#and still feeling like i want to apologize for fucking up the sheets!!!! CLEANUP MY BELOATHED

[drakerry]

since i got my iud i barely get my period anymore - maybe once every two or three months and only a bit of spotting - and it’s like a weight i never even noticed has been lifted off my shoulders. still interrogating whether it’s a gender thing but the amount of stress, shame, and physical pain i was dealing with regularly… when i could have NOT BEEN? well hello let’s celebrate that

[magicalcreeks]

Happy Birthday, Stan

Summary: Kyle only wanted to throw Stan the perfect Birthday Party

Pairing: Style

It’s still Stan’s birthday here and since I can't draw I wanted to write a fic for his birthday with one of my favorite pairings. Enjoy!

...

Kyle was way over his head with an ambition greater than his ego. He, holding the title of Stan’s super best friend had to make sure his birthday went smoothly— and, with that same logic, it required Kyle to take full responsibility of the surprise party he wanted to throw him.

Premature chaos bubbles underneath of foundation of the Broflovski household, as the agenda Kyle set for the preparation of Stan’s surprise party went askew. He looked over the scene of Butters, Kenny, and Cartman sitting on the respective corners of the rectangular dining table with mounds of glitter glue and ribbon borrowed from Ike’s arts and crafts set resting on the floor, along with misshapen cutouts from their assortment of construction paper. Kyle’s red curls sprung over his eyes, they bounced along with his deep inhales. In the back of his mind, a feeling of leaving these idiots alone gnawed on him. Kyle placed two hands firmly on the wooden surface to see the progress being made between the three boys, again overhyping their artistic abilities since the art they created looked as if a dog chewed it, swallowed, and immediately spat it back up. The glue had already crusted along the edges of the paper, and the letters they cut out then pasted appeared lopsided. “What the hell is this?” Kyle demanded an explanation, noticing the time on the ticking clock hanging on his wall from the corner of his eye. This was no good. Cleanup wasn’t apart of the agenda. Stan was expected to arrive in less than two hours once he was done with therapy. Kyle knew his schedule like the back of his hand. Every week when Stan had his therapy session his father would pick him up and take him to Denny’s— for a painfully awkward conversation— then when his father dropped him off at his mothers house, Stan would text Kyle all about it until their conversation dissolved into them sending outdated memes to one another for the hell of it. Kyle has his hand balled into a tight fist on his side. He marched into the kitchen to grab the roll of paper towels and tossed it to Kenny in an aggressive pass, “clean this shit up, we have an hour until everyone arrives.” “Oh, Gee, how are we supposed to clean when we’re all sticky?” Said Butters, taking the towel sheet from Kenny’s hand and feeling it stick to his fingers. “Figure it out, Butters.” “Calm your Vagina.” Eric’s been snacking on the bag of cheesy puffs Kyle stocked on for this occasion. “Shut the fuck up, fatass,” he wrestled the bag out of Eric’s hands. It was upon retrieving it when he realized how empty the bag was, with his fingers clenching onto nothing but air and cheese dust. Really? Then he rolled his eyes, pressing down hard on the garbage pale to open the lid. He released the bag from his fingers and heard the plastic crinkle upon impact. “Um, about that,” Kenny pauses on his cleaning, unsure yet unnerved on what to say to Kyle in his current disposition. Instead, he reached into his raggedy bag and removed a stack of neatly, untouched, envelopes, “Eric never handed out the invitations.” “Kenny, you fucking sell out.” Eric hissed underneath his breath even though Kyle could hear him as plain a day. “And it’s not that I didn’t hand them out, no one wanted them. Apparently, we’re assholes but they’re all just pussies.” “Well, I don’t think you fellas are assholes.” Butters pepped up shyly, exchanging a smile with Kenny who, in the time they have been speaking, had moved over a little too close to him. “No one gives a shit, Butters, gosh.” Kyle rubbed soothing circles around his temples. Off of Stan’s own recommendation he had decided to practice with new ways to handle his anger— even though the steady foundation had boiled over with the immense fear of everything that could’ve gone wrong, going wrong, making Kyle the perfect candidate for bitching up a storm. For the sake of Stan’s birthday, he will try to work with whatever shit he had. “Okay, we have a little less than two hours to get this place cleaned up. Butters, do you know how to make a cake?” “Why sure, Tweek’s been showing me a bunch of new recipes—“ Kyle cut him off, “okay, okay,” next he turned to Kenny and Eric, “Kenny, you work with Butters because I don’t trust Cartman near the cake batter. Fatass, you’re with me. Help me set up the table.” Kenny did a soldiers salute and carried off into the kitchen to help Butters gather the ingredients required for making an edible cake. “Cartman, so help me if you keep fucking around-“ “Can you relax, Kyle? I’m not going to fuck up your chance with your puking boyfriend.” “W-What the hell are you talking about?” Kyle could not hide the red trailing across his pale, freckled covered cheeks. Boyfriend? Cartman being an asshole or not his comment shouldn’t have prompt such a reaction out of him. He was only doing this for his super best friend. Sure, sometimes Stan’s parents and his own joked about them being a little too close, but they were friends. Eric rolled his eyes, “you two are so fucking gay, even Cupid Me could see it.” “Cupid what?” A crash was heard in the kitchen followed by a series of apologies recognized to be Butters voice and Kenny’s string of reassurances. This party had officially downgraded to a complete clusterfuck. Kyle sighed. Perhaps he did bite off more than he could chew. ... “The cake looks great, Leo.” “Really? Do you think so?” Butters wiped his hand on his cheek, transferring a thin line of flour and chocolate icing onto his face. Kyle stood, amazed that they were actually able to produce something out of all of this. The cake looked amazing, with Stan’s name written on the top with bright red letters, “Yeah. Good job, Butters.” “Thanks, Kyle!” Kenny wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting Kyle know of his cue. He checked his watch. Stan should be here soon. He stepped into the dining room to see the table had been completely transformed. It almost looked better than its original state, with the construction paper scraps thrown on the floor scavenged and made into a string decoration spelling out: Happy Birthday Stan. Eric secured the knot on the table’s leg. “I didn’t know you were artistic.” Eric stood up with an annoyed grunt. Of fucking course he was artistic. He just thought he would go the extra mile to appease Kyle’s man period. He grunted, then handed over the project they worked on prior— cleaned up and framed. “Don’t patronize me. I know Jews can’t do anything creative so...” he shrugged. Kyle was so happy with what he was seeing that he allowed himself to brush off Cartman’s anti-semitic remark. instead, he decided to keep it in mind in his vault of retorts for later. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch. They really pulled their shit together. The doorbell ringed. Kyle placed the frame back on the table and instructed them all to get into their places. Before he let Stan in he had to do something first. “Oh, hey, dude.” Stan was going to ring the bell again before the door opened. He offered a lopsided smile and stuffed his chilled hands in his pockets. It was so good to see Kyle after suffering through another lunch of his father pathetically ranting about not being able to move on. It didn’t help that he was drinking either. “Uh, you okay? Can I come in?” Kyle stepped out on the step Stan was standing on, leaving the front door cracked behind him and telling the others to stay quiet to that they wouldn’t ruin the surprise. “Happy Birthday, man.” Why did he feel so nervous? Kyle played with his fingers and various hangnails, his stomach twisting into a rather painful knot. Stan raised a brow then examined Kyle from head to toe to make sure he wasn’t suffering from any physical injuries. He couldn’t say much mentally. “Thanks. You know I don’t like to make a big deal about it...” Kyle nodded, “Yeah, of course, I know... how was your session?” He also knows how much Stan loathes anyone saying therapy aloud. It implied there was something wrong with him. Yes, while he was still figuring out ways to cope with his depression, the word made something within him stir. C’mon, spit it out Broflovski. Stan shrugged his shoulders and bounced on the balls of his feet, “it was fine, are you sure there’s nothing wrong? Are you getting the flu or something?” “No, I’m fine.” Kyle humored him with a light chuckle that eased the anxiety he felt. Looking at how far Stan has come he was proud to see someone he cared about healthy and happier than he had been before he started faking it. “Good. Because like, it can kill you. If there’s no quarantine can we head inside now?” Kyle stopped him again, receiving a strange look but saying nothing of it. He took in a big inhale of air, “Stan, I, um, I really like you. I like like you. I apologized before for not being there the way I should but being beside you know I’m proud to see your progress... I’m really fucking proud, dude. I don’t know if this is too gay or not but for your birthday I thought I would be the gift... I mean, if you feel the same way-“ A warmness pressed against Kyle’s lips, and before he had time to realize he was getting kissed, Stan had already pulled away. Stan had a smile matching the one he would give to Wendy when stricken with the love he thought he had for her. “I like like you too.” Said Stan, his red face matching the shade of Kyle's hair. He parted his lips to say something, until... The door opened, “Jesus fucking Christ, Kyle, can we get this over with already? Happy Birthday, Stan.” And Cartman went off, mumbling something about being friends with a bunch of homos. He left the door open enough that Stan could see Butters and Kenny waving at him, and the set up they had for him. “Yeah, of course, I know?” Stan imitated his voice. How he got so lucky to get decent friends and an amazing super best friend was beyond him. “Um, surprise?” Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. Hoping for another kiss. Stan leaned in for another kiss, “surprise!” Butters yelled, making the two boys flinch. Yeah, it was a surprise alright. Stan and Kyle fell into a fit of laughter. Happy Birthday, Stan.

[freyjaiam]

Scratch (3/?)

Note: I’m so happy that this has been well received. I’m trying so hard to get writing in on my days off. Thankfully I had the day off today to get this finished and posted! Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing on AO3 as well! The comments help me keep going! A sidenote to those looking for supercorp and westallen. i swear its coming! i promise! we will be meeting iris next chapter! and lena and kara will get their first meeting as well! the end of this chapter is pure smut!

Summary: Laurel is attacked by someone she trusted and is found dying in the woods that belong to the werewolf pack that resides outside of Central City. The succubus is taken in and she soon finds they could be her only ally against the man who wants her whole family dead... And anyone else who will stand in his way to get the power he desires. Pairings: Captain Canary, Canaryfire, Supercorp, Westallen

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Mick was hauling ass back to the estate. There was a sense of urgency in the car that had him briefly glancing in the rear view mirror to look at Laurel. The Succubus was pale, her breaths shallow, and the scent of blood was overbearing. It smelled wrong though, which lead Mick to believe that the kid was onto something. Laurel had been poisoned. Sara was in the back with her and Barry, keeping Laurel alert and doing her best to keep her awake. 

“Yeah, Maggie, you’re right. It is too crazy to make up. Look, us wolves got a target on our backs now. So watch yours. You got cleanup handled at the bakery? I’ll keep you posted…” At that moment, Leonard also snuck a look in the backseat. “And for now this is inner circle only. Got it? Good.”

Leonard ended the call only to start another. Mick glanced over and saw the name being highlighted on the cell and grunted in approval. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who could smell the poison. The phone rang twice before the person answered. Mick’s keen hearing picked up on the full conversation.

“I never get a call from you unless it’s bad news. So what is it?”

“Straight to the point, Gypsy, its why I like you. I have a case of a poisoning. Not sure what kind. Succubus. Not even feeding heals her.”

“Hm, does the wound heal at all?”

“Yes,” said Leonard. “But comes back better than ever.”

“Where is the wound?”

“She was stabbed in the stomach.” Leonard sighed. “A warlock attack.”

“Well… Fuck. Okay. I can teleport to your place.”

“We’re en-route. Be there in five.”

“I can make it in two.”

Leonard hung up then looked to Mick. Mick knew that look. Leonard was a very private person. Not many outside of those in the inner circle ever went onto the estate. There wasn’t a lot of trust from the wolves because of the past. Now, there were more people coming into their home. More people to add to the equations of what could possibly go wrong. The rising tensions between the warlocks were making it so that they had to open doors that Leonard would rather keep firmly shut, locked, and barred.

Mick kept his focus on the road, pressed his foot a little further down on the gas, and mentally prepared himself for the chaos that would more than likely be erupting in the next twenty-four hours. 

As of this moment…

They were at war.

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“Get her in a bed!” ordered Gypsy as soon as they entered the main estate doors. She’d seen them coming down the drive, spitting up gravel from their tires with their speed. Her patient was being carried by Mick, her blood staining both of them. Gypsy had her bag in hands and followed behind Mick, her footsteps silent on the marbled floor. They moved up the main staircase and went down the hall only a few doors before entering a room. The guest room was pretty, decorated in light blues and grays. Gypsy had a fleeting thought of it being a pity that the sheets were about to be ruined before Mick placed Laurel down on the bed. Oh, as soon as she saw her face, Gypsy knew who she was. And who her father was as well. “There are too many people in this room right now! I need you all to leave!”

“I’m her sister! I’m not leaving!”

Gypsy turned to see a fiery blonde who looked like she’d just taken a trip to tell. She was right on the edge of wild and was ready to fight. Gypsy nodded because she just didn’t have time to argue. 

“You can stay. But don’t get in my way. You sister’s life is now in my hands.” The girl whose name was slipping her mind at the moment nodded and Gypsy got to work. She placed her bag on the bed beside the unconscious woman. “What is your name?”

“Sara,” said Sara. “And she’s Laurel.”

“Sara. Any idea what poison this is?”

“No. I wasn’t there when...” Sara sighed. “Mick found her. From what I heard.”

“And he doesn’t know what poison it is. Neither do I,” said Leonard, who was standing in the doorway observing. “We only know that it doesn’t smell right.”

Gypsy then got to work. Sara watched as she brought out different vials, books, and even some misshapen rocks. There was a talisman she clutched in her hands that started to glow as she chanted. Sara was fighting every instinct to protect her sister from harm. Magic that kept opening the wound made her this way. Would magic save her or make her worse? She watched as Gypsy’s hands emitted a golden light, the light slithering down toward her sister and enveloping her. Sara watched as the wound closed then reopened numerous times. Gypsy would curse with each failed attempt. She dug everything out of her bag and tried using it until she stumbled back, exhausted.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sara, stepping forward. 

“The poison is strong but that isn’t the problem. Something else is opening this wound again. I need more time. And resources.” Gypsy pulled a strand of hair that had fallen out into her eyes behind her ear. Sara noticed her hand tremble. “I can make a few calls. But I need you to buy me some time. You said feeding helps her?”

“Temporarily,” said Leonard. 

“Right now that is the only thing that can save her. She needs to feed.” Gypsy pulled a phone out of her back pocket. She was too weak to teleport to where she needed to go. “I’ll be down the hall making calls.”

Sara was left alone with Leonard and her sister. She reached down and took her hand. It was unmoving and cold. She fought the urge to cry. She needed to be strong for her sister. A tear still managed to fall and she brushed it away with the back of her free hand. She then turned to Leonard, who looked to be contemplating his next move. 

“I can’t feed her,” said Sara. “It doesn’t work like that for us.”

“I know,” he said. 

“Please... You need-”

“I don’t need to do anything,” he said coldly, making her stiffen. “You brought this war onto my doorstep and now I have to get my people ready because your family is involved in a pissing contest with the warlocks!”

“Laurel and I left the family!” shouted Sara, releasing her sister’s hand to square off to the wolf. Her eyes glowed a bright blue as she spoke, anger evident in her stance and speech. “We left all of this behind! This isn’t on us! We wanted to be normal!”

“And now you see the price you paid for trying to be something you aren’t,” said Leonard. Sara had heard enough and launched forward, ready to lash out and fight. Leonard growled, his own eyes transitioning to ember, but somehow Barry managed to squeeze in between him. His speed was still something Leonard couldn’t get over. 

“Hey! Stop! We shouldn’t be fighting!”

“Tell that to you boss,” spat Sara. “We don’t need your help anymore. We will leave!”

“What?” Barry looked between them and decided to go to Sara. “What do you mean leave?”

“We are obviously not welcomed here,” said Sara. “And you aren’t the only one with contacts Leonard. I can get Laurel help on my own!”

Leonard instantly felt bad. He was just worried. Worried for his people. And now he needed to feed one of them to Laurel to keep her alive. He knew he needed them on his side if he wanted to come out of this alive. However, he was too stubborn to just say he was wrong and apologize. Instead he let out a calming sigh then looked to Sara. 

“No. You will stay. You are safer here than out there. Gypsy will help. You still need someone to feed your sister. You won’t get far without that.”

Sara knew he was right. But she was just as stubborn as he was. She kept her back to him because she knew if she looked at him now she would fight him. She wanted to feel his bones break beneath her hands. Which is why she kept them clenched, nails digging into the skin of her palm. She was still young and didn't have the handle on her powers like her sister did. She was still learning. So she closed her eyes and just focused on breathing. Barry, sensing the situation was handled, looked to Laurel.

“I can feed her,” he said, volunteering.

“No,” said Leonard. “You already fed Sara earlier.” 

Sara felt guilt hit her hard. She’d been out of control. And had fed without thinking. Had Laurel not been there, she may not have stopped. She was broken out of her thoughts when a portal opened. They all stood at the ready as two individuals popped through. Gypsy rushed back into the room. 

“About time!” she shouted.

“Who the hell are they?” asked Leonard. 

“Help needed to solve this problem. This is Cisco. He’s one of the good guys.”

“A warlock,” said Leonard with a sneer that Sara matched as she stared the man down. He didn’t look threatening in his Star Wars shirt and holey jeans but Leonard wasn’t one to take chances. “Why shouldn’t I just rip his throat out?”

“B-Because I like it where it is,” said Cisco, hands going to his throat.

“He is with a small faction that broke off from the main Warlock clan. We call them the White Hats,” said Gypsy. “This is Caitlin. She’s human, but she’s adept in all the physiology of the supernatural world.”

“How long has she been unconscious?” asked Caitlin, pulling out a pair of gloves, immediately getting to work. 

“About an hour,” said Barry.

“She needs fluids,” said Caitlin, opening a compartment in her bag. She had medical supplies, including a bag of saline. “She’s lost a lot of blood just from what I see here. She needs to feed.”

“We’ve established that,” said Leonard. 

“I’ll do it.”  All heads turned to the doorway. Standing there, was Mick. He hadn’t changed yet. He still had her blood on his shirt. He looked menacing as hell. Caitlin’s eyes widened and Cisco looked like he was about to pass out. “I’ll feed her.”

“You already fed her once,” said Leonard.

“I can handle it.”

“Mick-”

“I said I can handle it,” he argued. Leonard knew better than to try and change his mind. Mick strolled into the room. Everyone, including Sara, gave him room. He sat beside Laurel and gave her a small shake. She didn’t even flutter an eyelash. “What the hell am I supposed to do if she’s asleep?”

“Mouth to mouth contact seems like the most viable solution,” said Caitlin, matter-of-factly. “Even though she is unconscious I predict her survival instincts will kick in when you offer her-her food source.”

“So, what?” asked Mick, still not quite understanding what he needed to do.

“You gotta kiss her, man!” shouted Cisco. 

“That seems... Like something I don’t want to be here for,” said Barry.

“The feeding of a succubus is very personal,” said Caitlin. “Very intimate.”

“We don’t have time for sensibilities!” shouted Gypsy. “Just feed her!”

Mick grumbled before, in front of everyone, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. At first nothing happened. He thought that maybe he was too late. So he pressed just a little harder. And still, she didn’t move. He let out a growl of frustration before tempting her further by sweeping his tongue inside her mouth. Now that got a reaction. He felt her lips flutter. What he didn’t see was that her eyes snapped open on the bed, the blue glow burning so bright is changed the lighting of the room. Suddenly he was flipped onto his back and he had a very, very hungry succubus on top of him. He didn’t have a chance to say a word before she fed. He held on for as long as he could, perhaps enjoying the exhilarating feel of her on top of him and literally stealing his breath away too much, until the world went black around him. 

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A chauffeur opened the door to a shiny, black town car and a heeled foot planted itself onto the concrete of the front sidewalk. The driver offered his hand and she took it, rising out of the car. The door closed behind her as she walked forward. She was dressed in red silk, the small train of her gown almost floating behind her. Her lips, painted the same color of the dress, were set in a firm line as she gave her name to the security at the front. Satisfied after having typed it into the handhelds, they let her in. She accepted their offer to take her shawl and clutch, checking them at the door. She snagged a flute of champagne after having ascended onto the main floor, the stairs not at all a hindrance in her heels. Many looked at her with guarded expressions, the family name still instilling fear and awe. Lena ignored them all, sipping on her drink while taking in who was there. Many warlocks and vampires. An occasional human or two. 

All of them very powerful. 

Very wealthy. 

And very corrupt. 

“Lena Luthor. How fortunate we all are to have you in our company this lovely evening.” 

Had she been anything but a vampire, she was certain chills would be going up her spine. She forced a smile and turned to the man that was the definition of scum. Vandal Savage was known for his cruelty as well as his disregard for laws. Rumors have spread of him. Many knew his alleged story. Of always finding the reincarnated woman he desired only to kill her again and again due to her rejection. His story was told to keep young girls up at night, fearful that they will be taken away. She was face to face with a walking nightmare, who was taking her free hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. It took everything in her to not wrench her hand away and wipe it on her gown to be rid of the feel of his lips on her skin. 

“Vandal Savage,” said Lena, keeping her hand steady. When he released her hand she pulled it back with a smile. “I did not know you would be attending. I must say I am uncertain as to why we are all here.”

“As are many of the other guests. Everyone has been so secretive.”

“Trust me when I say, that the secret we’ve been keeping, will be a pleasant surprise,” said someone new. Lena looked over to see a man dressed in a sharp suit with equally sharp blue eyes and bright, blonde hair. 

“Damien, I should have known that with all the cloak and dagger that you were the man in charge,” said Savage. 

“Upset that your Seer couldn’t give you more answers?” Damien laughed, as if he’d told a joke he’d found amusing while Vandal glowered. “Oh, don’t look at me like that! I have no interest in that particular bird. I have my own... Ace in the hole, if you will. Don’t worry, old friend, soon everything will come to light. Our time has come to no longer fear those that have wanted to keep us down.”

“Care to elaborate?” asked Lena with a quirked brow.

“As I said. All in good time. Enjoy the party.”

Damien left, leaving Lena alone once again with Savage. She let her eyes scour the room for a quick escape. When she saw her salvation she excused herself and instead walked toward the one person who was only just slightly more bearable than Savage. 

“Hello, Mother.”

“Lena, what I surprise. Though I must admit I knew you would be here. My feelings are slightly hurt. I was told by a mutual friend that my invitation was extended through you.”

“I do apologize, Mother. It slipped my mind. Running a company sometimes has one forgetting things. But, you are here now. That is all that matters. Wouldn’t you say?”

Her mother was angry, Lena knew that, however keeping up pretenses meant that she had to reign in that anger. Because whether her mother liked it or not, Lena was the one higher on the food chain due to her status at L-Corp. Her mother opened her mouth to say more but at that moment attention was called for by those in attendance. Everyone turned to see three individuals standing together. A picture of solidarity. One was the warlock Damien Darhk. Another was the vampire Merlyn. There was one other who Lena did not recognize, dressed in all black save for the yellow tie. It was Merlyn who stepped forward to speak with the others at his back.

“You all have been wondering why we invited you here tonight. Well, wonder no longer, for tonight is the first chapter in our reign over this city. For too long we have hidden in the shadows. Taken the scraps given to us by those who deem themselves more worthy. Well, tonight, that is over. Tonight, the hierarchy is falling. As we speak, important members of the council and their families are... Being taken care of...”

Murmurs traveled through the crowd. Some uneasy. Some excited.

“Soon, everything will be ripe for the picking. This city will crumble and fall but out of the ashes we will rise to bring forth the new order. It has come to our attention that ones we thought long lost are actually still among us. Why I invited you all here tonight is because we wish to find them. With their help we will tighten our ranks. When favors need to be done they will come to us. When new business opportunities arrive they will not go to the Queens or the Waynes. They will come to our doorsteps!”

Gone was the uneasiness. People cheered and clapped. Lena, on the other-hand, was worried. Lena knew exactly what they meant by taking care of the families in the cities. The same families who had given her a chance. Who had made deals with her despite her last name.

“Who are the ones that are lost?” shouted someone from the crowd. 

“Glad you asked that,” said Damien, now taking over. “Now, are you ready for this? The ones lost are... Fairies!” A sudden hush grew over the crowd. “What? No round of applause?”

“They are a curse upon us all!” shouted a vampire.

“They will destroy us!” added a warlock.

“Not... If we get them on our side. And if they don’t play ball?” Damien smirked. “We kill them! According to my contact, there is one here in this city living among us! Unfortunately he was ambushed and the fairy was taken from him. Which is where all of you and your resources come in handy! Imagine what we could do with just one fairy on our side?”

“Well,” murmured Lillian. “Things just got interesting, haven’t they?”

‘I have to warn them,’ thought Lena as those around her celebrated. ‘I have to warn them all.’

Already, Lena was making preparations in her head, on how she could find this fairy before everyone else did so that she could protect them.

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“That was stupid.”

Mick opened his eyes and turned his head to see Laurel. Cisco and Gypsy both had hands over her wound, trying to heal her. The other one, the doc with the nice legs, was looking into a microscope. Laurel was up and alert. She had more color, but still had dark circles under her eyes.

“I’m known to do stupid things,” he said, giving his head a slight shake.

“I’m being serious. I could have killed you. I was past coherency.” Laurel hissed in a breath and shot a look at Cisco. “That stings!”

“Sorry! Sorry! It’s just... Nothing is working!” said a frustrated Cisco. “Whatever they used against you it fights everything we throw at it. Even Zatanna’s spells. And those suckers pack a punch!”

“This is old magic,” murmured Gypsy, giving a sympathetic look to Laurel. A look that Laurel understood. She felt her chin rising as she did her best to be brave. “The best we can gather, Laurel, is that it is a death curse. A curse that cannot be broken.”

“There is nothing biologically wrong,” confirmed Caitlin. “The poison used has been treated. I’m sorry, I wish we had better news.”

“So that’s it? We give up?” asked Mick.

“If we were to destroy the cursed object used in your attack that may be the end of it,” said Gypsy. “But she doesn’t have the time for that.”

“I’m on borrowed time now. If it wasn’t for you, Mick, I’d be dead already.”

“Hold on!” shouted Cisco, who suddenly stood up and started pacing. Gypsy made a sound of protest as she used both her hands to keep Laurel healed. Laurel could see the strain on her though. She was pale and shaky and looked like she needed to sleep for a week to recover. “Think, Cisco, think! I have it... It’s right there. I just... Argh! C’mon... YES! I got it!”

“Mind sharing with the class?” asked Gypsy. 

“Bonds,” said Cisco, simply. Caitlin hummed, having gotten it right away. “We get Laurel to bond with someone”

“But that won’t stop the curse,” countered Caitlin.

“No, but it’ll slow it down. With regular feedings, Laurel will be able to hold on until we get that object destroyed. You know who attacked you. So we find him, get the object, and bam! You’re saved!”

“That’s great and all,” said Laurel. “But you’re missing something.”

“What?” asked Cisco.

“I have no one to bond with,” said Laurel. “And even then the curse could carry to them. They, too, could die.”

“She has a point,” said Caitlin. “This being would have to have healing properties like Laurel. And like she said if she were to die, depending on how strong the bond was, they could die with her. Once again this is depending of if the curse actually transfers to them. The best viable bond would be with another succubus, because they could then feed. However...”

“Males are rare,” said Laurel. “And Sara and I broke from the line.”

“I’m certain your father-” started Caitlin.

“No,” finished Laurel. “He wouldn’t. Besides, when a succubus bonds with someone they grow stronger when feeding from them. I can’t feed from another succubus. It isn’t possible.”

“Vampires could be immune to the death curse since they are already technically dead and not a food source,” said Cisco. “A witch or warlock could have some counter spells to keep the curse at bay, but even then-”

“I’ll do it,” said Mick, sitting up straight. 

“Wait, what?” asked Laurel, legitimately shocked. 

“I’ll do it,” said Mick. “Werewolves who mate can share healing properties. Plus weres heal faster than anyone. I’ve already come this far might as well go all the way in.”

“Mating is a lot more serious than just giving me a snack,” said Laurel.

“It’s what we got,” countered Mick. “Besides. Not like I have anyone. From what I hear you get stronger during sex as well.”

“Mick,” chastised Gypsy.

“What? It’s true. I’ve read about it!”

“He’s right,” said Laurel, slightly embarrassed. “In a way.”

“Wait, wait, wait... Are we seriously thinking about this? Mr. Rory think this through. You could have serious repercussions. We don’t know how this curse could effect you. You could die.”

“I ain’t afraid of dying.” He looked to Laurel. “It’s up to you.”

“You look like you can barely stand... Let alone go through a mating ritual,” said Laurel. “And I’m not going to ask you to risk yourself for me.”

“You don’t have to ask. I said I’d do it. Leonard accepted you and your sister into the pack. You’re one of us now.”

“We could always break the bond, after I mean,” prompted Cisco.

Mick got a somber look on his face. Bonds were serious with weres. When you mated with someone you gave them everything. Breaking it broke you. Hell, he’d heard of weres killing themselves because they couldn’t handle the pain of a broken bond. It was easier if the other half died instead. But he had no one. If Laurel died the bond would be broken naturally and maybe he’d outlive the curse before it took him---if it transferred to him that was.

“I’m all in, Sweetheart,” he said, sitting up. “You wanna live or die because other than Gypsy here there’s no one else in this house who could do it or be strong enough for all the feedings. Including the Boss, who probably would forbid this if he were here.” He pointed to the others. “No one tell him till it’s done!”

“Where is he anyway? And Sara?” asked Laurel.

“He went to go get his sister, Lisa, so that she could show Sara around. Get her cleaned up,” said Cisco. 

“We gotta come up with an option soon because I can’t keep this up,” said Gypsy. Her hands were shaking. Cisco rushed to her side and put his hands back. He nodded for her to take a break and she did, falling back with a gasp.

“Okay,” said Laurel.

She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to keep putting Gypsy and Cisco through pain in healing her. She didn’t know Mick. She didn’t love him at all. However, he did bring her here. He’s been protecting her even without the bond. That meant something to her. There was just something about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe she was being delirious because of all the blood she’d lost. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. She wanted her revenge against those who had wanted to kill her. So she’d take the wolf up on his offer. He was strong. She could share his strength. Heal faster.

“Everyone out,” said Caitlin. “We don’t need to be here for this.”

“Give me one good jolt of healing mojo... We’ll do the rest,” said Laurel. Cisco nodded, hands glowing blue unlike Gypsy’s red. They then filed out of the room, leaving Laurel and Mick alone. She shifted slightly with a wince, going on her side. He followed suit so that they were facing one another. 

“Final chance to get out of this,” said Laurel. 

“Nah...” Mick brought a hand up, let it rest on her hip. “I’ve always liked playing with fire.” Laurel winced and he looked down. The light of the spell was already fading. “We gotta be quick about this. Sorry, Doll, no romance tonight. Not that I’m much of a romantic.”

“Oh, I dunno, saving the life of a woman who hardly know seems a little romantic,” she said, eyes flashing blue. She touched his arm. He prepared himself of the stillness. Instead, he just got warmth. Confused, he looked at her, and she smirked. “Bonding is different. Remember?”

“Right.”

Mick started to feel lightheaded as her soothing touch warmed him from the top of his head to his toes. When she moved to take off her shirt she let out a gasp and he shook his head, instead just going for her pants. She nodded. Not all skin had to be visible for a bond. There was no romance, it was all business, but he was still gentle. Her shoes, pants, and underwear were tossed to the floor. He stood and tossed off his clothing before rejoining her. When her hands touched his skin he shivered, her warmth traveling even to his scars. She touched them now, inquisitive, and he didn’t want to talk about it so he kissed her. It was then she took her first sip. Enough so that she could shift. He was on his back once more, like before, and she was on top. Her eyes were that same blue and he was transfixed. He felt the wolf beneath his skin wanting out so he let it. With a growl his eyes went gold and his hold on her tightened. She leaned down and kissed him once more before starting her feeding. The more she took the more turned on he got. He was rock hard against her stomach.  She kept taking. More and more and more. He didn’t stop her. Didn’t want to stop her. 

“Fuck...”

“You okay?” she asked. 

“I’m good. Horny as hell though.”

“Oh, I know, Baby,” she purred.

“Jesus don’t talk like that or I’ll burst,” he moaned. 

She laughed. “Ready to start?”

“You mean it hasn’t started yet?” He tossed his head back and let out a loud moan as she lowered herself onto him. He fought every urge to roll her over and fuck the hell out of her. She was so damn hot and he was craving her heat even more now. “Fuck!”

“Shh...” 

Her hands traveled up and down his chest. She was trembling as she started to ride him, her hips undulating against him. Her blue eyes were burning into his amber. She started to feed again. He couldn’t breathe but he didn’t care. He wanted to keep going. Right when he felt he was about to pass out Laurel exhaled. The same blue mist that she fed on went back into him. Confused he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Her movements continued and right when the last bit of the mist entered his mouth she came with the help of her fingers on her clit. Something he hadn’t noticed her doing in his delirium. 

“Why’d you give it back?”

“It’s part of the process. We... We are now bonded.” Her eyes fluttered as she sagged against him. “At least... On my end.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Your turn. Mate with me like a wolf.”

“Jesus, fuck, okay.” They shifted. He pulled out of her. He smelled her blood again. Concerned her looked at her wound. It was trickling blood. He brought his hand there, as if to stop it. “It isn’t working.”

“We’re only halfway done. You need to do your part.”

“But your wound.”

“Don’t let a little blood stop you,” she said with a laugh, a poor attempt at a joke. She was paling. Hell, it was killing his buzz. 

“Take from me, then we will keep going,” he insisted. She nodded and did just that, pressing her lips to his in a languid kiss before taking just a sip. He nuzzled her neck after. He wanted to do so much more to her but time was short so he brought her to her hands and knees. Wolves were wild and primitive in the bed when it came to mating. He came in from behind her and thrust back inside. She moaned, head tossing back, her already sensitive pussy sparking with the invasion with a spike of newfound lust.

He leaned forward, mouth latching onto her neck, teeth testing the flesh before pressing down. Vampires and werewolves were similar in some ways with the bonding. Both used bites. Werewolves didn’t need to share blood, just draw enough with their mark to be embedded in the skin. When his teeth pressed Laurel gasped, hips bucking. 

‘Mine,’ he thought. Instinct taking over as his fingers dug more firmly into her hips. 

‘Yours,’ he heard, a whisper at the back of his head. 

She was so open to him that it didn’t take him long to complete the bond. One last snap of the hips had him coming inside her just as he drew the last of her blood. Just like that something snapped and fell into place. They shifted once more to look at one another. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, and he could see his mark on her neck. 

“Do you feel it?” she asked.

“Yeah. You?” he asked.

“Yeah...” She looked down at her stomach. It was still bleeding. But not as much. “It’s tingling. Like it is trying to heal itself.”

“Good.”

“Mick...” She cupped his cheeks. Her face was open. Her mask was gone. So was his, in that moment. The mask he’d been wearing since the age of ten had been eviscerated by this woman. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing...”

“It isn’t nothing. It means everything. To me.” 

She pressed her lips to his. It was a kiss. An actual kiss. Not something out of necessity. It was soft, almost sweet, and he didn’t want it to stop. What the hell was wrong with him? Did the bond turn him into a softie.

“You should feed,” he said, hand moving up and down her back before his whole arm wrapped around her to pull her flush against him. “Start looking for that dirtbag that hurt you after.”

“Agreed.”

And so, he fell back, her on top of him, to start the feeding process.

Unaware of the chaos that was unfolding downstairs...

TBC...