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loveissupernatural · 2 years

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**read chapter one here** - **read chapter two here** - **read chapter three here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 4

“A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien

It was like a bomb went off.

Blinding blue light, a suffocating vortex of wind, a bone-shattering tremor of ancient power that sought to pull you apart at the atoms.

You tried in vain to shield your eyes with a shaking hand, hoping to catch even the smallest glimpse of something, anything, to ground you. The basement was shaking. It felt like the floor had been ripped from beneath you, as if some primordial force of nature was drawing every ounce of oxygen from your body. The blustering, lashing gusts were making it almost impossible to breathe.

But then, whipping turned to a gentle touch.

You slowly opened your strained eyes to see glimmering white sand barely shifting in the now-tender breeze. A luminous blue sky opened above your head, dotted with fluffy white clouds and brushes of glowing pink. A gem-colored ocean lazily lapped at the soft sand and a waft of salt water tickled at your nose.

You knew this beach.

You had daydreamed many times here in your youth, using it to escape the confines of your increasingly dull reality. You lost count of how many afternoons waned away in this place with a book of unusual subject and a sleepy smile. It was exactly as you remembered, maybe even more colorful.

A seagull called overhead. But the sound was wrong, forebodingly sharp.

The bird flew over your head and carried with it a dark sky, full of swirling grey clouds. Distant thunder rolled and the landscape began to fade away. The beautiful sea vanished and was replaced with dunes of rough, unforgiving sand. The breeze, no longer a featherlight touch, was dry and strong. It told of a storm coming.

The chill of fear trickled from the top of your spine and creeped underneath your skin. It was ice freezing in your veins.

A figure was beginning to emerge from a wave of reflective heat and blinding light. Its silhouette was growing closer, its gait graceful but powerful. As it drew closer, you recognized the head of wild dark hair and the outline of bone and sinew.

You could see him clearly now – imposing, ethereal, and still gloriously naked.

Your eyes raked from his sharp collarbone and defined shoulders to his icy blue eyes. He was terrifying, but still so beautiful. Your mind was having trouble wrapping around him. He reminded you of a fallen angel, dangerous but with a rippling undercurrent of seduction.

The otherworldly man bent slowly, dark eyes never leaving yours, and stretched his long fingers through the coarse sand beneath his feet. His palm closed, grasping onto the grains with a clenched fist. He rose again to his full height, slow but purposeful, and took a step toward you. For the first time since seeing him inside of that glass prison, you were truly afraid.

···

His power was radiating through the air, through every modicum of sand. It was unfettered. It felt limitless and boundless in your bones. You were feeling the brunt of it, not filtered by a binding circle or glass orb, and it felt so incomprehensible that it scared you.

He stopped a few paces in front of you, eyes unblinking and fathomless. Your breathing was shallow and your chest was heaving. You were dizzy.

His head lowered so that his face would be closer to your level. His dark brows were furrowed and framed his penetrating stare in a way that made you gulp.

His full lips parted.

“You have freed me.”

His voice was amber and honey, soft but rumbling like a distant summer storm. The sound poured over you in a warm wave, leaving your skin prickling.

A very uncomfortable combination of fear and awe had congealed in your throat, capturing all of the words that you longed to say. One question finally made its way out of your mouth.

“Who are you?” you asked. Your voice was small and breathy.

He took another step closer, only a few feet away now. His shoulders squared and he drew to his full height, sharp jaw clenching with thinly-veiled pride.

“I am the King of Dreams,” he breathed, his tongue caressing every syllable like a sonnet, “the Ruler of Nightmares. I am Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless...”

You swallowed hard, so hard that it was painful.

You hadn’t just released any dream creature, any old manipulator of nighttime fantasies—no, you had released a god.

“That’s…” you gulped again, your gaze struggling under the weight of his, “that’s a lot of names.”

His expression was impassive, but he saw something in yours that made him take another step closer. He could not be any closer now without touching you. Was this it? you thought. Was this the moment he killed you?

“You need not be afraid,” he said, voice gentle but flowing with quiet authority. Your heart was thundering painfully in your ears at his proximity, at the pull of his voice. It ghosted across something deep within you.

“Okay,” you whispered. The word was trembling, struggling to break through that lump in your throat.

The king’s head tipped to the side, eyes studying you in a way that made you feel like the exposed one. He was standing so close that most would consider it socially unacceptable even if he was clothed. The Lord of Dreams was so regal, and still so strikingly naked. Your face felt so hot that your cheeks were tingling with numbness.

“You showed me kindness when I had become quite convinced that humanity was incapable,” he breathed. His eyes had been wandering your every feature, like it was some kind of puzzle that he was trying to solve. He was still confused by your empathy.

You couldn’t help it, your gaze darted to his lips before settling on his incredible eyes again. He was so close that you could feel his breath ghosting across your face.

“I… I just did the right thing,” you replied. Your voice was finally starting to return, as pitiful as it sounded. “It wasn’t a hard choice to make.”

The air was filled with a thick silence. He regarded you, head still cocked, bold gaze searching your eyes for anything deceitful. After a beat, he let out a breath through his nose and straightened again to his full height.

“I am grateful,” he stated. His tone was measured, like he was being careful not to come across as emotional, but there was an undercurrent there of feeling that you were sure you weren’t imagining.

The air was charged, the ashy clouds swirling faster. Your fingers itched to touch his alabaster skin, now so very close and unobstructed by glass. You wanted to somehow show him, through your touch, that you expected nothing in return. That you simply cared.

Morpheus moved back, as if he could sense your intentions, and dropped his stare from yours for the first time. Something in your chest deflated. It felt like you had been unplugged.

He turned away from you, heading back toward the direction from which he came. You were stunned by the intensity of just how much you wanted him to stay and you couldn’t stop the plea that burst from your throat.

“Wait!”

He stopped, back rigid and ramrod straight. He did not turn toward you.

“Where – where are you going?”

It came across much more desperate than you would have liked. How contrite your emotion must sound to a god.

“I must attend to unfinished business.”

His tone was full of vengeful promise, the clouds above your head darkening from grey to black. A very ancient human instinct squeezed your stomach, warning you of the danger in the air. You sincerely hoped that one day you would never be on the receiving end of his wrath.

He was walking away again, strut full of menacing purpose. So many questions and pleas burned in your chest: Don’t leave me, Take me with you, Will I ever see you again? But you shoved them down.

Instead, you called out, “Will you be alright?”

He stopped again. This time, he fully turned toward you, something swirling in his icy orbs that took your breath away. He didn’t answer your question.

He breathed your name, his tongue twirling around it and lips caressing it in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your insides. The foreboding landscape dissolved away around you and was replaced with the scorching blue light and thrashing gales.

Through the howling wind, you heard it. So soft, so seductive.

“Sleep.”

The King of Dreams raised his closed fist and opened his long fingers with gentle care, revealing the mound of sand that he had taken from the desert inside of your head. His lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as he blew it out of his palm and toward you. The sand expanded and became a dark cloud against the blinding blue light, dancing and snaking around your body with ease.

It touched your skin like a lover, poured into your mouth like warm syrup, and you were fading from the world. Happily.

Your knees buckled, your body ready to drop to the hard concrete floor. But it didn’t.

Two strong arms caught you.

The hard outline of his body was the last thing you remembered before being lost to that tempting pull of darkness.

___________________________________

Your sleep was the deepest you experienced in years.

It was almost dreamless.

It was so very warm, so very pleasant, until you were plagued by terrifying visions. You saw it like flashes from a camera bulb, quick but intense. A black cat, a journey down a dark hallway, and a menacing black silhouette with the glowing eyes of a stalking predator.

“Alex! Alex, please! Wake up, darling!”

You were jolted from your sleep, gasping, disoriented. You were in your bed.

Paul’s screams were echoing down the hall in the early morning light, desperate and panicked. You jumped out of bed as fast as your unsteady feet would allow, a choking feeling of despair in your chest. Something inside of you told you what you would find.

You bolted into the master bedroom, hair flying and a sob on the edge of your lips. Alex Burgess was lying in the bed with eyes darting around inside of his closed eyelids. His head was moving back and forth, as if he was fighting something, disturbed whimpers escaping from his lips. The emerging light of the sun through the bedroom windows shined on his sweaty skin.

“He – he won’t wake,” Paul sobbed to you, turning to meet your concerned gaze with eyes full of tears. You gulped back the cries that wanted to rip from your throat, immense guilt enveloping you like a suffocating blanket.

“Paul, I – I’m so—”

You stopped yourself. What were you going to say? Paul, I’m so sorry for releasing the vengeful God of Dreams from your basement that I wasn’t even supposed to know about in the first place? Or what about, Paul, I’m so sorry, but I’m the reason your husband is gone forever?

You exhaled shakily. “I’ll call the doctor.”

The doctor confirmed what you knew in your heart. Alex Burgess had fallen into a coma that he would never return from. An inconsolable Paul looked sick when the basement guards told him that Edwin had quit the night before and never showed up for his shift. When Hattie and Randy saw his tear-streaked face, they knew. They blamed themselves, but Paul, in his infinite grace, did not.

He descended to the basement with you in tow, telling you hoarsely that he wanted to show you something.

Paul opened one of the glass doors for you. You stepped into the dark room slowly, guilty tears stinging your eyes. The binding circle was blurred, the glass was shattered, and the familiar hum that you’d grown to love was gone. The room was empty, dead.

“I should’ve known,” Paul’s sorrowful voice echoed through the shadowy room. “I knew it would happen one day… just not today.”

Your gaze dropped to the glass-covered floor, blinking back the tears that were begging to fall. This was all your fault. You knew, deep down, that this would happen if you released the Dream Lord.

“Those – those guards, they feel awful,” you said hesitantly, unable to meet his eyes. You had been formally introduced to them that morning. You felt awful is what you really wanted to say.

“It’s not Randy or Hattie’s fault,” Paul sighed, taking a step toward the broken orb of glass. He kicked a shard on the floor absentmindedly. “It’s ours. Mine and Alex’s.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, Roderick Burgess trapped something in this cellar that was never meant to be held,” he replied almost instantly, forlorn. “And we… we were too afraid to fix his mistake.”

You knew in your heart that this was true, that the ultimate fault really did lie with the Burgesses. But you had played your part, and for a kind heart like yours, it was a heavy burden.

“I wish… I wish there was something I could do to help you,” you offered, heart breaking for Paul. The love that you observed between him and his husband for the weeks you were there was truly beautiful to witness.

Paul gave you a watery smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe help me with – with some preparations?” His voice broke on the last word.

“I’d be honored.”

___________________________________

After Alex Burgess’s funeral and a heartfelt goodbye to Paul, you left the Burgess house for good. Not quite ready to go home, you rented a small cottage in a nearby town from a kind elderly lady. Flying back to the States already meant that you would be returning to your old life, the one with something seriously lacking, and you didn’t want to do that. Not yet.

Something inside of you wanted to stay here, in England, at least for now. You wanted to be close to where you met the otherworldly man with eyes that told of universes. You were afraid that the further away you got from the Burgess home, the further away the memories would drift from you.

You never wanted to forget him, the King of Dreams.

You closed your eyes and remembered Alex’s casket and Paul’s tear-brimmed eyes. Don’t forget, you told yourself, he’s the King of Nightmares too.

Despite now knowing who he was—what he was—you couldn’t just let him go. He was powerful, dangerous, something other, but to the despondent ache in your chest none of that mattered. That hum, that vibration that resonated in your very cells… you missed it. Now that you’d experienced it, you weren’t sure that you could ever live without that feeling again.

But you were only human, and he… he was something so ancient that words couldn’t do justice. You were but a blip on his radar, a tiny ant in an ever-expanding universe that he would surely forget if he hadn’t already.

It had only been a week since you released him, but it felt like so much longer. Every time that you fell asleep, you appeared in a world that you recognized as your beloved dream universe. You hadn’t been here in ages, especially since you’d arrived at the Burgess house. Your sleep was fitful, fleeting, and dreamless while Lord Morpheus was locked underneath your feet. Now, it was like a veil had lifted and you were able to return home.

But your haven of escape had changed. Something was different.

You could see past the borders of your own dream now. The hills of tall, green grass that danced in the fragrant breeze ended abruptly, revealing a wasteland of dark rock and churning clouds. Previously, you never even noticed that your dream had a border. But now that you could see the desolation stretching on in the distance, you wondered how you had ever missed it in the first place. It was like someone had removed your rose-colored glasses.

Every night you ventured closer and closer to that border, working up the courage to breach it. You were a consistent lucid dreamer and you were always aware that you weren’t in the real world the moment you closed your eyes. You would fabricate flowers and trees, rivers and brooks, beaches, even small creatures that would roam your little stretch of dreamland. But every time you tried to create something to root beyond the border, it would dissipate into a pile of dark sand and blow away.

You chewed on your lip and twirled the cup of Sleepytime Tea in your hands. It had grown cold. You must have been daydreaming.

The one thing that you longed for more than anything else was to see Dream again. It was a pull in your gut that made you want to sleep every hour of the day. Every night since his release, you called to him in your dream world, but he never came. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was beyond that imposing line, that if you finally had the courage to go poking and prodding into the dark that you would find him.

As you settled into your small bed, you decided that you would venture into the unknown. You would tread the soil untouched by you and test its limits. The emptiness of what lay beyond that border reminded you of a nightmare, but you would search there anyway. Your unbridled curiosity always won over in the end.

You turned off your bedside lamp and closed your eyes. You made a conscious effort to slow your breathing when you noticed swirling shapes begin to dance behind your eyelids. This was always how your dreaming started.

Those shapes flowed, fluttered, and changed colors. They stretched and molded and glimmered until they began to settle at your feet, turning into lush green grass and pirouetting butterflies. The familiar scent of white poppies tickled your nose and you opened your eyes. The two suns that kissed in the sky moved, bringing swaths of pink and orange light with them. They began to set on the horizon of the ocean you’d created the night before, casting vibrant hues that danced in the water.

You turned around.

Behind you, only a few steps away, was the border. Lightning struck in those curling dark clouds, a warning.

Even though you felt like this was something you shouldn’t be doing, that you weren’t allowed to do, you took a deep breath and held it as you scooted a toe past your remaining grass and into the black sand. Thunder rolled over your head, like a growl in the chest of a beast. With bated breath, you moved your other foot away from the soft carpet of green and into the ominous grains.

You stood there for a moment, waiting for lightning to strike you dead or for a gaping mouth of sand to swallow you whole. But nothing happened.

Hesitantly, you stretched your hand out in front of you. It was shaking and damp with sweat. You steeled yourself, then with everything you could muster, you visualized a winding road taking shape before you. You wanted bricks of white, smooth marble to cut through the bare landscape and lead you to Morpheus.

Slowly, so slowly at first that you thought it was just a gust of wind tickling the ground, the sand began to move. It was stubborn, like it didn’t want to move for you, but you just focused every thought on Dream, on how badly you wanted this, of that intoxicating quiver that encased your bones when you were near him. As if giving up, it parted like water, revealing a path of snaking black marble cut with veins of gold.

Well, you were going for white marble. But that’s okay.

You let out a gleeful giggle of disbelief and placed a bare foot onto the road. The golden veins glistened to greet you, as if saying hello.

“Wow,” you sighed appreciatively. You brought you other foot to rest on the marble. It was cold.

You cautiously moved one foot in front of the other, eyes in front of you taking in the ever-parting black sand and stormy clouds. With every step you took, the sand parted a bit more, as if where it was leading you was a secret that would only be revealed once you reached your destination. You felt powerful, but also a bit like you were sticking your hand in a proverbial cookie jar.

You weren’t sure how long you walked through the endless dunes of black, but after what felt like an eternity, an ocean appeared and stretched in front of you. The water was almost as dark as the sand, but it glittered with bits of dancing purple and starlight. The streams of glistening color moved through the calm waves as if alive, as if waiting to shape themselves into something once commanded.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

The dark sea sleepily licked the black sand that blew toward it, dancing out of your way. The path was beginning to curve into the water.

With slight trepidation, you edged your big toe into the waves. It swirled around you, tickling your skin, and began to part as well. You placed both feet into the dark ocean with more confidence now. The waves began to divide like the Red Sea. The colorful slivers of starlight were an aurora, swaying through the walls of water. Suddenly, the path dipped deeper into a descending crevice. You couldn’t see the bottom. The edge of sea floor ended abruptly.

Well, you’d made it this far. It would be a shame to turn back now.

With bated breath, you gathered every ounce of courage that you possessed and took the leap. Literally.

You were falling, but it was gentle. The lightless air swirled through your hair like water, but then you realized, it was water. An invisible chord pulled you by your ankle. You were sinking further, further. Your world was shifting and spinning and you didn’t know which way was up.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

You were emerging from the depths, floating into the air, gasping for cool and forgiving oxygen. The sea dripped off you quickly, as if it couldn’t wait to leave your skin, and you were instantly dry. Gently, almost kindly, the dancing air lowered you onto a dark wooden dock.

The sight that met you was unbelievable.

A gargantuan wall of horn and ivory towered in the distance. It was laced with the most beautiful and intricate carvings of faces, creatures, and landscapes that you had ever seen. Even from this far away, you could tell how utterly massive it was. It stood, erect, in the middle of the black sand beach. Unwavering and unmovable.

The moment your foot kissed the black sand, it twisted and separated for you, revealing the same black marble. The golden veins snaking through the stone glimmered again in greeting, like it was happy you’d made the journey.

A childlike smile tugged at your lips. This was more beautiful than even your wildest imaginings.

You followed the welcoming path all the way to the gates, absolutely enthralled by their sheer size the closer you drew. You noticed a massive carving in the middle of the doors, of something resembling a spine connected to the head of an insect. The image reminded you a bit of an antique gas mask.

With tentative but curious fingers, your touch brushed a white gate door, featherlight. You pulled your hand away to find that golden sand was stuck to your fingertips. It glistened in the faint light of the cloudy night sky.

The sound was so deep and trembling that it made you jump back in surprise. It reverberated through the immense ivory walls, making them shake loose more golden sand. You were afraid that you’d broken something, that a giant monster was finally coming to swallow you for wandering outside of your dream, but the sound stopped.

The echo of an enormous bolt unlatching vibrated through the gate and through your body. The marble beneath your feet hummed. The gates were separating for you.

An ever-widening sliver of a view appeared as the doors continued to open. Expecting to see mind-blowing beauty that you couldn’t formulate in your craziest fantasies, you held your breath and resisted an excited giggle.

The sight that met you stole the breath from your lungs.

It was hollow, dark, desolate; an endless stretch of colorless grounds covered in murky water. And at the middle of it all, a once-glorious castle that was crumbling before your very eyes. Gaping holes sat where towers once stood. Spires were bent and decayed. Arches that spoke of past splendor were disintegrating as you watched. Thunder rolled somewhere in the foggy distance.

You had never seen this place before and you didn’t know how long it had been like this. However, something in your gut told you that this was the ultimate tragedy, that this place was once a shimmering gem in the center of this land. A piece of your heart fell into your stomach like a piece of stone falling from the castle wall.

Your quick footsteps echoed around you in the eerie silence. You were certain that if anyone still resided in that castle, without a doubt, they would hear you coming. You were the only speck of life on this bleak stretch of swamp and sand.

You were overcome by a sense of urgency, a need to enter the castle. Would you finally find him, the King of Dreams that overtook your every waking thought? Your chest ached with a longing that felt quite pitiful, really. You were a bit embarrassed by its intensity.

You walked through the decaying threshold. The castle was falling apart just as much on the inside as it was on the outside. You had to keep your eyes on your bare feet to avoid sharp stone and shards of broken glass.

“Excuse me.”

You jolted in surprise, panicked gaze rising to see a figure approaching you from a cracking entryway. She stood at your height, clad in a neat dark suit with coattails. Her brown skin was smooth and almost glistened. She had no hair to hide her pointed ears or her deductive gaze. Her brown eyes were full of intrigue as they assessed you over the top of her circular spectacles.

···

“And who, may I ask, are you?” she questioned. Her tone was business-like but not unfriendly.

You felt like you’d been caught doing something naughty.

“I’m, uh, I’m Y/N,” you replied meekly. The woman’s gaze continued to study you.

“Well, Y/N, I’m afraid you must be lost,” she said, taking a step closer to you, “for you are not supposed to be here.”

You gulped, feeling admonished. So, that gut feeling of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing was right on, then. The woman’s eyes narrowed curiously and she tipped her head to the side, still reading you.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

You looked down, shyly pushing a dull piece of rock around with your foot. You shrugged.

“I just wanted to explore,” you admitted quietly. “Something told me to venture out of my dream. A path led me here.”

“A path?” she repeated, perfectly shaped brows rising in surprise.

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes rising from the floor to meet hers. You felt a spark of pride in your chest. “I made one. If you look outside of the gate, you may still be able to see it.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered in disbelief, taking another step closer to you. She was reviewing you closely now, like if she looked hard enough she would see a clue on your skin.

“You – you created something here in The Dreaming?”

Your brows knitted, confused by her shock.

“Sure. I change things around in my dreams all the time,” you replied, not understanding what the big deal was. You chewed on your lip thoughtfully. “Today was the first time I was able to make something outside of that border, though.”

“Border?” Her voice dripped in incredulity. “You were able to see the border between your dream and another?”

“I haven’t always been able to see it,” you said quickly, like a child trying to placate their parent. “It only started a week ago.”

The woman seemed equal amounts shocked and concerned. Embarrassment poked underneath your skin at her astute stare. She regarded you with a look that made you wonder if you were growing a second head.

“You should not be able to leave your dreams,” she said finally, shaking her head. You thought you detected underlying fear with her concern. “And you should not be able to create whatsoever, let alone a path through the waters to lead you here.”

“Where is here?” you asked, swallowing down your prickling sense of shame.

The woman adjusted her spectacles, sighing. “You are in the heart of The Dreaming.”

“This is the heart?” you asked, looking up at the disintegrating ceiling and destroyed stained glass windows. “It looks… broken.”

“It is,” she said solemnly.

Your reason for being here prodded at the base of your neck, imploring you to ask her what you wanted to know more than anything else.

“Can – can I ask you a question... I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Lucienne,” she replied. Her eyes were suspicious but not unkind.

“Lucienne,” you repeated, giving her a kind smile. “The only reason I left my dream was because I was looking for someone. Hoping to see someone, actually.”

You had piqued her curiosity. She watched you over the edge of her spectacles again.

“And who, pray tell, would that be?”

“Morpheus.”

She blanched, but recovered quickly. “You know Lord Morpheus?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, a bashful smile overtaking your face at the very thought of him, of those eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of your soul. “I released him.”

Lucienne gasped. The sound echoed through your head like a ringing church bell, and suddenly she was gone. The castle melted away and you were surrounded by black nothingness. It was cold. A force pulled at the back of your navel and you were falling, falling, falling…

You shot up in your bed, breathless and gasping for air. Your wobbling hand reached up to your forehead and wiped away a thick layer of sweat.

You collapsed back onto your wet pillow, clamping your eyes shut and punching your soaked sheets.

You were so close.

**read chapter 5 here

2K notes · View notes

thebigbiwolf · 9 months

Text

Starvin', Darlin' - Chapter 1

Pairing: Not quite friends to lovers Astarion x OC/F!Tav

Chapter Summary: Astarion knows his power is waning, and seducing their leader Evelyn has gone poorly at best. If he is to keep himself in the tiefling's good graces, he's left with no other options. He must drink from a thinking creature.

Everything goes according to plan... until it doesn't.

Fic Tags: Minor spoilers for Act 1, The Bite Scene, Emotional slow burn, Angst, Teasing, Frottage (god I'm sorry), Pining, This is my first ever fic so idk how to tag things appropriately but you get the gist.

Fic Warnings: Eventual Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubcon (I cannot stress this enough), Bloodlust/Loss of control, Mentions of blood, lmk if you need anything else tagged.

Word Count: 6.1k

Read on Ao3: Here

A/N: I started this as a way to get this fruity fuck out of my head but I think I just made the situation worse. If you know me, no you don't. If you've followed me for a long time, sorry in advance. I may make this a mini-series depending on time and reception, but we'll see! OC is a rogue who seduces men to gain their favor but we'll get to that in later chapters.

Astarion's trance did not come easily that night; his hunger manifesting as a throbbing headache that refused to subside. It had been hours of tossing and turning in his tent, willing his body to settle, forcing himself to ruminate on the past few weeks.

Before he joined this disgustingly merry little group of adventurers, hunting rabbits and the occasional boar had been enough to sustain him. In fact, dining on larger animals had been a significant upgrade from the meager flies and rats he’d become so accustomed to under his master’s rule, but that was before all of this incessant hard labor.

He could feel his strength waning over the last several days. His senses were dulling, his reflexes numbed. Just this morning, he had failed to gain the upper hand with a particularly nasty kobold. He paid for it dearly when the damned thing all but pummeled him into the ground.

Luckily, Lae’zel had been there, hammer at the ready to divorce its jaw from its head. Beautifully done, by the way, but his blunder did not go unnoticed. All this sneaking around for barely a nibble during his watch was beginning to take its toll.

Astarion knew he was on thin ice, considering his relationship with their fearless, incomparable leader began with him pulling a knife on her and grappling her to the ground - in front of the damn wizard, no less. Some friction was to be expected.

But things hadn’t progressed much between the two of them since then. The pair rarely saw eye to eye on anything, and she seemed to have an innate passion for berating him over his unwillingness to stop for every single injured bird or helpless child as they traveled - as if playing the part of a hero was a favorable distraction from the literal time bomb in both their party and their heads.

“The world is full of potential allies, Astarion,” she had told him, sprinkled with a hint of her usual irritation. “I’m simply expanding our network.” As if a group of starving refugees and mud-slinging tree huggers were going to find them a decent healer any sooner. At this point, he’d heavily considered taking his chances with the goblins. At least they knew how to have fun.

What made matters even more frustrating was that Evelyn was seemingly unaffected by his charms.

Just how exactly was he supposed to secure his place under her protection when the woman barely spared him a second glance? Surely he wasn’t losing his touch. He was a master of seduction. Thousands of others had thrown themselves at his feet for far less effort. He’s had centuries of practice. The mere notion would be ridiculous.

In fact, he couldn’t remember a single moment in the last two hundred years where his advances had been so callously brushed off. Every attempt to make her laugh with his (admittedly morbid) quips was met with her chastising him for being insensitive and making threats to send him back to camp. She dismissed every flirtation, even if her lovely little blush betrayed her. She seemed determined to make him play her little game. He just hasn’t quite figured out what the rules are, yet.

Astarion couldn’t afford to take any more chances. If sleeping his way into her good graces wasn't an option, he was left with little choice. He wanted to make himself indispensable, so he was going to have to take drastic measures to ensure that his strength and physical prowess would never come into question. At least, not again.

He would have to drink from a thinking creature.

The idea of it was as invigorating as it was terrifying. He had spent the last two centuries enduring unimaginable cruelty, starved in ways mortals couldn’t begin to imagine--for years--without any reprieve.

No, starving doesn’t even scratch the surface. No words could ever describe the tortuous, gnawing, ravenous hunger that consumed his every waking moment under the heavy weight of Cazador’s boot.

Though, Cazador wasn’t here now, was he?

Curious.

Astarion had spent some time ruminating on who to approach before settling on Evelyn, though his options were limited at best. The githyanki was entirely out of the question; gods forbid he get caught, she would make quick work of him without allowing him so much as a single word of explanation. Shadowheart was…tempting, but that mark on her hand frequently caused her pain, and who knows if that magic would have any affect on him or worse, her taste? And Gale, well, he would rather subsist on a diet of garlic sprinkled with holy water before he put his lips anywhere near that man.

So, Evelyn it was. The tiefling wasn't terrible to look at. She was a younger woman full of vitality, so surely she wouldn’t miss a bit of her blood. He would just have to mind the horns.

He would be in and out. A quick nibble, then he'd be right as rain. One bite, he tells himself, barely enough to leave a mark. Then, he’ll pass it off and say that they had been attacked by bats during his watch and, not wanting to wake everyone, he quietly dispatched them and saved the day. Unfortunately, not before one of those wretched little beasts managed to puncture their illustrious hero. It was the perfect plan. Infallible. They'll eat it right up.

He continues passing through camp undetected, catlike in his silence, but when he reaches the canvas entrance of her tent ready to pounce, he freezes at the sight of her.

She looked…different while she slept. Softer, gentler, almost; surrounded by a nest of fur blankets, snoozing away instead of attacking his ego. Her hair was puddled beneath her head and horns like dark, red wine; rich and unrestrained by her usual loose bun.

Another realization hits him: this is the first time Astarion has ever seen her in her sleep clothes, a simple basic black wrapping across her breasts. Practical. Of course.

Her skin is pale enough to rival his own, even with the warmth of the firelight. She’s lying on her side, her uncovered shoulder lightly dusted in freckles, much like her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, and in the silence of the night air, he can hear her light, even breaths.

Cute, he thinks to himself. He could almost forgive her for being so maddeningly aloof with a face like that. Almost.

Astarion leans over to brush her hair away from her neck; the strands softer than he had anticipated. The thrum of her pulse underneath is magnetic. It pulls at his very being, beckoning him closer.

Settling on his knees beside her, his arms form a cage around her body.

He takes in the image of her form one last time and allows himself a moment to savor it. She is toned and lithe, much like himself, but smaller. Perfect. Delectable.

He bends closer, feeling her gentle puffs of breath on his shoulder; the warmth of her body. His ears ring with anticipation; manicured nails clench the sheets by her head.

She’s going to be so-

Something brushes his leg, hidden beneath the furs.

Her tail. He forgot about her bloody tail.

Evelyn stirs, and fully awakens right as his teeth are at her throat, eyes meeting his.

Shit.

“Shit.”

With incredible speed, she reflexively reaches for the dagger closest to her pillow, lunging at him. He just barely seizes her arm in time to save himself from being skewered.

“What in the hells are you-” he clasps his palm over her mouth to silence her.

The girl’s eyes are wild with panic, their golden hues burning a hole in his skull. He notices them flit down to where his body hovers over hers before she begins to struggle against him. “No, no, shh,” he whispers. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear.”

Her expression shifts from panicked to confused. She ceases her squirming. Good. Well, not good, but better. He can work with this.

“When I take my hand away, you have to promise not to scream and wake the whole camp,” he continues, hushed, “unless you’d like for them to find us tangled up in your bedroll. You wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression now, would you, darling?”

Her eyes widen. Her face flushes deep red, warming his palm against her skin.

There, he thinks, that should-

Her body turns, and suddenly he feels the hard edge of Evelyn’s knee make contact with the corner of his ribs. A direct hit. Pain shoots up his chest as he rolls off of her and onto his side, clutching himself and coughing, heaving air back into his lungs.

She hurriedly covers herself with her sheets, glaring at him as he struggles to collect his breath. He can see her fuming through the tears forming in the corner of his vision. If looks could kill, he’s sure she would have him skinned alive. Maybe use what's left of him to scare away the crows.

She’s still holding the knife out toward him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing in here?”

A fair question, one he was not prepared to answer. Perfect. He’s just going to have to wing this. Possibly with two broken ribs. He can’t believe he expected this to go any smoother.

“I-I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He raises a hand and falls back on his thighs with a grunt, grimacing in pain. His other clutches his side, a bit of sweat forming at his brow. “I just…”

Okay, this is it. He’s got this.

“I just needed, well,”

Aaaaand,

“Blood.”

There. Excellent form, Astarion. Good show.

“I - You needed what?”

She blinks at him, whether in disbelief or shock, he cannot say.

It takes a moment before his words start to sink in. She takes that time to scan over his body, purposefully.

He couldn’t quite tell if she was looking for something or if she was deciding whether or not to believe him, but then again, what other explanation could he give?

He works over his options in his head, considering just how difficult it would be to pass this all off as a terrible joke, but just as he’s about to open his mouth to start on damage control, he hears Evelyn heave a deep sigh. She lowers her weapon, then tosses it to the side, massaging her eyes in frustration.

Oh. Well, alright.

After some time, he watches her expression soften into understanding as a few notable things dawn on her. He’s never really eaten any meals with them, has he? Then there was the drained boar, which he so carelessly left out by the road. The damned beast hadn’t even taken the edge off that night, and he was so desperate to quell the nagging ache in his stomach that it lay there forgotten until she found it the next morning. He admitted to her himself that it had been drained by a vampire, after all…

A bit of silence follows.

Astarion doesn’t say a word, doesn’t dare move a muscle. He just allows her the time to process whatever she’s feeling. What’s important is that he’s still alive, she hasn't run him out of camp, and she hasn’t screamed for help.

He may be able to salvage this, yet.

She scratches the back of her head, carding her fingers through her hair to ease her irritation before finally meeting his gaze.

“Astarion.” The sound of his name leaving her lips pulls him from his thoughts. He can see the disappointment on her soft features just as plainly as he can feel it humming through their psionic link.

He didn’t think himself capable of guilt, but there was an emotion akin to it brewing within his chest. Ugh. He breaks eye contact, searching for anything to pull his attention away from his discomfort. The miscellaneous bags of clothing and trinkets she had scattered about her tent were just oh so fascinating. And was that a new hairbrush? Hm.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s taken aback by her question. He expected a more offensive reaction. A few insults, maybe ones pertaining to his sharp teeth or bloodlust, but an olive branch?

After all the lies, the invasion of privacy, and the failed attempt at assault?

She really is just full of surprises.

“Well, we aren’t exactly close, you and I. Though, you must admit, I’ve made several attempts to…” He waves a hand between them for emphasis, “mend the gap, so to speak.”

“Well, have you ever considered maybe not being such an asshole?”

Ouch.

But in fairness, no.

“I…” He thinks carefully about what to say next. The buzzing behind his eye socket acts as a threat, reminding him of the very fragile barrier between their minds. Should she choose to dig her claws in and pry the information out of him, she may find more than he's comfortable sharing, so Astarion makes a decision that surprises even himself.

He chooses to be genuine.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs.” He gestures towards the dagger at her side. “But believe me, I’m not some monster. I’ve never killed another person.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, not for food,” he quickly corrects. “I’ve been subsisting on animals. Boars—like the one you found the other day—deer, kobolds, whatever I can get my hands on.”

“And what exactly was the plan here? You were just going to kill me and expect the others not to notice?”

He recoils at the accusation but fights to keep his expression neutral. “I had no intention of killing you. I would never do such a thing.” He leans in closer to her and lowers his voice, as if letting her in on a secret. “We need each other.”

Evelyn shifts to lean her weight on her arm as she listens, dark hair falling to the side of her shoulder. With the new level of exposure, he can hear her pulse settling into a more comfortable rhythm.

He swallows. Hard. His hunger is rearing its ugly head again, just at the sound of her.

Oh well, might as well lay all the cards out on the table while we’re at it.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and continues, “As it stands right now, I’m too slow. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” There is a question hidden in his words, a favor to be asked.

She seems pensive as she considers him, mulling over everything he’s said in her mind. She lifts a thumb to her mouth and starts nibbling on her nail, no longer looking at him. Nervous too, no doubt. How could she not be with what he’s asking of her, as if he had any right to ask in the first place?

“I understand you detest me, but-”

Evelyn appears to snap to some conclusion, sitting up straighter and placing her arms to her sides before she responds.

“No, I should detest you, Astarion, but I don’t. You just don’t impress me.”

Wow.

It feels as though he’s been slapped. He barks out a laugh that’s a bit too loud for the intimate setting, trying to mitigate the damage to his ego. “Excuse me?”

She has the nerve to shrug at him. “I’ve seen every trick you’ve used to fill your little black book, probably a thousand items over. I’ve used them all myself. So, frankly, I'm uninspired.”

For the first time in his undead life, he’s totally speechless. His face contorts in indignation, disbelief. This devil.

There is something dangerous in her expression as she leans further forward, neck tilted, exposing herself to him. Her eyes are hooded, with long lashes casting shadows over her cheeks. Her shoulders relax as she lifts her chin to stare down her nose at him, sneering.

He works his jaw, clenching the muscles unconsciously.

“Astarion, men are idiots. I’ve spent my entire adult life toying with them and robbing them blind. I’ve heard and seen it all. You really believed a few empty praises and mediocre jokes would have me jumping into bed with you?

Wha- Mediocre?

He opens his mouth with every intention of retaliating, but Evelyn’s palm unexpectedly rests itself on his calf, and the action stuns him into silence. She begins leisurely dragging her nails up towards his thigh.

His body responds involuntarily; eagerly, frustratingly, the delicate little motion leaving his skin prickling with excitement.

She regards his chest, admiring the hard planes of muscle. Then, her attention slowly inches down the toned curve of his abs until, finally, they stop at where his cock hardens disobediently beneath his pants.

“Your pretty face doesn’t detract from the fact that you’re still just a man.”

It finally clicks.

She’s baiting him, attempting to get a rise out of him.

Hm. Impressive.

Normally, at this point in her little game, he assumes most men would take her flirtations at face value. They would likely mistake this performance as an enthusiastic plea to bed her, but Astarion is not like most men. He sees her little game for what it is and recognizes it with ease because he has spent lifetimes playing it himself.

She leans back, satisfied with her little show, and smirks at him.

“So, you admit I have a pretty face?” He teases, his own smile twisting, becoming more mischievous.

She rolls her eyes, but this time she laughs. It’s a soft sound, genuine.

A pinkish hue crawls up her face and paints the tips of her pointed ears, but he can’t discern if that's supposed to be part of the act or, more likely, an unfortunate side-effect of the living experience. He’s finding it hard not to admire her dedication, regardless.

Well, that’s quite enough of that. Back to business, then.

“It’s settled,” Astarion clasps his hands together, “I’ll just need to impress you with my more eclectic talents if I am to earn your favor. We can start by gracefully slaughtering a few goblins, depending on how the rest of tonight goes. Which is entirely up to you, of course.”

The tiefling squints at him. “Oh no, if you want something from me, darling, you’re going to have to ask politely. With manners. You have those, don’t you? Familiar with them, at least?”

Under normal circumstances, he would find this amusing; nothing like a little role reversal to spice up the evening. But this feels different, heavier, as if her feigning indifference will alleviate the weight of what he's asking of her.

Fine. He supposes relinquishing a little bit of his pride is a fair price to pay.

He takes a deep breath. "Please."

"Please, what?" She lifts an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Come on, Astarion. Use your words. I know you’re quite fond of them."

He scoffs at her shamelessness, and for a moment, he honestly considers whether this is worth it, but he can't back out now. He'll make it through this, surely. He's been through worse.

Through gritted teeth, he barely spits out, "Please, may I drink from you?"

Gods. He's going to be sick.

"Good boy. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He’s going to fucking kill her.

There is an uncomfortable silence that follows. So many unspoken questions and a rising suspense that makes Evelyn adjust herself uncomfortably where she sits. Astarion is also musing to himself, still wondering how it's all come to this. Why did he choose her, again? Something about her not killing him right away? Death may have been preferable to this, actually, but he is pulled back to reality when she finally speaks up.

“So," she's picking lint off one of her pillows, avoiding his gaze as she asks, "how exactly should we do this?”

Well, it occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know. He understands the mechanics behind it, of course, but how exactly were they supposed to go about this?

Should he tell her that he’s never actually fed from a person before? Would it make her more or less comfortable to know that he’s just as clueless about this as she is?

No. He decides against it. Astarion has always done best when he’s playing the role of the confident seductor. This should be no different. He’ll just treat this as if he’s bedding a virgin: guide her, take things slow, and she’ll no doubt be begging him for more soon enough. It’ll be easy. All she has to do is behave.

“Lie back and get comfortable.”

He moves himself closer to her, settling at her side as she does what she’s told. The flap of the tent remains open, letting in the faintest amount of warmth and illuminating Evelyn’s features. With such close proximity, he can see the gold flames within her irises flickering and dancing, a genetic trait attributed to some luckier members of her race, and a feature of her’s that Astarion would have never otherwise noticed.

He can hear her pulse quickening as he closes the space between them, lifting himself a bit to settle above her, once again caging her between his arms. One of his knees parts her legs, and he can tell in the quietness of her tent that she’s struggling to hide her uneven breaths. Her stare is intense, but he can’t read the meaning behind it.

He decides to give her another out, just in case. Better safe than sorry.

“We don't have to do this, you know,” his voice is composed, as if his body wasn't currently screaming with anticipation. “I appreciate the consideration, regardless.”

“I’m fine.” Her response is clipped, dismissive. Her face remains stoic though her fingers fidget with the blankets at her sides. She had moved the furs to give him better access to her body. The darkness inside him preens at the concept.

Best get on with it, then.

He leans down and, unable to help himself, takes in the scent of her: woodsmoke and the faintest hint of vanilla, which he had watched her pick up from a merchant in the grove just the other day. “For Gale’s cooking,” she amended, when he gave her a questioning look.

He gives her one more moment to stop him.

She doesn’t.

A bit of pressure on the skin before it snaps and gives way, his fangs finally sinking into her. He can feel Evelyn’s body tense at the sudden intrusion. She hisses through gritted teeth, her arms involuntarily raising at her sides, reaching for him, but she stops herself before she touches him. He wants to tell her it's fine, expected, even, the need to ground herself, but all of his higher thoughts are plunged into complete chaos when he finally registers her taste.

Every cell in his body awakens.

The iron flavor of her floods his throat and sets his nerves ablaze. Its heat fills, expands, and splits every crack in his self control into deep, cavernous fissures.

A groan escapes Astarions throat before he has the chance to quell it. Of course it would be like this - drinking from a thinking creature. Drinking from her. He understands now why Cazador forbade this. Before, he had assumed it was a matter of keeping his spawn weak and compliant, but this was entirely different. This was far more than a method of control. The bastard had been withholding ecstasy greater than he’d ever known.

A feeling swells in him, crashing like waves through his veins. Warmth. It invades him and fills every fiber of his being. He wasn’t naive enough to believe his first time wouldn't have some sort of great, emotional impact, but this?

This was everything. How was he ever supposed to come back from this?

"Agh - Astarion," he barely registers her pathetic little whine through the haze. She finally allows herself to grab onto him, the loose sleeve of his nightshirt tightening in her fist. For purchase, he tells himself with what little is left of his consciousness, practical. That is until he lowers himself fully onto her in an attempt to relieve the strain on his biceps.

With no space left between their bodies, he doesn’t anticipate the blazing heat of her core on his thigh, even through the several layers of clothing. She gasps at the sudden pressure, fingers twitching, nails digging little crescent shapes into his skin. What surprises him most, though, is when the taste in his mouth melts into a flavor so much sweeter.

Something primal within him recognizes it instantly; it twists in his gut and sits there heavily, as if the emotion were his own: arousal.

Oh.

She is burning for him.

Good.

After all of that teasing, the woman he’s spent weeks enduring endless lectures from actually does desire him, or at the very least desires his body. Which is just as favorable, in his opinion. It’s just nice to know all his hard work hasn’t gone to waste.

If she lets him live, he's going to spend every waking moment tormenting her over this. His lips vibrate against her skin as he chuckles to himself, causing some of her blood to run down his chin in hot rivulets, blooming new stains onto her sheets.

He knows he’s had enough. He means to let go, he truly does, lest he end up draining their groups' only hope of survival. Surely that wouldn't go over well with their companions. Pitchforks, and all that.

But her whimpering, her heat, coupled with the ferocity of his hunger, all provoke a feeling that has been building beneath the surface which he’s unable to name; it's desperate and possessive, a predator guarding its kill from hungry scavengers. The monster in him casts a dark shadow over his mind as he feeds. His body no longer feels as though it is his own, betraying him; a slave to the demands of his appetite.

He needs her, needs all of her, and he cannot will himself to stop, too lost in sensation and the sound of her mewling to bow to his higher thinking.

He mindlessly rocks his weight into her and grunts—a slow, unintentional grind against her mound. The motion comes easy to him, like breathing - instinctual. The blunt edge of his clothed cock drags deliciously through her parted thighs. Evelyn’s breath hitches at the feeling, her squirming beneath him giving him the sickest form of satisfaction, but the animal within him demands her compliance.

His hand gathers her loose hair and pulls, growling, warning her to keep still. She whines at the force, back arching. The other grabs her arm, pinning it down, and tightens, thumb gently stroking against her wrist.

"Astarion,"

She’s no doubt making a mess in her smallclothes as she quivers beneath him, all flushed cheeks and furrowed brows. She may deny it later, but her taste tells him everything he needs to know.

Her body is burning against his cool skin, and her gasps are only spurring him on. He laps at the wound, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat, indulging himself in her. It's too much.

He feels her pulse weakening, her rhythm slowing.

It isn't enough.

He's about to latch on to her again, teeth at the ready and blinded by his eagerness, when he suddenly feels a piercing sensation behind his eye - the tadpole, he assumes, writhing in panic. Screeching at him to open himself to it. The discomfort is just enough to pull him back into his body. Then Evelyn's voice invades his mind.

‘Astarion, enough!’

He disentangles his limbs from hers, practically jumping off of the poor woman. He’s gasping for breath as he comes to his senses, the mix of her blood and his saliva staining his lips pink. It dribbles down his chin. He wipes his face with the back of his knuckles and licks them clean.

But then, the cold realization of what he’s done is thrust upon him like a bucket of iced water, shocking him back to the present. He’s going to need to come up with one hell of an apology to get himself out of this one. Or maybe he should just run? Baldur’s Gate is really only a few weeks travel at most.

“Shit,” he whispers, more to himself than to her. "Are you alright, dear?"

Evelyn's eyes meet his. Her pupils are blown, almost entirely overtaking the gold of her irises when she glances away from him to assess the damage.

"Gods damn it," she quietly groans and applies pressure to the wound, thankfully finding that it isn't too deep or particularly painful. She tends to it, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from her brow. She searches for a rag as she avoids his concerned stare

A deep purple bruise spreads across her pale skin. Small red droplets trickle down the length of her nape, dampening her black breast band before soaking into it and disappearing entirely. He collects himself, willing his mind to cease its incessant urge to lick the damned liquid from her neck. She is flushed and sweating, unbalanced, panting from exertion as much as her own embarrassment. Her dark hair is a tangled mess from his attention. She looks ravaged.

It… suits her.

Astarion clears his throat, trying his best not to get caught admiring his handiwork.

She was right about one thing. He was, at least in some respects, just a man...

“Here,” he insists, grabbing one of the smaller furs and holding it up to her. She takes it from him without acknowledgement.

“I -” He begins, but he’s at a loss for words. What does one say in this situation? ‘My sincerest apologies. I don’t know what came over me! I must have gotten swept up in the moment!’ as if that pitiful excuse would overshadow the fact that he manhandled and almost devoured her.

He wants to laugh, but the sound dies in his throat.

He begins to worry that she really may not forgive him. He fears she'll wake the whole camp, or maybe finally cast him out like the monster he is. He wouldn't blame her. She took a great leap of faith in trusting him with this, and he rutted against her like some horny bugbear. Or worse, a teenager, he sneers.

Evelyn pulls the rabbit skin away from her neck, examining it. The brown hairs are matted and crimson, but the bleeding has stopped. She runs her fingers over the puncture marks, feeling the skin dip slightly where his fangs pierced her. She sighs with resignation, surely thinking about how the others will approach her with a plethora of questions tomorrow morning, face reddening at the idea.

“You could have warned me, you know.” She rolls her eyes at him. “I didn’t realize I was agreeing to…all of that.”

His heart sinks.

Of course she thinks it was on purpose. I mean, look at him. He’s all but thrown himself at her since the moment they met. He’s spent this entire time playing the part of the rake. It's only natural she assumes the worst.

“Evelyn, darling,” speaking her name aloud brings her focus back onto him.

The gravity of it is suffocating, condensing the already small space they shared. The tension pulls at something undefinable within him that he thought was long dead—a sincerity that betrays the character he’s been crafting for as long as he can remember.

It sways him.

More truths to forgive more transgressions, then. A fair transaction.

“I’ve had this condition for over two centuries, but, truth be told,” he clears his throat again, because ugh this is awful. And why does she have to stare at him like that, with her earnest, wet eyes? “You were my first. I’ve only ever fed on beasts.”

The implication is there: how could he have known?

His confession takes her by surprise. “You don’t…” she pauses, taking everything that transpired tonight into consideration. He must be giving her a look akin to pleading, because she takes mercy on him and disregards whatever question she was about to ask.

“Please tell me you didn’t do that to the boar.”

Seriously, a joke?

He barks out a laugh before he can stifle it. Whether it's from the sheer ridiculousness of the question or the disbelief towards her acceptance of it all, he truly doesn’t know.

“No, my dear. Just you, and you were delectable.”

Her expression is difficult to read. She’s not looking at him; refuses to, when she replies, “So then, did it work?”

Astarion moves to stand, peering down at her form. He exhales in relief, feeling as though he is a century younger. His muscles are lax; all the stress has been drained from his body. A novel experience. “Yes, I would say so. I feel stronger. My mind is clear. I feel…happy.”

He adds the last word in an effort to appease her, but it does ring true. His main source of joy since he contracted this affliction has been causing others pain, ripping out throats and such. This feels distinctly different, less exhilarating, but pleasant all the same.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you fight.”

He acknowledges her, then stretches his back out, extending his arms to the sky with his hands clasping behind his head. The motion pulls the rest of his nightshirt out of his trousers and tugs it upward, exposing the hard edges of his hips. He can’t confirm it, but he swears he sees her eyes flit quickly towards them before making an expeditious retreat.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.” He lifts the flap of her tent to peek outside. No sign of anyone stirring, and the night is still young. Knowing the wildlife in this area, he may still have a chance to sate himself. With his newfound strength, he may even be able to wrangle up a bear. What a feast that would make.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He bows his head to her in thanks.

He’s about to step outside, one foot exits the canvas before the rest of him, when it hits him that he feels…odd, uncomfortable leaving her like this. He can’t place his finger on why. He’s ridden atop many women and left without saying a word.

But, he supposes this is dissimilar.

Evelyn listened to him tonight, heard him out when anyone else would have carved him into pieces without second thought. She let him drink from her, forgave him for getting…carried away.

The most shocking part of it all is that regardless of her dismissiveness, he now undeniably knows that she’s attracted to him. Yet, she didn’t capitalize on the opportunity when it arose to take advantage of his altered state; of his needs. With that, she’s shown him more kindness in the last hour than he’s experienced in his entire undead life.

He likely owes her for this, of course, but there are worse fates he could endure.

The elf looks over his shoulder at her and catches her watching him intently, as if she wants to continue this conversation but can’t quite figure out what she wants to say. The intensity of her gaze almost forces him to turn back towards her, drawn to her by an unfamiliar ache; a thrill in his spine, the compulsion pulling at his chest like some sort of spell.

“This is a gift, you know.” The words escape him, hanging in the air between them with raw authenticity. He means to make himself sound more frivolous, but before he can edit them in his head, more truth spills from his lips, “I won’t forget it.”

His throat tightens. He considers her for a moment, wondering what he might find if he does turn to meet her eyes.

But, Astarion resists.

She must be exhausted. He shouldn’t take up any more of her time.

He leaves before she can respond. There wasn’t anything left for them to discuss, and he’s desperate to break free from the uneasy weight of her presence.

The second he steps fully outside, he feels as though he can breathe again, not that he needs to, being undead and all.

What a strange feeling, that was.

One he decides he’d rather forget. Best to not burden himself too much with it.

The taste of her lingers on his teeth. He finds himself savoring it for a moment too long before stalking towards the forest, confident. Ready to hunt.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 oc #im muting every bit of social media i have after posting this lmfao #evelyn

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wet-denim · 2 years

Text

You Knew!

Pairing: Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x Kazansky! Fem Reader

Word count: 905

Summary: Maverick knew that Iceman was sick again, but was told to keep it from a certain someone.

Warnings: swearing!

Maverick knew he was in trouble before she even entered the hangar. The thunderous echo of the external metal door slamming open and then shut again, thunk-thunk, acted as a warning shot. He had time to replace the wrench back in the toolbox and run his hands over the white rag in his jean pocket before the internal door flew open on the other side of the room. Moving around the Cessna carcass he was working on, Maverick didn’t have a chance to beat her to the punch.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ she demanded, her cheeks reddened and her stance strong. Pete could never look at her when she was angry without thinking of her brother, and how much of their fury was genetic. Kazansky genes were strong; the faintly blonde hair, ashy blue eyes that threw daggers without showing it, and a chronically unimpressed pout that dares you to challenge them. Maverick could see Tom in her, especially when she was fired up yet cold as ice.

Not wanting to inflame whatever blaze was ignited, Maverick rested an elbow up on the plane’s body, replying ‘wow, you could start with a good morning.’

At this, her crossed arms jostled, a low laugh emitting from her throat. ‘Good morning, what the fuck is wrong with you?’ She demanded, her mouth tight across her teeth while she waited for an explanation. Pete had to be honest with her, he had genuinely no idea why she was so angry. As far as he could remember, she had still been asleep when he left the house before the sun went up, and was only going to get groceries for the dinner they were sharing with Tom and Sarah tomorrow night. As for him, he had been at the hangar all morning, working in peace even with the birds that had decided that building a nest in active Navy property was a good idea.

Maverick watched as her face slowly fell, the back of her hand coming up to cover her mouth, the corners of her lips twitched and her eyes squeezed shut. A choked sob cut through the growing silence between them.

‘I ran into Penny in the store… and she asked me how you were coping with the news… I had to ask her… what she meant…’ she took breaths while dragging her voice from drowning in the shame and hurt filling her entire body, like a sticky ocean she had no hope of swimming in. She moved her hand away from her face and pointed a finger at Maverick. ‘He’s sick again and you knew! You knew and you kept it from me, you bastard!’ She seethed, her chest heaving.

‘I’m his best friend-’

‘And I’m your wife! And his sister! I had to find out my own brother is dying from Fucking Penny Benjamin in the middle of the goddamn Cash and Carry!’

Maverick was no Iceman. He couldn’t keep it cool in situations like this. He had known. He’d known for days, and had immediately made his way to the Hard Deck to get it out to Penny. Sarah had called him last week to pass it on, Ice was no longer able to hold verbal conversations without pain. But she had made him promise to say nothing to her, that he wanted to tell her in person. Tom decided that it had to come from him, in his voice, not the messenger she would probably shoot when the bomb dropped. Of course he had, look at her now. She was staring beyond him now, out to the sunbathed tarmac of the runway past the hangar doors, willing herself to not fall to her knees and sink through the ground.

Maverick took a step forward, hands slack by his side in resignation.

'Baby, I wanted to, I really did.' He sighed, now close enough to place both hands on her shoulders, 'please don't think I didn't want you to know. Ice wanted to tell you himself.'

She swallowed hard and blinked, nodding and turning her face up to the ceiling as Maverick wiped a tear from her cheek with his left hand. She knew Tom would exactly be the kind of person to do this. He was direct, and didn’t do second-hand news.

‘He’s always been like that. Prick.’ She joked, her voice rattling on its way out. She shifted her gaze to look back at Maverick, at the concerned frown on his face. The hooded eyes and furrowed brows gave him away, and the tight corners of his mouth pushing into his cheeks added to the signs of anxiousness.

A sigh of resignation left her lips as she pressed her forehead into his shoulder, the smell of kerosene from the plane’s fuel tank and metal reminding her that Mav was her home, her safe island in the stormy sea. Even now, after all the moving around because of the Navy and the restless nights wondering if he was okay, the instability his life had provided, he was still the lighthouse in the dark.

‘I’m still mad at him.’

‘When are you not?’

‘And I’m still mad at you, even though I understand why.’ She sighed in admittance, a dramatic frown on her face as her knees wiggled petulantly. He gave a small laugh, kissing the top of her head before wrapping his strong arms around her.

‘I love you too, baby.’

#pete Mitchell x kazansky! reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #iceman x sister! reader #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction

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foxymoxynoona · 2 years

Text

Lone Blue Egg (Pt 2)

Header and banners by the talented @awrkives

Summary: Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he's a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he's good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he's not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn't actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.

Penguin Hybrid Jungkook x Bird Female OC Book 1 in the Birdtan Series

CW/TAGS: humor, drama, angst, cringe, explicit sex, toy play/toy uh obsession?, oviposition, ice cubes, porn, cam girls and masturbation, oral (both), edging, semi-public shenanigans, mammoth condoms, specism, language, theft

Read on AO3 or below

Previous | MASTERLIST | NEXT

Jungkook hadn’t wanted to wait for the bus, so he just walked to work again. The weather was cooling off and people wore bulky coats and bulky backpacks and then turned around on the bus, thumping the people around them. He didn’t mind being packed in like vacuum sealed pillows ready for shipping, but he disliked the stress knowing his stop was coming up and he’d have to body his way through the waddle --but not too soon, because it was just as shitty to be one of the people by the doors, having to press and push inwards when the doors opened so as not to get shoved off the edge.

Anyway, Jungkook liked the cold. He liked the burning tingle in his nose and ears, though the morning sun was warm so that only started when he was just about there. He liked the rush of cool when he’d stretch the neck of his sweater or unzip his coat. He liked the way a shudder ran collectively through the people on the sidewalk when the wind blew. They were still a month away from snow, but he liked that too.

He sang quietly to himself as he walked. No headphones in, but Yoongi had been composing something soul-hauntingly beautiful last night, and Jungkook had lain in bed and made up words for it. He looked forward to that orchestra performance, not only for an evening packed into an auditorium for beautiful music but also because he was hopeful he’d have a date to take. Two women had started talking to him on Dive. They thought he was hot and he thought they were hot, which was a good start. One of them thought he was funny too. He hadn’t been trying to be funny but hey, he’d take it because she was a Blue Penguin. He didn’t usually have luck finding penguins at all on Dive. He wasn’t exactly the ideal body type for penguin women on an app all about making superficial snap judgements, and granted he really wanted to meet Emperor penguins like himself, but maybe he was being too picky? That’s what Taehyung had said. Open yourself up to meeting someone you didn’t expect to like.

Right, because Taehyung was the expert. Though, granted, of the four of them… he definitely had the most luck with women. He was comfortable with them. The rest of them were fucking disasters at the first sign a woman could be interested. As much as Jungkook would like to say that at least Yoongi was cool, when a particular owl woman dropped their packages off Yoongi practically drive-bombed down the staircase to get away from her. And then tried to insist that was normal and cool and she was probably used to that, as a beautiful owl. Uh-huh.

Jungkook squeezed his hand around his blue egg, tucked safely into the big pocket of his coat. His nose might be an ice cube but his egg retained the heat of his palm and returned it. Mutual benefit. That was the kind of relationship Jungkook wanted with anyone in his life. Partnership in everything. He remembered Taehyung once teasing, asking if the final test for courtship would be him letting a potential mate take his egg for a while --to which Jungkook had pointed out that male emperor penguins did all the incubating and so it wouldn’t be fair to expert her to know anything about that… before realizing he sounded like a crazy person. It wasn’t like he thought the egg had a baby inside it. It wasn’t like he thought his mate would lay an egg he had to keep bundled against a brood pouch with his feet. It was just one of those things… yeah. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. It was just one of those things!

The irony of seeing that woman at the exact moment he recalled she had said that to him (“It’s just one of those thing, huh?”) stunned him. He hadn’t seen her since the day she’d returned the egg a couple weeks ago, not even when he’d kept an eye out for her the next few days in order to give her a better thank you than he’d been able to answer in the height of his emotions.

Now, there she was, disrupting the flow of foot traffic right in the middle of the sidewalk. She gestured wildly, and only belatedly did Jungkook realize over the music in his head that she and a man were shouting at each other. The man, clearly the owner of the kiosk in the grassy space between the curb and buildings, towered over her and looked furious, but she shouted right back at him.

“I didn’t take your stupid fucking muffin!” she yelled. “Why would I want that gutter trash? Your coffee tastes like piss! It probably is piss!”

“You pinchy little piss-thief!” he shouted back at her. “How dare you steal from me? Three days this month! You think I don’t notice you taking my muffins? I know they’re good--

“I don’t have your muffin! Where? Where do I have your muffin? Up my asshole? You think I stole a whole cup of coffee?! This is harassment! This assault!”

The long line of people waiting were starting to look shifty, like they’d better leave. The man was going to lose all his business this way, regardless of what the woman had done.

“You took it! I don’t know how but you fucking stole a cup of coffee!” he shouted. “This thieving magpie--”

“Fuck you!”

She turned to go but the man grabbed her arm. She yelled. And Jungkook felt a spasm in his stomach. That wasn’t ok, to just grab her like that. Especially… well, did the kiosk owner really think she’d stolen a cup of coffee? She was standing right there without a cup in her hands… He was a big man, he might really hurt her; her coat wasn’t that thick and so she didn’t even look puffy. He owed the woman a thank you anyway.

“Hey!” Jungkook called, diving quickly forward. “Hey, hi, sorry.”

“Jungkook,” the woman greeted, clearly surprised to see him.

The owner immediately rounded on him, “You know this bitch?!”

Jungkook stood tall, to his full height, and pushed his chest out to look as strong as possible. Maybe he wasn’t the tallest guy on the street, but he’d developed a gym habit when he was young and lonely and bullied and that continued to this day, with visits to the one down the street three to four mornings a week. Granted, he’d hoped to bulk up, to at least create the illusion of a big warm body with muscle since he’d never been able to pack on the warm fat penguin women wanted no matter how much he ate… he still wasn’t that big but the muscles did give him some bulk. The shop owner had a few inches on him, but he was big and slow and older, and sizing Jungkook up now.

“What did you just say?” Jungkook asked. Honestly he wasn’t sure how to sound threatening but hoped that was enough. Less was probably more.

The man hesitated, then cried, “She steals! Your girlfriend here steals from me, all the time, and today I catch her! Red-handed!”

“You can’t catch something I didn’t do!” the woman shouted.

“If you caught her red-handed, shouldn’t she be holding the coffee?” Jungkook asked. “Where is she hiding it?”

“I saw her do it!”

“Where’s the coffee? If you saw her--”

“I don’t know!” the shop-owner shouted. “She made it disappear! One second it’s there, the next it isn’t, and it’s always her when a coffee or muffin goes missing! It’s not a coincidence!”

“Did anyone see me take something?” the woman demanded. “No! It’s a busy street! Someone would have seen it. You’re crazy, old man! You’re just shitty at business and blaming me --this is specism! Racism! Sexism!”

The man took a step towards her, and while Jungkook didn’t know if he’d actually meant it to be physical, he still stepped in between them. He was solid and the man basically bounced off of him. Jungkook didn’t even budge but the man was knocked back. Jungkook took a step forward, chest high.

“She… she stole from me!” the man said. “You’re in on it too!”

Further down the line, someone shouted, “Are we going to yell about this all day? I have work to get to!”

“Yeah! Just move it along!”

“I’m right here and I didn’t see her take anything,” someone else admitted.

“Because I didn’t!”

“We’re going,” Jungkook told the man, shoulders back and chin lifted. “Don’t bother her again.”

“Bother her? Bother her?!” the man shouted.

Jungkook put his hand on the woman’s arm to herd her ahead as she shouted over his shoulder, “That’s right, stuff your baseless accusation, you dumbass shitmouthed chickadee!” She patted Jungkook’s chest before allowing herself to be turned and walking alongside him. “Fuck, thank you so much! That fucking asshole was making such a scene. I really thought he was going to start swinging.”

They crossed the street, walking side by side as traffic waited, leaving the scene long behind. She bubbled and bounced, obviously still worked up. Truth be told, his adrenaline was pumping and though he seemed calm, inside his heart was pounding, because he thought the man was going to start swinging too. It had been years since Jungkook was in a fight, but he was tougher now, it wouldn’t be like it had been before. He could probably take down an old street vendor if he needed to. This man who’d stopped his business to scream at and grab a woman, accusing her of somehow magicking away a cup of coffee.

“He was keeping his customers waiting to fight with you,” Jungkook said. “Over a muffin and a coffee.”

“I know, right? Ridiculous!”

“He shouldn’t grab women on the street.”

“Yeah, he’s a total asshole,” she agreed. “But his muffins are the fucking best anywhere around here.” She let out a deep sigh… then held a muffin out to him. “Want some?”

Jungkook stopped walking and stared at the muffin a moment in absolute shock. She stopped walking too. Other commuters curved around them like a current around two boulders in the stream.

“What?” she asked.

His brow furrowed, “But…” But you said you didn’t steal the muffin… Her eyebrows raised, waiting. And she lifted a to-go cup of coffee to her lips. “What the fuck?!” he cried. “I… how did you-- but I defended you!” Fuck, this was what he got for sticking his neck out for someone!

“I know, shit, thank you so much,” she nodded. “I didn’t know you could be so intimidating! You got all, like, puffed up--”

“But you took the-- but I defended you!”

“Oh. You’re really mad.” She looked down at the coffee and the muffin and quickly put the muffin back in her jacket pocket. “Ok, look, you did me a big favor--”

“But you did steal the coffee and muffin!”

“It’s like three dollars!”

“You don’t have three dollars?”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s the point,” he sighed and started walking again. Fuck. Now he felt like an asshole. That poor coffeeman, robbed, gaslit, and bullied down… FUCK.

“It’s not the point. He’s the kind of man who grabs a woman he doesn’t know because--”

“Who confronts a thief stealing things from his shop.”

“Ok. Look. It’s not a great habit but I’ve only done it to him a couple times and it’s really not a big deal, his coffee really is watery and--”

“But how did you steal a cup of coffee?!” he demanded, stopping and whirling on her. No. No, he didn’t have time for this, he didn’t want to associate with this. He passed that guy every day and now he’d feel like shit. Probably he’d give the guy the $3 tomorrow morning but he’d be mortified. He was an idiot.

“Look,” she sighed, “It’s just a… it’s just a thing. I’m not homeless or anything, it’s just a thing I can’t help,” she insisted. He wasn’t looking at her, but she was walking quickly to keep up with him, her legs moving almost twice as quickly. “It’s like you keeping that egg of yours warm.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Jungkook argued, immediately reaching into his pocket to reassure himself and his egg about this completely inaccurate comparison.

His egg was gone.

He stopped again, ignoring the apologies and grumbles as several people slammed into him. He barely moved at the impact as they stumbled around. His stomach plummeted. Had it fallen out of his pocket when he wrongly bodied away that old man–

The woman’s face twisted into something akin to embarrassment or apology as she pulled the egg out of her jacket pocket and handed it over.

“What the fuck!”

“Sorry!” she sighed as he snatched it out of her hand. “I thought the guy was going to swing at you. If you’d gotten into a fight, it might have fallen out of your pocket and gotten all scratched up so I was keeping it safe. It’s hard as a rock but it could still chip on the concrete--”

“It’s not yours. You can’t just-- just take things from people.”

“I’m sorry. I told you, I was just keeping it safe. I know it means a lot to you.”

“And if I’d fought that guy, it would be because you lied to both of us!”

“Right, so I didn’t want your egg to get broken.”

He let out a wordless groan and strode forward again. This woman was a menace. This woman was chaotic in a bad way. He had made a grave mistake.

“I would never hurt your egg,” she insisted, as if that was the problem right now. They reached their work building and Jungkook realized people were going to see them together. If she stole coffee and a muffin from a street cart, if she’s steal the egg of a penguin who’d literally just stupidly but nobly helped her, what would she steal from a big building like this?!

“So you just steal things? We are not the same,” he snapped. “You just take whatever--”

“Woah, hey. I don’t take anything important. I spend more time finding things for people but sometimes there’s--”

“My egg is important,” he said. “And you-- wait, did you steal my egg?”

“I gave it back right away. I told you, I was just making sure it didn’t--”

“No, before! You said you found it in the stairwell--”

Fuck, they were going to cause a scene in the lobby, and if there was anything Jungkook hated, it was scenes. Singling yourself out like that and attracting attention was stupid. He grabbed her arm to drag her to the side, but dropped it as soon as he realized the similarity to what the kiosk owner had done. He didn’t want to yell at her in the lobby, but his blood was starting to boil at the realization that she must have stolen his egg before, right? It didn’t make sense that he’d lost it. He would never just lose it!

She, meanwhile, sighed, “You’re overreacting. I didn’t realize you were so…”

“Honest?”

“Superior and uptight.”

“Wow,” he said, stunned into disbelief. “You steal from people and I--”

“I pinch. I pick. I find. I don’t steal.”

“Are you a magpie?” Jungkook repeated the earlier question. It meant nothing to him, other than he knew magpies stole things and liked shiny things, right? He’d heard that.

She looked aghast.

“No, I’m not a magpie,” she scoffed. “Wow. I thought you’d understand.”

“Based on what? We don’t know each other,” Jungkook said, loud on purpose.

The woman looked like she was going to say something but stopped herself. She actually clenched her fist and pursed her lips up, like a frustrated child, and she gave him this look, like he really had disappointed him. She looked like an angry toddler, hair haloed out from her scrunched up face.

“Fine. Bye, Jungkook.”

He didn’t even remember her name. And he’d saved her from something she’d actually done. What else did she expect from him? It was bullshit. What had she expected from him? They were strangers. And she had definitely stolen his egg… right? Even if he didn’t understand how or when because… well he still didn’t know where he was when it went missing, but it was too much of a coincidence if she’d found it in a stairwell when she was clearly an immoral kleptomaniac. Yeah, he didn’t care if he disappointed someone like that. Probably she got away with it all the time just because she was pretty, and that made him angry too. Maybe she was a cuckoo, tricking people like that. You couldn’t say you were good at finding things if you were the one who stole them in the first place! If he could prove she’d stolen his egg, he’d… he’d… do something about it!

And seriously, how the fuck had she stolen a cup of coffee?!

“Do your parents take the Holiday really seriously?”

Jungkook looked up from his plate, where he’d been doing his best not to just gulp his food down. Ok, so he talked with food in his mouth sometimes, he never claimed to be perfect. But you needed to be perfect on a date like this. You know, a date that wasn’t going well. He’d known it wouldn’t go well from the moment she looked him up and down and mused, “You’re softer in your picture.” Softer. Softer. Penguin girl speak for you don’t look chubby the way a good, handsome penguin you’d take home to meet your parents looks.

“Oh, um… yeah, my family is pretty serious about it,” he nodded, evading a question he didn’t want to answer until directly asked. He kept a hand in his pocket, wrapped firmly around his egg. It slowed him down eating. It slowed down his heart and his mind. It gave him something to clench besides his teeth.

“Mine do too,” Hai admitted. Shit, she was pretty. And she was smart and successful and she liked hiking and and had a little teacup yorkie that had, unfortunately, not come on the date but looked really fucking cute in all her pictures. “They’ve never been able to decide if they care more about my career or a mate. I chose career and now I’m finally actually practicing law and instead they just want to know who I’m bringing home… there just aren’t many penguins around here though, have you noticed?”

Jungkook flinched and shrugged, “I don’t know. There don’t have to be many when they’re as pretty as you…”

She brushed right past the flattery and asked, “What about you? Are your parents happy you put your career first even though you want a family? I bet they are, it’s such a sexist double standard. Are your parents sexist?”

“Ah… no, not really… I mean, a lot of the girls I grew up with–”

“Women.”

“Yes? Yeah but I mean they were girls when we were growing up…” This wasn’t going well. Now he was flustered and couldn’t remember what he’d been going to say. He wasn’t even thirty yet, it wasn’t like he was ancient.

“The women when they were young…” she prompted, waiting with a spoonful of food halfway to her mouth.

“Now a lot of them don’t work, they’re just home. I think people where I grew up get mated really young compared to here.”

“Your profile said you’re very serious and determined to meet your mate and that you’d even be willing to move,” Hai recalled. “So then why did you leave home? You could already have met someone.”

There were so many possible answers to that. I needed a fresh start. I wanted to meet someone new. None of the girls there liked me. I didn’t want a mate when I was younger anyway, I hated everyone and I wanted to be alone forever.

“I wanted to focus on my career so I would be stable and able to take care of my mate and family,” he said, a practiced answer. Because she herself was career oriented, he added, “Family can be overbearing so it’s good to put some space so you can focus on your career, right?”

“Are you asking me if I believe that?” Hai asked. Her tone made him cringe. “I don’t. Why are you looking for a mate if you don’t want to be near your family? Do you hope your children feel the same way too?”

“But at some point, children leave the creche–”

“Penguins do. We aren’t actually penguins, just because we have some DNA. Some of us more than others.” She looked pointedly at his fitted button-up shirt, the one that revealed he was not as bulky as his profile picture. He’d worn three sweaters to get that look, he often did, and he’d known tonight he probably should sweater-up. But there was this part of him that wanted to just get the rejection over with. What was worse, rejection on the first date? Or rejection when your clothes came off? Having experienced both, he could answer: the latter. Even if both sucked.

Jungkook did his best, but another date ended before dessert. Hai made clear through her criticisms and pointed questions that it wasn’t just his body she found lacking, but his demeanor too. She was quick and sharp and opinionated and clearly got bored with the slow, meandering answers he gave to things, and that his sentences often ended in a question mark. He had opinions! Sure! But wasn’t the whole point of a date, to be open and listen and learn? Not shove your absurd dislike of romantic films and soft ballads and coconut gelato and whipped cream on hot chocolate down someone’s throat?

Seriously, who didn’t like whipped cream on their hot chocolate?? Maybe someone dieting to lose weight? But Hai was already on the thin side for what penguin men liked and while Jungkook would never be so body-shamey or not date someone he really liked because of something like that, wasn’t it hypocritical if she was trying to stay thin but had judged him for not being able to help it? If he took her out for a romantic date to get hot chocolate in the cold, what would she do? Slide the whipped cream off? Send it back? Fuck, high maintenance too…

Hai was the one who ended the date. He paid, even though she made more money. So apparently she liked tradition in some ways. By the time he turned the corner, she’d already blocked him on the app. So he tried to be angry and mean about her to ice over the pain of rejection, but it still stung. Another girl wholly unimpressed with what he had to offer. No surprise there. Maybe he should just go back to not looking or wanting or needing… but a lone penguin was easy picking… and it was a race against time at this point for him to be truly alone not by choice, once Yoongi and Taehyung and Namjoon found their mates. Once again he’d be left behind. He was always left behind. How many more times could he survive being left behind?

He took a shortcut through the park, deciding to walk home in the cold instead of taking the overly warm bus. The sun was down and the cold felt sharper against his cheekbones. He liked the way it froze over the shame still flushed in his cheeks.

“Well maybe, Hai, I’d be a better penguin if someone had raised me to be a good penguin,” he huffed, going out of his way to stomp through the crunchy ice that had formed on the side of the path from the last rain a few days ago, when temperatures were still wobbling back and forth around freezing. The noise was satisfying; he really wanted to crunch it between his teeth. He kicked a particularly large block that broke off and watched it skid down the path, crumbling with each touchdown. It stopped within feet of the hot chocolate stand he would have brought Hai too if she had been less shitty.

“... buy myself some fucking hot cocoa,” he mumbled to himself, shuffling over to the line.

He looked up to count the people ahead of him, just in time to see that girl. The thief girl! The girl from his building! He actually saw her hand reach forward towards the cups waiting on the edge while the man who was actually buying the drinks for himself paid, his back turned.

Impulsively, Jungkook dove around everyone else and grabbed her hand in his. She stumbled backwards, stunned. For a moment they looked at each other, hands clasped. He didn’t know which of them was more shocked.

“I’ll buy you a hot chocolate,” he said. “You don’t have to…”

“Uh…” a male voice said, the man who’d just finished paying. “Excuse… me?”

Suddenly the woman busted out laughing.

“Oh my god, you thought I was stealing it!” she screamed with laughter. “And you… what… swooped in to stop me? To save me from myself?” She looked like she was going to double over; she pulled her hands into her stomach to laugh, dragging his hand with her. “And your face! Fuck, you’re funny.”

“Uh…” Jungkook had no clue what to say. He wrenched his hand out of hers.

The man was just as confused and asked, “Uh… Rana?”

“Move along please,” the man working the cart asked.

Rana picked up a cup and looked under the lid but scowled, “The only thing criminal here is how little whipped cream you put on these. Come on, no one’s one a diet here, load us up!” Suddenly she paused and looked at Jungkook, “You aren’t a diet person or something, right?”

“No….?”

She leaned in, watching the man sigh but put more whipped cream onto both cups. Jungkook looked nervously at the man, not sure at all what was happening here.

“Ok, I’ll take them both. Thanks, Fulton, we’re even now.”

“Wait, is that why you wanted two–”

“Bye!” she called, turning away with both cups. She raised her boot, knee bent, to kick Jungkook in the butt, and then started walking. “You want this or not?”

“I am so fucking confused right now.”

“Do you want this hot chocolate or not?”

“Why did– wait– um–”

“Your confused face is so cute,” she laughed. “I was on a bad date and you just saved me, so as a reward you can have his hot chocolate.” Fulton stood there awkward, not following. Probably he’d heard. He let out a deep sigh and turned away.

Jungkook stumbled after her, tripping on his own oversized shoes in his confusion as he asked, “What did you mean you’re even?”

“I had to go on a date with him because I lost a bet. I’m terrible at luck games, I really am. So even though you were an asshole the last time I saw you, I took the opportunity to end it.”

Jungkook was struggling to keep up but asked, “Well… I mean, how long did you spend with the guy? I don’t think you should go on a date with someone just because you lost a bet.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. He bought me hot chocolate, that’s a date, and now it’s over. He’s not following us, is he? Maybe I should walk in front of you so he loses sight of me. His vision is terrible. It’s really embarrassing I lost a game to him.”

“What kind of game?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, glasses are cute and all but I even played honest and I still lost so that doesn’t exactly teach me to be honest in card games, does it?”

“You’re counting cards?”

“It was a fierce game of Uno.”

“What?” But he’d taken the hot cocoa when she held it out, and the absolutely confusing nature of this encounter had effectively overridden his date horror.

“Uno is a card game where–”

“Yeah, I know what Uno is. But you still play that?”

“Uh, yeah? At the community center? What do you think I’m teaching twelve-year-olds, Texas Hold’em or something?” she laughed. She leaned down to lick at the whipped cream on her hot cocoa and wound up with a dollop on her nose. She laughed at herself and wiped it off and into her mouth. “Ok, well anyway, you saved me, so I forgive you for being an asshole the other day, but I don’t see why we need to talk to each other anymore even though it was really weird you ran up and took my hand. So… bye.” She gave him a short wave and suddenly turned down a side path.

Impulsively Jungkook dove after her, “Wait.”

“What.” She glared at him. If she was trying to look threatening, it didn’t work. Her features were too sweet and young, it just looked like she was joking about being mad.

“Sorry about… that I was an asshole,” he said. To be honest, he didn’t quite remember why she thought he was an asshole.

“And?”

“And what?”

“And for thinking I was stealing hot chocolate and interrupting my date to hold my hand?”

His eyes narrowed as he argued, “But you didn’t want to be on that date.”

“You didn’t know that when you interrupted it. Besides, you can see someone not on a good date and still not interrupt them. Like I saw you on a not good date and I didn’t go running into the restaurant to hold your hand.”

“You saw my date?” he asked, slowing down. “Are you a stalker too?”

“You’d like that, huh? No, I just happen to live on the other side of the restaurant from this park, so I walked past it on my date and saw you slumped down in a chair across from a very beautiful woman.”

He made a noise in his throat.

“Yeah well serves you right for going out with a beautiful woman. Did you expect her to have a good personality too? Look, you only get two: beautiful, good personality, good family, likes you back.”

“At least three,” he argued. “You shouldn’t settle for less than three.”

“Oh? Not all four? Either you’re only a little romantic or you’re jaded.”

“Jaded,” he said and let out a sigh. The cup in his hand was too warm without a cardboard sleeve and he hadn’t brought his gloves, so he tried to tug his coat down over his hand, but the fabric made his palm too slippery. She reached into her pocket and dug out a cardboard sleeve.

“Filched it,” she joked, popping it open for him to slip his cup into.

“You’re allowed to take it. You were a paying customer.”

“Very strong sense of rules, huh?”

“You think they don’t apply to you,” he countered.

“I think the rules don’t fit me. A lot of rules don’t. Our world has so many rules,” she argued. “Like everyone is supposed to be exactly like everyone else of their species. But it doesn’t work that way and I thought you’d understand that. You’re awfully scrawny for a penguin.’

“Well you’re awfully nosy for a… crow.”

“Nope.”

“Raven.”

“Flattering actually, but no.”

“Maybe… a…”

“I’m not going to tell you because I like you being curious instead of an asshole,” she said.

“I’m not an asshole,” he grumbled.

“If you have to tell people…”

“You just keep catching me at a bad time.”

“Right, it’s my fault. If I could just be less receptive of assholes…”

“No, I don’t mean it like that, I just meant…”

“How’s your egg?” she asked after a pause in which he didn’t know what to say. He was embarrassed about having to defend his behavior to her. He didn’t mean to be grouchy lately, especially when she had helped him out finding his egg. Even though she might have stolen it. He didn’t know for sure. But she also seemed kind of harmless… And he had been weird to assume she was stealing and interrupt her date…

When he didn’t answer, she reached into his pocket, where his own hand had been wrapped around it.

“Hey!”

“Let me see it. You know I took good care of it.”

For some reason, he found himself not resisting when she pulled it out of his pocket. It was crazy. How dare she! But he let her, watching carefully how large it looked in her hand, but held securely.

When she took a detour off the path, he followed too, and they cut across the grass to climb a hill, at the top of which a dry concrete fountain sparkled with frost. The park trees didn’t reach up here and the moonlight was bright enough to see by, even without any park lights up here.

“It’s really pretty,” she said, holding it close. There was something raw to Jungkook about having her look at it like that. He suddenly regretted letting her take it. Why had he done that? He didn’t know her! Fuck, she could just hurl it off into the park right now and he’d have done this to himself. “The blue swirls remind me of the sides of ice shelves. Is that why you like it?”

“Are you an ice bird?” he asked with surprise.

“No. I can still like pretty things though. It sucks it’s so hard to get to the actual ice shelves in real life. I want to bite it.”

“My egg?!” he cried, reaching forward.

She turned away from him, laughing, “No, the ice, you dummy. I’m not going to hurt your egg, I know it’s important to you. But what about this etching on it? ‘The White House, Easter 2004’ and then that big ugly house. Why is it a White House egg? Is that important?”

“It’s not important,” he insisted, finally successfully pulling it out of her hand. He pressed his thumb to the etching, then slid it back into his pocket. To try and look a little cooler about his grabbiness, he sipped his hot chocolate. When he lowered his cup, she giggled.

“You have whipped cream on your lip.” He reached up his hand to brush it away but apparently missed it, because she wiped it away with her thumb, then popped the remnant into her mouth. At his look of surprise, she rolled her eyes, “Whatever, I like whipped cream.”

“How did you know my name?” he asked her, deciding the whipped cream from his face to her thumb into her mouth was not the thing he wanted to talk about right now.

“Is that a real question?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s on your work badge you wear into the building we both work in every single day,” she pointed out. “I’m shockingly literate.” The serious delivery of such sarcasm made his mouth twitch; he lifted his cup quickly again so he wouldn’t laugh. “What about you?”

“No, I’m illiterate.”

The laughter bubbled out of her, which pleased him. He appreciated her setting him up like that for a pretty obvious joke and then still laughing about it.

He pretended to not be proud of it and corrected, “No, what question are you asking me? I didn’t know your name.” She’d hopped up onto the edge of the fountain and began to slowly walk around it, so he followed her but on the ground. It put her a good head or so taller than him.

“What do you do?”

“Oh you don’t know?”

He wasn’t expecting the thump of her finger flicking against the side of his face, followed by her laughter, “Sorry, I’m not your stalker just because I knew your name. Don’t be so disappointed.”

“I’m a software systems engineer, uh– I make databases and software programs for my company–”

“I know what a software engineer is,” she interrupted. “Do you always assume people are stupider than you?”

“You stole a cup of coffee, so yeah that throws me off about your intelligence–”

“Oh shut up, you’re impressed by it,” she laughed. “I bet you’ve been wondering how I did it since then, huh?”

He glared at her, pouted about it actually, because he didn’t like the way she seemed to keep reading his mind.

“Well I won’t tell you.” She hopped down from the fountain ledge. “I’m a claims adjuster for insurance and I hate it but I’m very good at it even though the pay is shit at my level.”

“Are your parents proud?”

“I don’t have parents. What a weird, nosy question. See? Too many rules, Jungkook. Just because someone is alive doesn’t mean they actively have parents.”

He stopped where he was and stared at her back for a moment. Her curly hair looked midnight black in the moonlight and hung down over her blue coat. She didn’t have parents at all?

“Are you bitter about it?”

“About what, the pay?” she asked, turning around and walking backwards. He felt compelled to follow. “Yeah. I save my company so much money! Why don’t they give me some of the money! And before you ask, the only things I filch are small things like paperclips and pens so it’s not like I’m getting my salary adjustment–”

“No, about not having parents.”

“Why would I be bitter about that?”

“You sound really bitter,” he informed her.

“Oh my god, are you the bitter police? You want me to pour my heart out about childhood trauma? It’s not some deep thing, we just don’t fit each other so I left the nest,” she said, throwing a hand up. She drank what was clearly her last sip of her hot cocoa. “You can just reject the rules that don’t fit you.”

“I don’t think I want life advice from someone who steals for fun.”

“You’re so fixated on the stealing thing. Do you fixate a lot? Oh, are you wanting me to teach you?”

“No, don’t teach me–”

“Come on, there’s a shop right over there–”

“Rana, no!” She took off running, tossing her cup into a recycling bin without slowing. He did the same and found himself struggling not to laugh because she was laughing. There was something completely ridiculous about chasing a laughing woman through the park, snow crunching underfoot, some shaking loose from a tree where maybe a squirrel or something had jumped. She grabbed the light pole to stop herself at the corner, but when he almost caught up to her, she ran forward instead of waiting for the cross signal. At least traffic was slow so she didn’t get hit, but someone honked as he chased after.

There was in fact a shop she’d headed towards, a whole little row of them. Jungkook this area well since they weren’t far from his apartment, though he’d never paid attention to this block. She stopped by a covered sidewalk display and ran her fingers over shiny cashmere scarves.

“How are you so fast?” he demanded, sliding to a stop beside her. “I’m fast!”

“Yeah but I knew where I was going. Also I don’t think you were really trying to catch me. Don’t you ever play?”

“And what, tackle you to the ground?”

“Or just touch me or take hold of me in a big fluffy hug? No? What do you think of this?” she asked, lifting a red and gold scarf.

He glared, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Not sure how else to make sure she understood he wasn’t joking, he grabbed both of her hands and said, “Look with your eyes, not your hands.”

“This is romantic.”

She laughed at his sigh. Her hands were cold and dry, also gloveless, probably to make it easier to steal things. He dropped her hands but gave her a pointed look.

“How old are you?” she asked. “You already look like a disappointed dad.”

“I do not!”

“Is that how you look at your egg? No wonder it wanted a vacation with me, I only looked at it lovingly.”

“It did not–”

“Oh, it had a blast with me. I’m the fun parent.”

“I can’t tell if you’re mocking me–”

“Teasing and mocking aren’t the same thing.”

“What’s the difference?” he demanded, even though he knew there was a difference. She slid around this open section of the shop, where heaters hung over doorways and employees in coats and scarves watched shoppers poke around the wares on outside display . There were warmer indoor spaces but Rana skipped the door and wandered to the next cart, covered with brightly patterned socks.

“Are you a sock guy?” she asked, pointing to a pair with tiny penguins. “You strike me as a cozy sock guy.”

“That’s offensive,” he joked, pointing at the print.

“So… no?” She arched her eyebrow. Actually he liked kind of fun socks, but it seemed like a stupid thing to like, so he only had a couple patterned pairs. They were very warm and he wore them only at home. She shrugged and put the socks back.

“Is there a pair with your species?” he asked. “I think I’m right that you’re at least a bird.”

“You sense it?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever think,” she asked, leaning uncomfortably close, “That maybe people care too much about a strand of DNA? It’s like if you freaked out about a single gray hair.”

“I don’t have gray hair,” he quickly answered. Her gaze had flicked up. He reached to his hairline, partially exposed by his beanie that had slipped during the run. He tugged it back into place and decided her laugh meant she was joking.

“You’d look incredibly distinguished with salt and pepper. You’ve got that baby face, you’ll always be handsome, huh? I definitely think you’d be more handsome with fun socks but whatever, your feet, your rules.”

“Do you have a foot thing?” he blurted out. Fuck. Fuck he didn’t know where that had come from. Something about her saying he was handsome after Hai had clearly thought the opposite just flustered him and he felt that unavoidable need to say something weird and make clear he was not worth her flirting. Was she flirting? He didn’t think she was flirting, she seemed to just kind of be a weird person. She didn’t speak to him any differently than she’d spoken to that guy she was apparently on an unwanted date with. Actually it was kind of hard to imagine her really on a date with someone. She was pretty but also pretty weird…

“Dodo?” he asked suddenly.

“What? Did you just ask if I have a foot thing and then call me a dodo?!”

“Ah, sorry,” he grimaced and pressed his hand to his eyes.

“I can’t read your mind. What’s the connection? Dodos are extinct, you dingbat. Did they have big feet?”

“No no nevermind, look, shiny.”

“Now you’re mocking me,” she glared at him, but did in fact look where he had pointed, only to turn away with a shrug. “Yeah, well…”

“You like shiny things.”

“I thought you don’t know anything about me,” she countered. He took another step in that direction, but she grabbed his arm, “No no let’s go that way, there are more shops–”

“It’s literally shiny things dangling on strings. It’s your favorite thing in the world.” He didn’t know if that was true, but she looked uncomfortable for the first time ever and the power trip of being the one not squirming for once was too much to ignore. He was stronger than her and bodied her along to the shop window with the dangling sparklies. Someone inside the shop had just touched one, and the movement made the lights flash and sparkle on the things attached: shiny stones, bits of metal, beads, sticks, glass ornaments in the shapes of leaves and birds. They were mesmerizing; he found himself drawn towards them, even if he hadn’t just wanted to tease her for wanting to stay away.

“Hey really, let’s go–”

“Rana!” he crowed, pointing to a little sign below: Crafted by Rana, see inside for price list.

“Not that Rana.”

“What?! That’s you!”

“That’s not my last name,” she said, grabbing his arm tighter. “Holy shit, look at those fuzzy earmuffs over there! Mittens! Giant ice cube! Uh… fish cake!”

“There’s no last name. That is you,” he insisted, certain of it now.

“Jungkook…”

Hearing her whine his name like that was definitely not going to make him give in now. He planted his feet and leaned in closer to the window, paying closer attention now.

“Wow, you make these?”

“Stooooop.”

“I’m serious!”

“It’s just a hobby for some side money. Whatever.”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought me over here. I bet you wanted me to see this,” he mused. He grinned and crossed his arms, amused by all her fidgeting.

“I did not! I figured you would stomp off in a pout before we got this far or that you wouldn’t remember my name or that you can’t read or something.”

“They’re really pretty.”

“Stop. Let’s go.”

Instead of going, he motioned to two other people on the sidewalk and asked, “Have you seen these? They’re pretty, huh? I think they’d make a good gift with Christmas coming up if you do that kind of thing.”

“What are you doing?” Rana gasped and began punching his stomach, though with no real force. Her paltry punches just thudded against his heavy down coat.

“Business. So you can buy coffee instead of stealing it.”

The people did actually enter the shop, and this time Jungkook didn’t hide his proud smile. She lowered her chin and glared at him.

“Why are you shy? This is the first cool thing I’ve learned about you.”

“Hey!” She crossed her arms and looked away, then asked without looking at him, “You think it’s cool?”

“They’re pretty. You do a good job of balancing color and materials… do they make noise?”

“Like a wind chime? No, they’re just… like a light chime.”

“Ah. Where do you get all the stuff for them?”

“I told you, I’m good at finding things.”

“You’re sure you aren’t a– ok, I won’t say it again. I don’t know why that’s so offensive to you.”

She rolled her eyes, “Have you ever met a magpie?”

“No. Well, there was this girl…”

She waited, looking at him with her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, uh… I mean, I didn’t really know her.”

“I’m not interested in your casual hook ups,” she said and started walking again.

“Ha, she wasn’t hooking up with me. She just did um…” She was a cam girl. Oops. He didn’t want to finish that sentence. “Anyway, uh… that’s cool that you make those. I’d be tempted to buy one if you weren’t here.”

“Oh my god, don’t buy one. How offensive. Just steal one if you really want it.” At his quirked eyebrow, she laughed, “I’m kidding. Don’t steal from me, it’s rude.”

“Pot, meet kettle–”

“No,” she interrupted. “It’s different. I don’t just run around stealing things all the time. You’re so judgemental. Just things that aren’t important or no one notices or whatever… I don’t like steal candy from babies or anything.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Fine, what do you do when you aren’t working then? Dating, bars, what else?”

He noticed she’d shuffled him along, but there were a few more shops still and whatever, he’d walk along and talk with her for a few more minutes before he headed home.

“I don’t know… I… play video games. I draw and paint sometimes, I guess. My friend’s been teaching me piano. I go to the gym. That’s it.”

“That’s a lot.”

“I guess…”

“Nothing that brings you deeper meaning?” she asked. “That’s ok. Not everything has to be deep. It’s ok to just do meaningless things you enjoy.”

“I don’t– uh, I mean, I guess I’m still trying to find that uh… that purpose and landing place, you know?”

“Penguins don’t fly.”

“Fine, I’m still looking for my… warmth…” he felt stupid as soon as he said it. Why had he said that?

“Hm. I get it. Well,” she said. “Be careful trying to find deeper meaning in a girlfriend. People can make you warm but they can take it away too. What sorts of things do you paint? Or is that private?”

“I’m not trying to find deeper meaning in a girlfriend. Are you some relationship expert? Just because I want a mate and a family and–” He cut himself abruptly off, feeling the flush of shame. He’d much rather talk to her about camgirls than that. “You don’t get it so whatever.”

“Prickly!”

“You’re a lone animal,” he decided as they stopped to look at the liquor store window. They’d already put up wintry decorations in the window, snowflakes and evergreen boughs, fake snow around the boxes. A few artisanal crates of red wines and a pine tree in a wooden barrel were outside the door, trying to lure shoppers in. She stopped and read some of the labels.

“I don’t like dating,” she admitted.

“Yeah, so don’t judge people who are trying to find someone. Not all of us like to be lonely.”

“Ouch,” she laughed. “I guess I pissed you off, huh?”

That made him stop and backtrack, “No, I just– you were getting preachy about– clearly you don’t understand the desire to have all of that.”

“Clearly.” She wasn’t looking at him as she continued to the next shop and now he felt shitty.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

She smiled at him anyway and said, “I just meant, you should feel like enough on your own because you are enough. You don’t need a girlfriend to give you warmth, she can just be a bonus warmth. She’ll have her own purpose, won’t she? Or are penguins one of those species that expect the women to just spit out eggs and be docile?”

“No. Actually the males do the incubating –in the birds, not in the humans. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“I just don’t want to have to explain it to you.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she argued. “I’m just a stranger in your work building. I don’t know why you’ve even been following me this long.”

“I live just down the street there.” He pointed. She stopped and looked that way as if she hadn’t known this –well, of course she hadn’t known that. She looked at him with surprise, dark eyes sparkling reflecting the fairy lights twinkling in the bookstore window beside them.

“Oh.”

He didn’t like her face. Her expression. He liked her face just fine, but her expression suddenly looked hurt and he got this deep feeling now that she’d stopped having fun with him. Maybe he shouldn’t have dragged her over to look at the shiny things, but then he wouldn’t have learned this cool thing she did! She couldn’t actually be embarrassed about that, right?

“Well, I won’t keep you then, I thought you were just bored and wandering like me,” she shrugged. “I live that way so I’m going to go now.”

“Wait, but you were on a date when I found you–”

“Byeeeee.”

“Rana, sto– please stop.” He grabbed her arm. She froze again. “Will you at least look for cars before you cross the street? Are you a pigeon?”

“Some of the best people I know are pigeons so I will choose not to be offended,” she grinned at him. “Have a good night!”

“Wait, it’s dark. Isn’t it a long walk for you? You said you live on the other side of–”

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” she called to him, crossing since the light had stopped traffic.

“Wait!” he called. She reached the other side and looked back at him, but he didn’t actually know what to say. He’d actually enjoyed walking and talking with her. She was weird.

“What?” she called back.

“Can I pay for a cab home for you?” he asked, unable to think of anything else to say. She laughed. “Why are you laughing?” he yelled across the street. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“I know! Today I learned penguins are really dumb, especially the women. Night night, Jungkook. Check your pocket!”

“I swear to god, if you stole my egg–” He stuck his hand in and pulled out…

A string with glass birds and metal discs and seashells tied to it. He didn’t know if it was one from the window… well no, it couldn’t be. Right? They’d been outside. And those were sticks with multiple strings tied and this was just one string, no stick.

“What do I do with only one string?”

“Fuck if I know! Maybe you’ll be desperate enough to hang out with me again. Bye!” She waved her hand– which was suddenly holding a bottle of red wine.

“Rana! No!”

She knew exactly what he was yelling about. Her laugh bounced off the cars as she took off through the park at a run. He didn’t really like watching her go off like that but at least the park wasn’t large, was well lit, and there were lots of people still around. He didn’t like how abruptly the evening had ended, like he’d done something wrong, but she’d gone off happy. Her laugh was one of those infectious ones. She really needed to stop stealing stuff though.

He tucked the light catcher string back into his pocket with his blue egg and went home with an unexpected smile on his face.

Jungkook didn’t know why he’d agreed to go to this stupid party with Taehyung and Namjoon.

Ok yes, he did. He had sworn to wingman for Namjoon. Namjoon was always noticing worthy women and then blundering the greeting. Eagle-eyed but flat-footed or something like that. Like an eagle smacking into a carcass, that was the grace he had for introductions. So Jungkook agreed to go because he might not have Taehyung’s charm but he was also not going to swoop and steal a catch –unless it was a penguin woman, which was fair game. But probably a penguin woman wouldn’t be at a party like this in the first place. And probably a penguin woman wouldn’t be into him.

“The women are that way.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jungkook grumbled. “You didn’t have to follow me.”

“Well you were supposed to introduce me to the crane by the wine bar,” Namjoon sulked.

“You know I don’t know the crane by the wine bar, right?” Jungkook pointed out. “Tae’s better.”

“You’re non-threatening.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook frowned. “Penguins can be threatening when we need to be. Have you even seen the inside of a penguin’s mouth?”

“The inside of your mouth is a normal human mouth–”

“Can you guys stop saying weird things?” Taehyung called, appearing behind them in the dark. “Girls don’t want to hear about the inside of your mouths when you’re first meeting. Jesus fuck no wonder you guys are single.”

“I’m a dentist!” Namjoon defended.

“Yeah but stop telling women that when you meet them. It just makes everyone self conscious. The first thing they wonder is ‘can he tell I didn’t brush my teeth today’ and the next thing they wonder is ‘is it true he can tell if I gave head to someone else recently–’”

“No and yes but I’m not giving women dental exams when I take them home with me.”

“You aren’t doing anything with them because you don’t get them home with you!”

While they were bickering, Jungkook resumed his mission. The tree was low with gnarled branches splitting out everywhere, so easy to find reasonable footholds, but the branches were all thin and he could tell wouldn’t hold his weight. He pulled himself up by a higher branch, a little thicker, and quickly braced his feet to distribute his weight.

“The fuck is he doing?” Taehyung asked.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mumbled as the branch creaked beneath him. “Hey, catch me if I fall!”

“Yeah, I got you,” Namjoon said, immediately holding his arms up and bracing himself beneath Jungkook.

“What are you doing? Is he too drunk? He’s only had a beer…”

Jungkook decided just to go for it and trust Namjoon. The dude was a mountain, he’d be able to catch him. So he leapt forward, grabbed the string, and plummeted. For a moment there was a tug like the string was going to hold him up, but then it snapped and he went down with it.

Namjoon caught him awkwardly and they collapsed to the ground in a painful heap while Taehyung laughed from behind his phone, recording the whole thing.

“Fuck, they went everywhere,” Jungkook scowled.

“What went everywhere? What are you even doing?”

“There was a string of bells in the tree,” Jungkook said. “Like an old decoration or something.”

“You’re breaking and stealing decorations?”

“No, it’s not a decoration. The wind caught it or something. Help me find the bells,” he insisted as he began patting around in the grass. The sizes varied from a dime to a walnut.

Namjoon helped and eventually Taehyung did too, but not without questions, “Why are you stealing bells from a tree?”

The string was a piece of ribbon, frayed by weather, so Jungkook thought his guess that it was an old forgotten decoration was right. Certainly nothing new. Some of the bells had rusted pieces too, or were dull and sticky, one even had bird shit on it from someone’s good aim.

“I’m not stealing– I know someone who can use them.”

“What are you talking about?” Taehyung laughed. “This is the most mysterious you’ve ever been.”

“Ok. There’s a girl at work who makes art to sell with shiny things. I’m going to give her these bells for her art stuff.”

“What girl?” Taehyung immediately demanded.

Namjoon froze, three bells in his large hand, and parroted, “Yeah, what girl? You haven’t mentioned a girl. Someone you’re dating?”

“No!” Jungkook squawked. “We aren’t dating. She’s… weird. Basically a kleptomaniac. She’s the one who found my egg when I lost it. I think she actually stole it but I don’t know when or how… but she gave it back.”

Namjoon handed him the bells but looked suspicious as he pointed out, “You didn’t say a girl found your egg, just that someone at work did.”

“Yeah? So? She’s a female. Want to know her hair color and eye color too?”

“Yeah. Paint a picture for me. Is she pretty?” Taehyung grinned. He had two bells to hand over.

Jungkook thought they were all found and stood, patting his pocket where the bells clicked dully against his egg, muted in the cloth of his jacket.

“She’s pretty, sure. But I wouldn’t introduce either of you to her. Like I said, she’s weird.”

“Right. She’s weird,” Namjoon repeated, nudging Taehyung. “Jungkook’s the one climbing trees at a party to collect bells for her, but she’s weird.”

“He wants a normal penguin girl. Boring, bland, safe, beige,” Taehyung returned.

“Guys…”

“I want to meet her,” Taehyung said.

And Jungkook wasn’t sure why, but his answer was, “No. Let’s go back to the party.”

“So eager suddenly?”

“I’m supposed to be wingman yeah? So let me wing. What do you want me to do, tell a girl you think she’s cute?” he asked Namjoon. “Just go talk to a woman if you think she’s nice and if she’s scared of you, she’s specist and not worth your time anyway. Anyone who looks at you for more than a minute can see you’re a gentle giant and eagles are clowns.”

Taheyung’s sputter of laughter led the way back to the noise and lights of the party, “Fuck, you’re all pissy aobut us teasing you, huh?”

Jungkook smiled about it, and about the way Namjoon laughed behind his hand, “He said I’m non-threatening. Penguins are predators too. We aren’t beige.”

“Penguins are the embodiment of beige as people,” Namjoon said, clapping his hand to Jungkook’s shoulder. “But you aren’t and that’s why you can’t find a penguin girl.”

“Open your eyes,” Taehyung agreed, gesturing through the open patio door. “The party is full of gorgeous birds. We could all catch something tonight!”

Jungkook and Namjoon both hesitated as Taehyung disappeared head first into the crowd, already in pursuit.

“That was a bird pun, right?” Jungkook asked. “Or did he mean STDs?”

Namjoon laughed and countered, “Bundle it up and you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Uh… hyung, that’s not right. It reduces your risk, it doesn’t eliminate the risk–”

“Sorry, I’m a dentist, focused on the other part of the body,” Namjoon said over his shoulder, walking forward, leaving Jungkook standing alone on the stairs.

“You still use your mouth during sex!” Jungkook called after him. Overly loud. Fuck. Several people looked over. Jungkook’s face burned with heat as he hurried after Namjoon and Taehyung, not wanting to be left behind. The bells bulged in his pocket, so at least even if he didn’t find someone to enjoy tonight, it wouldn’t have been a total loss.

Jungkook had not gone home with anyone. But Taehyung and Namjoon both had, and Jungkook had gone home alone to fall asleep to the sounds of Yoongi practicing his keyboard on the other side of the wall, which wasn’t a bad end to the night. He waited until the music paused for Yoongi to go make food and then pulled his laptop out for a wank session but… eh, his heart wasn’t in it, so he wound up just going to bed without bothering.

He had to wait until Monday to do anything with the bells. Bored on a Sunday, he played video games and went to the gym and then googled how to clean the rust from the bells so they’d be their most shiny. He’d feel stupid to give her a bell covered in bird shit. So he got them clean and was pleased with the way they looked. Some were kind of dented but whatever, she could fix it if she cared so much. She made things out of trash so it would be her own shitty problem if she snubbed these things he was giving her for free! And after he’d cleaned them! He even practiced what to say if she was shitty about it.

“Gross why did you give me literal garbage, you’re weird, what’s wrong with you?”

And he’d say, “Takes trash to know trash.”

No wait that was hella stupid and childish.

“I thought you were an artist. You can’t see the potential?” Ugh, pretentious and weird.

“Fine, then throw them away, the trash can’s right there.” Better. Lofty. Confident. Yeah, that would work.

But Monday morning when he saw her curly hair streaming out of a red beanie, he got a better idea. Rather than calling for her or marching up and handing the bag over –which made it seem like a weird big deal gift thing when really it was just trash he thought she might use for her art– he balled as many of the bells into his hand as he could and snuck up behind her. He bumped lightly into her, as did other people, as they crowded through the door, and used that as an opportunity to slide his hand into her coat pocket to deposit the bells there.

He did not anticipate her hand sliding in too and taking hold of his, trapping him there. Instinctively he tried to pull away as she spun to face him, right in the middle of the stream of people.

Instantly her face brightened and she laughed, “What are you doing with your hand in my pocket?”

“You knew it was me?”

“No. Are you trying to pickpocket me?”

“The opposite.”

“Huh?”

He’d successfully dropped a handful of the bells. He still had more. Now he grabbed a few more from his pocket, thrust those into her pocket before she could say anything else, and fled. Fuck. That wasn’t as cool as he had hoped. Ok fine he wasn’t a sneaky stealthy pickpocket but he’d thought she wouldn’t notice because everyone always bumped into each other so much at that point! Fuck! Also it was weird to hold hands with someone you thought was pickpocketing you, right?

He avoided the downstairs lobby at lunch in case he saw her again; he’d realized last week they went to lunch around the same time. Instead he ate crap from the vending machines and stayed at his desk. He still had a couple bells in his pocket and decided he’d just scatter them on the sidewalk when he left and she could find them herself, if she was so fucking good at finding things.

At the end of the day, he didn’t see her on the way out, which was good. Fine. What a relief. Instead he buried his nose in the dating app as he waited for the bus, determined to hurt himself again apparently. No new matches on the classy app so he looked at the skeevy app instead. A couple matches he couldn’t be arsed to think of a clever response to. He had never seen it happen that a girl who messaged him first on Dive was happy with what she found once she met him. And, to be fair, he usually wasn’t too thrilled with them either, but he was trying to be open-minded, like Taehyung said. He didn’t have to be with a penguin woman for a good time, and there was nothing wrong with having good times until he found his penguin mate. He decided to dedicate some time tonight to do that dumb thing again where he dug around profiles and thought out meaningful first messages he could send to women he found compelling so that he could just have them leave him on read or respond with something shallow and stupid. Fuck, why did he even bother? He should just stay single for life. A lone penguin. Whatever.

Grouchy now, he decided to skip the bus and go to the cafe instead. A coffee drink this late would keep him up but whatever, he’d play games. So what if he was sleepy tomorrow? There was no point to life.

He reached into his pocket to grip his blue egg while he walked, annoyed and wanting the tactile comfort. It took him a couple minutes to realize there should have still been bells in his pocket with the egg; he’d forgotten to scatter them. And that something was scratching his skin.

He moved to the side of the sidewalk at the cafe and fished out the scratchy thing, a small rolled up piece of paper he’d subconsciously thought was a receipt, even though he never put trash in the right-hand pocket with his egg.

Thanks for the bells I love them. You’re too noisy to be a pickpocket. Let me know if you want tips - Rana nana nana nana batman

“What the fuck, she’s so weird,” he laughed and forgot about the coffee and just walked home. He liked the crisp smell to the air when it was freshly dark in winter like this.

***

A few days later, he decided on another experiment.

He’d been out grocery shopping with Yoongi when they’d walked by boxes on the sidewalk with a big FREE sign. In one of the boxes were several tiny glittery gold wire Christmas trees, roughly about the size of his egg. He’d crammed them into the grocery bags to take home.

Yoongi had needed to intervene again when Jay got all pissy because there was glitter all over the boxes of soy milk –that weren’t even for him, to be clear! But the glitter was insidious. Specks of it were everywhere, even on his blue egg, and trying to wipe them away just resulted in more glitter coming from somewhere. No wonder someone had been throwing these away. They were a gift for someone you hated.

Or for Rana. But she’d definitely catch him glitter-handed if he tried to slip them into her pocket again. So instead he got to work earlier than she did and lined all four of them up in one of the flower beds outside the building, to see if she’d even noticed them and, assuming she did, if she’d be able to resist stealing them.

He got his answer at lunch. He sat on one of the long concrete planters everyone used as benches when the dozen bistro tables were full. The spiciness of the tteokbokki he’d decided to reward himself with for actually getting noticed and praised for his latest feature addition to the internal database (simple but revolutionary filtering tabs) by his tech-illiterate boss.

Rana sat beside him before he’d even noticed her approach and simply held her hand out, palm up. Covered in glitter.

“Let me see your hand.”

“Why?”

“Let me see your hand, Jungkook.”

He sighed but held out his hand, palm up, revealing less glitter, but he hadn’t managed to scrub it all away no matter how hard he’d tried.

That loud laugh came out of her again, so loud that several quiet lunch-goes looked over curiously.

“They’re amazing,” she said. “Where did you find them?”

“In someone’s trash. I mean… there was a free sign…”

“I can understand why! That glitter is pernicious. I love it.”

“Pernicious,” he repeated.

“Yeah? Do you know what it means?”

“Of course I know what it means,” he glared. “Subtly harmful.”

“You’re so much more than a pretty face. Well I don’t care if you gave me a ‘subtly harmful’ gift–”

“It’s not a gift,” he quickly corrected. “It’s for your art. Um, it’s payment for the strand you gave me. You have to give me more though. I can’t just hang up one string of trash in my window.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, “Yeah yeah you need multiple strings of trash. Like the trash you were digging through to get me this. Like a busy little raccoon– or… a pigeon?”

“Magpies dig through trash too,” he pointed out, knowing it would ruffle her feathers.

“I’m not a magpie.” But she didn’t react badly, just took a spare toothpick and picked out a rice cake from his lunch to eat.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, can’t help rifling through the trash, since I’m a magpie.”

“You can’t steal my lunch. I gave you gifts–”

“I am brazenly stealing your lunch,” she laughed. “Right in front of you. What are you going to do about it? Damn, that’s spicy! No wonder your nose is all runny! Shit!”

“It’s not runny,” he grumbled, but it was, and he was fighting the urge to wipe it on his sleeve with her right there. No, fuck, he decided he didn’t care. He dabbed at his eyes and wiped his snuffly nose. He’d put extra sauce on because he loved the heat but damn.

“Besides, I bought you hot chocolate,” she said, mouth hanging open as she tried to breathe through the spice.

“Your date bought me hot chocolate,” he argued.

“Your date didn’t buy me anything so… rude.”

He sighed and thrust the container at her, “Fine, hold this. I’ll get another one.”

“No, we can share this, get something else to compliment it!”

“Fine!” he called over his shoulder and went to see what he could bring back.

***

When he got home that night, he found another string in his pocket. It didn’t include any of the bells or trees he’d given her, but it matched the first string nicely, with the addition of little glass fish in swirly purple colors, not too different from the glass swirl of his egg. He taped it to the top of the windowsill next to the other one. She needed to give him one of those fucking sticks to tie them too. Well, probably he could go find his own stick this weekend but he’d paid for her lunch, she could at least give him a stick. She’d offered to pay him back for food but then he’d been so amused listening to her answer that yes, she did like Batman a lot, specifically the older cartoon, and some of the movies but not all of them, and the comics were great –she knew way more about Batman than he did and he was embarrassed to admit it to her because he’d talked big game about it.

There was still glitter on his egg when he set it in its box and nudged the laptop into place to see who he could find. He hadn’t sent any cam girls gifts lately. Honestly, he felt like his sex drive had been low. Even when he’d been out with Namjoon and Taehyung, he hadn’t really felt eager.

It was the Holiday stress. He was sure of it. Not the upcoming Christmas holiday, he didn’t care about that, but the mating season holiday in the spring. He’d had to RSVP last night for the festivities. He’d put down two. It was expensive and optimistic. He was coming up on a late time to meet someone who would be serious enough with him by the spring to take home for the Holiday. You didn’t have to get knocked up there or anything, but it wasn’t something you could just take anyone to. It had to be real and serious. He’d already thought through the alternatives but every possibility led to exposure of fraud, shame, humiliation, and a confirmation of what everyone who grew up with him thought: Jungkook was Unwanted.

It didn’t set him up well for getting horny. He clicked through a couple live cams but nothing hooked him. He went back to an old favorite video instead, but even that didn’t do much for him. Was he so broken he couldn’t even jack off anymore?

He decided to go to the gym instead.

***

“I don’t know the kind of thing she likes,” Yoongi mumbled as he and Jungkook reached the small shop block. “I don’t think socks is the right gift for a girl…”

Jungkook actually laughed, “No, hyung, don’t buy a girl socks until you’ve seen her naked in your bed.”

“Oh, is that the rule?”

“I made it up but it sounds like a good rule.”

“Yeah, it does… Oh, the wood carvings are cool,” he mused, stepping quickly past Jungkook. Honestly, Jungkook was flattered that Yoongi had come to him about needing to figure out a Christmas gift for the owl girl in his orchestra. He refused to tell any of them her name, insisting one of them would do something shitty like reach out on his behalf. They wouldn’t, just because they teased him mercilessly. This was not the same owl girl as the one who did mail delivery and who Jungkook had noticed Yoongi couldn’t even look in the eye. The owl girl in his orchestra played the flute and was beautiful and had made no secret she was interested in Yoongi and he thought she was compelling too but hadn’t taken her up on anything yet… Because of the package delivery girl, Jungkook thought, but Yoongi wouldn’t confirm. He looked like he wanted to puke every time Jungkook hinted at it.

Now he decided to test his luck though and agreed, “The wood carvings are cool. There are lots of neat little things in this shop. Wanna go in and look? Maybe a wood carving is good for the flutie girl and–”

“Flautist.”

“That’s what you call a flute player? Huh. Anyway, chunk of wood for the flautist and maybe something like that for the package delivery–”

“Wait, why would I get a gift for the package delivery girl?” Yoongi demanded, face hardening. “I’m just trying to get something for the flute.”

“The girl who plays the flute.”

“Yeah.”

“Right because you agreed to go on a date with her for some reason on Christmas Day,” Jungkook repeated.

“Not ‘for some reason.’ For the reason that I like her. And she likes me. And she asked me. And I don’t celebrate Christmas, it’s just a day.”

“But not to her, so you’re getting a gift.”

Yoongi sighed and closed his eyes, “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“It’s ok if you do like her.”

“I do. You saw her at the symphony.”

“Yeah, she’s beautiful. We were six rows back and I could still see her big eyes,” Jungkook assured him.

Yoongi nodded, “See? That’s why I’m glad you’re here. Taehyung would have talked about her big something else…”

“Those were nice too.”

Yoongi laughed and passed him into the store, looking this way and that. Jungkook hadn’t been back to the shop since he was here with Rana but inside were lots of little spaces, shelves, or cubbies full of handcrafted goods. He took his time poking around too, even though he didn’t need to buy anything. He and the guys didn’t trade gifts for Christmas, so he had no one to buy anything for.

Gradually he nudged Yoongi back towards the front window, saying, “You should check out these cool light strings. I think girls really like that kind of thing, they’re really eye-catching. Maybe not for the flautist but–”

“Are you hawking my wares again?”

Jungkook stopped short as Yoongi bumped into him. It shouldn’t have budged him, but he was so surprised that it forced him a step forward at the impact, closer to where Rana was on a ladder in the window, hanging up some new light strings.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook demanded.

“Hawking my wares,” she repeated. “Why are you here?”

“Shopping.”

“My wares?”

“No, other stuff. Why buy it when you’re giving it to me for free?”

Yoongi’s loud cough behind him clued him in to what he’d said at the same time Rana laughed. Jungkook hadn’t meant the innuendo and rushed to lean casually against a shelf and look like he had meant it, in a cool way. The shelf shook; Yoongi grabbed it to hold steady.

“I need a stick,” Jungkook said to cover all of this.

Rana motioned to the park, “Lots of sticks in the world, buddy. I thought penguins were more egg people but…” The ladder was too short and she was on tiptoe to reach the top of the window. It wasn’t steady and Jungkook’s stomach flipped at her reach. Instead of retaliating to the teasing, he stepped forward to catch her if she fell. She noticed and smiled down at him. “Fine, you’re sweet, I’ll give you a stick. But you’ll have to keep moving the strings on it when you earn more or the balance will be off.”

“Earning? I’m not earning them.”

“Not with that attitude!”

“How many is a whole one? Some of these have four and some have six and that one has eight.”

“Your literacy is only matched by your counting skills.”

“I like this person a lot,” Yoongi said loudly. “I’m his friend Yoongi. Who are you? You seem to know each other.”

“Oh, she’s Rana.”

“I’m Rana,” she introduced at the same time Jungkook did. She hopped down from the ladder in a way that definitely could have resulted in her breaking her face on something but she landed steadily on her feet. “We don’t know each other well, I just work in the same building and steal his food sometimes.”

“Oh, you found his egg?”

“He told you about me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Jungkook rushed to clarify, “No, just that a girl at work found my egg. Not that we eat lunch together sometimes.”

“Yeah, he definitely didn’t mention that,” Yoongi said, not meeting Jungkook’s murderous stare. Instead Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, studying Rana as if he was thinking through something.

“She’s not a magpie,” Jungkook added, as Rana just crossed her arms and waited for Yoongi’s survey, like she was entirely unbothered by it. “Don’t say that, she’ll get all hissy and waddle off.”

“You call me hissy again and I’ll peck your eyes out, little penguin,” she glared.

“No, not a magpie,” Yoongi agreed. “Magpies are assholes.”

“See!” Rana cried, motioning.

“Something like it though. A raven…?”

“She won’t tell me. It’s some big mystery,” Jungkook complained. “I already guessed raven and crow and magpie.”

Yoongi shook his head, “I think it’s something owls get along with. Magpies and rooks are fuckers but… ah, it’s weird when you get that feeling, right?”

“What feeling?” Jungkook asked, eyes narrowing.

Rana’s face lit up, “Yeah, I know what you mean! I’m a jackdaw.”

“What?! You just told him?” Jungkook cried.

“Ah! Yeah, we nest together!’

“What?!”

Rana was laughing and nodded, “Yeah, that’s right. Jackdaws and owls get along. What kind of owl?”

“Barn owl,” Yoongi said, perfectly at ease. Rana was perfectly at ease. Jungkook did not like this. Not that there was anything romantic going on between him and Rana but – but if she and Yoongi were suddenly best friends, she’d probably be around his apartment, and he didn’t want that level of acquaintanceship with her. She was a work buddy. A sometimes lunch buddy. He left trash for her and sometimes she gave him strings of trash arranged in pretty ways. That was the limit.

“You’ve already got two women you’re trying to get along with,” Jungkook reminded him pointedly. “We’re shopping for gifts…?”

Rana and Yoongi both laughed. At him.

“You can be friends with a girl and not want to fuck her or marry her,” Rana informed him. “Unless you have something to confess to me?”

“Yeah, it’s your turn to buy lunch for me.”

“You make more money than I do but fine, I’ll bring lunch for us both on Monday. And I’ll give you,” she said to Yoongi, “a discount if you do decide to buy any of my light strings, but no pressure. I don’t know if owls like this kind of thing or not. And not all women like the same thing so…” She raised her eyebrows at Jungkook and went back to hang another light string.

“She’s got a point. You should have her look at your dating profiles and see what you could do better to get a–”

“Hyung,” he hissed. “Don’t bring that up…”

“Well it’s not romantic with her, right?” Yoongi smiled. Jungkook glared.

“Let’s finish shopping and go, it’s too hot in here, they need to turn the heat down. It’s not good for the environment.”

Yoongi did wind up buying one of the light strings. Jungkook didn’t think he bought it for the package delivery girl though, because Yoongi wouldn’t say, and also bought wooden carved animals for the flautist. Rana waved at them as they left.

“She’s cute,” Yoongi said once they were down the street. “I see why you haven’t mentioned her.”

“Huh?”

“Namjoon and Taehyung would like her. She seems funny.”

“She thinks she’s funny but she’s not. She’s very weird.”

“Well, you’re kind of weird too.” That stung, but Yoongi insisted, “Is that a bad thing? We’re all weird, that’s why we get along. An eagle, an owl, a penguin, and a hawk are friends in a world that tells us we’d get along better with our own kind.”

“Yeah but that’s stupid to think like that.”

“And yet you are only willing to date a penguin, even when there’s a perfectly good jackdaw back there.”

Jungkook shook his head, “That’s easy for you to say. Your family is already mixed and they’d accept whatever.”

“What’s so great about your family that you want to let them dictate your life–”

“Owls are loners. Penguins aren’t. It’s not the same.”

Yoongi didn’t answer that. They walked for a few minutes. Jungkook felt bad for snapping and he knew Yoongi meant well but he really didn’t get it. He didn’t think Yoongi knew what it was like to not belong, to never belong, to desperately want to belong.

“Well, you don’t have to date her then,” Yoongi said after a while. “But you could see if she’d do the egg thing with you.”

“What egg thing,” Jungkook mumbled as quietly as he could.

“I don’t know, whatever you keep wanting cam girls to do with the–”

“NO!” Jungkook yelled. Yoongi froze. He froze.

“It’s that bad?” Yoongi finally asked.

“No! What are you talking about? I don’t–”

“I figured you’re sending cam girls eggs like the one you have and wanting them to fuck themselves with it, right?”

Jungkook’s stomach plummeted out his asshole to the ground.

“No,” he insisted. “No that is not– why do you–” He grabbed his egg in his pocket, as if to protect it from this accusation, and insisted, “That is not what I’m doing. Why do you think that?”

Yoongi shrugged, “Sound goes both ways through a wall, you know. I can’t usually hear much but– and no judgment, it’s your thing, I sure as fuck don’t care.”

“It’s just those vibrating sex eggs. That’s it,” Jungkook insisted. “It’s not a weird thing.”

“Ok well then see if she’s game for it. You’re clearly attracted to her. Your ears went all red and you were doing that shuffling thing.”

“What shuffling thing?”

“You know, like this,” Yoongi said, standing still but swaying quickly from side to side. “You always do that around pretty women.”

“No I don’t.”

Yoongi sighed, “Look, you know I hide from the pretty owl who delivers the mail, and I know you shuffle around pretty women and watch cam girls.”

“Hyung…”

“Don’t be embarrassed, we all watch porn. Why do you think I bought you those nice headphones for your birthday?”

“Excuse me while I go walk into traffic–”

Yoongi laughed and patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. But I mean, if you already know she’s attractive, you aren’t going to date her, and it’s not meaningful… why not see if she’s down to fuck? If you’re getting laid, it might help with your confidence when you have a real date.”

Jungkook regretted a little now telling Yoongi about his several recent failures. He hadn’t wanted to admit those to Taehyung or Namjoon. He thought Yoongi would be more supportive and discrete, and he’d been right… until now.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, eager to change the subject. “And you should think about giving that light string gift to the package delivery owl, I think she’d like it a lot. And ask her out.”

“I’ll think about it,” Yoongi sighed. “Ok, let’s go back to not giving each other advice now and get some coffee and noodles.”

“Yeah that’s better, let’s do that.”

Previous | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#hybrid jungkook #hybrid bts #penguin koo #jungkook #jungkook x oc #jk x oc #jeon jungkook x oc #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts smut #jeon jungkook ff #jungkooksmut #jeon jungkook x reader

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nameless-network · 5 months

Note

What kind of Pikmin do you think each of the QSMP members would be?

oh ho ho ho ho

sorry for taking a bit to respond i put way too much thought into this

this is all based on their characters;

Red - Fit (2B2T lore and all) - Roier (was debating between putting him here on in rocks but this feels right) - Felps - Luzu - Ironmouse - Rivers

Yellow - Forever - Mariana (Cubito is a god but isn't confirmed to be able to fly (Yellows can be thrown higher than other pikmin + it feels right)) - Tubbo (Create mod is the closest thing there is to electricity so) - AyPierre (Same as above) - Wilbur

Blue - Foolish (Shark hybrid) - Baghera (Duck hybrid) - Quackity (Feels cruel but because of the pool he keeps getting sent into. He's survived in there for long enough to get water breathing I think.) - Kameto - Pol - Tina

Purple - Maximus (dude brought a whole nuke to purgatory . how did he do that. did he carry it himself. he can be purple for that. alternatively i was gonna put him in yellow because they were the only ones who could hold bomb rocks in pikmin 1 but i didnt have any purples so) - Vegetta

White - Cellbit (whites have X-Ray vision and are used to find treasures other pikmin can't + immune to gas bolasbolasbolas) - Missa? (my only reasoning is like . skeleton. whites are the closest weve got to a death based pikmin since they do damage when eaten so)

Rock - Etoiles (Does lots of damage + hard to kill (rocks can't be crushed)) - Spreen

Winged - Philza (Kinda cop-out choice for the bird hybrids but. yeah) - Jaiden - Carre? (im not really sure where to put carre actually. winged because his skin has wings and i like to draw him with them. alternatively could be purple with how he carried bolas early days /j) - Niki ? (no real reason for this just feels right)

Glow - Slimecicle (Strange little green guy + Immune to poison (was a hard pick between glow and white because again poison-toxins-code infection seem related in my head) - BadBoyHalo (It's the radiation poisoning /j) - Mike (feels right) - Arin (Computers/AI glowy aesthetic) - Bagi (at first i was gonna put her in white as well because mystery twins and all but glow feels more right to me)

Ice - DanTDM maybe? (ive got no basis for this other than ice kinda looks like diamond and i had no other characters for ice. hes ice bc his character got iced after 2 days logging on /j) - Willyrex (bc of the ice prison) - German (as above) - Lenay (as above)

Bulbmin - Logically I think all the eggs would be Bulbmin actually - You get Bulbmin by killing an adult with dwarfs following them and thats kinda like how the Federation claims the eggs came about (the dragon mother getting scared off by the wall exploding and leaving them behind) - Other than that it feels right that q!Antoine would be a bulbmin. i dont know why it just feels right

Shroomin - Happy Pills Arc Forever + Pac (Applies to @v@!Forever too) (Toxins/being mind controlled)

#asks yippee

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ghoulsister1 · 9 months

Text

Lilac Skies

Dracula (2006) X Reader. Modern AU Dracula. Fluffy fluff. Comfort. Cuddling. Reader has her period and needs comfort from her vampire boyfriend. Chocolates. Snuggles. Soft Dracula. ModernEra!Dracula. TW: Blood.

Dracula's POV:

The sun was just slowly creeping up in the horizon, the sky a lilac shade with orange and ice blue as some birds began their dawn chorus. I blinked a few times and it was then, as I inhaled I smelt it. That familiar metallic, often coppery smell, but to me it was sweet and intoxicating. The scent of blood was in the air and this time it just sweet, no it was almost ambrosial like a creamy dessert.

My eyes darkened, growling softly and I turned over to look at Y/N. She was still sleeping but I seen her face twist a bit, like she was in pain or some discomfort. As she did, I noticed the smell of blood coming from her and it was stronger.

Y/N was bleeding! Suddenly, I was more alert now and shaking the hunger from my thoughts I sat up, looking over her. I shook her gently, calling her name softly as I tried to rouse her from her sleep.

End Of POV.

You awoke to the sounds of someone calling your name softly and gently shaking you from your sleep.

"Y/N? Y/N. Y/N, Y/N wake up please" The voice of your vampire boyfriend called softly. You mumble a weak "what?" and try to turn over but what your boyfriend says stops you.

"You're bleeding Y/N" Spoke Dracula, concern in his voice. Your eyes shot open and it's then you registered the dull pain in your abdomen and you let out a sharp hiss at that. Dracula gently turned you back over to him and he looked you over.

"Y/N, please tell me where are you hurt?" Asked Dracula. You looked up at his concerned face and gave a soft small smile despite the pain.

"It's my time of the month" You Replied and Dracula seemed to register what was really happening. You were menstruating. Dracula was relieved that you weren't mortally wounded, but still saw you were in obvious discomfort.

"You are in pain though my dear" Said Dracula softly.

"Just tell me how I may help with easing the pain and making you feel more comfortable" Continued Dracula as he helped you sit up in bed. You rubbed your eyes and yawned.

"What time is it?" You Asked.

"It's very early my dear, the sun is only just rising" Dracula Replied as he rubbed your back. You yawned and gave a small stretch before the dull pain began to grow and hurt a little more. You groaned at that.

"Why don't you take a nice hot bath? Or perhaps a shower? I'll freshen up the bed and bedroom for you" Suggested Dracula. You tried to protest at just getting a pad/tampon but Dracula shook his head.

"No. The shower will at least help relax you and the heat will hopefully help with the pain, my sweet. I'll get out some fresh pyjamas and put them in the dryer for a bit so they're nice and warm when you get out and put them on" Reassured Dracula. You smiled at him and made your way to the bathroom. You decided on a bath, you had a feeling this monthly will be a major b*tch and you wanted to just lay back in the hot water for a good relaxing soak. You turned on the taps and was reaching for your body wash when Dracula appeared.

"Need some help?" He Asked, smiling softly. You smiled.

"Decided on a bath. I have a feeling this monthly won't be easy" You Said. Dracula nodded at that, understandably. You see him reach for your bath bombs and favourite scented lotion, along with a few of your Wiccan crystals. You watched as he placed the crystals around the edges of the tub before picking out a bath bomb and throwing it into the water.

You both watched as the water bubbled and turned a beautiful, pastel colour and the room filled with the smell of your favourite scent. Dracula helped you undress and you sank into the scented waters of the tub. You let out a contented sigh and turned to Dracula, smiling happily.

"Take your time and relax, my love. If you need anything just shout okay?" Dracula smiled.

"I will sweetie" You promised and with a kiss to your hand, Dracula got up and walked back into the bedroom to freshen it up.

He was changing the sheets and he saw a stain on the sheets. Though the sight of blood was tempting, he growled and shook his head. Now was not the time, his beloved was hurting and she needed him. He changed the sheets and duvet, before grabbing a pair of soft, clean pyjamas for Y/N and putting them in the dryer for a bit to warm them up. Dracula lit two scented candles and when the dryer was done, got the pjs and placed them on the bed. He also got out your glow-in-the-dark Hello Kitty pillow and Barnet the Orange Bat Squishmallow.

You came out of your bath, smelling of coconut and your favourite bath bomb scent and wrapped in a large fluffy towel. Your eyes widened as you took in the room.

Your duvet was changed to your new Hello Kitty glow-in-the-dark duvet cover and pillows, sheets changed and your favourite scented candles lit.

You smiled when you saw your squishmallow and glow-in-the-dark Hello Kitty pillow on the bed. You got the pjs and felt how soft and warm they were.

"Did you have a lovely bath, my dear?" Asked Dracula.

"Yes I did, thank you and thank you again for what you've done with the bedroom, it means a lot Dracula" You Smiled. Dracula chuckled softly.

"Anything to help my darling feel more comfortable" Said Dracula as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You changed and put on a fresh pad/tampon.

You felt much better now that you were clean and in fresh pyjamas and bedsheets. You climbed into bed as Dracula took a wash himself, reappearing and dressing in a black hoodie with Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Night" print on the back. It was a hoodie you gave him last month after going to a Van Gogh Art Exhibition. It was your 5th date and you two enjoyed yourselves.

Dracula joined you in bed and he opened his arms out, inviting you to a cuddle. You happily took the invitation and cuddled up with him. He embraced you warmly and held you there as he switched on the TV.

"What do you want to watch?" Inquired Dracula as he held you close. You looked up at him and smiled.

"We still have to finish that Penny Dreadful season 2" You Recalled, remembering where you two last left off in the series. Dracula nodded and you two lay cuddled up together, wrapped in his arms as you cuddled Barnet. He sometimes ran his fingers through your hair as you both continued watching the show.

"Helen McCrory is a fine actress in this show, she plays her character perfectly" Remarked Dracula. You gave a hum of approval at that, smiling. You rested your head on his chest, basking in this perfect bliss with Dracula.

Halfway through the show and it was fully morning. Dracula paused the show, causing you to frown.

"Hey, it was getting really good!" You Whined. Dracula let out a small laugh at your protest.

"It's fully morning and breakfast is now a must" Reasoned Dracula. You pouted at him but your stomach gave you away with a growl and Dracula gave a small snigger at that.

"Seems you agree with me on breakfast" Chuckled Dracula sending you a smirk. You gave a giggle at that and grinned.

Breakfast came and went, soon you two rejoined in the bed and continued watching Penny Dreadful Season 2. Suddenly the cramps returned with a vengeance and you groaned, curling yourself into a ball as pain hammered your insides. Dracula paused the show and turned to you, worry on his face.

"The cramps are back, owww! It's really bad this time.....it hurts" You Cried. The pain was making you feel sick and your eyes welled up with tears.

"Tell me what to do, how can I help you?" Asked Dracula.

"Usually a hot bottle helps.....and some painkillers" You Whimpered tearfully, clutching Barnet more tightly.

"I'll be right back" Dracula Promised before going downstairs. He wasn't gone too long and soon he returned with some painkillers and a hot water bottle in the shape of your favourite cartoon character.

"Here. I'll get you some juice to wash the painkillers down with" Said Dracula making his way out the bedroom door.

"Orange juice" You Cried out. You heard Dracula reply with a "Got it!" and you waited for Dracula to return. You didn't have to wait long as he came back upstairs with a glass of orange juice in hand. You gave a smile despite the pain eating at you.

"Here you go" Said Dracula softly handing you the glass of orange juice. You thanked him, took the painkillers and swallowed it with the juice.

Dracula climbed into bed and pressed the hot water bottle gently to your abdomen. You let out a pained groan before sighing as the warmth spread through you, slowly melting away the pain. You lie back as Dracula resumed holding you close, lying your head against his chest as he resumed the show.

"Thank you Drac" You Murmured softly as you began to feel a little sleepy. You felt Dracula press a kiss to your head.

"You're welcome my dear. If you feel sleepy, just close your eyes and take your rest" Dracula Suggested. You nuzzled your face into his chest with a whine.

"What if I miss the show?" You Asked, fighting to stay awake. Dracula chuckled softly and you felt him lean his lips to your ear.

"You won't. Let's save the rest for another day my love. Now, just relax and sleep a while. I promise to wake you if you need me to" Whispered Dracula. You smiled at his words and soon began to feel more sleepy.

"Just wake me up for lunch or dinner" You Mumbled sleepily. Dracula promised he would and you closed your eyes and fell into a deep sleep. While you slept, Dracula occupied himself with some random TV channels, watching bits of the news mixed with Jamie Oliver cooking shows and sometimes flickering to watch The Great British Bake Off.

Whilst watching the cooking shows, Dracula did gain an idea on what to make him and you for dinner though.

He opened up his phone, made a few purchases and soon ingredients arrived at the door in shopping bags from your local store. Dracula stored them away for dinner and returned to the bedroom, where he took a nap himself and energised.

You awoke to Dracula softly caressing your face. You awoke and smiled at him. You gave a stretch, feeling much better but hungry.

"What time is it?" You Yawned.

"Time to make us some dinner" Replied Dracula getting up from bed, yawning and showing off his fangs as he stretched.

"Perfect, I'm starving" You Declared, making Dracula let out a laugh.

"Then you'll love what I'm making us tonight" Teased Dracula watching you as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oooh, I can't wait" You Replied and Dracula smirked at that. So Dracula made his way downstairs to begin dinner. You freshened up a bit and awaited.

Sometime soon you could smell something delicious.

"It's definitely a pasta dish, I know that smell anywhere" You Thought, relishing in the aromatic smell of herbs and sauce together. Your mouth watered, wondering what delicious pasta dish Dracula was whipping up.

A while later and Dracula emerged from downstairs, carrying two plates of delicious, home cooked lasagne.

"Drac, you made us lasagne! You're really the best boyfriend you know that!" You Cheered happily. Dracula blushed a bit at that and gave you a warm smile.

"Got an idea from watching those cooking programs while you were sleeping. I thought why not, Italian dishes being your favourite" Explained Dracula as he handed you your plate and fork.

"Stay here, got some drink downstairs" Said Dracula who went and retrieved two glasses of cranberry juice. You two ate in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting how great the food is.

"Oh, did you get a feed yet? Apart from the food I mean?" You Asked, knowing that you bleeding right now next to your vampire boyfriend was probably driving him crazy with hunger. It couldn't be easy, smelling all that blood and yet denying yourself to feed.

"I will feed soon my love" Dracula Replied smiling. You frowned a bit.

"But you must be hungry. I know it's not easy, being a vampire and smelling me practically bleed all over the place Drac. If you want, you can....." But Dracula stopped you.

"You are bleeding a lot already and in some way or form losing it too. I'll only be taking more and you'll be left feeling more weak than normal after feeding" Explained Dracula.

"But Drac....." You Began.

"I appreciate you looking out for me my dear but right now, I want to take care of you. I'll feed soon tonight, I promise" Vowed Dracula and smiled. You nodded and smiled at that and the two of you continued to eat.

Later on in the night, Dracula went out to feed. He was gone a long while. You cuddled Barnet close to you as you anxiously waited for him.

Dracula did return. He was still licking the blood from his lips and fangs as he made his way upstairs to you. You smiled upon seeing him safe and not hurt.

"Sorry if I was gone a little too long" Apologised Dracula.

"It's alright Drac, did you feed enough?" You Asked.

"Two tonight. My belly is full for tonight" Dracula Replied licking the last remnants of blood from his fangs and changing into some comfortable night wear, giving his mouth a good rinse of mouthwash. He climbed into bed and cuddled beside you.

"Picked up a treat for us on the way home" Said Dracula pulling out a full Cadbury chocolate bar for you and him to share. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek.

"Best vampire boyfriend ever Drac" You Grinned.

Dracula chuckled and returned the gesture with a kiss to your lips which you happily returned.

The two of you spent the night, nibbling on chocolate and watching some Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares episodes, snuggled up in the arms of your loving vampire boyfriend.

#marc warren #marc warren characters #count dracula #dracula #dracula 2006 #fluff #period pain #vampire #vampires #dracula x reader #fanfiction #soft vampire #squishmallows

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pathfinderunlocked · 9 months

Text

Vulcadaemon - CR17 Daemon

Burn, miserable little worms!

Artwork by Daniele Mendes on ArtStation.

Daemons in my setting are each associated with a negative emotion that they both create and feed upon. The vulcadaemon is a fiend of arrogance, feeding on those who believe themselves superior to others, and influencing the emotions of those it interacts with to make them look down on lesser beings.

A vulcadaemon's high intelligence is a major source of its sense of superiority, and it studies alchemy and uses it in combat. Vulcadaemons continuously study to find alchemical ways to increase their power and perfect their bodies, and make deals with arrogant mortals who wish to share their knowledge to gain immortality. Rather than taking a mortal's soul in exchange, a vulcadaemon is more likely to ask for a mortal's offspring, infusing the child with magic at a young age or siring a child with the mortal, and taking them as slaves when they reach a useful age. Vulcadaemons have been known to use their magic jar spell to take over a mortal's body in order to sire or bear a child as part of a deal, resulting in a tiefling child with the Pass For Human trait.

Its bombs function like alchemists' bombs but are made from its own fiery feathers, which it plucks from its body, turns into explosive projectiles, and launches at its opponents. Picture Gambit from the X-Men but with feathers instead of playing cards.

This is a multi-phase boss fight. A vulcadaemon starts as a land-based medium creature and can transform into a colossal aerial form, but doing so exacts a significant toll on its body when the effect ends, and also lowers its DR, so it waits to do this until it's in danger and believes flying would be beneficial. I would recommend doing so when it reaches about 150 HP remaining, or when it's suffered some kind of serious debilitating condition.

Sorry for the gigantic text of the Extracts ability. This creature's extracts do actually work somewhat differently than an alchemist's extracts. Notably, it can use extracts of offensive spells, but the range is changed to the ground underneath its reach, instead of the spell's normal range.

It has two things it can do with its swift actions - poison a bomb, or cast wall of fire. Make sure to do one or the other each round.

Vulcadaemon - CR 17

The hunchbacked bird-person has skin that looks like magma. Where its eyes should be are instead pits of dripping liquid flame.

XP 102,400 NE Medium outsider (daemon, evil, extraplanar, fire) Init +11 Senses darkvision 60 ft., detect magic, detect poison, see invisibility; Perception +30

DEFENSE

AC 29, touch 19, flat-footed 20 (+8 Dex, +1 dodge, +10 natural) hp 262 (21d10+147); regeneration 10 (cold) Fort +18, Ref +20, Will +15 DR 15/good or ice Immune acid, death effects, fire, poison Resist electricity 10 Weaknesses vulnerable to cold SR 28

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft. Melee 2 talons +27 (1d6+5/19–20 plus 1d6 fire) Ranged bomb +29/+24/+19/+14 ranged touch (7d6+9 plus 16 splash) (DC 26 Reflex halves splash) (20 ft. range increment) (24/day) Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft. Special Attacks bombs, emerge into flame, smoke form, smoke talons

Spell-Like Abilities (CL 20th; concentration +26) Constant—detect magic, detect poison, read magic, see invisibility 1/day—summon (level 6, 1 fiendish greater fire elemental 100%)

Extracts Prepared (CL 20th) 1/day—fire storm (x4) (DC 27), magic jar (DC 24), true seeing, quickened wall of fire x3

STATISTICS

Str 21, Dex 26, Con 22, Int 29, Wis 22, Cha 23 Base Atk +21; CMB +27; CMD 45 Feats Blinding Critical (DC 31), Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus, Dodge, Flyby Attack, Improved Critical (talon), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mobility, Skill Focus (craft alchemy), Toughness Skills Acrobatics +29, Craft (alchemy) +53, Fly +32, Intimidate +30, Knowledge (arcana, history, local, nature, planes) +33, Knowledge (dungeoneering, engineering, religion) +30, Perception +30, Sense Motive +20, Spellcraft +30, Stealth +21; Racial Modifiers +14 Craft (alchemy) Languages Abyssal, Draconic, Common, Ignan, Infernal, 5 others; telepathy 100 ft. Gear formula book (fire storm, magic jar, true seeing, wall of fire), spell component pouch

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Bombs (Su) A vulcadaemon can throw bombs as a 14th level alchemist with the Fast Bombs discovery. These bombs are typically created from its feathers. It can use a number of bombs per day equal to 15 plus its Intelligence modifier (typically 24 bombs per day). A bomb counts as a thrown splash weapon, and throwing a bomb is a ranged touch attack with a 20 ft. range increment. Each bomb does 7d6 fire damage plus the vulcadaemon's Intelligence modifier (typically +9), increasing to 8d6 plus twice its Intelligence modifier on a critical hit (typically +18). A bomb deals splash damage to adjacent targets equal to the minimum damage of the bomb (typically 16 damage, or 26 damage on a critical hit). A DC 26 Reflex save halves the splash damage. The save DC is Intelligence-based.

A vulcadaemon can prepare and throw multiple bombs as a full-round action, which functions just like a full-attack with a ranged weapon.

Emerge Into Flame (Su) Once per day, a vulcadaemon can transform into a Colossal flying form made of liquid fire for 2 minutes. This does not require an action, and can be done even while helpless. When a vulcadaemon transforms into this form, it heals 80 hit points, and can remove harmful effects on itself as if it had successfully cast both cleanse and greater dispel magic (targeted dispel) at caster level 20, with a natural result of 20 on the d20 for the dispel check.

While in its emerged form, a vulcadaemon has a 30-ft. space and a 20-ft. reach. It gains a 120 ft. fly speed with good maneuverability (typically giving it a total bonus of +28 Fly) while in this form. It takes the standard -4 penalty to attack rolls and AC, and +4 bonus to CMB and CMD, along with the other typical effects of being Colossal-sized. Its damage reduction is reduced from 15 to 10.

After this effect ends, a vulcadaemon is sickened for 8 hours.

Extracts A vulcadaemon can use a number of extracts, which in many ways function similarly to spells in potion or oil form, and as such their effects can be dispelled by effects like dispel magic. It uses Intelligence as its spellcasting ability score with extracts. An extract immediately becomes inert if it leaves the vulcadaemon’s possession, reactivating as soon as it returns to the vulcadaemon's keeping. An extract, once created, remains potent for 1 day before becoming inert, so a vulcadaemon must re-prepare its extracts every day, which takes 1 minute per extract.

A vulcadaemon possesses a formula book, functioning like an alchemist's formula book, although note that several of its spells are not on the alchemist spell list and are therefore not learnable by alchemists.

A vulcadaemon can only prepare a limited number of extracts per day. Its typical extracts are listed in its statistics above, though when preparing extracts in the morning, it can choose to instead prepare any combination of 9 extracts that are in its formula book. Unlike an alchemist, a vulcadaemon's extracts are not tied to different spell levels - it can simply prepare any 9 extracts per day. This amount is based on its Intelligence modifier.

Unlike an alchemist's extracts, a vulcadaemon's extracts are "cast" by picking up an object (usually one of its feathers, which is treated as always being in hand, similar to a material component), infusing it with magic, and dissolving the object into a burning liquid. The liquid casts the spell upon touching a creature or the ground, so a vulcadaemon's spells can only target itself, a creature within its reach, or the ground underneath itself or underneath a space within its reach, instead of the normal range of the spell. A spell with an area of effect (such as fire storm or wall of fire) emanates out from the targeted ground to its normal area.

Using an extract has the same casting time as the spell, except for quickened wall of fire, which a vulcadaemon can use as a swift action.

Quickened Wall of Fire A vulcadaemon can prepare a wall of fire extract as if with the quickened spell metamagic, reducing its casting time to a swift action.

Smoke Form (Su) A vulcadaemon’s form is typically solid. As a free action it can change to a smoky form or back to solid form. It can switch forms once per round as a free action and can spend up to 20 rounds per day in smoke form. In smoke form, a vulcadaemon can fly at a speed of 50 feet (perfect). This ability is otherwise similar to a gaseous form spell (caster level 20th), except that the vulcadaemon can use its Smoke Talons ability while in this form.

Smoke Talons (Ex) A vulcadaemon using its smoke form ability can enter a target’s square as a standard action that does not provoke attacks of opportunity. The target must make a DC 26 Fortitude save or inhale part of the creature. Creatures that do not need to breathe are immune to this attack. The save DC is Constitution-based.

As a swift action while a target has inhaled this smoke, the vulcadaemon can cause the smoke inside the victim to solidify into a talon and attacks the target from within, automatically dealing 3d8 points of damage. If the target moves, the vulcadaemon may automatically move with the target; this movement does not count toward the vulcadaemon's movement, and does not provoke attacks of opportunity against or from the vulcadaemon. Each round, the target can attempt another DC 26 Fortitude save to cough out the vulcadaemon's smoke, which ends the smoke claws attack and forces the vulcadaemon into an adjacent square.

Swift Poisoning (Ex) A vulcadaemon can apply vulcadaemon poison to one of its bombs per round as a swift action, causing that bomb to poison a target struck with a direct hit. This poison becomes inert if the bomb is not thrown immediately. The poison is not applied to the splash damage.

Vulcadaemon Poison (Ex) Type poison (injury); Save Fortitude DC 21; Frequency 1/round for 6 rounds; Cure 2 consecutive saves; Effect 1d4 Con and 1d2 Dex

And I have a second image for phase 2 of this fight.

#d&d #pathfinder 1e #outsider #extraplanar #evil #daemon #fire

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megamangxtheadventure · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER 28: MEGAMAN GX VS OSAMA REBORN

it was in the youkai montuion witch the illuminati still controled wher babyface was the new governer of gensokyo hard after the defeet of shadiversty.

a soldier smiled showing a picture of his wife to another solder of the luminatir "isnt she hot" he said

babyface felt angry "did you say FUCKING PRONOJNS FUCKING PRONOJNDS!!!!" he screamed staking out a claw hammer as he hammered the man in the head over and over and over until it was just puddle of blood "MODERN DAY PRONOUNDS YOU FUCKING PRONONDS!!!" he raged at him and the other solders got quiet quicked.

Aryndin and bill ciper had comed "he is ready project phoenix has reviveredfed him" said bill

they opened a water tank and he was there REBORN SIGMA OSAMA BIN LADIN "He is a man of olden dayu values and will help us defeet the woke forever" said arydin with lies as sigma male theme tuned music played as the smoke comed out of water and bin lader walked out

osama put his cloths on "i will show our enemys how to do terrorism like we did back in 2000s and we will end freedom forever" osama smile and babyface bowed to him "you are my idol finally a based sigma chad that can desotyr FUCKING PRONONSSSS!!!!!!"

willaim afton watchged "soon our time will come" he smiled at his friends Malphas and gary miller

bin ladin took them to an air hangered where there was a 1000 airplanes "these where my plan before i was killed by obama you see i have stolened all these plains and swaped the engines WITH NUCLEAR BOMBS AND PLAN TO FLY THEM INTO EBVERY CITY AT ONCE" he laughed

Bill Cipher laugheretered "THATS RIGHT WE'RE DOING 9/11 2 BUT BIGGER AND T HIS TIME A NEW AGE OF TERROR WILL HADPLEN" he laughed.

bin ladin and baby face armed the planes as the typed on the computers "w eill open the stargates to send them to earthrealm soon" bin ladain said.

GENSOKYO SCARLET DEVIL MANSION

Megamangx was doing meditation to power up his mage super form and understand the elemtantal magics more "well if it isn;t shadow and my brother protoman" he said

"been a while brother not seen you since we hanged out at the linken statue way back" protoman x smugged. "i see you gotted an upgrade we could spar now" megaman gx did the handshake with him.

Suddanley luna child was outfit "THERE ARE 1000S OF MATEL BIRDS IN THE SKY WHAT HAS HAPPENED" she shout and the heros went outside seeing 1000s of airplains outside and a super stargate powering up.

"its bin lagin hes back i remember years ago me and doctor who tryed to kill him when he comed back as a cyborg and tryed to make everyone into osama clones but we stopped him and thought he died forever but it seems those illuminati bastards bringed him back again" megaman gx gasped.

They gott into shadows gyrozetter and powered up "we need to reach the planes and stop them before they get thought the stargate to hit every city on earth" megamangx shouted and they flyed "lets kick some ass" shadow the hedgehog said "ill show them how the ice age killed the dinosauers" cirno laughed and they flyed high.

Remilia turned her wings on and grabbed gungar her spear "i am not letting the boys hog all the fun lets go fight them sakuya" she smiled and flyed with her maid and marisa reimu junko yukari and mima went to join the fight "lets beat some bad guys" said mima.

ON TOP OF THE PLANE SNAD AIRSHITS

megamangx and his brother protomanx killed 1000s of illuminati soldiers and fighted forward "lets do this let us protect this world of magic and wizards" said megamangx as he went into his mage superform and used thungada to blow 10 of the planes up "THEY HAVE NUCLEARS BE CAREFUL" said protomanx

a familer voice was there IT WAS VALDMER PUTIN AND HE WAS A CYBORG AND HAD A GLOWING Z ON HIS CHEST FULL OF NUCLEAR POWER AND RED TERMINATOR EYES "i was the one who recruited all the right wingers and republicans into the illuminati becuse i wanted to show you the dark nature of these humans you want to save and make you pay for ruining my wedding to nepgear i am more powercul than ever now thanks to RUSSIAN SCIANCE!" putin said and punched megaman gx with hard and knocked the super form out of him.

Putin started to beat megamangx up "you think magic is your allie i was trained by rasputin molded by dark russian magic" and he broke megman gxs jaw as he caughed up robot blood.

megamangx got up and punched into him 100s of times at light speed but it just pinged off his armored robot cyborg body and did nothing damage

OST MUSIC= KINGDOM HEARTS 2 DARKNESS OF THE UNKNOWN

lots of lasers banged into megaman gx and protomanx and cirno fired ice at him but he beat them up and grab cirno by the neck as she was in pain "PEERHAPS THIS FAIRY WILL MAKE A GOOD NEW WIFE FOR ME WHERE NEPGEAR HAD FAILED HAHAHAHA" putin laughed but advent cirno slashed him with her blade and breaked free "no thanks" she smugged faced#

"WOMEN LIKE YOU MUS TKNOWN PLACE I WILL B EAT YOU INTO IT" said putin

megamangx heard the voice of Zenleski in his mind "you defeated him before you can do it easy this time he is washed up focus on the power of wizards of old" SAID ZENLESKI and megamangx finded hope and remembered the books of the magi and the power of gensokyo as he drawed on the worlds dreams

"THE DARKNESS OF HUMANITY IS WEAK TO THE GOOD OF HUMANITY WE CAN STOP TYRANYS AND POWER MAD PEOPLE IF WE FIGHT" megaman gx regained his mage form but beyond to mage form gold then with all the powers of the elements of ultima and holy and darkness and void HE UNLOCKED HIS DIAMOND WIZARD FORM and was glowing with crystal armor and god robes holding a rainbow book and a sword staff of rainbow crystals

"no YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME!" putin said

"JUDGEMENT OF HOLY YAMAS!" said megaman gx calling the yama down as A MILLIONS HOLY SWORDS STABBED PUTIN AND THEN THE HAMMER OF JUDGEMENT SMASHED HIM IN THE FACE "I call upon the light of peace" said megaman gx as he filled his hands with holy magic THEN PUNCHED PUTIN 10000S OF TIMES OVER AND OVER AND OVER SMASHING HIS ROBOT PARTS AND TERMINATOR EYES AS THE Z CORE SMASHED INTO SHARD AND THE RADATION POWER STARTED TO BOIL PUTINS FLESH BITS "i am in pain and scream" ahe cryed out as the radation and holy magic caused him to turn into dust and bones

"MOONLIGHT FINALE!" said megaman gx focuseding the staff as he blew putins bones up and sent his soul to the yama to be judged and putin was exiled to hell for his crimes by Eiki Shiki.

but at the other side of the plane OSAMA BIN LADIN WAS THERE CLAPPING "you defeated putin but soon i will end every city on the earth you love" bin ladin said as malpha was there and possessed osama BECOMING OSAMA MALPHAS BIN LADIN and used unholy tinity power to match megaman gx "i will show you true darkness of humanity the end is nere" HE SAID

but then a preist from earth jumped out of the stargate pointing a cross at osama malphas bin ladin "i am father john ward and i will not let you win" then father garcia was there too and fired 10 shotgun shells into osama "lets do this megamangx"

IT WAS TIME TO SAVE GENSOKYO

to be continued

#megamangx the adventure #megaman gx #fan fiction #fanfic #bill cipher #gensokyo #touhou #faith the unholy trinity #william afton #eiki shiki #osama #vladimir putin #cirno #babyface

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stephenstotchhh · 11 months

Text

Another angry birds ships

#angry birds #angry birds fanart #angry birds bomb #angry birds ice bird #angry birds bubbles #angry birds gale #angry birds poppy #angry birds dahila #bomb x bubbles #ice bird x gale #poppy x dahila #gay #lesbian #straight

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pastelgrungewrecker · 1 year

Text

Tears Ain’t Comin’

Brace yourself for all will pay Help is on the way

[x]

They took her in manacles, not cuffs. Blood still spattered on her prosthetics and her mouth snarling threats and hatred they took her away as her baby brother, her sunshine kid, was packed into an ambulance his father barely fit into.

Whirl held his son’s hand tight enough to bruise, whispering nothing but apologies as he stared a thousand yards away and tried to wipe away the blood and mess from a face that used to laugh with a little gap-toothed grin.

Quickdraw whimpered, the shock beginning to settle and adrenaline beginning to fade as the roar of the ambulance surrounded him- he could feel it, how fast it moved; but what he’d give to see the lights tracking his vitals.

“I-I c-can’t se-ee; I can’t, Papa I’m trying I can’t see I want M-Mimi! WHERE’S MIMI I NEED MIMI I CAN’T SEE, I CAN’T BREATHE? HELP ME, WHERE’S MIMI I WANT MY SISSA-”

“I know kiddo, she’s comin’ don’t worry-”, Whirl’s hands shook hard enough to rattle their screws and bolts as he cupped his son’s slashed face and tried to calm him from the panic rising over a young spine and shaking a skull into radio static, “She’s on her way she’s just a li’l bit late baby-bird. It’s okay, Papa’s here.”

The wail torn from his son as he strained against the belts holding him on the gurney broke the last dangling shards of Whirl’s heart like stained glass shrapnel in a bombed out church.

=============================================

Mimi sat in the back of the Enforcer shuttle, arms manacled too tight behind her back as she stared unbreakingly into a rearview mirror.

“I need to go the hospital.”, she said flatly, “My baby brother has been hurt. He needs me.”

“I think the fuck not, Mimosa.”, was Magnus snapped reply as his knuckles whited out from his grip on the steering controls, “You unloaded two illegal pistols into a crowd of TEENAGERS.”

“They gouged out my baby brother’s eyes. You are lucky I didn’t do worse. You remember what happened to Getaway, don’t you? When my family got ahold of him.”, she said, her voice never changing.

“You endangered my SONS-”

“YOU endangered your sons, Magsie-boo.”, she suddenly sneered, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten when THEIR words came out of YOUR FUCKING MOUTH. You traitorous bitch of a man.”

He turned his head slightly, “That is in the PAST-”

“It’s mine and my siblings FUTURE because you patsy the piece of shit who helped start it and you know it. What do you think will happen to your boys, now that everyone knows they’re friends with Quickdraw? Will you chain yourself up when they’re hurt for the sake of the law?”

Magnus fell silent.

“I’ll say it again. I need to go to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Then get fucked, Senate-pet.”

“MIMOSA DON’T YOU DARE-”

And the shatter of the window was loud, the crack of the hinges louder. The vehicle swerved and the door dropped loose as she rolled out. The ground was rough, hard like gravel and ice and burned the way blaster fire smelled on an almost forgotten ship.

And she got to her feet, shaking herself off as she heard the screech of a haphazard stop- and she ran.

The binds on her wrists jangled, but her lungs didn’t burn. Her mouth set in a grim line and she ran into the dark as magnus watched her go; his feet like lead as her words echoed and he wondered-

Who else had he betrayed before this?

Her running footsteps were so loud as she turned down familiar alleys and streets; the lights flickering as she passed them at an ever increasing pace. Towards her home, first-

‘I’m on my way, li’l guy.’, she thought to herself as she put on just a little more speed as she saw her backyard’s fence, ‘I just gotta get there, I’m on the way.’

“I promised I’d always be there, QD.”

[He was young, small and scared- He crouched down to hide his height as he passed by the messhall tables of the LL and felt the glare of old Wrecker’s with old bones to pick over and scuttled to her side.

His hand was small where it curled tight to hold onto her shirt first- then the leg of her sweatpants when she stood up. Blaster’s sneer was loud in the flourescent lights and Mimi’s fists were clenched.

“Little shit needs to learn to salute-”

“And big pieces of shit need to be flushed- get facefucked by an airlock stream buddyfucker.”, she snapped back as she gently shepherded her little brother behind her hip.

He slugged her that day- his defense was ‘she was a Wrecker born, she knows how ranks work’ when Rodimus stepped in with a grim frown and raised eyebrows.

Magnus looked away and Mimi swore she’d remember that.]

Her prosthetic feet slammed into the ground hard enough to leave little craterprints behind as she got over the fence and tore around to the garage. She wriggled her limbs- wincing at the pop in her left shoulder as it dislocated and she leaned back. One step, two step. The manacles in from of her and the shift in her bones that sent pain radiating until she got to the vice on the workbench. Chain in the teeth and she leaned to bite down on the rag tied to a handle and she set to work. Slow turns and hard tugs that made tendons scream until the manacle link gave way and her arms went to her sides and she exhaled a swear. She reset her shoulder as she walked to the backdoor keyrack and snatched the keys to a vehicle- studying them for a moment before jogging to what was unfortunately Ratchet’s pride and joy.

“I do his laundry, it’s a fair trade.”, she growled as she got in and settled.

The rumble of an engine firing to life, and the creak of the autodoor folding open.

===========================================

Quickdraw howled again in pain- the doctors sharing terrified looks as they shook their heads.

“We can’t give him any more- we don’t know why it won’t take he should be UNCONSCIOUS from this much-”

Brainstorm bared teeth made of violence and mistreatment as calloused fingers wound into a surgeon’s shirt and the scientists shook him until perfect white teeth clicked like falling stones, “I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING CALL RATCHET, I FUCKING TOLD YOU AND NOW MY BABY IS SUFFERING WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING INCOMPETENT CALL MY HUSBAND RATCHET OR I SWEAR TO YOUR GOD I’LL SEND YOUR PARTS TO A SOLDIER-FACTORY FOR REUSE-”

Whirl sat, in shock, watching his son sob like he was dying and blinking empty eye sockets and thrashing as they tried to remove the remnants of golden eyes.

“Mimi’s comin’.”, rasped the ex-Wrecker, “She’s. She’s gonna be here. She has to, she... We. I. I need her here, I need my Froggy to help I don’t...”

Brainstorm turned, releasing the surgeon he shook like a rattle to bolt to Whirl’s side and hold his face in sudden fear, “hey, hey babe- c’mon, look at me. Look at me sweetheart, c’mon. It’ll. It’ll be alright, I promise-”

“I-I-I...”, Whirl’s voice was shaking, breaking down and Brainstorm felt his heart break with it when Whirl finally pulled away from his thousand yard stare with tears suddenly pouring from eyes that had seen more than hell, “I wan. Froggy. H-Here!”

The sob around the words sent a shockwave through the room.

“W-Where’s. Where’s Ratch, an-nd Percy an’ Drift an’ Cyc, pl-please I. I’m scared honeybee, I’m SCARED Brainstorm my baby boy is hurtin’ it sounds like he’s DYIN’-”

Brainstorm held Whirl tight as he could, feeling tears soak the shirt he wore and heard the sobs muffled by a heartbeat and he turned a golden glare to the medics watching in terror.

“Make. The calls. Or this hospital is up in smoke.”, he said, his voice dangerously calm, “You know my name, you know what I’ve done. Do not for a moment assume I wouldn’t do it again.”

Ratchet was distraught when he finally got the comm. He burst like a thunderstorm, snarling threats and epithets after he threw open the doors and demanded to know why he hadn’t been immediately informed of the chosen medical facility as soon as his son had been loaded up and shipped away.

When the whimpered answer of, “We were informed by the enforcer at the scene to withhold all information as he took in a suspect, and not to release to anyone-”

“THEN BRING ME THE FUCKING HEAD OF MAGNUS HIMSELF GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!”

Magnus winced where he hid- no, GUARDED- the victim’s room. He hfelt more than heard Ratchet’s stomping footsteps before he cleared his throat and looked up; knowing the CMO was taking in the sootmarks and little bandages sprinkkled over the Enforcer’s arms.

“Ratchet, let me explain-”

“No, no explainin’ you insufferable lapdog of God’s Favorite Fuckups. You wanna give an EXPLANATION? You give it to Percy. Drift, you and Cyc are with me.”

Magnus blinked in shock as the three men passed by- shooting him looks of hateful disdain as they disappeared into the room and Ratchet’s bellow silence even the machine alarms.

And Perceptor stood too straight- Spine too strong and eye ice cold as he unbuttoned the cuffs of sleeves and pulled them up to his elbows.

“Start speaking, Enforcer.”, was the soft demand- lined in permafrost and a threat, “Be quick, my patience has run out and my eldest daughter is also missing. Chop-chop lapmutt.”

“She unloaded your old pistols into a crowd of teenagers.”

“Adult actions beget adult consequences. Why did you withhold Quickdraw’s location.”

“I was worried about retaliation-”

“Against wannabee vigilantes who attempted to murder my daughter and my son?”, said Percy, a bitter quirk to his lips, “Fascinating that you still protect criminals when you see fit. Where is my daughter.”

“She...”

“I hope she kicked your skull in, I’d happily take in your boys and husband.”

Magnus twitched, narrowing his eyes.

“She escaped your clutches because you’ve never been very good at your job. Your offhand treatment of the sentiments that led to this are a direct cause of harm to my family. Tell me, Magnus. Do you remember the Wreckers, that mission?”

“Of course I do- especially that day-”

“Wanna see what it was like, Magnus?”

Cold air settled around them it seemed, the exhale of winter- or the gust from a morgue refrigeration unit opening.

“Would you like to experience death, Magnus? I’ve a mind to kill you in this hallway, you know.”, said Perceptor with his expression unchanging. The Sniper from Altihex. Seekerbane. The Deadeye of the Trion, “You serve a man you know betrayed us all- you defended him, allowed him to take his position. You lick the boots of men who’d kill your boys and the supposed love of your life. And now they are going to know about, Magnus. This? There will be questions. And Rodimus hates lying.”

Perceptor laughed like ghosts haunted his vocal chords, laughed like the dead laughed with him like an invisible jury.

“You’ve made a grave error, Magnus. This was beyond an overstep. And if I find out you made any other mistakes, well.”

The smile dropped, the chime of a reticle still capable of targeting coming to life sounded like Primus’s own warning, “Then I will make you your own Garrus 9. However, unlike Overlord- I will be taking far more from you than just the physical.”

“You are threatening an officer-”

“Tell someone then, Magnus. Go on.”

Perceptor pulled out his personal comm device, “Here, use mine. Tell them- and I’ll tell your boys how you sent me and their uncles all into Garrus 9. I’ll tell them all about how you let their carrier’s murderer walk about on their carrier’s ship. How you thought his fear was funny, then annoying.”

“Announce my sins, Magnus of line Ambus- just know I can list yours too.”

Magnus cowed, and Perceptor stared a moment longer before tucking away his personal comm, “That’s what I thought. Try not to botch this investigation, would you? Maybe then I’ll find some forgiveness in me. Maybe.”

“My boys-”

“Are in danger now.”, was the simple answer, “But... not from me. Never from me. Mimi adores the twins, you know that. But the people you protect? The ones you so happily serve? Created this problem. And you allowed the rot to spread all for the sake of comfort. The same shit you’ve always done, haven’t you?”

A scoff of disgust before a sniff, “Like father like son, I suppose.”

And with that razorblade sentence sliding over Magnus’s skin Perceptor took his leave, stepping into the room with that slipstream of arctic frost following him.

Quickdraw sobbed again, feeling hands on his arms and his chest and his head and his face and thrashing against it even as socket’s still leaked clotting blood.

“GIVE ME MY MIMI, GIVE ME MIMI I NEED MIMI I NEED MY SISSA GIVE HER BACK STOP TOUCHING ME I HATE YOU GO AWAY I CAN’T SEE, MIMI I WANT MY MIMI-”

Perceptor sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed his son’s hand gently, squeezing twice.

“Quickdraw- it’s Papaceptor.”, his voice was gentle and warm, “Focus on my voice, little sunshine. Focus on my words.”

Quickdraw gulped air as his chest heaved and he sobbed with tears leaking crimson.

“Listen, little one, I know how scary it is- I know.”, he continued as Ratchet’s bellow quieted to a harsh whisper as he directed the other medics and Brainstorm backed tearfully away to watch next to Whirl and Cyclonus.

“Listennn, listen little one, I’m right here- squeeze my hand until the scared stops- just like with Mimi.”

“I c-c-can’t SEE-”

“I know. I’ve been there too little sunshine.”, he whispered gently before looking to Whirl and nodding to call him over, Papa Whirl is here too, he knows how scary it is.”

Perceptor nodded for Whirl to follow his lead. Each held one of Quickdraw’s hands as they removed their respective eye coverings- showing old scars form ancient wounds.

“Reach up, slowly- listen for our breath, listen for our words and let it guide you to touch our faces.”

Quickdraw nodded, sobbing again as a medication pump activated on a timer. He let his hands drift up after they were released, hesitant and scared, and gently patted for his father’s faces. He felt cheekbones, the brush of eyelashes- the scars of lost sight.

“Mimi will be here soon, I know it. I don’t know where she is but I know she will be here.”, murmured Perceptor, “She promised she’d always be there, remember?”

“I wan-nt my MIMI!”, sobbed Quickdraw as his hands dropped to the bed- his face pale from bloodloss, “NO MORE DOCTORS ONLY MY MIMI!”

========================================

She glanced in the rearview, seeing the flicker of lights come to life behind her as she pushed her speed into the red. Leave it to magnus and those Enforcer’s to take her little brother out into the middle of god knows where.

“Fucking hospital d’bootlicker at the corner of hell and handbasket, I swear.”, she hissed to no one- ignoring the swelling in her shoulders and the weight of broken manacle-cuffs on her wrists. The accelerator hit the floor and she whipped around a turn with a screech of tires and laugh as her pursuer sped by with what she knew would be a shocked look on their face. She laughed like her fathers, she laughed like old devils- she gunned it when she saw the lights ahead and couldn’t help but dig in a glovebox for what she knew her father hid in it.

The lighter flick reflected the fire in her eyes as she sped ever faster to where she was needed; wintergreen smoke bleeding out of a slightly open window as she whipped around another corner and bulled the vehicle through a barricade she knew didn’t belong there.

Ratchet looked up when he heard the muster of security, raising both eyebrows before he moved to the window.

“...Perce. Darlin’.”

“Yes?”

“Your daughter stole my car.”

“She does your laundry. Quid pro quo.”

When Mimi exited the vehicle, still managing to park perfectly legally, she looked at the pay-by-hour Enforcers who met her with a deadpan look in her eyes and the flick of something away from her.

“Move or I do you like I did those little wannabe killers. You have to the count of twenty. One...Two...”

Their radios hissed in unison- and Magnus’s voice sounded from them.

“Stand down. I repeat, stand down. Let her through.”, his said softly over the airwaves; and Mimi looked up at wide windows and wondered which room he hid in to see her arrive.

She waved regardless- and saw a shadow move almost too high up to notice.

And with that, she strode in- the rattle of prosthetics like the click of a criminal’s spurs or a hero’s weapon.

“I am Mimi of Kimia- I need to get to my baby brother.”, she said softly when eyes fell on her, “He needs me right now- he’s been hurt badly.”

“Th-The trauma case that just came in. W-With the eyes?”, asked the receptionist as he got to his feet, “With the wavy hair- Enforcer Magnus came in with him and you look suspicious I don’t think-”

“MIMI HE’S IN ROOM 348!”, called a voice from the sea of waiting people. Mimi turned, seeing the bright splash of Rodimus’s hair next to twin puffs of curls she knew too well.

“Forge, Dom what-”

“He’s in room 348, Dad didn’t want us to tell you he said you were going to jail!”, said Forge, breathless and looking like he’d been crying, “I treid to-to tell him he’s wrong you were protecting QD but he wouldn’t listen-”

“He never does kiddo, that’s why old Megadick was on the ship your carrier had.”, she said flatly, hating the the way the words hit the boys like a lead bar and taking in Rodimus’s sudden spark of temper and matching it with her own, “Calm down Padre Prime- at least I’m not listing all of his fuckups; or yours. Hey, boys. Ask your parents why witness statements got Roddy over ther clocked.”

She relished the wince from the Prime before she turned on her heel and stalked to an elevator- shoving her way in and daring someone to snap about it. And then the wait- watching the lights that moved too slow and smooth until finally she could bolt like she had to escape all those hours before. Down halls and glancing at numbers with a precision both inherited and practiced until she skidded to a halt in front of the door she needed- and she heard it.

“I! WANT! MY MIMI! NOW!!”

She shouldered the door open, acid-green eyes bright and hair mussed and smelling of smoke and shuttle fuel and sweat and gunfire.

“I’m here kiddo, I’m right here!”

Quickdraw froze, empty sockets locking onto the source of her voice as she jogged in and Perceptor moved with easy grace to help her sit in his previous position.

“I’m right here, li’l dude. I’m here sunshine-boy. Can you hear me, here gimme your hand-”

Quickdraw’s lips trembled and he tilted his head back- sobbing with no sound as Mimi took her little brother’s hands and put them to her cheeks and her own tears started, “I’m sorry baby-boy, I didn’t wanna be late but stuff got in the way but I’m here now- I’m right here like I always promised I would be-”

“Th-They hurt my EYES I CAN’T SEE-”

“I know, I know, shhhhh- c’mere scoot over c’mon.”

“Mimi, I don’t-”, began Ratchet, but the look she shot him made him shiver and glance at Perceptor, who smiled with no mirth and nodded.

‘She gets it from me.’, went unsaid.

‘It’s her only warning before she lives up to my name.’, was understood.

And Mimi grunted when she settled next to Quickdraw in the wide hospital bed, uncaring of the blood that leaked from his face as he cried with silent sobs and curled into her side- burying his face against her chest before moving so his ear rested over her heartbeat like Perceptor had done for her for many years.

“I’m here kiddo. Sissa is here.”, she whispered, “Let the doctors do doctor stuff, m’kay? Just like when you were little, I’ll be right here and hold your hand; gimme those fingies young’n.”

Quickdraw giggled thickly- full of pain medication and terror and fear and relief and it was Ratchet who sighed- pulling gloves on and muttering about protocol before shaking his head and waving an assistant over.

Quickdraw let his head be turned- letting himself cry out as viscera was carefully trimmed after a needle numbed the area for the twelfth time that night.

Quickdraw held tight to Mimi’s hand, she kissed his temple and hummed a lullaby she taught herself so many years ago- when a little boy in dinosaur pajamas said “Sissa!” in a squeaky voice, lisping on the s and giggling when she wiggled her ears at him with a smile.

“I promised.”, she murmured at the chatter of surgery preparation and room clearing began, “I promised I’d always be there, QD. I’m here now, it’s okay. Go to sleep, and I’ll wake you in the morning when it’s all over.”

“Wiv toas?”, was QD’s slurred request as his body finally stopped fighting sedatives and painkillers and began to slip into drugged sleep.

“Yeah, dino-baby. With french toast and extra syrup and fluffy eggs just the way you like ‘em.”

He dropped away, she carefully extricated herself and then cracked her neck.

“Are you alright?”, asked Perceptor.

“Magnus manacled me. Had to slip my shoulders to get out of it like Dadspin taught me. Where are the other kids. They need me.”

“With Rodimus and the twins.”

“Mm. He’s going to hate me for a bit. May have narced to his boys how shitty parents used to be.”

“A pleasant change from announcing my mistakes.”

“Don’t get used to it.”, she said flatly- emotion drained from her like grace from God as Quickdraw whas wheeled away with Ratchet by his side and tight-lipped in anger, “Someone bring my other kiddos to me- walking hurts. Had to roll out of a moving fucking vehicle and kick free so I could book it home for the car.”

“Far ahead of you.”, said Cyclonus, tucking away his comm, “Rodimus- well, little Dominus the Second is bringing them up.”

“Good.”

The door opened and Chrona was first through- sobbing her apologies in a voice made hoarse from old screams and Mimi folded her into a hug- bundling her and Kiki and Dani into a protective hug made familiar by a world that wore pleasantness as a facade.

“It’s okay, I’m right here now- Just like I promised.”

#pastelwrites #ot6 and then some au #fankids

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