#i have no idea when on the timeline the human urinal story takes place and tbh i don't want to know

[magentagalaxies]

love it when i'm feeling stressed so i go to put on any random scott thompson video where he talks about trauma and comedy bc they're so cathartic 10/10 coping mechanism but then i see in the recommended the goddamn "human urinal" standup set and i just go well this isn't what i was looking for at all but now i need to watch this again

[icespur]

It AU:Look What I Found Ideas

I write stories, not many of my stories are online yet though, cause hardly any of my stories are finished! But I write stories of the current fandoms I’m in, and now I’m obsessed with IT 2017 and Pennywise

And I have some story ideas I’m working on, I’ve bothered and mentioned my ideas in reblog comments but now that I figured out how to post I can actually tell you my ideas here!

So here’s one of my IT AU story ideas

The story is called “Look What I Found” and it’s a alternate timeline of when Pennywise came to earth, in the book he came to earth in a asteroid and crashed years ago and then became active when human civilization was built.

Well in here he still comes to earth the same way, BUT——-

He’s an egg....

The asteroid has the egg inside and when the asteroid crashes on earth it cracks open revealing the unscathed egg.

Years go by, creatures die, new creature born, Humans come in. The egg sits in the background as life goes on until in 1988 October when a little 7 year old child loses his paper boat in a sewer gutter, he’s too small to reach it and his parents would kill him if he were to go down into a dirty old sewer. So he has no choice but to go home and break the news to his older brother that he lost his boat, his brother tells him that he’ll look for it for him tomorrow and not to worry.

The next day Bill and his friends go down into the sewers to look for the missing paper boat, they eventually find it—— along with a mysterious black egg.....

Eddie is hesitant and says that they should ignore it but curiosity gets the better of them, thinking this egg is some “new discovery” or maybe it’s a real life dragon egg! So they take the egg with them

Oh boy was that a bad idea.

It seems the more the egg develops the more creepy sh*t it does

* At first it randomly glowed, but as time goes on it seems sometimes glowing is tied to it’s emotions... sometimes.

* If you are brave enough (stupid enough) to put your face up to the egg or put the egg up to a light, you will see a bunch of glowing lights, that gets brighter and brighter as time goes on. It wasn’t until a very weird incident at the park where the egg came in contact with a pregnant woman’s belly that may or may not have caused the woman to bleed, that now if you look at the embryo you will see a normal human fetus

*Can hear and mimic music and voices

*Whatever is in there has two glowing yellow orbs for eyes and it’s creepy!

*Georgie seems very attached to it, he talks to it as if it’s alive and can hear him, Bill’s starting to worry if letting Georgie get so close to the egg is safe.

*The losers have contemplated destroying the egg many times and have come very close to crushing it to bits with a hammer but usually Georgie begs them not to and talks them out of it, or the egg letting out human infant sounding cries stopping them.

* Especially once it become clear that the egg is draining life and certain movement of other people’s organs and limbs so it can have working body parts.

*Gets a very concerning childish disturbing glee from the losers fighting or any negative energy in general, making the egg glow revealing the silhouette of a fetus clapping.

*Eventully starts being able to make noises, squeals, squeaks, weird chattering gibberish, etc.

*Not even technically born yet and it already keeps them up at night. 11:00 pm on a school night the children are trying to get a good night sleep all of a sudden the egg starts glowing and rocking back and forth and loud carnival music starts playing on full blast

*Parts of the egg start to crack leaving a hole where it’s yellow eyes can peak out. Everyone is creeped out by this, except for Georgie who happily walked around the entire house with the egg giving it a tour of the Denbrough house

(I have a bunch of different versions of how the hatching scene would play out)

*It’s chaos when the egg hatches, once the storm clears and everyone is able to hold their breath a small baby clown is revealed.

Raising baby Pennywise........

*He’s a a**hole

*Baby-mutant-clown or whatever he is exactly, apparently develop differently then human infants. The first few days nothing seems too out of the ordinary, sleeps a lot, (to the point where Richie and the rest sometimes wonder if he’s dead so they poke him to make sure he’s still alive which upsets him causing him to curl into a furry auburn ball) But then eventually he randomly learns to stand up in his crib and stares at them standing up......at one week old—— normally a baby doesn’t stand up on it’s two legs for a couple months! He’s only a week old!

* Stan bought a “baby month development guide” book and that soon proves to be no help*

*Learns to sit and crawl very early (too stubborn to walk though)*

*Tries to eat and put every possible non edible object in sight in his mouth. Even before he starts teething*

*Georgie and him are still close, he’s like the younger sibling that Bill and Georgie never asked for. Georgie and Penny have become partners in crime and like to harass Bill. But at the same time Penny also sometimes sees Georgie as food and gets very interested in his arms..... luckily it will be a long while til Penny gets teeth*

*Pennywise is very attached to Beverly, sees her as his mom, and acts like a angel only for her. But when she’s not around—-his true nature comes out. Beverly thinks the boys are overreacting when they complain about how much of a little monster he is*

*Can shapeshift But not as well, he’s just a baby so he’s still learning. Only parts of him will shapeshift, like instead of turning into a full werewolf only werewolf ears will sprout on his head, instead of a full spider——only spider legs will sprout from his waist. sneezing and hiccuping affect his shapeshifting hiccups will make him rapidly change forms (like Maui in Moana when he first tries shapeshifting with his hook) and sneezing will cause parts of him to shapeshift “ah, ah, ah, ACHOO” (werewolf ears spring out on top of his head)*

*He can float.......Well, the actual wording for it would be levitate but he refers to it as floating. Which as you can imagine makes baby proofing impossible*

*Speaking of floating, instead of sleepwalking he also “sleep floats” meaning in the middle of the night randomly while fast asleep he will levitate/float out of his crib and around the house, making the losers freak out once they find out he’s not in the crib anymore and so they have to get a butterfly net and chase him around the house and catch him without waking anybody in the house or him up*

*Oh boy, changing diapers———Well first off, baby clown poop and pee smells even worse then normal human baby bodily fluids. In the words of Richie “It smells like something died in there” for the actual changing part sometimes Penny won’t want to sit still and will try to roll off of the changing mat, or he’ll float off the mat and in the air. Other things to worry about is——he can shapeshift, he can change his gender in the middle of a change throwing everyone off, will shapeshift different wieners or will shapeshift multiple wieners so you have multiple wieners spraying pee at you meaning by the time you are done you are going to be soaked in urine*

*his throw up is like acid. One time his tummy wasn’t feeling too good and one of the boys were playing around with him and lifted him up in the air and “BLEGH” all over their shirt. Penny is all happy and smiley now cause he feels all better while the loser is screaming that it burns and that it’s burning through his shirt*

*Eddie has unintentionally become——maybe just a, teeny tiny bit overprotective of Penny——-just a little bit..... Richie always jokes he’s become just like his mom. Eddie gears him with a helmet (that’s way to big and heavy for his head) they go swimming and he goes overboard with putting the swimming gear on him to the point where he’s just a blob of protective swimming gear*

*Since the losers all live in different homes with their own family they all take turns taking Pennywise home for the day, leading to interesting outcomes. Even though Penny is a toddler he catches on quite quickly that Alvin marsh isn’t a good person and quickly dispises him and brings it upon himself to f*ck with him every chance he gets, non of the adults can see penny so Alvin is 100% convinced a ghost baby is trying to kill him. Every time it’s Richie’s day to take Penny home with him penny always comes back with a new curse word, and they all know who probably taught it to him..... eventually Richie is banned from watching Pennywise...... Mike lives on a farm, oh those poor poor animals..... Ben is kinda scared of Pennywise since Pennywise sees Ben as food since he’s so chubby. Penny pokes Ben’s skin fat, and calls him things like “Pig” or Yum” But since Ben is into reasearch and history Ben would probably try to show him all the newspapers and stuff he’s collected, and then have to take them away from Pennywise since whatever you hand to him his first instinct is to shove it in his mouth or chew on it. Ben also would try to do research to find out what the heck Pennywise is exactly, Stan would be too busy with studying for his Bar Mitzvah to play with Pennywise. Although one doesn’t simply ignore Pennywise, when Pennywise wants attention you give Pennywise f***ing attention. Penny would listen to Stan read for a while but then get bored and decide that Stan has read enough for the day and start tearing the pages out of the book much to Stan’s panic and anger*

*Pennywise is very mischievous, all toddlers are mischievous usually. But Pennywise does things intentionally just to get a reaction out of you. He knows he’s not supposed to do it, but he’s gonna do it anyway. In fact saying “No” only seems to encourage him. The words “No” and “Spit that out” have never been yelled so many times with little results. He seems to run on reverse logic “No! Don’t touch that!” Pennywise stares at the loser—- frozen in place with his arm reached out in mid touch of said forbidden object. His eyes flicking looking at the loser, to the object, loser——object, loser——object, touch, no touch, touch, no touch, as if contemplating his next move. Still looking at the loser, Penny slowly extended his hand out, before the loser scolded him again making him freeze, Penny looked at the loser again. The loser shook his head, “No, you don’t do that” Penny mimicked his head movement, shaking his head. The loser nodded “yes, that’s right, “no”” Penny slowly nodded along with him.... and extended his hand again “NO!” Penny shook his head again then nodded and finally make contact with the object, knocking it down and smashing it to a thousand pieces. “Spit that out!” Pennywise slowly shoves the object farther and farther down his mouth with every “No” the losers yell.*

*he eventually learns to talk, can’t say a full sentence but can say some words clearly or if he tries to say a sentence it’s not the full sentence, a couple words unintentionally skipped. “Where going?” Instead of “where are you (or we) going” “Wha doing?” (What are you doing?) etc. Can say all the losers names “Bill” Eddie” “Richie” “Stan” “Ben” “Bev” or “mama” “Mike” and calls Georgie “George” can say “float” of course, can say his full name or short name surpriseingly. “Pennywise” or “Penny” (he’s very proud of his name for some reason)

*In the movie there was going to be a “smoke hole scene” where we would’ve got to see Pennywise coming to earth but due to budget we didn’t get that scene cause it would cause to much cgi. Well in here they don’t have to do a special ritual cause they can just ask Pennywise! Who is happy to tell them except he’s a baby and all that comes out is gibberish since his vocabularie is still very limited so instead he tried to show them by drawing! But he’s a baby and his drawing and coloring skills aren’t that——readable.... so it becomes a guessing game trying to figure out what the heck that drawing is supposed to be.*

*his intelligence is very selectable, he chooses when he wants to do something, and some things just don’t make sense. Like he can write his full name in a style that would make any professional artist jealous but his drawing and coloring is that of a toddler (which does make sense cause he’s a toddler) he likes Henry a lot and calls him “Bow Wow” (bowers, bow wow) Why? Nobody knows. And sometimes calls him Henry but yet for some reason he can’t pronounce Patrick Hocksetters last name and the H turns into a C..... for once Richie did not teach him this but is very proud of him. And one day out of the blue penny started responding to the losers in Swedish...... no one knows why, there isn’t anything Swedish that he was exposed to lately but they now have a Swedish translation dictionary to find out what the heck he’s saying...*

*Always maneges to steal Eddie’s inhaler and then Eddie has to chase him to get it back*

*Loves water. So bath time is a lot of fun, that also mean they gotta keep him from trying to eat the bath products and the water etc..... also has a fascination with the sewers and always tries to go there but of course the losers stop him*

*when penny gets mad he pouts, making his pudgy little cheek puff out and he’ll refuse to look at said person that made him angry and maneuver himself so he’s facing the opposite direction of that person*

[toukaisbetterthanyou]

The one where anon fumes in rage for the second half of the chapter

After chapter 143, I never thought I would read this looking for some lightheartedness.

I just found out I have a tag on your blog and I screamed to my fiancée happily about it. Once he made sure I wasn’t going into early labor, he told me to stop being a fucking weeb. He doesn’t understand I just made it! This is awesome!

On to the review then, the title does not bode well given the story’s content.

I hope the read more trick works.

He looks over to where she’s pointing, and sure enough there seemed to be a family of squirrels resting on a branch parallel to their window.

Squirrels mean preparation and resourcefulness. I see the symbolism. ;P

“You look like you’re happy,” She murmurs. “What’s the occasion?”

…

He hasn’t seen her look this happy in a long time.

Just how bad were the last 5 months if a simple smile and flush is something he hasn’t seen in a long time? Bitch, your relationship hasn’t reached the 6 months mark yet!

he rarely kissed like this these days.

Hatefucking is now the norm in their sex life. Can’t say I blame them. When your relationship is so fucked up, your only option is to drown out your thoughts in vigorous thrusting and serial orgasms.

She gives him a mockingly surprised look. “You can do that?”

Own him, Touka!

For a moment, he wonders if he would need to speed up his timeline.

Can he even do that? He can’t change the Rushima operation date and it would be stupid to fight Arima with the entire CCG still in Tokyo.

 and transferring a large amount of the money in his bank account into a private account that he had opened earlier that week in his free time.

I swear I need an act of congress signed by Jesus himself to move more than $1000 from my account and this guy is transferring large amounts with a phone app? Into a recently made account? Makes sense since Japan doesn’t have the Patriot Act but still, it looks suspicious and can be traced. He should know better than that.

He frowns, wondering if he would need to hide them. Lock her away, so that no one would be able to find her.

Why not put her in Cochlea with Hinami? At least she will help her with the baby when your ass is dead and gone. The fact that these thoughts are even occurring to him is scary since he can do it if he wants and Touka would be helpless to stop him

Though, that wouldn’t make her happy. 

But this wasn’t just about her happiness, was it?

No, it’s about your selfishness and tragic dark hero complex you moron!

He looks around the space of the living room and can hardly recognize the change from a few months ago when he got the place. 

What had happened?

A woman’s touch.

It felt like home. God, he wanted to laugh at how struck he was by all of this. Would it even matter when he went through with his plans? His child would grow up without him and Touka 

I hate that you are making me sympathize with this fuckboy.

She peers from the kitchen, her hair, falling below her shoulders. She kept it clipped up with a hair claw he had gotten her.

Long hair Touka is a BIG MOOD! Thank you for the image.

but Yoriko had went on and on about how simple it was to make

OMG did my trick with wiping Furuta’s name work and now Yoriko is part of the story? (I know this is from school memories but let me dream I have superpowers)

His fingers twitch, longing to feel the movement of their child. 

Do I even deserve it?

No. You plan to abandon this kid in a world that despises it so you can keep those fingers to yourself.

The baby doesn’t kick when he tries to feel it though. He’s tried, it’s like his child already knew him well enough.

I like this kid. Carlos making me proud.

He didn’t deserve happiness at the expense of her life. 

He didn’t deserve it at all, in fact.

 I hate that you are making me sympathize with this fuckboy.

There hadn’t been any arguments,

I wish we could have gotten a glimpse to one of these arguments.

“Isn’t Papa handsome, Touka-chan?” She’d ask, and then she’d hug him tightly, drawing both herself and Ayato into the hug as well. It’s the last time she remembers ever feeling so safe.

/UGLY CRYING/

– Right down to the tragic ending.

Is that why you picked a guy who has Tragedy as his middle name? Recreating childhood trauma?

“I do,” he insists. “Trust me.”

If someone insists that you should trust them, you probably shouldn’t.

and lets her pick out the cake she would be having after dinner tonight.

I don’t know if this is intentional or not but it’s an odd choice of phrase “let her pick” as if he is controlling every aspect of her life. Oh fuck, he kinda is, isn’t he?

Ken lets himself in,

Still with that nasty habit of his.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU RUDE ASS BITCH?!!!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG YOU HAVE TO WAIT FOR YOUR APPOINTMENT AND YOU JUST BARGE IN YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A NOT EVEN A HUMAN BEING?!!!! LET ME SEE HOW WELL THAT KAGUNE WORKS FOR YOU WHEN YOU HAVE 20 CRANKY PREGNANT WOMEN TACKLING YOU TO THE GROUND!!!!

All my sympathy for this fuckboy just flew out the window.

And clearly terrified.

Doctors can kill you, Ken. Why the fuck are you putting the fear of Ishida into this man? That’s like being rude to your waiter and being surprised when you find out they spat in your food.

What a dick.

There’s a crack.

 WTF?!

He had popped his shoulder right out of place.

Whaaaat the fuuuuck?!

“Do you have any idea the kind of things that this man has done?” He asks, directing his question to her, then. “To ghouls? Specifically to ghoul women?” 

YOU SHOULD BE ONE TO TALK YOU HYPOCRITICAL FUCK! Are you telling me the award winning ghoul killer is now showing concern for his victims?

Ken continues, clearly getting a thrill out all of this

/Insert gif of Selina Meyer’s nervous WTF/

“Are you really in a position to talk? You kill ghouls everyday.”

THANK YOU TOUKA!

No, it didn’t. She likes to pretend most of the times. The last three months had been nothing but a happy dream. Ken isn’t the same anymore, even if he pretended to be meek and gentle with her now, that isn’t him at all. This was him. She just had to accept it.

This just made me depressed. Why does it have to be like this?

He tests her blood and the urine, not waiting for any lab work, knowing that Sasaki would not take that well, he does it himself.

I am fuming right now because I know those need at least an hour so that appointment took at least an hour and all those poor women are waiting outside till they finish.

Fuck you Kaneki.

One of his gloved hands intertwined with hers. She was so warm to the touch.

What kind of flimsy ass gloves are those if you can feel her temperature through them?

 even Yomo-san was excited about the new child, asking her about it, and constantly asking to touch her belly in his shy and quiet way.

Gruncle Yomo hype!

He was more than excited to rush the two of them out of his office.

He’ll be more than excited to rat the two of you out as soon as chance permits.

She doesn’t notice the dark, amused look that Ken casts back on the doctor.

Plot twist: Ken has an affair with the doctor and the whole scene before was part of their kinky SM scenes. (Ignore that)

“I love you,” Ken rasps against her mouth.

Fuck you.

(Well, Touka is doing that but I mean that metaphorically you line-cutting bastard)

just like the ones that make her eyes blank and roll behind her lids.

That’s probably because you shouldn’t be lying flat on your back once you enter the second trimester. The good doctor would have told you that if your boyfriend didn’t terrify the fuck out of him.

The sight of her completely tired and sated because of him, sends a thrill up his spine.

I hate to say this but same, Kaneki, same.

The baby seems to kick him right on his cheek as Ken leans in to nuzzle her belly. As if to tell his father that he was being ridiculous.

At least now we know both Ken and Touka have a recessive gene for common sense since the baby seems to have more of it than they do.

“I hope – that you’re like your mama. I hope I can make you both happy and proud.”

/Insert Kristen Wiig’s Bridesmaids are you fucking kidding me gif/

look over the email he had drafted to his good friend, another Associate Class investigator.

I KNEW IT! THIS IS KARMA! THAT BEAUTIFUL BITCH!

But why didn’t the doctor contact his investigator friend when Ken first threatened him though? His terror means they met before but he needed a dislocated shoulder to ask for his friend’s help?

He would look over the contents in his car and send the email.

What is in his car? Why is it important to check before the email? Does this have anything to do with Kanou’s experiments?

He’s too busy shoving his files inside his briefcase to notice the glint of metal glass frames and a fringe of dark hair.

This is such a well-written line, thrilling.

A smile comes across her lips as she thinks about that.

You’re keeping your expectations pretty low if that is what makes you smile.

of the S ranked ghoul Yotsume

SS ghoul! Put some respeck on her rank!

Touka grips the letter, hard enough to shred the paper. Stupid – she had been so fucking stupid.

Guess who is coming home to a vase thrown at their face? I want Touka to pack her stuff and call Nishiki to come pick her up! Put her stuff in the car and wait to punch Ken in the face then leave. Does he think some baby clothes and cushions will make her ignore her baby sister being thrown in jail? Fuck no, you got a big storm coming, Kaneki.

SO MUCH HYPE FOR NEXT CHAPTER!

By the way, I started writing a review for Aphrodisia but my fiancée heard “impregnation kink” and decided to join me in reading and we uh, got distracted. Future hubby is now a huge fan of yours though despite not knowing anything about the manga besides chapter 125. He says he related a lot to Kaneki in the second chapter (big surprise, huh?) despite not being a king or having any murder tentacles sprouting from his back so great job on that one.

[kp-reading-blog]

Best Served Cold: A Short Story by Jasmine Silvera

Best Served Cold is a short story by Jasmine Silvera from her KP world of Death's Dancer. It fills in some backstory about the world and serves as a great introduction for new readers to try it out!

About Best Served Cold

Best Served Cold takes place after Death’s Dancer and features Azrael’s enforcer Gregor Schwarz writing wrongs and settling scores with a new ally. 

A Note from Jasmine Silvera

It always delights me that people responded so well to Gregor, Azrael’s enforcer, from Death’s Dancer. He was one of my favorite characters to write. This story was initially intended to be the prologue to his book, but the timeline doesn’t work so I had to cut it. I hope readers will enjoy this “slice of life” from Gregor’s day. Or night, as it were. 

Best Served Cold

The ancient pug, wheezing as he inspected each cobblestone in the sidewalk, snuffled in alarm and raised his head. His ears twitched upward. When the dog splayed its legs and urinated in place, the stooped woman quit patting her pockets for a match and crowed with delight.

“Dobře, dobře, Ferda.” She praised the dog, the hand rolled cigarette bobbing on her lower lip. 

Accustomed to more meandering searches for the perfect spot, she thanked her luck, pocketed the unlit cigarette, and turned for home. Her thoughts raced ahead to her bed, warming under the electric blanket, and the novel waiting beside it. She looked back. The dog stood rooted in place, staring fixed into the vast darkness across the street.

Under the new moon, the dense bushes and trees cast Riegrovy Sady - the expansive city park straddling two of Prague's oldest neighborhoods – in velvet shadow. The silent street lined with parked cars formed a no-man’s land between the lit sidewalk bordering apartment buildings and the sweeping mystery of night.

“Ferda!”

He began to bark. Through rheumy eyes, the woman watched his hackles rise. He circled once and raced to the edge of the sidewalk, growling. 

“Co tam máš?” she asked the dog, not waiting for clarification before attempting to calm him. “Nic to není.”

When the bushes on the park border stirred, he fell silent. His nose twitched. His vocalization became a high-pitched whine. He backed slowly between his owner's feet, and lay down. 

“V klidu,” she murmured, voice trembling. Was she reassuring herself or the dog?

The long nights of her childhood returned to her in a rush, evenings spent at the hearth of her grandmother, listening to fairy tales from the old days. She rubbed her neck absently, thinking this was the kind of night Likho might choose to roam. Had the dog's early urination been the unexpected boon which would lure the goblin?

Old stories, she chastised herself, to scare children and amuse fools. Still, her heart hammered at speeds unhealthy for her age. She squinted into the shadows, calling out a threat to notify the police, as she clutched her walking stick tighter in one hand. The bushes rustled again, as something moved - something bigger than a dog and lower than a man. The next morning she would swear she hadn’t seen a long nose, a set of yellow eyes, and a black-plumed tail. 

Tonight was not a night for self-deception. “Vlkodlak,” she breathed.

Ferda chose that moment to break and run. Tiny claws scrambled on the squared off stones, before stubby legs propelled him toward their flat.  

She hurried after, waving her stick, and muttering about big, feral dogs. When she looked over her shoulder, the bushes were still again, and the park silent.

***

The wolf moved between the trees of the city park, leaving the fear-drenched scents of woman and dog behind. He was larger than a wild wolf would have been, a uniform black from nose to tail, except for his startling eyes. He kept to the shadows, like a manifestation of their depths, moving with purpose and awareness beyond the lupine mind, as he alternately stalked and raced along the underbrush.

 Behind him, a man from another century kept pace as an ordinary human could not have. Dressed in black from head to toe, a long coat flared behind Gregor like a cloak as he ran. Between his shoulders, a vague suggestion of steel coalesced at his back.

That was our street. He paused as they veered away from the curb and the distantly keening dog. 

The wolf bared his canines, his mental voice human. I'm not giving an old lady a heart attack, so you can take a shortcut.

Eyes the color of a winter sky flashed with humor. Have it your way, Markus.

Come now, isn't this nice? The wolf's tongue lolled from his mouth, lips pulling back to show teeth in an uncannily human expression. Night air, no moon. 

Gregor could think of half a dozen ways he'd rather spend the shortest night of the year, but this opportunity was too good to miss. It would have been much nicer in the car. Faster, too.

The wolf sat back on his haunches and scratched absently at one ear with a hind paw. Nice enough to justify the hair on your seats?

Not that nice. 

The wolf watched the man take the lead before he rose to follow. 

Gregor glanced over his shoulder once and tried not to imagine canines at the back of his neck. The long way, it is.

They emerged on the other end of the park, slowing to a brisk walk on the uneven streets. The wolf fell in to a perfect heel at his left knee. To the casual eye, they bore a fleeting resemblance to a businessman taking his very large dog out for a final walk of the night. But casual eyes weren't the only ones about in the city this late. And no one who recognized him would have dared to pass on the same side of the street.  

Still, there was his quarry to consider. It would not do well to spook her and ruin the whole evening. And fate only knew when he'd get another perfect chance to settle a score. Two birds, one stone.

Without looking up, the wolf asked, Going to tell me who we're hunting?

You'll see soon enough. Gregor checked his watch. Look, I know these joint patrols were Azrael's idea.  

The wolf paused to sniff at the wheel of a Jaguar. He lifted his leg, before moving on. Gregor's mouth twitched irrepressibly. 

The wolf glanced at him. What?

Appreciating your choice in targets.

The wolf sniffed. They continued on. Look, Greg, you and I aren't on the best terms.

Gregor's jaw clenched. The wolf snuck a look, and his ribcage expanded as he issued a lupine chuckle. It was disconcerting.

You should know that I asked for you, specifically, Gregor said.

That silenced his companion. A member of the Allegiance of Necromancers that controlled the world divided into in eight territories, Azrael had chosen Prague as his seat. How business was conducted in his capitol city set the standard in his region, and Azrael knew it.

Azrael's patrols were a regular duty among the warriors who made up his aegis - the elite corps of warriors given immortality to fight at his side. They worked the city at night making sure any non-humans behaved according to the strict code the allegiance had impressed on them to keep them from disrupting the human population. 

The addition of the only three werewolves in Prague, as well as the gift of telepathy which allowed them to communicate, was new. The wolves were intimidating enough with their preternatural size and speed. But their resistance to magical influence and intelligence made them true allies. Inclusion had also been a gesture of good faith to the pack. Giving them more visibility among the supernatural denizens of the city enabled them to better protect the coven they served. 

Most of the aegis had taken to shared patrols, appreciating the advantage a massive set of teeth could provide to any trouble they encountered. Known on the streets as the Black Blade of Azrael, Gregor preferred to work alone. Azrael had been surprised when he asked for this assignment, and the pack's alpha as a companion. 

Gregor might have asked for the youngest wolf tonight, but he was guarding his mate as she neared her time. Even Gregor would not interfere during that sacred event. Plus, he suspected the eldest and the middle brothers of being the ringleaders in the mischief with the cake. The youngest's wedding had simply provided opportunity. 

Now, it was Gregor's turn. And opportunity was everything. 

As they closed in on their destination, Gregor commented idly, Did you know, unlike German and English, the word for werewolf in Czech translates to ‘wolf and coat’? Since I can't have my pelage, I thought I ought to at least have a companion who matched my attire.

You have some balls. Markus bared his teeth, and the hair on his spine flared into high relief. The ‘coat’ in Vlkodlak refers to fur, not clothes, anyway.

When Gregor stared, Markus’s bared teeth relaxed into that odd lupine smile again. 

Everyone assumes Toby’s the smart one. The wolf cocked his head. But I know a few things, Old Man.

I assume nothing. Gregor said cheerily at the confirmation that he had picked the right brother after all. And yes, I am old enough to be your great-great, one more I think yes – grandfather. Now, we've arrived.

Gregor assessed the storefront at the base of a neoclassical building well past its prime. The windows glowed an invitation with gold light. The yeast and sugar aroma thickened the air outside the door. 

The wolf's nose twitched. He rocked back on his haunches in surprise. A bakery?

The man smoothed his coat, and the sword blinked out of visibility at his back. Indeed.

The door resisted slightly under his hand, but a muttered word and the locks slid away. He walked in, as the bell above the door tinkled brightly, holding the door for his companion. The wolf paced the shop, lifting his nose to scent the four small cafe tables and the counter. He circled back, as a small woman in her sixties came bustling from the kitchen, her arms and apron dusted with flour.

“We are closed,” she said in a flurry of Czech, before coming to a stop. “And no dogs!”

Her eyes widened with recognition. 

What are we doing here? The wolf’s head lowered.

Having a cookie. Now, be a good doggie and be quiet.

“Promiňte nám paní.” He beamed smoothly, continuing in Czech. “When I heard how special the bread was, I could not wait until morning. Permit me?”

The woman trembled approached the glass display case. “Mr. Schwarz, these are from yesterday. Too old. If you tell me what you like, I will send an order to the castle directly. Freshly baked.”

Gregor watched her carefully, assessing the offerings. He was certain her age was an illusion. It was no wonder she had gone undetected for so long. He shook his head, surveying the case with hands clasped behind his back. “I am not a patient man.”

He made his selection seem random enough, all the while watching her face. She was good, but not even half his age, and still too close to her human birth to have shed the details of body language which revealed exactly what he was looking for. He paused before a dark loaf, flecked with something resembling pistachios.

“I'll have that one,” he said, indicating with a look.

“But, sir,” she said. “We are known for our rosemary bread. This is just a rustic loaf I make for the old timers.”

“I do so love authentic cuisine,” he said with savage cheer, straightening from his examination so swiftly she jumped backward. “I will take it.”

She lowered her eyes. “Of course, sir. A moment, please.”

He waited as she withdrew the loaf, carefully wrapping it in paper, and slipping it into a paper bag. She set the package on the counter. He reached into his pocket and chased the jingle of coins.

“How much?”

“No, sir,” she said. “It is my honor to bake for the necromancer's man.”

Gregor bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile. “I insist.” 

He slid a few Czech crowns across the counter, the silhouettes of the Charles Bridge glittering silver as they caught the light. Snatching the bag, he ripped into the paper. Crumbs scattered over the clean floor as he tore the bread in half. He glanced at the wolf. “Sit.”

Markus flattened his ears and showed enough teeth to make the woman behind the counter recoil.

Gregor laughed. “Good dog.” 

The woman sucked in a breath. Gregor flung the chunk at the wolf. Massive jaws snapped twice, and the bread disappeared.

Delicious. She's good. You have a perverse sense of –

The wolf's voice cut off. His eyes darted up to the man, before narrowing at the woman. A low, uncertain growl reverberated through his chest. He sat back on his haunches and his tongue spilled helplessly from his jaws. Whining, he sank to the floor. The change began before Gregor’s eyes.

Gregor was moving before the wolf's strangled cry became a human voice. He hurdled the counter, reaching for the semi-automatic holstered under his coat with one hand and the necromancer’s throat in the other. He pinned her to the wall and the air left her chest in a rush.

“Adelaide Haase, you are under arrest for violation of your license,” he snarled.

“I only make it as a defense for the elders,” she choked, glaring at the gun’s muzzle. “So they are not taken in confidence by those duplicitous creatures.”

“You know who I am?” It was a question offered with surprise, rather than boast. 

As Azrael's Head of Security, his face was synonymous with the necromancer's rule. The position afforded respect, but he had earned the fear which accompanied the recognition on his own. 

She nodded, and he felt her swallow against his palm.

“Yet, you lie to me,” he said, glancing at the now-incapacitated wolf on the floor. 

Markus was stuck between his forms. His body was human, but his hands were still mostly paws, and his feet haired with wolf pelt. His head maintained most of its lupine features, even in human shape. 

Gregor turned his attention back to the young necromancer. “A licensed necromancer not practicing in favor of owning a bakery was strange enough to attract attention. But the loaf worked fast, so you're clearly not out of practice. That kind of spell work takes more than a few pastries to support.”

She met his eyes. “I don't know what you're insinuating,”

He pitched her across the room into the tables and chairs, sending them clattering to the floor. “Where are the others?”

“There are no others!” She managed to get to her knees and elbows much faster than a woman her apparent age should have.

His expression turned thoughtful. “Your buyer seemed to think you sold in bulk.” 

The necromancer’s eyes darted around the room, betraying her.

“She's casting,” Markus growled in warning.

Gregor lunged and grabbed her by the ankle, flinging her into the wall. She slid down, unconscious. 

“Not anymore,” he announced, snatching a cloth off one of the remaining tables and tossing it in the general direction of the man’s haunches. “Keep an eye on her?”

He gave Markus credit for remaining functional. The man levered himself to the fallen necromancer's side, glancing around for a weapon. Gregor handed off the gun on his way behind the counter. 

“Try not to kill her,” Gregor said as an afterthought. “Azrael would like to have a word.”

Markus managed a decent grip with his more hand-like paw and grunted assent.

Gregor passed through the swinging door to the kitchen. In the silent space, he appraised mounds of unfinished bread and bowls of half-mixed fillings, which had collapsed when Adelaide was rendered unconscious. Apparently, the necromancer was also using her power to do the bulk of the baking. There was work here for four people, but she was the only one in the shop.

Except, she wasn't. 

His eyes swept the room. It was a tidy kitchen, but no matter how clean, a bakery always accumulated a fine layer of flour dust in the oddest of places. 

Though not a creature of magic by nature being bound to a necromancer had its advantages. Centuries of service had taught Gregor a few things about sensing power. If a little bit of Azrael's had rubbed off on him over time, he used it to his advantage. 

He followed his instinct to the blank wall. However, now that he was looking for it, the break in the flour where the wall met the floor seemed obvious. As well as the slight semi-circle of white dust left by the opening and closing of a door where there should be none.

The sword at his back became solid only when he reached for it. A symbol of his vow to Azrael and a gift of power, the blade coalesced like black smoke as he drew. He touched the still translucent tip to the wall. It went solid instantly at contact with power other than itself. He murmured the words of the same unlocking geas he'd used on the door outside. The wall gave up its hidden door with the sound of reluctant lock tumblers sliding into line. He sheathed the blade, grabbed the newly visible handle, and pulled. 

The hard light of the kitchen spilled into the hidden room beyond. He made out half a dozen bodies, after overcoming the pungent reek of fear and animal. The mix of skin and feathers and fur was tangled and matted with captivity. Six pairs of eyes stared up at him, some from human faces, some from the faces of the animals they had been. Mostly birds, a few mice, and even a tabby cat. All lured with crumbs, and captured to be traded or sold. 

Gregor crouched low, and the captives shrank away from him. He exposed his palms and spoke in slow, formal Czech. “You're free now, by command of the Necromancer Azrael. Your captor will be punished for her crimes. Our people will be here soon to offer you succor, should you require it.”

He watched their expressions, fear and hopelessness falling away as his words registered. He repeated himself in German, English, and Dutch, suspecting one of the leggier birds was a heron common in the Netherlands.

He heard the front door open, and Rory's voice at the counter. “What the hell happened to you, Mark?”

Markus' reply was too low for Gregor to catch. Rory had to duck to enter the kitchen, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Is this about the bloody cake, mate?”

Gregor shrugged. “He’ll live.”

“The Consort is going to lose her mind.” Rory sighed. 

“I'll see her in the sparring ring, at her convenience.” Gregor said pleasantly.

“She’s going to gut you.” Rory eyed him with the patience of familiarity. 

“She may try.” Gregor showed teeth.

Rory’s brow rose. “Azrael will be happy to do it for her. I hope it's worth it.”

“Always.” Gregor snugged his coat and changed the subject. “You secured Haase for transport?”

Rory looked insulted. Gregor apologized with a shrug.

“I've called for a recovery team to pick them up.” Rory took in the little room and its huddled occupants with a frown. “Terrible business, this.”

“And Markus?”

“In the Rover, pissed as hell.” Rory chuckled, shaking his head. “Go. I'll stay until they’re sorted. Try not to rub his nose in it too much.”

“That's no fun.”

Gregor strode out of the bakery, brushing a bit of flour from his lapels. Aelfir, Azrael's Nordic bruiser, prodded the revived necromancer toward the transport vehicle. Gregor paused to check she was bound and warded to keep her from attempting escape. It was a cursory check. She knew she was done. Her head hung low in defeat. Azrael's punishment would be severe, and every supernatural in his territory would know of it. Gregor did not waste pity on her.  

Next, he walked to Rory's Range Rover and opened the back door. Markus was curled up on the seat in a blanket. With a shudder, his body tried to transition to wolf and failed. He groaned and shivered wildly. The bread forced the transformation, but arresting midway it was a nice trick.

“Don't worry,” Gregor purred at the shape-shifter. “It will wear off in a day or so. Perhaps Mommy has something which can speed it up “

“You're a real dick, Old Man, you know that, right?” Markus managed a snarl, his eyes stuck between wolf muddy yellow and a more human shade of hazel. “I should have let her turn you into a toad.”

“I am grateful for the warning she was trying to cast,” Gregor said. “There are six shifters free to return to their lives, thanks to you. Consider us even.”

“Even?” 

Gregor's smile widened. “For the Schwarzhirsch.”

Gregor and the wolves had a rocky start, but the pack had made a peace offering in the only way they knew how—a practical joke. The joke, a cake in the shape of the stag in Gregor's family crest, was made from red velvet. Markus had taken particular pleasure in hacking the thing bloody and handing out forks.

Gregor decided revenge was best served cold, and slightly stale. Markus glared up at him, but he couldn't keep the corner of his lips from twitching upward. 

“This is just the beginning, Old Man,” Markus promised. “Welcome to the family.”

Gregor closed the door on his laughter and strode away.  

A flat black Audi roadster vibrated slightly at his approach and the headlights winked on. Finally, the replacement for his beloved automobile had arrived. He hoped he wouldn’t regret acquiescing to Azrael’s insistence on electric. The engineers had assured him he wouldn’t suffer a loss of performance. An undead boy leapt out of the driver's seat, holding the door as the car chimed a familiar, pleasant greeting.

“Up past our bedtime, aren't we, Dr. Sato?” Gregor asked, wondering what the Consort's attaché was doing delivering his car.

“Lord Azrael thought it a good idea I start participating in patrols,” Tyler said. He corrected himself at Gregor's scowl. “Taking on additional responsibilities.”

Gregor wondered how much of Tyler's being here was Azrael's idea, and how much Tyler’s own. The boy seemed determined to rise from his position as attaché to something more substantial. 

“I take it he's keeping the Consort out of trouble all by himself.” Gregor smirked, sliding into the car.

Tyler flushed. “The Academy, sir. It's the Summer Showcase. Issy's friend is performing.”

“The martial artist,” Gregor pondered.

“Trinh,” Tyler said, a little too sharply. 

The dancer had made a point of cornering both men. In their brief interaction, she'd announced it did not matter how old either was, she would cut them into too many pieces to be recovered, if they harmed Isela Vogel. 

The idea that Gregor would, or could, harm the Consort was laughable at best. His life was hers now, as it was Azrael's. He didn't have to like it, but he would obey it with every fiber of his being. Such was his vow, not just the one he'd taken to Azrael. Still, he'd been too charmed by the fearless eye contact be offended by the threat. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one.

“She's too much woman for you, little one,” Gregor said, eyebrow raised. “Perhaps I'll catch the second half. If I hurry, I may make the end of intermission.” 

He slammed the car door in the younger man’s face. He slipped the car in gear and swung away from the curb. On the way, he woke up his favorite florist with a call, arranging for a delivery of roses to meet him at the theater. 

The florist spoke around a yawn. “The card, Sir?”

“To new beginnings.” 

Death's Dancer

Check out Death's Dancer, the world where Best Served Cold comes from!

Summer Solstice

Death's Dancer short story is also featured in the Kindle Press Anthology Summer Solstice. You can get it from Instafreebie for free!