#This was a fun ask to dally with ty

[hajihiko]

how would you rank the sdr2 kids in terms of how easy it would be for junko to turn them into ultimate despair?

Ooooh this is a fun ask I'm gonna take my time w this one see u when it's ready

This is not "everyone gets hypnotized" btw this is "everyone gets manipulated to shit" and also just mmy speculation

Nagito: already pretty radical in thinking, already showed how he'll play the bad guy to incite the good guys into action. Doesnt have a lot of years left so he could be convinced that this was the only way for him to ever see the world he wants to see in his own lifetime, by speeding up the process of despair-to-hope. Doing it for a "good" reason, totally believes the world will be a better place after all is said and done.

2. Mikan: long history of abuse, was I think supposed to be one of Junkos first, with Junko being the first person to be 'nice' to her? Would be somewhat easy to make her dependent on Junko's gross simile of love. She also wants power over people (to make sure they can't/ wont hurt her) so as soon as you dangle the possibility of her new and slightly less shitty life being taken from her, should she not cooperate, I think she'd fold easily. Also wow she does show some concerning tendencies.

3. Peko: If Fuyuhiko had already been gotten, she'd follow easily, at first maybe to make sure he's safe, but unfortunately I think that a despaired Fuyuhiko wouldn't be above manipulating or ordering Peko around, and she's already half-brainwashed by the Kuzuryuu family. She's proven that she can and will kill. I think if she perceived it as for other people's safety, she'd do it more easily. Follows orders.

4. Impostor: such a good person, but regrettably also super sad. At first I thought maybe they'd be very hard to corrupt, but considering how lonely and ghostly they are, it might actually be kind of easy to both give them access to a lot of disguises (easier to pretend to be someone who's super recently and secretly dead) and also a chance to figure out who they themselves are. Even if that person is a super cruel and evil one, I don't think that's an objection as long as it's a very present and dynamic personality (they did want to impersonate Byuakuya after all) that can be switched off and on at will.

5. Hiyoko: already has some sadistic tendencies and comes from a position of power, but not at all independent, also childlike way of thinking king so easy to mould. Superiority complex a bit. She doesn't like working with people though or taking orders, so she'd need something decidedly in it for her, like all the extra power and safety and ability to bully people.

6. Fuyuhiko: Raised with the idea that killing and violence is necessary and not that big of a deal, has proven that he's capable of murder under the right circumstance. If he's isolated from his family and Peko, it's probably easy to tap into his general anger. What gets in the way is how he doesn't usually want to involve 'civilians' in crime and is kind of a stickler for rules, so I think if he was convinced that the school itself sucked, and then the people behind the school, and then the government, by then he'd be powerful enough to just do whatever he (Junko) wants.

7. Gundham: not a huge fan of people and very isolated, I think maybe he could be got with Poison Ivy style radicalism? Like "look at how badly these people treat animals, its fine to treat them the same way" kind of. He's already got his own evil narrative, maybe wrapping the whole thing up in a fantasy would get him too. Go forth Actual Overlord of Ice, commit actual atrocities, you're such a tragic villain.

8. Akane: Kind of gullible and easily manipulated, also she loves fighting and proving herself so I think she can could be manipulated into like, Proving She's The Best by fighting more and more and being cheered on by people until it escalates into straight up murder. I think her family back home would be the biggest obstacle but those could be taken of.

9. Souda: generally pretty cowardly, maybe joining more out of self preservation than anything else. Maybe some real opportunities to make his mechanical dreams come true, get away from his dad & make some money, be the invincible punk he wants to be. Might also wanna impress people so if he got peer pressured by, say, Sonia, he'd be pretty gone I think.

10. Teru: Money, power and general lack of strong morals, also kind of cowardly? I think if he wasn't the first one, and saw how powerful all the villain-hopefuls are, he'd be likely to join out of self preservation like Souda (and the opportunity to make money for his mom and save his restaurant).

11. Mahiru: She's very responsible and against violence and murder, so I dont know that she'd ever really go that route, but she doesn't really need to be a killer herself. She *does* feel inferior to her mom the war photographer, and Junko is basically starting an apocalypse, and Mahiru states that a photographer should always be taking pictures even of upsetting things. So I think she'd be documenting everything while doing nothing to stop it, basically compliant through apathy and negligence.

12. Sonia: I kept thinking shed be more morally grey than she turned out to be, but no she's just actually a sweetheart. I guess her calling might just be getting away from her super strict royalty lifestyle and into the spooky grim occult stuff she likes? Like if she somehow tapped REAL deep into her fascination with morbid stuff, she might eventually take a very distant role commanding other people and just watching stuff unfold. Maybe expose her own country for some grim stuff so she loses patriotic faith?

(Peko would be here if Fuyuhiko wasn't already got, girl's loyal as hell)

13. Nekomaru: Listen he's an upstanding dude. I dont even know how he'd get got unless he already had an in with a student that was already corrupted, like Akane, so his protective nature could be abused. Maybe he could start out trying to make others see reason and then end up just kinda going along, idk.

14. Ibuki: Arguably the most well-adjusted? She's so independent and already knows who she is and what she wants, so I think it'd be most about giving her opportunities she could never get from anywhere else, and maybe keeping her in the dark about how destructive the concerts are at first? Maybe convince her it's super metal to have people die at your shows? Not sure tbh

I didn't count Chiaki bc I wasn't super sure about her character re: what's seen in the anime and what's seen in the game, and also not Hajime since he was kind of a special case in the first place (might speculate on him later though).

[their-little-writer]

⊹₊ ⋆┊The Outsiders Characters as caregivers┊ ɞ ⊹₊ ⋆

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

Darry: 

☆ Hands down the most responsible caregiver out of all of them-  

☆ He is good with any age of regressors, but he prefers to have ones who have tiner mindsets, he just adores babies. 

☆ He will carry you as much as he can, “Whats wrong honey? Your to small to walk? Don't worry baby dada’s here” 

☆ He calls you honey, sweetheart, baby, and little one 

☆ He always makes sure to have one of your comfort items or foods near by 

☆ If he needs a babysitter, he asks Sodapop to help take care of you  

☆ He has a little box of toys for you in his room and when he gets a home or on a day off he will get the toys out and play with you 

Sodapop: 

☆ He is such a fun caregiver-  

☆ He loves to take his little ones outside to play games. He loves playing tag, going to the park, and in the summer, he takes you to the pool. 

☆ He thinks its adorable when you wear his flannels or his work shirts 

☆ he loves when you play with his hair (bonus points when you use the butterfly clips, he got you)  

☆ Since he is around Steve a lot, he is also probably one of your Carrers/babysitters. 

☆ He brings you little snacks from his work every once in a while 

☆ He calls you sugar, sunshine, prince(ss), baby, little one, kiddo, and squirt  

Ponyboy: 

☆ He is more of a quiter caregiver but nonetheless he is still a good one 

☆ He loves when its night time because he loves to curl up with you in bed and read you bedtime stories

☆ He knows (tries his best) to remember all of your stuffies 

☆ He will write little reminders about how he loves you and how he is so happy to take care of you  

☆ movie nights at the in are also a big thing 

☆ he calls you little one, baby, and love 

☆ He hangs with johnny a lot so he is also probably a Carrer/babysitter 

Johnny: 

☆ He like ponyboy is also more of a quiter caregiver  

☆ Johnny tries his best to help his little one with things like tying their shoes and helping them open their snacks 

☆ Johnny dosent really have a lot of money to get you tiny things but he tries to make up for it such as sneaking you in to the drive in for a movie or by asking ponyboy to barrow some of his art supplies so you can color. 

☆ Johnny loves to see you with his jacket on, he thinks its adorable 

☆  Johnny calls you “kid, little one, bug, and doll”

☆ He loves taking you to the park. He thinks its cute when you let him push you on the swings and sit on his lap as you go down the slide 

☆ If the two of you are at the curtis house and you get sleepy he kinda tucks you into his  jacket so you can  sleep 

Dally: 

☆ Dally Winston is- well- He is a protective caregiver, but he also needs help with it sometimes. Its not to say he is a bad caregiver he just wants to understand your needs better cause he doesn't wanna mess anything up with you 

☆ It takes him a little bit to get used to being a caregiver but when he does, he secretly enjoys doing it 

☆ He obviously gives you his necklace to fidget with (and so people know to leave you alone)

☆ He also gives you his jacket to wear ( He adores you in it ) 

☆ He has a space in his room that his hides your regression gear in  

☆ Dally always has an arm around you, he wants to make sure that people dont mess with you and so you dont get lost- 

☆ When its late at night and the two of you are in his room he loves when you  play with his hair  

☆ He calls you kiddo, baby, little one, baby doll, doll, and short stack ( it dosent matter if your taller than him he still dose)  

Two-bit 

☆ Two bit is such a good and fun caregiver ngl- 

☆ he is always watching mickey mouse in the curtis house anyways so when he found out you were a little he obviously let you watch with him 

☆ I personally head cannon that he is really good with younger ages and toddlers-   

☆ He gets you a shirt to match his ( he calls you the minnie to his mickey )  

☆ He defiantly buys you art supplies- and when he dose he loves to color with you  

☆ OMG man is the definition of tickle monster- He dose it because he loves hearing you laugh  

☆ He calls you minnie, kiddo, bug, little one, and baby 

Steve:

☆ Steve like dally needs a little help at first being a cg but when he gets it done he is a pretty good one 

☆ Steve loves carrying you and giving you piggyback rides 

☆ He takes you in his car to the diner or if your having trouble sleeping he drives you around at night with the raido on low to try and help you fall asleep 

☆ you are the ONLY one allowed to mess with his hair, He takes a lot of pride in his hair so he lets you play with it to show that he loves and trust you  

☆ When steve has to work he brings you with him- He lets you sit on the chair while he fixes up the cars and proably ask you to bring some tools for him while he tells funny stories 

☆  He calls you kiddo, babydoll, Prince(ss), and pumpkin 

☆ He knows not to give you sugar late but sometimes he cant help it, who else is he gonna share his chocolate cake with. He also thinks its cute when you  let him feed it to you  

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

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[2knightt]

can you please do dally and johnny hc's (seperate) of them dating a whimsigothic girl? ty!

↳nobody else matters, girl.₊˚✧

➬ J.C, D.C x whimsigothic!reader

a/n; i didn’t know what the whimsigothic shit was until i looked it up and i lowkey fell inlove. ALSO IM SO SORRY THAT IT’S SHORT I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO WRITE LMFAO

Johnny Cade ;

HE THINKS YOU’RE SO COOL??

if you ask him what to wear to an outing and you show him several different velvety dresses, he will explode.

“or this one? i think i like this one best..what d’ya think, johnny?”

“uh…”

“johnny?”

“what? oh! i like this one.”

he ADORES the velvety clothing you wear, especially if it’s a darker colour of one of his favourite colours.

he’s legit so inlove with your style.

if you’re witchy and collect rocks/crystals, tell him everything.

“what’s this one? it’s real pretty.”

“oh! that’s amethyst, it’s a calming, soothing crystal. take it!”

treasures it forever.

if anyone says your weird because of your style, he is ONTO THEM.

“can you believe what she’s wearing? like…this isn’t the 1800’s.”

“hop off her back, miss. you’re acting like your above her when you got jumped by a few 5th graders two weeks ago. quit it before i get a few..actual adults…on ya.”

he’s obsessed when you layer different clothing??

he thinks you’re a fashion GENIUS bro.

sometimes goes to you to ask what looks good and what doesn’t and how he can make his clothes look ‘different.’

“well for starters, take off the jean jacket. you wear it everyday, plus it’s summer! spice it up a bit, johnny.”

“it’s the prime thing of my look though…makes me look tuff..”

“makes you look like a bum too.”

tough, but he needed to hear it.

but overall, he’s OBSESSED period. nobody can change his mind, he thinks you’re the coolest girl EVER.

Dallas Winston ;

he probably talked to you just because of your style.

you stick out among crowds, especially since it’s the ‘60s.

i believe that dallas winston likes different, so that’s why he likes you so much.

when you wear a dress, it’s no joke, his favourite thing.

“i just bought this one, do ya like it?”

“i love it, y/n.”

will punch anyone who makes fun of you.

he can and he WILL.

“you let her walk out of the house like that?”

BAM! knocked out cold.

loves anything with lace.

it drives him MAD.

idk what it is with dallas and lace stuff but i feel like he loves it so much.

loves darker colours on you, even if your more of a lighter colour gal, he will be drooling if you wear dark colours.

doesn’t understand layering.

he cannot understand why you’d put this sweater jacket thing on top of an already pretty dress.

“..why?”

“why not? it looks cute like this.”

“it’s hot as hell outside and you wanna sweat more?”

“being pretty comes with it’s downsides, dal.”

may 24th, 2023. 4:05pm

[staygoldponyboi]

hcs for the gang going to disney for two bit pls (sorry if this is a little too specific 😭)

NOOO DWWW!!! specific asks are easier to write about and I love them

anyways on to the hcs

Pony:

He’s glad about how happy Two is. He’s going on a lot of rides…just not the roller coasters

Soda:

Soda’s going on the fastest roller coasters. Over and over again.

Darry:

Darry is the one telling everyone to be careful on the rides and watching them. He convinced everyone to go for Two.

Johnny:

Johnny didn’t mind tagging along if everyone else was going. He only goes on the low adrenaline rides and the ones for little kids, but he’s having a lot of fun. he loves the food as well.

Two:

Two is having the time OF HIS LIFE. he’s taking photos with every disney character costume-person (idk what to call it 😭😭) and freaking out. he isn’t going home until he goes on every single ride at least once. he is obsessed with the merch and buys a ton of headbands and shirts and just squealing

Dally:

“Ughh…can we go home now?” he was forced into coming for two but doesn’t want to stay for long. he doesn’t mind going on some rides with johnny and pony though.

Steve:

like soda, he LOVES fast roller coasters (sorry can’t relate) and goes with soda and two. one of his favorite parts are the roller coaster photos (those silly ones that capture your face during the scary parts). he’s stuffing his face with cotton candy.

i hope these were good enough :) ty for requesting anon <3

[sothischickshe]

Writing ask games are so fun!!

Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

I was JUST talking to a friend about this! Do you have a preference for narrative versus summary styles? Is either more challenging than the other?

Thank youuuu 🥰🥰🥰🙇🏼‍♀️ & 🤝I agree they are fun (+ maybe capable of shaking something loose 😅)

Although coming in hot with the hard question/s I see! 😅😄

Okay: dialogue vs description... I'm not sure I have a preference?! I like writing both, and I think both are challenging, especially to do well/succinctly.

And... ~it depends!! I find writing dialogue pretty fun generally, but if I'm writing Beth & rio speaking to each other my face gets grumpy & lots of stuff ends up crossed through bc I tend to violently dislike it when they speak (🤯🤯🤯) & also they're so taciturn, nonsensical, insane etc.

And description! I mean what even is that! Of settings, of ppl, of outfits, of how ppl are speaking (eg volume, pitch, facial expressions & movements etc)...? It's a huge topic to lump together as a preference no, and not to be that guy (just kidding! I love to be that guy!) there's no reason dialogue couldn't be descriptive eg 'what did the man look like?' '18ft tall with 7 feet and bright purple scales'.

So first of all: kinda false dichotomy maybe? But most of all: deffo false dichotomy, in that I think the really hard bit is knitting them together! Just back and forth dialogue btwn (espec only 2 characters, particularly of different genders so you can rely on pronouns as identification) isn't so hard, and neither is finding ways to describe whatever needs describing: and even if the latter doesn't come super naturally, I think if you can identify what needs more detail to bring it to life, that's a workable challenge. The heavvvvy difficulty is tying them together dynamically, & unforcedly!

~conversations (I'd say beyond only dialogue, bc there could be unspoken communication via say eye contact, body language, movement etc) can be a great way to pepper in descriptive texture (eg of the environment, the objects characters are interacting with, the characters & their physical responses) but it's a fine balancing act!

Typically when I'm reading a conversation, I want to know what the other person says next in response!! I don't always want a lot of superfluous detail abt where their fingers are dallying!! That can take the reader out of the rhythm of the dialogue! If there's a paragraph of motion and detailed description btwn each spoken line and/or relevant gesture, I might simply forget what the heck they're responding to by the time we get there!!

So I think ^structure & rhythm/pace (as well as what pov it's filtered through) become v important. If it's a "dialogue" scene btwn oh let's say 2 v taciturn annoying insane etc chars where actually only about 3 lines of speech are exchanged, having a lot of additional descriptive texture can help. If the responses are being eked out, then a lot of glaring & gesturing & looking away at other stuff indeed makes sense to be happening & makes sense that it would be noticed by the pov character. Whereas if it's a rapid fire screaming match, too much detail & motion can slow the scene down, be distracting for the reader & easily seem unrealistic for the pov character (eg why are they staring at the actions of each individual finger when it was established a moment ago they were glaring into another character's eyes? How are they taking in & enumerating micromovements when they're established to be apoplectic with rage & incapable of focus?).

I'm trying to type up a ragged paper first draft atm, and what I've been struck by for the dialogue + description sections is:

too many dialogue tags! In order to convey who is (still, sometimes) speaking + shove in some relevant description, there can end up being too much he says she says where it doesn't need to be specified, which can get clunky & repetitive, and inevitably slows scenes down

Too much/fussy visual detail -- description can be fun, but ultimately writing can never convey visuals the way TV/film/comics can. It's easy to fall into the trap of trying to make the reader 'see' the story, but again I think this runs the risk of slowing things down too much and also if everything is described in detail, it makes it difficult for the reader to pick up on what's important (but conversely, if only the important things are described, it can make it too obvious what's plot-critical)

Beth and rio are... There I guess? And... Wearing clothes maybe? And rhea is there!! Let me describe to you her entire outfit, including each pocket in vivid detail 😂 (the author might like one character more than the others and maybe she should just leave it like that cos she's right!!!!)

Sentences aren't that load-bearing!! You can't realllly just throw 24 commas into one and pray it makes sense, which can make knitting dialogue + description together more challenging, espec in terms of trying to keep sentence structure varied (eg not 12 in a row starting with a pronoun or name, or SVO generally)

I'm looking fwd to one day being at the editing stage to find solutions 😊 & I don't know if I'm cheating but I deffo vote for an idealised seamless combo as the really challenging bit!!

Which leads clumsily onto your second q, narrative vs summary styles, to which I'll start by saying (since it is the brand): false dichotomy...?

Firstly cos I'd probs term it ~scenic vs summary (given that I think summarisation IS still [or does still have? 🤔] narrative), but also bc they frequently operate in combination, and, as ever, ~it depends.

Dialogue (+ description) scenes are probs the perfect vehicle for the combo! In order to keep dialogue snappy & engaging, over realism, things like pauses or repetition are often culled from the genuine "spoken bits", and summarised eg 'he agreed & they organised the next meeting', 'he said her name again', 'she ummed & ahhed, until eventually admitting it'.

Additionally, I generally prefer summarised dialogue when characters are remembering something from the past, rather than them apparently having perfect recall of a conversation from ages ago. This also allows for them remembering in full detail one or two choice lines that were yelled @ them to stand out!!

Likewise, this switch is a device that can be employed to display information about the pov character/'s ~mood eg is there a full record of conversation with one character vs with others it's simply summarised? Or are their scenes with character/s when they're on good terms detailed vs ones where they're on the outs just staccato summaries? Or indeed vice-versa! What are they paying attention to, and what are they comfortable expressing even to themself?

Ppl talk about the difference btwn the two styles (& indeed showing vs telling) as if they're absolute, but I'm not sure I adhere to that. If you have a character who is v matter of fact (at least in some scenarios), their pov might come across as summarisation rather than scenic; if you have a character that doesn't want to engage with their interiority (at times anyway), scenes might veer twds the telling side. That's not necessarily bad!

Ultimately I think it depends on the type of story! Many will have both 'proper' scenes & summarisation, and I think they work particularly well in concert bc of the contrast! The latter is often used to convey the passing of time succinctly (although I think that can be done scenically too, eg with the length of them, or bg deets), and I'm a proponent of allowing things to be glossed over which arent super relevant bc the reader doesn't need to be bombarded with too much (as that makes it difficult to pick out what matters) & also cos otherwise it gets too bloody large (hell for author).

A seamless transition btwn the 2 styles (ie from general to specific) can be one of my fave narrative tricks to experience as a reader eg (à la 85% of dh Lawrence stories) 'he lived in a cottage, with a long lane behind it. Every day he took that route to work, climbing over the tall gate. The sun was shining, hot on his head & bright on the clover as he panted along', like oh OK we've arrived at the action in the middle of the establishing detail have we!!!! Conversely, it can be one of my most hated experiences to read (what! I contain multitudes 😂) eg a couple of proper scenes suddenly descending into summary with not even a line break between 🤯 (I suppose it comes down to whether it feels intentional, vs messy? 🤔)

& I think both have challenges! A story purely composed of 'real' scenes runs the risk of putting too much onus on the reader -- can you know that you've conveyed what you wanted accurately as the writer? And to whom? What implicit references could be clear universally? (is an audience of a different generation or region or experiences going to pick up on things the same way?) plus a bunch of similar scenes can become repetitive -- do you need to slog through each weekly meeting, or do you just want to display one or two, then establish that they keep going on? (repetition CAN be really powerful, bc if it's established then the breaking of that routine may be v striking, but you probs don't want eg the minutiae of several similar council meetings if they're not super plot relevant.)

But is summary too simplistic? Is stating things removing needed ambiguity? Are these things which could have been displayed elsewise and/or earlier?

I'm not sure I have a preference, and I'm not sure they can realllly be separated out (most proper snapshot scenes will have some degree of summarisation to them), and I think ~summarised storytelling gets a bit of a bad rap & is unfairly seen as juvenile where it can be such an effective way to move through time, can certainly be told v much via the pov character's lens, allows authors to skip over stuff which would bloat the story (or indeed paper over weaknesses) & can be so so effective in short stories.

Especially where the two are used in combination, I think it comes back to structure & pov for me. What's actually relevant to the story? What would the ~narrator bother to dwell on? How long do you want this monster to be?? What needs to be clear to the reader? If everything else is the other way, does diverting here feel weird or does the difference underline a change in mood/focus/whatever?

And ultimately: trying things out is the best! The more comfortable I've got/ten with being able to do different things, even if not to a very high level, the better I feel about the ability to utilise them as a tool!

Writing asks

[socheckitout-mikey]

Can you do kissing hc’s for Dallas Winston like you did for Tim? (Can also lead to nsfw if you want)

sure, sure! i hope you enjoy these! <33 i kindly ask that due to this being a slightly nsfw post that MINORS DNI! ty. - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dallas Winston Kissing (Slightly nsfw) Hc's:

° Kissing Dallas Winston is one hell of a ride. He never gives you one of those lame, gentle and little pecks most respectable lovers do. In fact, he's an all or nothing kind of guy like Tim Shepard. There's a roughness to him that's intense, because Dallas always has the intention of taking your breath away. He doesn't give a rats ass about whether you're in public or not, because he'll still do it anyway.

° But if it really bugged you an awful lot, he'd hold back a little. There's no guarantees though since Dally wants everyone to know that you're his partner. He's not shy about that kind of thing, but he does want you to also feel comfortable.

° He's a huge tease! Dallas Winston's always teasing you somehow; whether that's from doing too much or just barely skimming his lips against yours' before pulling back just out of reach. He's an ass in each circumstance that makes you want to kiss him even more.

° Just imagine the scene: You're at the drive-in because Dally managed to steal Buck's T-Bird for the night. Neither of you are paying any mind to the movie in front of you thanks to him. He's leaning in real close, fingers ghosting up your soft arms before he nips his plump bottom lip seductively. A gaze filled with electricity flickers down to your lips with a dark spark twinkling within it. You've long forgotten about the movie by now, subconsciously leaning closer to your boyfriend as though he's the drug in life that keeps you going.

° Right as your lips are about to collide with each other's, Dally turns away at the last second, sitting up straighter in his seat - propping his left hand on the steering wheel casually. He can't hide that shit eating grin he has plastered across his face whilst he takes in the cowboy shooting at his enemies on the screen. He couldn't give a rats ass about it, instead feeling the hot glare you've set on him. It's that huff of disappointment you give him when he says, "I think we got the wrong spot. I can't see shit." When he very well could see shit!

° He's chuckling to himself, eyeing your reflection in the windshield: All miffed and worked up. So he turns to you, says all coolly, "Why you gettin' all worked up, sugar?"

° Honestly, he knows all too well why you're this way. He just wants to hear you say it, and when you do, he's still simpering like a devilish wolf.

° "We got all night to have some fun, don't we?" Patience has never been your virtue and Dallas Winston knows it all too well. It isn't his either - well, not unless he's in control that is.

° He's always smirking either right before or after a kiss, saying something dirty to get you embarrassed. He does this solely because he always wants to be the reason behind that "innocent" reaction.

° If you're not the type to get embarrassed easily, just know that he is a determined guy that'll find a way: Even if it's getting under your skin. The more fiery you are, the more he'll dig you. He enjoys someone that can keep up with him. It's even better when you can flirt and show him a taste of his own medicine. It'll make him crazy for you.

° Dally's hands tend to wander whenever you kiss. Make out sessions are definitely bound to occur at some point on the daily: He doesn't care if there is an audience staring and gasping or not. The more eyes the better. He's the kind of guy that goes out of his way to shock people anyways. He isn't for the fainthearted.

° "Eh? Forget about em' starin', they dunno what they're missin'." He breathes against your lips hotly. He wants all of your attention on him.

° In private is when Dally dabbles far more into his softer side because there's no prying eyes on him. He's comfortable, relaxed even, when it's just the two of you. He allows a more vulnerable side of him to come to the surface, which he denies vehemently. His lips tend to linger against your forehead or temple when you cuddle on his shitty bed in one of Buck's bedrooms. It's a nice contrast from his passionate side that he shows the majority of the time. These moments are special and you treasure them dearly.

° You're fast asleep, looking like a peaceful angel, and Dally cannot help but admire you for a few short moments. There's envy swirling in his guts, because he wishes he could experience this sort of peace when he sleeps. He wonders what you're dreaming about before the envy irritates him enough to the point he says with a shake of his head, "I'm gettin' too soft for this shit...."

° A few short moments tick by before he will flick your forehead, startling you awake. He slips off the bed and out of the room wordlessly to take a long smoke break outside or to fix himself a drink downstairs. Just don't bring it up to him later because it bugs him something awful. Vulnerability isn't Dallas Winston's strong suit.

° If you ask him why he woke you up like that, he just grins dirty, presses a sloppy kiss to your lips and guides you to lay down again. "You were droolin', Captain Slip 'N Slide!" He chuckles at your horror at the nickname he just dubbed you.

° Expect a lot of kisses and nips against the nape of your neck and shoulder. Dally leaves these marks on you sometimes - often harmless little red welts that make you flinch because he nipped you too hard. It usually happens when you're watching TV on your couch. It's nothing dirty, just something to pass the time. He does it totally subconsciously until you swat at him for chewing you up like a corn on the cob. It only makes him laugh, nipping you one last time a bit harder, because no one tells Dallas Winston what to do. But he lays off of you after that.

° Dallas's kisses are usually unpredictable: You're not too sure what you're going to receive next. This is especially the case after he's come to you to get patched up after a fight. He doesn't like the tears burning your eyes when you silently patch him up, because you prying will often make him angry.

° Once you're finished he settles himself onto his feet and kisses the top of your head real gently, "Ain't no need to cry. I'm alive ain't I?" before he goes into your kitchen to fetch a beer for himself and a glass of water for you.

° He urges you silently to drink it, setting it down in front of you. He knows you're mad: He promised you a thousand times before that he'd never do this again. Dally can't stand it when you're mad at him for long. He pretends as though it doesn't drive him crazy, but it does. Disappointment is okay from everyone else in this world but you. So he pinches your chin between his thumb and finger, lifting your chin up so you are looking at him.

° His gaze is mixed with many emotions you've never seen. The kiss he gives is a hybrid of gentleness and his fiery passion for you: He knows it's love, but he won't say it. It isn't long before you return the kiss, leaning into him whilst you cup his sore face in each of your hands. When you pull away for breath, he's half smirking, wiping his thumb against the corner of your lips before uttering, "Atta girl/guy."

° Kissing Dallas is beyond anything your imagination could muster up. You never want it to stop, because the world halts for just a moment. He kisses you in a way that makes it hard to think. He's addictive, knowing the best way to keep you coming back for more. He loves you. He really does, and you keep him on his toes. Enticing him just as much in return.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: closed!

[stevelovbot]

cause y’beautiful

pairing : dallas winston x african-american reader

warnings : angst and some racism; if that’s a triggering topic for you, please don’t read. also, if you need anyone to talk to about an issue concerning that topic, feel free to dm me.

a/n : based off of this request by the lovely @danddwife : “Hi I see you lost the outsiders 💓I was wandering if you could write a one shot or whether you perfect with Dallas and an African American fem reader.” 

you were sitting in your bed, tying your curly strands of hair into a bun. it was a summer evening, and god knows, summer evenings are really damn hot in tulsa, oklahoma. you were at buck’s place upstairs, opening all the windows, waiting for your boyfriend dallas to come back from the diner. at least when he came back, you wouldn’t have to be both bored and hot.

“hey doll, whatcha doin’?”, dally’s voice boomed out. he reached towards you for a hug, but you stepped back.

“no! don’t touch me!”, you squealed as you moved back.

“heeeey, why not?”, he asked jokingly. “i’m tired n’ bored n’ all i really want to do is hug my girlfriend but she won’t let me? bullshit, man.” 

“cause y’sweating, dal.” you said. “take a bath first.”

he feigned annoyance and left to go to the bathroom, smacking your bum on the way and sending you a cheeky wink. you just smiled back.

knowing dallas, and the fact that he takes forever and then a few years to take a proper shower, you plopped back onto the creaky queen bed and continued to file your nails. after what felt like forever (see, you knew he would take a billion hours), the door opened and out came an extremely wet, but still extremely attractive dally.

“there y’go. better? now, gimme that hug will ya?”, dally asked.

you giggled as you leaned forward to hug him back. pecking a light kiss onto his cheeks, you smiled as you leaned back.

“oh! i almost forgot! evie ‘n angela invited us to go to the drive-in for dinner! the gang’ll be there too, c’mon it’ll be so fun!”, you said.

“’m tired as fuck though, man.”, dally grumbled.

“it won’t be long babe! i promise!”, you pleaded.

“hmmm. ‘kay fine. but y’gotta give me another kiss before i go get dressed, doll.”, dally said.

happily obliging to his deal, you smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips before going and getting dressed. when the two of you finished getting dressed, you walked down the neighborhood to get to your destination.

as the two of you paid for your tickets and popcorn, angela made her way over. 

“hey you two! i didn’t think you’d make it!”, she said.

“well, i guess we did after all!”, you smiled. “this one was a bit reluctant though.”

“i was not! ‘m just tired is all!”, dally said.

angela giggled, beginning to lead you two over to where everyone else was.

“you two head right over, i’ll just grab some cola.”, you said.

you walked over to the concession stand and stood in line behind a few of the socs. one of them turned around and looked you up and down, then laughed.

“what are you laughing at?” you fired.

“nothing. just wondering how someone like you got to hookup with someone like him.”, she gestured toward where dally was standing.

your eyes pooled slowly, and you winced as if a flame was ignited upon your cheek. you got these comments a lot. “someone like you” wasn’t just an insult based upon your style or your money. it was based off of your race. all throughout your life, these comments had kept getting to you. however you had never gotten one like this, about your relationship with dallas. it was the one thing you treasured the most.

dropping the money you were holding, you ran back straight to buck’s place. not to dallas, just straight to buck’s place. you crumpled on the floor as your hair fell in tight curls out of your ponytail. and that’s when the dam burst again. he could have anyone truly. why you? you closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself.

upon opening your eyes again, you had found yourself lying on the bed, with dally concernedly hovering over you. when he saw you open your eyes, he felt relief flood through himself.

“doll? ‘s anything wrong? why’d you come home early?”, he asked.

“i just - i don’t understand, dally.”, you sobbed into his chest.

“shh, i’m here f’ ya doll, let it all out.”, he soothed you.

“i don’t understand - why would you wanna be with me when you could have anyone? ’m not skinny, ‘m not pretty, goddamn’ i’m not even white. y’know what happened at the concession stand? a soc told me she doesn’t understand why you’re with me ‘cause you’re you and i’m just me. plain old little me.”, you sobbed.

“hey, hey. listen to me, doll. i’m with you ‘cause i love you, okay? you may not be skinny, but you’re perfect to me. you think you aren’t pretty, but to me, you’re the prettiest person i’ve laid my eyes on. you’re not white, who. fucking. cares? our skin colors don’t define us, do they? i know i didn’t go to school for much time at all but if there’s one thing they taught us, it’s that every single fucking person is equal. okay? never ever let me hear you belittle yourself like that because of your race. i love you cause y’beautiful. inside and out.”, he said.

you felt your eyes prick again, this time not because you were sad, but because you never knew that he loved you this much. and, you knew he was right. your race doesn’t define you. your actions do. 

[pillage-and-lute]

In All that I Have Done

Sad. I recommend listening to Arvo P ärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel while reading. Very, very sad, cannot stress this enough. Non-explicit major character death. (Happens of old age but still)

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More than forty years after the fall of Cintra one Professor Pankratz put down his pen. In the last ten years his hands had lost some of their surety, but his quill didn’t shake when he put it down. 

He ran one hand down his face. His beard had started going silver just after he’d adopted the style, but both it and his hair were now fully steel grey, with not even a hint of their former color. He adjusted his spectacles, tweaked the fashionable, but less than flamboyant hem of his doublet, and began to read what he’d written.

The last will and testament of Professor Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. 

I am writing this, sure and sound of mind, if not of body, in the event of my death. For many years I had a living, de facto will, that is, who ever found me dead by the roadside could loot my body for what they wished. As I got older and my body forced my errant heart to settle down I realized that this could no longer be the case. I fear I have put this off much too long, but happily, it seems I was not too late.

To my remaining family, my baby brother Alfons and his wife Iwona, I leave the rights to my songs and other works, and the royalties to them. Have fun. Alfons, Iwona is a beautiful woman and I would have wooed her, but that you were so in love I couldn’t bring myself to steal her away. I write this with a chuckle, Iwona my dear, because if you’ll remember we met first, and I introduced you to my brother only after you’d hit me in the head with a frying pan for flirting. 

I have also set up a trust, a portion of the royalties will be funneled into it for your son, Mikolaj, although he is a strapping young man who may never need it because he is a fine craftsman, as these spectacles he made me can attest. With luck he may spend it on marriage, should he ever woo that baker lad who made those charming blackberry tarts.

To the grandson of my friend Priscilla, Gaj. You have just been born and are a wonder beyond belief. Your parents are lovely people and you are lucky to have them. They should feel lucky to read this since I fear I shall be long dead before you learn your letters. However; there are times I wish I had fathered children. There are also times I remember what those who do go through and am thankful I did not, but you are a miracle. In the hope that you are given the very best of education, I have put in a word with the university. Should you choose, you will have the best schooling the Continent can offer, free of charge, with the compliments of Oxenfurt. Just, when you are someday a raging young student, sloppy drunk on a night out, think of me, if you can think at all. 

As I have of late stayed in quarters provided for me by the university and their gracious staff, I shall relinquish it all in return, as well as whatever items are held within not listed here. There shall be money in the vase by the fireplace for my funeral, as well as a generous tip for the maids, who have been wonderful and kind to an often forgetful and frail old man who is too much in his feelings.

My wardrobe I leave to whoever wants it, apart from my best blue doublet. (The sky blue one, which brings out my eyes) I should hope to be buried in it.

And finally, to my dearest and truest friend, Geralt of Rivia I leave a note, a song, and a gift.

Jaskier once again scrubbed his hand over his face. His study held a chill, despite the fine summer day, or perhaps it was just him. He got cold so easily these days. His breath rattled a little as he took a deep breath and hauled himself out of his comfortable chair. Melitele’s great gorgeous thighs, but his knees ached today. Jaskier paused at the mirror to tease his hair into place, advancing years never having divested him of his style. He flashed a wink into the mirror and shoveled a little coal into the small fireplace. 

He settled again at his desk, a different paper in hand, separate from the will, and began to look it over. This letter held none of the fine penmanship of the other, instead the letters were blocky and easy to read, better for the eyes that may have gained much in a mutation but skipped lightly over letters and switched them about.

My dear Geralt, it read. In all that I have done, I have had but one masterpiece. Critics may disagree on my greatest work, but I know it exactly, and have since the day of it’s birth. My opus was not Toss a Coin, or even the rehabilitation of yours- and all witchers- reputations. My masterpiece was my relationship with you, a wonderful and awful secret masterpiece of the heart, mind, and soul.

I know you do not dally about with words, but lest you misunderstand this last, most important of missives, we must discuss them. The word awful is now so said as to mean the same as terrible, but this cannot be true at all. Terrible is that which inspires terror or creates fear. Awful, or aweful, if you will, is to inspire awe. To be full of it. Sometimes that awe is fearful, sometimes reverential, perhaps a condemnation and sometimes a blessing. You, my friend, inspire awe. And in me you inspired something much greater than that. In all my years, which are so few compared to yours, nothing has so inspired love in me, as you. It has been my life’s greatest blessing.

When this letter comes to you, regardless of how it comes, it means I am gone from this world. I fear it shall indeed be soon, but I do not fear death. Weep not for me, my friend, instead let me bury in this parchment what there is left for me to say.

More than forty years ago I asked you to come away with me. All these decades later I still dream that you would, yet, I understand why you did not, and why you pushed me away. I offered you my heart that day, but it was the heart of a being you would watch wither away, as I’ll admit I have done. You could not be my forever, knowing that I cannot also be yours. There is no apology, no tears, no explanation needed there. 

Indeed, even for casting me away I need no words, and you have always had few to give, my friend. You didn’t keep me away for long, after all. I am like a magnet, drawn to you. Even now I feel your pull, like the tide to the gentle lady moon, but I cannot follow. 

After the mountain we met up again and again, our lives orbiting eachvother like planets, but we never clung so close as those first twenty years. That is the fault of Dame Time, a tricky mistress, as she collected her dues for twenty years of hard travel and ill care on my body.

I wish I could have given you more of my years. I find I am angry, and yet not so. At once, I could have had more time beside you, had somehow things been otherwise, but I know I had more time with you than might have been, perhaps more than I could reasonably expect. Someone, some goddess, or Life, Time, Destiny, or Fate, gave me enough time to finish the masterpiece that is my love for you, and that is enough.

You read here the ramblings of an old man, but I shall burden you with a few more sentences. 

You may recognize the case to which this letter is attached. Inside is my lute, as given to me by Filavandrel. I wish you to have it. I know you have never been musically inclined, but to me this instrument means so much more than music. This is the physical being of us, and all that may entail. I hope that you keep it, and treasure it how you will. If ever there comes such a person that you wish to play it, for whatever reason, gift it to them, but I beg you, tell them to whom it belonged, and how it came to belong to you. 

And finally, I leave you with a few unsung verses that I feel someone ought to read.

To the edge of the world May this letter be born That it comfort and heals you Although it brings you to mourn

I wrote every song And traveled along For my faith in a witcher and my friend before all

I hope you be blessed and continue your quest To be a friend of humanity As I go to rest

That's our epic tale My champion prevailed Defeated every villain And continues the tale

Toss a coin to my witcher, O valley of plenty...

love, Jaskier.

Professor Pankratz carefully rolled up the parchment and slipped inside a waterproofed tube, tying it with a blue ribbon that would likely only be lost in the parcel’s travels. He did it anyway, then he trailed his fingers over the finest instrument he’d ever played. Hand tremors meant it had sat silent for many months, but he plucked a few, slightly out of tune strings in a familiar tune. Then he put Filavandrel’s lute away, slipping the note in it’s packaging into the outer pocket of the case.

There was a funny feeling, he felt as he sat back in his large desk chair, to completing your greatest work, but he knew at least one being would remember it forever. He took off his spectacles and leaned back in his chair, the fire in the grate convincing him to doze. His eyes slid shut, and Jaskier greeted eternity with open arms.

[misskikuwrites]

Take the Reins

n//s//f//w 18+ only!!

If you’re under 18 PLEASE DO NOT READ!!

Dylas/Frey (rune factory 4)

Based on Dylas’ Newlywed mode

-

"Bring it on! I'll let you take the reins any day."

It had been a simple quip, said with a beat of laughter without Dylas truly thinking about it. Frey shifted on their bed, sitting up with an intriguing smirk on her face.

"Oh, really?" Her voice dipped low and enchanting. A hum of warmth pooled in Dylas' belly as her lips pulled into a bewitching smile. "Well then, why wait?"

Frey leant over the top of Dylas, swinging a leg graceful so that she straddled him. She planted her hands on either side of his head and sank her weight right over his hips.

Dylas choked on a strangled gasp, his body crackling alive with a rush of burning heat that shot up and down his veins, his body, and curled darkly on his cheeks. His length throbbed beneath her weight.

"Wh-Wh-What are you-?!" He slapped a hand over his face, instinctively trying to hide his blush, his embarrassment, from the seductive woman leaning over him.

Frey took his hand, peeling it away from his face and pressing a slow kiss to the underside of his wrist.

"Just follow my lead," she said, her words hot against the skin of his wrist. Her eyes, dark and swirling with want, stole his breath away. He swallowed thickly, unable to choke a single word in reply.

Frey closed the tortuous distance between them, capturing his lips with a soft, slow kiss before she rolled her hips against his hardening length. The glorious sound Dylas crooned in his throat split the heady silence.

She pulled back slightly, dusting her lips lightly against his with an amused smile. "Did you just…?"

"N-No!" Dylas barked in protest. "Sh-Shut up!" His mind swam with heat and need and want, filling his lungs with gulps of thin air that didn't satisfy in the slightest.

Frey smirked and teased his bottom lip between hers. She shifted her weight, easing off the growing bulge in his pants to settle further down his thighs before sliding up again. Slower this time, slower and barely there. The slightest friction, a ghosting of her core up his aching length that made Dylas buck his hips to meet hers. He choked on a gruff, harsh groan in his throat.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that sounded almost like a-"

"D-Don't!" Dylas gasped when her tongue traced his bottom lip.

He grasped her thighs desperately, sinking his head back into the pillow with a needy whine. His lips parted with need and Frey obliged, delving her wet tongue into his mouth. She swallowed his moan. Pressed her lips firmly against his and melding them together with a passionate, dizzying kiss. His fingers dug into her thighs when she rolled her hips against his erection. Frey smiled into the kiss, curling her tongue around his before slowly pulling back and studying the sight beneath her.

Dylas was breathless and panting. Stunned and delightfully aroused with wide eyes and wet, kiss-swollen lips. A striking blush coloured his face a dark crimson, washing down his neck in a bloom of colour that disappeared beneath his collar. His pupils had blown wide and dark, a thin ring of gold remaining behind the haze of lust. He swallowed thickly, Frey following the movement, the bob of his throat, with a flutter of pride in her chest.

Gods above, he was a glorious sight.

Frey cupped Dylas' burning cheeks with her hands, her smile softening and amorous as she gazed down at him. His eyes flickered away and back again, struggling to meet hers.

"Oh, Dylas…" Frey sighed heavenly. She brushed her thumbs across his scorching cheeks as he shied his gaze away from her again. "There's so much I want to do to you…"

A breathless moan rumbled in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut as he shivered beneath her. His gasp brushed her lips as she swept a gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth. His lips trembled, quivering slightly, beneath the faint trace of her kiss.

"Do… whatever you want to me…" Dylas breathed in a sharp whisper, an honest, wanton gasp broken and fractured with need.

Frey continued her featherlight kisses, sliding her fingers down his cheeks to dust his jaw before trailing down the flushed skin of his neck. He twitched and shivered from the gentle caress, bringing a delighted smile to her face. She deftly undid his collar and began to work at removing his vest as she deepened the kiss once more. His pliant lips parted for her tongue and she began to unravel him with her kisses and her touches.

She ached to hear him moan again, to satisfy the throbbing need between her thighs. With a quick flip of her skirt, Frey shifted the fabric from between her legs so she could rock her clit firmer against his length. The friction of her clothed clitoris against his bulging erection made her moan into Dylas' mouth with a forceful kiss. She yanked his shirt off with desperate tugs, their teeth clacking in the process as she refused to break the sloppy dance of their lips and tongues. Their chests heaved together as Frey leant over him. Her knees dug into the mattress on either sides of his hips as she bucked harder, firmer, against his erection.

The sensation was dizzying. Electrifying and frantic with stolen gasps and moans as a throbbing pressure built and built in her core. Dylas' grip on her thighs tightened, pulling her harder against him with a sharp grunt that spilled into Frey's mouth.

Frey stopped. Stopped rocking her hips against him, stopped their messy, desperate kisses and withdrew her tongue from the depths of his mouth. Dylas gasped and panted breathlessly, staring up at her with a haze of confusion and lust clouding his golden eyes. For a moment, Frey almost gave in to the roaring desire in her blood to continue, to come against him here and now, and forced herself to still and catch her breath.

There was more she wanted to do than dry hump against Dylas until they both came. So much more.

Frey lifted her weight off Dylas' straining erection and an inebriated sigh, a desperate croon, left his throat. Her core throbbed and pooled with heat at that sound. It made her knees wobble as she tried to steady herself above him. Gods, he was so damn alluring.

Dylas' bare chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, a faint layer of sweat glistening on his skin. He blinked at her in a daze. She took the moment to swallow, to calm the lustful fog in her mind, and think through what she wanted. She met his eyes, studying his response as she placed her hands just below his shoulders, letting her fingers settle against his skin. He still blinked at her, confused and wanting.

It almost made her laugh.

A small giggle left her lips as she smiled and smoothed her fingers across his pecs.

"Wh-What?" Dylas flushed as she continued tracing the hard lines of his muscles with her fingers. The embarrassed sound, a sharp bark in the silence, filled a warm bubble in her chest.

"You're stunning," she sighed, sliding her hands down his abs and back up again slowly.

The muscles flexed beneath her touch, hard and smooth and warm. Faint scars littered his skin in lines of white that she purposely ignored. As much as she'd always professed to love them, to love every inch and surface of him, marred or not, Dylas still had a hard time comprehending that. Instead, Frey dusted her fingers down to the hard lines of his hips, thumbing the sharp angle of bone.

"Y-You…!" A single word broke on Dylas' tongue.

He always got like this, speechless and flustered, whenever his heart got the better of him. During nights or early mornings of passion, words would begin to fail him. Tongue twisted and strangled with gasps. His reactions to her touches, her words of love, never failed to send a ripple of heat through her veins. A shot of confidence, a torrent of desire, coursed through Frey and she stole a deep breath.

"There's something I'd like to try…" she said slowly and trailed her eyes up Dylas' body to meet his.

He swallowed, waiting for her to continue. She reached up and undid the ribbons from her hair, letting it fall down her back in long waves. The heavy rise and fall of Dylas' chest as he watched spurred her onward. She held the ribbons up in one hand.

"Can I… tie your hands up?" she asked with a coy tilt of her head, a bashful smile pursing her lips.

"Wh… What…? Why- Why would you-?" Dylas tensed, a curl of pink washing over his shoulders as his blush doubled in intensity.

"You said I could do whatever I wanted to you," she reminded him, and herself, to stop her confidence from fracturing. "I'll be gentle, I promise. It's just so I can have my way without your interference, that's all."

Otherwise, he might end up cutting this whole adventure short with those long, deft fingers of his. She wasn't about to have him push through her teasing before she got what she wanted. It was her time to have fun with him - her time to take his reins and enjoy herself.

Dylas cut his eyes away, turning his head to the side bashfully. "F-Fine… do what you want."

"Thanks, Dally." She pressed a slow kiss to the side of his lips, lingering so he could turn and accept it fully. "Just tell me if it's too much at any time and I'll stop, okay? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Frey climbed off him and sat on the edge of their bed by Dylas' head, taking his wrists and raising them above his head and setting them against the headboard. He glanced up at her as she worked, tying his wrists to the corner post of the bed with her white ribbons. She gave it a firm tug and nodded.

"How's that? Not too tight? Is it going to hold?"

Dylas tested the knots, pulling his wrists a few times. "It's… weird." He frowned in confusion, shifting his wrists as much as he could. "How did you come up with this?"

"Oh, I read it in a book." She smirked knowingly at him and climbed over his legs to settle on his thighs. "It's full of very interesting topics."

Dylas' jaw twitched, his fingers flexing behind his head. Frey's smile grew. It was working. A smug glimmer of confidence trickled into her veins as she smoothed her hands over Dylas' stomach, making his muscles flex. He watched her, pupils blowing wide and dark with desire. She felt almost giddy with power as she teased her fingers down the faint trail of hair beneath his navel, making his hips buck involuntarily. A sharp gasp hissed through his teeth as she traced the sensitive skin above the waistband of his pants. The bulge of his erection tented the fabric a few inches away.

Frey couldn't keep the delighted, giddy grin off her face at how reactive Dylas was to her touch. She leant forward, hovering over him to plant a delicate kiss on his lips. Her hands traced upwards in a slow dance of teasing fingers and light touches, feeling every twitch and shiver of his skin in a journey up his taught body, to the hard lines of his jaw and into his soft hair. She hummed gently against his mouth. Graced her teeth against his bottom lip and pulling lightly to make him gasp. His hips lifted off the mattress, bucking sharply against nothing but air as her hips settled high above his stomach.

Frey sank her tongue into Dylas' mouth in the same moment that she drew her hands up and cupped his soft ears. She swallowed his needy moan, drinking his cries and feeling them rumble into her mouth. She teased the outline of his ears with her finger and thumb, coaxing a whimper from Dylas' chest. He shuddered beneath her, the wooden post creaking as he tugged on the ribbons with each roll of his hips.

It filled Frey with dizzying warmth. She lapped at his tongue as his kisses turned desperate and hurried. A tangle of tongues and lips as he stole broken gasps whenever their lips parted. He lifted off his pillow to meet her kisses, to force them firmer and harder and deeper. Frey cupped his cheeks, relinquishing his ears from her tortuous ministrations, and slowed their kiss. She gave his tongue a final lick before pulling back completely.

Dylas sank onto the bed with harsh pants. His chest heaved, eyes struggling to open in a fuzzy haze of lust. He sucked in a sharp, tight breath when her hands reached his belt. The buck of his hips as her fingers worked off his belt made the corner of Frey's mouth lift in a smirk. Her heart thundered in her chest with pounding anticipation that echoed in her core. The whisper of his belt as she slipped it free was deafening. She tried not to focus on the obvious straining of his cock as she undid the button and zip of his pants. She tugged on the waistband of his pants and Dylas lifted his hips in compliance. With a swift yank, Frey pulled his pants and underwear off and discarded them to the side.

The sharp intake of air from Dylas made her chest swim with heat. He gaped at her, still fully clothed, as she settled on his thighs mere inches from his aching erection. He snapped his head to the side, avoiding her gaze. Unable to watch, though she saw the way he swallowed in anticipation. She kept her eyes on his face, watching intently, as she traced a single finger up the underside of his shaft.

Dylas' eyes squeezed shut, head sinking back into his pillow as a silent puff of air hissed through his teeth. His reaction was glorious. The way he clenched his jaw, brow furrowing and trembling as she caressed the length of his cock with the bare tips of her fingers. A barely there, featherlight touch, as soft as a gentle breeze, was enough to force a deep, guttural groan from Dylas' chest. The sound jolted right through Frey, straight to her core. She shifted slightly at the insistent, throbbing ache between her thighs.

Soon, she told herself, and swallowed. Very, very soon.

There was more she wanted to do.

Frey slid her fingers up Dylas' length to the tip, curling her fingers around the head of his cock and twisting her wrist gently.

"Hnng…!" Wood creaked as Dylas bucked his hips sharply into her hand. His mouth dropped open, eyes still forced shut as he refused to look at her. Each breath he took was loud and heavy through clenched teeth.

Frey repeated the motion of her wrist, drawing another long groan from Dylas. The sounds he made were low and deep, like a rumble of thunder in his chest that shot lightning through her veins. Frey curled her other hand around the base of his cock and worked him slowly as beads of precum leaked from the tip. She swiped her thumb over his tip, collecting the thick liquid and smoothing it down his length with a slow pump of her hand.

The strangled groan Dylas made sounded suspiciously like her name. He still wasn't looking at her.

"Dally," Frey called sweetly. "You're missing the show."

He grunted sharply in reply, turning his face harder into the pillow. His whole face was flushed with a heat that trickled down across his chest in a furious wash of crimson. It was beautiful.

"Your loss," Frey hummed.

She took her right hand away from his length, continuing to trace her fingers up and down with her left, and watched Dylas' face as she moved to plant her lips on the side of his cock.

His eyes stole open with a strangled gasp of disbelief and pleasure, a moan and a protest in a single sound. Frey blinked at him demurely, pressing the side of his erection against her pert lips. A balked sound escaped him as she began to kiss his length, moving her soft, warm lips against his burning skin. His chest heaved in panic, in lust, and Frey saw a torrent of emotions crash behind his eyes as he stared owlishly at her. She kept her eyes fixed on his, meeting his gaze, and slid her tongue up his shaft.

"F-Fuck…!" Dylas cried with a ripple of sharp bucks of his hips in pleasure. He groaned through his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

Frey almost stopped in disbelief, her tongue pressed firmly to his throbbing length, before she caught herself and continued. She hadn't expected that kind of reaction, the loud groan he'd made stealing the air from her lungs. She ached like never before, her core throbbing as hard, as deafening as her heart.

Who knew Dylas could sound like that?

Frey lifted her mouth off Dylas' length, sitting up on his thighs again to catch her breath. A low moan of protest escaped his lungs as she took her hand away and stood. She worked quickly at her dress, dropping it to the floor before taking off her bra and panties as well. She turned back to Dylas, saw him staring, mouth agape.

A spike of heat jolted down her spine as Dylas drank in her naked body, swallowing thickly as she nestled over his thighs again.

"How are you feeling?" Frey asked softly, giving him a gentle smile. "Was that okay?"

Dylas blinked. His mouth opened and shut a few times in stunned silence. Frey giggled at how speechless he was, making Dylas grumble in his chest.

"Should I take that as a positive?" she teased, tracing her fingers up the outside of his thighs.

"You… you're impossible…" Dylas managed to choke out. "Of course it… was okay…"

"Just okay?" She tilted her head with a knowing smile. "You made all those glorious sounds and it was just okay?"

"Sh-Shut up…!"

"Well, maybe we should stop then, if it's not that good for you…" Frey made to move off his lap and Dylas jumped slightly.

"No, don't!"

"Oh?"

Dylas flustered under her gaze, pursing his lips firmly as he struggled to meet her eyes. "Gods, Frey, it… you felt so good, I… I need… I don't want you to stop…"

Good enough.

"I don't want to stop either," she sighed dreamily and splayed her hands across his chest as she shifted higher, shifted so that she hovered right over his length.

Dylas tensed beneath her, his muscles going taut and hard under her fingers. She angles her hips forward and pressed her core against the length of Dylas' aching cock. Slowly, she slid her clitoris up his length, pressing firmly against him.

Dylas' groan echoed her own at the wondrous pressure against her throbbing clit. Frey sank down onto him so that his cock pressed against his stomach and she could rock her clit on his length. She rolled her hips, body shuddering with pleasure at the sensation. He was so hot and hard and perfect, it felt so good that Frey sighed a desperate moan as she dragged her soaking core up his length and drenched him in her fluid.

"Mm, Dally…!" Frey moaned, her eyes fluttering shut in absolute pleasure.

She teased herself against his length, revelling in the heat of his erection, in the pressure of his cock between her folds as she nuzzled her clitoris on his tip with sharp rolls of her hips. Her body was electric, blood pulsing and burning. She undulated her hips again and again as a coil of heat and pleasure tightened in her core. She soaked Dylas' cock, their hips rocking together with slick, sloppy movements and gasps.

Frey managed to catch herself before she succumbed to that feeling and lifted herself off Dylas' stomach. He whined in a desperate, pleading breath before she took his length in her hand and angled him towards her entrance.

"Dylas, I… I need, I need you…!" Frey said with broken gasps. She gripped his hip for purchase, her thighs trembling and aching to sink onto him. To take him completely, to have him fill her up until she couldn't take anymore.

Gods, she wanted him inside her right now.

"Yes…!" Dylas groaned and it was all Frey needed to lower herself onto him.

Frey gasped as he entered her, stretching her walls and filling her slowly, achingly slowly, until her hips sank onto his. She throbbed around him. Twitched and clenched at the sensation of being filled, the clamping of her walls making Dylas moan. He filled her so easily, she was so wet and aroused that there had been no resistance at all and it felt so good, too good, and Frey rolled her hips instinctively.

Dylas grunted as she began to move, his hips rolling with her. The creaking of the wooden post his hands were tied to was lost beneath their moans. Dylas bucked, desperate for more friction, and Frey obliged, lifting slightly off him and sinking down again. They rocked together, their hips meeting with slick, sloppy sounds and movements, Dylas thrusting up to meet her every time. He drove deep inside her and when Frey sank forward slightly to kiss him, his next thrust hit that perfect spot inside her walls that made her see stars. She latched onto his hair, her fingers winding into his soft hair as she kissed him desperately, needy and aching as she rocked in time with his thrusts. She slid a hand between their bodies to roll her clit as she felt a hot coil tighten and tighten in her belly, hot and throbbing and aching, Gods it ached.

Something tore. Hands grabbed Frey's hips and pulled her harder, firmer onto Dylas as his hips pistoned to meet her. He hugged her tight, pulling her flush against him with sharper, faster thrusts as he pounded into her with a newfound need, a newfound desperation and intensity. Frey moaned into his mouth, swallowing his gasps and groans, and the coil snapped inside her, releasing a torrent of pleasure through her body. Her walls convulsed and clamped around him as she rocked desperately through her orgasm. She cried his name, a loud, shuddering cry as she came around him and Dylas unravelled. He threw his head back with a heavy moan and snapped his hips quickly against hers as he came. He spilled inside her with a few sharp thrusts as she rolled out the remaining sparks of her orgasm around him.

Frey twitched around his length as he sank, boneless beneath her. Her core throbbed, sensitive and still reactive from her orgasm. With wobbly legs and weak arms, Frey drew herself off Dylas. His softening length slid out of her, coated thick in his cum and her juices. Frey flushed as she felt it leak from her, dripping between her thighs, and crawled off Dylas to lie on the bed beside him as they caught their breath.

Their heavy breathing filled the silence. Frey glanced towards Dylas and he shifted, standing from the bed with a wobbly step. Frey stifled her grin and watched him retrieved the tissue box from her cupboard, cleaning himself up before handing it to her. He didn't meet her eyes.

Frey cleaned herself, tossing the tissues in the bin, before it dawned on her.

"You broke my ribbons!" she gasped, staring at the tattered remains tied around the corner of their bed.

Dylas winced. "O-Oh. Sorry…"

His expression dropped and Frey sat beside him, taking his hand.

"It's okay. Forget about the ribbons." She smiles softly at him and he nodded slowly. "They're a small sacrifice to make for what we just did."

A blush crawled up his cheeks, making Frey laugh.

"Who would've thought that you'd enjoy that so much… although, it makes sense."

He raised a confused eyebrow at her.

"Well, you seem to enjoy being ridden like a-"

"D-Don't you dare!" Dylas balked, flushing darkly.

"What? It's true-!"

"Sh-Shut up! That's…! That's got nothing to do with anything…!"

Frey laughed and laughed. Her heart felt full and warm and she wrapped Dylas up in a hug as she laughed. He mumbled a protest but settled into her arms, nuzzling his face into her shoulder.

"I love you, Dally," she said, sighing into their embrace.

He softened in her arms. Whispered quietly, softly, into her ear. "I love you too…"

[milkcartonbastard]

Wide Eyes

Fandom and Pairing- The Outsiders (Johnny X Dally and background Steve X Soda.)

Notes- The setting is modern times. I use the word 'Fae' as the plural form of Fairy. This was a request and I know I haven't been taking them for this fandom, but it was a lot and I was blown away.

This is a Mythical Creature AU that I am living for.

Warnings- Johnny's home abuse and attempted murder. As well as Dally's New York experience. There's violence towards the end. Language warning too. Leave comments, please. I love hearing from you all.

~~~

  The fan hanging from the ceiling of the Curtis living room hummed loudly in the gang's ears. There was a frequent swishing sound coming from Two-Bit flicking his switch blade around, his eyes locked on the black television screen. The gang was getting restless and sweating profusely. It was the end of Spring and it was already one of the hottest Summer's in Tulsa. Which was fitting, because the Curtis brother's were behind on their bills, causing their power to be cut off. Darry had the money to pay the bill, which had been doubled in order to be reactivated, but had to wait until Monday when the City Court House was open and accepting over-due payments.

  Steve had been generous enough to use his abilities to hook up a system that caused the fan to move without electricity. But it was slow and just moved the hot-air around and caused the sweat-fall to worsen. Steve was good at things like that, but that was his gift after all. Steve's mother was a witch and had passed her genes down to him. He had a natural sway- one that didn't require spells, of course he could still do those too- over fire and mechanics, which was fortunate considering the only place that would hire him was the DX down the road from his place. He worked on cars during the hottest parts of the day and then came home at night to relax. But it was never very relaxing, considering his step-dad was a piece of shit and always trying to push him around and control his life. He was a warlock, like Steve, but his power must have been bitterness, because Steve had never seen him do anything useful in his life.

  Steve's magic was pretty superior to other warlocks he knew, which was not many, at least that's what he believed. He knew of his step-dad, some prick at school who loved to make strong breezes blow girl's skirts up, and Johnny Cade. Johnny kept his powers more concealed than Steve had ever been able to. He'd only seen Johnny use his abilities once and it was against some psycho who had flicked his knife out at the gang. If it hadn't been an emergency- also a situation where the Curtis brothers weren't there- he would have been sure Johnny still wouldn't have used them. It was an incredibly strange thing to see, which said a lot considering Steve had know the Curtis brothers his entire life. Johnny's black colored eyes expanded until you could no longer see any of the whites of his eyes and his voice sounded like it was under water.

  "Sleep." Johnny had gently placed his hands on either side of the man's greasy face and then the man had fallen unconscious as soon as the word's left Johnny's lips. Steve had known Johnny was a warlock, but seeing that had just shocked him as much as not knowing would have. Two-Bit had been there with them and had told the rest of the gang about it as soon as he'd seen them again, changing his face and acting it out for the Curtis brothers, who were having an 'inside' night. Everyone had patted Johnny on the back and told him he'd done a good job. He'd smiled only slightly, but his rosy cheeks gave away how thrilled he was.

  "Alright. Fuck this. It's hotter in here than it is outside! Surely we can find something to do outside." Two-Bit whined and stood up. He pulled his chuck's on and laced them up. Nobody moved to stand up or put their own Converse on.

  "I don't know, Two. It's hot and I've heard some rumor's going around about some Hunter's in the area. Maybe we should just stay in and lay low." Darry said. At the mention of Creature Hunter's, Pony's eyes left the homework he was doing off to the side and flickered across his oldest brother's face. Their parents had been caught a couple years back and had been terminated, which had prompted Darry to raise his brothers and the three other boys since. The Hunters had never gotten a possible ID match, which meant their parent's bodies had been too mangled to identify. That was a good thing- an impossibly horrifying thing- because that meant the three Curtis brothers were safe. For now.

  Two-Bit sighed heavily, his knees buckling to the floor in front of the oldest boy's feet. He pressed his palms and fingers together, his bottom lip jutting out and quivering slightly, begging Darry for some freedom. "But it's so nice out. We can go play in the park and you can chase all the cars you want. Please? You can't say no to this face."

  "Yes, I can. No, Two-Bit." Darry stated firmly. He leaned back in his recliner, his shirt soaked in sweat. Two-Bit groaned and thought for a second. A split second later, he stood up and his face had changed. Barack Obama was now standing in the Curtis house. He smiled charmingly at Darry and fixed the tie that was laying perfectly with his navy blue suit.

  "Well. Certainly we can work something out. Come now, the President of the United States Of America has decided we are going to the park." Barack Obama fixed his cuff-links as he strolled to the door. Johnny was quick to shut the door, kicking the bottom while sitting on the floor nearby. Johnny would hate for someone walking by the house to see the President looking through the screen door. Obama stopped in his tracks and suddenly the Shift was gone. Two-Bit stood with a defeated look on his face.

   "What if we all just go out and grab a bite to eat. If we open your fridge with all this heat, who knows what will happen?" Two-Bit was deflating, already going to take his shoes off.

  "Fine. We'll go out for a little. But no Shifting, no magic, and no wolfing out. 'Hershey bars' is the code if you see anything suspicious or if something happens. You all know the drill." Darry grabbed his shoes and Soda hopped off the couch and went to grab a shirt. Two-Bit fist punched the air as they all got ready. It was around 6pm and he was ready for some fun. Of course, the Dairy Queen wouldn't be a blast, but he knew milkshakes would be involved.

  Pony flipped his Calculus book closed and grabbed his shoes out from underneath the couch. The ceiling fan came to a complete stop, Steve's magic had stopped working and his red eyes faded back to their whisky brown. Soda came sauntering in, wearing one of Steve's cut up thrift store shirts. It had been carelessly cast onto the floor earlier when he and Steve had disappeared into his room. Pony was very glad that he'd decided to get his own space and move out of his brother's room, cause he was sure he would have had to change his sheets.

  Steve and Soda stood by the door with Johnny and Two-Bit. Pony stood up and brushed the cookie crumbs off his pants. Darry was tying his boots up and everyone waited patiently by the door. Soon enough, Darry was shutting the door to the house and they were piling into the Curtis's beat up red truck. Two-Bit got shotgun, and since it was a stick shift and Darry couldn't change gears without hitting the knees of whoever sat between him and Two, the other four boys piled into bed.

  By the time they got to Dairy Queen, the boys were no longer sweating and their damp of their clothes had dried. Pony and Johnny were sat crisscross beside each other and talking amongst themselves. Steve was sitting with his back against the cab window and Soda was laid in his lap, staring up at the clothes and pointing every now and then as they drove.

  Johnny felt a strange twisting in his gut. Steve's fingers were carding through Soda's wheat-gold hair. Steve wasn't looking up at the sky, only at Soda's pretty face. Johnny wanted that. He wanted someone to stare at him like he was the stars. Like he was the only beautiful thing in the world to them. He'd used to like Ponyboy, then he'd gained a small crush on a girl up the street- Malia Smith was pretty, but her personality was like pouring salt in an open wound- and then he'd ignored his feelings for anyone until they had all just faded away. Pony was nothing more than a really good best friend and Johnny had decided he'd wanted it no other way.

  "What kinda milkshake do you want? I feel like it's a strawberry kinda day for me." Pony said. Johnny felt a smile spread across his face. He only loved one type of milkshake from Dairy Queen and everyone knew that. Pony's face twisted up. "Peanut butter, again? Gross."

  "It's delicious, thank you very much. One day you're going to be in a peanut butter mood and you're going to be telling me how wrong you were all these years." Johnny's face got hot and he laughed softly. "Whenever you concur your peanut allergy, that is."

  Johnny and Pony both started laughing hysterically. Two-Bit heard this, which prompted him to unbuckle his seat belt and open the beer-window. He asked the two what was so funny. It took a full minute before either boy was able to compose themselves enough to answer him.

  "Pony's the only werewolf I know wuh-who is allergic to peanuts." Johnny felt laughter bubble up inside of him again and then the silent laughter fit took over. Two-Bit snorted and watched the two teens.

  "Yeah! I thought dogs were supposed to like peanut butter! What a-" Two-Bit was being dragged back into the cab and hit in the back of the head by Darry. Two-Bit cackled and just like that, the family was pulling into Dairy Queen and parking. It was almost empty, save for a few people at the drive-in and a couple people getting carry out orders. Darry led his motley crew of creatures into the restaurant. They all got milkshakes, minus Soda who decided he wanted a cookie dough blizzard instead. They payed and went outside to hang around at the tables. They laughed and swapped shakes occasionally. Nobody but Darry drank any of Johnny's peanut butter shake, meanwhile Soda wouldn't share his blizzard with anyone but Steve.

  "Well if it isn't my favorite mutt. How ya been Horseman?" Curly Shepard hopped the little neat gate around the outside eating area. He clapped his hand on Pony's shoulder and stole a sip of his milkshake.

  "Sweaty. What about you?" Pony snatched his shake back and Curly grabbed a nearby chair. He spun it around and sat with the chair back against his stomach.

  "Fan-fucking-tastic. I found this awesome hangout for ya know- people like us- and figured y'all could use a new club-house since yours no longer has air-conditioning." Curly grinned lopsidedly. His dark eyes stuck out against his pale-white face. His curly black hair was getting shaggy now, almost as long as Pony's. But Pony had tied his back in a small bun today, since it was too hot to have that mess in his face.

  "Sounds shady. Any Hunter could waltz in at anytime. That's a trap with a beacon attached." Darry shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. His muscles jutted out of his tank top, causing him to look a lot more defined than usual. The tan that he'd gotten a week earlier was helping too.

  "Nah, this cat had a glamour Cast on the place. Only our kind can really see the place. It makes normal eyes just glide over it. A Hunter's worst nightmare. I'm heading down there right now. All kinds and species are welcome. Come with. All y'all." With that Curly stood up and pushed his chair back where it came from.

  "Who is this guy? He could be a Hunter for all we know." Steve had his arms crossed too. Pony glanced over and noticed Johnny's closed eyes. What was he doing?

  "Show up and find out." Curly started to walk away, grinning widely, but that grin faltered quickly and he stopped moving. He walked closer to the table and started to speak again. It sounded like words were being pulled from his body.

  "His name's Buck Merril, he's an Elf and part of a sm- small resistance. His goal is to get a bunch of our kuh-kind together and let us interact. He thinks it'll make us all stronger if anything ever happens in Tulsa and - ugh, what the fuck!- and we'll know each other good enough to want to stand together." Curly's mouth snapped closed and he was breathing hard, his cheeks puffing in and out. His mouth opened, he snapped it shut, then it opened again. "Other than that he just wants to party."

  Just like that, whatever was pulling the information from him stopped and his body relaxed. Curly cleared his throat and shook his head, like he was shaking an intrusive thought away. "The club is on the East side, in the middle of Blossom Street. Can't miss it, it's got a Elvish symbol carved on the door. Only we can see it. See ya fuckers there."

  Curly finally left that time and the table was dumbfounded. Two-Bit was the first one to speak up. His poster was loose and he had a giant smile on his face, but his grey eyes were stormy. "Anybody want to go for a Hershey bar? There's some good ones down the street."

   "That was me. No chocolate needed." Johnny whispered. Soda's head snapped around, a look of amazement on his face.

  "What did you do to him? He looked like he was going to shit himself!" Soda's mouth tugged into a smile and Steve snorted.

  "I just made him give us some more information. It didn't hurt him, it's just that he was fighting back a little. Happens." Johnny sunk down in his chair and slurped his milkshake. His face was a little bit rosy, but it wasn't the sun. He'd used his powers for the first time in a while, which shocked both him and the others.

  "Alright, well, I am willing to bet my fur that 'Buck's' place has air-conditioning. I say we check it out." Soda sat his empty blizzard cup down on the table. Steve rested his arm across Soda's shoulder and nodded along. Darry worried his bottom lip and looked at the other three. They all shrugged and nodded their heads.

  "Alright then. Codeword is the same and so are the rules. If we don't want to go back after tonight, we do have to. We'll just check the place out." Darry stood up and gathered his trash. They all threw away their garbage and loaded the truck up. They picked up Curly on their way, since he was trying to walk in the heat. Curly had his head stuck through the beer-window and was giving Darry directions.

~~~~

  When they arrived at Buck's, they were immediately caught off-guard. The place was crunched between to shabby looking houses and was... kind of crooked. From the way Curly was talking about the place, it was a mansion with golden windows and door-handles. None of them had expected this run-down bar to be the destination. Curly clapped his hands down on Darry and Two-Bit's shoulders.

  "It only gets better from here. Let's go, boy!" Curly ruffled Darry's hair and pointed at the building. Darry smacked his hand away. Annoyance clearly on his face.

  "Once more wolf joke and I swear-"

  "You'll what? Bite me?" Curly yanked his head out of the cab before Darry could do anything. The gang unloaded and followed Curly Shepard to the door. He placed his hand over the Elvish symbol on wooden surface and the door swung open, letting them in. The place looked like shit from the outside looking in. As soon as they had crossed under the doorframe though, everything blurred with movement.

  The 10ft by 10ft room with dusty walls and shitty looking bar tables changed. The room was giant now, stretching way open like a high school gymnasium. Large chandeliers, dripping crystals, hung a good 15 foot off the floor in replacement of the one naked lightbulb that had been there. The cracked tiled floor became marble and perfect. There wasn't a speck of dirt on the shiny floor and the gang wasn't prepared to see people appear out of nowhere. Soon the music reached their ears and they noticed all the people dancing. All the Creatures dancing.

  "Holy shit." The entire gang's mouths were hanging open. Curly had changed along with the room. He had two, dark, ruby, colored horns poking out of his messy curls and bending backwards. His demonic features were showing and Darry almost panicked. Curly's cheek bones were jutted out and looked like they could cut someone. His tongue was forked and he had dark fingernails. He gestured to the room and grinned at the six of them.

  "Welcome to Paradise. All Glamors and magic disguises get removed at the door- since we're free to be ourselves here. Buck will probably come and introduce himself to you all." A girl came sashaying out of a section of people. She was all curves and long, white, hair. She had a set of shimmering, butterfly looking wings, sprouting from her back and pink tattoos wrapping her exposed, chocolate colored, skin. She wrapped her fingers around Curly's horns and tugged him down to kiss aggressively. She was pulling him into the crowd and he was wrapping his hands around her waist. He struggled out a 'behave' before disappearing completely.

  "Are we going to get a welcoming like that?" Two asked, incredulously. He laughed, smacked Darry in the chest with the back of his hand, and disappeared into the crowd. Darry rolled his eyes.

  "We can split up if you want. I think- I think we'll be okay here." With that, Darry disappeared into the crowd of people too. Steve and Soda coupled off and started dancing along with the other groups of people. Pony and Johnny stayed together.

  "No offense, but if a Pixie grabs me too, you can count me as good as gone." Pony shouted over the music. They were making their way through the crowd, looking around. Johnny laughed softly, no sound so much as his shoulders moving up and down.

  "I'll probably just awkwardly stand next to you two." Johnny really laughed as Pony's cheeks and the tops of his ears went red. Something solid collided with Johnny and he stumbled backwards. The literal troll that he had bumped into caught his arm and steadied him.

  "Sorry, I wasn't watching wear I was going. My bad," Johnny looked up at seven or eight foot troll. His skin was a mossy, green color and was like thick hide, sort of like a pig. He had two large teeth poking out of his mouth. They were a pearly white color, like the whites of his eyes. His iris's were a pale yellow. He waved Johnny off.

  "Happens all the time, kid. Your first time here?" He asked. Johnny nodded and the troll gave him a smile. "Well, my name's Phillip. Nice to meet you, kid. What are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

  "Warlock. My name's Johnny, by the way."

  "Well, Johnny, my advice to you is to hit up the pool. The merfolk love to be in the company of warlock's. They're pretty friendly, if you get my flow. Have fun, Johnny." Phillip took a big swig of his cup- which looked more like a bowl- and left Johnny alone. Johnny stood in the middle of the room, looking around at all the different creatures. He could see centaurs, trolls, goblins, Fairy folk (Fae), Elves, and some he couldn't even name. He felt a rush of excitement fall over him. He went to hit Ponyboy's arm in excitement, but realized he must have been washed away in the sea of people. Johnny didn't feel anxious to be without one of his friends. After all, he had no reason to be scared right now.

  Johnny was in a building full of people just like him. He wasn't in school surrounded by normal kids. He was in a room full of people like him, which meant he was the new normal. For the first time in his life, Johnny thought about the fact that here, he wasn't a freak. He was normal- he was himself. Johnny felt his muscles loosen up and he began to move through the crowd again.

  For the first time that night, he noticed that little lanterns and tiny houses were strung up on the ceiling. If he looked close enough, he could see Pixies- which were in their normal form, that was roughly the size of a dragonfly- flying around and going in and out of the houses. If he listened hard enough, he could almost hear the soft buzzing sound their wings made- sort of like a hummingbird's wings.

  "Hi, there. Who might you be?" A sweet voice brought his thoughts back to the ground and not to the tiny village floating above him. The voice belonged to a very attractive Fairy. She didn't have any wings, but he still knew she what she was. She was gorgeous and had fire red hair. Gold markings were beside her emerald eyes and she smelled like lavender. She giggled when she caught Johnny staring. She wet her bottom lip and grabbed Johnny's hand. She started dragging him forwards. He followed, absolutely dumbstruck that anything as beautiful as her would even look at him.

  When they broke out of the crowd, she pulled him into another nearby room, which Johnny was shocked to see. This place was even bigger than he'd originally thought. Wow.

  The look of this room was far different than the room in the front. There was wallpaper with little naked Cherub babies on it and clouds with naked men and women sitting atop of them. The floor was grassy and he could hear a stream trickling from rock to rock. The grass looked real and Johnny was almost positive it was. The ceiling looked like the starry, night, sky. Johnny could pick out Jupiter and its moons, but that was about it. More Fae and Pixies were sitting in the room, at the base of trees and in the knee-high grass. Johnny saw Two-Bit was off in the corner, telling jokes and shapeshifting as he told the story. One second he was Elvis, then the next he was Kim Kardashian and Johnny was clueless as to how those two people were interactable.

  The Fairy girl was still pulling Johnny along. She looked as though she was headed to the big tree in the back of the room, by the wall. The tree had a hole in it, which a pearly liquid was dripping steadily from. There were Fae and an Elf or two sitting around that tree. They were all beautiful and despite Johnny feeling like he wasn't a freak in this place, he started feeling very self-conscious.

  "Drink with us." The girl dipped a piece of bowl shaped piece of bark into the liquid and held it out to Johnny. "You just look so lonely."

  Johnny thought about that story, Tuck Everlasting, that he'd had to read in 5th grade. But that Fountain of Youth and Immortality had come from a spring in the ground, not a nut-hole in a tree. The girl giggled, which sounded high-pitched and like wind-chimes. A male Fairy with brown and white feathery wings started to run his fingers through Johnny's hair and giggled too. Surely one drink wouldn't be so bad? If he didn't like it, he wouldn't drink any more of it.

  Johnny gently took the bark-bowl from her and went to put it to his lips. Before he had time to, it was being jerked from his grasp and thrown into the little lake of pearly liquid at the base of the tree. Before Johnny knew what was going on, an arm was around his shoulder and he was being led away from the tree and the people there.

  They were all laughing and giggling hysterically. Johnny felt a clarity, he didn't know he had lost, return to his mind and he turned back around to look at them. They were not Fae, nor were they Elves. They were Dark Pixies, standing there with scarred and torn dragonfly wings. They were not nearly as beautiful as Johnny had believed either, which made his gut clench. He was a Warlock with the ability of illusions and mind control. How was he not able to realize somebody was literally using powers like his own against him? Shame knotted up in his gut.

  "Dark Pixies are trouble makers. All of them. I'd give them a piece of my mind if I really thought it would do any good. They're just so damn- pesky." The person leading him away from the Pixies was talking, but Johnny hadn't realized that there was a person leading him away. When he finally caught back up in the situation, Johnny's eyes wondered over to try and see who had knocked the drink- if there even was a drink- away from his lips.

  Johnny had not been prepared, at all, to see the most beautiful guy he'd ever seen to be beside him. He was obviously a Fairy, since Johnny could see his pointed ears poking out from underneath his shaggy white hair and some Fairy tattoos circling his left wrist and disappearing at his forearm. He had the iciest  blue eyes that Johnny had ever seen.

  Even with those couple features, it should have been impossible for any more of him to be attractive, but his cheek and jaw bones were chiseled and hard. If he stood still for a long period of time- Johnny was sure he could pass for the most gorgeous work of art to ever exist. Just like before, Johnny felt the need to curl in on himself.

  "What kind of non-Fae, moron, are you? Didn't your parents every teach you about Fairy Drink?" The guy stopped guiding the two of them when they reached a kitchen-esque area. Food was piled high- like there was a catering job going on. The Fairy fixed his blazing eyes on Johnny and he felt breathless.

  "Uh-well- I... no. What's a Fairy Drink?" Johnny felt his face get hot. The Fairy's eyes softened a little, but only for a millisecond.

  "It can only be ingested by Fae and Fae alone. Anyone else, even the strongest of Pixies and whatever the fuck else, either goes insane or dies. Most of the time both." Johnny's throat went dry. Those Pixies were trying to kill him? What did he ever do to them? Johnny had never met any other Creatures beside the ones in the gang and the Shepard family. Were they just plain old bullies, or did they have a grudge against warlocks in particular? Certainly that couldn't have been it. They didn't know Johnny was a warlock. He could have been a vampire, werewolf, or even a wendigo for all they knew.

  "I can clearly see you overthinking this, Kid. Don't take it personal. Those assholes feed off of mischief and, apparently, attempted murder." The guy crossed his arms over his chest and heat flared in Johnny's stomach. He had toned arms, sort of like the in-between stage of Steve and Soda. Johnny offered a weak smile.

  "Thanks for helping me out back there. I'm Johnny Cade." Johnny stuck his hand out to the taller of the two. A large grin appeared on his face.

  "Johnny Cake?" He chuckled softly. Before Johnny could correct him, he had clapped their hands together. "Well, Johnny Cake, I'm Dallas Winston. You can call me Dally, since I did save your life."

  Dallas tossed his arm over Johnny's shoulder and led him toward the giant refrigerator. He opened the door and motioned to all kinds of drinks. "What's your poison? Animal blood, human blood, lactose free milk- whatever the hell that is-, or some actual poison?"

  "Water is fine. But, thanks." Johnny swiped a water-bottle and cracked the seal. He took a few drinks to unclog his throat. Dally leaned back against a counter. He was looking at Johnny with a curious gaze, something Johnny fidgeted heavily under. He could feel those blue eyes trailing over the puffy scar on his cheek. His father had given him that. He'd slung a glass cup across the room, sending it splintering and cutting across his ten year old's face. He hadn't meant to, Johnny had thought then and still believed. He was drunk and had no idea he could actually hit his only son. Surely.

  "Alright, Johnny Cake. Help me put together the puzzle on what kind of Creature you are. Vampires would never turn down blood and I highly doubt you're a werewolf. If you were, of course, that scar on your cheek would never have happened. It would have just healed. Of course, you could let it scar over if you were a werewolf, but most don't. Even then, you wouldn't have such dark circles under your eyes. Werewolves sleep like the dead." Dally's crossed arms flexed a little.

  "I'm a warlock."

  "Really? And if I were to say I don't believe you?" There was a mischievous glint in Dally's eyes. He wanted Johnny to show him his powers. Johnny nibbled at his bottom lip. He had never shown his power off to anyone before. Not even Ponyboy, who had been his best friend for many years. Was he really going to show an almost-stranger his powers because he was cute?

  Yeah. Sounded about right.

  Johnny closed his eyes- a habit he had when he did use his magic- and held his left fist up. He felt the gentle sensation of his magic wrap around his chest. It felt sort of like someone was hugging him softly, which is a reason he used it when he felt scared or lonely. The magic made him feel like someone was there with him.

  He felt a fluttering in his hand and he opened his eyes to see if he had made the right thing. Sure enough, when he opened his fist, a white butterfly with the same dark purple markings that Dally had was fluttering into the air. Dally's hand shot out and grabbed it. When he opened his own palm up, a little sticker with the words 'Good Job!' was all that was there. A lopsided grin spread across his face.

  "Cool trick. Your parents teach you that one?" He asked. Johnny opened his mouth to tell Dallas that his parents were both normal and despised anything that wasn't human, but he opted to just mention that he learned it himself. Dally's eyes flickered up to Johnny's and he saw the surprise in those icy irises.

  Dallas moved forward and cupped Johnny's face gently. The pad of his thumb was rough as he ran it over Johnny's right cheek- the one without a scar- and made gooseflesh rise to his skin.

  "Your eyes don't look like any other warlock's I know. Usually the color changes, but I've never seen fully black eyes. The whites just completely disappear... which parent did you say had magic?"

  "Oh, uh, my paren-"

  "Let's go, Johnny. It's late and we all got to get back." Steve and Soda had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, which made Johnny jump. Dallas let his hand fall and had backed up. Soda's eyes narrowed slightly, but he hid that before the Fairy could see.

  "See you next time, Johnny Cake. Watch out for those pesky little shits." Dally pushed himself off the counter he had immediately gone to lean on and started to walk off. He turned around to eye Sodapop for a second, which Johnny could tell Steve did not enjoy. "All the food here is free to take with you. The third shelf has plenty of protein for those... rough nights."

  As soon as Dally left the room, Soda was eyeing the fridge like it was a party trick. Johnny opened the fridge and grabbed a pack of soft, pink, meat. He tossed it in Soda's direction and Soda tucked it under his arm. Tonight was one of those nights, in about an hour and the Curtis brothers had to be home.

  Usually on their transformation nights, one of the gang wouldn't stay at the house and make sure all three of them stayed in the basement. Steve was going tonight, since it was his old man's birthday and he didn't want to be at his own place. Johnny was tempted to stay and go find Dallas, but he knew that the heat of walking home would suck, even in the dark. He joined Steve and Soda and they went to get the others.

~~~~

  In the couple months since the gang had discovered the Haven that was Buck Merril's, they had been back more times than they could count. It was something about the pulsing of the music and the way they were free to look and act like themselves was the most freeing thing they had ever experienced. Two-Bit had made a dozen of friends and he'd gotten on Buck's good side.

  Buck Merril was one of the few Elves that resided at the club. He'd come from New York with one of his kid-friends. Buck had deep and angry looking scars that ran down his face and neck. They weren't from a fight with another Creature or an angry honey badger. He'd gotten them from a group of Hunters, which was the reason he'd left New York all together. Him and his best friend's little brother had gotten caught and tortured before they eventually got away. Johnny had heard the story three times now, but each time made his stomach twist.

  The first time he'd heard it, the Curtis brothers had been with him. He couldn't imagine the thoughts running through their heads. Were they thinking about their parents? Were they wondering if it had been quick? Maybe they were just thinking about what could happen to the gang if they were caught. Whatever was playing in their minds, Johnny had never seen such anguish on his family's faces. He hated it.

  Tonight wasn't a night they were going to Buck's though. It was around midnight and Johnny was laying on his bed. He couldn't sleep, so he was laying on his back, staring at the palm of his hand. He'd already knew that he had natural powers over minds and illusions, but he hadn't realized how much he could do without spells. It was kind of like how Steve had manipulation over fire and mechanics, but he needed spells for the majority of magic. The only difference was that fire would dance whenever Steve did magic and all Johnny had was a thin layer of black smoke that settled over his palm.

  His magic had been strengthening a lot since he'd met Dally. He'd even managed to get his hands on a spell book. Dallas had been letting him borrow some of them so that Johnny could practice his magic. Which gave Johnny something to do when he couldn't sleep. His parents were arguing in the living room, but Johnny was so used to it that he tuned them out. He guessed they were fighting over something stupid. His dad probably forgot to throw his beer can away or something.

  Johnny was working on a levitation spell, which was kind of complex. Dally had assured him that he could do any magic he wanted, as long as he practiced. So here he was, practicing as best as he could. He had caused the water bottle on his to levitate and then he had gently put it back on the ground. He had been listening to his parents earlier, but as soon as he lifted the bottle and the sensation of a gentle hug encircled him, he'd felt tons better. His magic made him feel safe, so that was another reason he was practicing in his room.

  Johnny closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. He extended his left arm, his palm open and his poster loose. He let the spell words- there were just two of them for such a complex spell- fall from his lips in quiet mummer. He felt that gentle pressure wrap around his chest and hold him softly. For a second, he imagined it was Dallas's arms, and then he felt the unmistakable movement of his target, except it was more than he'd wanted.

  When Johnny opened his eyes- which were completely black- he realized that everything in the room was floating. His dresser and everything on it, the nightstand by his bed, his ratty old Converse, and his bed with him still on top. The bottom of the curtains in front of his bedroom window were gently floating, almost like they were blowing in the wind. Johnny smiled widely. He was making everything float! He was doing that. It made him feel incredible. He had mastered his first complex spell and he felt like he was floating- er- not in the literal sense.

  Johnny's door swung open and hit the wall. His parents were arguing and his mother was pointing at Johnny over her shoulder. Johnny's black eyes widened and he gasped. "Let's just ask Johnny then! See what he has to think about wha-"

  His parents stopped arguing. They were deadly quiet, in fact. Johnny dropped his arm, the dark air in his palm vanished, and everything crashed to the ground. It rattled the house, shaking the Cade family to their cores.

  "What the fuck were you doing?" James Cade's eyes narrowed to slits, his fists clenching together tightly. His mother had her hand grasping her mouth, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. She was afraid. Johnny was watching his mom with wide eyes, but he had been too focused on her.

  A fist smashed against the left side of his face. It hurt too much for Johnny to be able to pinpoint exactly where he'd been hit. Johnny's eyes immediately began to water, despite his previous experience with being hit in the face. A hand wrapped up in his white t-shirt, dragging him by it. His father was leading him to the living room. He was yelling something, but Johnny was too focused on the pain in his cheek.

  Why did this have to happen? He'd been so happy, he'd felt so good in those few seconds. But like always, as soon as he had a peaceful and genuinely happy moment- it turned to shit. Johnny was thrown to the floor, barely even inside of the living room. His mother was silent, but words and spittle were still flowing from his father's mouth.

  Johnny must have been asked a question that he didn't hear, because a fist collided with his face again, his nose giving another sickening crunch. This was about the third time his nose had been broken and two of the times it had been his father's doing. Johnny wanted to sob.

  "I asked you a question! How long? How long has your soul been sold to the Devil?" James was hovering over his son, his beady eyes were small and hollow. His mother was still quiet, lurking in the shadows with her hand covering her mouth in shock.

  "You... did this! Not me! I was born thi-"

  Johnny's father didn't even let him finish before he was boxed in the ear. One punch. Johnny's ears were ringing and he couldn't hear the words being bellowed at him. He could barely see anything for the blood covering his face and the tears in his eyes.

  James stood up and stormed away. This was it? No more punches and no more broken bones? This was one of the easier beatings Johnny had taken. This was nothing compared to the time he'd broken one of the good China plates his mom had used for Christmas. That had been the first time his nose had been broken and his arm. Johnny didn't think he'd ever seen the gang that mad, besides when he'd shown up with a deep cut on his face, which had needed stitches.

  Johnny had never dreamed his parents had ever really wanted to hurt him. Sometimes he deserved it, since he was a problem child. They had just been trying to shape him for the real world, but they just had a difficult way of doing it. He knew his mom would smack him every now and then, but it was more the liquor than it was her. His dad was just angry all the time and Johnny perfered him to hit his son than his wife.

  Johnny had made plenty of excuses over the years for the abuse. He'd truly believed it was him and not his parents. It was hard raising a kid and it made parents tense. Being too tense causes people to snap. Little snaps was all it was, but as soon as he saw the gun in his father's hands, he realized that was not it at all.

  His father was sick in the head. He had to have been, to pull a gun on his only child.

  "No child of mine will be a freak. No son of ours will be a monster." His dad spit the words out at Johnny. He was cowering on the floor, but as soon as his dad cocked the gun and put his finger on the trigger, he felt something. Instead of a gentle hug wrapping around his chest, it felt like a punch crashing against his breastbone. Johnny screamed and his dad went flying across the room, the gun going off and the bullet lodging into the floor a few inches from Johnny's head. All of the lights and the windows cracked and shattered, sending shards of glass flying all around the living room.

  It was deadly quiet. His father's head had bounced against the wall, causing his unconscious body to limply slide to the ground. That got his mother's mouth working. She started to sob and wail, walking around Johnny in a large arc. She had a couple thin scratches from the glass on her forearm, causing Johnny's heart to thunder.

  "Mom, are you okay?"

  Her head swiveled quickly- her eyes locking on Johnny. She snarled at him, teeth glinting in the flickering light- the only one that hadn't shattered- above the couch. "You're a monster. A fucking monster!"

  She moved James's body, letting his head rest on her folded legs. She was sobbing, hands on either side of his face. She was talking, but Johnny couldn't hear anything. He was looking down at his hands. How could he have hurt his mom? His mother, who must have been too shocked to stop his father with the gun, hadn't deserved to be hurt. She was scraped up a lot more than he originally thought. Cuts were all over her chest and arms. He could have killed them both.

~~~

  Johnny was crying, blood running from his mouth and nose. It was hot again tonight, but Johnny didn't care. He'd been walking for a while. He'd grabbed his one pair of shoes before he'd ran off. He hadn't known where he was going, only that he didn't want to be home or anywhere nearby. Which canceled out the lot and the Curtis house. He'd text the gang in the morning and hope they wouldn't be too mad at him for not showing up after what happened.

  Johnny wasn't that surprised when he'd found himself at Buck's club. He'd been there a lot in the last couple months and didn't expect it to change anytime soon. He kicked some pebbles around outside of the shitty looking building. Maybe he shouldn't be here. Johnny turned on his heels, turning his back to the busted neon sign that said 'Buck's'. It hadn't been working for a few weeks now. Johnny picked up his feet and started walking again. He could probably crash at the Shepard house.

  "Johnny Cake? That you?" Johnny jumped at the voice. Of course it would be Dallas who would notice him outside. Johnny turned around and looked at him. He was standing on the porch of the club, looking down at the bloody teen with furrowed eyebrows. Dallas couldn't really see Johnny in the darkness of the night, but Johnny could see him. His purple Fairy tattoos were gone, just like his ears. He looked like a normal teenager with a normal face. Nothing too handsome, but nothing too ordinary about him either. It was his Glamour, which had activated as soon as he crossed the threshold to the outside world.

  "Yeah, it's me." Johnny's voice cracked and Dallas jerked his head over his shoulder. Johnny looked at the door behind him, still not sure if he should be here. Dallas sighed and hopped of the porch. His boots crushed the gravel under his feet and he stuck his hand out for Johnny to take. As soon as Dally's eyes focused and he saw all the blood on his face and shirt, a dark look washed over his face.

  "What the fuck happened? Was it Hunters? Did they jump you?" Dallas grabbed Johnny by his shoulders and gently tilted his chin up with his hand. Johnny shook his head and then Dallas was dragging him up the porch steps and into the club. Not too many people were there, but it was still pretty full. Johnny saw Phillip the troll dancing with a troll girl nearby. Bethany, if Johnny remembered correctly.

  Johnny was already trying to hold fresh tears back, keeping his head low and letting Dallas drag him wherever. Dally's hand was wrapped tightly around Johnny's wrist- a lot harder than Johnny thought he meant to.

  Soon enough, Dally had brought them to a bedroom and shut the door behind the two of them. Johnny looked around and saw a mouth guard, the bandage wrapping for fists, and a first aid kit. Pictures of random people and things were stuck in the mirror above the dresser. Dally was in two of the three with people. In one picture, it was of a little Fairy kid with black wings. The kid looked like an angel with the feathers all prim and proper. It seemed to personal for someone to have up in a random room. This was Dally's room. He had brought Johnny to his room. Johnny let out a small sob and Dallas jumped slightly. He released Johnny's wrist and Johnny rubbed it softly.

  Dally's icy blue eyes widened. They looked softer again, much unlike when he was around other people. Johnny was the only one he looked at like that, but Johnny still couldn't process that. "Shit, I didn't realize. What happened to you, man?"

  "My parents. They caught me doing magic in my room. Weren't to happy," Johnny whispered. The words hurt his throat too much to say loudly. Confusion warped across Dallas's face.

  "Why would- why would they be upset about you doing magic?"

  "They're human. They didn't know I wasn't. They hate anyone not like them." Johnny wrapped his arms around himself, shaking slightly. He didn't need to be here right now. He needed to leave. He opened his mouth to offer an apology for inconveniencing Dallas, but what he did say wasn't what he meant to. "They tried to kill me. And I hurt them. I hurt them really bad."

  Dallas didn't need to hear anything else, because he was wrapping his arms around Johnny's thin frame. He could feel the younger teen shaking like a leaf and he held Johnny tightly. Dallas was pissed. More pissed than he had been in a while. He'd never even met Johnny's parents, but he was already ready to break a couple laws.

  "I'm a monster..."

  Dallas shushed Johnny, rocking the two of them softly while standing. Johnny sniffled a couple times and patted Dally's back awkwardly. Dallas let his arms fall to his sides and he pulled a chair away from the wall and patted it. Johnny sat down and Dallas grabbed his first aid kit.

  "Where are you hurt? Just the face?" Dallas asked. Johnny nodded, so Dallas gently took his chin in his grip and tilted his face up. His nose was definitely broken and his eye already had a deep purple and black bruise around it. Dallas was still mad, but that wasn't helping right now. Johnny winced when Dallas tried to wipe the blood falling from his nose. His lip was split too, but it had already stopped bleeding.

  Dallas reached in the kit and grabbed a blue tube of liquid. He handed it to Johnny, who gently took it from Dallas's grasp, like he might hurt the other one. "Drink this. It'll make you feel weird for a second, but you'll be fine after that."

  Johnny wiggled the container, watching the liquid swirl inside. He downed it in one go and Dallas watched him carefully. Johnny didn't feel anything at first, but soon his entire face was tingling violently. This was what Dallas drank after the ring fights, which happened every other week. Buck hosted fights sometimes and people bet on the winner. It was pretty cool to see people fight, when it wasn't Johnny or his parents.

  Dallas wasn't undefeated, but he was closer to that than any of the other fighters. Johnny had been around for about four fights total and Dallas had been in about two of them. Dallas had won them both, when Johnny was there to watch. After the two fighters stopped fighting, they were both given two little blue vials. They healed automatically after that, which was wild to see.

  "You're all fixed up. It got rid of the blood too, so now we just need to get you a different shirt." Dallas said. Johnny looked in the mirror that sat on the dresser. Sure enough, his face wasn't bloody anymore. Johnny gently prodded his no-longer swollen lip and repaired nose. It wasn't even crooked anymore, which had happened from the first two breaks.

  "Thank you. You didn't have to do that." Johnny caught a t-shirt that Dally had thrown at him. Dally motioned for Johnny to give him the other one. Johnny stood up from the chair and tried to pull his shirt off. He was still shaking pretty bad though, his fingers kept trembling and dropping the hem of his shirt.

  A pale pair of hands gently grabbed a hold of the bottom of Johnny's shirt. Dallas spoke in a soft voice, almost a whisper. "Bullshit I didn't have to help. I know what that shit is like and just because nobody really helped me, doesn't mean I can't help you. Suck it up, Cake, it's what friends are for."

  Dallas was gentle, so gentle that Johnny was ready to break down and cry more. Dallas pulled Johnny's shirt over his head, their bodies really close together. Gooseflesh rolled across Johnny's bare skin. It wasn't remotely cold in here, but he could feel Dally's gaze on him and that was enough. Dallas helped Johnny into the clean shirt. Johnny really wasn't expecting Dallas to pull his shirt off, so he almost choked on air when he saw the bare chest of the Fairy.

  Dallas discarded his- also bloody- shirt and tossed it into a hamper in the corner of the room. Johnny's eyes widened and his fingers were already reaching out to trace the tattoos on Dally's back. They were like the ones on his wrists. They were thorn bush vines that circled his waist and curled a little ways up his back. They were the same grape purple as the ones on Dally's wrists. They were really pretty.

  "I've had them since I was little. After a certain age, all Fae get them. Mine and my mom's were the same." Dallas was looking over his shoulder and watching the warmth in Johnny's dark eyes increase. His fingertips were light and gentle, sending shivers up Dally's spine.

  "I've always wanted tattoos, but I don't think mine could ever be as pretty as these." Johnny gave a small smile and Dallas watched him in the mirror. Johnny was mesmerized, tracing each and every vine and thorn. He wished he was Fae, just for the tattoos, honestly.

  Johnny was silent as he traced them. Dallas didn't seem to mind, which made sense. They were friends and that's what friends do. They are comfortable around each other.

  Friends do not do this. They don't trace each others shirtless bodies or stand as close as we are right now. All I have to do is move half and inch and I'll be pressed against him. Johnny thought the words, but as quick as they arrived, they left.

  There were thick, pink scars on Dallas's back. They were raised above the skin and looked jagged. Johnny's fingers left the tattoos and traveled to the two, long, thick, and puffy scars that were on Dallas's back. They started a little below his shoulder blades and ended a couple inches above his tattoos. How had Johnny not noticed them first?

  As soon as Johnny's finger ghosted the top of the left side scar, Dallas jumped. Johnny stopped moving and waited to see if Dallas told him to stop. He didn't, so Johnny finished tracing the jagged- cut?

  "What are these from?" Johnny asked. Dallas pulled away then, going to grab a shirt from his dresser draw. Johnny backed up and watched the taller of the two move around his room.

  "I used to have wings." Dallas spoke so softly, Johnny almost didn't hear him. Dallas had wings? The scars did match up with where the wings were supposed to be. How did he lose them? Was it an accident? Was there a fight? How long ago did it happen? Why did it happen? Johnny had questions swarming his mind, but he remembered when he got his cheek cut up and all the questions from that. He'd hated each answer that was drug out of him.

  "What did they look like?" Johnny whispered the question. He saw the frustration- which he knew wasn't aimed at him- and anger flash across Dallas's face. Johnny just wasn't ready to see the painful expression on his face. He locked eyes with Johnny and flashed a weak smile.

  "They were beautiful. I wish I cou- yeah." Dallas shook his head, like he was throwing the thought away. The words made Johnny's chest hurt. The pain was still on Dallas's face and just like with the Curtis brother and that story, Johnny would do anything to make that look go away. The picture stuck in the frame of the mirror jumped out at him. That was Dallas. The kid with the black wings- the ones that made him look like an angel. Those were Dally's wings.

  Before Dallas could put his shirt back on, Johnny placed a hand on his back. The familiar hug sensation wrapped around Johnny's chest and black wings sprouted from Dallas's back. They were just like the ones in the picture, the little grey feather towards the top and all. Johnny backed away and the wings stayed on the scars. They even moved back and forth. It was a pretty good illusion.

  Dallas's eyes locked on himself in the mirror and he smiled. It was a bittersweet smile, but the pain in his eyes was gone and Johnny had made it go away. Dally's hands twitched to touch them and Johnny nodded at him. Dally's right hand grazed the feathers of his left wing and he gave a startled laugh.

  The illusion did not falter, but remained very solid. Dallas leaned into the touch of his wings and smiled at Johnny. He crossed the room and pulled Johnny into a hug. The wings disappeared, since it caught Johnny off guard. Dallas was hugging him tightly and Johnny felt nice. It was a 'thank you' that Dallas couldn't get out.

  Dallas pulled back, but didn't move out of the space. He was looking down at Johnny, eyes scanning his face. Dallas brought his left hand up and let his thumb graze Johnny's scar. He was gentle, just as Johnny had been. Dallas opened his mouth to say something, but his bedroom door swung open. Dally's eyes lost their softness and he glared at whoever had opened the door. He dropped his hand from Johnny's face, but didn't move away from Johnny. There bodies were still inches apart.

  Buck was standing in the door, looking at the two of them with a twinkle in his eye. He had grey eyes and his ears were tall and pointed. He had his long dirty blond hair pulling into a bun at the base of his neck. He was slim, but not as tall as Dally. Dally sighed and looked back at Johnny.

  "Head up to the roof and I'll meet you there." Johnny nodded and Buck moved out of the way to let him head up the other set of stairs off to the side of Dally's room. He was going to go look at the stars and wait for Dally to join him.

  "You're falling for that warlock boy, huh?" Buck leaned against the door frame. Dallas knew his face had given his answer away, because Buck whooped and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thought so. Go keep the kid company. Have fun, but we're going to talk about the next fight in the morning. I need to figure out who to put you up against."

  Dally shot him the finger and earned himself a hair ruffle as he was going out of the door. He jogged up the stairs, trying to get the pink out of his cheeks and ears. When he got to the roof, Johnny was sitting on the edge and staring up at the stars.

  Johnny looked over when Dallas joined him and gave him a small smile.

  "What are you looking at? Any constellations?" Dallas asked. Johnny shook his head and looked at his feet, that he was kicking back and forth over the ledge of the roof.

  "I'm just lost in thought."

  There was a silence that hung between the two. Johnny was thinking about his mother's sobbing and the cuts from the glass in the windows. How could he have done that? To his own mother?

  "What happened, Johnny? Why'd they do that to you?" Dallas was looking at him with those soft eyes again. Johnny wondered why he cared so much. Why he cared at all. He was a monster, someone who hurt his own family. What would stop him from hurting his friends? Johnny looked away and figured this was a shitty last conversation to have. Dallas would definitely hate him after this. If not hate, then just not want to be around.

  "My parents are human, like I said. My powers started up around the time I met the Curtis family. I showed them that I could make Ponyboy fall asleep, just by touching him and saying it. They told me about them being werewolves and asked if my parents knew. I said no and then they explained that it should probably stay that way. I agreed, even then.

  "Tonight, I was practicing a levitating spell in my room. It was just a water bottle on my dresser. Then it was supposed to be my dresser, but I made everything float. It was the best feeling in the world. My parents had been arguing and decided I should be brought into it, so they came into my room. They saw everything floating and the next thing I knew, I was getting beat up in the living room. My dad pulled a gun on me. I freaked out and threw him across the room. The windows and lights exploded, which cut my mom up pretty bad. She called me a monster and I think she's right."

  Johnny took in a deep, shivering, breath. He felt tears try to pool into his eyes, but he blinked them back. "I know that they were just scared and it's my fault. I shouldn't have been practicing in the house. I knew better and my dad's just stressed over work and I-"

  "Johnny, stop. Stop. This is not your fault in any way, shape, or form. No matter how scared or stressed a parent is, they don't try to kill you. They should never hurt you." Dally's eyes flickered to the scar on Johnny's cheek. He knew who had done that, without even having to ask.

  "I still shouldn't have hurt them. I feel so bad." Johnny took his shirt-tail and wiped a stray tear away. Dally's shoulder pressed against his and there was a silence again. He waited for Dallas to get up and leave him, but it never happened. He stayed there and never once made a move to leave.

  "My parents weren't great either. Back in New York, when I was with my parents, they fought a lot. They were drunks, so it happens. Well, my mom took it too far one night, after a huge fight with my dad. My mom got into his liquor, sort of to spite him. She got into a bottle of Fairy Drink, which was really bad since she was only half-Fairy. Long story short, she died and I just got... angry. I was out with friends more than I was at home. Buck and me were out one night and we got caught by some Hunters.

  "I don't know how they knew about us. Either way, they stripped off my Glamour and when they saw my wings... you get the picture. I got us out of there, which was hard since Buck was so torn up and my brother was dead. They had us there for two days, just playing with us. When I got back to the apartment, my dad had all of our shit packed up and ready for us to leave. Buck came down to Tulsa with us."

  Dallas scoffed and spit off the side of the building. Johnny was surprised at the fact that Dallas was the kid that Buck was with. That he was the kid in the story. "It wasn't until after we got down here that my dad told me about the Fairy Drink. He told me that someone had broke in. He said it was random and that they got scared and ran off without taking anything. Bastard."

  Johnny was looking at the ground still. He almost jumped out of his skin when Dally's fingers slid under his chin and turned his head towards his. He was looking Johnny in the eyes seriously.

  "So don't believe what your parents say. I know monsters, but you are not one of them." Dallas was staring Johnny down. "Okay?"

  "Yeah. Okay." Johnny said the words honestly. He wasn't a monster.

  Even after Johnny agreed, Dallas never removed his hand. His forefinger stayed where it was, but his thumb moved across the scar on Johnny's cheek again. It was dark outside, but the two of them were illuminated by the stars and the big, almost full, moon. Johnny bundled his left hand in Dally's shirt.

  As if on instinct, Johnny's tongue wet his bottom lip. Dally's mouth quirked a little and then he was leaning down, closing the small distance between them. Johnny's mouth found his and there was a moment where neither one of them moved. Johnny felt like a middle schooler right then, so he deepened the kiss. He wanted to smile when Dally's other hand moved to his face, but he didn't want to mess up this kiss.

  Dallas was gentle with him still, the only rough thing was his fingernail grazing across Johnny's scar and Johnny's hands doing the same to the scars on his back. Dally's mouth was soft and his face had a small amount of stubble, which nipped gently at Johnny's warm skin.

  They broke away and rested their foreheads together. Dally's hands were still on Johnny's cheeks and Johnny's hands were twisted in his shirt. They breathed the cooling air in, smiling like idiots.

  "See? Nobody thinks a monster is beautiful. So obviously, you can't be one." Johnny rolled his eyes and Dallas leaned back down for another kiss, something Johnny was more than ready for. Their lips had barely brushed when door to the roof crashed open.

  "This better be important, Buck." One look at Buck's face was enough to tell the two boys that it was important. Johnny's stomach dropped and Dally was already getting to his feet.

  "The Hunters. They're here."

[poppyknitt]

A Family of Horrors- A Darkness and Desperation (a JSE Egos AU) Fanfic

Summary: Anthony Hermann Scott, more commonly known by his online pin name, Anti, is just a normal guy, or so he thinks. As it turns out, the other children from the family that abandoned him as a baby are all somewhat evil, and are part of a gang type of thing, and they want him to join them.

———

Anthony walked quickly along the sidewalk, trying to get home before the sun finished setting. He knew he wasn’t going to make it within that time, even as he kept a steady pace, but he might as well try.

About thirty minutes passed, and the sun was down, and he was walking down an empty road, lined on either side by trees. His vision was already mostly adjusted to the dark, the only thing preventing it from fully adjusting being the ambient light from street lights. He looked up, to see where exactly he was, and froze when he saw a shaded figure standing completely still, just outside of the fourth light down from him. It looked to be a shorter man wearing a bowler hat, from what he could tell, but he wasn’t too sure. He debated going to the other side of the road, but he decided not to, since that would just be ru-

Out of nowhere, a cloth covered his mouth, and another held him back, as he tried to fight off whoever it was. He realized the figure was gone, as his brain was beginning to shut down. He stopped fighting at some point, and felt himself being lowered to the ground, just before he passed out.

...

“Oh, good, he’s coming to.” A voice rang through the quiet, as his vision slowly cleared, and his senses returned. To his horror, realized he was tied up, and they- whoever he was with- were in a van of some kind. It started moving just as he figured it out, almost making him fall backwards.

He looked at the person who must have spoken, and was slightly taken aback when he saw it was a guy that looked a lot like him, in a crop top, 4-inch heels, and... booty shorts?

He blinked for a moment, very confused, for several reasons.

“What, too taken aback by my sheer fabulousness, sweetheart?” The man smirked, his voice light and playful, but with a slight little lilt to it that he couldn’t quite place, despite it giving him chills.

“... N...No..?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, pumpkin. We’re not here to hurt you! We just want our brother to join us in the family business!”

“W-Wait, what?! Brother?! I-I’m an only child!” He would’ve scrambled back, but his arms were tied to his side and his legs were tied together.

The smile he gave Anti radiated malice and amusement, “Oh, honeybun, don’t be so silly. You’re adopted, you know that.”

“... S-So what? ... St-...Still counts..”

“No, sugarplum, it doesn’t. You were born into our family, along with your twin, but mother had to give you up, because she couldn’t handle two babies at once, not again, at least.”

“... why couldn’t you just ask me to come..?”

His “brother” perked up, “Because, darlin’, this was more fun!”

“Jack wouldn’t let us come peacefully. Said you’d just leave us behind.” Someone in the front cabin spoke, and he looked past the cloaked man to see the man with the bowler hat, and a man in a ball cap, who was driving.

“Who are you all, anyways..?”

“I’m Chase. The suited dude next to me is Jameson, and that flirty jackass is Marvin.”

“I love you too, twig.” Marvin purred sarcastically, looking into the driver’s cabin with a grin on his face. Chase tsked.

“Eat a dick, beanpole.” He retorted, not taking his eyes off the road, even for a second.

“...” Either these guys had issues, or they were quite an odd set of brothers.

The rest of the car ride was spent mostly with his three kidnappers exchanging witty, sassy banter, and the occasional silence, too. He couldn’t see out the windows from where he was, and there was very little light inside the van, so if there was anything close enough to grab that he could use to escape or something, he didn’t know about it.

After what seemed like forever, the van stopped, and the two up front got out, as Marvin cut the rope tying his feet together, presumably so he could walk with them. The door opened, and before he could react, he was yanked up roughly, and found himself being practically dragged behind Marvin. They were inside a facility of some kind, now, and he could see every door in the sort of underground parking garage area they were in was being guarded on either side by a henchman.

Marvin let go as they entered one of the doors on the far side of the large, empty concrete room, and, to Anti’s surprise, the rest of the place actually looked fairly modern and high-tech. The ceiling lights were a bright, nearly perfect white as they lit the rooms up in an almost blinding way. It was almost unbelievable that they could afford this.

They arrived at a door, and stopped for a moment, before Marvin knocked on it, and spoke, his voice melodious and flowing beautifully, in a sort of unnerving way. “Oh, cutie pie~! Open the door; we have a gift for you~!”

“... You know I never lock my doors when I’m expecting you, doll~” A voice hesitated from the other side. Marvin laughed, and opened the door, waltzing in like he owned the place, and sat down in a chair on the left side of the room. The room in question was an office, and, in the middle of the far wall, was a desk, where the presumable owner of the voice sat, facing away from them. The man turned around slowly, giving them a cold, dead look for a moment.

“Ah, I see, you’ve found our lost brother, Marvin. Very good.” He smiled at him, though, Anthony didn’t like the weird vibe all of this was giving him.

“Indeed, we have~! He wasn’t even that hard to convince!”

“Well, considering that-“ He was cut off when Marvin shot him a cocky glare, still grinning a bit.

“Good, good. I didn’t think he’d be strong enough to fight even little Jameson off. I’m glad my assumptions proved right.”

He decided it was best to stay quiet. “...”

“... So, brother dear, are we to continue the plan as usual..?” Marvin’s flirty tone dropped, becoming much lower and huskier than before, as if he was somewhat trying to hide what he was saying.

“Ah, good point. Yes, I suppose we should... Marvin, would you do the honors, and deliver him to the Doctor for his checkup?”

“With pleasure, teddy bear~!” Marvin exclaimed, jumping up. Anti didn’t even get a chance to question or fight it before he was being forcefully dragged out by his arm, unable to fight back due to the restraints.

He walked along with Marvin, heart racing in both terror and confusion, as the corridors seemed to get darker and darker, until finally, they reached the end of the hall, which held a singular door, with a neon sign above it that read “LAB1”.

“Henny, darling, guess who we found~!” Marvin purred, and a few footsteps were heard, followed by the door opening. In the doorway stood a near perfect replica of himself, wearing glasses, and staring up at the magician with wide eyes. His gaze flicked to Anthony, and immediately, he nearly fell back, dropping his clipboard. Good, he wasn’t crazy, this guy recognized him, too.

Marvin went inside, after untying him, and Anthony followed reluctantly, stopping to help this “Henny” guy, by picking the clipboard up for him.

“Here, you dropped this.” He smiled. The slightly taller male nodded, a glum look on his face.

“... Th... Thank you, brother...” Oh, he was one of them?

“Come on, pumpkin! Dilly-dally any longer, and I may just have to not be so nice~!” Marvin called from where he was, and Anti sighed, walking over to him. He almost froze when he saw that the magician was leaning up against a chair, which had wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the armrests and front legs. Oh, god...

“W-What are you planning to do?”

“Oh, nothing much... This is just a little, uh, orientation kind of thing... Come on, sit down, it’ll make this a whole lot easier~.”

“... Uh, n-no...thank..you..?” He said warily, and soon realized that that had been a terrible choice of words. Marvin’s smile suddenly looked almost forced, and his eyes darkened to a certain kind of tone that he couldn’t really make out.

“Tch, suit yourself...” Marvin snapped his fingers, and the next thing Anti knew, he was unable to move on his own anymore, and Marvin was bringing him to the chair, slung over his shoulder. He found himself strapped in, and his movements restored, as he started thrashing around, trying to get free.

“L...Let me go! Y-Y-You-! Wh-What are you even trying to do to me?!” He cried out, as he fought against the new restraints. Marvin simply smirked, and raised a hand.

“Henrik, darling... Prepare the you-know-what, alright, gorgeous? I’m gonna leave the rest of this up to you, since, well... You should know what happens to traitors in this little gang of ours, by now.” Henrik nodded, and went over to his desk, putting on gloves and doing other such procedures for whatever they were about to do to him.

Marvin left a few moments later, leaving Anti alone with his probable twin. He had a chance to reason with the doctor, now!

“H-...Hen, Henrik, bro, please... Y-You don’t... Y-You don’t have to do this to me, a-alright? P-Please... Just... let me go...”

Henrik stayed silent, his composure falling, as his pain began to show visually. Good! Great! Awesome; Henrik didn’t want to do this!

“Please... I-I-I can just... pretend that you did whatever you’re gonna do, right..? Y-You... W-W-We can pull this off...” Henrik raised a syringe with some kind of glowing, green liquid in it towards the light, his glasses reflecting enough of it to make his eyes impossible to see. “(oh god...) He-Henrik, please! Y-You don’t have to...! Y-You can-! Please! D-Don’t do this, for the love of god! He-Hen, stop-!” He pleaded and begged desperately for the doctor to listen as he slowly approached, needle in hand and ready to be used. It didn’t work, and his cries of desperation were cut off when Henrik injected him with whatever it was, via a vein or artery in his shoulder. His heart was racing, and for a moment, he thought nothing was going to happen.

Then, a tingling, staticy feeling erupted from his shoulder, swiftly enveloping every single nerve in his body, as he started screaming in pain and terror. The static started taking over his brain, too, and he could feel his body twitching madly, as his hearing was taken over by a combination of what sounded like tv static, and a loud, ear-splitting ringing noise.

All of his senses were quickly overpowered, and he couldn’t even tell if he was still screaming anymore. He didn’t care though, because he was sure he was screaming “Let me go”, “Get it out”, and “Why are you doing this?!” over and over again. Tears began spilling from his eyes, and he couldn’t tell if they were actual tears, or if he was bleeding. His nose and mouth both had blood falling out as well, and he could swear his body was glitching violently.

Eventually, it became too much for him to handle, and, he passed out, all of his senses dying out with him.

~~

He woke up slowly, his vision slowly returning to him, as the back of his mind played a very low-pitch version of the ringing he’d heard however long ago he’d passed out. He looked around, sensing someone laying with their head and arms gently rested on him. It... was that Henrik..?

... Oh, god, wait... What the hell?! Why was he... Why did he look like that?! Why was there a green tint to his body, and why did it look as though he were in a shitty old arcade game, but with realistic graphics?! He started hyperventilating, severely confused by whatever could have been wrong with him. It was at that point that Henrik awoke, and looked to him. The poor doctor looked so exhausted, now that he got a better look at him. It was almost like he’d been getting almost no sleep for the past week..!

“A-Anthony...? You... are awake?” His face was full of grief, regret, and a little bit of relief.

“Y-Y-Yeah... wh... why... did you do that..? Wh-what did you do..?”

“... Our brother gave me instructions to give you a serum he’d been working on in secret for the past few weeks... said to drop whatever plans Jackie made for you... because you wouldn’t need them... I-I... didn’t ask any questions... He’s... terrifying when he gets mad...”

“So... Marv did this?”

“I-In a way, I suppose......” Henrik paused, and his face filled with despair and distress, “O-Oh, god... A-A-Anthony, I-I’m so sorry..! I-I-I didn’t realize it would..! I-I didn’t know he wanted to..! Please, I-I’m so sorry! I... Please don’t hate me, brother..!”

He quickly hugged his double, feeling his heart sinking quickly, too, as he spoke. “Hey, hey! C-Calm down..! I-It’s alright, bro... I-I-I don’t hate you... I-I know you didn’t want to hurt me... I... I could see it in the way you were acting... It’s... okay... It’s okay...”

“...” Henrik sobbed into his chest, trembling violently. Anti hadn’t known him for more than a few hours, probably, but he already felt like he’d known him his entire life; as though something had been begging them to meet one another since the day he was born.

“It’s okay...”

~~

Anthony awoke to Henrik gently shaking him, and rubbed his eyes, “... Hen? What... time is it..?”

“Late. The others are asleep, don’t worry.”

“Wh..? Why? What are we..?”

“I’m getting you out of here. I can’t stand to see you so miserable and on edge on the time. It’s... too much like me. I don’t want you falling into the same traps as I.”

“... Hhh...? ... Okay..?” He was too tired and confused to ask anything else, as Henrik helped him up and ushered him into the Lab, and then, further to the halls. From there, they went around a few corners, up several flights of stairs, and down a few corridors, until they finally reached a room a long ways’ away from the bedrooms.

Henrik gestured for him to go in first, so, he did as told, and the doctor shut the door behind himself after following. A single window sat in the middle of the far wall, and Henrik swiftly, but silently, darted to it, opening it. He turned, and tilted his head to the open window. “Use this to escape. Please, it is the best way.”

He didn’t object, and, after he crawled out of it, and onto the neighboring ledge. When Henrik didn’t followed, he looked back in, “Bro..? You coming..?”

“N-No... I-I can’t. Little Cherubie, he... has a tracking spell on me, as he does the rest of us. If I left, he would know, and you would be in grave danger. I cannot risk that.”

“... Oh... Will... we ever see each other again, then..?”

“... I hope not, for your sake... Our eldest brothers do not like it when people disobey them... It gets... very brutal, when that happens.”

“... Farewell, then, Hen...” He said, his heart sinking dejectedly. He turned, and carefully walked down the ledge, until the sloped ground was near enough for him to jump it without harming himself, as Henrik shut the window, and presumably returned to the lab.

He leapt down, and started running. He had no idea how to get from here to his friend’s apartment, which was where he had decided to stay, just to avoid his brothers for a bit, but, hopefully he’d come across a taxi or something.

...

....

Knock knock knock.

“Hang on, I’m coming!” The familiar, muffled voice of Derek called out. A few moments passed, and the door opened, revealing the fluffy goofball, in his messiest appearance yet, “Oh! Holy shit, Anti! Oh my god, we- Are you okay?! Y-You went missing for like, a week!”

“... A week?! I-I was out for six days?!”

“Wh... What?”

“Nevermind! Just, let me inside, Dark! I-I need to stay here for a while.”

“... Oh, jeez, okay, must be really bad...”

The slightly smaller male let him in, and, honestly, he was shocked that Dark hadn’t commented on his new look.

“By the stars! Derek, dear brother, is that Anthony?!” The other familiar voice that lived here piped up. He turned his head to see none other than self-proclaimed “Colonel” William lazing about on the couch!

“Yep, it’s me, Wil. I’ve, uh... got quite a story to tell, though...”

“Ah! Well then, I suppose we ought to call into the police station and tell them you’re back!”

“Yeah... we probably should..” Dark shut the door.

The two went and joined William in the living area, as Celine and Damien, the two’s twin baby siblings, poked their heads out of their room.

“Andy!” They cheered in unison, running over and glomping the poor guy. William laughed affectionately, ruffling the twins’ hair, as they settled in on the couch... Er, rather, on Anti.

“So, my dear friend... You said you have a story to tell?”

——————————————————

Oh, shit, i hit the 100 text blocks limit again... Oops! Sorry, guys. I ended up having to take some risks with the writing to fit everything in, so sorry if a few of the paragraphs seem like they should be split in two or three somewhere. Also, if you weren’t able to figure it out on the nickname he used for Marvin, the guy in the office was Jackie! :3 no he doesn’t know that Marvin changed what Henrik was supposed to do.

@antis-loyal-puppet @tiny-septic-puppet @rorald-spooks @septic-dr-schneep @startschantingpma @insaneangel18-blog @ihaveanunhealthyteaaddiction

[spacs]

aight katie: royal au + 24 hours to live, ignoct - go! :3c

First of all,Dallie, this is rude. Second, ty ily.

So in a royal au,Ignis is the prince. But the 24 hours to live isn’t magical or anything it’s capture.The Nifs have captured Noctis and put a 24-hour mark over his head unless Ignisturns over the Crystal. This ransom goes to Ignis alone because the king andcouncil wouldn’t hand them that power for just Noct. But they also don’t knowthat Ignis is in love with him (spoiler: Noct doesn’t know either, no one doesexcept the Nifs because they have Le Spy – it’s Loqi) and not his betrothed(which is Aranea because in this fateswap she is the Oracle). Ravus is veryagainst this, and obviously does not understand, because he and Noct neverreally liked each other all that much anyway.

**

“The life of one Lucian is notworth the lives of all,” Ravus insists, planting his hands on Ignis’s desk.

Ignis lifts his head from wherehe’s buried it against his fists, and pulls his arms back into his lap. Helooks up at his shield, whose purpose is the protection of the prince, futureking, and friend. Ravus means well, even though he and Noctis never saw eye toeye. But he doesn’t know,yet Niflheim does. Ignis sighs and stands, moving around the desk, ransom notein one hand as the other reaches up to grasp Ravus’s shoulder. Ravus standsstraight, meeting his gaze.

“I won’t sacrifice him.” ToIgnis, this is the obvious truth. Ravus begins to reply but Ignis interruptshim calmly, “I know my duty, Ravus. I know what this means. But Noct…” Hetrails off, unable to find the words to describe this feeling. “I can’t. I won’t.”

**

So they rally –Luna was the last to see him, Crowe knows her way around the city better thananyone, Nyx is the fastest, and Libertus knows the most people. I don’t know howthey would track their way to Noctis, probably by finding out Loqi has beenspying on them.

**

Rage boils under Ignis’s skinas Loqi fights against his bonds. “Why him?”Ignis asks from behind Ravus, who stands between them.

Loqi stops and looks up at him,the smirk on his face dripping with hatred. “You know why,” he sneers.

He does. He feels fingers diginto his forearm as he flinches forward – likely Luna – and he clenches hishands into fists, itching to pull his daggers from the armiger, drag the bladesslowly across Loqi’s skin until he reveals Noctis’s location.

“How did you know?”

“Ignis,” Ravus interrupts him sharply,but the damage is done.

“So, it’s true?” Loqi laughs,no longer making any effort to struggle. “Fool.”

Ignis knows that too.

**

Eventually they getto Noct – probs getting the information from Loqi in some way, maybe lettingIgnis release a bit of that rage or it happens off screen with one of his Squadgetting it from Loqi with him out of the room. Noct’s obviously beentortured/beaten/etc. He’s been in Niflheim custody for more than a day and theyare Not Nice.

**

“You came for me,” Noctismurmurs, his voice garbled and barely audible. His jaw is purple and his cheekis swollen, one of his eyes is bloodshot. Ignis’s heart leaps and he’s tearingat the ropes around Noct’s wrists.

I did this, hethinks, frantic, but he doesn’t say it.

“I’ve got you, Noct,” hewhispers. “I’m here.”

“The… Crystal,” Noct manages.

“Don’t worry,” Ignis insists,freeing Noctis’s wrists and moving to unbind his legs. “Everything is alright,now. I am going to get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s quiet andIgnis almost doesn’t hear him. But it’s said so softly and genuinely that guiltmakes bile rise to the back of Ignis’s throat.

This is not the time or placefor him to argue. He unties Noctis’s ankles and moves back up, gently cradlingNoct’s neck with both hands. “I’ve got you,” he repeats when blue eyes finallylook up at him.

Eyelids fluttering, Noctis’sconsciousness starts to fade. “You’ve got me,” he agrees, letting Ignis catchhim as he falls.

**

So uh yeah. This got longer than it was originally, but Igot really into it. I might turn this into a one-shot, we’ll see. But yeah thiswas fun.

[tahlreth]

I Want That One

AN: This is such a dumb titles for a story, I hate it. XD I’m pretty happy with the story itself, however! It’s pretty long, almost 10k, so if you want to read it on A03 instead, you can find it here.

Anyway! This is for @kirah69 for the Steter Secret Santa Exchange, and I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to @stetersecretsanta for organizing the even!

Alliances were tricky beasts at the best of times, and part of Peter was absolutely delighted to see Talia struggling to form this one. Having dared to question if she would be able to succeed in tying their clan to a neighboring tribe of Octarians, his dear sister had forbidden him from participating in negotiations with their leader. It was a bit ridiculous of her, really. He wasn't the one who called them bloodthirsty savages, after all, and even if he did he wouldn't mean it as an insult. Peter admired their willingness to go to war to protect their own, and even a small tribe of the fierce warriors was capable of destroying an entire settlement of Merfolk.

With more and more dark creatures crawling their way out of the abyss of a nearby trench, their clan needed that kind of aggression on their side.

That was why he would, of course, step in to aid Talia in securing the alliance - eventually. Once her common sense overtook her pride and she asked him to join her at the table, he would be happy to do so. Peter wouldn't even make her beg. Much. Until she broke, however, it was far more amusing to watch her flounder when faced with the stern leader of the Octarians. Unlike him, Talia truly did believe the other species to be savage, crude and inferior.

'They don't even build shelters, Peter', she'd told him once from where she was lounging on a bed of coral and sea silk. 'They don't clothe themselves either, or create jewelry or art or music - all they know is war'.

Looking over the visitors from his favorite alcove (one mostly hidden in the shadows that few ever took notice of), Peter found himself in firm disagreement. Perhaps the adornments the Octarians wore looked more crude than the glittering ornaments his people crafted at first glance, but there was artistry there regardless. Most pieces were probably made of bone rather than coral and shells, but they were just as skillfully shaped, carved into interesting shapes - Peter itched to get his hands on the necklace the leader wore so he could examine it closely. Many of their visitors wore brightly colored spikes and barbs from tropical fish woven in their hair, and if they felt no need to hide their bits behind useless scraps of frippery, Peter saw nothing wrong with that.

He was absolutely fascinated by the symbols that the Octarians had tattooed into the skin of their human halves. There were stories in those tattoos, Peter was sure of it. Most of the ink was black, a deep blue or a vivid red; only a few members had emerald greens, vibrant pinks or shocking oranges. Older members were the ones that were the most decorated - the man Talia was dealing with was nearly covered completely from waist to neck. Perhaps they got them when they became accomplished warriors or hunters, or they could be a right of passage... he wanted to know. He hated when knowledge eluded him, and he knew his sister wouldn't ask any questions about the tattoos, not when they were both scandalous and indecent in the minds of most of the Merfolk in his clan.

Peter could hardly wait for her resolve to break so he could be formally introduced to the Octarians. He had so many questions that needed to be answered once their alliance was secured.

Focused intently on the flagging discussion happening in front of him, Peter had been largely ignoring his surroundings... so it was no wonder, really, that he was taken completely by surprise by a light touch to the inside of his left wrist. His pride would sting later when he remembered the way he startled - he hadn't had anyone sneak up on him in ages, and he was absolutely going to give whoever had touched him without permission a tongue lashing.

Except when he whirled to face the interloper, he found himself staring into wide, unfamiliar brown eyes that almost seemed to glow. At the same time, the touch on his wrist turned firmer - no, not firmer, something was sucking at his skin and he couldn't bring himself to look down at his arm to see what was happening. That would mean tearing his eyes away from the beautiful face in front of him and Peter wasn't ready for that yet. He was too interested in drinking in the pale, almost pearlescent skin that was marked by small, reddish rings that in a true human would have been called 'beauty marks' - and oh, they were lovely. Peter found himself wanting to brush his fingers over them, wanted to map they way they disappeared into short, dark hair and the way they trailed down the right side the Octarian's neck.

For the moment he could only let his eyes follow that path, ignoring the way he felt something wrap around his wrist to create several more points of suction. The Octarian who had interrupted his spying was male and likely younger than Peter. He was old enough to have been inked, at least - his was that vibrant red, looking so delightful against pale skin that Peter longed to run his hands over marked inch of him. Not that there was much of it, as the Octarian's tattoos were limited to a sleeve of swirling lines on his left forearm and a piece that wrapped around his right shoulder to grace that collar bone, a few delicate lines curling into the hollow of his throat.

Forget his hands - Peter wanted his mouth on those beautiful adornments.

Letting his eyes drop further, he found himself just as entranced by the many legs that his new obsession owned. His octopus half was the opposite of his human; the majority of the coloring was the same deep red as those delectable marks on his face and torso. Dotting the skin (which Peter thought might feel like the velvet rich humans wore) were rings of pearlescent white, some of them just large enough to be seen while the largest few were as big as his fist.

It was as he let his eyes run down the length of one tentacle that Peter fully processed the fact that one of the appendages was curled around his wrist. He felt his eyebrows lift at the realization before he gave into his curiosity and twisted his hand enough to stroke the limb that was holding him captive. Just as he'd thought, the surface was velvet to the touch with firm muscle beneath and just a hint of sliminess - it wasn't at all unpleasant, and from the way the Octarian shivered at the touch, the other man felt the same way.

"And who do we have here?" Peter asked in a croon when the Octarian unstuck himself to release his hold. When he glanced down, there was a ring of vivid red circles that might even bruise; they ran all the way around his wrist. They looked rather lurid, almost obscene on his skin, and they left Peter with the odd feeling that he'd been somehow claimed. He arched a brow as he met the Octarian's eyes again and was delighted by the way a red flush began to wash over his face. "Darling, if you wanted to mark me all you had to do is ask," he added while drifting a little closer.

Talia would be furious with him, both for endangering the alliance and for 'lowering' himself by dallying with an Octarian. Peter didn't care - the other man was beautiful, and Peter wanted him.

"Hello," the Octarian breathed, scooting back a little at Peter's advance. Two of his eight tentacles, however, kept drifting towards Peter and twitching - probably an aborted attempt to latch on, so he was fairly certain he wasn't completely unwelcome. "Hi. I mean hello. I said that already. I... I didn't mean to grab you, I'm sorry, I just saw you up here while I was exploring - no, not exploring because this is your home and that would be so rude, to be, you know, snooping around. So I wasn't. Exploring. I was... lost? Yeah. I was lost. And then I saw you, and your tail is just really pretty so I got maybe a little distracted and then before I knew it I was over here and touching you. Hi."

"Hello," Peter said, giving a grin that probably showed off too many of his sharp teeth. The Octarian thought he had a pretty tail, and Peter preened at the thought. He was a rather handsome specimen, and he was well aware of that. Even with his personality (which many people who weren't him found a great deal of fault with) Talia was constantly fielding requests from other merfolk wanting to mate with him. The electric blue of his eyes was mirrored in his tail, and his markings resembled that of a mandarin fish - bright yellow near his waist and shifting to a vivid orange as his scales moved down to his fins. It was very pretty, and he spent a considerable amount of time grooming his scales until they shone. Peter took great pride in the rest of his appearance as well, and while modesty was all well and good he also believed in being truthful. He was stunning, and he was pleased that the beautiful Octarian had noticed.

"Hi." Peter bit back a laugh at the newest, breathless greeting - he didn't want the Octarian to think he was making fun of him.

"Now that we've said hello several times over, let's try something new. You can call me Peter, and if you're so curious about how my people live I would be extremely pleased to give you a guided tour. We can begin here and - if you'd like - end in my bedroom." The Octarian let out a soft sound that wasn't quite a yelp, darting back with more force than he'd been using previously. He managed to run into a wall and kept his back plastered there, staring at Peter with those lovely brown eyes.

"That's. That would be... I don't think..." the Octarian gulped, bringing Peter's attention to his neck - it was already lovely, but the pale, slender length would look even better decorated with Peter's bite marks. "I'm Stiles," he said, not quite shrinking away when Peter got close again. Not wanting to crowd... Stiles so much he felt threatened, Peter stopped an arm's length away. It was hard not to grin when the tip of one of Stiles' tentacles began to lightly stroke his side, shifting between skin and scales and making shivers of pure pleasure zing down Peter's spine. "That's not... my mom was from a tribe that lived in different waters, and the name she gave me is... most can't... so Stiles is good. I think my dad would kill me if I agreed to go to your bedroom, so. Not that I want to even if he wouldn't get mad - not that I don't want to, exactly, but. I'm sorry for grabbing you?"

"Don't apologize for that," Peter said with a smile, holding up his wrist for Stiles to inspect. "You look good on me, sweetheart."

Stiles' lovely eyes darted from Peter's to his wrist and back again several times, mouth dropping open a little in an expression Peter couldn't quite interpret. "Yeah," he whispered finally, sounding wrecked. "I mean! Uh. I shouldn't have done that. Probably." A second tentacle had joined the first on Peter's opposite side, and he refused to draw attention to the soft, exploring touches - it felt far too enjoyable. It made him want more though, made him wish Stiles would wrap all those tentacles around Peter and leave marks all over his skin. "My dad is probably wondering where I am. I should probably... go and join the talks again before they realize I slipped off. I wasn't going to do anything, I just wanted to see," he added hurriedly, perhaps realizing how bad it could look to have a member of a diplomatic party slip off unattended to 'explore'.

"If Talia says anything, tell her that I'll vouch for you," Peter said, shrugging one shoulder. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take if it kept him in Stiles' good graces. If it pissed off his sister at the same time, that was just a happy bonus. "I'm afraid I can't help you with your father, however."

"... right. Okay. I have to go now."

"Of course."

"I mean, I really need to."

"I'm not stopping you," Peter pointed out, breaking his rule and carefully settling the fingers of either hand on the tentacles that were touching his sides. He loved the way Stiles shuddered as he skimmed his fingers upward, but he didn't try to hold onto him when Stiles pulled his tentacles away. "If you need to go, darling, I wouldn't dream of keeping you."

"Right. I'm going to, uhm. Go then," Stiles said, starting to edge his way along the wall, away from Peter. True to his word, Peter stayed where he was... but there was probably no hiding the interest he felt. Stiles' eyes never left him as he inched away; the Octarian went so far as to swim down the hallway backwards so he didn't have to look away. Just before he turned the corner, Stiles paused and swallowed hard again. "Could I maybe... if you're not busy... could I maybe see you again? Later? If my dad doesn't, you know. Kill me. I still probably shouldn't go to your bedroom, but you could maybe, uhm. Give me a tour of the other stuff here. So I don't have to explore by myself."

"I would be delighted, Stiles. Shall I come find you in the morning? I assure you that time spent with me will be far more enjoyable than whatever mindless entertainment they've set up for your group tomorrow."

"I'm sure I'll find time with you extremely pleasurable," Stiles said before turning that lovely shade of red again. "So... so I'll see you tomorrow then? Oh, but won't you get in trouble? I'm really not supposed to wander around without Talia's permission."

"Let me worry about Talia," Peter said, pleased to have found someone who was willing to use his sister's name instead of her title. "You just wait for me tomorrow morning, and I'll come."

"... alright. I'll see you tomorrow then, Peter."

"Tomorrow."

"Right. Bye."

"Farewell for now."

"Mmm. Bye." Stiles paused again, human hand gripping the edge of the entrance. "... bye."

Even once he hurried out of Peter's sight, Peter stayed right where he was, staring down the hallway with unseeing eyes. Stiles was beautiful, and there had been a glimmer of intelligence in his eyes despite the way he'd babbled mindlessly. If things went well during the tour he'd offered, perhaps Peter could solve Talia's alliance problem and catch himself a lovely mate in one fell swoop.

It was certainly something worth considering. Talia would hate the idea, and who knew how the Octarian delegation would take it - to say nothing of Stiles' family. But his sister had been after him for quite some time to settle down and choose a mate, so she could hardly complain. Hopefully his position as Talia's Left Hand would be enough to impress Stiles' family and gain their permission. So long as the next day didn't end in complete disaster, it really was an idea with a lot of merit.

If he could convince Stiles of that, Peter would be able to get his hands and mouth on Stiles just the way he wanted... and he could probably get Stiles to thoroughly mark his own skin in return with just a little encouragement. Looking down at his left wrist, Peter felt heat curling in his body at that ring of red circles Stiles had left behind. They really did look good on him, and Peter could hardly wait to get more.

~.~.~

Peter stared down at the trio of dead, gutted fish that was on the floor in front of his suite. They were strung together with a bright red spine from another fish, and between each was a carved bead made of bone. He had no idea what exactly he was supposed to make of the... gift? Warning? Threat? There wasn't anyone waiting to tell him what in the void it was supposed to be, or why someone had dumped it in front of his door. But it looked like a good deal of effort and thought had been put into it, so he gave a put-upon sigh and scooped up the present and brought it into his room for further inspection.

From the beads, he thought it was a safe bet that it had come from one of the Octarians. Perhaps Stiles would be able to tell him what it was for.

Reminded of is self-appointed task, Peter smiled and looked down at his left wrist. He was right, and a few of the marks that Stiles had left with his suckers had bruised, still starkly visible on his skin. Pleased by that, Peter had found a cuff bracelet that he could put on just below the marks, hoping that would draw some attention to them. Just to make sure, he'd taken the time to grab the inks his clan used to paint their skin - bought from humans, it was spelled to resist water, and was mostly used for special occasions. He almost never utilized them, but that morning it had felt right to decorate the back of his hand and bring swirling lines down to his wrist. Peter echoed the tattoos he'd seen on Stiles as best he could remember them, hoping the Octarian would appreciate the gesture.

All in all, he fully expected every eye to be drawn to the marks on his wrist, and he was sure he would preen every time he noticed it. He smiled down at it, pleased with himself, then swam off toward the visitor's quarters with powerful strokes of his tail. He ignored everyone that he passed, though he did spare a nod to Derek and a small smile for Cora. Thankfully he was able to avoid Talia altogether, and soon he had reached the suite that Stiles would be sharing with his fellows. Peter briefly wondered why it was that Stiles had come with them - he was clearly the youngest in the delegation, and while he was beautiful he doubted that was a reason to bring him along.

He put it from his mind as he knocked, however, intent on enjoying his time with Stiles. Before his fist connected with the door for the third time it was yanked open almost violently, and he came far too close to hitting the object of his affection. Stopping himself just in time, he turned his hand and opened his fist, turning the gesture into one where he could smoothly cup Stiles' jaw. "Good morning," he said with a smile, smoothing his thumb over Stiles' cheek.

"Good morning," Stiles echoed, eyes wide and skin flushing a sweet red. "I wasn't sure... you came."

"You didn't think I would? I do believe I'm hurt. Since we don't know each other very well I'll forgive you just this once. But Stiles - when I say I'll do something, I always follow through." A thought occurred to him, and he let himself drift a little closer to the Octarian, doing his best to contain his glee. "Did you leave me a present this morning sweetheart? Is that why you didn't think I'd come?"

"... maybe."

"The beads were lovely," he said as he searched Stiles' eyes.

"I made them when I was younger," Stiles was quick to reply, a smile hovering on his lips as one tentacle reached out toward Peter. If he nudged the appendage with his right arm to encourage the tentacle to wrap around him, that was entirely his own business. Well, it was Stiles' business too, especially since the tentacle wrapped around him with no hesitation, suckers moving over his skin almost like they were tasting him. "We all have to make at least two sets - that was my second. They aren't... they aren't as good as my friend Scott would have given you, but--"

"I don't want any beads from Scott, Stiles, no matter how lovely they are. Yours suit me just fine." Another blush fell over those pale cheeks, and Peter couldn't help but chase it with his thumb before sliding his hand down to cup the side of Stiles' neck instead. The motion drew Stiles' attention to Peter's wrist, and he saw the moment when Stiles realized what he'd done to draw attention to the marks left there.

"Peter," he said, voice sounding strangled. "You... that's..."

"I told you - I like the way you look on me." Peter told him with a shrug. "I want everyone else to see how pretty you make my skin look." Stiles made a sound that was nearly a shriek, then seemed to pull himself together. "Should I not have?" he wondered, for the first time realizing he may have crossed a line that Stiles' people found important. It was one thing to thumb his nose at Merfolk propriety; it was another to offend the people of his potential mate before they'd pledged themselves to each other. "I can wash the ink off if you--"

"No! I mean... no. It's... fine. Better than fine. Good. It's... so good. It's just hard to figure out... this would be easier if we were in my territory. I made sure it was alright to kill the fish, but--"

"Darling, if you're trying to court me I give you permission to kill whatever you need to. But first..." Peter carefully pulled away, making sure to be gentle with the tentacle wrapped around his right forearm. When he did, there were marks left behind, but they weren't anywhere near as dark or satisfying as the ones that had decorated his wrist. Swiftly hiding his disappointment, Peter bowed the way he'd seen humans do, then offered Stiles that arm. "I owe you a tour, I believe. Come while the day away with me."

Stiles grinned and took his arm, making sure to shut the door behind him as they left. Almost immediately the Octarian launched into a series of rapid-fire questions about Merfolk, Peter's home, and Peter himself. His questions were as delightful as Stiles himself was, showing a great deal of intelligence and wit. When he wasn't blushing and stammering because of their flirtations, Stiles was also excellent at responding to Peter's biting sarcasm with more of the same.

Peter was mer enough to admit he was smitten. Even if Talia forbade it, even if it didn't help secure the alliance, he was going to have Stiles as his mate. They'd spent the whole day together and Peter hadn't found himself bored even once. Better still, Stiles' tentacles and their suckers had kept up a light but constant exploration of him, moving over his scales and skin in equal measure. It was rare for Peter to be touched in his day-to-day life - he hadn't known how much he missed it until Stiles.

He had a feeling that he would be saying that about a lot of things in his future.

~.~.~

Well before Peter would have started the next day, he was yanked from his dreams by the sound of someone pounding thunderously on his door. Certain it was his sister, come to ruin his happiness from the day before, he didn't exactly rush to answer it... and was taken aback completely when the door slammed open before he reached it. Before his sleep-slow brain could process what was going on, each of his arms was held tight by a set of tentacles - neither belonged to Stiles, and Peter found the situation intolerable.

"What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed, tail thrashing and revealing his agitation. It took all his willpower to keep from fighting against his captors right away; instead he forced the rest of his body to go slack. If they thought he was submitting, he might find it easier to escape their hold should he really need to. The leader of the Octarians - John, Talia had told Peter that his name was John - no longer looked stern and noble. Instead fear and rage were mingled in his expression while washes of a bright yellow ran over his usually tan lower body. The vivid warning color made the Octarian's bright blue rings stand out even more, and Peter found himself certain that John was hanging on by a thread.

"Where is my son?!" John was even louder than Peter had been, human fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Like Peter's, his lower body was an even clearer indication of how upset he was, tentacles curling into themselves before lashing out - if one managed to hit him, Peter had no doubt that it would be extremely painful. As the Octarian's words penetrated, Peter found himself at a loss. John had a son? A son he'd brought to this meeting? He hadn't known that, didn't know why they would think he knew anything about-- "Where is Stiles?!"

Shit.

"What do you mean, where is he? Did something happen?" Peter tried to move forward, but was held fast by the other two Octarians. He didn't even try to keep from snarling at the one on his left, but even the way the other winced back wasn't enough to mollify him. "I left him last night in the guest quarters. I was supposed to see him later today."

John was scowling as he watched Peter, but after a few moments he waved a hand and Peter was released. He hated the light suction marks they had left on his skin, and the two Octarians should pray they disappeared before he saw Stiles again. If his mate-to-be suspected him of any kind of unfaithfulness, Peter would gut the both of them.

"He was gone when I woke this morning," John said, beginning to move back and forth in the water, tentacles still barely under control. "I thought... I had hoped he snuck away to be with the Mer that he had been gushing over. He gave you fish and beads," John added in a mutter, running a hand through his hair. "I thought for sure he would... you really haven't seen him?"

"No," Peter said shortly, refusing to be worried just yet. He needed to stay as calm and collected as he could - he would give into the urge to worry and turn hysterical once Stiles was found. Then he would either kiss the Octarian senseless or strangle him, whichever was most appropriate. "Have you told my sister? Talia could--"

"You're Talia's brother?"

"And you're Stiles' father," Peter knew his voice was terse, but there was no helping that. As he spoke he was headed for his door, itching to put a plan in motion to find Stiles. "Clearly there are things we should have spoken of, but now is not the time. You have no idea where he could have gone?"

"No."

Peter didn't growl at Stiles' father, but it was a near thing. How could he have lost Stiles? He refused to talk to the Octarian as they moved, too busy trying to put a plan of action together. He didn't want to draw the attention of his entire clan, not with an alliance and Stiles at stake. There were some Merfolk that he wouldn't trust not to overreact - they would decide Stiles was a spy of some kind and might hurt the Octarian he wanted to take as his mate. Talia would have to be told, unfortunately, and then she'd stick her nose into his courtship which he wasn't looking forward to. Still, the warriors that he did trust to take the task of searching for his mate seriously all answered to her or his nephew.

Which meant he'd have to get Derek involved, which would intrigue Cora and Laura, and soon the entirety of his nosy, annoying family would be involved. Marvelous.

Despite the reluctance part of him felt, Peter sent the first mer they came across to fetch his nephew to Talia's chambers immediately. John frowned over at him, and he held back a sneer in return. He needed to make nice with Stiles' family, especially since their courtship hadn't been completed yet. Beyond that, the Octarian looked to be hanging on to his temper by a thin thread, and he had no doubt John wouldn't have a problem lashing out in his anger. It was a trait he admired in his people as much as Talia found it distasteful.

He hadn't wondered if the alliance was really a good idea for his own sake.

By the time Peter and his Octarian escort arrived at his sister's chambers, Derek was hovering by the door. His heavy brows were drawn into a frown, though one arched in a silent question once he caught sight of Peter. His nephews eyebrows said more than the dear boy ever managed with his mouth.

"My son is missing," John snapped instead of letting Peter answer. "If I find out your people know where he is--"

"I can assure you that we had nothing to do with it," Peter interrupted in his 'I'm very diplomatic' voice. "If even a hint of something like that had reached my ears, I'd have killed the one doing the whispering. Talia!" he called as he threw open the doors to her room - she'd know they were there, and this was no time to stand on ceremony.

His sister was scowling as she swam up to him, hair still mussed from sleep and none of her usual finery in place. "Peter. What is the meaning of this?"

"Stiles - my son - is missing," John said yet again, starting to go quiet in his anger. That worried Peter, and he did hope that this wouldn't turn into a diplomatic incident. For all that Talia and most of their clan considered them savages, Peter doubted they could stand against the Octarians if they found a reason to go to war. "I want him found, and I want an explanation - you assured me that we would be safe here, that no one would move against us--"

"None of my people had anything to do with this," Talia interrupted, and another wash of violent yellow ran over John's lower body. Peter thought if another person didn't let him finish the Octarian was going to do some damage. "Peter, why are you here?"

"Stiles has - apparently - initiated a courtship with your brother," John said, terse and to the point. "I had... hoped," he continued, though the grimace that accompanied the word indicated that he'd felt something completely different. "That I would find them together in Peter's room. Instead my son is missing, and I demand your aid to find him."

"Peter, you--" Talia stopped herself and shot him a look that meant trouble later, while Derek looked almost happy with surprise. It was strange to see his face without a sullen glower on it. "I apologize, John. Now isn't the time. Of course we will assist you. I assume you have an idea of where to start, Peter."

"Only who we should send. If word of this spreads, we may lose control of the situation. Derek, if you would be so kind as to lend me Boyd, Erica and Isaac I would very much appreciate it. Just do remind Erica to keep her mouth shut for the time being. And Talia, I believe we should use your honor guard - they would die before they betrayed your trust. Did Stiles say anything last night that gave any sort of clue as to where he might be?"

"No. He spoke only of you, and how he wished he'd been able to find something more impressive to offer you than mere fish."

"I liked the fish," Peter said, frowning at his mate's apparent insecurity. "He managed to catch my favorite." Peter had planned to prepare the both of them a meal using the gift for lunch, one of the first steps in the courtship dance of his own people. If Stiles didn't manage to come back to him before the midday meal, Peter was going to be rather cross with him.

"Stiles worries," John said, sounding both fond and exasperated. "If no one abducted him, I'm sure that after you parted ways he talked himself into thinking that you found his offering to be lacking. Once he gets his mind set on something... well. It is possible that he managed to sneak out," John allowed, looking unhappy at the admission that there might have been no wrongdoing on the part of the Merfolk.

"Excuse me," Derek's voice was unexpected, which meant it was probably something important. Peter turned toward him and made a gesture for him to continue, and his nephew did so with heavy brows. "But I don't know much of your rituals. Does Stiles need to hunt something to present to Peter for the first step of courtship?"

"In a manner of speaking. Usually we try to hunt a more dangerous creature to prove that we are capable of protecting our mates and any children that come from the union. However, if we are in an area where that's impossible or if an Octarian is a poor hunter, they may choose to hunt a prey animal instead to prove that they can still provide."

"Stiles was disappointed that he could only give me fish," Peter remembered suddenly. "He was worried about hunting things he wasn't supposed to in our territory. I... I gave him permission to kill whatever he needed to. I was jesting, but--"

"Well... shit," John said quietly, running a hand through his hair. "So he probably went off hunting, on his own, in unfamiliar territory looking for something dangerous. Lovely."

"I think... it might be worse," Derek murmured, reluctant as always to give his words away. "Stiles is... he is the one with the red markings on his human half, isn't he?" Peter saw just a hint of red dusting his nephew's cheeks and he didn't even try to keep himself from growling. Derek just rolled his eyes, eyebrows drawing even closer together. "I was talking with Cora and Boyd about the recent increase of invasions from the creatures of the abyss. He... may have heard. If he's so determined to impress uncle Peter...."

Dread swamped him, turning his human parts cold as the arctic sea. Even the least of the infernal beings was a monster, and facing one alone was akin to suicide. If Stiles ran into one of the larger, more dangerous creatures.... Peter propelled himself backwards until he hit the wall, using it to support himself as he tried to think. John had wave after wave of yellow washing over his tentacles, while the other two Octarians were changing colors as well. John and Talia were barking orders to their respective people, while Derek left to get Boyd, Erica and Isaac. On his way out he took just a moment to stop at Peter's side and give his shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze.

His mate was out there hunting monsters born from darkness and nightmares, and Stiles was doing it to impress him. Peter was going to strangle the idiot once he returned, he decided as everyone but he and his sister left the room. He wouldn't kill Stiles, because many of the preparations he'd made to cheat death would work only for him, but he might maim the Octarian. His stupid, reckless mate deserved nothing less, and if he got hurt during this ridiculous attempt to win his hand, Peter would make him grovel for forgiveness.

Well, after he nursed Stiles back to health. Yelling at and strangling him would be far less satisfying if Stiles was already injured.

Making the decision that he'd let himself be weak for long enough, Peter took a breath and pulled himself together. Almost as soon as he'd left the support of the wall behind, however, Talia was on him. "An Octarian, Peter? Really? I have brought mer after mer to you, ones who were accomplished, refined and beautiful - some from clans even wealthier than ours! - and you spurned every single one of them--"

"They were boring," Peter said, eyes narrowing in a warning Talia was almost certain to ignore. "Most of them were also stupid or complacent. Stiles is far more beautiful than any of them ever were, and his mind is absolutely fascinating. So no, not an Octarian - I want Stiles. I don't know why you're getting into a snit, sister," he continued with a growl when Talia opened her mouth to argue. "This will probably help you get your alliance, though I had no idea Stiles was John's son. Though I had wondered why someone so young had joined the delegation... but none of that matters. Not until he's found and brought safely back here where I can maim him myself."

"Hmph. You call our people stupid. At least none of us would be so foolish as to--"

"I would think very, very carefully about the words leaving your mouth, sister dearest. Stiles will be my mate, so long as John doesn't forbid it. If you think I'll let you or anyone speak ill of him..." Peter trailed off, then gave Talia a smile that made her shiver and move back just a little bit. "Your position means nothing when it comes to him. If you can't keep a civil tongue in your head then I'll be happy to rip it out."

With that, he swept out of her chambers, heading for his own as swiftly as he could manage without rousing suspicion. Once he'd gotten there, he went straight for his armor - he had no intention of sitting at home flipping his fins while others searched for his mate. His chest piece had been made of the scales from the very monsters Stiles had gone hunting, given to a master blacksmith on the surface to turn into a protective work of art.

It was nearly impenetrable, black with a sheen of colors dancing over the surface like oil on water. It included a pauldron that covered his left shoulder in the shape of a leviathan, with it's eyes done in jewels that were the same color as Peter's eyes. The guards he pulled onto his forearms were far less intricate and far more flexible, giving him the dexterity he needed to wield the daggers he preferred. As soon as the belt that held six of them was strapped around his waist, Peter was off, headed for the place where they'd all agreed to meet.

If Talia or John thought to keep him out of this, he would stab first and ask for 'permission' later.

Thankfully Stiles' father did no such thing. Indeed, he and the other Octarians with him were kitted out in much the same fashion as Peter, though his weapon of choice was a spear. When he saw Peter approach, something close to respect and acceptance crossed his face, and the nod he gave was one of approval. Peter knew that many other underwater denizens considered his people soft, and they weren't entirely wrong. He was, however, happy to prove that not all Merfolk were content to stay in their shelters and let others protect them.

Once Derek joined them with his three underlings and Talia's honor guard, they spoke briefly to make a plan. Peter ended up in 'command' of two Octarians and Erica - it had been decided that breaking into groups that included both peoples was the best option. The Octarians were more battle-hardened, while the Merfolk knew their territory and the best ways to fight the beasts that rose from the darkest depths. Hopefully the mixed groups would be able to cover more ground and come back safely.

As they left their shelter, Peter swore once again that he would never forgive Stiles if he got hurt. Peter was already impressed, already determined to make Stiles his, after all. There was nothing that could make him change his mind... not even the realization that his mate was just a little bit stupid.

~.~.~

Peter wasn't the one who found Stiles.

Erica and the Octarians - Jordan and Liam - had done well despite that. They'd run into a few small threats and gotten through them all with nothing more than a few small cuts and bruises. The Octarians had impressed him quite a bit, and he'd been pleased with the way Erica was completely willing to work with them, adapting the way she fought to accommodate and compliment their own styles. It had reinforced the benefits of the alliance in Peter's mind, and if his sister found a way to fuck it up he was going to seriously consider a coup.

One of the last pitfalls they faced was a shark - aging and scarred from a life well lived, she wouldn't stop attacking until Peter finally ended her pain. She had gotten a few good smacks in with her tail, and his ribs felt bruised and tender as the four of them worked together to bring the carcass home. While his clan didn't often seek out shark, it would provide quite a bit of food, along with teeth and other things they could use. It would have been a waste to let the carcass rot in the water, and they'd been out long enough that Peter thought it best they check in to see if anything had changed.

On reaching the outer wall of the settlement, however, he saw that their catch was not going to be the big news of the day.

Someone had killed a druaqon. Though they weren't the largest of the dark creatures by far, they were still vicious and difficult to bring down without a solid plan and, preferably, at least three Merfolk. Peter very much doubted that any mer at all had been involved in the slaying of this particular brute, however. Not with Stiles standing proudly next to it, a spear dripping with black ichor; some of it was also smeared on his arms and in a long line down his back. Along that same line were large welts where the creature had gotten Stiles. Peter knew from experience that they were painful, and fully intended to sit his idiot mate down as soon as possible so he could care for them.

"Erica?" he murmured, eyes fixed on the wonderfully stupid Octarian he fully planned on twining his life with. "Could you please go to Deaton and ensure that a batch of the antidote for druaqon venom is being made? If no one had the brains to request it before I arrived, have him start one."

"So that's your mate, huh?" she said, voice heavy with interest and suggestion. "I can see why you like him so much Peter." When he slanted a look her way, she was grinning. As soon as he growled, the little minx winked at him, then flitted off to Deaton as he'd asked.

"Brat," he muttered before looking over to his Octarian helpers. "We can leave the shark here - the kitchens will come to retrieve the meat. I think we'd best go see how much trouble my mate is in."

"You two aren't even--"

"Shut up," Jordan interrupted before Peter could, elbowing Liam in the gut as he spoke. "Stiles went and killed a monster for him, and Peter was ready to kill one to keep Stiles safe. I have a feeling that if either John or Talia try to get in the way of this match they'll be the ones who ended up backing down."

"Of course they would," Peter said with a smile, deciding that he liked Jordan but would happily stab Liam a few times - though in non-fatal spots, since he had done well against the shark. "My sister knows better than to stand in my way when I want something... and right now I very much want Stiles." Octarians were stronger but Mers were faster. It was easy to put on a bit of speed and leave his temporary companions behind.

As soon as he was in earshot, he could hear John shouting at Stiles. Underneath the anger was a layer of fear and just a hint of pride; Peter hoped Stiles would take all three emotions to heart. He was also a little upset that John was the one doing the yelling, if he were honest with himself. Nothing between him and Stiles was official, as Liam had reminded him, so he had no true claim to be the one doing the shouting. He'd been afraid for his mate and angry that Stiles had so foolishly struck out on his own - he wanted to be the one threatening to wring Stiles' neck. But his father did still have first rights to that, unfortunately, so Peter supposed that for now he would play the supportive mate and save the scolding for later when they were alone.

In that spirit, Peter slid up to Stiles' side from behind, splaying his hand over Stiles' lower back where there were no welts. Stiles, who had been staring defiantly at his father, startled and then looked over at Peter. Instantly his expression melted to one of pride and pleasure, and Peter was suddenly hard pressed to be all that angry with him. "I found something better than fish," he declared, waving a hand at the dead druaqon. "I'm supposed to give you another set of beads, since my first offering was unworthy--"

"It was not," Peter interrupted, offended on his mate's behalf. "I was perfectly happy to accept those fish, Stiles. I had planned on using them to make the both of us a meal as my own first courting gift, but that's been rather ruined, I think." Stiles' face fell, and the proud set of his shoulders slid into a slump. Peter told himself to remain firm - he had a reputation to uphold, and all the gathered Merfolk could not be permitted to see how easily Stiles had wrapped Peter around his little finger. "I hope you will accept the shark I slew with some assistance from two of your people and one of mine."

There. That wasn't too soft of him, but it still brought some of the light back to Stiles' eyes. "You killed a shark for me?"

"Mm. Well, I killed it while searching the ocean for my intended mate, who vanished without a trace, telling no one of his destination. During that rather frantic attempt to find him--"

"I get the point, Peter."

"Oh, I very much doubt that. Regardless, the shark was killed during an effort to protect you, and I can prepare a meal just as well from it instead of your fish. I don't need another set of beads either, Stiles," he said as he leaned in to casually drag his cheek over Stiles' jaw. Peter was deeply pleased when two of Stiles' tentacles immediately began touching Peter. The tip of one was exploring the scales of Peter's tail, while the other wrapped around his waist from behind, curling around his side to rest on his chest as well. He could already feel the way Stiles' suckers were marking his skin, and he preened at the further evidence that his mate had chosen him back.

"This is all very sweet," John broke in suddenly, sounding exasperated, angry and fond. Peter had a feeling that combination of emotions might be common around Stiles. "But that was still an incredibly stupid thing to do, Stiles. I don't have words to express how stupid it was. Anything could have happened to you, and we probably wouldn't have even been able to find the body!" Stiles did flinch back at that, and Peter couldn't help but pull the Octarian protectively against his side. "You don't get to do that to me, kid," John said, suddenly sounding exhausted. "You don't."

"Sorry dad," Stiles said softly.

"I know. That doesn't make it better. And that doesn't even begin to address this... this... this!" John added, gesturing to where Peter and Stiles were connected. "What is this?"

"We're courting," Peter said smoothly, stalling Stiles' attempt to answer. From the way Stiles had gone rigid against him, he had a feeling whatever Stiles said wouldn't be helpful. "But I think any discussion of that can wait until after my mate's--"

"You're not mated yet!"

"Details," Peter said, waving the concern away. "Stiles is injured, is my point, and any discussion of our courtship can wait until they have been tended. Deaton should be finished with his concoction by now," Peter murmured, turning his head to speak the words against Stiles' temple. "Will you let me tend to you?"

The blush that graced Stiles' cheeks was both adorable and delicious, and Peter had absolutely no choice but to press a kiss to that rosy skin. "That sounds good. Nice. Yeah, let's do that. Hey daddy-o, as much fun as this has been, I'm going to let my mate--"

"You're not--"

"Why is everyone so worried about the formalities?" Stiles complained, plush lower lip pushing out in a pout. "We've done the first step of a courtship, which were actually the same which is nice, because we haven't talked about the differences between how my people court and how you Mers do it," he said, blinking at the realization. "Peter, why haven't we talked about that?"

"Because I woke up yesterday to find fish waiting for me in front of my door," he reminded the younger male, chuckling as an even darker blush washed over his face. "We'd only spoken once - I had intended to wait a little longer before offering you a token of my intent. You beat me to it, darling."

"Oh. Right."

When Peter glanced at John, he looked utterly resigned even with one hand covering his eyes. "Stiles," John said on a sigh before looking up at the pair of them. "I ought to lock you in your room until we leave. But you'd only find a way to wiggle your way out and find Peter despite it. So fine, go. You have my blessing. Just try not to skip any courtship steps, please, for my sake. Oh, and I expect you to come stay with my tribe soon, Peter - I won't have you two formally mating until that happens."

"Of course. I'd planned on doing just that."

"Good. Now go take care of my boy."

"Yes sir."

Peter ignored the commotion that was starting as more and more Merfolk learned what had happened. He breezed right past Talia without a word, guiding Stiles with a firm but gentle hand on the small of his back. By the time they neared Peter's room, Stiles was clearly beginning to feel the pain. The Octarian didn't say a word about it, however, choosing instead to bite his lower lip until it turned white and Peter began to fear that he'd bite right through it. The tentacles on Peter were also tightening, and he was sure he'd have dark bruises left behind by Stiles' suckers. While he wasn't opposed to that result, he was less than pleased with the cause behind them.

"Is your back the only place that's injured?" Peter asked, unable to help how terse he sounded.

"Yeah." Stiles looked over at him as they entered Peter's room, looking truly uncertain for the first time that Peter could remember. "You're angry with me, aren't you? I didn't mean to make you and dad worry, I swear. I meant to be back before anyone even knew I was gone. Not that that makes it better, probably, but I didn't think it would take so long. And I wasn't trying to find a creature from the abyss either, exactly, it just sort of... happened. I think it was injured or really young or something though, because it was moving really slow and it was pretty clumsy. I kind of thought I was going to die when I accidentally met up with it," he admitted, flinching at the wounded sound that escaped Peter's throat. He kept talking though, even as he laid on his stomach on Peter's bed. "I mean! I was hoping I could run away? Yeah, I was going to run away, definitely. I didn't just charge in or anything. Nope. Not me."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn't helping."

"Oh. Sorry?"

They were interrupted by the arrival of Erica, who passed over the salve Deaton had made. She left with a lascivious wink, which made Peter roll his eyes. Curling up on the bed at Stiles' side, he gently washed away the ichor staining his mate's skin before beginning to apply Deaton's creation to the welts. Stiles did not take the application in a calm, stoic manner - the idiot whined and complained the whole time. It made caring for him less enjoyable and intimate, and Peter really was close to strangling him before the end.

The way Peter remained completely smitten despite that spoke to how wonderful his mate was.

After shucking his armor - he would clean and polish it later - Peter joined Stiles in the bed. It wasn't strictly appropriate, but they were courting. And considering the events of the day, Peter was fairly certain that they would be mated sooner rather than later and that no one would be able to stop their union. Not when they were so well matched and not when it would solidify ties between their two peoples. Besides, Peter had a feeling John would be hard pressed to find anyone else so willing and eager to take Stiles off his hands.

Stiles squirmed and wriggled and chatted for a ridiculous length of time before Peter huffed and dragged the idiot closer. Then the both of them were struggling to find a comfortable position, which was only made more difficult by the way Stiles' only option was to stay on his stomach. Eventually - finally - they settled with Peter on his back and Stiles draped half over him. It felt like he had tentacles everywhere, wrapped around his tail, torso and one of his arms. He couldn't wrap his arms around Stiles for fear of disturbing his injuries and the salve working to heal them, which meant he had to let both of them lay in a fairly uncomfortable position for far too long. Stiles' face was smashed against the side of his neck, where he'd probably start drooling and he was already snoring. He was too hot, too crowded, and too aware of Stiles to fall asleep with his usual ease.

Peter was certain he'd never been more content in his life.

[hardt4rein]

Dally x Reader x Two-Bit

This is my first ever fanfic and it may be bad there also might be mistakes or run on sentences. I just hope you enjoy. Disclaimer this is a smut so beware you have been warned hope you will enjoy.

You are 15 years old and are walking down the street to Ponyboy's house. You new that it wasn't safe walking alone. Especially if your best friends with Pony's gang but you were strong and smart and was walking very fast so you was ok for the mean while. You finally reach the Curtis house.

"WASSUP BITCHES" you say to who ever was in the house, but you soon found out that you were just with Two-Bit and Dally. Oh man did Dally do things to you but you were smart knowing that if you was to look up one night stand or fuckboy in the dictionary you would get a picture of Dallas Winston. Now Two-Bit was a different case you guys were always friends and you always thought he was cute but he did get annoying at times when he would make jokes about you liking Dally. Which of course you said it wasn't true but your heat said other wise.

"Watchin Mickey, and im not a dog im a human boy" Two-bit remarked and you just kinda glared at him. Yup hes soo drunk you thought to yourself as you see the evidence of beer bottles around him. "Smokin" Dally replied rather quickly, you noticed the way he was looking you up and down even though thats just a normal Dally thing he seemed more into it today. Dally had just recently had broken up with his sluty ex girlfriend Sylvia, just thinking about her name made your blood boil that she would cheat on this beautiful looking specimen.

As you was just looking in between the two hottest boys in the gang you think that maybe its time for you to stop staring and to do your homework. As you start taking a out your work Dally asks you " Isnt there funner things you rather do than do your homework" you just look up from your work "First off funner isnt a word and second i need to get it out of the way if i want to do anything fun". You drew your attention away from Dallas for a bit " Speaking of homework should you be doing yours Keith" you heard a loud groan coming from no other than Two-Bit " III did it in schooools give me a break". "Wow thats new, Two-Bit did his homework before the good girl did" Dallas said putting on one of his famous smirks. " First off i did most if my homework in school im just finishing up some questions i didnt get to complete" you said staring at him chewing on the inside of your cheek. You hurried up and finished the last few problems and started packing up your supplies when you saw the two boys look at each other and grin. Dally puts out his cigarette on a near by ash tray. You raised an eyebrow utterly confused as Dally moved to the couch that you were sitting on, Two-Bit just watch with that dumb smile on his lips which you had grown to love.

"So doll now that your done with your homework how about a little bit of fun" Dally said that smirk never leaving his face, "What kind of fun do you have in mind" you asked you had a feeling of what it could be or maybe it wasn't you couldn't tell with Dally. He pick you up and sat you down in his lap which caused your face to turn as red as a tomato. While in his lap he edged his face closer to yours and your getting excited but also nervous but before you knew it Dallas was already kissing you.

Dallas had a his hands tightly around your body, as he kissed your plump lips slowly. His lips tasted like strawberries, which make the taste addictive. Two- Bit smirked, enjoying the view and came over to you and Dallas. Two-Bit pushed your hair back and started to leave very dark love bites on your skin. You let out a loud moan, which triggered Dallas and Two-Bit to gets excited.

Dallas licked your lower lip asking for entrance but when you didnt get the memo he squeezed your ass making you moan and opening your mouth a bit, he slid his tongue into your mouth and you two started french kiss on the couch.

"Let me get a turn" Two-Bit whined, Dally released your lips and picked you up to turn you towards Two-Bit. Dally being the very skilled person he is used his time wisely to start getting undressed as you and Two were going at it. Two was a little different feeling from Dally, Dally was rough, hard and needy but Two was still pretty rough not as rough as Dally and he also was very playful. Plus the taste of beer on his lips adding a new taste into the kiss.

As you two broke apart gasping for oxygen, Dally sees this as a opportunity to undress you so he does just that. Once he gets to unclipping your bra thats when you think that this is seriously real and that anyone could walk into that door at any moment which added some more adrenaline into the whole mix. " I though Dallas Winston doesnt share" you said in between gasps, "I usually dont bu-" Dally gets cut of by Two "Were trying to see which one of us you like more so you can go out with one if us". " Oh really now, but what if i dont choose either of you" you asked in a playful tone, " Then i guess were gonna have to keep doing this to until you choose" Dallas said while smirking that sexy smirk.

You grinned at Dallas when he said that, you wouldnt mind having sex with the two hottest guys in the group but the bad thing is that they are very possessive and get jealous easily especially Dally. You decide to turn the tables and you started to tease them. You were sitting on Two-Bit laps kissing him with such a lust and such a passion, you slipped your right hand under Dally's boxers and started to stroke him. In that action that caused him to give out a low breathe moan. And boy did that turn you on. You got off Two-Bit's lap and helped pull off both of the boys underwear's. You were sitting on your knees on the floor looking at both of their sizes and Dally's was a tad bit bigger. Just from looking at it Dally was about a 12in and Two-Bit a 10in and they were both pretty thicc. Both of the boys looked at your face and you dont know what face you was making but you were just staring at their boners.

"Um (y/n) are you ok?" Two-Bit ask very concerned. Dally looked at you studying your face "Your a virgin aren't you" Dally asked that smirk never leaving his face. You nodded slightly, you was thinking man am I seriously about to let this happen im 15 and im about to get fucked by a 18 year old and a 17 year old. They are basically adults and your not even 16 yet. Your mom would freak if she found out what you were doing.

You came back from your thoughts as your heard them arguing over who gets to take your virginity. "I shouuuld do it im the oldest and i never got to take a girrrrls Virginia before" Two-Bit slurred "You mean virginity" you corrected Two-Bit "Wow your 18 and you having taken someone's virginity before thats sad" Dallas remarked "And besides im more skilled in this kind of thing" Dallas gave Two-Bit a look of victory when you budded in " How about both at the same time" you asked meekly.

The boys stared at you in disbelief. "Both of us, on your first timmme???" Two-Bit couldnt rap his head around why on earth would you want that. You couldn't believe that the smirk on Dally's face could get any wider oh but it did. "I see that someone is feisty" Dally pinched your nipple and hummed at the at the moan you let out. "Ok how about we let her decide as to who's gonna take her virginity" Two-Bit asked staring at your naked form. "How about we make this a game who ever cums first is the one to take away her virginity" Dally declared, " Alright but if she cums first  then we can both say we still taken it from her" Two-Bit said.

You could tell that Dally like your feistiness so he patted the couch and you climb on the couch so that your knees were on the couch seats but your elbows on the top of the couch. " Wait we dont have cond-" you tried to say before Two-Bit enters you making you lose your train of thought as the excruciating pain that was in your heat area. Dally grabbed his belt tying it around your hands as he enters shortly after Two-Bit did.You could tell Dally was getting impatient and he started to move and boy did it hurt the both of them in your tight untouched pussy.

"Take it easy now Dal shes a newbie and you might rip her walls" Two-Bit did sound kind of concern. " Nah she'll be fine besides with the both if us in here she gonna adjust quicker i think" Dally said pretty confident. After Dally hitting your g-spot and Two-Bit staring to move you adjusted and man did it feel soooo gud

Dally was more focused on trying to nut in you than Two-Bit was, now as for Two-Bit while he was fucking you he was also exploring your body. All you could hear in the Curtis house was the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin and the sounds of your beautiful moans you three were making.

After a while of the constant stimulation your body couldn't handle it you just bit your lips so hard to the point where it draws blood. Dally grabs your hair that you had neatly put into a ponytail yanking your head back. " Im gonna c-" you couldn't even finish your sentence when you came all over Dally and Two-Bit. Because of you coming that made Dally pull out and stuck his cock into your mouth sending his hit seed deep into your mouth with his seed settling in your empty stomach. While Two-Bit waited his turn to get your mouth he continued pounding into you and grabbed the beer he didnt finish drinking earlier. Dally was taking way to long in your mouth so he decided to pull out and stick his hard cock inside your butt hole and came in there.

Both of the guys ridding out their organs in your mouth and asshole. They both pulled out and you laid there in the couch. " That was sooooo gud" Two-Bit said taking another sip of his beer. You wanted to lay their until you recovered but Dally thought otherwise, " You look sexy laying there and all but you have to get dressed" Dally said to you while putting on his underwear and pants. You groaned but complied pulling on your clothes as you look back to see a sleeping Two-Bit on the couch.

"Aww look how cute" you said watching his sleeping form as you put on your clothes. Both you and Dally heard a car pull up in the driveway and you panicked you hurried shaking Two-Bit to wake up. Gathering up his clothes and putting them in his hands as you pushed him to the bathroom. When he was in the bathroom you ran back to sit on the couch and try to look normal. "Were back" you heard Darry say " What is that smell" Ponyboy said grabbing the bridge of his nose. " It smells like sex in here" Steve said while walking in. Soda looked you at the both of you and narrowed his eyes "OHHHHHHhhhhh you two FUCKED!!" Soda said while raising his voice. "Ew no thats just the smell of Dallas's smoking" you said trying to lie and hurry to cover up them finding out. Everyone turns their attention to Two-Bit who walks out the bathroom fully dressed. " Keith why are your pants on backwards" Darry asked narrowing his eyes. " Oh shit all three of them fucked" Steve said as him and Soda started playfully punching each other.

"Um ew no first off im not gonna be a fuckgirl and fuck two guys at the same time secondly its Dallas Winston i dont want to be added to the list of girls he has fucked and thirdly why on earth would i fuck Two-Bit like come on he's Two-Bit. "Hey whats that's supposed to mean Two-Bit said sitting in between all his empty beer bottles and his pants are still backwards. "Keith what the fuck clean up after your self this isnt your house you cant just leave it a mess" Darry almost practically screamed at him.

"Your not my moooom" Two-But said before passing out on the floor. "Sooo where did you guys go" you asked trying to clear the tension. "Me Darry and Steve were all at work" Soda explained. " Me and Johnny went to the movies we saw IT" Ponyboy said. " Aww i wanted to see IT i guess ima have to go" you said pretend to be sad even though you kind of was. " Awe dont worry doll ill take ya" Dally said budding in while lighting a cigarette "Thx and Two-Bit can come to hes been roasting that clown all week" you said think about watching the movie then going to Buck's to hang out with them if ya know what i mean.

"Anyways ima go home guys" you said wanted to go to get cleaned up as you have soiled your underwear. As you was walking out the door you heard a string of goodbyes and you pulled your phone out your pocket. You went to messages and started a group chat called  " The three musketeers" that had Dally and Two-Bit in it."Had fun hope to do it again sometimes 😏😝😘" you typed and pushed send as you walked down the street towards your house. Smiling to your self.

[pony-and-soda]

hey queen! could i have a hc for the gang dating a horseback rider please? thanks girl! i love you ❤️

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH SINCE I RIDE HORSES SO THIS HAS SUCH A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART TY BBYPonyboy:• would unironically be made fun of for his name (mostly playfully) by the other riders at your stable• would love to just come out and watch you jump and just like watch you practice• would try to brush your horse but your horse didn't really like him that much lol• like he would always try to warm up to it since riding was such a big part of your life, but ultimately fail• tbh pony isn't really an animal guy• would always ask you how to put on the saddle and bridle and literally make you do it over and over again so he could learn• this only deepened your horse's disliking to pony• would be at every single competition and show• he would be sooooo excited for you when you successfully did something at a comp/show that you worked really hard on and we're super nervous about it like he would be sO HAPPY• always would be trying to help you around the barn• like making sure the horses have your food and stuff and helping you wash them and it would be so sweet :)))Sodapop:• literally ALL of the riders at your stable gushed over soda• even the straight male ones• they did not care• "is soda coming to practice?"• "is soda going to the show?"• "is soda coming? I want to show him my perfected canter transition!"• (idk if you do English but that's what I do so that's kinda what I'm writing from lol)• literally you never got jealous since you knew they literally just wanted to impress him just bc he's sodapop• he would literally be OBSESSED when he found out you rode• like bc of Mickey Mouse he had such a soft spot for horses so he thoroughly enjoyed being at the stables• every single horse liked him• every. single. one.• he was a horse magnet• HE WAS SUCH A NATURAL OMG• he loved watching you ride, and lowkey wanted to start taking lessons• but he mainly just liked horses in general, not necessarily riding them• would literally just chill with all the horses in the paddock while you practiced jumps and groundwork and all that jazz• would be so proud of you when you did a really good job at a competition aWwDarry:• would always be asked by the owner of the stables to help out since he's so muscular• (lol there's this really muscular guy that works at my barn who reminds me of darry so much omg)• he would always help out, but never for pay• he genuinely just liked the atmosphere• like Darry doesn't strike me as an animal person, but I think he would like the nitty-gritty vibe• he would be sO freakin mad if he stepped in poop• "y/n, these are my work boots!1! How am I supposed to go to work tomorrow?!1!"• "idk, clean them????"• he was such a pouter• he and your horse had a mutual hatred for each other that was so passionate it was almost a friendship• like your horse would neigh and throw back its head and back from him an stuff and Darry would give it the diRTIEST looks but then you'd also catch him petting your horse from time to time• but neither of them looked like they were enjoying it• would freakin rebuild the barn for no pay like no doubt• couldn't go to every comp or show bc of work but would always make sure either soda or pony went in support :)Dally:• he HATED your horse• but it LOVED him• like your horse would always nuzzle its head into dally's tummy or like nudge dally's arm to let it but he would freakin get so annoyed• "stop it, beast"• you'd get so offended bc you knew he meant every mean thing he said• Dallas did not care he hated your horse• but he actually really liked the fact that your did horseback riding• like he would always be chillin on a bucket at the stables while you groomed your horse like he just liked being there• while you were racking up your horse he'd be like "what is that mess you got there?"• you would sit there and explain it to him and he'd be super interested but wouldn't let on that he was too much• he'd be smoking while watching you ride and your instructor would have to tell him to stop and he'd be like "make me"• he got kicked out• would take you out to the dingo every like Friday or something after practice• ^^ a great example of why I personally think that dally would be a really great boyfriend without thinking twice about it• like this was just a casual thing between y'all but he still thought he was heartless• you knew he wasn't though, but you never said anything• competitions/shows weren't exactly his thing, but he came to all the ones he could• he was actually really supportive of you :)Johnny:• literally was so interested in it• like he wanted to know all the facts about horses and riding that he could contain• like he would always ask you questions• "y/n, what kind of horse is this?"• (PLS IMAGINE RAPLH MACCHIO WALKIN AROUND A STABLE SAYING THIS WHAT A THOUGHT)• "how do you make a routine for a horse?"• "how much food do you feed it?"• lived for watching you jump• his heart would skip a beat every time you went for a really high one• literally never doubted your ability• like it even in the back of his mind or secretly doubted you like he literally thought you were the freakin best equestrian to ever walk the earth• lowkey liked to braid your horse's mane and tail (only after you taught him of course!)• he would always walk around the stables into the stalls and just smiling at the horses and watching them with wonderment• he loved horses sm what a precious babeTwo Bit:• he LOVED that you rode horses• two is def an animal guy so he was running around the barn, petting all the horses and getting them riled up• all the other riders over when you brought two bit to competitions and shows and even just around the barn bc he always lifted people's moods so much• would cheer SO LOUDLY at comps/shows• literally would never offer to help you do anything horse care related lol• even though I see him as somewhat a gentleman, he had absolutely zero interest in helping you do dirty work• he did, however, like to braid your horse's mane• like whereas Johnny would take it super seriously, two bit would do it as a joke, but he always took his time with it• (his sister taught him to braid aw :))• he would probably only wear cowboy boots to the barn and nothing else• this boy is so country omgSteve:• was kind of neutral on you riding horses• like he was really glad that you enjoyed something so much but he kind of didn't care??? if that makes sense???• like he cared but it wasn't like he was super excited about it• he's not much of an animal guy either so :/• but he loved going to the barn• he loved watching all of the really strong thoroughbreds running around in the pastures and doing jumps in stuff (so manly right)• he always had a secret desire to race his car against you riding your horse lol• he really liked bringing soda with him to watch you ride since he knew soda loved horses• when you got off your horse to go put him up and you just had a really awesome ride and you were super giddy he literally loved that so much• like he LIVED for those moments• "I saw you out there. good job, baby."• HE WAS SUCH A PROUD BOYFRIEND• I WANT A STEVE

[jones573]

Post Log, St. George’s

Winona had begun walking away, and Alex hurried to follow her as she climbed the front stairs, presumably to bypass their friends sneaking up the back. "Win, c'mon, we aren't supposed to try and listen in, it's rude," he protested. "May is," she retorted- He wasn't sure if that somehow meant it /wasn't/ rude, or if she meant the rudeness could thus be overlooked, or perhaps just a general commentary on May's level of boldness in comparison to Alex's, so he didn't reply. 

They were back on the third floor now, and instead of heading through the broken door back into Alex's room, she turned the handle to a room across the way, apparently unperturbed by the woman sitting up in the bed. She smelled like Deno a bit, but also like Maria, and showed no aggression, so Winona assumed she could be ignored and turned to examine the wood paneling that covered the lower half of the walls.

"Um- Hi, Mags," he greeted as he followed Win, tugging at her sleeve.

“Alex," the woman replied, her face a mixture of amus.ement and disappointment that he was unsure how to read. "There's another werewolf here, isn't there?" 

Alex looked sheepish, especially once Winona found what she was looking for and removed a portion of the wall to reveal the fireplace that had once been connected to the house's principal chimney, but admitted, "Yeah, sorry- Maria said I couldn't tell you." They both watched as Winona stuck her head into the cavity and then reappeared, looking disappointed.

“Yeah, I bet she did. If that's got sound-proofing, the ones below probably do, too," Mags suggested as she climbed out of bed and threw a robe on over her tshirt and sweats, looking at the heavily padded piece of wall Winona had removed before tying her short orange hair back.

‘I think they're done anyways,' Winona signed to Alex in annoyance. That would teach her to dilly dally over his morals. "Better luck next time," Mags told the girl, leaving the room and hurrying down the stairs, especially at the sound of Deno's muffled shout. 

“Maria, who are you- Denatro!," she exclaimed when she got halfway down the flight and could identify him amongst the others. She surveyed the others with brief interest, hazel eyes focusing on his hand, and Locke's across his mouth. "You got /marri.ed!," she said with surprise, and a bit of delight. Maria was a bit surprised that her comments had not resulted in unkind words- It had been part of the reason she had said them, after all. If Vlad wanted to have it out with a Councilor, she'd rather he found an outlet that wasn't Von Batts. Annabelle seemed to suspect that and said to Bram, "And I'm sure it's annoying to have someone cling to that  story, especially when it continues to dictate their actions and cause undesirable repercussions for all involved. I imagine Maria hoped the chance to yell at someone he disliked would relieve a fraction of Vlad's stress." She looked surprised when Scarlet took no issue with her order, and a wide grin broke across her face. "Oh, I /like/ her, maybe she can stay, I do so enjoy having people around who actually listen," she told Maria as Scarlet and her father left. "What threat level do you feel she warrants?" Maria looked very unimpressed and said, "Absolutely not," before Annabelle even finished the question. 

“You want to play with fire," Maria warned her sister-in-law, "Fine. But only so many fires at once, please." Annabelle rolled her eyes. "Well, it's hardly fair to Gabriel- The stress you lot have put on his relationships, I swear. You better be paying him for this," she chastised Bram. "Annabelle- Stay out of this," Maria warned, but she suddenly started at the sound of Mags' voice out in the hall, a panic dawning behind her eyes. Yes, pay closer attention to your /own/ fires, Annabelle thought with enjoyment before turning back to Bram. "I hope she at least /pretended/ to be of assistance," Annabelle said of Maria. "Is there anything Matt or I can do to help?" Gabriel looked just a little bit haggard as Mags appeared, and had he been anyone else he probably would have groaned aloud. At least it distracted Deno from his angry tirade, and he startled as he spun around to face her. Locke blinked owlishly like a deer caught in the headlights, and he quickly removed his hand, running his fingers over the wedding ring sheepishly. It wasn't exactly fancy, considering their budget. ."Mags! Hi!" Deno exclaimed, snapping to attention and looking just a little bit guilty. "I was gonna check in on you, in a bit, but they mentioned you were resting, so..." He trailed off, his cheeks a bit red. "Y-yeah, five years ago. Not that I deliberately kept you out of the loop or anything! I haven't really told anyone back home, you know how Joseph gets about celebration and family..." Locke, for his part, kept mostly quiet, bowing his head politely with a muttered 'nice to meet you'. May had taken a step back towards the wall, but as soon as Alex and Win appeared he rushed over to join them. Gabriel glanced at Devon, pursing his lips as he considered just how much information to divulge. ."There's been a slight... mishap. It might be safer for-c you two to stay here with your guardian in the meantime, while things are sorted out," he said finally, giving as little of an actual answer as he could, but it seemed enough to snap Deno's attention back over to him. ."Yeah, why are you taking her? And why are you sending us back?! We only come down here twice a year to see you, you--" Locke grabbed him by the shoulder to cut off his tirade, interrupting him with a quiet grunt of 'language'. Gabriel glowered at him, but when Annabelle spoke up he cleared his throat, trying to regain control of his composure and the situation. ."It's quite alright, I'd like to speak to Miss Scarlet further about her situation anyways--" He froze when she grabbed his arm, eyes widening, but May seemed to perk up then, grinning. ."Right? He's either all scowly or doing that prim proper rich business smile. I don't think he actually knows how to have fun."

Bram rolled his eyes and shook his head. Maria and her emotional meddling. Like Vlad would show his true emotions to someone he didn't trust. Vampires. Why were they even a thing? "No, that would just make him angrier. Leave the talking him down to me.” He set his hands on his hips and glanced at Annabelle. "She's not listening to you. I think she thinks messing with Gabe would be fun."

Bram shrugged. He had no idea if they were even paying Gabriel. Probably. Vlad might pretend not to use money, but he certainly did a lot of shuffling of accounts behind the scenes. He sighed. "Nah. Letting us stay is trespassing on your hospitality enough, I think. Thanks, though."- Devon frowned and turned to his shorter guardian. "A mishap?"- -"We will discuss it later."-c- 

The elder vampire sighed, giving Scarlet a tired look. "Do not torment him."-

Scarlet grinned at Denatro and Locke and practically dangled off of Gabriel's arm—directly ignoring her sire. "Because I'm prettier than you two. Duh."- -"Scarlet," Vlad groaned. -"Maybe he just needs a teacher," Scarlet continued, turning the grin on May. "I like this Sugar Crystal. He is way more fun than all of you put together. Can he come too?"

"Well, I've kept myself out of the loop since I left, so- Wait," Mags said, her eyes narrowing as she caught up with what Deno was saying. Obviously she knew he hadn't been in contact with the pack /before/ she'd left, but she'd been promised that would /change/. "Are you not-? Joseph doesn't know- That stubborn idiot! He promised," she said, clearly frustrated. "The /one/ thing I asked of him before he exiled me, honestly…," she muttered, before sighing. "I'm sorry," she told Deno sadly. "I was so excited about the prospect of news from any of the packs- I hadn't considered you might not have any. But. He smells like a good man," she said with a soft smile in Locke's direction. Actually, he smelled like vampire, but she supposed that was a bit hypocritical of her to take issue with. Annabelle laughed lightly. "Oh, no one can /trespass/ on anything here- Why ever would you think I'd offer if didn't /want/ you here? You lot are the most fun I've had since I staged my dea.th in that car accident!". It was likely a very good thing Maria was fussing at Mags and did not hear- or at least pay much attention to- Annabelle's enthusiasm over the excitement. "/I/ could get you news, if you wanted it," she hissed, pressing the back of her hand to Mags' forehead. It was promptly smacked away, which Maria counted as a semi-win, as Mags was clearly feeling better. ."Uh- If it affects Devon and Winona, maybe they should know about it sooner, rather than later," Alex suggested from his position on the stair. Winona was hovering behind him, suddenly aware of the number of people in the hall, and wary of the two unknown redheads. Mags was still low threat, but not so much as she had been when she was tucked into bed and not slapping Maria's hand away. And Scarlet- Winona wasn't sure if she was a threat, and if so, to whom? Winona couldn't decide if she needed to get as many trusted people between the two of them as possible, or if she needed to get herself between Scarlet and as many trusted people as possible. ."Alex," Annabelle said with sudden delight. "Some of the guests are heading out now, why don't you see people off, goodness knows your father won't," she instructed. "Maria, you as well. ."But," Alex began to protest. ."Make sure to tell Dr. Vang we'll be keeping his mother in our thoughts. And I'm /sure/ Gwyneth will ask you to remind me about her Vogue problem- Tell her if I haven't settled it by the end of the week, /I'll/ contact her," she continued, and despite her cheerful tone, Alex knew wishing guests good night was not actually a 'suggestion'. He slunk down the stairs do as instructed and Maria followed with much less protest though she told Mags pointedly, "We're going to have to talk about this later. "You're dam.n right we will," Mags growled back angrily, and Alex idly wondered what sort of blackmail material his aunt's friend had that Maria allowed her to speak to her like that. Mostly he felt badly for leaving Winona alone- But she wasn't really alone, he figured, and if she felt she was in any danger she clearly had no problem running loose around the house, so.