, but it was alright in the- Engetsu-chan, what is that.” Nana stepped out of the kitchen and saw him attempting to bandage his own left hand.

“Um, well-“

“Are you bleeding, is that a cat, where- don’t sit on the couch like that you’ll get blood on it, here,” Nana moved in a flurry, tugging him off the back of the couch and pulling him to stand, focusing on his hand as she kept talking. “What happened?”

“Um…”

Midnight meowed.

“Um, there were some kids messing with this cat, and I stopped them.” En said, which was technically true.

“These aren’t from the cat, are they?”

“No, no! She’s fine. Sweet. Her name’s Midnight.”

“A good name for her.” Nana glanced at her. “But you have to be the one to buy cat food. And kitty litter!”

En had expected more pushback than that but was just glad he wasn’t hearing a ‘how dare you almost die so stupidly’ conversation instead.

Nana finished wrapping his hand. He realized hers were shaking.

“Are you okay, Nana-nee?” He asked.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just glad we’re all alright.”

He nodded. “We are. Hey, how about instead of us forcing Shimura-kun to cook dinner for us, you call Torino and he brings us something for us to eat in instead.”

“Instead of making me what?”

Nana’s smile got a little less even, and a little more true.

“Yeah, let’s do that. I’ll go text him. You start looking for cat things.”

“Got it.” He saluted, then returned to the back of the couch, pulling out his phone. “Hey, Midnight, what do talking cats eat?” he asked, a little quieter as she curled up next to him.

“Caviar.”

“Wet cat food, got it…”

“En!”

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish - Nine Tails

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>5<

Hanabi lowered herself to the leather couch with delight, previously taking a bath in the wonderfully warm water, changing her wet clothes for a dry oversized T-shirt with a wide neckline falling from the shoulder and shorts. She was pulling on her feet fluffy pompom socks as Kaoru sat next to her, setting steaming mugs of tea on the table. They heard a knock on the door, followed by the gentle clang of the door handle. Hanayama nodded as he saw his deputy.

- Sorry to bother you at this late hour, boss. - he muttered a little nervously. - First of all, please accept my best wishes for health and well-being on your birthday, Hanabi-sama.

- Thank you, Kizaki-san. - she replied with a smile.

- During your absence, a package arrived, for Hanabi-sama. - he added, admitting Ueda and the others, with an oblong bundle. - Straight from Okinawa.

They all bowed evenly, and it was enormously amusing to her, she didn't really know why. As soon as the boy with the earrings placed quite a bundle in front of her, she flinched.

- You say ... Okinawa? - she asked uncertainly.

- Yes.

- I know perfectly well what is inside. - She threw nervously, cuddling up to her husband. - Absolutely don't want to see it. Send it back.

- What is this? - Kaoru asked, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

- Two custom tailored katanas. Damscus steel coated with cobalt fibers. Both in white duvet covers, with nine-tailed foxes on tsubas. - she replied, still looking at the package. - Each of my sisters got such a set for their twentieth birthday. Always matched to individual predispositions. Tradition, in memory of grandfather Musashi. There is a family of armorers in Okinawa, let's say ... they are our friends.

- Damascus ... steel? - Kizaki stammered out. - It must be worth a fortune!

- Oh, probably. I also guarantee that the swords are of the highest class. I saw the previous three pairs, I had my father's katana in my hands ... Normally you won't get one. They are one of a kind.

- Then why don't you want them? - the husband muttered.

- Because if I do, I'll admit Grandpa Shigeru is right. - she replied quickly. - And I don't want this!

- But ... a gift was sent by Your father, Hanabi-sama ... - added the deputy.

She tugged the package towards herself as she read the label carefully. In fact, in the "addressee" column there was the father's name and surname. So this is Goro after all ...? She looked around the bundle. It would be the most ordinary in the world, except for the contents, if not for a small bulge around the handle. She peeled off the package carefully to remove what was squeezed under the foil. Found a tiny envelope, from which fell a charming key ring, which she had seen a lot at Okinawan festivals. It reigned over them every year, especially since around Grandpa Shigeru's dojo, Inari's cult was going really well. A charming figurine of a white fox surrounded by nine tails. Each of the tails had an intricately calligraphed symbol of happiness at the end. She smiled to herself as she flipped open the card that came with the gift: "Don't whine, sweetheart. Happy twentieth birthday! ".

>>><<<

The next day, he made every effort to put everyone he could to work so that would have an undisturbed time for her, from the early afternoon. Kizaki nodded meekly in understanding. He definitely cheered on their relationship more and more, it was visible to the naked eye. This allowed Hanayama to get his wife free for a relaxing day. With joy, she almost flew out in an airy, lacy, lush red dress, black tights and equally dark, varnished high heels. He thought he was used to it, but still couldn't take eyes off her light, graceful steps. Despite very high heels, Hanabi looked like she was actually dancing. Or was it because of them? Kaoru didn't have time to think, because Hana dragged him to "their cafe", the same one where they sat together for the first time. This time, much less skeptical, suspicious and more enthusiastic. She ate the cappuccino foam with the spoon again, as she used to do when the mood was high. At the sight of her beloved strawberry cake, she smiled so broadly that her face was barely enough. Her reactions to long-lost delicacies gave him great pleasure, especially as she nestled into his body, sweeping him with the sweet scent of perfume. Her energy grew with every moment, with every meter she traveled, as if she were absorbing it from the sun peeking out between the buildings, and then the trees in the park. They also ate the rest of their meals outside the house. He didn't want her to stand by the pots when celebrating her birthday. She was acting a little different than normal, but he guessed the joy of returning to her body was doing its job.

As soon as they returned, she took off her varnished high heels with undisguised relief, setting them next to the men's crocodile loafers. She collapsed onto the leather couch, placing long legs on the armrest. Hanayama took off jacket, slipped off tie, and walked over to the bar counter to retrieve a bottle of Wild Turkey from the cupboard beneath it. He looked in her direction. She winked knowingly, at which he chuckled under his breath as he took out another glass with a thick bottom. He set a pot half-filled with dark brown liquid on the table in front of her, sitting down beside her. She immediately moved just enough to rest head on massive thigh. After a while, however, she shifted to a sitting position, tucking legs under her and reaching for the glass. Hana rested head on his shoulder, taking a sip.

- I was supposed to tell you how it was there, right? - she murmured slowly. - I can't describe anything to you. It would break the rules ... but I can tell you what I did.

- I'm all ears. - he replied calmly, putting arm around her.

- It confused me a bit, I admit. Let's start with the fact that ... - she muttered, sipping. - ... the fact that I stayed here, at least partially, in the body of a fox with one tail, was almost a symptom of the grace of Lord Inari *.

- ... Inari? - he was surprised.

- Yes. He is the subject of all Kitsune. My sisters also "belong" to the Lord, although I'm not sure if they are aware of it. They probably think the way I did before, that this is some kind of talk, tradition and that's it. And then suddenly I wake up naked, with a tail and ears, I guess fucking in the afterlife. - she replied with a nervous huff, resting head on his shoulder again. - He was supposed to kill me, especially since he was furious, and Inari in this state is rarer than Yeti. He believed that what I had done was an unforgivable abuse of the laws of nature. He only softened the sentence because I actually saved the country from extermination.

- There is something about it. It isn't known what would go to her head. - Kaoru judged. - But why did it take so long?

- Unlike other Kitsune, I was born with my six tails, the last three were forced by Wu Song, probably without even knowing it ... - she replied bitterly, drinking the Black Russian. - Lord Inari said that this time I must earn all nine. Okay, eight. In this assignment, as a disembodied Byakko, spirit guide, I had to possess eight people in order for them to get better in some way and gain an ability that I care about.

The thought chilled him. Neither did she look proud of the whole story. Possession ... sounds like a horror theme that some people stay awake after a week, and Hanabi had to do it herself. He wasn't really going to go into details - how to get into someone's body. He also suspected that it was a religious taboo and she wouldn't be able to say anyway.

- First worst? - he asked softly.

- Pff ... in life. - she snorted, then laughed slightly and made a face. - The last one was the hardest. I had to get "affect" from ... a child.

He was dumbfounded. It's monstrous! Life didn't spoil, of course not ... but such an inhumane thing ... with a child? He watched as she took another sip, following her trail. He didn't think he could digest something like that completely sober.

>>><<<

Coming back to these memories was not easy for two reasons: first, the human brain had a hard time processing such information, and it quickly cleared of it, rationalizing it and translating it into the "tapped-off, forget" section. Second, she wanted to forget all this information very much. The enormity of the suffering she experienced sharing her skin with others.

In one second she closed her eyes, hugged by loving husband, giving her last breath in his arms, and in the second woke up lying on snow-white tatami mats, covered with an equally bright silk. She pushed herself into a sitting position, cascading raven hair, long as never before, enveloped her naked body. Pushing the part back, she found a pair of ears sticking out straight from her head.

- What the ...

- Don't you dare to swear in a holy place, Byakko. - she heard a warm, yet fierce voice in front of her.

A tall man stood in front of her, with a very pleasing appearance, ruby red eyes and gray hair falling over his shoulders, slightly covering the large golden circles hanging from his ears. He was dressed in clothes similar to those she had seen among the temple priests, but of much better quality. There were fist-sized pouches and a string of coins strung on his belt. He was accompanied by two foxes with long, single tails, looking at her curiously.

- One dirty word in my temple and I will seal your vocal cords for a whole millennium. - he grunted, pulling a rather wide collar with a wooden charm attached like a medallion from his sleeve. - I should have killed you, child, be glad you're alive!

- ... Inari ...? - she asked surprised.

- For you, MASTER Inari, my rebellious child. - he sighed heavily.

- So I died after all? - Hanabi muttered sadly, with astonishment noticing the presence of one tail protruding from under the white silk.

- You seemed smarter on Earth. - he replied, grabbing her jaw. - You LIVE, yet. Let it be an act of grace. Now to the point: you want to go back, I suppose? Because I'm not going to put up with your impertinent, immature nature.

She blinked quickly. So she could come back? Just? No wait, it couldn't be easy. If it were, he wouldn't be so mad. But if there was any chance, she had to get hold of it, even by the balls. She promised Kaoru that she would return to the human body, and so far she has melted the fuck knows where, condemned to the grace or disfavor of a divine being that she had previously seen only as a temple figurine! So it was necessary to dig out a little dignity, submission and personal culture, so that the disagreement with the "boss" wouldn't extend her sentence. She sat up a little more comfortably, wiggling her white tail quite naturally and sticking out the fox ears. She liked this form quite well, but didn't intend to stay in it for long.

- How can I come back, Master? - she asked, trying to be conciliatory.

- As far as I know, you got the previous six tails at birth ...

- I thought seven. - she was stunned. - Or eight.

- No, child, nine in total. The last three have been brutally forced. It absolutely shouldn't have happened... - he explained patiently. - In any case, you didn't get any of the tails for any credit, so this time you have to get it. Thanks to this, you will rebuild your life energy enough to switch bodies with your Spirit again.

- My Spirit?

She must have looked very strange, because Inari sighed once again, took a gold-rimmed mirror from behind the lap of his robes and turned it towards her. For a moment she only saw her reflection, but then the image faded, and when it sharpened again she saw something that made her rub eyes to make sure she could see well. Kaoru was sitting in the car, in an immortal white suit and purple shirt, with a bandage on his left eye, and on one of his knees was a tiny fox, no bigger than his hand, slowly swinging a fluffy tail.

- Oh f ... - she wanted to curse profusely, but seeing the scolding gaze of the man in front of her and the collar hanging on his hand, she reflected. - O... my...that's me?

- There is barely that much left of you. A humble memory with a fragment of your consciousness. I must admit that it is very vital. - Inari replied, hiding the mirror. - The medium can absorb the souls of the dead and even pass them on. You changed places with yours.

-So how do I get my tails back? - she continued, motivated like never before.

- You are a spiritual guide, Byakko, so you will do some guides here and there. - the man said, waving his hand gracefully. - You will possess eight people, whom I will point out to you and you will do your best to achieve the effect that you are interested in together.

- Wait ... WHAT ?! - she exclaimed, standing abruptly, ignoring the falling silk. - But how?! Yet...

- Look out for my foxes, they'll bring you messages. - he cut himself off. - How do you say it on Earth? "You'll get it"!

_______________________________

*Inari (Inari Okami) - one of the most popular deities of Japan, to whom shrines and shrines with fox figures are dedicated; most often worshiped as Shintoist, sometimes Buddhist, sometimes as a man, sometimes as an undefined, life-giving force, but most often as a woman on a fox or with a ear of rice in her hand, androgynous deity of crops, prosperity, and also rice, patron of trade, fisheries, guardian of households.

[originemesis]

// some reference notes for adam's physique/state of being in each verse!! since he's not actually a shape shifter by any means, but bitch changes like one at each notable point in the timeline while yelling 'it's not a phase! it's that next level shit-'

promised paradise ;

- fresh out of the Creator's ez bake oven and on a strict vegan diet straight out of Eden's pussy. Know all the twinky fanart of Adam you tell yourself can't hurt you because it's not real? This is him! Your literal nightmare and did I mention he's nude?? In all seriousness, he's got a strong jaw, a faint dusting of freckles between his eyes that extends along the bridge of his face, and a massive (ye it needs to be) manifestation of golden light in the shape of an actually average sized fig leaf that stays just sort of floating/concealing the reason why you should call him dick master. has a scar on his flank where the rib came out. - out of Eden, he gets clothes and eventually looks like your average Minecrafter. (Not even elaborating except letting you know block Adam is likely real and we should fear him.) calloused hands from totally farming with tools and not throwing them at Michael. no longer trusts fruit and sustains a meat and potato heavy diet, and is thicker with more musculature. one hand is permanently fucked up because eve keeps breaking it during every birth and she do be populating-

the crusades ;

- standard commander of the exorcist wardrobe and nearly exclusively how someone will happen upon him unless they catch him off guard, on laundry day, or is Lute. if laundry day, he'll be in a spare exorcist uniform (yes the skirt 1) or a maid outfit someone (probs Gabe) convinced him into thinking was a robe. - when he's first brought to heaven and shown around by Sera, he basically is a combo of both Eden verses- younger again, freshened up, half thick with farm work and (don't forget naked!!) Sera eventually helps him find his main robe to wear because he's mclosing it since the apple made him woke to these things and dying didn't change that. said robe is actually just the massive bell shaped bottom of one of Sera's dresses that she chopped and stitched up for him (he grows into it.) - beneath the uniform, he's still got muscle but it only shows when he's in battle using that farmhand strength to direct his weight around like a literal train wreck. he's gotten chubby from not trusting fruit and not having a woman to fix him home cooked meals anymore, opting for convenience style food (not that he has to eat, but he develops a binging tendency from a combination of the stress of not fitting in to heaven's mold before the 'angel skin' helps him fake it, and from tendencies formed on Earth since food could get scarce just depending on the weather's fee fees) and he holds it in his chest, stomach and ass, though his garb of choice gives him the classic church bell body. - his freckles are still there, but they glow with a faint golden light that's only really obvious in the dark. his wings are composed of golden feathers that are rather impressive when first hitting the sunlight in heaven, but Sera will admit they don't look as nice as that first time now since he doesn't take spectacular care of them, delegating the preens to his exorcist flock and they currently can't outclean the speed at which he accumulates Cheetoh dust in them. - the combination of him being alone for some time before Lute takes over, not taking general care of himself, and being without his rib support beam (that first wamman!) has caused fairly dark circles under his eyes and he generally has an air of deterioration about his actual face when on display. - his actual human nails are usually painted black under his talon gloves. Lute does them for him while they talk shit.

six months remaining ;

- same as above. he ends up with a wing injury from attempting the archangel proposal process (being not a full one himself but kind of like in training? so yeah that fucks his shoulder and wings up a bit.) this confines him to his apartment where he's forced by Lute to just hang out in off duty comfy sweatpants. though he's stuck in short shorts when she makes him go to early morning physical therapy yoga.

dead on arrival ;

- arrives as he came and slowly goes through hell puberty - which is a settling into a demon form that all souls inevitably take while being exposed to hell for too long (and well since it's forever... y'know!!) - since he insists on still wearing his helmet once Vox tech fixes it, he's unaware of the changes at first. gradually his skin starts looking more ashy and toasted like it's trying to shed to match the charred color of his arms that end in actual talons. his eyes were scalded by an archangel (Lute's), and the whites of them eventually fade out to black with pinpricks of gold for a pupil. - eventually his forehead starts to form horn nubs over each brow, but they don't get much bigger than that and sort of resemble piercings. one of his wings is missing (from a comatose meeting with a cannibal who finally got to taste God's chicken-) and he keeps the remaining one permanently tucked at his side like he's worried about losing that one too, though the feathers are faded and look like they might be darkening. the feathers he has sprouted (a couple tucked behind his ears like hair), and those that form a fan at the end of his tail, are dull brownish gold and speckled with black. - in addition to his rib scar, he has a large scar over the solar plexus and on the opposite side between his shoulder blades made of many small entry points, and with how the flesh has healed- it resembles the beginnings of a large rock hitting water impact. - he starts to ignore these changes and continues to just exist as he did in heaven with his helmet on, though trades the robes out for joggers and any other fuck boy rock star gear that Velvette puts him in when he's under contract. and yes, when he wears a hoodie- he just cuts holes in the hood for the helmet's horns. 🤘 - his appearance stays relatively stable to the point he still appears human despite the changes, however- this form can ' break' during high stress situations or even peek through when he's hitting a hardcore metal part of a song. this looks like his eyes inverting colors (so the gold prick widens until it swallows up the whole eye - basically looking like the eyes on his mask), skin on his face becoming essentially losing its corporeal form in the sense it becomes 'void', a dark twisting mass of static energy.

[hee-blee-art]

“vulnerability” ft. sandman and b.g. (part 1) 

[link to part 2] [link to full comic]

[image ID: a comic sketched in blue featuring sandman (he/him), a short fat humanoid creature with long tail, a large wizard hat, and a star design on his chest; and b.g. (any pronouns), a tall buff humanoid shapeshifter with a skeletal face, dark hair, and black sclera.

transcription:

sandman: [looking shocked] b.g.! b.g.: [from out of frame] what? sandman: where are your clothes?! b.g.: I’m changing them. sandman: right here?? b.g.: you literally never wear clothes, sugarplum. sandman: [looking away and hiding in his face in his hat] not true! my cloak is my clothes, plus my hat. [a dark garment is tossed on the floor beside sandman] b.g.: [as she changes her clothes] are you serious? sandman: yes! b.g.: tsh. well that hardly seems fair. sandman: what are you talking about? b.g. you’ve seen me naked plenty of times; I’ve never seen you naked. sandman: [stammering] it-it’s not like that’s my fault! b.g.: [buttoning up a new shirt] really? ‘cause it seems like you could even this all out by just getting naked right now. sandman: [yelling] absolutely not! sandman: [still hiding, blushing] ...why do you care so much, anyway? b.g.: well you and I are supposed to be all about balancing each other, right? sandman: oh, spare me. you’re just pulling my strings because you like to see me squirm, aren’t you? b.g.: [now fully dressed, looming over a startled sandman with her face morphed into a scary smile] hm, perhaps, heh heh heh.

[scene break]

b.g.: [from out of frame] you’ve got to be more careful, you idiot. sandman: [inspecting a scratch on his arm that reveals some sand underneath his form-fitted burlap clothes] I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. it takes a lot more than that to really hurt me.  b.g.: you got lucky, sugarplum.  [b.g., whose hair is now longer and in a ponytail, pulls a loose string from his ripped t-shirt and bites it loose with his teeth] b.g.: [crouching down to sandman’s level and holding out his hand] give me your stupid arm. sandman: [looking confused] what? why? b.g.: [annoyed] so I can sew you up, sand-for-brains. sandman: [reaching to pull a wand out from his hat] you know I can just fix it with magic, right? b.g.: [yelling, losing some of his form’s composure and becoming slightly more monstrous] what, you think I can’t handle a simple bit of stitching?! sandman: I wish you’d quit being so dramatic. it’s really not a big deal. [sandman uses his wand to control some of the sand from his wound and uses the sand as thread to patch up his scratch, as if sewing. b.g. sits down next to sandman on the ground] b.g.: so sandman is pretty literal then, huh? you’re all sand under there? sandman: [slightly annoyed] for moon’s sake, sigh, if you must know, yes. b.g.: is it the same sand you cast with? sandman: er, no, not exactly. the sand I cast with doesn’t have feeling. b.g.: and the burlap isn’t actually a part of you? sandman: my cloak? not quite. it’s more like... enchanted armour. b.g.: and you don’t ever take it off? sandman: [clicking his tongue] tsk, this again? I can, I just usually don’t have any reason to. b.g.: what about for... well, you know. sandman: [distracting by his magic sewing] know what? b.g.: [glancing away and blushing slightly] ehh... nevermind.

end transcription and end ID.]

[whumpyreader]

Part Nine: The Púca

TW: just a trauma professional writing about trauma *eye roll*

When Louie woke next, Aurora had left his side. A pile of dried fish and green apples stared him in the face. How long had it been since he ate? He pushed himself onto his elbows and swept the food near his chest with his forearm. He tore out a chunk of apple, his taste buds exploding with the sweetness and reminding his stomach that he was, indeed, ravenous. The rest of the food was shoved into his mouth, as much as he could until he was forced to chew and swallow before shoving more in. His throat was parched and, once the food had disappeared, Louie crawled to the bank of the brook and stuck his head in.

With his belly sloshing with food and water, Louie pushed to his feet, keeping the blanket draped over him. He found his clothes and boots in the cave as well as his furs, now washed from any bloodstain. He pulled his clothes back on and sat down.

Aurora was nowhere to be seen.

But a rabbit was. A terrifyingly enormous rabbit with glowing red eyes and pitch-black hair. Its fur was scraggly and it sat on its haunches, nearly as large as Louie was.

Louie was going to be sick.

“Oh, you are not one for fun, eh?” The rabbit monster morphed into a human man.

Louie must have backpedaled because he now sat against the cave's wall, holding his thumping heart with one hand.

“I thought you would recognize me. Don't all humans know a púca?”

The man now stood and Louie nearly lost his mind to the terror. He screamed, ducking under his arms.

“What is the matter?” Aurora’s voice rang out.

Louie melted into a sob, worshipping her with relief in his eyes. “You left.”

“Only for a moment.”

“Who-who is,” Louie risked a glance at the human that stood nearby with his hands up in surrender. “What is that?”

Aurora stifled a pent-up breath. “Rupert. He is an old friend. I warned him to be gentle but…púcas are mischievous by nature.”

“A púca?”

“Are slaves not taught anything?”

Louie's idiocy was showing. He dropped his head, resolved to not dig a deeper hole for himself.

“Actually, they're not.” It was the púca’s voice this time, deep with sorrow. “I did not know you were a slave.”

“Not anymore,” Aurora stated. “Although we have a long way to go to make him human again.”

Louie's head shot up. “What?”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “You have given up. I feel it on your soul. Humans are stubborn by nature. They thrive where no other mammals can and they do it with naked skins and only two feet. Against all odds, humans thrive. You gave that up, Louie.”

By the moment, Louie was sounding more and more like a waste of air.

“Cheer up, human man. I have returned with good news. There is a way to make you whole again.”

Louie didn't want to be whole. He wanted to sleep. “Why is that important?” he huffed.

“Forgive me, I forgot,” Aurora softened. “Humans need choices. I did not make it clear that this was but a choice.” At his silence, Aurora continued, “Either you can come with me. I must go regardless of your decision. Or you can stay here. If you stay, you can sleep and eat as much as you want. If you come, there is a way to ignite your healed magic and it can heal you.”

“My magic is for healing?”

“Not directly, no. But it broke in your youth and once ignited it can heal your soul.”

Louie had been so focused on getting enough nutrients and rest for the last twenty years that it seemed pointless to heal a soul. What good was a soul anyway?

“Think on it,” Aurora decided. “Your screams interrupted me. I must get back to my work. I will return in a while.”

Louie was left with this Rupert who smiled sheepishly at him and waved.

“May I sit with you?”

If Aurora trusted the bunny then Louie had no qualls. “Yes.”

Rupert's body was warm against Louie's flank. “I've lived with your kind my entire life. Six hundred years now? My, how time flies.”

Louie folded his legs and just listened.

“I understand humans. Aurora does not understand.”

“What?”

“She does not understand why a human would want to live with a broken soul. She does not understand that that too is stubbornness.”

“Oh?”

“Forgive my forwardness but I have been around humans longer than you have. A human’s greatest danger is also what keeps them safe.”

“What is that?”

“Community. Community has been used against you and your stubbornness…I call it your will to thrive, is to bear the load and live one more day. You are more stubborn than a human in good community can understand. And Aurora, well, when she is being attacked, she has powers to make others submit. But when you are the one submitting, you can only change what is inside of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think Aurora has a point. You are too used to living with a broken soul. It's making you blind to what you truly want. Food and rest are not the only things a human needs.”

“What must I do to fix my soul?”

“Your soul will fix itself. All you have to do is give it what it needs.”

“What does it need?”

Rupert smiled and his eerie smile nearly touched his ears. “A better story.”

…

“I’ll come with you.”

The corner of Aurora’s lip twitched. “What did Rupert say to you?”

“On one condition though,” he continued, ignoring her question.

“Which is?”

“You give me one reason why fixing a broken soul is worth it.”

Her eyes widened momentarily before resuming to her normal, hardened face. “I can only speak from my experience.”

“That is alright.”

“Well, there is more to life than survival. Do you know what that is like?”

Louie did. “My childhood. Except, all my family is dead. There is no one waiting for me.”

“Then we shall find you family, if that is what you are wanting.”

Was that all he was wanting? Louie hadn’t had much time to ponder on what he longed for.

“Human man, you have much to learn about yourself. You would be a fool to stay here.”

It was what he had concluded as well. “What is it we are going to do?”

Aurora brightened. “Ah, not a fool after all. We are going back to the clan that sent you on this mission. I have unfinished business and you might be useful.”

He hoped so. It was better than staying in the cave alone.

“Ah, your trusty steed.”

Louie turned to see what Aurora now looked at and nearly gagged.

Rupert was now a horse, eyes glowing red, black hair too long to be normal, and his snout bearing his awful smile.

“I will travel in my storm. You, Louie, will ride this horse.”

Louie wanted anything but.

“I will meet you there.” With that, Aurora disappeared into the snow above. Like melting butter, the circle of warmth faded away as if it had been nothing but a dream.

The horse was slightly deformed, its belly too small and its ribs jutting out. It whipped its tail and smiled at Louie. “Aurora packed you this.” It twitched its back where a saddle pack was thrown over. “Full of apples and dried fish. Ready?”

Rupert was going to haunt Louie’s dreams for the rest of his life. He gripped the mangy mane and threw himself onto the beast. The body beneath was hot and fuzzy and Louie found himself wanting to vomit again.

“Hold on, human.”

[wellfell]

[ soothe ] sender kisses receiver to stop them from shaking / from rang 🥺

 inhumane , her screech akin to a wounded animal ; she will be screaming after her stolen life forever . the woods tremble in terror , akina's knees digging into the soft ground as she screams and screams . two arrow wounds bleed on her pale flesh , naked save for the veil tangled around thin form . it wouldn't kill her , but they aimed for the fatal wounds better than she imagined — just one more arrow and she'd be gone forever . just like that day . . .

 lee rang is a curious fox that won't leave her alone , in death and undead , he's still chasing after her . when akina was alive , when she was a human , she'd love it but right now she's not sure if her trembling form and whimpering wails are what he deserves to see .long fingers grip onto her bare arms , she's quieter now , soft whimpers are what she can manage for now . rang's touch startles her at first , half tempted to shove him away too . his chest breathes against her shoulder , his clothed knees press on the ground too ; ' shh , akina ' . akina , yes , she's akina , that was her name , the name only rang knows now .

 when her head tilts toward him , his lips brush against her temple . her breath catches in her throat , mimicking a small sob . when his lips catch hers it's more like asking for permission than actually kissing her – may i ? can i ? she's not as warm as she used to be , rosey cheeks pale , bright eyes dead . but she feels her magic slowly cower back inside her chest , where it won't hurt him , when he kisses her . akina's chin raises , her arms relax under the warm cage of his clothed ones , she even turns her upper half to catch his gasp in another kiss when he pulls away a little . now her brain works better , lets her realize he must have followed her into the forest when the villagers lost her . night breeze doesn't touch her skin , but it's swimming in her hair and making black locks tickle his cheek . they part only because rang has to breathe , she stares at his lips as a tear rolls down her cheek . it worked , whatever he had in mind by kissing her ; she's not screaming , she won't tell him where it hurts but she stopped screaming .

 ❛ . . . how did you find me ? ❜

  📼 accepting. : @dihvinity

[sstan-hoe]

𝑴𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — king!aemond targaryen × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Aegon fleed with success and now a new King is needed, Aemond is stepping up as King making you his Queen

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT; oral (m receiving), mhmm well king!aemond is a warning I feel

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — for the sake of this story we will ignore any mistakes I made around this whole Queen and King thing — based on this fanart — tbh this has series potential, I have a lot of ideas

Aegon fleed successfully and now Kings Landing is in need of a new King.

Aemond Targaryen would rule, his children would be the new heir to the Iron Throne. He would be crowned in front of the people, in the sept, under the gods to show them who the true king is.

“But you’re not the true King my love,” you whispered against his cheek as he laid in bed next to you, your intentions were not to be mean and he knew that.

“I know,” he answered. He himself didn’t even know what they had planned and how they wanted to convince everyone he was the heir. Yes, he wanted to be king and even told Aegon that if they would be searching for him, he would let them find him.

However he had his doubts if he was even accepted as king and what if his sister the actual heir would come after his family because he was king?

“I always wanted to rule, but with all this…I’m not sure anymore,” he admitted in a quiet tone. Your hand softly strokes over his naked, pale chest. This action of yours always gave him comfort, he needed your touch.

“We will do this together and when Rhaenyra comes we will bend the knee,” you proposed. Aemond gave you a heavy sigh, “I’m afraid that we cannot do my love.”

You sit yourself up, your hand trailing to his cheek, “Aemond-,” you were interrupted by the door opening. Both of you looked at the entrance with big eyes.

Queen Alicent walks into the room, “Aemond! You have higher duties now, you cannot lay in bed until supper. You know very well today is the day you will be crowned,” she stated and motioned for a few maids to follow her inside.

She looked at Aemond, “you will be king,” then her eyes flicked to you, “and you will be queen.” There was no room for argument.

You pulled the duvet over your breasts to shield yourself from the queen's eyes, a part of the blanket was over Aemond’s member. The soon to be king rolled his eye, “do you mind turning around mother? We would like to get dressed.”

The woman huffed and turned her back to the married couple before leaving. Aemond gave you a reassuring smile before standing up to get his clothes.

The maids helped you get dressed, you had already chosen a specific dress yesterday. It was a black satin dress with red lace, a slit through the middle of your chest which allowed everyone to see the rounds of your breasts. The dress however did have long sleeves and fell down to your feet.

Aemond was the one who said you should wear a black dress with dark red lace, he wanted you in the traditional Targaryen colors.

When you were finished with dressing up and putting on your jewelry you walked into the throne room alongside Aemond. Everyone was already waiting for you, for him. Left to the throne you saw Haelena with her children, you could imagine she was glad that Aegon ran away.

Alicent walked up to the two of you with Otto Hightower trailing behind her. “My dear, please go with Otto. Aemond, you and I will ride in the carriage,” she ordered and waltzed past you with the expectation that Aemond would follow her - which he did.

That left you with Otto and his cold demeanor, “please follow me,” he said and began walking away into the direction of Haelena.

“When do you think you and your wife will have a child?” Alicent asked her son. Aemond kept himself from rolling his eye, “soon mother, we are working hard and at the looks of it we will know for sure by the next moon.”

He knew his mother tried to lighten up the tension in the carriage, it was thick enough to slice with a sharp knife.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the sept, the folk already there. His mother stood up and touched his cheek gently, “you will be a good king,” she reassured him before stepping out and leaving him alone.

After a few minutes the door opened and Aemond stepped out. Knights made two rows and marched into the sept leaving room in the middle. Music was played and the nights pulled out their swords and lifted them in the air, forming a triangle shape above them.

Aemond came in and slowly walked down the way, his head held high and eye searching for you. Behind him the knights took their swords down.

Finally he came to the end of the path and found you, but he had to keep his gaze on his mother who stood on top of the stairs in her familiar green gown. She looked powerful on top of the stairs, intimidating.

Aemond Targayren walked up the stairs and stopped in front of his mother, she laid her hands on his face guiding it down to give him a soft kiss on the forehead.

Alicent stepped to the side, now Aemond stood before the high septon. He got down on one knee, the septon spoke his words and wet Aemonds forehead with holy water. The septon gave ser Criston Cole the crown of Aegon the Conqueror, the knight stepped before Aemond and sat the black crown with red jewels on his head.

“Aemond Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm!” he announced.

Aemond stood up, he looked at the septon who bowed his head, the Criston and Alicent who did the same, his gaze landed on you and Haelena both of you following, lastly was Otto Hightower who got a challenging glimpse from Aemonds eye and then bowed his head.

Slowly Aemond turned around, ser Cole raised his voice again, “Aemond Targaryen, the new king!”

The crowd cheered and Aemond took a moment to admire it then he got his sword out and lifted it into the air.

The Seven Kingdoms had a new king, right or not the folk only saw him.

The feast in the throne room ran at full speed, Aemond sat on the Iron Throne while the people danced or congratulated him. You could see how tired he was and wished for him that this day would end soon.

“I have an announcement to make,” Aemond suddenly raised his voice, causing you to look at him surprised, “I have given this much thought....My wife, my love will not be queen consort,” there was a heavy pause and you held your breath, “she will be the queen regnant. My wife will be my equal, she will be able to make decisions without me.”

Everyone was shocked. Most men looked at Aemond with disbelief, they wondered how he could give a woman so much power while the women in the room looked pleased minus Alicent.

Then the door opened and in walked a knight with a golden crown with red rubies, aside from the color and stones, it looked exactly like Aemond’s. A way to underline that he wanted you to be his equal.

Your mouth was dry, you had no words. Aemond gently took your hand and guided you in front of him. A servant came running to put a pillow before your feet as Aemond looked down as a sign for you to get on your knees.

Doing as he wished you kneeled down, “Y/n Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm,” were his words. You were stunned he took Targaryen as your last name, yes you were married but to many you're still known as Lady Tyrell.

Aemond laid the crown on your head, “do you promise to protect the Seven Kingdoms with all your power?” he asked you. “Yes, your grace, I do,” you answered.

Your husband gave you a proud smile as he helped you stand up, “the queen of the Seven Kingdoms!” he announced the room was silent until a woman started cheering and the others followed her.

“Come, we have to sit on the throne…,” Aemond whispered against the shell of your ear. You looked confused as he took you with him to the Iron Throne, he sat down and pulled you along with him, seating you on his lap. You gently stroke his cheek, “my love, do you realize what you just did?” you ask him carefully.

“I made you my equal, my queen. I love you,” Aemond said, his tone full of adoration for you.

Nothing made you want to sleep with Aemond more than him telling you he loved you. You leaned in against his head, “how long do we have to stay here?” you asked, confusing Aemond in the process.

“I’m not sure, are you tired? Do you not feel well? Is it all too much?” Aemond instantly began worrying which had you giggle uncontrollably, “no, my love! But I do feel a certain pressure…here,” you had taken Aemond’s hand and guided it down to your cunt. His eye widened at the realization, quickly he looked around to make sure no one saw your action which had you smirking.

“You know how much I love riding a dragon, it would be a shame if we’d be stuck here for hours,” you whined playfully. The king knew exactly that you chose the words wisely.

“I think I’m quite tired, let’s retreat,” he said and you could feel how he got hard under you. “Can I have everyone’s attention please? Thank you. My wife and I will retreat for the day. We thank you for celebrating this joyous day with us and hope to have you stay on our side. Good night,” Aemond said loudly, the people clapped after he finished his speech and as you walked through the crowd people bid you goodnight.

“That was very king-like,” you praised your husband, “mhm and you were not very queen-like with your naughty tongue,” he retorted with a smirk.

You looked at him with innocent eyes. “I think it is time that you plead your loyalty to your king,” Aemond said, the smirk still present on his plumb lips, “on your knees,” he demanded, his voice strong and with no room for arguments.

Within seconds you were on your knees in front of him, he undid his trousers and let them fall to the ground. His hard cock sprang free, his leaking tip hitting his lower stomach. “Hands stay behind your back,” he warned you. Aemond’s hand fisted your hair to make sure he was in full control even though you both knew you could stop him at any given time.

“Tongue,” at his demand you stuck out your tongue. Aemond placed his angry tip on your tastebuds, stroking them. He pushed his length along your tongue until he entered your throat, a gagging noise could be heard from you which only spurred him on.

A heavy groan left Aemond’s lips, his muscles relaxed and his eyes fell shut as the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. The king was still holding back, he knew how hard it was for you to adjust to his size.

“You feel wonderful my love, I wish I could have my cock in your mouth at all times,” he whispered in a low voice. The fine hairs on your neck rose up, his voice always felt alluring to you, like a siren singing her song to catch the poor sailors. All you wanted in this moment was please him, please your king, now and forever.

You chased his praise and moved your head deeper into him, gagging as his tip hit the back of your throat. Aemond snapped, his will to go slow now completely gone.

He thrusted his hips roughly against your mouth. Drool dripping down your chin, it got harder for you to breath with every thrust he made, desperately you tried to breath through your nose.

Tears flowed from your eyes. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth and tears running down your cheeks, my good little cockslut,” Aemond praised you, his voice cracking as your tongue licked on his thick vein. Your eyes focused on his stomach, your full attention on making him feel good when suddenly your head was yanked back.

“Look me in my eyes when I fuck your throat,” Aemond ordered with a low growl, as you looked up your eyes widened. Aemond One-Eye had taken off his eye patch revealing the royal blue sapphire that adorned his face.

Aemond knew he didn’t have to hide from you and how much you loved his sapphire eye. You couldn’t break your gaze from Aemond’s sapphire even if you wanted to, it had you in a tight grip…just like your husband.

“Fuck, I can’t come in your mouth…not today, today I will make sure to leave my cum in your tight little cunt, make sure you’re round and full with my heirs. I will keep you stuffed the whole night.” He pulled your head from his cock in a swift motion, you were still looking up at him as his cock landed on your face. Your king coated your face with your own spit mixed with his precum.

“Stand up,” he demanded, grip still tight on your hair. Aemond towered over you as you stood to your full height, he gave you a sinister smile. Tilting your head back, Aemond licked a long stripe along your face, collecting your salty tears, “mhm…your tears taste divine.”

A shaky breath left your lips at his action, “are you wet for you king?” he asked as he kissed down your cheek to the swell of your breasts. “Yes, yes, so fucking wet,” you confessed tipping your head back in pleasure. Aemond loosened your dress, you were completely relaxed and let him strip the dress off your shoulders.

As the dress fell off your body Aemond admired your beauty. He adored you and couldn't believe how he had gotten a beautiful woman like you.

“Lay on the bed for me,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing your skin. Doing as told you laid down in the comfortable king size bed. You tried to calm your breathing as Aemond slowly took off his clothes, putting everything but his belt aside.

The king walked around the bed, tying your hands with the belt and a smirk on his perfect lips. The wasn't too tight but tight enough to leave marks. Aemond loved to mark you up and you both were aware that you wouldn't complain about it.

“Now, I'm going to show you what happens when you tease your king.”

𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑹𝒀𝑬𝑵𝑺 — @georgiapeach30513

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | @sstanhoe-updates blog where new fics will always be reblogged in case you're not interested in the taglist as it has conditions

[reashot]

New Years Hangover

Jaune is woken up by the first sun of the new years.

Jaune: Uhhh my head what just happened... I felt like I been hit by a truck... Why am I naked?

Ruby: Ahhh Good morning... And happy new years Jaune. ☺

Jaune: R-Ru-Ruby why, why are you in my bed. And where are your clothes. D-did we do it last night?

Ruby: What? N--

Why yes... We did do it last night. Multiple times actually. And we did it all night long and in every position imaginable and unimaginable. You even filled me with so much of your baby batter I can't even close it right. 😏

Jaune: Oh gods I'm a monster... I'm a horrible drunk monster for laying my hands on you.

Ruby: It's true. You actually took my first time. And I didn't have the time to give consent. 🫢

Jaune: What? Say it is not so. Please Ruby tell me I didn't do you know what...

Ruby: I'm afraid so. You forced yourself on me Jaune... Even when I told you many times not to... 😌

Jaune: I, I, I will give myself up to the Vale Police the first thing I do... I'm sorry Ruby, I'm so sorry.

Ruby: 😧!!! Oh no you don't! You can't give yourself up! 😨

Jaune: B-but Ruby I did something horrible to you...

Ruby: Y-you just can't! Okay, because, because I'm pregnant with your baby!!! 😫

Jaune: You what???!!!!

Ruby: Y-yes that's it. Ain't no way I'm gonna let my baby daddy go to prison. You don't want little Jaune junior to grow up without a dad do you? 👶

Jaune: I, I guess not but a baby... I guess I have to take responsibility by marrying you then. I mean you're my best friend. So getting married to you maybe isn't so bad.

Ruby: Yes Jaune you have to take responsibility for putting a bun in my oven. Now you have no choice but to marry me. 😈

While Ruby gaslight Jaune into marrying her something stir under a blanket near the two of them.

Ciel: *Yawn* Good morning everyone... Oh it's this time already.

Jaune: Why are you naked too? Oh gods did I do something to you too?

Ciel: *grabs Jaune arm to snuggle* Can't you tell?

Ruby: What?! No don't trust that hussy! You only did it with me Jaune. 😡

Ciel: Actually you did it with both of us... You made us service you together, then you take your time taking turn with us, forcing us to came and then you finished inside both us... I think I might already be pregnant with your child, daddy.

Jaune: I, I, I....

Ruby: You lying Bitch!!! Stay away from my man! 🤬

Ciel: Hey all is fair in love and war... And besides a Man like Jaune is wasted on you. He is better suited with someone like me.

While the two girls trying to claw each other eyes out. Something starts to stir under the blanket again...

Penny: Salutation! Friend Ruby, Ciel and Jaune.

*glomp at Jaune's chest*

Ruby: Penny? What are you doing here and why are you also naked?

Penny: Greetings friend Ruby, both Ciel and I were invited to celebrate new years festivity. Then friend Jaune accidentally ingest some alcohol....

Jaune: That's it! Please tell me what happened Penny. Did I do something to both Ruby and Ciel while I'm blacked out?

Penny: Ahh.... No you did not do anything to both friend Ruby and Ciel.

Jaune: Oh sweet, mother of. Thank you, oh lord. I'm not a rapi-

Penny: You did it with all three of us.

Jaune: *internally screaming*

Penny: In fact after you done with both of them. You start lusting after me saying. "Ha, ha, now that I had both Rupus, and Cipus now I want the Ropus" Then you starts to ravish me, tore of my dress, then stuck your gigantic cable inside of me, then pour some white liquids inside of me. And now I might have a little mini penny soon.

Jaune: I-I think might need some time to process this...

Ruby: No Jaune she's lying, you only did it with me and Robot can't get pregnant. 🤰

Ciel: Yes you only have to take responsibility for me. Don't worry about these others two. Just dump them somewhere in the alley.

Penny: He, he Friend Ruby and Ciel this game is so fun.

Jaune: Don't treat me like I'm some sort of a game!!!

Meanwhile outside the room peeking inside to watch the scene of carnage.

Yang: LOL this is so much fun. I should give Jaune more alcohol if I get to see more of this.

Weiss: You seriously need to get another hobby.

Blake:

Heh, heh, *slurp* more, more, I need more. More fuel for my novel!

Yang: And I think Blake has lost it...

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