#Danny and Lute too

[breakandbuildfiction]

Looking Into All The Destroyed Souls

After learning that one of the things that made Pariah Dark so evil was his willingness to destroy a ghost’s core, basically killing their very soul, Danny demands to be kept aware of anyone doing anything similar. And sure enough, there was a dimension a hop and a skip away where apparently thousands or even millions of souls were killed EVERY YEAR. Clearly, something was seriously wrong over there and Danny wants to know what the Hell is going on and put a stop to it.

[the-maladjustedjester]

Hawkins and Jean from The Court Jester (1956) are t4t

[hazbinwhoree]

OMGGGG pleaseee i need a part 2 to Adam’s sinner 😩😩😩😩 Maybe it’s the next extermination and Adam protects his darling sinner from exterminators 👀👀

Maybe more smut if you’d like 🫣

Adam’s Sinner

Part 2/3 Part 3

A/N: As much as I would love to make it smutty, I have a lot of smut requests and I don’t want it to get repetitive so this piece is just hella fluffy. I hope you enjoy anyway xox

Adam didn’t really come up with a solution to keep his promise, rather he just used his status in Heaven to come and go as he pleased, and would sneak down to Hell once a month.

His mask had demonic features, which worked in his favor staying discrete in Hell. Not that he was out and about for long, he always went straight to (Name)’s house, but still.

A year passed, and their little system was working, and before they knew it, the next extermination was upon them. “Remember,” Adam said during his last visit before the extermination. “Lock down. Stay inside. Hide.” “I know.” He kissed her forehead.

The extermination was brutal, as it always was. Adam had about a hundred and six kills under his belt and was bragging about his last kill to Lute. Then he saw something that made his blood run cold.

(Name), running from one of his exterminators.

Lute noticed Adam’s face drop, looking like he’d seen a ghost. “Are you okay, sir?” Adam didn’t answer, instead rushing towards the alley his exterminator had chased (Name) into.

(Name) was on the ground, his exterminator’s foot on her chest. She raised her spear and (Name) closed her eyes. “HEY!” His exterminator, Danni, jumped, spear faltering. “Sir?”

“This one is mine,” Adam bit back his panic. “She fucked up one of my kills last year.”

“Oh. Sorry, sir, she’s all yours.” Danni flew off, chasing an sinner. Once she was out of sight, Adam rounded on (Name).

“What the FUCK are you doing out here? I told you to stay inside! You were almost fucking killed!”

“Adam-“

“No, you know what, I don’t even want to fucking hear it.” Adam was seething from the scare she’d just given him. “Get your fucking ass home, right now, we will talk about this later.”

They both looked around to make sure no one was watching before they each departed, Adam back to the skies and (Name) back to her apartment. Adam paused his killing spree to make sure she got home safe from afar.

Later that night, when all the exterminators had returned to Heaven, Adam made his way to (Name)’s place.

“You want to tell me why you were out on the fucking streets during the damn extermination?”

(Name) looked embarassed. “My friend–”

“No friend is worth risking YOUR life. You fucking hear me?” (Name) couldn’t look at him, slightly intimidated. Adam sighed. “...Sorry.”

He pulled her into him and closed his wings around her. She wound her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. For a few minutes they just stood there, Adam reassuring himself that she was there and she was fine.

“Don’t do shit like that, tits, you scared the fuck out of me.” (Name) chuckled, Adam sounding much more like himself now. She took his hands in hers.

“I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”

Adam scoffed. “Yeah it fuckin’ was. You’re lucky I love your dumbass.”

“You love me?”

Adam’s mind was a chorus of “shit shit shit”, but he owned it. “Yeah, what’s the big fucking deal?”

(Name) smiled and yanked him down to her level by the collar, pressing her lips to his. Adam melted into the kiss, his hands resting on her hips. After a long moment, they pulled apart.

“I love you too.”

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Fool’s Crown

@hannahmanderr

Danny is very very stupid, Amity Parkers are very very oblivious, and a crown is apparently very very easy to hide.

Look okay, Danny had an issue, and, okay, he was also a dumbass. Meaning…

…

That’s right! He dealt with his issues like a dumbass.

His current issue?

One. Crown.

One crown that will not come off of his head even when he tries to yank the thing off with both his hands and his feet at the same time.

He even tried smacking it with a frying pan and only succeeded in giving himself a mild concussion.

Jazz had some words to say about that.

Sticking the crown in the portal and closing it with him still on the other side, also didn’t do shit.

So yeah.

He was NOT impressed. ‘Not’ with every single letter capitalised for the oomph… and to make a point about how not amused he was. Because he was very not amused.

So what was Danny to do about a floating green flaming glowing crown that will not fuck off?

Well get it to stop floating for one, which was surprisingly actually doable. Huh. Who knew. It’s got a cold metallic weightiness to it that felt like it was going to give him too many headaches; both literally and metaphorically (He was absolutely right on that one).

That just left him with the glowing problem, the flaming problem, the green problem, and the fact that it was a goddamn crown problem.

But flames plus frost from a kickass ice core equaled no more fire, nice and easy breezy, like he wished more things would be. Not out loud obviously, because, you know, Desiree. But yes, more easy things please! Thank you very much! Fuck his shitty luck. He could have technically just changed the crown over to cold blue flames instead of being frosty, but then the thing would still be on fire, which was the issue he was trying to solve.

The last three problems didn’t have some easy solution he could pull out of his ass on the spot, but you know what he could do on the spot and get nearly on the spot?

Amazon.

And you know what he could get on Amazon?

A thick leather crown.

And what could he do with a thick leather crown?

Why undo the stitching on the bottom so he could just… slide it over his actual crown.

Is it stupid? Like, very stupid?

Yes.

Does he buy the crown?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Sam is judgmental but lets him use her prime account and he’s got that bitch in hand with same-day delivery. Sam is also judgemental that he makes her undo the stitching, she was better at stitch work than him so he thought it made sense okay! Gosh!

And!

Guess what!

Shit fucking works.

He can just slide it right over his crown. It’s like whoever designed these leather crown things did it with the Crown Of Fire in mind! Talk about a win for him!

Tuck slapped his knees and Sam facepalmed with multiple groans. At least Sam still attached little straps to the bottom of the leather crown so he could actually fully attach it to his crown securely. It made him look like he had a floating leather crown! It was hilarious! And it made the metal of the crown dig into his head less when he forced it to stop with the floating.

All in all he’s tickled green with his success.

Does his ‘fashion choices’ get questioned, and mocked, and belittled, and attempted at being stolen?

Oh of course.

Did he care?

Ha! Not a chance!

He did have Wes pointing at him and shrieking about him having too big of an ego to be willing to hide being the ghost king though, that was fantastic.

Fantastic because that meant that no one would ever believe he actually was the ghost king.

Which he was and he was goddamn rocking it.

Rocking it while totally leather strapped, making him an absolute leather daddy.

Eh? Eh? Ha! He thinks he’s funny. Because he is. That shit was absolutely hilarious.

Oh! Maybe he should actually, like, get into the leather subculture to really sell it. Then he’d totally rock a leather pride flag at the next pride.

…

Johnny’s going to insist on teaching him how to ride a motorcycle then, isn’t he?

Oh yeah he totally is.

Sure he couldn’t wear a helmet over his stupid crown thing but ain’t fucking nobody going to question a Fenton about following road safety or driving laws.

Ah he was about to be a leather crown wearing, motorcycle driving, space nerd, who handled and made supernatural ghost weapons.

Poor Amity. Poor poor Amity.

That was a lie. Amity loved his stupid weird dumbass, and he knew it.

End.

Prompt: After becoming Ghost King, Danny discovers that his crown refuses to be taken off his head, or even to disappear. This might not be a problem, if he didn't have to worry about going to school.

[halfagone]

Quick Q: How many fanfics that have annoying you the most with the cross over with Danny and Batman with the bat kids-(if we cam called them kids, lol)?

To be honest, I have read a lot of them or so into the crossover, yet the fanfic I had see so far, are half ok, not over use with “Danny’s bio father is Bruce and his mother is whatever they use as the mother, plus how Danny got into the Fanton’s family, etc.”

I'm gonna take some advice from a friend and reply to this ask with a good faith interpretation.

I won't lie, there are some fics that are just not for me. But I also don't want to stop anyone from enjoying the fic tropes that they love. Yes, there are a lot of "Bruce Wayne is Danny's bio father" fics, but there are also a lot of Titans Tower AUs and you can bet your ass I will devour those fics like a dying man in the desert. The reason there are so many fics with the same trope is because people enjoy those stories, so why wouldn't they want to write more of them?

Sometimes tropes will be hit-or-miss for me. Jazz/Jason are hit-or-miss for me, summoning fics are hit-or-miss for me, de-aged Danny fics are hit-or-miss for me. But I never get annoyed that there are so many of them, I just have to learn to be more selective with my reading choices. And that's one of the great things about having a wide selection of the same type of story- you get to be a little picky. You can go: "Oh I'm not in the mood for this right now" or "Oh I like this interpretation more, I think I'll stick to these kinds from now on".

And if it's still not for you, then it's not for you! The one trope that I can never seem to get into is Dan Phantom Redemption fics. Most of that stems from how much I adore him as a villain and reflection to Danny. But I have good friends that like to explore his character that way. Good for them! I might not read it, but they understand not to take it personally.

At the end of the day, I'm a fanfic writer too. If I want to read something so specific that badly then I should take it upon myself and write it. Would it be easier if someone else wrote it for me? Abso-fucking-lutely, but it goes back to respecting 'to each their own' and leaving it at that.

[bhaalbaaby]

The Stillness Bends // Chapter 4 NSFW

Title: The First Taste (3693 Words) Pairing: Shadowheart/Fem!Tav, Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: Heavy Petting (making out and fingering) with Shadowheart with Shar cockblock, Full Smut with Astarion (cunnilingus and blowjobs, horn jobs, slight tail pulling, vampire bites, blood kink and bloodlust, creampies lol the works), some angst on both ends too lol A/N: be gentle and thank you for my beta @bunnidarling 💜 Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @razrogue @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator @rinmoon7 (let me know if you want to be on the tag list or subscribe on AO3~)

Read on AO3!

Penelope sighs as the party dwindles. She watches as Bex and Dannis' tails intertwine, her forehead pressed against him, their lips moving but too quiet for her to hear. She frowns, holding her cup, the last time her tail intertwined with another felt like so long ago. Her heart pangs as she remembers her past love, what could have been if she hadn’t been so violently kidnapped. 

She nibbles her bottom lip as she glances over at Lakrissa, who sits by Alfira's feet as she strums her lute. Lakrissa blurts out random lyrics that make Alfira scrunch up her face as she laughs. Halsin… Penelope's wine-addled brain won't think about him as he stands tall at the edge of the party next to Zevlor. She looks away from the Druid, her cheeks hot. She could imagine him naked on any other night, but not tonight. No, tonight belongs to… 

Her mind trails off as she thinks of Shadowheart, her soft smile as she holds her cup up to Penelope. "I'll be waiting," Shadowheart says. But there is also Astarion. She glances over at Rolan as he drunkenly rants to his siblings about the road ahead. A shiver runs up her back as she focuses back on the vampire. She's thought about it plenty especially after she let him bite her. She closes her eyes feeling the phantom touch of his mouth on her neck. As she opens her eyes, she looks towards Shadowheart’s tent, the cleric missing. She could go to both, couldn't she? 

Astarion raises his eyebrow as she approaches him, ready to pounce. "I promised Shadowheart I'd share a bottle of wine with her, but I do want to spend the evening with you," Penelope says softly, using all her energy not to reach out and touch him. 

"Ah, so you're breaking the poor cleric's heart by seeing me instead?" Astarion asks, smirking. 

She shakes her head, "No. I'm letting you know I may be a little late. I hope that's okay." 

Astarion huffs, "Second fiddle to her? I suppose…" He rolls his eyes, his energy deflated. "If you stand me up, I will never forget it." Penelope steps closer, kissing his cheek. "Never," He chuckles as she leaves, heading towards the waterfall.

Shadowheart waits, holding the bottle of wine between her thighs. She stole two glasses for them and had them waiting next to her. Penelope's heart thumps in her chest as she steps closer. She doubts anything would happen between them besides a kiss or two, but the air is ripe with opportunity. Shadowheart glances over her shoulder, warmly smiling at the Tiefling. "You came." 

Penelope nods as she sits beside her. "Of course. I promised, didn't I?" 

Shadowheart nods but glances away. "People lie," Shadowheart replies, staring at the bottle. "I stole this from the Tieflings for us. It's cheap, but it'll do." She continues as she holds it up for Penelope to inspect. 

"When we get back to the city, I'll be sure to get us a better bottle for us to share," Penelope says with a playful smile. 

"Is that another promise?" Shadowheart asks, opening the bottle. 

Penelope nods eagerly as she picks up the empty goblet. "Yes, my dear. I always make good on my promises." 

Shadowheart eyes her before filling her cup. "We should toast to something to mark the occasion," She asks as Penelope stares at the rushing water next to them. 

"We should toast to us," Penelope suggests, raising her glass. 

"To us?" Shadowheart laughs, rolling her eyes, "What does that entail?" 

Penelope shrugs. "Baldur's Gate, another glass of wine for us to share and many more memories to be made as well, I hope." 

Shadowheart giggles as she holds up her glass next to Penelope's. "Bold… We'll have to see where this takes us." Goosebumps travel up Penelope's arms as she clinks their glasses together. "So, tell me about yourself. I feel like we haven't had a proper chance to speak with everything happening." Shadowheart says, scooting closer to her. 

Penelope sighs, "What would you like to know? I was quite boring." 

Shadowheart tilts her head, letting her ponytail rest on her shoulder. "I don't believe that. You can at least remember your life." Shadowheart replies, her eyes searching Penelope's face. 

"I remember what you've told me. You can't swim and you like night orchids." 

Her eyes soften as she nods, "You remembered. But you're avoiding my question." 

Penelope laughs before sipping her wine, ignoring the bitterness. "Hmm… I played around pubs and bars with my flute and was a little well-known." It's another lie, but she can't confess the sins of her past to a cleric. 

"Ah, that sounds like fun, interesting. I bet you saw many different people in your travels." 

Penelope nods as she stares at the nearing empty cup. "I suppose. Nothing like this, however. I'm way out of my element." Penelope confesses. 

Shadowheart puts her cup down with a sympathetic smile. "It's alright. You're doing better than I expected." 

"If I was on my own, I would be dead by now," Penelope says with a small laugh before finishing her cup. 

"We all would be…" 

The conversation wanes and Shadowheart refills their cups. They talk about little things before they run out of things to say, cards still close to their chest. Penelope slowly lies back on the cold stone, staring up at the stars, the wine fuzzing her brain. Penelope's mind wanders to Astarion. She would meet him soon. Shadowheart joins her, her eyes watching her carefully. Her glance cuts away when Penelope looks over to her. A coy smile plays on her face before she whispers, “You are very beautiful.” Shadowheart snorts, rolling her eyes. “I know.” Penelope's smile widens, loving her confidence. 

Shadowheart turns to her side, her eyes casting downwards. "Thank you for coming to see me." 

Penelope turns to face her, moving closer. "Of course. You don't ever have to second-guess me. When I say I will do something, I will." Without thinking she rests her hand on Shadowheart's cheek, brushing her thumb on her soft skin. 

"And will you kiss me?" Shadowheart asks, her eyes flicking down to Penelope's soft lips. 

"You don't have to ask," Penelope whispers leaning into the Cleric. 

The wine lingers on her tongue sweetening the taste as their tongues dance. Shadowheart inhales deeply, letting her hands slide to Penelope's chest, her hands slipping in her dress. Penelope moans softly as Shadowheart gently tugs at her nipples, her thumb rolling them between her fingers. Shadowheart drags her teeth along Penelope's lower lip as she pulls away. Penelope stares at her through her thick lashes, keeping her hand on her cheek. She needs to go to Astarion, but… 

She slips her hand underneath Shadowheart's dark pants, her fingers exploring her folds. She watches as Shadowheart's eyes shut, and the caresses on Penelope's chest increase in intensity. Would she fuck the pretty Cleric right now? She sits up and rubs Shadowheart's clit, watching as she squirms. Maybe a quickie and then Penelope would go see Astarion, just like she promised. Shadowheart tugs Penelope's dress to the side, letting her breast free before catching her nipple with her mouth. Penelope's mind swims in thoughts of ripping Shadowheart's pants off and burying her tongue between her thighs. She imagines she tastes as sweet as she sounds until Shadowheart winces, pulling away from Penelope. 

She holds her hand to her chest as she turns from her lover. Penelope frowns, hovering her hand. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" She brings her fingers up to her lips, lewdly sucking them. She tastes perfect. 

Shadowheart sits up, shaking her head. "I'm being punished… We should head back to camp before it gets worse." 

There's an undeniable sadness in Shadowheart as she gathers the empty bottle and glasses. Penelope adjusts her dress as she stands. "There will be plenty more times for this," She says, kissing Shadowheart again. 

She doesn't kiss her back, scared Shar will cause her more pain. Penelope won't let a petty goddess get in the way of her pleasure as she leans into Shadowheart, whispering in her ear. "Next time I will eat you up." 

Shadowheart rests her hand on Penelope's shoulder. "I will keep you to your word," She replies before they return to the camp.

Penelope can't deny she's horny. Shadowheart left her worked up. Would Astarion be jealous that he would be able to taste Shadowheart on her, or would he not care at all? She hopes it's the latter as she heads towards the forest. She needs relief and fast.

Words are spoken, but it's all a blur as she wraps her arms around Astarion's neck, his hands on her hips as he plays with the edges of her dress that barely covers her ass. He murmurs something about how much of a tease she was this evening, knowing she shared a kiss with Shadowheart before coming to the woods to see him, tasting her on Penelope’s lips. But, like a good boy, he waited. 

She laughs softly against his mouth before he peppers kisses down her chin before finding his favorite spot on her neck. She bites her lip as her fingers play with the curly ends of his hair. 

"'Starion…" She moans as she closes her eyes. He will be the first companion she sleeps with. He lifts her skirt, palming and massaging her ass. He will also be the first person she'd ever sleep with in the woods. 

"Take off your dress, please." He says as he pulls away. He takes off his shirt, tossing it to the side as she removes the revealing dress. He doesn’t waste time staring as he buries his face between her soft breasts. She laughs softly as she drags her fingers along his shoulders. 

"For tonight, this is all mine," Astarion says as he grabs her ass, holding her up. She's surprised he has the strength to hold her up as she wraps her legs around him. 

"Yes sir," She mewls as he presses her against a tree. Their lips meet in a heated kiss, their tongue swirling around each other. He breaks away from the kiss as he holds her breasts in his hands, his thumbs brushing her nipples. 

"Did you see how everyone stared at you tonight?" He asks, before sucking on the sensitive nub. 

She pants, "Ah, yes. I saw how jealous you looked when I spoke to Shadowheart and Karlach…" He grinds against her, his teeth gently dragging across her nipple. Her moan gains in volume as she flares her nostrils. 

"But you could only think about me and how much you wanted me." 

She grinds her hips against him as the tree digs into her sharp shoulder blades. Penelope bites her lip ignoring her heart skipping beats, watching as Astarion puts her down, his eyes locking with hers as he gets on his knees. "My tongue between your thighs…" He pulls her panties down, resting her leg on his shoulder. 

"You do look good on your knees." Penelope manages to say before he buries his mouth on her sweet cunt. She moans, running her fingers through his hair. 

He laughs breathily as he glances up at her, his tongue getting lost in her folds before finding her clit. Her knees buckle as she tries to keep herself up, tugging on his curly locks. He moans against her, his nails digging into her ass. He pulls away, his fingers spreading her folds to reveal her swelling pink button. He gently blows on it, his eyes darkening as she arches her hips away, cursing under her breath. He keeps his fingers spreading her apart as he returns his mouth, his tongue vicious as he laps at her clit, her moans so perfect as they fall from her lips. Astarion’s lips wrap around it, suckling as her stomach tightens, her hips jerking away. He moves his hands, returning them to her plump ass to keep her from squirming. 

“Gods…” She mewls, her nails dragging across his scalp before finding the tips of his ears, her fingers carefully touching the reddening tips. He moans in response, his right hand slipping up to the base of her tail as his tongue paints lustful images in her mind. Penelope gasps as she lifts her hips from his greedy mouth. His pupils are blown as she shakes her head, fighting the trembles that rush her body.

"I don't wanna come so fast," She explains as she gets on her knees. 

Astarion rolls his eyes as he stands. She glances up at him, her tail swaying from side to side, tugging his breeches down. He obliges, letting them pool around his ankles as he steps closer. She coos when she lays eyes on his cock. "It's so pretty." She whispers, gently wrapping her hand around it. 

"Pretty?" He asks, gently grabbing her horn and bringing her face closer. Her nostrils flare as a shiver travels down her body, panging between her thighs. She mewls as he strokes her horn, his fingers following the curvature before firmly gripping them. 

"Yes, your cock looks like it's a sculpture," Penelope purrs as he rubs his shaft on her cheek and nose, using his grip on her horn as a guide. The thought of him using her face and mouth for his personal sex toy turns her on. Why him, she wonders as his other hand returns and carefully traces the matching horn. 

"As much as I love hearing about how perfect I am, I would rather have your gorgeous lips wrapped around my pretty cock." He mewls as he leaves her horn finally, gently slapping his shaft on her face. She moans, opening her mouth. 

"Good girl," He whispers as he guides his tip to her waiting mouth. She closes her eyes as she lets him fuck her mouth, his grunts, and heavy breathing music to her ears. His grip returns to her heart-shaped horns, trying to match his pace as he strokes them. She's never gotten a hornjob before as they've only been used to handlebars. In Astarion's hands, they've never been more sensitive. She has to control herself as he slows. 

"Show me what you can do." He whispers, his thumb gently rubbing circles at the base of her horns. 

She pulls her mouth off as she squeezes her thighs together. "Gods, I didn't know how sensitive my horns are." 

His hand slides from the horn to her scalp. She takes a deep breath before bringing his cock back to her mouth. She sucks on his tip, allowing her tongue to slip between the extra skip wrapped around it. He whimpers, the grip on her hair tightening as he pulls his cock away. Penelope glances up at him, her eyes pleading as he taps his mauve tip on her tongue. “Such a good girl…” He whispers before loosening his grip, allowing her control again. 

She laughs breathily as she lowers her head. Her tongue traces his length, dipping down as she reaches his base. His balls tense as her tongue swipes over them, alternating between one and both in her mouth as she sucks them, letting them go with a small pop. Her hand strokes his tip while her other hand drags her nails in patterns on his inner thigh. Astarion's breathing quickens as he returns his grip to her horn, his middle finger tracing the curvature. She shudders as she removes her mouth, their eyes meeting. Her lips part, welcoming his cock as she eases her head down, taking him as far as she can, her nose pressed against his abdomen. He moans as she takes him down her throat with each bob. She gags slightly from her speed, pulling away to catch her breath. 

"No gag reflex?" He asks softly as she hungrily stares up at him. 

She nods with a small smirk. "Is that a problem?" 

Astarion laughs, "Never. We can have more fun that way." 

She laughs along as she leans closer, returning his cock to her mouth, this time not taking him as far as she picks up her pace. Astarion's moans catch in his throat as if he's holding himself back from enjoying it. She flicks her eyes up to him as her hands wrap around his hips and ass. He looks up at the trees, his chest quickly rising and falling. She imagines bending him over, letting her tongue roam free across every part of his body including his asshole. The vision fades as he pulls himself out of her mouth. 

He rushes to his knees, stroking his cock, the other hand gently guiding her down to the small clearing. "I need you," He whispers as Penelope lies back on the grass. 

"I need you too." She whispers quickly, her hand wrapping around his cock, trying to guide him. Her tail runs along the back of his thigh. Their lips meet in a heated frenzy as his hips align with hers. Her tongue rolls around his as she moans against his mouth, his cock perfectly stretching her walls. He breathes heavily through his nose as he pulls away. 

She stares up at him through her lashes, her bright pink hearts still shining for him. She clenches around him, rocking her hips with his strokes. He grunts, his brows lowering. He pulls back, planting his hand firmly on her hips to keep her from squirming. "Keep doing that and I won’t be able to last." He moans as he shakes his head. 

Penelope lifts herself on her elbows as she still tries to match his pace, accepting his statement as a challenge. He chuckles, his other hand coming up to her pink peppercorn hair, his grip forcing her to look up at him. Her mouth opens slightly as she gasps, her fingers going between her thighs to rub her clit and the other to massage her bosom. 

"Astarion…" She mewls as he pounds her. He holds her face up towards his as he watches her contort with pleasure. 

"You're delicious," He purrs as he holds his hips against hers, rocking ever so slightly. She whines as she maintains eye contact. Leaning down, he turns her head away from him, exposing her neck. Penelope pushes her hips towards him, letting him fuck her deeper, harder as his lips pepper kisses on his mark. Her arms wrap around his back, his scars under her fingertips. She hesitates, the marks etched into his porcelain skin deep. She stops herself from digging her nails into him, her arms resting on his shoulders. 

His teeth are sharp, easily piercing her skin. Penelope's eyes open, his grip on her head keeping her still as he picks up his pace again, ramming her into the grass. Her eyes flutter close, ice filling her veins as the warm blood spills into his mouth, his tongue lapping hard not to miss one drop. He carefully pulls away, blood on the corner of his lips, pupils huge. His hands return to her hips, his thrusts harder than before, his cock twitching each time he presses against her cervix. The pain in her neck is distracting, but his cock is so perfect, she's so close. 

"Together?" Penelope manages to say, her hands going to his at her waist. 

He nods. "Gods, yes." He leans back down, resting his forehead against hers. 

Her nails dig into his shoulders, rolling her head for their lips to meet. She'd never tasted her blood before, but the metallic flavor lingers on Astarion's tongue. He breaks the kiss lustfully staring into her eyes as his cock grinds against her so deep, she feels like she'll explode with each stroke. Leaning back, she lets him go as she covers her face, suddenly embarrassed that she's going to come.  

He leans down, his lips wrapping around her nipple. She gasps, her stomach tensing at the two sensations of his thrusts and his warmer mouth. He pulls his mouth off, groaning. "Clench around my cock again my love. Gods, just like that." He returns his mouth, his tongue flicking at her nub. She whines as she does as she's told, his groan so deep from his chest. 

"Can I come inside?" Astarion asks, his head resting between her breasts. She nods, rocking her hips with his again as his moans grow in volume. 

"Please, please. Please." Penelope can't believe she's begging for it, but she's so close, the beg turns into a trance, her legs wrapping around his waist as he buries himself inside. She doesn't notice that he bites her chest, sucking more of her blood as she trembles under him, crying out his name. He steels his hips against hers, his cock spasming and claiming her for tonight. Gently removing his mouth from her chest, he pulls out. 

She sighs content, her hands returning to his shoulders as she examines him. It's odd. Usually, she is quick to get the other person to leave so she can be at peace, but she doesn't want him to go. She leans down, peppering kisses on his sweat-drenched forehead. 

"I've never done that before," Penelope whispers. 

"Done what before?" Astarion asks, enjoying resting on her ample chest, her blood close to his nose. 

"Outdoors like this. Vampire bites." 

He laughs as he sits up to peck her lips. "Me neither…" He returns to resting on her breasts, sighing. 

"I don't want to go back to the party yet," Penelope whispers. 

Astarion's arms squeeze around her waist, "We can stay here for a little then. Besides, I'm not tired." 

Penelope sighs, looking up at the moon peeking behind the leaves. It's been so long since she's felt this content, safe in someone's arms. Her fingers interlace with his delicate white curls as he breathes softly. She closes her eyes, her tail running along the curvature of his ass. She could have this, couldn’t she? Have this security. Her heart sinks. No, she won’t fall for the first person she sleeps with. Pushing the thought away she presses a soft kiss on his forehead. No need to complicate this. 

[inter-fandom-beef-polls]

Which fandom crossover do you think is the most annoying?

ohohoHO ok so

see my thing is that I've been fairly deep in the ML, DP, and BNHA fandoms

i enjoy the batman cartoon tv shows just fine and the few live action movies i've seen, plus my mutuals who love the DC universe dearly have shared so many cool things about the universe that they love

i hold a very deep affection or respect for all of these fandoms

but the crossovers in general just seem to be "x teen superhero gets adompted by the batfamily because their family/friends/world doesn't love them anymore 🥺🥺🥺" and like,,,, it just looks woobifying and OOC and it's deadass every other POST in the tags nowadays for DP.

i'll admit in terms of BNHA i've seen much more of it on AO3 rather than on Tumblr so it may confuse some of y'all to see it here, but I've seen enough to put it on the list

this is all a very long-winded way of saying DPxDC ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY DPxDC

to begin with and to make it fair, the miraculous ladybug stuff has also died down more from the rampantness of like 3-6 years ago while the danny phantom stuff (and the BNHA stuff to a lesser degree) is active and well and driving me up the fucking wall

but also like, the miraculous crossovers were mainly just disgruntled ML fans trying to play with new romance tropes, and DC fans seemed to look at them like "well you don't really know what you're talking about, but we're just gonna let you have that corner of the sandbox to yourself and leave you alone". It was annoying, but isolated

DPxDC is a fucking endemic that was corrupt from the beginning as the DC side I've noticed tends to be from a very specific section of the fandom who also has not really read or engaged with any canon source material beyond the one webcomic where they're a big happy family and various uwu found family tiktoks and fanfics and tumblr posts that portray the same tropes. they're already notorious for trying to create their own canon out of completely made up fanon that they've consumed through other fans so they have no idea it's fake, but they're convincing themselves it's real

now it's like, they found DP, which they've ALSO rarely actually watched beyond a few episodes and decided to stick to the tumblr fandom for all their "facts" (which to be fair the actual show is kinda bad lmao but like, they're still missing out on VITAL INFORMATION), and they decided they were gonna like deadass just pick up danny out of the DC fandom (and his sister, they're obsessed with jazz too) and just plop them in the DC universe and act like they belong there, like it's not a crossover, like it's all part of their extended fanon-turned-canon

like, deadass putting in their fic notes that *they have not consumed either source material*, this shit!!!!!

so yeah, that's my answer

[thelastspeecher]

douglasfirtreee replied to your post: "There's a Modern Stanley McGucket AU plot where..."

Would she be mad at Lute as well? Since he went along with Stan? And does junior exist in this timeline?

Oh yeah, Angie's pissed at Lute, too. She's pissed at both of them and gives the both of them a thorough dressing down eventually. It's just that when their plan came to light, Stan had the gall to say that they were right to do this breakup attempt, so she wanted to address that immediately.

I'm not sure what exactly Stan and Lute have to do to get back on Angie's good side, but she takes a while to warm up to them again. She just wishes that they had talked to her first before making this big plan. Then maybe they could have come up with an idea together that would result in as little feelings getting hurt as possible. But this way, well, no one left feeling good, and both Max and Angie cried. A lot.

And yep! Junior exists in this AU! I want to make it so that Junior exists specifically because this AU is a modern one, but I'm still working on coming up with what aspect of modernity results in Junior.

I'm also still working out exactly how much older he is than Danny and Daisy.

[ducktracy]

I think my least favorite part of Daffy’s entire schtick changing was his eventual devolution into being perceived JUST Bugs’s rival, a mere accessory to Bugs rather than a perfectly fine character in his own right, whether that be in merchandising or otherwise. Keep in mind I don’t think this downfall ever happened fully in the original run—if anything you could say he devolved into SPEEDY’S rival there—but there definitely seems to be fewer and fewer times in more recent years where Daffy isn’t just Bugs’s stooge or roommate or antithesis or whatever. As a Daffy fan it’s annoying at best and heartbreaking at worst seeing the failed potential with this character–and while I do have some problems with LTC, I’m at least glad they use the more interesting Porky/Daffy pairing more often (if they ever even end up using the Bugs/Daffy pairing at all). I don’t know if I’m eloquentilating this right since it’s 3 AM but I wanted to say this to someone

YES!!!!!!!!!!! I AGREE 100% THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PUTTING IT INTO WORDS. AB-SO-LUTE-LY.

i was just rewatching Drip-Along Daffy the other day and i surprised myself by how much i was enjoying it, there were parts where i genuinely laughed out loud (which should be a given because it’s a HILARIOUS cartoon) and i had the epiphany then that i don’t think i dislike Daffy’s greed so much as i dislike Bugs and Daffy cartoons as a whole

though Daffy’s progression into the egomaniac we all know today may SEEM sudden, it really wasn’t all that sudden. Daffy’s been greedy ever since You Ought to Be in Pictures in 1940(!) when he deliberately swindled Porky out of his contract so HE could get top billing and make more money. Chuck’s Duck has always shown signs of egotism—in Daffy Duck and the Dinosaur (1939) which is Chuck’s first Daffy short, Daffy paints a self portrait of himself and exclaims “not bad for a fella who never took a lesson in his life!”

he’s plenty confrontational in the Frank Tashlin (and later Bob McKimson and Art Davis) cartoons, and even Bob Clampett’s Daffy was a coward and thought he was a total hot shot—he thinks he’s the hottest shit around parading around as Duck Twacy in The Great Piggy Bank Robbery or as Danny Kaye in Book Revue, and he spent an entire cartoon running away from The Little Man from the Draft Board (and eventually killed himself), proving he’d rather die and go to hell and be OKAY with it before ever serving his country. (of course, cartoons like Scrap Happy Daffy and Daffy the Commando contradict that, though he is cowardly in the former too, but Daffy is NOT a consistent character in the slightest. consistent traits, sure, but he’s always. ALWAYS! changing)

throughout the Bugs and Daffy cartoons in the original cartoons, he gets nastier and nastier. in Rabbit Fire he’s still relatively chipper and even gives out a HOOHOO! at the beginning (the last one Chuck would use in a cartoon), but he just gets madder and angrier and Bugs often doesn’t fight back or REACT and that’s what wants me to make me tear my hair out. Daffy is VERY unlikable in the Bugs/Daffy shorts, which frustrates me enough HAHA, but it’s even more frustrating to see Bugs just stand around and wiggle his nose or make his ear drop or something instead of fighting back.

and it’s funny, because i’ve noticed that Daffy is MUCH more likable in the Chuck Porky/Daffy cartoons. call me biased, but he at least smiles and is relatively likable, mostly making an ass out of himself than willingly trying to harm other adversaries. these cartoons have him as an overly ambitious hero trying (and failing) to get the respect he deserves, and usually brushes off his failed attempts swiftly without going into a fit. (in Drip-Along, Daffy keeps shouting Western cliches in the bar and trying to wrestle up a fight, but quickly realizes he’s being ignored. instead of demanding that everyone pay attention to him, he just puffs his chest out and puts away his guns with hilarious elasticity and energy before declaring “WELP! reckon i’ll have me a little bracer,” with this HILARIOUS smile on his face. you could argue there are a number of comparisons to Piggy Bank in it too with the whole “getting way too invested in a hero role that he’s too incompetent to really handle”, and even then, Duck Twacy is actually more cowardly than Drip-Along!)

once again, i’m consulting in Jaime Weinman’s book because he puts it much more eloquently than i can, and i agree with this all 100%. pardon all the highlights HAHA

and that’s not even talking about the FOLLOW-UPS, we’re still on the classics! i want to like the Bugs and Daffy cartoons, they’re incredibly important and legitimately iconic pieces of filmmaking but i just can’t get myself to enjoy them. it also doesn’t help that by this time in the studio, the WB formula was pretty set in stone and wasn’t as flexible as it was in the war-years.

but yeah, modern interpretations somehow manage to flanderize Daffy even MORE violently and get rid of any saving grace aspects—we all know my thoughts on TLTS so i’ll spare the dribble but i’m still mad they made Daffy a total idiot in that show, when he’s one of the smartest characters in the series and the only adversary to see through Bugs’ trickery—which makes him losing to Bugs all the more funny since he actually KNOWS.

and I AGREE 100%! LTC’s Daffy reads more as Tex Avery’s Daffy to me than Bob Clampett’s, and i would like to see them delve deeper into the slightly bitter/confrontational/egotistical duck of the later Clampett’s but remain likable enough, but as you said, i’m VERY glad the Porky/Daffy dynamic is making a rightful comeuppance and would love to see some different spins on that as well, since they both have a much broader range of dynamics and personalities that you can kinda mix and match them.

YOU ARE ALL GOOD MY FRIEND i don’t know how eloquent THIS is either, but it’s VERY VINDICATING KNOWING I’M NOT ALONE HAHAHA i’ve been thinking about this a lot. thanks so much for sending this (and letting me ramble incoherently at you!)

[psi-onic]

4,5,16,25 for the ask game :0

4. What physical trait do they love the most about each other?

For Danny, it’s Vlad’s hair, 100%. In human form, at least—when it’s not in points for some fucking reason, it’s soft and beautiful and feels lovely between his fingers. In ghost form, it’s the fangs, because… well. Fangs.

And for Vlad, it’s the freckles that dot Danny’s nose and cheeks and shoulders, beautiful in human form and utterly breathtaking in ghost form, when they glow a soft green.

5. What personality trait do they love the most about each other?

At first, Vlad thinks it’s the hero complex. It’s so different from anything he has going for him, and opposites attract and all that. But later he comes to realize that the thing he loves most about Daniel’s personality is the thing that should by all rights be the most annoying: that he’s stubborn. He’s the only one who calls Vlad on his bullshit and won’t let him get away with it—not just because he’s got power, but because that’s just how stubborn he is. Sure, it creates problems, but it also creates an exhilarating push and pull that before long, Vlad wonders how he ever did without.

Vlad has always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, for better or for worse. When they were enemies, Danny hated that, how open Vlad was about who he hated and who he loved and who he was trying to screw over at every possible opportunity. It felt like bragging back then, taunting Danny about what he could get away with. But turned toward him with affection, it feels like actual sincerity, and it draws Danny to him like a magnet. He loves Danny fiercely with everything he has in him, and he makes sure Danny knows it. It’s a little overwhelming sometimes—Danny loves that, too.

16. Do they like the same food?

Danny doesn’t expect it to be the case, but they really do—Vlad makes all the same comfort foods his family does, which surprises him, given that he thought Vlad would be into more posh, rich people food. Turns out, it’s because Vlad’s home life sucked so bad when he was a kid that he ended up practically living in Jack’s house; the family recipes got passed down to him from Danny’s grandparents.

25. Are they sentimental about gifts they’ve received from each other?

Abso-fucking-lutely. Vlad absolutely cherishes every gift Danny gives him—Danny could pick up a fucking rock from the ground and Vlad would place it on his windowsill and smile every time he looked at it. And as for Danny… Weirdly, it’s the gifts that aren’t super fancy and expensive that do it for him. The little “Saw this and thought of you” things. Except for the gold-dipped rose. Vlad gave that to him on their first Valentine’s Day, and it made Sam and Tucker blue-screen because he hadn’t told them he and Vlad were together yet and they thought it was a joke. Danny keeps it for years; when they move in together, Vlad is the one who unpacks it from Danny’s “Special Things” box and places it on their nightstand.

[tabbytabbytabby]

WIP Game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you, and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks @depthandcharacter and @li0nh34rt for the tag! 💜

This is everything except my Buddie Big Bang, which is going to remain a secret. Putting most under a read more to spare your dashes.

Posted multi-chapters:

1. Quest For Camelot (Sterek, Thiam, Merthur, Cordia)

2. The Magic In You (Merthur)

3. The Misadventures of Drunken Witches (Multifandom)

4. I Just Wanna See The Stars With You (Morey) (MCD)

5. We Belong (Theo/Derek)

6. We Must Be Killers (Theo/Violet)

7. Together At Christmas (Thiam)

Teen Wolf

8. When You’re Up In Space (Sterek) (2k giveaway)

9. I think we’d make a lovely mess (Sterek) (FTH)

10. Keep Warm (Stiles/Liam)

11. A Quiet Destruction (Thiam) (Role Reversal) (Dark Liam)

12. Hot Potato (Thiam)

13. Your Son Is Gone (Thiam) (Dark Liam)

14. No borders can keep is apart (Thiam, Sterek, Tarlos)

15. Twisted Little Nightmare (Thiam)

16. Find Your Happiness (Thiam)

17. In Love and Death (Thiam) (MCD)

18. All The Ways I Love You (David/Chris)

19. Why Not Both? (Derek/Jackson/Theo)

20. On An Island In The Sun (Peter/Chris)

21. Down the Line (Danny/Derek)

22. Of Endings and Beginnings (Halemore)

23. Biting My Tongue (Jackson/Isaac)

24. Crazy About You (Sciles)

25. Not Quite Human (Scott/Isaac/Nolan)

9-1-1

26. Good Enough (Buddie)

27. Wolf At Your Door (Buddie)

28. Speak Your Words Into My Skin (Buddie)

29. We Should Be Married (Buddie) (Fake Dating)

30. Keep Me With You (Buddie)

31. To Him, You’re the Sun in the Storm (Buddie)

32. Happy Anniversary (Buddie)

33. Hopeless But Hoping (Buddie)

34. The Mystery Date (Buddie) (Derek/Greenberg) (TW Crossover)

35. The Sea In Our Blood (Buddie) (Pirate AU)

36. I Try Hard To Make It (Buddie)

37. How Love Feels (Buddie)

38.  Too Important To Lose (Buddie)

39. As we drifted towards the storm (Tarlos)

40. Where He Needs To Be (Tarlos)

41. Built to Last (Jevan)

42. Enchanted To Meet You (Jevan)

43. Look A Little Closer (Jevan)

44. Take Heart (Jevan)

45. You Can Have It (Jevan) (2k giveaway)

46. Our Secret (Jevan)

47. Sick Day (Albuck)

Tagging: @lovelylittlegrim @acejuddryder @hazelestelle @glittercake @eliestarr @theproblemwithstardust @prettyinsoulpunk @matan4il @lightfiretomypaperwings @seylaaurora @randofando-spoonie @thegreatgherkin87 @dopemixtape @firstdegreefangirl @li0nh34rt (and anyone else that wants to do this)

Other

48. A Safe Bet (Brettsey)

49. So Jealous (Brettsey)

50. It's So Obvious (Brettsey) (Severide's POV)

51. A Terrible Plan (Brettsey)

52. You're Not Going To Lose Me (Chenford)

53. Staring Down My Two Halves In The Glass (Percy/Oliver)

54. You're In Love (Fremione) (FTH)

55. Gotta Hurt Sometimes To Learn To Heal (Derek Hale/Malcolm Bright)

56. I Shut My Eyes At Seventeen (Derek Hale/Malcolm Bright)

57. A Friend In Me (Brightmel)

58. I'm Sorry For The Mess I Am (Brightmel)

59. The Way You Are (Brightwell)

60. Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Evan Buckley/Steve Harrington)

61. Dark Lute (Geraskier)

[quarterfromcanon]

Huzzah!

for @imunbreakabledude

Thank you for the wonderful idea generators you listed in your request; every single one served to spark some element of this piece and I had such a great time putting it together. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 Happy Valentine’s Day!

Word count: 3,820

Rating/content warnings: G. Mild swearing. No violence and nothing really sexual. Unless you count #archeryarms. They are quite powerful.

Relationships: Mostly general Gurl Group and co. in nature, but there may or may not be a little Rethaniel kernel planted here somewhere... ;)

Summary: Our beloved residents of West Covina take a trip north to engage in some Renaissance merriment.

Rebecca stood before the wall-length mirror and ran her fingers along the feather tucked above the brim of her hat. She adjusted the small tambourine tied to her waist and planted both hands on her hips. 

"Well, fair ladies... or, should I say, RenFaire ladies, are we ready?"

A row of restroom stall latches slid aside and their doors swung wide to reveal the rest of the Gurl Group, all clad in their carefully selected costumes for the day. Rebecca bounced in place and clasped her hands under her chin.

A net beaded snood held all of Paula's beautiful red hair. An ornamental ruby brooch was fastened to the bodice of her ornate raspberry gown. She smoothed the fabric and held her head high, striking a pose.

Valencia repurposed the faux leather portion of her Bride of the Pirate King costume and fashioned it to be part of her falconer garb, complete with a Velcro wrist attachment featuring a tiny plush merlin fitted with a hood. A simple plait kept her field of vision clear with the added bonus of helping combat overheating. She twisted sideways and nodded approval at her reflection, pleased with the silhouette.

Heather had happily seized the opportunity to go as an archer, a set of garments she'd been assembling piece by piece ever since she started her continuing education class. Her hair was braided and bound together to reduce the risk of distracting strays. Many of her beloved camo greens were present in this ensemble, albeit separated into individual components of her attire. She moved to tuck her hands into her pockets, remembered that there weren't any, and instead hooked both thumbs through the belt.

The bridge of Rebecca's nose scrunched as she grinned. "Crushin' it. Fresno, here we come." 

"Play us out, Cookie," Paula urged.

Rebecca scooped her lute - easily the most expensive item for her look since she had been adamant about carrying a functional instrument rather than a prop - off the countertop and strummed. Her gaze turned skyward as she left the rest stop bathroom attempting to generate lyrics on the spot. 

"The countess doth my song request, I go at her courtly behest, and now I introduce four: there were none quite so resplendent, connected yet independent, trust me I'm the troubadour..."

Scott and Tommy were already waiting outside dressed as an earl and a squire, respectively. Tommy gave them all an appreciative thumbs up and Scott applauded. The latter strode over to Paula when she emerged. Scott bowed and then held out his hand. "My lady?" He gestured in the direction of their waiting minivan in an unspoken offer to escort her.

Paula smiled and accepted his outstretched palm. "Milord."

While they walked, Scott called over his shoulder. "I like the new ditty, Rebecca. Lotta info in a little time. Nice and snappy."

Rebecca waved an 'oh, stop' gesture, but she was unable to hide her delight in receiving positive feedback. "Thank you. I couldn't resist a little Danny Kaye tribute. I think it could work better if I ramp up the speed of my delivery, now that I've worked out the words."

Valencia flanked Paula on her other side and leaned in close to whisper, "What musical was she talking about?"

"No idea. It must've been before my time."

They loaded back into the vehicle, though with considerably greater difficulty given the added layers of their new outfits. Paula now had to sit in the middle with Rebecca to have room for her voluminous skirts. Scott took the driver seat in her stead, and Tommy sat beside him. Valencia detached the falcon from its perch and buckled it into the rear middle seat to keep it from sliding around on the drive. Heather observed this with quiet amusement. She patted the fake bird on the head. "Safety first." 

The wardrobe-swapping pit stop in Tulare was only about forty minutes away from their final destination, a span of time which seemed to fly by after the previous three hours on the road. Eagerness for the festivities ahead reached a renewed high as the park finally came into view. Scott pulled up to the waiting staff member and exchanged pleasantries. He passed the young worker a bag of canned goods they'd brought to contribute to the faire's donation drive and then fished out his wallet to pay the parking and admission fee. 

As soon as they exited the van, all the sights and sounds swept them into the action. There were myriad tents on either side of the path that wove through the trees. Bakers, potters, and weavers sold their wares; blacksmiths hammered hot metal atop anvils, and a cheerful tune drifted from a shelter housing a trio of professional musicians. The food court beckoned with the scent of cakes, pies, meats, and sandwiches. Their first quarter of an hour passed simply drifting from one table of offerings to the next, admiring everything and strategizing how they would spend their money later. 

Once they'd gotten a general sense of the lay of the land, Rebecca began walking backward to face the group at large and clapped her hands together. "Okay, time to get the party started. Where to first? Birthday girls' choice. Heather? Paula?"

Heather pulled a face. "That's not gonna be how you introduce us all day, is it? You're gonna confuse everybody since it's not, like, actually either of our birthdays. Not even close."

"Okay, true," Rebecca conceded, "but 'a November day that happens to fall almost squarely in the middle between the two and on a weekend we could all ask off work' is a mouthful to explain to strangers."

"Or we could just try, y'know, not sharing any details of our personal life with the RenFaire performers?" Heather suggested with a sarcastic shrug.

"But then none of them will sing you a period-appropriate song or raise a celebratory cheer." Rebecca pouted. 

Heather nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly."

"Verily, thou art a most obstinate addle-plot," Rebecca remarked with a sigh.

"Oooh, are we doing the olde timey talk now?" Paula brightened. "I've been practicing for this."

"Aye, good lady," Rebecca confirmed and linked their arms. "I believe the hour is upon us!"

Just like that, all lighthearted squabbling was forgotten. Rebecca and Paula joyfully riffed off one another using every medieval and Renaissance vocab word they could recall. They even dusted off their questionable English accents for an added layer of "authenticity." Tommy and Heather exchanged glances at some of the inventive word choices, having acquired a passing familiarity with the correct terms on their individual visits to similar faires, but they let the giggling duo indulge in their antics.

A short while later, they stumbled upon another tent of interest, which appeared to be dedicated to wood carving. There were wall hangings, placards, canes, birdhouses, and countless other novelty handcrafted objects. One rather simple looking cube with hinges on the corner of a table caught Rebecca's attention. She plucked it up for closer inspection. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw the lion rampant carved into the surface of the lid. She pried the box open with her thumb and gasped. 

"Aww, there's a little compass inside! I wonder how much this would cost to send to Na--" Rebecca dragged out the first syllable of the name, realizing too late that she'd spoken the thought aloud. "--antucket. I've got a cousin out there who might enjoy it for... scout hikes."

She nodded perhaps a little too emphatically at the end of this improvised statement. Her eyes flicked from one companion's face to the next to see if they bought the cover story. The reactions were unanimously not in her favor. 

"You were about to say Nathaniel." Paula gave Rebecca a reassuring nudge. "Sweetheart, you don't have to hide it from us. We've known for weeks that you two have been writing back and forth to each other. I accidentally used one of his envelopes as a coaster when you invited me over to hear a few works in progress."

"Yeah, and you stowed another letter behind Estrella's tank," Heather added. "Which is literally transparent so..."

"Having a pen pal is actually kind of perfect for you," Valencia said. "You're the only person I've ever known who bought stationery as a souvenir."

"It has been nice, keeping in touch," Rebecca admitted. "We're in different countries, both staying introspective and working on ourselves, but I think we've gotten to a place where we can check in on each other without undoing all the positive growth." She turned the compass over between her fingers and then held it out for the other women to inspect. "Do you think he'd like it?"

Heather's head tilted to the side. "Exclusive product ... a little pretentious but still practical... prominently features an animal you could find in a zoo... Sounds like a match from what I remember about him." 

"Plus, it's kinda symbolic, y'know? Like he can use it because he's surrounded by wilderness but he's also finding his way," Rebecca explained. "This could be a memento to commemorate that."  

She removed the wad of bills from the change purse on her belt and separated the necessary amount listed on the sticker. Once the compass was officially in her possession, Rebecca swung the bag back and forth, considering what a nuisance it would be to have that hanging from her wrist for the rest of the day. She nonchalantly turned a sharp corner as they left the tent. There, she discretely tucked the remaining dollars into her bra and stashed Nathaniel's gift in her former cash pouch.

The others were gathered around the pamphlet guide now open in Paula's hands when she returned.

"Looks like a lot of the big events are in the afternoon," Heather noticed.

"Count me in for the show where the guy swallows fire." Tommy tapped the corresponding spot on the park map.

"And we're getting funnel cake later, right?" Rebecca pointed to Paula and then back at herself. 

"Oh, of course," Paula readily agreed. "It's quintessential fairground food." 

"Don't forget the giant turkey legs!" Scott added, already scanning the large painted menus in the distance so he could make a beeline to that station once they were ready to eat. 

Valencia looked ill at the mention and returned her attention to the accessory booth she'd drifted toward while the others spoke. She held up two pieces she might purchase and frowned thoughtfully. Heather plucked a small standing mirror off the display table and held it for her while she considered each necklace in the sunlight.

A faint buzz sounded from Valencia's satchel. She angled her body so the jewelry could rest against her chest without sliding off and then rummaged for her phone. "Ah, crap." 

"Who is it?" Heather prompted. 

"Darryl with the five thousandth Pinterest idea for his Blended Family Unity Ceremony. I thought the point was to do something simple and sentimental, once they decided they didn't want all the hassle and planning of another wedding in their lifetime. April seemed in favor of that. But Darryl's gone down an Internet-ing rabbit hole and can't be stopped. I thought the ceremony itself might clock in at twenty minutes at most, when they first brought it to me."

"Oh, my sweet summer child." Rebecca shook her head as she tuned in to the conversation.

Valencia’s shoulders sagged and she grimaced. "I know. Joke's on me. At this point, I'd recommend the guests just clear their schedule for the whole day. This latest concept involved a giant canvas and finger painting so... wear something you don't care about."

A collective groan rippled through the group. It was confessed, however, that they all expected at least one genuinely tear-jerking moment, given Darryl's fierce and unwavering attachment to each person who would be in attendance. 

The six of them then followed the map to briefly observe a staged sword fight and a live joust. Paula and Rebecca reminisced over A Knight's Tale and lamented the fact that more stories depicting the era did not include extended dance and/or musical numbers. 

"With the obvious exception of The Court Jester, of course," Rebecca said.

Paula gave a vague nod, smile locked in place but eyes blinking rapidly. "Right. Sure bet it does." 

"You've never seen it, have you?" 

"I'm not even sure if it's a play or a movie." Paula offered an apologetic wince. "You're sorta my primary go-to when I need to understand these kinds of references. I don't have the head space for it."

"I mean, a first watch is definitely something we need to remedy on a weekend soon but, given that I have three decades of passionate devotion to the art form, I get what you mean." Rebecca patted her lute fondly.

They stopped by the wooden ship stationed on the grass where actors dressed as pirates interacted with the crowd and set off small cannons. Then the group advanced toward the last thing on their list of pre-meal activities, which was to watch one of the live shows. The uproarious energy there sparked a sudden idea. Rebecca took extensive notes on her phone, deciding to flesh out her earlier improvised song into a full number to capture the vibe of the faire.

Afterward, they all left the seating in front of the stage and headed toward the food court. The sound of drums diverted their attention along the way and they searched for its source. A small gathering of belly dancers circled on a stretch of open lawn. Rebecca began nodding her head in time with the drum beat, but the motion stilled as she studied the trained and toned muscles undulating beneath the nearest dancer's skin. The woman stood out among her peers as not only being adept at the style but possessing a kind of theatrical charisma. She noticed her new audience and winked. 

Rebecca tugged off her troubadour's hat and fanned herself. "Damn, that level of confidence is sexy."

Eventually, watching half a dozen stomachs reminded them of their rumbling own. With some reluctance, they finally moved along. At last, it was time for their much-anticipated lunch. Scott immediately purchased his coveted turkey leg and ale, both of which he enjoyed while the others mulled over their dining options. As they scanned the stands, the girls spied a large kiln not far away and recognized a familiar dish in the shadows. 

Rebecca pressed a hand to her middle. "Okay, I know it's not the kind of thing you can only get at the faire, but I need that pizza in me."

"Seconded." Tommy joined his honorary sister in staring at the melting cheese.

Once everyone had a plate, they found a place to sit at one of the wooden tables. Paula dusted some of the powdered sugar from the funnel cake off her fingers with a napkin and leaned toward Heather, who was stationed diagonally across from her.

"So, I haven't seen you much since fall break ended. How's grad school going?"

"The marine biology coursework combined with the kind of work that gives me money is kicking my ass but, like, in a good way. Especially since so much of it involves trips to the beach."

"I really admire you for going back, and for finding an area of study that would let you take so many fun field trips," Paula praised. 

Valencia caught Heather's eye and beamed. "Well-played, professor."

While everyone ate, they unfolded the map again atop their table. They scanned the times for where each person wanted to go between noon and dusk when the event would close. A second-half schedule was established and they prepared to seek out the first stop. Before doing so, however, Paula opened her phone's camera for a picture. Rebecca rounded everyone else up for the photo. 

"Prithee, gather ye round the magic picture box. Lady Proctor wouldst appreciate the opportunity to capture our likeness and preserve the memory."

They wrapped their arms around each other and leaned into frame, looking respectably at home before a backdrop of other costumed faire-goers. Paula showed them all the end result before turning it back to herself and grinning at the image. "Perfect."

First on the listed activities was the archery contest. Heather rarely had an occasion to utilize her champion level skills as a bowman, so this chance was too good to skip. The competitors formed a line before their targets.

"Make ye ready!" the announcer cried. "Draw! Aim! Loose!"

Heather's shot found its mark and embedded in the bullseye. Her companions clapped and whooped. 

Rebecca watched her nock the following arrow and line it up for release. "She's got a whole Keira Knightley in Princess of Thieves look going for her today."

The second arrowhead pierced a hair's breadth from the first.

"I think it's kinda doing it for me."

Valencia nodded. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners while she regarded Rebecca with curiosity. "Are you having some sort of Renaissance awakening?" 

"TBD. Check back in with me later. Kinsey scale rating may need an update."

Heather’s final arrow was dead center. The announcer declared her the winner and the visitors from West Covina alarmed everyone nearby with the shouts that erupted from them. They surged forward to embrace and congratulate her. Heather awkwardly allowed herself to be jostled by her circle of friends. She exuded discomfort but, when they all formed a group hug, she did not squirm away. 

After that landslide victory, next up was a demonstration with a trebuchet. The impressively tall apparatus cut through the air and launched pumpkins at a makeshift castle wall. Tommy was ecstatic. He fished out his phone to record a video. "Brendan would love this. I've gotta send it to him."

At the mention of her eldest son, Paula's lower lip protruded sympathetically. "Do you miss your big brother knight, squire?"

Tommy tried to feign indifference, but the shift of his shoulders couldn't hide the expression that flickered across his face. "A little, I guess."

"Aww, pumpkin," Paula cooed. She hooked him toward her with one arm and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Me, too."

"Hey, careful with the mom smooches," Tommy cautioned. "Girls might not talk to me if they see I've already got a lipstick mark on my face."

Paula licked her finger and wiped off the traces. The boy allowed the assistance with resignation. "Okay, yeah, I did sorta set myself up for that one," Tommy muttered. 

Somewhere in the crowd, a recognizable voice caught their attention. 

"Just a minute, Amari. It's Agila's turn. Baba can't hold both of you on his shoulders at the same time. Somebody might fall... most likely me."

Paula stood on tiptoe and waved. "Sunil! Sunil, over here!"

Rebecca heard the name and slumped. "Great. This guy."

Sunil wove his way toward them, holding one of his daughters’ hands on each side. "Why, hello! Fancy meeting you here!"

He drew up short when he spotted Rebecca. "Bunch."

Rebecca arched her eyebrows. "Odhav."

"So, how are you liking the RenFaire so far?" Paula asked, interrupting the showdown.

"We're having a blast. The girls rode the giant unicorn. They said it would've been better if it were a pegasus but, hey, next best thing, right? We've caught three shows already. Really resurrects the old acting bug. And I'm still on a shopper's hunt for a crystal chalice with a palace. As we all know, it 'holds the brew that is true,' and I could really use the pick-me-up after four hours of bickering toddlers." Sunil chuckled at his own humor. Paula weakly attempted to do the same, lost.

Rebecca snapped to attention at the reference. Unable to help herself, she interjected, "Yeah, those can be pretty fragile. You might be better off getting a vessel with a pestle."

Surprised, but pleasantly so, Sunil's expression warmed. "You've seen The Court Jester."

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Rebecca's eyes went comically wide with fervor. "I've been talking about it all day. I must've watched that at least twenty times as a kid."

"How could you not? It's a classic."

Sunil gleefully launched into another quote. "'What are you loo-loo-looing about?’”

Rebecca was ready with the rejoinder. "'Oh, I'm not loo-loo-looing, sire, I'm willow-willow-wailing.'"

Sunil responded with a kingly wave of dismissal. "'All right, all right. Willow away, willow away.'"

They cackled.  

"Dear God," Paula murmured, but she was visibly grateful her usually adversarial friends were getting along.

"There are two of them," Valencia joked affectionately.

Sunil rubbed his hands together. "Listen, we were about to track down that lesson on how to do a courtly dance. Would all of you like to join us?"

This proposal was met with general agreement (although Heather required a little additional convincing to accept the prospect of participation). They reached the designated area just as instructions began. Most of the dance took part in a large group but, for the small section where those involved were expected to break off into pairs, they planned ahead for who would dance with whom. The combinations ultimately turned out to be Paula and Scott, Heather and Valencia, Tommy with both Amari and Agila, and - in a truce that would've been inconceivable prior to that instant - Rebecca and Sunil. 

As all the gathered dancers moved in a great circle, Rebecca took the opportunity to look at each of her loved ones in turn. The chances to enjoy hours with everyone like this sometimes proved rare and difficult to orchestrate, but shared moments of laughter and fun such as these made it infinitely worth the effort.

She turned to Heather on her left and gave the other woman's hand a teasing squeeze. "Having a good time after all?"

"I'll live," Heather answered simply, but Rebecca knew her well enough to detect the truth beneath her nonchalance. "What about you? You've been sending us a pre-trip countdown for, like, a full month leading up to this. Is it holding up to the hype?"

"Hundo P," Rebecca replied. "Ugh, it works when Maya says it but I think there might be too much of a generational divide for me to pull that off. In other news, I might be bi?"

Heather's laugh huffed out on an exhale. "Congrats on figuring that out. Welcome to the club. Darryl will make you a t-shirt."

"Thanks. I'm gonna need your out-and-proud advice later to sift through this brand new information, but it feels like I'm onto something."

"Anytime." 

"So, calendar date notwithstanding, has this been a good birthday?" Rebecca asked hopefully.  

Heather's lips twitched. "I'd let you talk me into it again."

In time with the music, Rebecca twirled in a circle and her friends all blurred together in her vision. A soft smile spread across her face. She thought she could safely declare this day a win.

[tendertenebrosity]

TJ and Danny, part 3

Third part, probably of 4, of my pieces set in @wildfaewhump‘s Path Verse! Other parts here and here. 

TJ sat in the little windowless room that was put aside for them to use in between court cases. There was a plain wooden table, scratched with graffiti here and there, and a few chairs with vinyl-covered padded seats.

He had his blindfold off. Compared to the cubby TJ spent his time back at the agency in, it was a strange, chaotic, worn sort of room, and he let his eyes wander over the surfaces with mild curiosity.

On the table in front of him sat a triangular packet of rigid clear plastic, with a couple of untouched sandwiches in it, and a little rectangular box of juice with a straw. He ignored the sandwiches, pulled the juice over, and took a cautious sip.

“… abso-fucking-lutely ridiculous. I know we’re short-staffed but there must be something you can do.”

TJ bit his lip and glanced over at the door. His handler had started the phone conversation attempting to be quiet, but that seemed to have been forgotten.

He turned the juice around and around in his hands, looking at the bright colours on the label. His headache had faded. His handler had left him a bottle of cold water and some paper hand towels, so he could wash his face, and that had helped a lot.

He still felt… weak. Shaky. Overflowing with other people’s emotions and memories. His stomach uneasy with fear and guilt, not sure how much of those belonged to him as opposed to being left over from other people’s.

The blinding hatred hadn’t been his, easy enough to tell because TJ was sure that he wasn’t capable of that kind of thing. Anger, not his either. The fear, there’d been enough of that in this morning’s readings, but it could also be his. Today’s readings hadn’t gone well.

I used to be good at this. I used to be able to do it. Why is it so much harder?

The conversation behind the door continued. His handler’s voice went even more gravelly, like it did when he was trying - and failing - not to lose his temper.

“Look, it’s been nothing but grisly murders and fucking nauseating assaults for two fucking weeks now. The Path’s about to go fucking cuckoo, and I won’t be far behind it, lemme tell you. If you – ”

He broke off. Whoever was on the other side of the phone call must have interrupted.

“Is it too much to ask to get, I don’t know, some fucking tax evasion or shoplifting cases? You can’t tell me every unit you have is on the non-stop murder train,” he growled. “You must have somebody doing something fucking lighter. Swap us out with them for a day or two.”

TJ sipped the juice, the taste of it sour on his tongue. He wished whoever was on the phone would agree. If TJ couldn’t go home to curl up in his cubby, a promise that the next few cases wouldn’t be violent ones would be better than nothing.  Still tiring, still difficult, he still wanted to cry at the thought. But better than nothing.

“Look, it can’t keep doing this. Apparently I’m not fucking allowed to pull the plug on a reading anymore, so what am I supposed to fucking do exactly?”  

TJ traced a finger along one of the scratched lines on the tabletop.  

“Yeah? Oh yeah? Well what about the agency’s fucking reputation when he pukes in the fucking judge’s lap, or when the journos get a nice shot of me hauling his comatose ass out of the courtroom like a sack of – ”

Silence.

“… yes. But –”

More silence.

“I understand that, but fuck it, what am I supposed to –“

The longest silence yet. TJ shivered, clutching his shoulders with his hands.

“Yes. All right. Fine,” his handler said, biting the words off through gritted teeth.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. After a few moments, TJ heard a quiet thump on the door, like someone had hit it with the palm of their hand or maybe leaned heavily against it.

Another few moments, and then there were three much more deliberate knocking noises. “Blindfold,” his handler called through the door, but TJ was already reaching for the black cloth blindfold across the table.

He had slipped it over his head and settled it over his eyes by the time the door creaked open and his handler’s heavy footsteps entered the room. He smoothed the material across the bridge of his nose, lights dancing against the familiar black for a few seconds, and then settled his hands in front of him on the table.

The handler regarded him in silence for a few seconds. TJ fiddled with the cuff of his undershirt with his fingers, adjusting to the darkness again.

The handler sighed, pushed the plastic of the sandwich packet across the table with a scraping noise. “I told you to eat.”

“Can’t,” TJ said, knowing he sounded sulky, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. “If I eat I’ll throw up.”

“Well, if you don’t, you’ll faint,” the handler growled. His fingers closed around TJ’s wrist, picked it up roughly, shoved the plastic of the sandwich packet under his hand. “Eat the sandwich.”

He settled into the chair opposite TJ, making a lot of noise clattering it against the table as he pulled it out. TJ tried not to wince.

“At least eat half,” the handler added, his voice gentler. “C’mon. You’ll feel better. Half, and if it makes you feel worse you don’t have to eat the rest.”

TJ nodded in surrender. His fingers patted around in the plastic until he found a triangle of bread, and lifted it to his mouth.  

The sandwich was dry. But, he chewed and swallowed the small bite he’d taken, and it went down OK. The taste of ham and cheese reminded him of something – some teasing thread of memory, he wasn’t sure what. Something he’d tasted, or smelt, in the last few days? Was it…

He wrenched his mind away from it firmly. No. Probably not even his memory. Possibly not even food related, and he was queasy enough as it was without getting sucked back into thinking about the first case. He focused on the now. In the now, TJ could feel the hard edge of the chair under his thighs, and the air conditioning blowing gently, cold on the wet strands of hair at his forehead. He could hear little electronic bloops as the handler did something on his phone.

TJ paused between tiny bites of sandwich. “Head office is m-mad?” he asked timidly.

The phone clunked as it was set down on the table. “Nothing to do with you, kid,” the handler said gruffly. “Busy week. You and me, we just do the assigned cases best we can. If head office - ” He cut himself off, with a scraping noise like he’d dragged a hand across something rough.

He picked up the phone and the beeping started again. TJ reached out, and found the juice where he remembered leaving it. He ate in silence for another minute, little nibbles of bread and cheese and ham, while the airconditioning hummed.

“I’m sorry,” TJ whispered.

“What for?”

“F-fucked up today.”

He heard the puff of breath that meant his handler was either annoyed, or stifling amusement. TJ thought the latter this time. “What’d I tell you?”

“Oh. Sorry. I mean, I messed everything up.” Sandwich gone, TJ folded his arms, grasped his elbows with his hands. “I d-didn’t – I didn’t get any of the readings right, I got s-scared and had to stop, a-and I threw up everywhere and, and, and – ”

“Don’t be stupid. You didn’t fuck up, you just...” A tap-tap-tap noise – the handler drumming his fingers on the table. “Look, the readings got done, perps got put away, that’s what counts. This afternoon and tomorrow we’ll try to be neater about it, but it did get done.”

Neater. Yes. Better. TJ sighed, feeling a little reassured. He still felt a little like this was his fault, but if his handler said it wasn’t, that had to be so.

“Feel better?”

TJ considered. He didn’t feel as sick as he had expected to. It did feel good to have something in his stomach, and he felt brighter, more alert. “Yes.” His hand went out again to get the other half of sandwich.

“There, see, I do know what I’m talking about.”

[radplaid-archive]

Can we know more about the werewoofs au?

Abso-fuckin-lutely ty anon

- sid is a werewoof but eval and qrow are not (dove when he shows up would be one too)

- eval knows, ryan is suspisious of him, qrow and danny have no idea, kain knows but no one believes him and sid makes a game of it

- ramen still exists but hes less sids and more evals (its not a really important fact but it deserves to be said)

- theyre not ai in the au theyre like proper human

- sid sheds. So much. Its bad no amount of brushing will save them..... also he tries to fight the vacuum so they can only use it when hes not around and even then hes gotta be AT LEAST five miles away

- hes 5'3 on four paws and just a couple centimeters shy of evals height on two

[champagnereverie]

Mile High Lullaby, Episode 1: Loveland Ski Area

We meet our intrepid heroes for this campaign at 11,000 feet, on a sparkling winter day at Loveland Ski Area. While all are there for different reasons, love of adventure is hardly one of them...most are reluctant visitors, and the peak’s rugged beauty is less of a draw than the warm fire place and activities happening at the Lodge.

We meet Alvin Redding, paladin, devoted son, Juggalo, scion of the vaunted Redding family and heir to the Red Rocks Environmental Development corporation (RRED). He is here with his best friend, former Juggalo/sell-out/RRED Head of PR, Danny McGee, and Alvin’s beloved mother, RRED CEO Elizabeth Redding (a Gucci devotee even in the face of single digit temperatures). Ever the good son, Alvin channels his fire genasi power to conjure flames and warm his mother, strange looks be damned. Elizabeth and Danny are slightly more concerned about the looks.

We meet Io Morrow, blue-haired air genasi astronomer, as distant as her objects of study. A druid with a connection to the cosmos as strong as any other’s connection to the land, she feels the pull of the stars and a simmering disdain for the light pollution that robs Denver and surrounds of their sky. She is here holding an educational lock-in for teens about light pollution activism with her fellow professor Evelyn Schneider. Evelyn prefers to be called Cassiopeia. Io refuses.

We meet Cedy Doun, a longstrider shifter of unicorn heritage that gives him unmistakable features that turn the heads of even cosmopolitan Denverites: the powerful haunches and hooves of a palomino horse and the upper body of a man, with a horn in his forehead that serves as the equine wizard’s built-in wand. Highly intelligent, educated, and wise, Cedy also possesses the high-strung nature of his ancestor...and a nasty narcolepsy curse placed on him by a witch he knows only as Naproxen.

We meet Lute, a drow farmer who is having a very, very hard time with all the sun shining off the snowy peaks, the ensuing snow blindness likely not what her coworkers intended when they sent the workaholic farm hand to the mountains for a rest. She is a simple woman, a bit of a bumpkin, but also a stout warrior and an absolute genius with mechanics. Lute feels out of place on the mountain, surrounded by the wealthy at play, thrill seekers, activists, and the occasional wandering curiosity, but at least she’s given a proper jacket before the sun sets on the mountain.

Io and Evelyn capture the attention of their fellows, preaching the ecological impact of light pollution on the environment, animals, and even people. They’re watched closely by pair of humanoid Denver police in the while and gold uniforms worn by all members of the theocracy. The astronomers’ diatribe turns critical of the gold-plated rooftops of Denver, mandated to honor the Sun Goddess Amatis, and they are interrupted by a Department of Wildlife ranger, who clandestinely alerts them to the authorities about to put an end to their lecture.

The ranger, a young woman with a bobbed haircut, heavy black eyeliner and a chip on her shoulder, seems to be familiar with two members of ski patrol: a stunning woman with long wavy black hair and mischief all over her face introduces herself as May, and gets Lute a coat so the poor drow doesn’t freeze. A tall, muscular man with a waist-length braid introduces himself as Chris and warns the newbies not to take the peak lightly.

As the day turns into evening and the final lifts are coming in for the day, the valley is rocked by the sound of an explosion, and an avalanche crashes down the slopes. The last occupied lift chair is buried under a mass of snow, threatening to suffocate or crush the family of three trapped beneath it.

On the bunny slopes east of the lift, a ski class is slammed down the slope by the avalanche onto the village pavement. To the horror of the instructor, two of the children from the class didn’t make it to the bottom.

Our heroes realize that under so much snow, the victims likely have 3 minutes or less before they suffocate. The countdown begins.

Alvin and Lute leap into action to save the lost students, following the baying guidance of Chris’ two basset hound assistants, Tybalt and Mercutio, who he rushes up the mountain in a sled pulled by a snowmobile. Faced with powdery snow that can’t hold their weight, Alvin uses his natural fire to make a solid icy crust for himself and Lute to run on, and they use their considerable strength to dig out 8-year-old Alex and his 9-year-old sister Rocio. Alvin wraps the boy in his coat and makes a tiny bro for life. When Lute pulls Rocio from the snow, she recognizes the girl likely has a collapsed lung, and sends her down the hill with May on the snowmobile to get her to treatment from the Emergency Clerics as soon as possible. 

Meanwhile, Io announces to all present that she’s detected the smell of gunpowder, and a massive brown wolf digs furiously at the spot where the last lift chair is buried. Io, driven more by curiosity perhaps than by any innate heroism, follows the wolf and helps dig...using her magic, she detects not just the family of three under the snow, but a fourth figure as well. Cedy, possessing hooves and a skiddish nature, considers fleeing until a small child on tiny skis bumps into him while trying to scramble up the slope. Learning that the child’s mom, dad, and sister are the ones trapped under the fallen chair, Cedy straps skis to his hooves, scoops up the child on his back and carries the little boy up the mountain.

Their charges safely delivered to the keeping of Ski Patrol, Alvin steals Chris’ snowmobile and Lute wisely rolls her way down the slow to the fallen lift. Realizing that one of the 4 shapes under the snow is somehow rising, the wolf shoulders the small child out of the way, and Cedy pulls the kid away from the hole. Io grabs a fascinating crystal as it rises to the surface, only to lose her hold on it when the wolf clamps its massive jaws down on her wrist. Alvin and Lute immediately start digging, knowing the clock is ticking for the buried family.

As the crystal falls, the first hand is uncovered from the snow...a man. The wolf grabs the unconscious man by the coat and starts dragging him down the hill. The fallen crystal snaps into a living being of ice and malice, and attacks our heroes with savage claws and frigid breath that’s so cold it burns. Alvin shrugs off the attacks of the creature, instead focusing on digging out a second figure...a little girl. The boy in Cedy’s care takes his sister down the mountain, and the wizard turns his considerable brain to the task of identifying the creature and its weaknesses...an ice mephit, impervious to cold but vulnerable to force or fire. Lute’s skill with a pitchfork becomes incredibly handy against the brittle creature, and Io hurls fists full of stars at the ice imp to melt its defenses. 

Alvin pulls an unconscious woman from the snow and gives her the very shirt off his back, his hair flaming with righteous anger and generating as much body heat as he can for the frozen mother. Slashed, frozen and battered, our heroes defeat the mephit and take a moment to lick their wounds. Chris appears, snowshoe-clad and riding the back of May’s snowmobile. Fortunately, as far as dudes go he is about as chill as they come, and he’s here to take the mother back to base camp, not to raise the issue of the stolen snowmobile. His hounds no longer bay urgently, but instead offer tail wags of a job well done. May checks on the party and gives her congratulations and very charming wink or two before returning to her ski patrol duties.

The large wolf appears again and, in a flurry of fur and magic, transforms back into the shape of the bob-haired Wildlife ranger, who at last introduces herself as Chipeta. With a an entirely inconvenienced groan, she casts a healing spell that fully restores the entire party as effortlessly as rolling her eyes, which she does - a lot. After a brief conversation with someone that our heroes can neither see nor hear, Chipeta tells them that they’re expected.

The party follows the wolf druid up the slopes to an impossible cave that could neither exist nor be hidden if it did, but here we are. “Grandmother wants to see you,” Chipeta tells them, and, much chagrined, adds by way of directions through the magical labyrinth of caves, “Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house you go. The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh.”

The party is thusly left to navigate the cave, which is warm and smells like autumn, with the sound of running water guiding them to a subterranean river. They ford the warm water and emerge into a forest, or at least the essence of a forest, as the scent of pine and feeling of soft fir needles on their skin doesn’t seem to have any source that our company can detect. 

They come at last to three separate paths, and, remembering Chipeta’s unenthusiastic rendition of the song, everyone looks to Cedy to see if, in fact, the horse knows the way. Suddenly aware of something strange in his pocket, Cedy realizes that something has been pickpocketed onto him - a stone, with three indentations but only one that passes all the way through. Matching the stone to the orientation of the cave, Cedy guides the party through a doorway to a large den occupied by a massive, sprawling tree covered in autumn leaves and occupied by a mammoth coyote wearing a beaded headress.

Grandmother Coyote welcomes the heroes with a smile that has entirely too many teeth and thanks them for helping her children. Chipeta, May, and Chris, it turns out, are all members of the Mouache tribe, who have been charged with keeping the Nameless trapped under the Continental Divide for as long as the people have inhabited these mountains. 

Grandmother then poses a classic riddle to the company: “When you walk the mountain, you come to two paths. One leads to the Sacred Valley, another leads you astray and you wander forever. Two golden reflections of the same woman appear at the head of each trail. One always tells the truth, and one always lies. What should you ask to determine who is who?” 

Thanks to Cedy’s powers of logic, they answer the riddle to Grandmother’s satisfaction, who then poses another...a riddle that does not yet have an answer, but that they must seek the answer to, instead. “Now what do you do if both reflections are liars? What do you do if neither knows the way to the Sacred Valley, and they lie to keep everyone at the base of the mountain, under her?” Charging our heroes to find the answer to this unanswered riddle and to help her children keep the Nameless contained, Grandmother Coyote offers them a gift, if they can find it, and they sense that they have taken enough of the ancient predator’s time.

 On the way out of the cave, our heroes catch sight of something in the summery river. Alvin fishes it out and finds beaver skin with strange pictoglyphs shaved into it. As they ask themselves what the skin might be, the glyphs come to life and sketch out the shape of the slope, and show a safe path down the mountainside and back to the village. Reunited with Chipeta at the entrance, our heroes make their way down the mountain, guided by the beaver skin map.

As they pass, the smell of gunpowder hangs in the air. 

[thelastspeecher]

26. — protection for Stangie in the Superhero/villain AU.

26. Protection

I went with the Redux version of the Superhero/villain AU - the version where Stan finds out he’s a dad when Danny and Daisy are three.  So here’s some sweet, sweet Stangie in that AU.

Prompt List

——————————————————————————————

              Stan swiped to another photo onhis phone.

              “Here’s Danny eating ice cream,”he said animatedly to Ford.  Ford let outa weary sigh.  “Hey, I listen to you talkabout science all the time, you can look at the pictures of my kids.  My kids are way better than whatever bullshityou’re doing in your lab.”  Afterreturning from another afternoon at Angie and Lute’s place, playing with hisdaughters, Stan was excitedly showing Ford pictures of what they had been upto.  Ford kept glancing at his book, whichhe had set to the side when Stan started showing him pictures ten minutes ago.

              “Fine,” Ford muttered, shooting anotherlonging look at his book.  Stan swiped toanother picture.

              “Angie took this one.  Here’s Lute showing me how to put Daisy’s hairin those cute braids she loves.”

              “Speaking of Angie…” Ford saidslowly.  Stan hurriedly went to the nextpicture.

              “Here’s Danny taking apart one ofher toys.  She’s gonna be an engineer orsomethin’ when she’s all grown up, I can tell.”

              “How are things going with Angie?”Ford asked.  Stan grimaced.  “Not well, I take it?”

        ��     “No, they’re- they’re goingreally well,” Stan said, putting his phone back in his pocket.  “I’m getting to know her and she’s getting toknow me.  She’s way outta my league.”

              “Aren’t most of the people you’vebeen in a relationship with?” Ford mumbled. Stan punched his shoulder.

              “Rude.  Angie outclasses all of my exes, okay?”

              “So you’re not planning onpursuing a romantic relationship with her, then?” Ford asked.  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

              “I mean…I would like to, but itprobably- it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”

              “Why?  Just because you’re worried she’s out of yourleague?  The McGuckets don’t care aboutthat sort of thing.”    

              “It’s-”

              “You already have two childrentogether.  You have the beginnings of arelationship,” Ford added.  Stan frownedat him.

              “Why are you suddenly playingmatchmaker?” he asked suspiciously.

              “I just think it would be amistake on your part to not at least take a shot at having a relationship withthe mother of your children.”

              “Hmph.”  Stan looked down.  “…I’ll take your opinions into consideration,I guess.”

              “Why are you so opposed topursuing her?” Ford prompted.  Stangrimaced.

              I don’t want to be in thisconversation anymore.  There was achirp from his hero pager.  Oh, thankgod.  Stan quickly removed his pagerfrom his pocket.

              “Gotta go.  Big fight,” he said quickly, getting up fromthe couch without even looking at his pager. Ford rolled his eyes.  “See youlater.”

              “Goodbye, Stanley,” Ford said, eagerlygrabbing his book and opening it.  “Gokick Sirocco’s ass.”  Halfway out the door,Stan froze.

              Shit.  Please don’t tell me I’m gonna have to go upagainst Angie.  He looked down at hispager.  Goddammit.

—– 

              Stan shot another fireball atTsunami, who Angie had told him was actually her twin brother, Lute.  Lute laughed.

              “What’s wrong, Flamethrower?  Feels like you’re holding back a bit.”

              Yeah, I am.  I don’t really wanna beat up my baby mama’stwin brother.  Especially since he’s beennothing but nice to me.  Well, except forright now.

              “Gimme a break, man,” Stansaid.  “I got some big news the otherday, okay?  My life’s in upheaval.”  Lute snickered.

              “And yet you still feel up forgoing a few rounds with me and my sister. Sure.  Nah.  I think you’ve got a crush on me.”  Lute grinned at Stan.  “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not mytype.”

              Not according to Angie.

              “Ow!”  At the large yelp of pain, both Lute and Stanlooked over.  Stan had managed to avoidactively fighting Angie, but that meant the person currently combating her was Stan’sleast-favorite coworker, Bud.  Somehow,Bud had managed to land a punch, sending Angie flying into a brick wall.

              “You son of a bitch, get awayfrom my sister!” Lute shouted, abandoning his fight with Stan to intervenebetween Angie and Bud.  Angie wascrumpled against the wall, holding her side. Stan’s breath caught in his throat.

              She’s hurt.  She might be hurt bad.  But if I do anything while I’m in my mask,that might-  In his peripheralvision, Stan saw movement.  He looked upat the bricks above Angie.  They werebeginning to crumble.  Angie let outanother moan, not noticing what Stan had. Stan looked at Bud and Lute.  Theywere both engaged in an intense duel, unlikely to notice much outside of theirfight.  Fuck it.  Stan flew over to Angie and picked her up inhis arms, just as bricks fell onto the spot Angie had just been sitting in.  Stan landed behind a nearby dumpster and setAngie down.  Angie glared at him.

              “You could’ve blown everything!”she hissed.

              “I couldn’t let you get hurt, Ang,”Stan snapped back.  Angie huffed and rolled her eyes.  “Don’t worry, thosetwo yahoos were too busy punching each other to see me rescue you.”  Angie let out a soft laugh.

              “Please call Lute a yahooin front of him.”  Stan grinned ather.  Angie winced again.  “Oof.”

              “You’re hurt.”

              “I’ve been hurt worse.”  Angie eyed him.  “You’ve hurt me worse.”

              “…Don’t remind me,” Stanmumbled.  Angie frowned.

              “Why not?  You were just doing your job all those timesyou beat me up.”

              “I don’t like thinking about howI punched someone I care about, okay?” Stan snapped.  Angie blinked at him.

              “You…care about me?” she askedquietly.  Stan felt himself immediatelyflush.

              “I mean, you- you’re- you’re mykids’ mom, so…” he stammered.  Angiegrinned.  She leaned close to him.  Stan felt his face getting hotter by thesecond.

              “No, I don’t think that’s it,”she teased.  “I think you might becatching some feelings for the lady what birthed your daughters.”

              “Just ‘cause I didn’t want you toget hit on the head by a buncha bricks, or I care that you might have a brokenrib, that means I’ve got a thing for you?”

              “Hmm, no.  But we have knocked boots twice, spent thelast couple weeks ‘round each other almost nonstop, and yer turnin’ redder ‘n aturnip,” Angie said cheekily.  Stan startedto get up.

              “Well, you’re clearly fine, so Ishould get back to punching your brother-” Angie abruptly grabbed Stan and pulled him close, planting a kiss on hislips.  Stan sunk into the moment.  When they pulled apart, he stared at Angie.

              “Yer not the only one what caughtfeelin’s,” Angie whispered.  Stan’sconfusion disappeared, replaced by a stroke of confidence.  He grinned at her.

              “Good.”

              “Ow,” Angie hissed, bending oversuddenly.  Stan stood and scooped herinto his arms.

              “That’s it.  I’m taking you to go see a doc.”

              “I don’t think my villain clinicwould like a hero walkin’ through their door,” Angie whispered.

              “Okay.  I’ll take you to see a doc after I changeback into my civvies.”  Stan paused as herealized something.  “Uh, Lute won’t besuspicious about the two of us disappearing, will he?”

              “If yer askin’ if he’ll think we’redoin’ it in a dirty alley again, no, he won’t. He doesn’t know about our flings.”

              “Not what I meant, but that’sgood to know.  I meant that he won’t comelooking for you.”

              “I’ll just text him that I got outof there or somethin’,” Angie said with a shrug.  She winced.

              “Stop moving,” Stan said firmly.

              “No.”

              “Damn, you’re stubborn,” Stanmuttered.  Angie grinned.

              “Mm-hmm.  Just like you.”