#Parting Gift

[sicktember]

One last post before signing out 🫡

As promised, here is one last parting gift from your 2021-2024 Sicktember mods, @obsessionoftheday and @yes-i-am-happyaspie

Eight Sickfic Prompts From Us to You! We hope you enjoy them!

[Text version of prompts below the cut]

1. “The only reason I’m here is to make sure you don’t die.”

2. “You could have at least brought me a Get Well balloon/card.”

3. “If you throw up, I’ll throw up!”

4. “I need you.”

5. “Stop coughing! We’re at a funeral/wedding!”

6. “I do NOT need you to read me a story!”

7. “Why would you be in trouble for getting sick!?”

8. “I don’t have a fever, I’m just warm.”

[blu3haw4]

Hi! Hello, you guys remember I said I had an extended shot for Clexmas free day that was basically done? That I told you to forget about when I posted the little oneshots? That I thought I would be able to write before the year was over? 😅 Well it's here! After days and days of neglecting it and then hours of writing and editing and writing some more and then... much more than I originally planned.

A continuation of my Clextober contribution The Halloween Party

For Clexmas 2024, Day 7: Free day (already on AO3)

and a little bonus only for tumblr

The Christmas Party(es)

“Gala? Define gala?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll pick your dress”

“You will absolutely not pick my dress, Clarke!” Lexa all but stumped on her feet, standing in Clarke’s living room as the blonde lay on her couch.

“Why not? Aren’t there more important things you should worry about?”

And she might have a point, these past two months have been full of gathering information on the hunters and possible enemy creatures -they’ve also been full of making out, but they don’t talk about that- and tonight it might all come together. They have a few leads on the hunters’ plan and tonight might be the chance to crack exactly how much they know about the wolves and if they’re getting help from the creatures they suspect.

“Look there’s a lot of names and faces you should at least know of. Did you read the subjects these people like to talk about that I sent you?” Clarke pressed, still very casually laying on her couch.

Because that was the key point of this particular party, it wasn’t just about the hunters, it was about the people who founded them, knowingly or not. The people that are throwing this Christmas gala aren’t all hunters, and they were the people Clarke thought they should worry about the most.

“I- didn’t, I mean yeah, I looked them over-”

“You need to know what they’ll be talking about; we’re not going to get anywhere near the information you want if they clock the fact that you’re not one of them. This is a fancy, glamorous Christmas themed party. An excuse to look hot and show off their money, really” Clarke rolled her eyes dramatically “If we don’t look and act the part, they’ll kick us out in not time”

Lexa sighed, Clarke had a point- “So… you worry about the character details, and I will worry about us dressing the part”

“Clarke-”

“Our outfits will match, and they’ll be bulletproof!” Clarke grinned, sitting up with excitement.

“Bulletproof?” Lexa yelped “We’re planning for that type of night?” she asked -ignoring the matching thing- concerned… only to have Clarke’s mood immediately change.

“No” she huffed “but we didn’t think Halloween was going to be one of those night either and yet…” Clarke looked up with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, still bitter about outcome of that night.

And okay, that was fair.

That night hadn’t ended in any of the ways Lexa had expected.

After telling Clarke not to follow -mostly so she wouldn’t have to face the consequences of their make out. Too drunk and too shaken to even consider what to say and how processes the argument between her head and her heart… and her pussy, a little, if she was honest- she ran to the warning howls of her people.

It hadn’t been an emergency, but she had decided to go anyways because Indra’s team had been ambushed by hunters. They had had encounters with them before, but mostly because they had been purposely sniffing around their business. This time, the hunters had been the ones to track them down.

When Lexa arrived, both Anya and Indra’s teams were fighting a big group of hunters in between alleys, and she joined in even though she knew they had it under control. The ringing of their silenced shotguns had stopped for a few minutes while most hunters were forced into hand-to-hand combat.

Then, one singular shot rang out followed by a loud curse.

“What. The Fuck?!"

Lexa had turned to look just in time to see Clarke grabbing the wrist of the hunter who shot her as a second shot ran out, said bullet hitting the wall beside them. There was a bullet hole in the back of her dress with a stain of blood dripping from the closed wound where the bullet had clearly made it out.

“You just ruined my fucking dress!” was the anticlimactic sentence that left Clarke’s mouth before she lashed out cracking a few of the hunter’s bones and throwing him away.

She launched herself to the other hunters and got shot in the stomach before she could take the remaining three out.

“Fucking… Fuckers!” She shouted, breathing a little heavy and clearly -at least to Lexa- drunk “I loved this dress, you bitch!” she scowled kicking a dead hunter to the other side of the alley.

Whit a look, Lexa sent both teams away and didn’t care that Anya and Indra both remained when she approached Clarke. With a million things in her head, there was really nothing she could do when the words out of her mouth were “I told you not to follow”

The huff Clarke let out felt like a slap in the face, she turned sharply to look at her with a deep frown “I wasn’t. I was literally on my way home, when I got fucking shot!” She exasperated, and didn’t bother to avoid her shoulder when she walked past her “You’re welcome, by the way” she huffed before jumping all the way up to her building’s roof top.

Because of course the fight happened right beside her place.

So okay, it was cool that their dresses were bulletproof. What was probably not okay was Clarke picking the type of dress Lexa would wear.

“Tik-tak, Heda”

“Okay fine! I’ll read about these people, you pick my dress, but Clarke-” She warned her, pointing at her with a look stopping the vampire’s excitement “Have them ready two days before”

“What?  Why?”

“So I can make sure you picked something appropriate or find something else” Lexa huffed as she started to walk out the door.

“Of course it’s going to be appropriate! What makes you think I would pick something inappropriate?” Clarke asked with a smirk.

Lexa turned around and they shared a look, one that ran out all the memories they’ve shared these past two months, one that showed how easy it would be to stop pretending like none of it happened and let loose.

After Halloween they didn’t contact each other for a week, Lexa making herself busy gathering and connecting the information they had, and Clarke… well, living her life as far as Lexa could tell. Anya kept her updated without Lexa asking, she didn’t follow her, but Clarke kept showing up when Anya and her team were on their vigilante’s adventures as she had been since before Halloween.

When they finally saw each other again they just jumped straight to business mode, with Lexa filling Clarke in on the theories she had, and Clarke helping her plan meetings with specific creatures she thought could or would help.

They went out five times in two weeks.

At the end of the first night, they cleared the air with a few jokes about the fight; it had clearly been a coincidence. Jokes about the fight, though, turned to jokes about the night, which turned into flirting and easily, naturally, turned into them kissing.

It was intoxicating, addictive. Lexa kept trying to avoid it, or so she told herself as each night she continued to proposedly, actively push for it to happen.

And throughout-fully enjoy it.

They never talked about it, but just as each night they got bolder and bolder, each next time Clarke looked more and more sure that they should mention it. If only to make sure it keeps happening…

Or maybe Lexa was projecting, but it was easier to pretend like she was just giving in to what Clarke wanted than to admit to herself how much she craved it.

So once again, she shut it down.

“Two days earlier Clarke!” she called before closing the door.

“Ugh. Fine”

-

The dress was fine, with a little more cleavage than Lexa would’ve liked -she would reconsider later-, but perfectly appropriate. The silky cloth bunching around her hips made her feel good and the way the open back teased the end off her tattoo was just about everything she wanted Clarke to focus on. The color also, matched perfectly to Clarke’s jumpsuit, which was… way more appropriate that Lexa anticipated.

Somehow that made it so much worse for her.

Because she prepared for long milky legs, for too short skirt and a teas of her ass, she prepared for cleavage and a perfectly shaped necklace falling in between, she didn’t prepare for Clarke’s arms to be the most skin showed, for the power she extruded with her hands on her pokes and the sexy show of her clavicles on top of the flat line of her jumpsuit’s collar that fell, perfectly covering the actual size of her boobs. She prepared to resist the urge to stare at Clarke’s body, not her face.

Because, damn it, her face.

Clarke absolutely noticed, all too content to stare at Lexa’s cleavage to ‘make it even’ and make a show of speaking oh so close to her face to ‘cover the staring’  -“you can know, but they can’t” she said with a smirk and a wink- it was ridiculous and way too distracting but somehow… it was working to their favor.

Each conversation they took part on moved them closer to the people they needed, and it all felt effortless, they laughed at the most classist comments and Lexa had to cover her reaction each time Clarke threw one of her own like second nature with that light drop of sarcasm underneath. They stared at each other way too much and hushed little jokes about how full of themselves these people were. They flirted a lot too; it was a little ridiculous how little of their sentences lacked flirt honestly, but it was fun, and it was working and Lexa felt good.

Until she didn’t.

Moving closer to the people they needed meant she started to recognize the faces she had studied. And then some. There were a bunch of hunters she spied on from afar on their missions, and many she easily remembers from the warehouse, all mingling with the wealthy people who founded them. Eyes were always on her since they walked in, and now she started questioning if it was because they recognized her more than because of how hot they both looked.

Her heartbeat picked up and her breath heaved as she tried her best to discretely check her surroundings. Lexa mindlessly started walking into a more secluded area of the gallery they were at, not caring or noticing if Clarke followed.

Her vision started clouding and her hearing got randomly specific, picking up on sentences and then jumping to another person, another heartbeat, another click of heels. Her smell wasn't helping either, only making her overwhelmed- and where the fuck was the exit!

Unable to recognize or care where she was going in her haste to get out, she failed to realize she was walking into the corridors of the gallery instead of outside. Her ears and nose picking up the scent of a guard far too late, and her feet not listening, never stopping, but somehow, she did.

In two blinks her back was against the wall and the only thing all her senses could notice was Clarke. All over her, body pressed fully into hers, a hand interwinding with hers and the other in her hair, her lips on hers, nose pressing to her cheek, Clarke’s hip in her hand.

It was grounding, and all the same earth-shattering. Her breath caught and she caught Clarke’s tongue with her lips, her body molded to her instinctively, one hand squeezed Clarke’s and the other pulled at her hips to keep her close.

It didn’t feel like a loss when Clarke’s lips left hers. It took Lexa a second to blink back into reality and realized Clarke had pulled her face away, looking to the side and talking-

“Yes, sir, we’ll be right out” The vampire smiled apologetically at the guard and used her hold on Lexa to pull her away from the wall and down the corridor back to the main room.

Some of the panic came back but was soothed by the soft caressing of Clarke’s hands on the back of hers and the comforting press of the other over the small of her back. In no time they were out on a huge balcony with stairs down into the giant flower yard and Lexa came back to her senses enough to let go of Clarke’s hand, step away from her and lean over the railing.

Lexa could tell Clarke was giving her time to breathe it out, to calm her heart and mind.

“Am I… the only one who knows?” Clarke asks eventually, and Lexa doesn’t answer right away.

She looks at her, trying to play dumb, but Clarke just tilts her head and gives Lexa a soft look, gives her time to accept it.

So, Lexa nods. Small and tired and she looks down and away.

Clarke gets closer to her “We should go”

“We can’t” Lexa immediately raises her eyes “The intel-“

“We can get it another time. You shouldn’t be here”

“I’ll be fine. I- I just needed a minute-“

“Lexa. You can’t be here” Clarke says grabbing her chin softly, Lexa thinks it might be pity. But under deeper examination there’s nothing but understanding in those eyes.

Lexa’s ready to argue still, but Clarke starts talking again “What you went through was traumatizing, okay? I bet you’re telling yourself you’re a big bad wolf and that you’ve been hurt thousands of times before and that you can handle it. But you freaking out like this? Instinctively running away and losing control of your senses? You have PTSD. And you shouldn’t have to face the people who caused it before you’re ready. I won’t let you; you deserve time to heal from it… Okay?”

Lexa blinks once, twice, she can’t be sure, but the millisecond Clarke’s eyes change tell her that her own might’ve gotten a little sparkle right before her hands tangled in Clarke’s hair to kiss her, hard and deep, and so good. Clarke loses her balance for a second before recovering and holding onto Lexa for dear life.

It’s only one kiss, it lasts a full minute but it’s only one. Lexa parts with a sigh and Clarke licks her lips, smiling dopily.

“Are we really gonna continue not talking about this?” she whispers, and Lexa can’t believe how easily Clarke gets silly.

“I think I’ve made it clear that it is not about the job. What else do you want to talk about?” She replies after a beat. And Clarke stares at her like she wants to say something, like she would like to talk about it more, instead she rejoins their lips softly.

She moves smoothly and presses Lexa against the railing in the balcony as they continue to make out. Lexa noticed the high -highest- heels Clarke picked for herself, realized she had hopes of getting to be taller, or at least the same height as Lexa tonight, but she should’ve known the she-wolf would go all out as well.

They hear people making their way over the balcony, and they maybe push their luck a little when they only separate right as the people are turning the corner. They smile at each other and bite down on their lips to suppress the urge to kiss. They walk away as casually as they can while practically glued to each other.

-

A couple of days later Clarke texts Lexa telling her there’s a corporate party that weekend, she tells her it’s way more casual than the gala and they talk all about their outfits. Lexa arrives at Clarke’s that Saturday in her dark green slick blouse and a black flannel skirt to find Clarke in a mouthwatering dark green long sleeve velvet dress much shorter than Clarke had mentioned, and with much more cleavage.

“Hey! You look great! We should go, I might’ve misread the invite, and we might be a little late”

“What? What about the plan, you didn’t tell me what we have to do, who will be there, what’s the-“

“Oh right, yeah. Uhm, no plan. Just… be you… well, human you”

“But the… intel?”

“It’s… well-” Clarke sighs and Lexa frowns at her, she’s going to ask again when Clarke pulls her into her apartment “You see that folder over there?” She points at her kitchen counter “That’s all and more information than we would’ve gotten last weekend…”

Lexa blinks a few times, not sure what to make of the information and how to feel about it, at her silence Clarke continues “I-Uhm, got it this week and it will be there when we get back… tonight is my studio’s corporate party, and it’s just… for fun” She shrugs, and Lexa can’t tell if she’s nervous or just not used to been honest and serious at the same time.

Lexa doesn’t move, looking between the folder on the kitchen counter and a very sexy looking Clarke. Since she said casual but classy, Lexa opted for knee high boots to compliment her outfit, while Clarke wore the same high heels from the formal gala meaning Lexa was eye level with… a wonderful view.

“You …? You” Lexa sighs a laugh in disbelief, all Clarke does is smile at her and fo willingly when Lexa leans up and pulls her down for a kiss.

They melt into it for the short time it last and Lexa looks at Clarke yearningly when they part, not knowing what to say or how to thank her. Clarke seems to get it though, or wants to dismiss it, because she pecks her lips one more time and slide her hands into hers.

“Ready to go? I wasn’t lying when I said we might be late” she says with a wink.

She’s so fucked.

-

The party was so much fun. Clarke gave Lexa a bottle of the same elixir they drank at the Halloween party so they could get drunk and they drank too much wine and champagne and ate every little appetizer offered to them. Lexa met Clarke’s work friends -though she refused to refer to them as anything but colleagues- Bellamy and Wells, as well as Clarke’s boss Abigail; a woman that reminds Lexa of Indra in many ways, including the warm look in her eyes under the stoic façade.

Lexa gets to learn a lot about Clarke’s life here, she learns that Clarke Griffin is a 27 going on 28 years old graphic designer who works from home and only shows up at the office for important meetings or specific deadlines. She’s nice to everyone but almost never goes out, she’s still known for holding her booze and killing it at darts. She’s closer to Bellamy and Wells because they are the only people beside their boss that spend most of their time away from the office, they are down to earth, and Clarke swears they’ve hooked up but she can’t prove it.

They spend most of the time just talking quietly to each other. It’s easy to smile more and lean into Clarke. To touch her hand and caress her arms, to soak in the warmth of Clarke’s hands on her hips and back.

To comfortably slide her glace sideways and be met with Clarke’s cleavage.

A much better view than the one from the top of the five stories building. That wasn’t anything spectacular, but the ambiance given to the rooftop with little fairy lights and a few benches around the edge made it look cozy despite the breeze. Made it even easier to get handsy with Clarke while they make out in one of the benches after Clarke guided Lexa up the emergency stairs, a few hours into the party declaring they were done mingling.

They part their lips eventually because even though Clarke doesn’t need to breath Lexa does. She heaves a breath and tries not to be embarrassed about it as they share a look, she’s not very classy straddling Clarke as she lays on her back. Her skirt is up too high as she leans on her elbows on either side of Clarke’s head. Her breathing shouldn’t be an issue, honestly. Their mouths are inches apart, but Lexa doesn’t let Clarke lean up as she looks at her eyes with a tilt of her head.

“What’s so interesting?”

“Your eyes... are shifting” Lexa realizes “Black and blue”

“Must be that I’m thirsty” Clarke winks with an overly confident smirk.

“They were red at the gala” Lexa deflects “After we made out” she smirks and Clarke full on grins with another wink.

“Again. Thirst”

“What's the difference?”

Clarke huffs with a pout after trying to lean up for a kiss again and getting a question instead “I hope you know I was having much more fun when we were kissing”

“Well miss, you ask a lot of questions about werewolf and answer none about vampires, so indulge me for once”

With another huff and a slight eye roll Clarke starts taking “you know the black is hunger. Red is... similar, is hunger while there's blood in my system”

“So, you haven't fed?”

“Not... that recently”

“Shouldn't you?”

“I’m fine. If they shift when I kiss you what do you think that means?”

Lexa smirks, but deflects again “so you feel it? When they shift?”

“Can you?” Clarke deflects as well, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah” Lexa answers right away, shifting her eyes to red, her signature alpha color “just like I can feel my fangs and... every other part of shifting”

Clarke hums and frows slightly “I can't... mostly. I know they go black when I get my fangs out and I can... feel? Like they might be black when I'm too thirsty. And I can will them to red. I do feel that one... it's almost like they are actually filling with blood.”

“Whoa... that's… insane”

“You know what's insane?” And she leans up to kiss her. Lexa sighs a giggle into her mouth and feels Clarke smirk into the kiss as well.

“We should get you something to eat” Lexa hushes between kisses.

“I’m fine right here”

“We could go and come back. Kill a bad guy and be back”

“Kill? In these outfits?!” Clarke yelps pulling back from the kiss “Are you insane? I ain't spilling on this dress”

Lexa huffs a little laugh and tries again “Well drink from some-...” only to stop, not wanting to finish that sentence, to suggest Clarke go out to make out with someone else.

“I shouldn't. I could accidentally kill 'em” Clarke shrugs and Lexa tilts her head once again, confused… Only to have Clarke chuckle.

“I need to tell you how much of a puppy you look when you do that”

It’s an instant reaction at the name, to fang out, shift her eyes and growl out “don't call me that”

Clarke doesn’t flinch, because of course she doesn’t. With Lexa still lowly growling Clarke pecks her lips “Sorry” and kisses her again “I won’t-” but this time Lexa sits up when Clarke leans a third time.

She huffs and gets comfortable on Clarke’s pelvis “What did you mean?” She asks, because she won’t let Clarke get away with it after she -unknowingly- insulted her. Now matter how outstandingly beautiful she looked laying under her “Accidentally, how?”

“You just don't let thing go do ya?”

“You just can't give a straight answer, can you?”

“Can't do much straight” Clarke grins with a way-over-the-top wink.

Lexa resist, tries her best at containing a smile, cover her giggle with a huff and an eye roll. She knows Clarke can see right through but nevertheless, it works. Clarke sighs and rolls her eyes as hard as she can.

“I told you the black eyes are hunger but... I like to think of it more as instinct. And blue eyes are... consciousness. Instinct and consciousness fight all the time. Hunger triggers instinct, instinct takes over consciousness. Just from hunger my eyes turn black, they do when I scent blood. Imagine how it goes when I taste it” Clarke shrugs casually, and Lexa can’t help but like it “told you I can't really feel when they're shifting, but I can tell instinct is trying to take over”

Lexa hums, ignoring the relief of knowing Clarke won't be kissing other people... tonight at least “so it is trying to take over now” she says, trying to quiet her mind.

Clarke sighs again, roll her eyes pointedly at her and Lexa notices they’re blue “yeah” she leans up on her elbows “but it's manageable, no one's bleeding out” She raises her eyebrows with a tilt of her as she gets closer to her face “Also I have bags of blood at home” she winks with a little smirk.

“Oh so we still have time” Lexa smirks too not giving into the kiss yet.

“Preferably to continue the kissing” Clarke groans, pulls at her by the hips and connects their lips. Lexa nods giggling into the kiss, and interweaving her hands in Clarke's hair to deepen the kiss.

*

Bonus. Clarke's PoV (not on ao3)

The kiss is full of tongue and teeth, deep and dirty, Clarke’s hands grabs at Lexa to pull her close, nuzzle her nose with her when Lexa pulls back to take a breath and dives right back into it when Lexa captures her lips again. It’s a well know dance they do, have been doing for the past two months, Lexa no longer hiss when her tongue graces Clarke’s fangs, and she lets Clarke nib on her lower lip, even pouting it out for her.

Is totally accidental when on a particular hard kiss, Clarke nibs a little too hard tearing Lexa’s skin and making her bleed a little. Lexa hisses and pulls away quickly, licks her lip and the wound is already closed. Clarke zeros in on Lexa’s mouth, her own mouth still parted until Lexa kisses her again, clearly having moved on.

Clarke answers the kiss on instinct, grabbing at Lexa more firmly and pulling her close, even closer, impossibly closer. Because she got a taste, a taste of the blood she scented however many months ago and ruined her for worse; made her unable to follow a patter of feeding and unable to satiate from any blood that wasn’t Lexa’s.

She knew it couldn’t be just that she was a wolf, she knew it couldn’t be about her been an alpha, but hell desperation drove her places and she tried both, mind controlling both wolfs to forget about it after and ending up equally as unsatisfied as with any human.

Lexa parts with a heavy breath, holding Clarke’s head and keeping her from chasing. But doesn’t she try, angles for her jaw and only blinks back to reality when Lexa pulls at her hair -and so what if that turned her on?-

‘I need to feed’ she thinks, still staring at Lexa’s lips, processing the addictiveness of Lexa’s blood, just a drop and it was intoxicating. She blinks again, realizing Lexa isn’t diving back like before. She licks her lips and looks up to see Lexa watching her.

Is it possible to smirk only with your eyes?

“Do you need to go home?” She asks, sweetly because of course she thinks she knows what she’s doing.

Lexa never seemed to think Clarke could be a danger to her. Lexa trusted her from before she got proof that she was right, and then settled for one singular proof without any more information. Even if Clarke literally yelled at her that she was wrong.

How terrible it was that she is just as addictive as her blood.

“Clarke?”

And she’s been staring, not even at her mouth, just her eyes, her deep red eyes- “Why red?”

“Because yours are black” Lexa doesn't miss a beat.

And okay, there has been many, many times through her -long, long, long, long ass- life where Clarke has been thankful for been a vampire. Tonight, she's thankful that she can't blush, nor lose her breath or have her heart miss a beat. Because all of those would be dead give aways she does not need Lexa knowing about.

“I told you I can’t help it” She tries with a frown, needing Lexa to shift her eyes back to green, because red… red is new, red is blood, red is not something she’s prepared for, red is something she can't have, red should be forbidden. Green? Green is known, green is good, is fun drunk nights, and long talks and smiles. Green is innocent making out -with wandering hands but still- green is smirks and blushed cheeks. And green- is back.

“Better?” Clarke only nods “Yours are still black so I’m going to guess you do need to go home”

“That would be a good idea. Yep.” She nods again, standing up with Lexa still in her lap and enjoying the missed beat of Lexa’s heart before she puts her down.

They walk back down hand in hand ‘to make sure you won’t run away’ Lexa says and Clarke is too content to call out her lie.

Lexa walks her home and kisses her goodbye at the entrance of her building. She’s still thinking about it when she enters her apartment and heads straight for the fridge. She’s happily surprised to realize she’s only thinking about Lexa and her kisses and not her blood, nevertheless, she dries out all five of the bags she has in storage.

The next day, Clarke wakes up from a magic induced sleep to a dead body in her kitchen. Lexa isn't there, neither is the folder from the night before, just an open window and a note.

Thanks for last night

♡.

[aludraslytherin]

Not Jegulus having angry sex and the James pulls a Regulus "This is a parting gift" Black 😭😭😭

[veradragonjedi]

@airlocksandaviaries

egg?

He is the EGG MAN

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

You're just not toxic enough.

[egophiliac]

the gang's all here! commence slumber party

[emacrow]

Hey, did you lose this?

A gargantuan looming form that was black as the night sky, coated in stars, cosmic dust, planets, and nebula. Extremely long snow white hair defying gravity floating above the ceiling spreading across like a growing cloud. Bright blue eyes like jewels staring down at tim

Tim could only stare dumbfounded with his sleep deprived eyes after searching for the right summoning in his backup backup bunker to find batman after escaping the arkham asylum.

In its right thin hand holding like a wet napkin was batman unconscious, coated in deep blue ice.

"I believe this belong to your dimension, at first, I thought it was a miniature cat at first when it tried a pathetic attempt at fleeing my children's toy box was when I noticed it was just another misplaced humans and they don't last long in the infinite realm much less my children's toybox. It took me a moment to figure out the right dimensions where it originated, but you thankfully made it easier for me to find with the summoning." The bring lightly drop Batman down to the ground as the deep frozen ice easily melted away.

"D-don't you need a payment?" Is what Tim spoke after his mind reset back from shock.

"Oh no~, visiting this dimension is a grand payment considering this where I can finally nib the bud of those pesky sewage ectoplasm that been a pain in my ankle for long enough. At best, you would be rewarded for giving me such a gift." The being lightly tapped Tim's head with its glowing index finger, ruffling the black hair lightly.

"Should you need me for any favor, Call upon me, the High King of the Infinite realm, Danny Phantom, Protector of the Dead and Alive, Center of the Eternal Vast Sp" The be- Danny did a light bow, as his towering being faded away, the summoning circle disappearing as well.

Leaving only Tim alone with a Bruce coughing a bit, taking a couple of heavy breaths of fresh air which snapped Tim out of his stupor.

"Bruce, Bruce, are you alright?" Tim rushed over and lightly shook Bruce's shoulder as Bruce's eyes opened slowly to see Tim, except there was something different about tim. His hair wasn't black but now a strikingly bright white with specks of stardust.

Fanart -> link

Part 2-> link

[blu3haw4]

Which Clarke and which Lexa are dog or cat people?

Parting Gift Lexa LOVES CATS, which despite her million (billion?) years on earth, surprises Clarke 🤣 like obviously she knows it's a myth that cats and dog hate each other, and she knows Lexa isnt a dog, but catching her scratching every single cat she passes and cuddle all the cats at Clarke's witch friend's place feels oddly out of place.

Now to explain why i think this 😅 the original abo hierarchy of this fic is based off teen wolf, in which the alpha is just the leader of the pack, the betas are- well, the pack, and omegas are lone wolfs -i teaked the specific to mold it with the grounders' world too- in that show though, the protagonist eventually becomes a vet, because as a werewolf, he has a special affinity with all animals and can even, like, take their pain away, so i think Lexa and every werewolf in this universe has affinity with any animal.

This Clarke likes dogs because they inevitably remind her of Lexa in wolf form 😤 which Lexa obviously doesn't like, but Clarke can't help it, they tilt their heads the same sometimes ���

I think Poor Judgment Raven fosters a cat once in college, in their first apartment. Up until that point Lexa was partial to pets, but after that cat, she hates them, the cat wasn't terrible by any means, but it was an animal that wasn't hers and kept messing with her stuff, the poor thing never adapted to the apartment and ran away four times, they survived a month -the most stressful moth of their lives- with the cat before the shelter agreed to take it back and care for it until they found it a family. I think she's partial to dogs the same way she was to cats before that experience.

On the other hand I have a feeling Poor Judgment Clarke grew up with dogs, like three big ass dogs, one older than her and two they rescued through her childhood. I think when Clexa meet her parents have new dogs, maybe just as many. Through the many things they go through once they're finally together and all the conversation and plans about their future, Clarke really wants Lexa to have a good relationship with -Clarke's- parents, so they spend a lot of time with those dogs and Lexa learns to love them. They may even get a dog of their own down the line.

Gamer Girls Lexa is fundamentally a dog person and lover. Idk why, i just feel like she is. I have no prejudice about the type of person you are depending on whether you are a cat or dog person, but I feel like Lexa defines herself as a dog lover, and so does Octavia, even without ever having one, nor a cat or any other pet. I think growing up when people would ask her she just knew dogs were her thing, even if she hasn't ever truly planned on getting one. She's not opposed to cats, but she has that little voice in her head always going "I still like dogs better" any time she's around a cat.

And i don't think gamer girls Clarke is much for animals, i think she maybe liked bugs as a kid -okay and now too- but neither dogs or cats have ever been too nice nor too mean to her, she's just never been crazy about them. if she HAD to chose? I think she would lean a little bit more to cats.

[animatedshortoftheday]

Parting Gift (2020) [3 min] by Sabrina Marks | USA

[aludraslytherin]

Regulus and his mother ducking parting gifts

[demigods-posts]

imagine percy swimming to the bottom of the ocean. not to save a group of sea creatures. not to show off his skillset. and not to prance around as the sea god's favorite son. but to join the ocean in all that it is. laying in the soft sand and watching the fish swim by. the lobsters making space for him as he rests his head against a patch of seaweed. him laughing at the irony. imagine percy making small talk with all the different sea creatures and assigning them names. him actually running into a whale he named phillip who's on his way to propose to his boyfriend. and percy wishing him good luck and offering his blessing on their union. imagine percy making small talk with the starfish about his favorite dinosaur. and explaining to the collective group what a dinosaur is and why they don't need to worry about them reaching the bottom of the ocean. just. percy immersiving himself in all that's aquatic because it's where he can be his most self.

[yooboobies]

sparkljing eyes | dedicated for @gimbapchefs

puppy-eyes tan (3/7)

{cr. namuspromised, 0613data}

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request

Another chapter of Alley Boyfriends, if you don't mind, I love it so much. If not, no worries. I love your work and love to reread your stuff. May your food be filling and your bills be paid!

Danny carefully adds the finishing touches to the seahorse he’s carefully designing on the surface of Tim’s mug of coffee. He’s been practicing his latte art because business has been slow at Heart Attack in secret. The previous week, he had seen Tim watching videos of strangers creating works of art using the foams of their coffee with blatant awe.

The Halfa will admit to the sight of wonder on Tim’s face when the flashier artist created swans with colored foam, and his heart gave the oddest flutters. It had been so brief but intense that Danny had feared a new power was unlocking in their living room.

Thankfully, the moment passed quickly, but Tim’s expression lingered in his mind. Danny had abandoned the piano to search somehow for videos of latte art within the next minute of that strange heart flutter.  

Danny had learned how to play from Wes in an ill-fated attempt to get the ginger to date him. Danny hadn’t been able to get the ginger to be his boyfriend, but he learned a skill he enjoyed. His parents bought him a second-hand stage piano that he had used for the few years he lived with them.

It broke sometime in senior year- he thinks Young Blood had blasted him through it- and he hadn’t bothered getting a replacement. Mainly because he couldn’t be concerned, as it was a hobby he hadn’t time to participate in once he got close to graduation. It would have remained a forgotten past time had the apartment not come with the grand piano.

The sound was so much richer, with a resonating tone that bypassed his skin and sunk into his soul. Danny could not let the thing of beauty go to waste. He often found himself sitting on the bench, letting his fingers dance off the keys, finding melodies and rhythms that welcomed him home like a returning hero of a fairy tale.

He didn’t think he was skilled at it, but sometimes, when he played, Tim would move closer. His eyelids would flutter close, lying on the nearby couch and listening to Danny play with a half-smile on his face. Sometimes, Tim would fall asleep, seemingly at peace, as Danny strung through Dance of the Blessed Spirits only a few feet away.

Despite all the coffee Danny had provided him with, Tim was starting to develop a better sleeping schedule. The bags under his eyes slowly faded, and he was physically fit. Tim used their apartment building gym all the time, but his skin was gaining a glow previously not there.

He also seems much happier. Danny checked off another box of Tim being a ghost in development, with his Heart Attack Coffee being a big part of his obsession.  Maybe it would not be his sole purpose when he passed, but Danny suspected that the coffee was associated with a good memory that fundamentally shaped Tim’s sense of self.

Danny didn’t like to think too hard about it. He’s gotten comfortable with death, seeing it as a natural part of life now that he spent so much time around the Death-Brought Ghosts, but the idea of Tim passing always twisted his heart into knots.

Sharp, painful knots that leave him fleeing from the dark thoughts as fast as possible. It would be years before Tim would no longer be part of this world. He had better things to do, like adding bubbles and seaweed around the seahorse and taking time to add as many little details as he could to create the scene of a lovely underwater image.

Danny finishes just as the kitchen clock- an expensive cuckoo clock that had golden trimmings, blending so well with the dark wood and gorgeous forest theme carvings that Danny had fallen in love with the second he spotted it at a street art festival that the pair had stumbled upon during a drive they took. Tim bought it when he realized Danny liked it, and it hung up that night. - goes off with a loud chime.

Another day has officially ended. 

His roommate would be up soon for whatever he does at nighttime, where he vanished for hours, coming home nearly always after witching hours, exhausted and bruised. Danny would linger in the living room for a bit if he was awake before heading to his room with a half-made excuse.

Tim would then sleep for a few hours before he was up again, rushing around the apartment to gather his things and be out for his daytime work. A lot of his job he can do at home, but Tim was important enough that he sometimes had to go to work in person.

In the three weeks that the two have moved in together, Danny hasn’t been braved enough to ask what his roommate did for a living. He knows Tim held some big corporate job- where and what he did there was a mystery- but his second job was vague and downright denied at worst.

Whenever Danny hinted so much about what he was doing at night, Tim moved the subject away. He didn’t flat out deny answering Danny’s probing, as more as he danced around the question so well, Danny found himself waltzing in a different direction before he realized what had happened. Tim had a silver tongue that was wielded like a sword, sharp, cutting, and deadly.

 It was mildly alarming, mainly because Danny had no idea what Tim was involved in. Something big, something likely bad. It could be the only explanation for the large amount of seemingly never-ending funds and the odd hours that Tim kept.

A boring office worker by day and who knows what by night.

He also always came back home half stumbling over his feet. There was even that one time when Tim had been half-dressed, his knuckles split, and hard anger set at his jaw. Danny had been caught up with a new show, only realizing the late hour once his roommate had practically shut the door.

The pair stared at each other. Danny bathed in the glow of the TV while Tim was shirtless and standing in the shadows of the front door. He wanted to ask thousands of questions, but Danny had only lifted the heated blanket- a gift from Tim- when he learned how affected Danny was by the cold. 

Tim’s face softened as he barreled into the warmth and snuggled into the couch cushions, joining Danny in watching a Korean rom-con that the Halfa had been in the middle of. He had no idea what the plot was or who the characters were, but by the end of the third episode, Tim’s head had fallen on Danny’s shoulder so deeply asleep that he didn’t feel Danny wrapped up his knuckles or carried him to his room.

Despite this, Danny didn’t move out. He didn’t stop providing Tim with his much-loved coffee. If anything, he took his worries, boxed them up, and stubbornly turned a blind eye to the worrying signs that Tim was showing.

A door opens behind him. Tim walks out, an overnight bag thrown over his shoulder as he speed walks through the living room. His roommate is scrolling on his phone, tapping a rapid-fire response to whoever he is chatting with. Danny could see the bubble messages screen even if he couldn’t make out the words before sighing. “I’ll be out all night. I’ll probably be back tomorrow around noon.”

A pool of dread piles in his stomach, but Danny pushes it away. “Alright.”

He holds out the mug, drinking in every facial feature shift as surprise blooms over Tim’s face before it melts into tenderness when he sees the shape of the latte art. It was painstaking to learn how to make a realistic-looking one on such a problematic canvas, but Danny is happy he spent time on it. After all, Tim’s favorite animal was the seashore, so he needed to make sure it looked good.

Only a few people knew that from what Danny gathered from Tim's few mentions while working on their three notebooks. He also thinks Tim doesn’t often tell people his favorites, but Danny has been paying close attention whenever Tim reacts positively to the world around him. The way Tim’s eyes sparkled when Danny clicked on a sea documentary where the small, shaped fish had been a main feature. Danny had found it adorable how Tim seemed unaware that he would randomly blurt out a new fun fact about the seahorses in the following few days.

“When you learn to make this?” Tim asks, curling his fingers around the mug. Danny’s heart leaps in his chest at the tender warmth glowing in Tim’s eyes as he gazed at him. Coughing into his hand, he waves his hand.

“I had some time since there hadn’t been a lot of customers lately. Ever since that Dr. Freeze threat, people have been avoiding the café.” Danny ignores the guilt he feels about that.

The other day, his powers had gone out of control after he made the mistake of going too long without using his ice, and when he developed that stupid head cold, he accidentally froze the street.

One coughing session later, the entire neighborhood ran to take shelter, panicking that the rouge had chosen their homes for his newest mayhem. Thank goodness the villain had actually broken out of Arkham the previous day, so no one batted an eye at the fact the ice surrounding a single barista was in the middle of closing up for the night.

“It’s amazing, Danny,” Tim tells him, quickly snapping a picture with his phone before he takes a sip. His eyelashes flutter as he savors the flavor, this one is the original Batman theme coffee that Heart Attack discontinued.

Danny found the receipt in an older binder while doing inventory. Tim had tackled him in an enthusiastic hug the second he tried it and recognized the familiar taste.

“Thanks.” He blushes, trying not to notice that the bubbles have shifted slightly, resembling hearts instead of circles. Moving his eyes away from where the foam disappears into Tim’s lips, Danny mentally kicks himself for being weird about his fake boyfriend’s drinking.

He picks up the mug lid on the counter, turning it around in his hands while Tim takes another quick sip. There is some leftover steam milk on his lips when he pulls away, and the colorful seahorse is gone now. His core pulses, making a shiver run down his spine as Tim’s pink tongue darts out to lick away the teal green.

Danny coughs again as frost gathers on his back. Thank goodness he can feel it on his skin, which means it likely hasn’t passed through his comfortable sweater. He hasn’t told Tim about his powers, and he isn’t sure he wants to.

Gotham is an anti-meta city. Tim was as Gotham as they came. He can’t stand the thought of his roommate growing to hate him, especially for something that wasn’t precisely meta, but was the closest thing he was.

He leans forward, carefully sealing the mug. This was one of Tim’s favorites among his collectible mugs, primarily because it could shift into a traveling beverage holder.

Tim smiles at him. “I’m heading out then. See you tomorrow.” 

“Bye, stay safe,” Danny tells him to walk him to the front door. He stands there, feeling like he’s waiting for something to happen. But he isn’t entirely sure what that is, so all he does is lean against the wall as Tim slips on his running shoes, juggling his drink, phone, and bag. Danny smiles warmly when Tim raises his mug at him in a fast toast before he slips through the door, leaving their apartment with a soft “Sleep well, Danny.”

The wood of their door seals shut without a sound- apparently, the rich didn’t believe in noise because everything in the apartment was somehow soundproof. Tim moved like a shadow, rarely making a sound. Danny, by comparison, sounded like a bull in a china shop.

Once, when Danny apologized, Tim laughed.

“I like it, " he said while lounging in the hot tub on the balcony. Danny was on the other side, the warm water doing wonders for the frost forming at the bottom of his feet.  Thankfully, the water hid it from Tim’s sight. “It’s like you breathe life into the apartment with your noise.”

“Stay safe,” Danny says to the empty apartment. “Come home tomorrow.”

He rubs his face and figures he should head to be. It was ten at night, but Tim clarified that he wouldn’t return anytime soon. He’s tired from the previous three nights when he waited for Tim to come home. Thankfully, his shifts had been moved to the afternoon, so it didn’t mean much if Danny stayed up until three am for his roommate.

He strides by his piano, running his hand along the closed case of the keys without seeing it, for his gaze is locked on the city that glows under his window. It’s been nearly a month, and he’s still not used to the view of Gotham from this height. The penthouse towers over most of Gotham, and the city seems beautiful from up here. A Decorative lie of the danger that waited in the wake of anyone down on their luck.

This place was like a Siren. Beautiful and alluring until its claws and teeth dug into someone’s skin, dragging them to the darkest depths where no one could hear their screams. He prays that whatever Tim is involved doesn’t let Gotham swallow him whole.

 Danny’s fingers accidentally come upon cloth, making him snap his chin down to see what had been placed on the wood and blink at the side of Tim’s discarded sleeping long-sleeve shirt. His roommate peeled it off earlier tonight when he wanted to walk around in his shirt sleeve and flung it somewhere to take a quick nap before he left.

His fingers close around the fabric, slowly bringing it up to his face, breathing in Tim’s distinctive scent mixed with the soft lavender of his fabric softener. Danny hesitates for only a few seconds before taking off his sweater and slips on Tim’s long sleeve, allowing himself to find comfort in the familiar scent surrounding him.

He lets his sweater pool on the floor in the living room as he wanders to his room, crashing under his blankets and pressing the fabric of Tim’s clothes to his face. Eventually, he is lured to sleep, dreaming of playing in Gotham’s largest theater, hands flying over the keys at a skill level he does not possess. He moves with the music, uncaring that the seats are empty except for one.

That one belongs to Tim, who watches him perform with the same tenderness as his latte art inspired, but instead of a drink, Danny’s music causes that expression.

It’s the best dream he had in a long while.

As he dreams, he is unaware of the figure checking in on him, hanging from a grabbing hook near his window. The figure smiles when its white lens notices how Danny is curled up in a ball before it zips to the roof, their cap flaring behind them.

When they land, they reach up to link on their com "Red Robin reporting for duty. Where is Dr. Freeze's last known location? I want him caught tonight."

"Good night to you, too," Oracle responds. "Any particular reason we're in such a hurry for the capture of Dr. Freeze."

"He's making it hard for the hard-working people of Gotham to work," He huffs, knowing the rest of the bats will correctly link his complaint to his roommate.

There is a loaded pause before Red Hood grunts. "I got good news for you then. Dr. Freeze has spotted this very afternoon. Meet up at Heart Attack by Crime Alley to compare notes in an hour."

"I'm on my way."