#things that will pull my out of my hidey hole

[keferon]

I’ve been reading through your Spellbound AU and thought of something funny, so naturally I wrote a short story for it.

My take on how Jazz came to work for Orion.

———————————————————————

Jazz slunk across ruined stonework overtaken by forest growth. Form shifting as subtly as the shadows he crossed.

Which would it be?

Tall and slim? Nah, that one already served it’s purpose. The twins saw something lank and dark looming in the trees, and now the young knights were distracted looking over their shoulders.

A hulking brute? No, that’d inspire an all out confrontation. Jazz already had all of them keyed up to act on instinct.

The twins were easy. Young and expecting a straight fight. Pax, his target, was harder to ruffle. He had the reputation of a courageous selfless hero and damned if the mech wasn’t dedicated to the ruse.

Pax wasn’t spooked, but he did take his underlings concerns seriously. He marched forward as a pillar of confidence and safety, but Jazz caught the way his gaze scanned the ruins. His white shadow seemed indifferent, but he was just an audience member anyways, not a real fighter.

Primed to play the part. Pax just needed his queue.

Jazz got into place on his stage. He shifted into something small and weak (in appearance alone). Bent a leg at an unhealthy looking angle, and slumped like he was exhausted and chased here.

Jazz sat with his back against the wall, the partially collapsed stone room was small enough that a mech of Orion’s stature would have difficulty moving quickly. It had the nice bonus of blocking anyone else from coming through the main entry point as well.

Through a crack in the wall, Jazz watched as the leader in blue and red got closer, his “loyal knights” lagging behind. The white one lagged as well, distracted by scolding the twins for being distracted.

Jazz focused on his target. Pulled at a thread from within Pax and strung it within his own chest.

Jazz set his new voice and with all the terror and innocence he could conjure screamed.

H̴͉̮́͂͗̐͌̍̇E̸̡̞̅̎̒͗͂L̷̛̻͎̮̽̏͝͝P̴̛̭͈͌̔̃̊͛̓ ̶͉̩̖̔͛͋̃ͅP̴̫͔̖͔̼͗̑̔͘͝L̸͓̣͖̫̭͎̊́̑̀͐̈́Ḙ̶͕̪̳̟̥͂̓̈̅͂͝Á̵̖̳̱͙͋ ̸̭̤̹̔͑͒̈͆̓͘Ȏ̵̡̥͈̪̟͛́̑͆̐͜Ḣ̷̡̻̪̘̯̹̊̂́̒͠ ̷̭̭͕̙̟̬͈̇̄̌̅̂̚̕W̸̺̯̦͔̼͇̄H̷͖͛̎͐̄͊̂͝À̶̘̙̈́̎͛̒͘ͅṰ̴̻͉̜͂̐̽̀̇ ̴̬͓̝̞̀̆̕T̸̙̖̲̺̯̆͛͜Ḥ̵̱͚͕͔̆̉ͅȆ̶͙̆́́̌̋ ̵̧͔͔̰̰̰͕̿͂̆̂̅̅F̵͕̘̰͓̓̔͜͜U̵̧̝̳̔̍̇̅̿͜͜͝Ç̵͎̎̓̒̓̊̂K̷̨̈́?̶̱͈̖̺̘͓͆̄͒͋

He slapped a hand over his mouth.

Outside, everyone went deathly quiet. Jazz didn’t dare move.

“Um.” Spoke their fearless leader.

Who apparently had thing for asthmatic dragons.

“Are you alright in there?”

Movement started to approach his hidey hole. Jazz could still salvage this. He could.

The white shadow came through first. Damn it. New plan: save own life.

Jazz plucked a new voice from him and made himself look as unthreatening as possible.

“ - ?! !”

Nothing. He loves the concept of nothing. Not even a celebrity crush? A favorite singer? The sound of his own voice?

Some of the functionalists were like that. That’s probably half the reason they “allowed” him to take on their commissions. All the money in their coffers wasn’t worth this however.

The white mech frowned, scanning over Jazz with a cold blue look. He turned back to the entrance, “Sir, there is a ‘hypothetically’ injured person inside the building. Most likely they orchestrated our current circumstances in an attempt to assassinate you.”

Jazz lunged from the wall, dagger slipping between armor gaps to pierce the spoil-sports spark, ready to dash past in the resulting chaos when his lifeless body guttered before them.

And just like his voice, Jazz got nothing instead.

He gaped at the way his blade cut into hollow air beneath the plates. Numbly, he pulled out his dagger and stabbed again, like it’d do something different this time. The mech was unamused.

“Sir, the assassin is trying to assassinate me.”

Jazz pulled a working voice, “I̷͕͍̓̒͝ͅ’̵̝̂m̵̼̲̓́ ̷͚̑́͗͜n̶̢̬͈̉o̷̦̓̎͝ṱ̶̟̼͒͊ ̵̨̮̠̿̀ǎ̷̫̹n̶̫̜̚̕ ̸̹͙͐a̵̛̯̻̹s̶͍̈́s̵̳̲͎͂a̷̻͉̅͆̑s̴̛̫̞̽̈s̵̳̑į̸̝̽̊n̷̙̟̤͊!̸̪̃”. And discontinued his failing assassin attempt to cringe.

A massive hand closed around Jazz’s wrist, stopping him cold.

“Do not.” Orion lessened his grip but did not release him, “Harm my friends.”

Jazz had to crane his head back considerably to make eye contact. Orion was built like a brick house and Jazz had enough experience fighting mechs like him to know his kill window was gone.

Groveling it is!

“Į̷̧̲̍͝ ̴̟̩̗̀̿̊a̵̹͙̔m̵̠̜̳͍̀̽̾̏ ̷͕͕̔̿͆̂s̸̡͋ơ̵̦̜ ̶͍̫͔͔̒̈̈́̌s̶̻͓͔̆͜ò̸͙̥̻̀r̷̢̠̈r̵̘͑̎͂y̸̰͓͆͗̔.̵̯͇́̌͒ ̵̳̞̏̇̕I̶̦͚̦͠’̸̞̯͙̟́ḿ̵̢̜̅̍͜ͅ ̴̮̩͓̀̓̈͜j̷̻̒̀u̷̯͂͋ŝ̴̭͇̱͎͑͆ẗ̶͎̬͗́͝ ̷̥̰̗̃a̸̼̫̦̾̚ ̶͕͉̓͌͋͝d̴͖̗̰̒̎̈͘ͅe̸̗̞̤̲̽͗̈́͛s̸̖͐p̵̢̎͊e̴̢͖͉͑̿̾͘r̶̩̬̰̈́́ą̵̧̰̋̊͝t̶̻̯̞̦̆e̷̱̥̪̍͜ ̴̠̱̼̣̌̾t̴̙̐̔h̵̟̪͈͛̚ǐ̶͕ě̴̻̺f̸͕̠̯̤̀̆!̷̗̩̩̃̽ ̷̮̩̆̾Ǐ̷͍̭ ̴͕͕́ṅ̸̗̰e̸̯̱̝͚͆͂v̴̛͓͉͇̍́e̴̺̞͖͂͑̏͐͜r̶̢̼͠ ̴̗͙̐͒̋̚m̸͓͆͐e̶̱̩͕̐̚͠a̵͉͇̟̺̋̇̑n̶̢̖̙̣̾͝t̷̘̔ ̵̦̉̈́̈́͗t̵̳̻͇̔̎̃͜o̴͈͖̓ ̵̬̦̞͖͌͋͂͆h̷̲̓͑̎̃a̵̛͇̾͗r̵̠̗̩̾̏̈̚m̸̭̃ ̷̢̗͇͈͑͊a̵̧̠͑̒̚ ̵̢͉̮̌̀k̵̼͈͎̳͒̀̐͂ǹ̸̛̘͈͔í̶͓̜̜͉g̸̨̖̗̜̽͊ĥ̷͉̫͉̻̾̽̉t̵̜̣̲̹̑ ̸̡͒̃o̶̮͉̺͝r̷̬̎̓̚͝ ̵̡̠̩̓̈́̐̏ḣ̶̨͖̼̥̎́i̶̖̋͝s̷̻͍̭̒͜ ̵̢̖͓̿̍̌̾f̶̣̜̒̎r̶̝̈͊̍̋ǐ̶̝͓̱̱̆̐ẹ̷́̅n̴̢̛̘̍ḑ̷̪̈́̀͒̚ŝ̷͍̹!̷̪͙͕̬̐ ̵̨̡͆̏P̸̧̢̼̿͝l̶̡̧͔̳̍̉͋̆ẽ̶͉ȁ̸̦̜̤̀̉ͅs̴̮̙͍̘̐̂̉e̴͇͚͊̔̈́͋ ̸̧̳͒̈̃͠h̸̡̧̰͛̈͐ͅḁ̷͔̗̱̓̌̉v̸͖̼͓̜̽̏ę̵̬̤͎̄̅̓͆ ̷͍̯̗̥̋̀͛̉m̸̹͈͔̑͂͠ͅé̴͎͕ȑ̴̢̖̘̎c̴͙͇͙̤̐̔͒̕y̷̨͈͗͛͛!̶̹͝͝”

Orion cringed behind the mask.

“I- I’m sorry I don’t think I quite understood that.” He paused, “Would…you like a cough drop?”

Orion seemed to take stock of what he had on him, patting his sides with his free hand. He turned to the white mech.

“Prowl, would you happen to…um nevermind.” He turned to the twins, “Sunstreaker?Sideswipe? Do either of you have a cough drop?”

The twins searched their pockets for a magically appearing cough drop. Jazz searched for his sanity.

Jazz plucked a voice from the twins and couldn’t care less which it came from.

“Listen!” Oh thank fuck the twins were normal.

Jazz smiled while slowly uncurling Orions fingers from his wrist. Prowl narrowed his gaze at the new voice.

“You got me! I’m a thief! And I panicked! And I am so, so, so-.”

“A mimic.”

Smile frozen in place, Jazz turned his head so slowly there was an audible grounding noise.

Prowl remained impassive.

“Um.” And Orion…let him? Pull his wrist free. “Are you going to continue trying to kill me?”

Jazz snapped back to Orion, his target. The words aren’t what gave him pause, but how he said them. Like he just asked Jazz “Are you sure you want to go with puce green?” As if the mech was more concerned that Jazz was going to make a poor decision than for his own wellbeing.

“No.” Jazz said definitively. Because Primus knows he lost the upper hand now and wasn’t aiming to try again so soon.

“Are you genuinely in need of money? Food and shelter?” Orion continued, optics softening.

Jazz didn’t recognize the play. He bit his lip beneath the cowl.

Jazz decided to capitalize on whatever got him the most sympathy. He nodded seriously. “Yes. Of course. It’s not easy when the functionalists decide you’re a monster.” A bit of a lie and a bit of the truth. His favorite combination.

“Do you like your current employers?” Orion asked and Prowl started to narrow his optics.

“No…I don’t.” Jazz answered without enough dishonesty to feel comfortable.

Orion kneeled so he was on optic level with him. “Would you like to join my order?”

And when Jazz just stared at him he continued. “You’d be free to leave if you ever found it not to your liking. And your skills would be very useful in keeping people safe. And of course we’d ensure safe lodgings, fair pay and-.”

“Sir.” Prowl ground out with the most emotion Jazz had ever seen from the guy. “He tried. To assassinate you.”

“Well, he wasn’t very invested.” He shrugged.

Orion looked at Prowl. The twins looked at each other. Jazz looked at an opportunity.

“Deal.” Jazz took Orions hand, shaking it before his better thinking caught up to him.

Orion’s optics crinkled in delight. “Wonderful! Welcome to the Autobot Order!”

Prowls face betrayed nothing, but Jazz hadn’t spent his entire life studying people to miss the way something ever so subtly cracked under Prowls stoney facade.

Jazz didn’t need their Order to survive. But he had become desperately curious to know what in Pimus’ sweet name was going with those two. And more importantly, after outing him twice in a row, Jazz was going to BREAK Prowl.

“T̴͓̹̚h̸͖̘̀̈͠e̸̡̗̳͊̓͝ ̴͚̘͆n̶͉̰͐͜ą̸̦̉m̸̮͙͋é̴͉̫̥͘s̴̮̔͑̄ ̶̰̚J̷͎̀͝a̸̟͎̽̒̇z̷̰̆͑͜͝z̵̨͎̈́.̴͎́ ̷̡͉̱̒̾̕N̵̳͚̈͘i̴͙̓̎c̶̪̅̆ḛ̸̂͂ ̷̰̻̊͝ͅt̷͖̤̓͋o̴̗͇̭͑̿͛ ̴̮̹̉̃͜m̴̼͈̝̍ë̸̗̫̘́̊͌ē̸̘̹̅t̷̛̞̙̫ ̵͙̎̄y̵̩͂̓̚a̴͉̲̪͌̍.̶̖̻̒”

———————————————————————

The silent sentence was “Did you hear that horrib- Huh?! OH COME ON!”

I just really liked the idea that because Jazz talks in Shockwaves voice around Orion, the first time it happened everyone nearly shit themselves.

-SSTP

"Who apparently had thing for asthmatic dragons."

LMAO

"The twins searched their pockets for a magically appearing cough drop. Jazz searched for his sanity." AHAHAJCZTYLVXFUJKCDYKFSS HELP

Jazz, looking at OP: There is something really wrong with you. Five weirdness points out of five.

Jazz, looking at Prowl: ........I need a new scale

[lostintransist]

Boys' Home - Part 2

Ghost had noticed the rustling in the bushes where the grass met the trees. Price had convinced him and a few of the guys to buy up a worn-down building in the woods as a fallback base. 

"Think about it, a safe house that is off the books of the 141 and lets us relax on leave if we need to be alone. After the nonsense with Sheppard, I would be more comfortable having a hidey hole in our back pockets."

Simon agreed and pledged some money to the purchase of the property and repair of the buildings on the land. Now he stood among the old trees watching the bushes. Trying to decide if it could be an opossum or family or raccoons, he crept closer. Using all of his special forces training to not startle the creatures before he satisfied his curiosity. 

Four small, decidedly human, faces spilt in fear and sounds he could only compare to the scream of an incoming missile stabbed his ears. They took off into the underbrush and quickly were swallowed by the trees. 

"Donne ye know to no scare the locals?" Johnny yelled to him from beside the dumpster that had been delivered early this morning. 

Simon fired back with a rude gesture and headed back into the house to keep pulling old furniture from the upper floors. Johnny's laughter trailed after him. 

At one point, between the heat and the oppressive moisture of the upper floors, Simon pulled his mask off and shoved it into his back pocket. Trundling down from the third floor Simon dropped his load into the dumpster. Stepping back out he noticed a woman with a collection of faces he had scared away earlier in the day. Interesting.

He knew Price, Johnny, and Kyle were all out in front of the house. He had seen them on his trip to dump the trash. They had been looking over the original architectural drawings. The drawings were stretched across the hood of the truck. They were deciding which changes they wanted to make to the building and if the costs would be worth it. He called out to them, causing them all to come around the dumpster.

Watching your eyes, Simon knew when you decided on who to approach first. More and more interesting. He watches you walk over, introducing yourself to Price. Everyone seemed to agree to ignore the children surrounding you like a skirt.

John straightened and offered a hand.

"John. This here is Kyle, Johnny, and Simon."

Everyone nodded their greetings at their name. Simon folded his arms across his chest. You nod back to each of them. Simon looks from the woman to each child, none of them look remotely like her.

“I wanted to come by and introduce myself. My boys were by earlier and reported that someone was in the old house.”

One of the smaller boys tugs on her hand. "Momma, I don't see the skeleton."

Simon tightens down on his muscles to prevent him from flinching under the eyes of his teammates. Johnny thumbed his nose and winked at him.

John looked down and smiled at the boy.

"My friend over there," hooking a thumb back over to Simon, "Was wearing a skull mask a little bit ago. He uses it to scare away the monsters, do you believe in monsters?"

The child narrowed his eyes at John. Good, someone needed to call his captain on his bullshit.

"Momma says monsters aren't real. My teacher says that they aren't real either. So, I think you're lying."

Kyle and Johnny fought back chuckles, even Simon couldn't prevent a smile from cracking one side of his lips. You glance at Simon as you let out a small laugh, taking his measure before turning back to Price.

“Thanks, Sam. Now, John, we wanted to welcome you and your guys to the neighborhood, such as it is. I wanted to let you know that my boys will not be bothering you,” You toss a look at the boys at your waist, the message clear ‘Do not make a liar of me’. “They aren’t allowed in the old house for safety reasons. And if y’all are going to be fixing it up then they doubly need to leave it alone. If you see them poking around your things or your property, please feel free to follow the trail back to our house and let me know.”

“And if you’re not home?” Johnny asked.

You look to Johnny, “I’m a teacher at the local high school, I will be home if the boys are.”

“Thank you for the heads up. We will be sure to watch out for them,” John replied.

“I appreciate it.” Looking to your boys you lifted a brow, “Ready to race?”

They all jumped back, energy crackling off their bodies, even the preteen looked ecstatic at the prospect.

“Yes!” Their voices overlapped as they all agreed.

“How long of a head start today? Five seconds?”

“Three!” Cried the oldest.

“Alright, one,” they took off. “Two,” your voice a bit louder. “Three!”

You took off after the boys, disappearing between the boughs of the trees.

The men all watched you dart away, stride confident.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Kyle said.

“Pretty lass in the middle of nowhere with four boys who look not a lick like her? Unexpected indeed.” Johnny replied.

“Alright guys, back to our jobs. We only have a few days here before we ship back for another mission, might as well make the best of it,” John put a bit of his captain voice in place and everyone set off to their tasks.

Simon made a mental point to crawl out onto the roof access and see over the tops of the trees the closet building to the east of their fixer-upper. It matched the direction you and the boys had run. He would check it out after dark. 

Ugh these guys haunt my DREAMS. I can't decide who is endgame here. Any thoughts?

Part 1 | Part 3

Masterlist | AO3

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason opened his front door, greeted by a woman with brown hair, streaked with white. She waved nervously, a foil-wrapped plate in her other hand.

Jason: Um, hi, you need help with something?

Mia: Hi! You don't know me, I'm Mia. I've lived here for a few years, but I almost didn't. I won't bother you for long, but seven years ago I was really sick, on dialysis and everything. I… thought I was going to die – no kidneys for me. Then, a child's kidneys were a match.

As Mia spoke, Jason's eyes widened for a moment, realizing where this was going, but he remained silent.

Mia: I got better, and I wanted to find your grave to… um… thank you. I'm a bit of a sleuth, and I found out you were alive, which is odd, but hey, this is Gotham.

Mia laughed somberly, a mixture of accepting the city's craziness and the surreal nature of this moment. She held out the plate, a smile on her face.

Mia: Thanks for the kidney. You saved my life, and you deserve a present for doing so.

Jason took the plate without a word, unwrapping the foil to reveal brownies topped with M&Ms. Mia's smile remained unwavering as she stayed at the door.

Mia: Brownies are the best gift. When I got clearance at the hospital, my mom brought in a Tupperware full of them. I'm going back to my hidey-hole, but…

Jason pulled Mia into a tight hug, surprising her for a few seconds.

Jason: You're… welcome. Stupid allergies are making me sniffle, by the way.

Mia (hugging him back): I'm going through the same thing.

[pyre-of-pages]

TES Crushes

I'd really like to get to know people in the fandom space, so here's an open invite to discuss something fun!

Which NPCs in TES (all games included!) do you crush on, and why? They don't have to be marriage candidates (in vanilla), just people you find yourself blushing around. Hell, it could be a Deadric Prince if that's what you're into. Name them and say what about them you find appealing! Then feel free to tag a friend or two!

Don't be afraid to reiterate what someone else has said if you happen to like the same characters.

I'll start off by tagging some really cool-looking people I've seen around: @skyrim-forever @mareenavee @changelingsandothernonsense @ladytanithia

Mine? Well, they'll go below so this intro page isn't all about me and mine. ;)

((So far I've only played Skyrim, so my NPC crushes are all from TES: V. And I haven't met every single NPC there is in the game so my list may expand with time, lol.))

Male Crushes:

Onmund - He's just a sweet, nerdy Nord doofus who tries his best at the College despite feeling like a fish out of water. As a spouse, he's always supportive and loving. As a follower, his AI immediately picks up on threats (usually before I do) and it gives the impression of his character being protective. First spouse I ever chose (also it just makes perfect sense for Elur, my first LDB, to fall for him as far as her character goes).

Enthir - Shady but undeniably charismatic in the fact he gives zero shits what anyone thinks of him. There was always an undertone of odd genuineness to his personality in the College quests that made him fun to be around -- and that came full circle when we realize just how much he genuinely cares for members of the Nightingales. I love characters who act shallow but think and feel deeply.

Female Crushes:

Niranye - I crushed on this merchant the second I saw her because I just thought she was beautiful (her eyes got me for some reason). I also find her voice type the most attractive. I have no idea why, but I usually end up enjoying the uppity tone her voice actress pulls off for everyone she voices. Such a fun and charming mix of pleasant and passive-aggresive, lol. Then Niranye reveals she's a fence and her appeal to me became stronger because now she's more than just a pretty merchant, she's got a cunning little personality. She's a smart businesswoman and she knows it well. Used a cheat code to marry her to my second LDB (who is a Thalmor sympathizer who would only fall for another Altmer, and Taarie is too old for her). Luckily she has voiced romance/marriage dialogue. Since I really like the sound of her voice, my sappy ass melted to bits hearing it when my Altmer LDB proposed.

Jenassa - Hired her randomly because I needed extra pockets and was shocked to discover that she has a personality (was not expecting that of the sell-swords in this game). Took her to a Dwemer ruin and girl laid out paragraphs of lore that I hadn't heard before -- which gives the impression that she's rather book smart for a mercenary. Helping this is that every time I make camp with her, the first thing she does is read a book -- which in my mind, is something she keeps with her at all times because she enjoys reading in her spare time. I enjoy how excited she gets when she sees a hidey-hole she could ambush someone from and how she'll comment on the DB's strong ability to fight. I like that she's a suave, confident, capable fighter that comes to enjoy your company beyond the fact you're paying her. I plan to have my third LDB marry her because she's won my heart as far as the mercenaries I've come across.

Astrid - She's a murder-happy bitch who loves what she does and I'd be happy to let her stab me. . . . Shut up. Also, she's the only member of the OG Dark Brotherhood to have a full-blown character arch and in this house we are SLUTS for good character development. Absolute SLUTS for it.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Mistakes

Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader

Will Miguel let you in?

Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling

it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles

Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.

More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.

Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.

It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?

You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.

You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.

Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.

You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?

“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.

“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.

He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.

“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?

Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”

“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.

“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.

Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.

“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.

Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.

“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.

“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.

Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.

“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.

“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.

“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.

“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.

“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”

Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”

You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.

You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.

Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?

“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”

The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.

“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.

Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.

You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.

He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.

“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.

“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered

“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.

“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.

“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.

“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”

Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”

“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.

“Is this okay?” You whisper.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.

You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.

Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.

You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?

[domesticatedstew]

part 2 to my Mel and Breadhead bonding fic! This time they find old ass pictures from the early days of the Whale Belly Butcher shop :D!! Lovely idea came from @noodletime

it features some of my personal headcanons so if you're confused feel free to ask :>

"AUGH COME ON! Breadhead you said his stash was under here but all I'm seeing is dust from a century ago!!" Mel snapped as she crawled out from under the floor boards.

"It was down there last time though! Maybe Mud moved it after he caught me with his... whatd he call it? Moon shine?" Breadhead helped dust off his sister in an attempt to calm her down, clearly though it didn't work. "HE HAD MOON SHINE??? And you got CAUGHT with it?!? No wonder why he moved it, that shits more rare than a dentist here."

She thought about where else Mud could have possibly hid his goodies, but then something clicked. "Maybe we're looking for the wrong persons booze," She giggled mischievously, knowing all the places Ken would try to hide his stuff from them. If he didn't want his stuff eaten or drunk then maybe he shouldn't have shown Mel all the hiding places when she was a baby.

Breadhead knew it was a horrible idea, but he wasnt about to turn down the offer of ransacking through his dad's stuff. He just hoped everyone else would be gone for an extra couple of hours.

Mel began looking in every single crevice and crack in the resturant, with each empty hidey hole lowering the hopes that they'd find the good booze to drink and have to settle with the liquor they sell to the customers. It wasn't bad but it's just not the same.

They had searched all potential booze hiding spots and found absolutely nothing. "There's one spot we haven't checked yet," Mel said, determined to make this day off interesting. She stomped her way towards the back of the resturant, the rooms getting more narrow and tight as they got closer to the end of the whale. "Stay here Breadhead, I dont wanna get stuck back here when Dad and Mud come back home."

She squeezed her was passed some old broken chairs and tables, hoping that what she was looking for was actually back here. Breadhead waited for his sister to pop back out holding bottles of liquor, and dreaded the sound of the bell on the front door jingling when it opens. They'd be in deep shit if Ken found out they were trying to steal his personal stash.

The back room seemed to go on forever, Mel was desperately trying to shimmy forward but all the hope she had for a fun time had basically flew out the window.

That was until she seen a box, "I FOUND IT!! Breadhead, pull my legs cuz I dont think I'm gonna be able to crawl backwards with this thing." The loaf snapped out of his thoughts and reached into the darkness, trying to find his sisters legs. Part of him worried about not being able to reach her and Mel getting stuck back there for all eternity. That worry quickly went away when he felt a pair of boots attached to a pair of legs and yanked his sister out of the tiny back corner of the resturant.

"Wait wait wait wait don't hold me upside down!!" It was too late, Mel was now hanging upside down by her feet with the box spilling all it's contents across the floor. Instead of bottles shattering on the hard wood floors, papers and photos were strewn out randomly in front of them, a large photo album nearly landed on Breadhead's foot. "Uhhhh Mel? I thought you said you found the booze," He said while still holding his sister by her feet, completely forgetting he should have let go by now.

"I thought it was booze too but I guess it's just a bunch of random junk, also can you put me down now?" Mel started feeling woozy from thr blood rushing to her head and she really hoped Breadhead would just put her down already. Without warning, Breadhead flipped her right side up and placed her back on her feet like normal. It was difficult to not immediately fall over while her blood went back to flowing normally.

Breadhead didn't notice his sister's stumbling as he kneeled down to flip over one of the photos on the floor. It was clearly old and weathered, having turned slightly yellow, and seemed to show the Whale Belly Butcher Shop when the whale was much fresher. There seemed to be writing underneath it but it was so faded he couldn't read it. Mel kneeled down beside him and picked up a different photograph, then immediately busted out laughing.

Mel had to grab onto her brother's shoulder to not fall on the floor laughing. "What is it Mel?" Breadhead asked, dropping the other picture and reaching for the one Mel was holding. "ITS DAD WITH A WIG," She could barely keep herself contained as she handed it over. Mel's laughter was contagious, since Breadhead began laughing his head off too. He wasn't able to stay upright, and went tumbling down on the floor with a loud thud.

The picture showed Ken, still rotten and decayed but clearly in better condition than he is now, standing in front of the brand new resturant. All while wearing a long, brown, glistening wig. Neither of them could see where the wig actually ended since it was cut off by the bottom of the photo, that only made them laugh harder. "This stuff is hilarious!!! We gotta see whatever stupid crap dad wore back then," She leaned forward to grab a new picture.

Flipping it over revealed a picture of Mud and Ken standing over some poor rotling with cement boots. Ken had gotten rid of the wig (or maybe this was before the wig) and Mud was significantly less gloopy. Both of them looked a millennia younger then they did now, it was impressive how much could change over the course of a few thousand years. There was more writing on the bottom but not only was it faded, it looked vastly different to the written language Breadhead and Mel knew. "Wow, they've been doin' this stuff for ages haven't they?" It was obvious Breadhead was admiring how dedicated they were to the whole crime family thing.

"I guess so, you have any clue what this says down here though?" She handed the picture to her brother who squinted at it for a few seconds, but only shook his head no.

She picked up a new picture in hopes it'd be something funny again. "Dad had a girlfriend?!?!" Breadhead loudly exclaimed, practically in Mel's ear. It was a picture of Ken with his arm wrapped around a woman rotling, who was giving him a big smooch on the side of his face. He still didn't have the butcher knife in his head and he was clearly wearing something other than his apron, but it was impossible to tell what since half of the picture looked water damaged. "Damn, it looks like they had a completely different life before us. I'm surprised anyone would wanna date that guy though," Mel joked as she reached for a piece of paper this time.

Unfortunately it was all written in the same language as the one on the pictures. It looked like the glyphs everyone else knew and yet they couldn't make out a single word. "Ugh, how old is this stuff?? Let's just look in the photo album, maybe that one's more recent," She groaned as she placed all the pictures she was holding back on the ground. The album looked to be in a much better condition than the random pictures, it only had a thin layer of dust on it!

Cracking open the book revealed picture after picture of Breadhead as a tiny loaf, still in his first proofing. "Awwww it's your baby pictures! Look, it says 'Miracle Buns'," Mel knew she was never gonna let Breadhead live down that he was called miracle buns when he was little. They turned the page and saw more photos of Breadhead, a few with Mud holding him (Ken was presumably behind the camera). All of them were captioned with some lovey dovey message.

One picture really stood out, baby Breadhead being held by the same women what was kissing Ken in the other picture. The loaf turned to look at Mel, "Do you think she could be...?" Mel knew exactly what he was asking, "I mean she could be but unless she shows up out of the blue one day, we're never gonna know."

Breadhead looked disappointed, but it was quickly replaced with excitement when he turned to the next page. "Look!! It's your baby pictures!" There she was, a tiny infant sitting next to the much larger loaf of bread that is her brother. She snatched the picture book from Breadhead's hands and studied the picture intently. A mild panic set in as she realized what other pictures could be in here, she didn't want Breadhead to figure her out like this. Mel flipped through a few more pages with pictures of her and Breadhead, stopping on one specific picture.

It was of her first time helping Ken butcher someone for the resturant. She was standing on a dining room chair with the large butcher knife Ken always used, about ready to slam it down on some carcass. She looked so focused on doing a good job, of making her dad proud. There was more writing on the bottom of the photo, saying 'Baby's first butchering'.

Mel could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She handed the book back to Breadhead and tried to desperately make it look like she just got dust in her eyes. Her brother knew better though, but he also knew better than to bring it up.

"Awe, it's my first cementing!" Before Mel could look at what Breadhead was trying to show her, they heard the jingle of the bell on the front door.

In a panic they shoved every paper and picture back into the box, making sure the picture book was on the bottom like it originally was. They scrambled to place the box back behind the old chairs and tables while trying to not alert everyone else of what they were doing. Mel made sure to keep that picture of Ken in a wig, in case she needed something to hold over her dad's head. You never know when you need to blackmail your own father.

"KIDS!! Where the hell are you guys? Come help us, we need to freeze these things ASAP." Ken's yelling was getting closer, they had to get the hell out of the back room without making it obvious they were snooping.

"Breadhead! You go help them while I finish putting this stuff away," Mel yell whispered to the loaf, who quickly nodded and sped walked out into the kicthen like nothing was going on. She could hear some chit chat going on, but she was too far away to actually understand what they were saying.

She slunk into the kitchen, making sure to avoid all the extra creaky floor boards. She'd just pretend she was drinking or something, yeah that'd work.

"There you are Mel! Go help Ken with putting away stuff in the case, you know how grouchy he can get when he's the only one putting away stuff," Mud made her nearly jump from her skin, she hated how he could just appear out of no where like that. "Yeah don't worry I'm gonna go help, someone's gotta be out in the front to make sure you don't steal anymore scarab," She teased, knowing he probably would steal from the register if no one was watching.

When Mel finally saw Ken, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her from busting out laughing. That picture of Ken in a wig was never gonna leave her mind.

[pointycorgiears]

Cross Guild Flower Shop AU

I've always wanted to sit down and make a Flower Shop AU of something because I spent over a decade working as a florist and have firsthand knowledge of the processes and logistics of a flower shop.

But then I get the War Flashbacks and I shrivel silently back into my hidey hole. (I got super burnt out from that career) I don't know if I could ever flesh it out, but IF I were to do a Cross Guild Flower Shop AU, this is how it would go:

~🌷~Cross Guild Floral Creations Inc.~🌷~

Buggy: The owner/boss of the shop. Has surrounded himself with very talented people in the industry, but these same people might all be secretly insane. Including himself. He's just trying to keep things afloat and make sure things run smoothly!

Crocodile: The ACTUAL Owner of the shop. He owns the land, the space, the name, everything. He stays out the shop's daily operations for the most part. Will only show up if Buggy is in desperate need of assistance or is in trouble.

Mihawk: A manager who just no longer gives a shit. He's there for a paycheck and will take no crap from anybody, even Crocodile. Will never be fired, because Croc knows if Mihawk goes, everything goes up in flames the second he walks out the door. He is quite talented though and can make some seriously BEAUTIFUL wedding bouquets.

Alvida: She's a floral designer also just working for a paycheck. She has a love/hate relationship with her job, but she is loyal to Buggy, and she doesn't want to leave him hanging. She's also good with customers. The regulars love her! She's not afraid of telling the rude one-time customers to fuck off though.

Galdino: The flower processor that works (lives) in the back of the shop. Never sees the light of day. He receives the flower shipments from the wholesaler and cuts the stems of the new packages when they arrive to be put into water. He makes sure special orders are delivered to the shop and sorted and labeled into their own buckets. He keeps the back coolers well stocked and organized, but constantly complains about being cold all the time. (Everyone knows this is a lie. When you work in the coolers all day, you stop feeling the cold.)

Cabaji: The fastest, most efficient deliver driver in town, maybe the world. No ones asks how he got that funeral piece delivered 10 miles away in under 30 minutes, and no one (especially Buggy and Croc) WANTS to know. As long as there's good insurance on the delivery van and he doesn't get pulled over, nobody cares.

Mohji and Richie: They are Buggy's friends that constantly hang out around the shop and don't really do anything. Croc is annoyed because they can be a distraction from the business. No one else really minds them though since they do help out when it's really busy. Richie is the shop therapy pet that prevents everyone from murdering each other on the spot during Valentine's Day crunch time. (I'm not joking)

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (11)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Explicit (PIV, choking) Words: 2.2k Summary: Hidey-Hole

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Were you supposed to look him in the eye now?

You’d fallen into a deep sleep almost immediately after that earth-shattering orgasm and woken on the ground by yourself, a pack under your head for a pillow while he sat a few feet away and watched the wasteland. He hadn’t commented on the events of the night before, just given you a sly grin and asked you to put on something for breakfast since you’d slept through your watch.

Never mind he didn’t wake you for it.

You finally seem to be heading north, towards the mountains. You have a vague memory of traveling through here before.

“Do you think it’s better to try to find the old road or just head up?”

He’s walking a few feet ahead of you and doesn’t stop when he answers. “Lotta raiders on the roads, we’ll be better off cross-country.”

That made sense. It was a perfectly normal thing to say. Just two people walking companionably together.

It was going to drive you bonkers.

“Hey Cowboy,” you shout, taking a few running steps to catch up with him. He turns as you fall into step, his blank look almost making you falter. But you steel yourself and give him a winning smile. “Do we need to talk? Or not talk, maybe, but acknowledge? What happened?”

“You mean when I had my fingers in your cunt?”

Well, okay, that was one way of putting it.

“Don’t figure there’s much to talk about. You liked it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Now?”

Your spluttering question puts a grin on his face and he makes a show of looking around. You’re in what used to be some sort of rest stop, several different buildings still mostly standing.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking right this minute but a fella could be convinced-”

A roar rends the air between you and you both freeze. You wait for him to verify what you really hope isn’t true.

“Deathclaw.”

Your heart drops. Scanning the horizon you try to pick out what he is seeing. “I thought they were further east than this?”

“You wanna be the one to tell him he needs to go home?”

They’re a rumble, almost like thunder, shaking you to your core. “Is that it?”

He’s got your arm in one hand, dragging you towards a run down building. There’s no door, and the interior is half filled with dirt. “Inside.”

“Inside what?”

The Cowboy gestures towards the ground, at a hole you had barely noticed. With his other hand he unslings his rifle, checking the chamber with a practiced flip. The hole itself is not big, large enough to crawl into on your hands and knees and extending back God only knew how far.

“What if something is in there?”

“You can lose a toe to a rad roach or your head to a deathclaw, sweetheart. I know which I would pick.”

He’s posted at the door, squinting off into the distance and you suddenly realize he intends for you to go in there alone.

“What are you going to do?”

“Hold it off,” he shrugs, “try to lead it away.”

“Can it smell us?”

“What?”

You grab his arm, pulling him into the house with you, “Can it smell us?”

“No, but it can see your ass just fine so-”

“Feet first,” you shove him at the hole. He glares but does so, sliding in without comment until you can’t see him any longer. His hat sits dejectedly by the entrance and you try to decide if you can pick it up when an earth-shattering roar splits the air. 

Well, nothing seems to have bitten him. 

You throw him your pack and then slide in feet first next to him, pushing with your hands against the fallen rocks and dirt. He reaches out a hand to help and between you you manage to shimmy down a few feet - maybe four in total from the entrance to the top of your head.

It’s not so tight you can’t move, can’t put a little space between you, but it’s difficult. You feel the arms he’s laying on move, a hand coming up to cover the shoulder dug into the dirt, and then he’s shifting you both until you’re lying beneath him.

“Both hands free now,” he grunts, pulling his pistol from its holster and laying it just past your head. Sure, he can see now but all you can see is his chest and dark concrete. He’s crouched over you, shifting upwards so his elbows are by your head, his knees on each side of your hips. You both stay silent as the ground shakes.

Shit, what if this hidey-hole collapses?

Another roar and you clutch at him out of instinct, burying your face into his chest. How close is it? Can it reach you? You try to slip further down but your feet hit more rock. 

Well, at least there’s nothing living in here.

Another roar, this time maybe slightly farther away. The Cowboy lets out a breath and shifts down so he can look you in the eye.

“I think it might have seen us, sounds like it’s hunting.”

His voice is barely over a whisper and you answer in the same low tone. “How long will it look?”

“Hour? Maybe two? Depends on if something else grabs his attention.” He glances down and seems to suddenly realize the position you’re in. A slow grin moves over his face and he shifts one foot between yours, kicking your legs apart and settling his hips down until they’re flush to yours.

“Seems like we might have a fair bit of time to pass.”

Your eyes widen in shock even as he pushes his half-hard cock against you. He looks pleased as punch about the fact. “You can’t mean to-”

“I do, and I will - unless you’re about to tell me no. That what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You consider it for only a moment before shaking your head. “No. I mean… yes.”

He tilts his head and licks his lips. “Well that’s about clear as mud.”

“I want you,” you finally settle on, getting a warm feeling when he gives you a genuine smile in return.

“No kissing, right?” he confirms, fingers playing with the strap of your dress. You nod silently, too afraid of what will happen now if you try to speak. It’s enough for him, slipping his hand beneath the fabric and twisting it down until it’s shoved under your breast.

“Well ain’t that a sight.”

His mouth feels like a brand, lips hot with a dry, almost raspy tongue laving against your skin. You should stop this, should tell him this isn’t right. It wasn’t right last night either but you didn’t care then and you can’t make yourself care now. It feels amazing and when he pulls your nipple between his lips there’s no thought left but how good he’s making you feel.

You groan, fingers digging into the rough skin on the back of his neck. He bites down, maybe a little too hard, and you nearly arch the both of you into the ceiling. 

“Thata girl,” he mumbles, fingers working at the other side of your dress until he’s got it pulled down too. You help as best you can, shimmying the straps down and then letting him push it to your waist. He rubs his face against you for a moment, pressing your breasts to his cheeks before turning and sucking your other nipple between his lips.

It’s too much and a harsh cry leaves you before you can stop it. There is an answering bellow from the deathclaw a half second later and suddenly a hand clamps over your mouth. The leather smells of blood and bile and you recoil.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispers, “if you can’t be quiet we’re going to have to stop.” One knee pressed at yours, pushing them further apart so he can hitch your thigh up on his hip. “And that sure would be waste of all this here attraction.”

You jerk at his hand, pulling it from your mouth then yank at the fingers of the glove. He understands immediately, using his teeth to pull first one, then the other off.  Staring directly into your eyes he covers your mouth with one palm, fingers digging into your cheek.

“Quiet as a church mouse,” he warns before ducking back down and nibbling at your breast. His other hand is on your thigh, pushing the skirt of the dress up slow enough you can tell he’s waiting for you to stop him.

You don’t, spreading your legs wider instead and shifting so he can cup his hand over your panties. It’s his turn to groan, albeit quieter than you had, fingers jerking at the cotton and twisting so he can slip against you.

“Ah, darlin’, you’re fucking soaked.” His accent is coming thicker somehow, laying over you like a blanket. His fingers toy between your thighs before pushing further, flicking over your clit.

It’s a good thing he’s got a hand over your mouth because you can’t hold back the noise you make. Suddenly he’s gone and you want to protest. You’ll beg, you’ll promise him anything, just…

He’s jerking at his belt and in your befuddled state it takes a minute to realize what he’s doing. But then you’re there with him, unzipping his pants and pushing them down far enough that his cock can spring free. It’s even hotter than the rest of him, enough to make you wonder if he’ll burn as you take him into your hand. He thrusts into your palm before knocking it away, guiding himself towards your center.

You try to brace yourself, try to relax into what you know is coming. But you can’t help the small muffled cry, or the way your eyes widen when he shoves himself into you. Your body goes rigid and his eyes meet yours, rounded with shock.

“Oh darlin’,” he mutters, his grip on your jaw relaxing slightly. He’s wide, almost impossibly so, even barely inside you can feel the stretch. “You sure about this?”

You nod, gripping his waist and trying to adjust your legs to take him easier. He watches you this time, easing forward in short movements a quarter inch at a time. Your slick eases the way and he finally seats himself, hips flush to yours.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every twitch of him hard and hot inside of you. It’s scorching, almost uncomfortably so, but you can’t get enough. Soon the pain fades and you clutch your knees to his hips, arching your back to take him deeper. He growls when you do, tilting his head to bite against your neck.

It’s not gentle, not slow and rocking like you imagined it might be. No, it’s one hand over your mouth while he fucks you into the floor. You can feel his panting breath against your skin, hear the scrape of his knees on stone, smell the lingering scent of the chem he takes.

He arches over you, stilling suddenly and you feel a surge of disappointment. You knew it was likely this was how it would go - every bit of your education had been centered around your partner’s pleasure. Yet after last night you can’t help but feel like you’ve missed out, that this could have been so much better. He’d taken his time then, had seemed to enjoy getting you off.

“Not a peep,” he says lowly, eyes fixed somewhere over your head. You listen, so caught up in what was happening you had entirely missed the shuffling footsteps not ten feet away. Whatever it was was heavy, the ground rumbling beneath you.

Not thinking twice, you arch your back so you can tilt your head, trying to see what is happening. The movement causes the Cowboy to slip deeper inside of you and he hisses. The hand on your mouth goes to your throat, almost slamming you back to the floor and holding you there while he glares down at you. 

He hadn’t finished after all.

The warning look is all you get before he begins to move again - the new angle punching something delicious inside of you. It’s too slow, not enough to come, but you can feel it building even as the monster in the room roars. He fucks you like that until the deathclaw leaves - slow, almost angry thrusts that make your entire body rock. By the time he speeds up you can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, your hands clawing against his back.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes pleading, “please.”

He glances over your head then leans down, lips next to your ear. “You wanna come for me, darlin’? Squeeze that little pussy around my cock til I fill you up?” He snarls at the last word, shaking his head slightly and adjusting just a fraction.

It’s enough, you come with a strangled cry that he cuts off with a fist around your throat. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, the edges of your vision going black as your body shudders beneath his. You hear him curse, feel him move, and then he splashes across your stomach and thighs.

It takes a moment for his grip to loosen, for him to let you take a gasping gulp of air and blink up at him with wide eyes. He looks just as dumbstruck, his lips parted and you can see his pink tongue run along his lower teeth. He leans down slowly, his eyes dropping to your lips…

You turn away.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[q-gorgeous]

Wing-Bully

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 5267

No one knows au except dash baxter @xscarletsakurax

this is a rework of something that was gonna go write some other writing i did but then i split them into two different fics because the halves didnt vibe with each other kjhgvcf

hidey hey

“Dash, you’re here so we can work on our project for Lancer’s class. We’re not supposed to be down here.” 

“Come on, ghosts aren’t even real. How dangerous can it be down here?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Dangerous enough that we should really be wearing jumpsuits to protect us from ecto-contamination.”

He walked over to the closet that was down there and pulled out his jumpsuit while Dash laughed at him. 

“Matching outfits with your parents? Lame.”

“Don’t complain to me if you get ectoplasm poisoning then.” 

Danny pulled on his jumpsuit and groaned at the sticker on his chest. He pulled it off and tossed it away. 

“What’s this?” Dash pointed at the deep hole in the wall. Danny walked over to him.

“That’s my parent’s ghost portal. It didn’t end up working though.” 

Dash pushed him towards the portal. “Why don’t you go check it out?”

Danny frowned at him and tried to catch his footing. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I can’t-” 

“Haha, go in.”

“Dash, stopping pushing me-”

Danny tripped backwards over the threshold of the portal. He tried to catch himself on something on the wall but all he ended up doing was pressing a button that for some godforsaken reason was on the inside of the portal. It hummed around him and after a few moments everything went green. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Glad to see you’re not dead, nerd.” 

Danny looked up to see Dash. It was too early in the morning to deal with him after yesterday. 

“You already knew I wasn’t dead.” 

“A man can dream.” Danny rolled his eyes at Dash’s comment.

“I remember someone crying a lot of tears yesterday when they thought I was dead.” 

A blush rose on Dash’s cheeks. “My adrenaline was running like crazy! It’s not my fault your screams triggered some kind of primal response in my brain!”

“Crying is a primal response now?”

Dash rolled his eyes back at him and crossed his arms. “Have you figured out your whole ghost thing yet?”

“It’s literally been one day.” Danny stared at him. “How could I have figured anything out yet?”

Dash leaned in close to Danny and he glanced at Dash’s lips for a moment before his gaze darted back to Dash’s. “Maybe your parents have some sort of cure. Or maybe it was a one time thing. I don’t know.” 

“Why do you care so much? It’s literally your fault this is happening.”

Dash raised a hand and looked like he was reaching to place it on Danny’s shoulder. “I just-”

Dash was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. They turned around and were met with Sam and Tucker. She was glaring at Dash with her arms crossed. 

“What are you friends with him now?” Sam asked, angrily gesturing at Dash.

“Woah, so what if he wants to be friends with me?” He asked, stepping towards her.

She barked out a laugh. “Come on! You’ve been bullying him the entire time I’ve known both of you. Why would he want to be friends with you? You must be blackmailing him or something.”

“Sam, he’s not blackmailing me.”

“How can we trust that? You could be lying because he’s blackmailing you.” Tucker frowned at him and reached out a hand, placing it on Danny’s shoulder. “I don't want what happened in elementary school to happen again.”

Danny shrugged it off. “That’s not what’s going on. Why can’t you just trust me on this?”

“Because this isn’t smart.” Sam said. “Why do you guys need to be friends?”

Danny threw his hands into the air. “Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’ve literally only seen us have this one conversation and you’re already mad at me. For all you know we could have been assigned a project together or he’s asking about his tutoring sessions with Jazz. Maybe he had to reschedule and wanted me to tell Jazz.”

Tucker shuffled where he stood but Sam still stared at him with crossed arms. 

“Yeah but are you going to tell us the real reason?”

“Does it matter, Sam?” 

Out of the corner of his eye Dash saw Danny start slowly sinking. He panickingly grabbed Danny’s arm to prevent him from sinking any further into the ground. Danny tried to keep his expression neutral but Dash could tell he was shaken. 

“Oh. Is that what’s happening?” Sam looked between the two of them. 

“Is what happening?” Danny asked, frowning at her. 

“What kind of enemies to lovers bullshit is this?” Dash’s eyes widened at her outburst. What was she talking about? What did she think was happening?

His gaze landed on where his hand was still wrapped around Danny’s upper arm and he pulled it back like he’d been burned. Sam scoffed. 

“Sam-” Tucker started but she interrupted him.

“Do you even realize how toxic that kind of relationship can be? He’s just going to hurt you.”

Danny recoiled at her words. “What are you even talking about?”

“The fact that you two seem to be getting real cozy with each other? Are you dating or something?” 

Dash stepped in front of Danny. “How shallow do you have to assume the only reason I’d be talking to him now is if we’re dating? For your information, we used to be friends as kids.” Dash frowned at her and watched as she backed up. “Just because you’re self conscious about your major crush on Fenton doesn’t mean you have to take it out on us because we’re having a simple conversation.”

A blush appeared on Sam’s cheeks before she angrily stormed away. 

“Sorry.” Tucker said as he looked between them again before he followed after her.

Danny watched them as they walked into the school. He was quiet for a few moments before he turned his gaze back to Dash.

“Sam has a crush on me?”

Dash groaned. “That is what you’re focused on?” He started walking towards the school.

Danny followed next to him. “But I didn’t know that! How did you know that?”

“You’re just about the only person who didn’t know, Fenton.”

Dash pushed through the front doors of the school. Danny had a dazed look on his face. 

“Is that why everyone calls me clueless?” He whispered. 

“Clueless strikes again.”

Danny frowned up at him. “Oh what, you’re so observant, are you?”

Dash pushed open the front door of the school. It swung closed behind them. “More than you. I’m not even friends with Manson and I could see the blackened heart eyes she was giving you.” 

Danny shuffled his backpack on his shoulders as they walked down the hall. “I’ve just never seen her that way. I don’t like her like that.”

Dash’s brows shot up on his forehead. “You don’t?”

Danny shook his head. He veered off to the right and Dash followed him to his locker. “She's just a friend to me.” 

Dash leaned against the lockers while Danny tried to open his but his hand just ended up passing through the dial lock. He groaned.

“Maybe you should tell her that, then. Get it over with so she doesn’t try to kill anyone that even thinks to get close to you.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He finally got his locker open. “She wouldn’t kill anyone for getting close to me.”

“I don’t know.” Dash drawled. “She looked like she was gonna claw my eyes out back there. Like a creepy bat girl.”

Danny slammed his locker shut and turned to look at Dash. “You know, if we’re going to be doing whatever this is, I would appreciate you not making comments about my friends like that.” 

“But she can talk to me like that?”

Danny frowned. “No. I literally told her there was no reason for her to be talking to you like that for having a simple conversation with me.”

“But she’s allowed to not like me?”

“That’s your own fault.” Danny rolled his eyes. “She has every right not to like you.”

Dash huffed. He was about to say something but then Danny started sinking into the floor again. Danny panickingly grabbed Dash’s forearm to prevent himself from sinking any further in. Dash pulled him up and when he set him back down, his feet were solid again. Dash looked around them and miraculously no one else in the hall saw what happened. 

“I’m already over this.” Danny mumbled as he let go of Dash. 

“Do you think you’ll get control over it eventually?” Dash asked him. 

“Hopefully. Otherwise I’ll probably have no choice but to ask my parents for help. I really don’t want to do that though.” 

“Maybe we could do some training? Or practice? You won’t get used to your powers if you just try to ignore them. If you try to do it, then maybe you’ll understand how to not do it.”

Danny nodded. “That makes sense. I guess that’s what we’ll have to do.” 

They came to a split in the hallway. Danny looked up at him.

“Well, I’m going this way.” Danny hooked a thumb over his shoulder as he turned to face Dash.”

Dash nodded. “See you later. Hopefully you don’t drop anything today.”

“Hopefully. We’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty four beakers. 

Danny was finally getting ahold of his powers and all it took was thirty four dropped beakers and a lifetime ban from handling anything fragile while he was at school. 

Aside from the frequent ghost sighting, things were starting to look up.

“Manson!” 

If only Dash could learn to keep his thoughts to himself when it came to his friends. 

“What is this garbage?” 

He stomped up to where the three of them were sitting at their table in the cafeteria. Sam frowned at him. 

“It’s not garbage! It’s recyclable organic matter.”

“It’s garbage.” Danny and Tucker said together. 

Danny gasped out a breath of cold air. He looked around him. He saw a lunch lady ghost behind the food counter. 

Dash followed his gaze to where the ghost was. He saw it just as she walked behind the wall. 

Dash looked back at Sam and held up his plate of mud, pushing himself between Danny and his friends. “When I asked for a mud pie, I thought I was gonna get a mud pie. Not a literal mud pie!” 

“Actually, it’s topsoil.” 

“Whatever. Are you going to actually eat this garbage?”

Danny slipped away while Dash argued with his friends. Maybe Dash arguing with his friends could actually be useful for something for once. 

He found somewhere to hide and transformed. He flew invisibly back to the cafeteria to the room the lunch ladies worked in. She was floating there looking around and the food and the lunch trays. She kind of looked like Tucker’s grandma. 

She caught sight of him. Danny was ready to bolt as she floated up to him, but she wasn’t making any moves to attack him.

“Hello.” She said sweetly. “Can you help me? Today’s lunch should be meatloaf, but there’s not any here. Did someone change the menu?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. They’re trying something new this week.” 

Danny jumped back as her hair suddenly flamed up with her anger.

“The menu has been the same for fifty years!” She shouted at him. 

“Wait-”

She levitated some plates and shot them at him. Danny dodged and caught them, avoiding getting hit. What was up with this lady? Why was the menu so important? 

“The menu is sacred! Lunch is sacred!” She spoke in her sickly sweet voice again. “Would you like some cake?”

Danny looked at her, confused. “If you’re offering-”

“No one gets cake until the menu is changed back!” 

She held her arms up and meat started flying towards her from every direction. It engulfed her and turned her into a meat monster.

“Meat is the most important food group! Without meat, you’ll remain puny and muscle-less!” 

“I’m not arguing with you there.” Danny mumbled. He geared up for a kick but she grabbed his ankle and sent him flying across the room. 

“I will restore the sanctity of the lunch menu! As soon as I find out who changed it!”

She disappeared in a tornado of meat.

The ghost was gone for now. Danny flew through the wall of the school and collapsed onto the ground. He transformed back and tried to push himself up. He was so tired. He’d never used his powers like that before. He groaned. 

“Hey.”

Danny opened his eyes and looked up. Dash was standing there with his hand outstretched to Danny. He looked at it for a second before he reached up and grabbed it, pulling himself up with Dash’s help. 

“Thanks. That ghost wiped me out.”

“No problem. I wanted to make sure that ghost didn’t kill you. I was trying to find you when I saw you fly through the wall and hit the ground out here.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah that wasn’t fun.” He looked down and saw that he was still holding onto Dash’s hand. He pulled it away and coughed. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I should go check on Sam and Tucker though. I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“The ghost attack was pretty contained.” Dash said. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah.” Dash said. “That’s fair. Sorry about dragging out that argument with her.”

Danny shrugged and started walking away. “It distracted them long enough to let me slip away for a bit so. No harm done. At least not to me.”

“Good luck. Hopefully she doesn’t chew your head off.” 

Danny pulled the door Dash had walked out open and stepped back inside the school, shaking the hand that had been holding Dash’s. He made his way through the hallways to find Sam and Tucker. 

Sam slammed open the cafeteria doors as Danny stumbled down the hallway. 

“I still can’t believe you’re talking to that meathead.” She shot at him with no preamble. “He literally antagonizes all of us. And then you ditch us to go meet up with him? I saw you two outside.”

“Sam-” 

“What can you say to defend him?” She turned to look at him. “He beats you up all the time.”

“Not anymore.” Danny said.

“What?” Sam stopped walking.

“He doesn’t beat me up anymore.”

She didn’t say anything to that for a few moments. She shook her head. “I still don’t trust him. I don’t get how you could forgive him so easily.”

“I-” He stopped. Had he forgiven Dash?

Sam shook his head. “Let’s just get to class.”

Danny looked around them. “Where’s Tucker?”

She rolled her eyes. “He said he smelt meat so he went to track it down through the hallways. I don’t know if he’s found it yet.” 

Danny scrunched up his nose. He knew exactly what meat Tucker was smelling. “He’s just gonna go eat whatever random mystery meat he finds?”

“Apparently.”

Danny didn’t respond after her last stilted reply. He followed behind her to their next class. When they walked in she went straight to her seat but he looked up and made eye contact with Dash. Dash gave him a questioning look and Danny just shrugged at him before sitting back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash walked into the Nasty Burger. Football had just ended and he was hungry. 

As he was walking to the counter he saw Danny sitting at a table with his friends. Dash smirked and walked over to them.

“Hey, nerds.” He placed a hand on the table and leaned his weight into it. 

Sam rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” 

“I just came to say hi to my favorite nerds. Is there a problem with that?” 

“If we’re your favorite does that mean you’ll stop making fun of us?” Tucker asked thoughtfully. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, Sam.”

“He’s not going to stop making fun of us, Tucker. The two of them are over there ‘trying to be friends.’” She said with air quotes. “And he still picks on us all the time.” 

“I’ve tried talking to him about it, Sam, but he has a hard time with it.” 

She shot Danny a look. “So why be friends with him? Why give him a chance? What do you see in him?”

“Just because he doesn’t like you-”

Sam scoffed. “Maybe you’re too insecure about your own crush on Danny.” 

Danny whipped his head to look at her. 

“What?” Dash laughed it off. “What are you talking about, Manson?” 

“Yeah, Sam, what are you talking about?” Danny stared at her. 

“Isn’t that what’s been happening this whole time?” She shot back at them. “He’s got some kind of weird feelings for you, he’s trying to get into your pants. Get on your good side. The pulling the girl’s pigtails because you like her bullshit? Don’t you see how weird his sudden change in actions towards you is?” 

“What about your sudden change in actions?” Danny shot at her. “Do you realize how much of an asshole you’ve been lately?”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t friends with-”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “God forbid if I make new friends! Or try to get along with someone instead of fighting! Or even make decisions for myself.” 

“Danny-”

He cut her off and stood up. “No I’m-” He gasped and Dash saw his ghost sense fog out of his mouth. He frowned. “I’m going home. I need some time alone.” He turned and started walking towards the door. 

“Danny!” Dash followed behind Danny out of the Nasty Burger. 

The ghost was flying above the parking lot shooting ecto-blasts every which way. 

The door slammed behind Dash and Danny turned his head to look at him. 

“I need some time to think. Please just go back inside.” 

He called on his transformation rings. Once they passed across his body he jumped up and flew into the air towards the ghost. 

He watched Danny fight the ghost. He could tell he was angry. He was sloppy today. 

Danny missed a dodge and got hit through the air by the ghost. He ended up turned facing the opposite direction so he didn’t see it start to charge at him. 

Dash’s heart raced as he watched the ghost fly up to Danny. His heart stirred with feelings he wanted to push down. He didn’t need to put himself in danger for Danny. He didn’t feel that way. Danny didn’t feel that way about him.

But as the ghost got closer, Dash couldn’t help as the anxiety skyrocketed. His resolve broke and he picked up a big piece of asphalt off the ground and chucked it at the ghost. It turned to look at him. 

Dash froze when the ghost’s eyes landed on him. What was he doing? Was Danny really that important to him now?

The ghost’s mouth filled up with ectoplasm and shot it towards.

He wouldn’t be able to move in-

Danny knocked Dash out of the way of the ecto-blast just in time. His arms wrapped around Dash’s chest and he flew back. The blast hit the ground where he’d been standing just a moment before. 

Dash wrapped his arms around Danny as they slammed into the ground. He groaned as his back slid across the pavement and Danny looked down at him. He started feeling the back of Dash’s head, running his fingers through his hair. 

Dash opened his eyes and looked up at Danny. He looked panicked. Like something was wrong, but he literally just prevented anything from being wrong.

“Dash, are you okay?”

He nodded. “Back hurts. Head’s fine.”

Danny leaned down and lay his head on Dash’s chest. Dash’s hands slid down Danny’s back and rested at his side and he closed his eyes again. He really didn’t like this whole ghost hunting thing. 

The ghost roared behind them and Dash felt Danny’s head shoot back up. 

“Shit! How did I forget about the ghost?”

Dash waved his hand above him. “Go. I’m fine. I’m just gonna get my bearings on the ground here.” 

Dash listened as Danny finished fighting the ghost. It ended quickly and he could hear Danny’s footsteps as he walked to stand over Dash. Dash opened his eyes and his heart jumped at the way the sun shone on Danny’s white hair. 

Danny held his hand out to Dash and he slowly reached up and grabbed it. Danny pulled him to his feet and looked at their hands. He let go a moment later. 

“I think we need a new rule. No interfering with ghost attacks.”

“What?” Dash frowned at him. “That thing was about to gobble you.” 

Danny crossed his arms. “Yeah, but if I didn’t get to you on time you could've gotten very badly hurt. I thought I knocked your head on the ground when I knocked you out of the way.” 

Dash shrugged. “But you didn’t.” 

“We can’t rely on that.” Danny looked away from him. “Just promise you won’t interfere like that again?”

Dash wasn’t sure if that was something he could actually do. But one look at the expression on Danny’s face told Dash he should at least try. 

“Yeah. I promise.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was nodding off in the middle of class. They were given time to work on their homework today but all Danny wanted to do was sleep. Having to fight all these ghosts all the time was making his life way too stressful. He wasn’t to sleep or get his homework done or even get to class on time. It was starting to get to him. 

He yawned. While his eyes were shut he heard someone sit down next to him. He opened his eyes and saw Dash in the next seat over. 

“You look tired.”

“Thanks, captain obvious. I didn’t realize.” 

Dash shrugged. He slouched back in his seat. “Your friends are whispering about you back there.” 

Danny turned and looked over his shoulder at where Sam and Tucker sat at the table in the back of the classroom. When they saw him looking Sam turned back around. Tucker just waved at him awkwardly. 

Danny waved back at him. “I wish they’d just sit over here with me.” 

Dash waved them off. “Who needs ‘em if they’re going to be treating you like that.” 

Sam snorted behind them. Dash turned to look at her. “You got something to say Manson?”

“As if we could treat him any worse than anything you’ve ever done to him.” 

Dash shrugged as he faced back towards the front of the classroom. “Hey, at least my character arc is positive. I’ve made amends.” 

“You’ve hardly even done anything. What kind of character arc have you actually had?”

“I-” Dash started but then he stopped. His brows dropped down and he looked at Danny. 

It hit Danny then that the only thing that really changed with Dash’s behavior was how he treated Danny. He didn’t pick on him anymore and he had cared about him, but he immediately resumed the same habits with both of Danny’s friends. Any time that Dash covered for Danny’s whereabouts during ghost fights, the only thing he could think to do was antagonize Sam and Tucker. He could never think up any actual excuses that wouldn’t cause more problems. 

Danny missed part of the conversation. By the time he tuned back in, Sam was glaring at Dash from across the room. 

“Just because he’d rather spend time with me than you-”

Danny’s ghost sense picked that moment to go off and he couldn’t think of a more convenient time for it to have happened. He stood up sharply and made his way out of the classroom quickly. The door slammed behind him as it closed and he was a couple steps down the hallway when the door opened behind him again.

“Danny, wait-” 

“Why do you do that?” Danny turned and frowned at him. 

“What?” Dash’s brows furrowed.

“Why do you dig at them like that? Make them feel bad about what’s going on?”

“Manson-” Dash started but Danny interrupted him. 

“No. Sam and Tucker are mad at me because of you. They think I’m always ditching them to go hang out with you instead.” 

“That’s not my fault!” Dash shouted back at him. “That’s the ghost’s fault!” 

“But they don’t know that!” Danny stared at him. “All they know is that I’m on good terms with you now and I disappear all the time. They know something is up.” 

Dash shuffled where he stood. He knew he was causing a rift between Danny and his friends. No matter how much he liked to antagonize them, he wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t trying to put distance between them. 

Danny sighed. “She keeps making jabs about us being together like it would be crazy. Like it would be the worst thing in the world.” Danny looked up at Dash. “I would like it if it wasn’t the craziest thing in the world. If it could actually be true. But with the way you treat my friends-” He shook his head. 

Everything around Dash stopped. What? 

“Danny-”

A blue mist came out of Danny’s mouth again. He shook his head.

“I gotta go.”

“Wait-”

Danny ran around the corner away from Dash.

“What did you do to him?” 

Dash looked down the hallway to see Sam glaring at him. Tucker stood next to her. 

“What?” He asked. 

“He just ran away from you? What did you do to him?” She stomped her way over to him.

“Nothing!” Dash held his hands up in a surrendering motion. “We were just talking and he had to go-”

“We’re in the middle of class. What else would he need to be doing right now?”

“Yeah. Why would he be leaving?” Tucker asked. 

“He, uh, went to-”

Sam ran past him and around the corner Danny went down, Tucker close on her heels. Dash followed behind them knowing Danny would already be gone but they didn’t stop there. They ran down the hallway and out the door leading outside. 

“Danny?” She shouted. “Where are you?”

Dash was the only one that noticed Danny floating in the sky. He was fighting an animal type ghost.

“Uh, guys, I think we should probably go back inside.” 

He pointed up at the sky and Sam and Tucker followed his finger. Sam’s eyes widened and she looked around the front of the school again. 

“Danny!” 

Phantom must’ve heard that one because he turned his head to look down at them. The ghost took that moment to hit Phantom, sending him flying through the air. Now he was much closer to them. 

This ghost looked horrifying. It was animalistic but it looked uncannily like a person. Stringy, hair looking fur and teeth curved into a creepy smile. 

“Get to safety! Now!” Phantom shouted down at them. He shot another ectoblast at the ghost. 

“We have to find Danny first!” Sam shouted in a panic. 

“He’s not out here.” Dash turned to go back inside the school. “Let’s just listen to Phantom and get somewhere safe.”

“That hallway doesn’t lead anywhere except outside! Where else could he be?” Sam asked, still turning around looking for Danny. 

“He didn’t-” 

“Danny!” Tucker shouted. 

Dash growled. Why didn’t they just listen to him? 

The ghost let out a shriek and Dash squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. 

“Go inside, now!” 

Dash’s eyes opened at Phantom’s shout. He looked back up into the air. 

Dash stared at the ghost that was hovering in the air in front of them. It was cackling, its head thrown back into the air. It looked back at the ground directly at Sam and promptly shot an ectoblast out of its mouth. Dash saw Sam’s mouth open the slightest bit and everything slowed down. Danny turned, following the path of the blast but when he tried to fly towards her the ghost grabbed onto him, trapping him. 

This was one of Danny’s best friends. She might hate Dash’s guts but Danny cared for her more than she hated him. 

Without another thought, he pushed himself into a run and sprinted his way across the grass. He put himself between her and the ghost and grabbed her just as the blast hit him in the back.

He could hear Sam scream as they fell to the ground. Tucker was shouting from somewhere else but Dash couldn’t make much out past the ringing in his ears. He could hear scuffling in the air above him but it was muffled. The pain in his back radiated out and he could feel it in every jostle as someone shook his body. 

Everything started fading away and Dash hoped he wasn’t dying. Distantly, he wondered if this is how Danny felt when he died in the portal. 

The voices fell away and so did Dash.

~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, the world came back to him. The first thing he noticed was the steady beeping nearby. The second thing was how bright the lights were against his eyelids. 

He groaned and he heard some shuffling to his left. Someone placed a hand on his arm. 

“Dash?”

His heart skipped a beat and he slowly pried his eyes open. He was laying in a bed in the hospital and Danny was standing to his left. 

“Danny?” Dash croaked out. He tried to sit up but Danny pushed him back down against his pillows. 

“You shouldn’t move too much. You got hit pretty bad.” 

“You got the ghost though?” Dash asked. 

“Yeah, he got the ghost.”

Sam and Tucker walked into the room and stood next to Danny. 

“Uh, no I asked if Phantom got the-” Dash fumbled, trying to cover it up.

“It’s okay, Dash.” Danny said. “I told them. I thought it might be better if they knew.”

Dash looked at Danny’s two friends. They didn’t look like they were mad at him anymore. Or like they hated him. It was relieving that they knew. Danny didn’t have to keep avoiding them or keep secrets anymore. 

“If we’d known in the first place we could’ve helped, you know.” Sam said, shooting both of them a look. 

“Yeah. A team always needs a tech guy.” Tucker crossed his arms in mock frustration.

“But we do understand why you guys have been acting weird for the past couple months.” Sam turned to look at Dash. “Thank you for helping him even though you didn’t have to.”

Dash nodded, dumbfounded.

She stared at him a moment longer and pulled her gaze away. “And thank you for knocking me out of the way of that hit. Sorry it landed you here.”

Dash shook his head. “You’re Danny’s friends. You’re important to him. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of all this ghost stuff.” 

“That’s a nice thought, but you should also try not to get yourself hurt.” Sam said. 

“Yeah.” Danny frowned. “You promised.” 

Dash shrugged. “We can call it karma.” 

Tucker stepped forward. “We need a name.”

“A name?” Danny looked up at Tucker.

“Yeah, like a cool ghost hunting team name.” He waved his hands in the air. “What about Team Phantom?”

Sam snorted. “That sounds dumb.”

Tucker planted his hands on his hips. “Well, do you have any better ideas then?”

Danny’s hand slowly made his way down from his arm to his hand as they talked. He entwined his fingers with Dash’s and gave him a squeeze. Dash squeezed his hand back. 

Everything would be okay. Everything was okay. 

[lumilasi]

Chapter 15: Preparations

Chapter excerpt:

Silco didn’t particularly enjoy cleaning, it wasn’t something he’d ever had to do before. Mopping the floor and tables, it was all painfully tedious. The only reason he didn’t call it quits was the genuinely appreciative smile Vander aimed him each time their eyes met. Like he was happy Silco was there, even if he kept complaining about the tedium.

"You never tried to even organize your hidey hole, or wherever you stayed at?”

"Didn’t need to. We don’t need copious amounts of furniture like you land dwellers.”

"Judging from how cozy you appear in bed, I’d say that’s one piece of furniture you’d really like to have.”

"That’s only because being in open air instead of underwater is colder.”

Vander chuckles faintly and paces closer behind him, as Silco attempts to scrub off a particularly stubborn stain from one of the tabletops. He didn’t want to even know what it was. He almost jumps startled as he feels Vander’s warm weight lean against his back, pinning him between himself and the said table and snatches the rag from him, managing to get rid of the stain relatively easily.

"Show off.”

Silco grumbles under his breath as his cheeks dust with pink, gaining another chuckle tickling his ear, before one of Vander’s hands settles on his hip again. The position was making him blush even more now, and Silco feels tempted to throw the rag at Vander’s face to get him off, but all of those thoughts get thrown in the garbage instead, as he feels a warm mouth press against his neck.

"N’aww there’s no need to pout; I appreciate your help even if some muck’s too stubborn for you to get off yourself.”

Silco now turns to face him, and Vander steps back, both hands planting themselves on his hips. He still felt the edge of the table to press against his back, but if he wanted to move away now, he could do so easily with how light the hold Vander had on his waist was.

"Yeah, I suppose having a housemaid to do your work for you for a change is nice.”

"Hey now; you asked to help me. I didn’t make you do this.”

Vander points out with an amused smile, and Silco couldn’t exactly deny that. Still, he squints, pointing out that he’d done most of the mopping and scrubbing so far, with Vander just restocking things and checking the back. Vander shrugs, his arms now slipping around his waist instead, pulling him closer subtly. Silco plants his hands against Vander’s chest, even as he keeps glaring at him peeved.

"Had to be done. ’Sides if I tried to help you, we wouldn’t be anywhere close to done.”

"What the hell does that even mean?”

Vander’s hand slips under his shirt again, dragging his palm down slow across his spine even as he brings him closer to nip his ear playfully, making Silco shiver lightly.

"Because I’d been distracted by how pretty my 'maid’ is, and then distracted him from the job that needed to get done, maybe created more of a mess to clean up.”

"Are you always this insufferably horny?”

Silco asks even as he tilts his head back, allowing Vander to plant a kiss against his neck. His eyes threatened to slide shut as he feels it, biting his lip to try and remain focused.

-----------------

I don't really do chapter updates on my blog much anymore, buuut since I did the poll thing about this, I figured I'll make an exception. (I mostly post these directly into the communities nowadays as my update speed can turn kinda spammy, there was a point in my blog where it was NOTHING but fic updates lolol)

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots part 12

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

With a gasp, I sped up and grabbed Mrin's arm. It was warm, familiar, and utterly paled in comparison compared to that feverish moment. When I took a moment to regather my senses, I realised I knew this corridor. Even better, I remembered hiding in this corner, an eternity ago, when I rescued a two-eyed Mein from monstrous things. “To the left!”

Without responding, Mrin turned with me and we crawled into the little tunnel where my safe room lay. It was hardly more than a crack in the walls, and my body protested as I shoved myself in. For a moment I was afraid we would not both fit, for even I alone was a snug fit. But Mrin pulled herself in behind me, squeezing herself until we hardly had room to breathe.

The two of us hardly dared to watch as the ground's rumbling grew louder, beating like war drums with the feet of a hundred cultists. They were out to get us, I thought, and prayed that they would not find us.

The cultists drew closer, and I realised their movements were disorganised, frantic, terrified. They weren't hunting us. They weren't chasing. They were fleeing.

Fleeing what? I knew the answer as soon as I thought of the question. 

Athena. Or to be specific, Not-Athena. She- It had turned on its summoners. I wiggled closer to the corners of our hidey-hole and clung to Mrin closer. “That thing's going to notice us,” I whispered in her ear.

She nodded. “Not if we stop breathing. That thing hunts through the sound of its prey. Hold on to me. Hold on tight, and hold your breath. I'll get us out of here.” There was something cold in her voice, like she was recalling a thousand-year-old memory and found it distasteful. “Just remember: Don't give in to it.”

She hushed my protests and began murmuring under her breath, a slow, steady chant whose cadence reminded me of the cultist priestess's ritual. It stole my breath away, quieted me like a pillow pressed against a sleeping man's face. For a moment, I felt my soul scrabble for breath, drowning in her words. But it was only a moment, and like all moments, it passed.

I breathed through my nose, curled up as far from the Something that swarmed above my head, something ancient and cruel, something that wanted me and Mrin dead. It glided past me, leaving a trail of slime and straggler maggots. One of the larvae crawled towards me. Would it alert the others if it found me? Could it? 

It reared up, looking me right in the eye. Did maggots have eyes? Could they see? Was the game already over, before I had even realised it began?

We stayed like that for an eternal moment, that tiny scrap of Not-Athena and I. I wondered if each maggot had its own mind, its own opinion. I wondered if it had a tiny scrap of our Athena in it, having become what it ate. I wondered if, when it turned away, it was out of pity or ignorance.

Either way, we were safe. For now.

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[sarahsoba]

Faking Fate Chapter 3

Big shout out to @separatist-apologist for letting me use her Day Court city name. Her fics are canon to me, it didn't feel right to use any other name!

HUGE shoutout to @lovingelucien for being my beta reader/editor. She's my guardian angel fr.

@tele86 @foxyfairydream @the-hidey-hole

If Nesta wasn’t hurling into a toilet, she spent most of her time taking advantage of Day’s extensive libraries. She read her typical romances of course, she occasionally picked up a history book, wanting to learn about this new fae world that she found herself living in. She also read a couple pregnancy/parenting books, to ease her nerves about her situation. 

Helion said her scent started to change about a week ago. That was surreal. Despite Helion’s insistence that he’d be there to help her, she couldn’t help but feel very alone. Her mind wandered to Cassian. What kind of father would he have been? Thoughts of him with their baby did things to her. The guilt of keeping the pregnancy from him sat uneasily in her stomach, right next to the morning sickness.

There she was, reading in the light of her silver flames. Helion taught her how to create her own flames and how to silence fireplaces after learning of her aversion to fire. Helion had promised to teach her how to use her magic in a safe, controlled environment, and the idea of it didn't make her want to retch. She had a feeling that Helion would make for a much kinder teacher than Amren. And with a baby on the way, Nesta didn’t want the danger of her uncontrolled magic at large.

Nesta glanced at the window. Helion said he would be back that afternoon, though he didn’t say exactly when. When Helion left, Nesta felt like there was nothing keeping the Night Court from coming in and  her, despite knowing they weren’t looking for her.  Helion was  keeping something from her. Though what it was exactly, she couldn’t tell.

When Helion opened the door late that evening, Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin. “You’re back.” She said, searching for him for any sign of what he was keeping from her.

“I am. And I brought surprises!” Helion grinned, opening the door further, revealing Gwyn and Emerie, each carrying duffle bags, with tears in their eyes as they looked past Helion to Nesta. 

Nesta gasped, standing to greet her friends as they both dropped their bags and lunged for her, crying as they held her. 

“Cassian told us you died!” Gwyn cried, “Don’t ever do something like that to us again!” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I- I didn’t have many other choices.” Nesta giggled through the tears, happy beyond belief to have her chosen sisters with her.

Emerie sniffed and pulled away to look at her, brows furrowed, “Are you pregnant?” 

“They didn’t tell you? I’m about a month along.” Nesta smiled, unable to contain the joy of being able to celebrate with someone other than the High Lord.

Her sisters squealed and hugged her tighter, “We’re going to be aunties! No, fuck Cassian, I’m their dad now.” Emerie said with a sense of determination she often saw in her winged friend.

“How do you know Cassian is the father?” Nesta asked, eyes narrowed, as the girls finally pulled away to wipe their eyes free of tears.

“Timelines?” Gwyn shrugged, “You didn’t have to tell us the details, you were always practically glowing after a night with him.”

Nesta’s face flushed red, “I was not!”

“You absolutely were.” Emerie smirked.

“How long are you guys here for?” Nesta asked, wanting to change the subject.

“As long as you are.” Gwyn grinned, “Helion offered us positions in his library!” 

Nesta thought back to her first time seeing priestesses in Helion’s library. Helion told her that it was originally the Day court that had the concept of healing women working in the library. 

“You’ll like it a lot. The library is much larger here than in Night.” Nesta said. 

“So we’ve been told. I might even open up a bookstore in Rhodes, if I can raise the money.” Emerie revealed, “Helion offered to sponsor me, but I don’t want to take too much of his kindness.”

“Are you sure you guys are okay with leaving the Night court behind like this?” Nesta asked, the worry creeping up on her

“After what they did to you? Absolutely.” Gwyn said resolutely.

“I didn’t want to stay in the Night Court after Cassian told us you died.” Emery added, “We didn’t have the means to leave until Helion approached us.” 

Nesta looked past her friends to Helion, who was casually leaning against the wall, watching the exchange with a smile on his face. Nesta ran over to him and embraced him tightly, “Thank you for bringing them. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I would do much more for you, Nesta Archeron.” ______________________________________________________________

Lucien never received many visitors. He got the usual door-to-door salesman about once a month, despite being in the city for a few years now, he had yet to make many connections with the townspeople of Velaris. The fact that he was often away, in the human lands, didn’t help with much either.

So when Lucien received a knock on his door one afternoon, he was surprised. He was  downright shocked to see that it was Elain, carrying a large bag. Mostly books, he noted. She seemed out of breath, like had she run there. It took him a moment to still his heart as he opened his mouth to speak before he was interrupted.

“Can I come in?” she asked, panting.

He nodded and shifted to let her in. Elain hurried in, setting the bag on the nearby couch. He shut the door behind her looking over, “What’s going on?” eyeing her warily.

“You and I need to go to the Day Court.” she said quickly. 

“The Day Court? Why?” 

“I had a vision. Nesta is alive. In the vision you were with me. So you need to come too.” She said simply, as if it was obvious.

“Do you know why I need to join you?” Lucien asked, still wary, but growing more hopeful by the moment. She hadn’t said this many words to him since they had met at the cauldron. He was waiting for a catch. A trip to the Day Court with his mate sounded exactly like something he needed. The inner circle off his back and time with his mate unaccompanied.

“Something about missing family.” she waved off, going through the bag to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

“What’s all that?” he asked, gesturing to the bag with his head.

“Nesta’s things. I stole them from Feyre. If Nesta truly is alive she’ll want these back.”

“I thought you had a proper burial for her. How would she still be alive?” he asked, pulling up a chair and sitting in it backwards. 

“I don’t know. I’m hoping she’ll tell me when I see her.” she said and slung the bag over her shoulder. “C’mon, get your things!  We have to leave before they realize I took everything.”

He sighed. This wasn't the craziest thing he’d do for his mate, but it was up there. He trusted her and her visions. He stood, packing a bag of necessities. He was rarely in his apartment so there wasn’t much. “Alright, I’ll winnow us there. Do you know exactly where she is?” he asked. Shaking her head, “I think the palace? We should talk to Helion first.”

______________________________________________________________

It was late evening as Nesta, Gwyn and Emery sat in a circle, going through baby name books, picking out their favorites. They were all in their pajamas as they bounced name ideas between each other. Helion told her that fae don’t typically prepare for the baby before it’s born. Bad luck or something like that. But Nesta couldn’t help but be excited now that her friends were there.

There was a knock on the door as Helion popped his head in, “Nes, can I talk to you?”  

Nesta got up from the circle and left the room, she stood just outside the door with Helion, “What's going on?”

“Elain and Lucien are here.” Helion said, getting straight to business, “I have a feeling Elain had a vision of you. What should I do?” 

Nesta cursed internally. She should have known Elain might have a vision about her. That she might be led to her. The more she thought about it, the more she didn't have an issue with Elain knowing about her, though she didn't want her running back to Feyre and Rhysand about her.

She thought about this carefully, “I’ll be nearby. I’ll listen in on the conversation.” 

He nodded, “Ok, let me shield your scent.” he said with a small hand gesture.

Rolling his shoulders, Helion walked to where Elain and Lucien waited.

“Lucien Vancerra. Elain Archeron. How can I help you both?” He asked kindly, keeping his eyes on Elain.

“I’m here to see Nesta. I know she’s alive.” Elain said firmly. 

“Elain, you saw her body. You buried it.” Helion said sympathetically, “She’s not here. She’s buried in the Night Court.”

“I had a vision of her, alive and pregnant, here in Day.” She asserted, her brows furrowed.

Helion sighed, “Even if she was here, which she is not, I wouldn’t discuss her situation. Not when you could run back to Feyre and Rhysand.”

“I won't.” She promised, “I don’t wish to speak to them. They’re dead to me. They promised Nesta would be happy and healthy in the house and look where that got her. I’m prepared to stay here indefinitely. If she were here, of course.”

Helion eyed her warily, arms crossed over his chest.

“How about a bargain? An oath to secrecy?” Lucien offered. “I, Lucien Vancerra, swear to secrecy on Nesta Archerons whereabouts, on my life no one will hear about her from me without her permission.”

Elain’s mouth lay agape at the sheer confidence he had in her and her visions. She’d given him scant details about the vision, and yet he was staking his life on it. 

Elain gave a similar vow, offering her life if she revealed Nesta’s whereabouts without her permission. She felt a familiar ping of magic whenever a bargain was struck.

Helion watched protectively, once all was said, he sighed and looked to the doorway where Nesta hid. 

Nesta entered, timidly, embarrassed now that her ruse was up. Elain set down her bag and ran to her sister, enveloping her in a tight hug, “Oh my god, Nesta!” she cried.

Nesta sighed and hugged her back, “I’m sorry Elain, I had to.” she said, trying to think of how to explain this all to her. 

“How did you even do it?” She asked, pulling away, Elain’s hands cupping her face.

“The body was fake.” She explained, “But the scene wasn’t. Helion got to me in time. I’m sorry-”

“I get it, Nesta. Seeing your… fake body like that was traumatic but I understand why you did it. I saw how they treated you at dinners. How they spoke of you behind your back. They even used you for your magic. You weren’t safe there.” Elain said.

Nesta felt tears come to her eyes, “Then why didn’t you do anything?”

“They promised me that sending you to the house was the right thing to do. That you’d be safe there. I’ve seen your death a million different ways and I was so desperate to try to prevent it.” She explained, “I finally just wanted to see a future where you’re happy, Nesta. And I think you achieved that.”

She nodded, “ I think I just needed someone. Anyone. Not to judge me. To be there and tell me it was going to be okay. I cant use bathtubs anymore and I can’t be around fires. I just… wanted things to go back to normal.” 

Elain took Nesta’s hands in hers, “No more ignoring you because others tell me to. They will have to pry you from my cold dead hands for me to leave you again.”

That made Nesta smile.

“There’s another reason we came.” Elain began, “Lucien has some missing family here in the Day Court.”

“Missing family? Who?” Nesta said, looking up. She regarded the two males now, standing side by side. Then it clicked. The resemblance was uncanny. 

“Can we do a paternity test?” Nesta asked, looking at Helion.

“Between who?” he asked

“You and Lucien.”

His eyes widened as he looked to Lucien, searching his face for something. It seemed Lucien was doing the same. The room came to a stand still as the two males regarded each other. Helion shifted closer as his hand came up and held Lucien's face, “How could I not see it before?”

“Are you…really my father?” Lucien asked, voice quiet as he held back his emotion.

“How old are you?” Helion asked

“Four hundred and fifty three.” Lucien said, “That might be off by a couple of years but- oof!”

Lucien was quickly interrupted as Helion pulled him into a bear hug, tears streaming down his face, “I have a son…”

Lucien chuckled and hugged the male back, his eye wet with his own tears. He let out a breath, “Yeah, you do.”

Previous Chapter

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[followthebluebell]

Hey, is a Bengal/Savannah Cat cross a bad idea? These seem like a horrible idea to me but admittedly I don't know much about cat breeds

ohhh yeah, it's a bad idea.

so, a lot of this is pretty anecdotal and also based on ONE bad breeder. A few years back, I was very, VERY lucky enough to foster several savannah x bengal crosses. One of the first things that struck me about the cats was how fucked up their reproductive systems are. My vets NEVER had so much trouble spaying cats. Even the youngest cat had a uterus full of cysts, and that's weird as fuck in a 4 month old kitten. Some of it COULD just be piss poor breeding and shit genetics, but I can't help but shake the feeling that maybe crossing three separate species into a single animal could fuck something up reproductively.

Tempe was the worst off. She ended up having a closed pyometra (infected uterus). She was 9 months old or something like that. Her surgery was a success, thankfully, but she required a SECOND one due to an infected stump that managed to hide somewhere. Apparently her uterus and ovaries were just a tangled mess.

Behaviorally, they were all a little off. Again, these were animals that came from a profoundly abusive/neglectful situation so some of it could be blamed on that. I don't want to go into details because it's deeply upsetting. Their former owners were charged and found guilty of animal abuse.

But I want to talk about the cats more.

Here's a cat bed. It's one of those like vaguely croissant shaped beds, with a little hidey hole inside. You can see an extra cat-installed hole. That wasn't an original feature. Tempe had a toy mouse, see, and it made little squeaky sounds. It was UNDER the bed.

She decided the most direct route was to go THROUGH the bed. She made this hole and started pulling out the stuffing in around three minutes.

This wasn't an isolated event. None of them were allowed typical cat toys, because they would be torn apart pretty quickly. They were provided with dog toys instead (even my own Saia is like this).

All of the hybrids tended to just... Go. They never really stopped to think about things. They just went from off to on in an instant. Most had resource guarding issues to work through as well (this isn't an uncommon savannah trait; Saia's missed most of it, unless she's stolen some chicken).

This extended to other animals, tbh. A dog got into the yard once. The cats were all safe in their enclosed catios, but you can imagine that they were all pretty upset. Most of the savannah x bengals were ready to throw down, though. There was just zero hesitation. Tempe once caught a bird through the bars of her catio.

Again, a lot of this could be blamed on really bad genetics, poor socialization background, and a slew of other things. But I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, mixing three species into one is a Bad Idea.

[mouseymuffin]

Little Angel, CG Husk (Agere HCs)

Husk calls Angel ‘cupcake’ unironically

Other nicknames include “itsy bitsy” and “baby bug”

Husk will let Angel touch his fur, wings, and whiskers because he knows the textures soothes the little spider

Husk will serve him strawberry milk in a plastic sippy cup

Angel’s nicknames for Husk are “papa,” “papa cat,” or “fluffy”

Anything pink, has a pig on it, or both? Husk will pick it up for Angel and silently leave it in his room for the spider to find

Husk once got him a pig stuffy. That is Angel’s FAVORITE comfort item. He named it Mochi.

Occasionally, Husk goes into a sort of ‘feral mama cat mode’ when Angel’s little

For example, he’s made nests or hidey holes out of blankets to hide Angel away in. Or, if there’s a threat or his baby spider is spooked, he’s immediately holding Angel close and blanketing him in his wings.

Only for little Angel will Husk purr. When crying, it distracts the spider from whatever he was upset about before, either soothing him or sending him into a giggle fit

Angel loves Monster High! Draculaura is his fav. He and Vaggie binge watch the movies together.

When Angel regresses to a kiddo age, he’ll drag Husk into playing dolls with him, and they’ll really get into it! I’m talking soap opera levels of drama in these stories Angel comes up with. 

A: (in doll character) “I can’t take it anymore! I’m out of here! Your brother kisses better than you anyways!”

H: (audibly gasps, in character) “My brother?! How could you?”

Angel has a tad of rejection sensitivity, so Husk is careful not to ignore or dismiss his little spider.

This happened once — Husk was exhaustedly slumped over the bar from a day of the hotel’s usual shenanigans. Angel hopped over to him, excited to show him a drawing. And Husk just gave it a quick glance and muttered a halfhearted reply. Next thing you know, Angel’s isolated himself in his room the whole day. It took a lot of gentle coaxing and fluffy, feathery cuddles for Angel to tearfully admit he thought Husk didn’t want him around anymore. 

And OUCH did that hurt the winged bartender. He’s immediately pulling his baby spider into his lap, purring and nuzzling him (mama cat mode engaged) as he apologizes. He makes a mental note to be gentler with little Angel when he’s tired or busy.

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 26

"You Smell Nice."

Pairing; Rain/Dew

Cw; weed

Rating; E for Explicit

notes; sniff. wanted to write Raindrop again. Raindrop t4t thigh grind. scent kink. you know how it is. ("hey isn't it-" I was too busy playing ace attorney leave me be) thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the list of prompts!

Dew breathed in deep as he took a hit off the last of the joint, held it in as he leaned over to crush it out, and breathed out a hefty sigh when he leaned back into his bed, the smoke billowing out of his nose and mouth.

Him and Rain had spent the day lazing around; woke up later than usual, gave each other quickies, grabbed breakfast, and headed back to their room for another round. At some point in the afternoon Dew slipped out of the room while Rain snoozed and came back with a small bag from Mountain, “a gift for a favor” he said when Rain questioned him.

Now they were both back to laying down and cuddling, Rain the ever affectionate when intoxicated. Dew pet and picked through their hair while they practically laid on top of him, arms wrapped firm around his waist and their bottom resting on his thigh. It was their favorite way to cuddle, someone at some point dubbed it the “koala position.”

Rain breathed in deep, taking in a big sigh, but paused on their exhale. Dew hummed in consideration, his head tilted slightly. They lifted their head only to snuggle it closer to Dew’s neck, taking in another breath before sighing.

“What’re doing?” Dew mumbled. They breathed in deep again and practically moaned on the exhale. 

“You smell s’ nice.” They mouthed big, sloppy kisses on his skin as they took in another deep inhale, this time air exhaling through their gills. It tickled his skin when they did that. 

“Glad to be of service.” Dew fluttered his eyes closed and gave Rain better access to his neck. Rain crammed their nose further into his hairline, and he chuckled. “Rain,”

“‘S so good, Dew,” they continued to leave sloppy kisses (though, Dew couldn’t classify them as kisses anymore but rather ‘licking,’) as they breathed in his scent. He opened his eyes and looked down, their hips starting a slow rut against him.

“That good?” Dew wiggled his free arm down to hold their hip and helped guide them into a simple grind. They whimpered against his skin, their eyes shut and brows furrowed.

“Dew,” they cut themselves off on a particularly hard grind, their face furrowing further into his neck and hair. “Oh, Sathanas, Dew.”

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” 

Dew could faintly hear and more feel the wet slide of Rain against their boxers, already soaked through and onto his leg. Their whimpers grew in volume until they were fledged out moans, high and reedy and oh, so beautiful. He always wondered if he could get off just by watching Rain, cumming untouched. They had him in a vice grip like that. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck-” they frantically clawed at his waist, needing purchase to keep themselves afloat. Desperation in their voice and motions, he knew they were close. He held them firm in his hand, pushing his fingers into their soft skin as they very quickly came undone in his grip. He kept his other in their hair, still petting through the thick strands.

“I- mmm, ‘m gonna-” Rain couldn’t finish their sentence as they were thrown into their orgasm, powering through it with a choked off scream and shaking legs. Fluid oozed out of them and directly onto his leg, he could feel it slowly dripping down onto the sheets. Ever so slowly, their hips ceased to move once the overstimulation made them shake in pain rather than pleasure. Their breathing was still crazed, chest moving rapidly.

“Get your nose out of my hair and breathe, dammit.” He used the hand in their hair to gently pull them out of their little hidey hole. They whimpered but obliged, taking in a deep breath as if they were starved for it. They probably were.

“Damn Rain,” Dew chuckled, “Didn’t know you had a thing for smells.”

Rain laid their head on his collarbone, facing out and up towards him. Their eyes were dazed, pupils blown, mouth ajar. They blinked up at him once, twice, and nodded.

“Let me eat you out.” Rain breathed. “Please.”

And who was Dew to deny his water ghoul?

[sl-newsie]

Hat Thief (Jack Kelly x Medda's Daughter)

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests (if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are) could you please write a 92sies Jack Kelly x reader? Perhaps the reader is a year younger than him, she’s quite playful and steals his hat, practically forcing him to chase her. Very very fluffy and sweet! Tyy!!!♥️                 Gotcha!

Friendship is a wonderful thing. When two people’s relationship grows so deep, sometimes it feels as if they’re one and the same person. I met Jack Kelly 5 years ago, when mother and I first traveled to New York. My mother, Medda Larkson, became very busy with her theater and didn’t always have time to entertain me. Jack cured that. The minute he first snuck in backstage we’ve been thick as thieves ever since. He’s got his dream of leaving for Santa Fe, and I have my own dream of becoming an actress like my mother. But for now we’ve let our childhoods prosper with a strong friendship connected by fun memories.

“Hey there, Annie!”

Speak of the devil.

“Heya, Jackie.” I turn away from the costume I’m sewing and face the cowboy himself. He’s been growing more lately, especially since he can afford food better since the strike. “How’s the headline today?”

He leans back against the wall and twirls his cowboy hat in his hand. “Was ok, I guess. It was about the new horse at the track. Race luved it! How’s your day been?”

I shrug and gesture to my project. “Been woiking on this for the past two hours. Mom said I can take a break in ten minutes if you wanna do someth’n.”

Jack gets a devilish glint in his eye. After setting his hat down on the vanity, he slinks over to grab my hand and starts pulling me towards the back door.

“Whaddaya say we skip the wait and you can go on a break now? I hear there’s a few boids at the pond. People’re saying they’s flying south for winter, call’n ‘em swans.”

“Jack, I don’t wanna get anodda tell’n off from- Wait. Swans?” My jaw drops. “I’ve only read about them in books!”

“I thought that’d spark your interest!” Jack grins. “So let’s go!”

He drags me behind him while I try to pull the other way. “No, I can’t! I promised I’d have this dress done by supper.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Jack pouts and sticks his lip out. “Don’t leave me alone.”

I scoff and boop his nose with my finger. “You’ll survive for ten minutes.”

I sit back down and return to sewing the dress, while Jack keeps pacing the room.

“I could ask Medda to let you go early,” he suggests.

I stifle a laugh. “Won’t work. Mom’ll have you scrub’n the stage for say’n that. Just because you’re a year older does not mean you are smarter, Mister Kelly!”

The cowboy makes a mock look of surprise and dramatically clutches his heart. “I thought we were on a foist-name basis! I’m scarred!”

Then an idea flickers on in my head. Carefully, I inch closer to the vanity. “Well, we might not be able to go somewhere else to have fun-” I grip Jack’s hat behind me and hold it up to dangle it in the air. “But who says we can’t have fun here?”

Jack’s eyes widen when he sees the hat. “Now now, Annie. Give it back.”

I think for a second. “Nah. I think I’ll keep it!” And with that, I dash out the door and into the backstage corridor.

“Annabelle Larkson, give that back right now!” I hear Jack shout behind me.

“Come and get it, Jackie boy!”

I snake through the curtains and begin climbing the stairs to the catwalk. I’ve explored every inch-a this place since I was a kid, so I know every hidey-hole there is. There’s a tucked away cupboard near the back that’s poifect for right now. Once I’ve crammed myself in, I wait to see if Jack will continue with the chase. He’s not one to disappoint, because he comes panting up the stairs in a few seconds. 

“Alright, Annabelle. You got me! Come on out now.”

Why is this so fun? I struggle to silence my heavy breathing when I see him getting closer through the crack in the door. My heart’s beating faster and faster! But is it because of the thrill of the chase or something else? Jack walks past, and I swear he can hear my racing heart through the thin wooden door separating us. He passes, and seems to have missed me entirely-

“Gotcha!”

The cupboard door swings open and two strong arms grip my dress to pull me out. My reaction is a goilash squeal that rings throughout the empty theater as I struggle to break free.

“Oh no, you ain’t get’n away that easily!” Jack grumbles as he backs me into a wall and starts tickling me.

“No- No! Not fair! No tickling!” I titter.

After a while I stop fighting and Jack ends his tickle revenge, trying to keep a serious face but it keeps slipping into a smile.

“You give in?”

I roll my eyes and turn to face him while he’s still gripping my arms. “You know I ain’t do’n that, Jack.”

His brow furrows and he nods, seeming to think something over. “Alright, let’s make a deal.”

“I’m listening.”

He releases my arms and points to his hat I’m holding. “You give back my hat, but can keep my heart.”

His what? I frown. “Your heart? What’re you-? Oh!”

Jack leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead, causing me to strain against the wall in surprise. My hands press against the brick, unsure what to do. I’m speechless.

"You stole my heart too, Annie." When he pulls away and sees my shocked face, Jack starts panicking. “Did I mess up? Are you mad?”

I slowly come to my senses and shake my head. “No, no! You- you read me just fine, Jack. I’s just surprised it took you this long.”

He mirrors my surprise and playfully swats my shoulder. “You luv me too? You mean all this time I could’ve been kiss’n you? I thought you just thought of us as friends!”

I smirk. “So what’s stopping you now?”

He grins and leans in closer. “Not a thing, Annie.”

Friendship is a wonderful thing. When two people’s relationship grows so deep, sometimes it feels as if they’re one and the same person. And that’s exactly how it feels when Jack closes the gap to mesh our lips togedda. A million emotions race through me, and all in all I could never think of any odda guy I’d want to kiss me. It feels right. 

“Just curious,” Jack mumbles through the kiss. “Your mom ain’t gonna kill me for this, right?”

“Hm. No. Then she’d have to hear me complain the rest-a my life. By the way, this is yours.” I flop the cowboy hat on Jack’s head.

He chuckles. “I dunno. I think it looks bedda on you.” Jack brushes his nose against mine and wraps an arm around my waist. 

“Aw, I’m flattered. But what kinda cowboy would you be without your hat, hm?”

@amoreenaflower

Hope this is the fluff you were looking for! ;)