#i know this kind of breaks some of the potential customization for the hunter

[northern-passage]

Is sign language something the Order teaches?

After asking that, I realise that it's much more likely that Handlers learn it as part of their education (being the one who engages with the common folk out of the duo).

But what if a Hunter wanted to learn it? Would they have to request being taught as well?

And outside of the Order, how is sign language treated in the overall world?

it is, actually! sign language is pretty widely taught as a second language in Adrania. that's not to say that everyone is fluent, though, and there are different dialects just like in real life (ie ASL vs BASL) if someone is fortunate enough to receive schooling they will typically study common sign language (which is mainly used for trade and is very formal), but whether or not they retain it and can still understand it varies from person to person, and again there are variations that will differ from the basic common version taught in a school. with the class divide in Adrania, i also imagine there would be a drastic difference between the culture and sign of lower classes (who most likely will not have received any kind of education) and the upper classes.

and you're right, Lea is the one that is more proficient in it between the two, mainly because they are the one doing most of the talking. the hunter has a basic understanding and can typically interpret signs, but isn't the best at signing themself. if you go with Merry in Blackwater, you can see her, Mal, and Branwen all sign to each other, with Branwen actually being hoh. the hunter recognizes that Branwen calls Merry a bastard, but for the most part the three sign too fast for the hunter to understand. Merry and Mal will continue to use sign throughout the story, and they actually use a variation that neither the hunter nor Lea will recognize, even if they were signing slower; think of it like the thieves cant, but in sign.

#i know this kind of breaks some of the potential customization for the hunter #but it's not really something that will come up besides with Mal and Merry (which the hunter cant understand anyways) #but dont take this as me saying you cant roleplay your hunter as hoh #just know that it's also not something im planning on writing into the story. if that makes sense #also i use the word 'common' here like the way it's used in dnd #ive had sign built into the world since i started hehe i always intended for it to kind of work as a common trade language #a very formal variation used in ports and markets to get around language barriers #which is how a lot of pirates ended up using their own variation that evolved into what is basically a secret language #this will come up in ch3 since mal and merry will use it to talk to each other in front of everyone else #ask #anonymous #lore

[voidscreamintheories]

HtP Theory: Blue Man in a Pound Land 1 of 2

Spoilers for Hunter the Parenting This is part 2 of a series exploring the potential identity of Big D, and what we can do with that information. Part 1 here

The Blue Man. Who is he? Well, obviously HE IS THE BLUE MAN. And also an allegory for capitalism. As I understand it there are organizations in WoD who are big capitalist nightmare companies that are either ran by demons/devils or they try to shove demons into their products to get demons into the heads of their customers (maybe both at the same time!). So it would not be out of the realm of possibility for “Line must go up” Blue Man to be a demon of some variety. The whole interaction about GROWTH and inevitability is obvious capitalism satire, yes, but I think also points towards the Blue Man as being only part of a greater whole. Perhaps similar to a branch of a chain. Though in this case the corporation is some evil cabal of demons from hell. The suggestion to “invest” may have been a classic “join us and experience great power” villain trope. Similarly “We are coming soon” implies that this group of demons is planning to break out of hell soon.

“If he’s a demon doesn’t that mean he is a fallen angel like D? How come D needs to inhabit some frail old guy to be on earth? Didn’t you say that demons might need a bunch of magic users to call them up?” Great questions all, and ones that I think actually help the idea of him being some kind of fiendish being. If he is the same type of demon as what I theorize Big D is, a fallen angel, then he doesn’t have to be a good one like D. Some of the fallen decide to roll with the punches and just lean into being evil bastards, perhaps the Blue Man is one such high torment being. Or perhaps he’s another kind of malevolent entity that my unawakened mind calls “demon” because he fits a lot of criteria that I associate with those creatures, even if he is something else. One example here is the possession of a frail body/soul: On one hand, maybe the old, oxygen deprived body we see IS the host of the Blue Man, an aged and hypoxic man. On the other hand, and what I believe to be the case, maybe the Blue Man doesn’t need to be fully over the threshold and on earth to do whatever it is he wants to do, and that leads into who might be calling him. At the end of the audiolog we see the manager call up the Tremere regent and she informs her that D found the pit, which she calls the “entrance”. So if the Blue Man was called by a group of magic users, I think I know a certain bunch who would fit. However, let’s discuss that at the end of this theory.

I think it’s made clear to us by the end of D’s part in the audiolog that the encounter we witnessed was not happening in the flesh and blood real world. The distorted sound during the encounter, and the evidence D himself notes indicate it was some kind of mental/spiritual encounter. BUT D does get a physical blender, and a very nice one at that, so what does this mean? I think the Blue Man and the 99 pound shop represent a classic Faustian bargain. A deal with the devil where you get precisely what you want, and it might even seem like a good deal on the surface (a very expensive blender for only 99p!), but the REAL price is more than you thought you were bargaining for. In this case that may have been literal, D’s horror at being in a 99 POUND store instead of 99 pence, but I also suspect figuratively. There is no way D just gets that blender and walks away, there will likely be some devil-deal cost somewhere down the line. HOWEVER, D didn’t pay the full cost of the item. Giles spotted him a pence because he was one short. I don’t think this moment was put in as a throwaway. Either this means D has a way to wiggle out of the deal and associated cost on a technicality: He didn’t pay the full price and thus the deal didn’t actually happen. This would fit with some of D’s behaviour around legal dealings, such as not TECHNICALLY being divorced from Occam since D never signed the papers. Back to Giles though, there is also the potential that him chipping in to paying for the blender means he is now roped into whatever punishment is coming D’s way.

Have to split this post up again, too many words, second half here

#fan theory #h:tp #htp #hunter the parenting #hunter: the parenting #htp big d #htp the blue man #htp giles

[mandospace]

Promise (Boba Fett x Reader Smut)

Request:  Hello! I was unsure if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if you could write a Boba x reader fic where they make a bet to see if reader would last a night as a his “bounty”. Kind of like a primal kink thing? 😅 Your writing is so amazing thank you so much for the Din and Boba content! ♥️

Requested By: @xothra

Word Count: 5,797

Warnings: SMUT! If you are under 18, DO NOT INTERACT! Primal kink, hunting (?) kink, slight bondage, fingering, spanking, PinV sex, strong language, a hint of fluff?

A/N: I am a whore for Boba. That is all. **gif cred to @humanveil!**

MASTERLIST

“Right there,” Boba groaned, jaw clenched tight. Pain radiated through his back, his muscles tight and tense from the stressful life he lived as a bounty hunter-turned-kingpin. “Fuck, your hands are like magic, princess.”

“Kriff, Boba, what did you do?” your hands moved down his back, fingers prodding the sore muscles. You shuffled down his body before sitting on the back of his thighs. Boba had come home from a long hunt, complaining about how his back was hurting. He never complained, so you knew he wasn’t feeling well when he collapsed on your shared bed within his chambers. His beskar armor and shirt was already stripped from his body, revealing the tight muscles that were colored with bruises, some fading and some new. When you offered him a back massage, he quickly nodded and turned over on his stomach. His muscles were extremely tense under your fingers as you tried to massage the tension away. 

“Dunno,” he mumbled into the pillow, eyes screwing tight at both pleasure and pain. Your fingers were cool against his back, a welcomed comfort after a long day. He barely registered your weight when you sat back on his thighs, too encompassed in your soothing touch. “One moment I was chasing after the quarry and the next my back was killing me.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” you rubbed soothing circles into the dip of his back. “Lay low for a while, let Fennec take over the hunting.”

“You saying I’m too slow, princess?” Boba quipped underneath you, turning his head to the side so you could hear him more clearly. “That I’m getting too old for this?”

“Never, Boba,” you smirked to yourself before leaning down and pressing your lips between his shoulder blades. He shivered under your touch and let out a small sigh. “All I’m saying is that maybe you don’t have to hunt anymore. Let some other bounty hunter chase after your enemies.”

“You do think I’m old.” Boba huffed, turning under you so he could see your face. You settled down over his hips and ran your hands up his stomach, stopping to play with the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. 

“Well...” your words trailed off, bottom lip catching between your teeth. Boba had a tough life- much tougher than most. Bounty hunting was never an easy profession for anyone, and it certainly wasn’t kind to him. Working for crime lords was always dangerous, especially one that owned a rancor and sarlacc. Life didn’t get any easier for Boba after he crawled out of the pit- it took him years to regain his strength and armor. Only recently have things started going his way, what with finding you and performing a successful coup. He shouldn’t have to work anymore, he deserves to relax and rule the Outer Rim with you by his side. “Why not relax and take a little break from hunting. Rest up until you’re feeling better, and then you can get back to chasing down quarries.”

“I am perfectly capable of hunting right now,” he playfully glared at you. Smiling, you ran your hands further up his body, cupping his jaw. Your body followed your hands and you leaned over him, nose brushing his.

“Darling,” you placed a soft peck to the corner of his mouth. “You couldn’t catch me if I ran out that door right now.”

Your mouth on his skin was distracting, but he still caught your words. “I could too!” Boba gripped your hips suddenly and flipped the two of you over so that he was now on top. He tried to ignore the slight pain that still radiated from his back. “You wouldn’t even make a mile outside the palace gates before I caught up to you. And that’s being generous.”

“Is that a challenge, old man?” you teased, teeth nipping down his jaw and neck. “I bet it would take you longer than a day to find me.”

“Oh really?” Boba couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto his lips. He loved the playful banter the two of you sometimes shared. It always led to you in his bed, trapped between the mattress and him for hours on end. “What do I get if I win?”

It was Boba’s turn to tease you now and his lips started to trail down your neck. He stopped right over your jugular, sucking a dark spot on the soft skin. You tried to hold back the breathy moans that threatened to spill from your lips. “If you win, you could do whatever you want to me for a day.”

“I’m going to need a little more than that, princess,” he smirked against your skin. “What’s stopping me from taking what I want from you right now since you’re already under me?”

“Fine,” you relented. “A week.” If he won, it’s not like you were actually losing anything. A week filled with Boba doing whatever he pleased to you left you wet and needy beneath him.

“That’s more like it,” Boba growled before he pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. He wasted no time before he licked into your mouth, moaning as he forced you into submission. 

“But,” you broke off the kiss, chest heaving. “If I win, you need to take a break from hunting. A real break.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, princess,” he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently. “I’ll have you back in my bed before the suns are down tomorrow. Then the real fun will begin.”

“Not if you can’t catch me, old man,” you winked before pulling his lips back to yours. 

Tomorrow, the hunt will begin.

___

“You can just forfeit now,” Boba hummed against your neck, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was the next morning and you were grabbing last minute items to throw in your satchel. You had everything a girl running from her bounty hunter lover could need- credits, food, change of clothes, and your blaster. “I won’t hold it against you. I’ll still uphold my end of the bargain and keep you in my bed for a week.”

You’ve never rolled your eyes harder than you did in that moment. “You know,” you turned in his hold and looked up at your lover. He was dressed in his armor except for his green helmet, ready to hunt you down and take what was his. “You’re awfully cocky for an old man. Aren’t you supposed to be done with such childish things?”

“Ha-ha,” he rolled his eyes. Boba brought a gloved hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The mischief in his eyes was replaced with seriousness. “Be careful, princess. Check in with me every few hours so I know you’re okay.”

“I will,” you turned your face into his palm, kissing the worn leather. “I’ll miss you.”

“Don’t worry, little one,” he glided his thumb over your cheek bone. “We’ll be back together before the suns set.”

“I think you’re underestimating my ability,” you placed a light kiss on his lips and pulled away before you could get lost in his touch. “I learned from the best, after all.” You started towards the large palace doors, satchel over your shoulder. The large doors opened with a creak. Excitement and adrenaline pumped through your veins. You’ve never been on the run before, but the thrill of Boba tracking and hunting you down was electrifying. Realistically, you knew Boba would find you fast on the desolate planet of Tatooine. The only advantage you had was that Fennec was driving you to Mos Eisley where you could hide more easily in the busy city. An enormous disadvantage you had though was that Boba knew where you were going. Even if you tried your hardest, you knew you couldn’t run away from Boba and keep him off your trail for long. Eventually, the skilled bounty hunter would find you and claim his prize; most likely before the end of the night. Joining Fennec on the speeder, you waved back at your lover before you sped away from the palace, wind whipping through your hair.

___

Mos Eisley was crowded with people. Shop owners were selling their various goods, hollering to potential customers to come view their wares. Food carts were everywhere and gamblers sat at their tables, playing sabacc and dice. Only a few fights broke out amongst people, but for the most part their shouting and yelling was drowned out by the din of the busy, sandy streets.

Fennec had dropped you off at one of the cantinas before speeding off on the bike. While she was a master of disguise and able to blend in plain sight, the news of Boba’s successful coup had spread and Fennec Shand’s name was in every vagrant’s mouth. She preferred to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

You had no idea where you should go or start. While you had teased Boba that you would be able to outwit him and that he wouldn’t be able to catch you, you realized that maybe you were in over your head. I mean, how were you supposed to outwit and win against the best bounty hunter in the galaxy? It wasn’t a title that he just gave himself, he rightfully earned it. Boba Fett was infamous- everyone knew who he was.

And you were supposed to be running from him.

Okay, yeah, you were screwed. But you couldn’t think like that right now- you had to think quickly and try to evade Boba for as long as you could. You weren’t doing this for yourself, you were doing this for Boba. He was pushing himself too hard lately, running the crime underworld while simultaneously hunting down his enemies. He deserved to have some fun. You knew he would love this- hunting you down like prey. It played perfectly into the fantasies that lived in his head. While he never voiced them to you, you never forgot the glint in his eyes when he first tied you up. It was only natural that desire fed into this one.

This was for Boba. And you were going to give him one hell of a hunt.

Your eyes scanned the streets of Mos Eisley, trying to think through and reason what would be the best course to take. Originally, you thought losing yourself in the bustling bazaar would be the best idea until you realized that’s exactly what Boba would expect you to do. You had to do better than that, you had to do what Boba would do. Maybe if you thought and moved like him, you could evade him long enough.

Deciding that standing in one spot wasn’t the best option, you started to move your way through the crowd. Your eyes searched high and low for possible hiding places. Boba would expect you to stay in town where you were familiar with your surroundings. When you saw the dewback nestled in a stable, you almost spent all of your credits on the beast. Going out into the dunes wasn’t a good idea, though. Tusken raiders have been moving a lot more than usual in the desert and it would be your luck to get caught by them. Passing by the giant green lizard, you patted its head and sighed. Another time, buddy.

You hadn’t been out to the town in some time. Things had changed in the central hub of Tatooine. While there were always going to be thieves and bandits and vagrants roaming the city, things seemed... more calm. People weren’t scurrying away from each other like they used to, afraid that someone would do them harm. They smiled more, talked with their neighbors instead of hiding their faces. You had never seen Tatooine actually, well, thriving since you arrived on the desolate planet. While you hadn’t resided here for long, you remembered how bad things were when Bib Fortuna ruled the area. Being out amongst the people of Tatooine made you realize that it was because of Boba that things were better. Yes, he was a crime kingpin, and yes, he knew how to be ruthless; but the people were so much better off with him in the Hutt palace than they’ve been in centuries. The thought made pride swell up in your chest. Your Boba was making this shithole of a planet just a little bit better.

“Do you miss me, pretty girl?” Boba’s gravely voice sounded over the commlink, startling you and the dewback you were still petting. Fumbling for the comm, your hands were shaking just from hearing his voice, you brought it up to your lips.

“Not at all,” you tried to sound nonchalant and not like he just scared the shit out of you. “Haven’t been to town in a while, it’s nice.”

“Well I miss you, princess,” his voice made your knees weak. He was far away from you, yet just the timbre of his words made you needy. “It’s only been a few hours but my cock is already throbbing with how much I need you.”

“Boba,” you scolded, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as onlookers gave you a look. They had heard him, of course. “You can’t... say those things right now.”

“Why?” he chuckled. “Did someone hear? Are you still in the bazaar?”

“Uh, no.” Shit, you were bad at lying to him.

“So you are in the bazaar,” you could visualize the smirk that you knew was on his face. “Mind picking me up some of those berries you love so much? I love the way they make your lips taste.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet. Giving the dewback one last pat, you rejoined the busy crowd. Boba was getting closer to Mos Eisley and you didn’t have much time to find a good hiding space. You had to think fast.

“What, you’re not talking to me now?”

“I’m not not talking to you.” Switching the commlink to run through the small earpiece lodged in your ear, you noticed a small inn on the corner of the busy street. Maybe that would be a good place to lay low?

“Okay, then just listen, princess,” his voice was rough and made you whimper. You could feel how wet your underwear was becoming just from his voice alone. Good thing you thought of switching the audio of the commlink to your ear or else everyone would hear the filthy words Boba muttered. “When I catch you, and I will catch you, I’m going to tie you up and take you right then and there. I don’t care if anyone is around us, I’m going to make you scream and beg for my cock so everyone knows who you belong to.”

You had to find a hiding place and fast. Just hearing his words was making you soak through your underwear and you needed to get away from this crowd of people. “Promise?”

“Oh, I promise, sweet thing.” you were certain that he had a sly smile on his face under the helmet. “I’ll find you before the suns go down and claim my bounty. You’ll be the sweetest reward I ever get.”

You didn’t care if you lost the bet. Moving towards the small inn, you glanced down at your watch, noting the time. “You’ve got 5 hours until they set. Come and get me, Fett.”

“With pleasure.”

___

The inn was your best option in the small city so you purchased a room. Boba was just now leaving the palace, ready to start his hunt. While it wouldn’t be much of a hunt for him (you were too easy of prey), you were certain he would love his reward. The room was small, sandstone walls that held little to know decorations. There was a bed with simple colored sheets and a small bathroom attached. It would be enough for what you had planned for your hunter. 

You got to work.

When you were packing your bags this morning, you made a big show of grabbing only the necessities. Boba was trailing behind you the entire morning, his hands never left your waist. He was constantly trying to convince you to stay home with him and to give up the bet, but you didn’t fall into the temptation. You knew he would absolutely love hunting you, even if he never said it. Besides, you wanted to give him a real treat for when he finally caught you. Before she picked you up, Fennec had gone back to your chambers and collected the black bag with the items you had packed away while Boba was still asleep. That black bag now sat on the bed.

The satchel held what you needed for tonight. Candles, ropes, a brand new lingerie set you knew Boba would rip to shreds once he saw you in it. The black lace was beautiful and soft. Just imagining the look on Boba’s face when he sees you in it made desire pool low in your stomach.

You still had a few hours until you were sure he would find you. Fennec was nice enough to lay down a false trail to make things more exciting for Boba. What a nice lady when she actually wanted to be nice. You moved to the fresher and began to peel the clothes from your body. Even though you weren’t physically running from Boba, the day spent wandering through the streets of Mos Eisley left a thin layer of grime coating your skin. You wanted to be nice and clean for when Boba finally caught you. Turning the fresher on, excitement settled in your bones at the prospect of tonight.

___

Boba Fett had been on the hunt all day. The twin suns of Tatooine were moving low in the horizon. Sunset would be within the next hour.

Good thing Boba had already found you.

Once he realized Fennec had laid down a false trail for you, it was easy for Boba to find your real trail through Mos Eisley. Hishelmet allowed him to see your footprints in the sandy streets. He followed your every move, placing himself in your steps and lived out your day hours later. He noticed that you had stopped at the stables for some time, and when Boba asked the stablemaster about you, he learned that you spent a good part of your day petting the dewback the man owned. His heart thumped at the thought of you petting the great beast. Boba knew you used to have pets and that you missed caring for your animals dearly. He would have to get you one soon.

The suns were just starting to fall behind the sandy dunes of Tatooine when Boba arrived at the small inn. After tossing a few credits to the owner, he learned which room you were staying in. Boba could feel the excitement build up inside of him, just like it did when he was close to his other quarries. Stopping in front of your door, his cock throbbed painfully in his trousers at what would happen when he caught you. Boba didn’t wait a moment longer before turning the handle.

The room was dark, save for a few flickering candles that were scattered throughout the room. His visor easily switched into night vision to allow him to see, but he wanted to experience this with his own eyes. Lifting the helmet, Boba’s eyes rested on your figure and his cock jumped at what he saw.

You were lounging on the bed, scantily clad in black lace that barely left anything to the imagination. His eyes roamed up your body and admired the lace that hugged your curves perfectly. When he got to your chest, he noted that a small carton of berries rested on top of your cleavage and that you were lazily bringing the ripe fruit to your lips. Boba wanted to reach out and feel those lips on his own and taste the tartness of the fruit.

“Bout’ time, Fett,” you fished around in the carton before you found a particularly ripe berry and popped it into your mouth. “Was thinking you’d never find me.”

“I’ll always find you, princess,” his voice rumbled through his chest. “Looks like I found you before the suns set, too.” Boba nodded towards the small window, pointing out the setting suns. “I win.”

Picking up another fruit, you brought it to your mouth and bit it slowly, the juice spilling out and running down your chin and chest. You gave Boba a seductive grin. “Come and get your prize, my king.”

Boba’s eyes visibly darkened with lust and a growl sounded from his chest. His strides were long and quickly closed the distance between the two of you. Scrambling on top of the bed, he moved the carton of berries over on the side table. Boba dropped his head to your chest and ran his tongue over your breasts, licking the sweet juice off of you. A breathless moan left your mouth and your chest arched into his touch. His hands were rough as they grabbed at your wrists, bringing them up and above your head. Boba reached for the cuffs attached to his belt and snapped them into place around your wrists. He had you now.

“You thought you could run away from me, huh?” his voice was deep and gravely, sending waves of desire south. Boba grabbed the rope you had set aside on the table and tied your already cuffed wrists to the headboard. “Thought that you could outsmart me?”

His leather-clad hand trailed up your chest and settled at the base of your neck. When you didn’t answer, his fingers wrapped around your throat and gave it a slight squeeze- not enough pressure to cut off your air, just enough to slightly restrict your blood flow. “Answer me, girl.”

“No!” you gasped. Boba would never hurt you, you knew this, and this whole scenario was just pretend- all for Boba. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it too, though. You easily slid into your role. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Boba hummed at your apology and released his grip on your throat. Air flooded into your lungs. Before he returned to touching you, Boba brought his hand to your lips. “Bite,” was all he said, and he nudged the soft leather between your teeth. You pulled off his gloves with your teeth before letting them fall to the bed. He returned his hands to your body, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine. His fingers were calloused, weathered from years of fighting. Hands moving to your breasts, Boba took them in his hands and gave them a squeeze. 

“Fuck, you look so good, princess,” Boba moaned at the soft feeling of your breasts in lace. Pulling down the lace cups, he released the soft flesh. He brought his head down and licked at one of your pert nipples, hand massaging the other. His mouth was warm over the sensitive skin and it felt delicious. He rolled his tongue over the bud before giving it a slight nip. A sharp gasp escaped your mouth and Boba chuckled. “Easy there, little one.”

You couldn’t help but whimper when Boba’s mouth switched to your other breast. His hand traveled down past your navel and cupped your warm pussy. “Look at this bounty,” he growled into your skin. His forefinger slid your black panties to the side and into your wet folds. “So wet, and all for me.”

“Yes,” you whined when his finger slipped past your tight entrance. He slowly pumped his thick finger in and out of your pussy, his lips trailing over your breasts while leaving marks across your chest. The rough pad of his finger brushed against the small bundle of nerves inside and your back arched at the sensation. “All yours! Fuck, Boba, please, I need you inside of me.”

Heading your pleading, Boba pulled his finger from inside of your cunt. You missed the feeling of being full by his fingers- he had barely touched you and you already started to feel the frustration tear up in your eyes. He didn’t pull his finger fully away- thank the Maker- instead, he began to circle your clit slowly.

“You need me, princess?” Boba nuzzled his face against your neck, nipping at the skin over pulse point. “Hmm? Need my cock inside that pretty little pussy?”

“Yes,” you moaned. You couldn’t take these teasing touches anymore. Pulling at your restraints to reach for him, you learned that there was no way you were getting out of those without help. “Please.”

“I don’t think you deserve it.” he pulled his hand away from your aching pussy, completely. Now the tears really started to well up. You tried to show him how much you needed him through the look you gave him. “Good girls don’t run away.”

“Boba, I’m sorry, I-“ you were cut off by your own yelp of pain when he brought his hand down on your ass. The pain turned to pleasure when he started to rub soothing circles into the reddened skin.

“Good girls listen to what they’re told,” Boba grabbed at your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. The rope attached to your cuffs and the headboard tightened with the torque of you flipping. His fingers gripped the thin fabric of your panties and pulled- torn fabric falling to the bed. Boba’s hand came down on your ass again before rubbing the flesh. “Are you going to listen, princess?”

“Yes, I’ll listen- I’ll be good!” you cried into the pillow your face was buried in. You could feel his hands massaging your ass cheeks, playing with the pillowy flesh. Arching your back, you pushed your ass back into his hands, displaying your sopping pussy for him.

“Good,” Boba praised while taking his hands away from you. You almost whined out again when he removed his hands from you, but when you heard the zipper of his pants being pulled down, you relaxed and arched your back more. Boba took his hardened cock in his hand and brought it to your soaking pussy, rubbing the hot head through your folds. He kept running it through your slick, gathering as much of your arousal as he could. The tip of his cock brushed against your clit and you let out a breathy moan.

“Boba, please,” you moaned into the pillow. He was teasing you- he knew this, and he made sure that you sure as hell knew it. He kept brushing it over your clit, holding it there for a second- the pressure was delicious- before dragging it back down to your entrance. It was tantalizing- agonizing.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Boba chuckled at your begging. He notched the head of his cock at your entrance and pushed in. “I’ll put on a good show.”

The feeling of Boba splitting you open was something you’d never forget. No matter how many times the two of you had been together, you never got used to his size. It was both painful and pleasurable during that first thrust of his hips. His cock stretched your velvety walls almost to their breaking point. Pain dissolved into pleasure as he fully sheathed his cock inside of your dripping pussy. You couldn’t help the cry that fell from your lips- you were just so full.

Boba’s grip on your hips tightened when he started to thrust into you, setting a bruising pace. Moans of pleasure slipped past your lips and landed on the pillow. You tugged on the restraints, trying to ground yourself from the intoxicating pleasure. Boba’s hips snapped against your ass and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberated off the sandstone walls.

“Fuck, princess,” Boba’s arms wrapped tight around your waist, tugging your hips back in time with his thrusts. You were so tight around him- a vice in the best way possible- squeezing him just right. Boba dropped his mouth to your back, kissing and biting marks against your skin between his grunts of pleasure. His hands roamed up your stomach to your breasts, cupping them with a squeeze. The black lace was still in the way, keeping your soft skin out of reach. He made quick work of the thin lace and the ruined material joined the tattered pieces of your underwear. You were completely bare before him now and Boba growled at the sight- you were breathtaking. “So-so good, so beautiful.”

Boba’s name was constantly falling from your lips. Each brush of his hard cock against your velvety walls brought you more and more pleasure. It pooled low in your stomach and spread through your veins. “Wa-want to t-touch you.”

Boba didn’t reply, instead he reached above you for your restraints. He made quick work of your bindings and soon enough you were free. Boba wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you back against him. The cool beskar of his cuirass dug into your back and imprinted its shape into your skin. Boba dropped his head to your shoulder and nuzzled his face into your neck. Hands roamed up your stomach and cupped your breasts. His large hands pushed and pulled at the soft flesh, pinched your peaked nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. At this new angle, Boba’s cock brushed against that bundle of nerves inside of you.

“You’re mine,” Boba growled into your neck, nipping and kissing purple marks into your skin. His teeth sank into the junction of your neck and jaw, tongue swiping over the fresh mark. All you could do was nod and moan in agreement- he kept pounding into you at just the right angle that was making you see stars. His hands kept roaming over your body, kneading whatever skin he could get a hold of. Your arms were reaching up and behind you, holding his head against you so his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, you feel so good, princess,” Boba moaned against your neck, lips trailing up to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear. “Do you feel that, baby?” Boba grabbed one of your hands that was holding his head to your skin and dragged it down your body before resting over your stomach. His large hand rested over yours and pressed it into your skin. “Do you feel my cock deep in your stomach, little one?”

You did. The feeling of his cock pushing deep inside of you made your stomach bulge out slightly. The feeling of Boba using you to reach his high drove you to your own.

“Boba, I-” you were cut off by your own moan. His cock kept brushing against the bundle of nerves inside of you. It was driving you crazy.

“I know, princess,” Boba nipped at your ear, growling out your name. “Come for me, little one.” The arm around your waist pulled you tighter against him while the other trailed down your stomach to where he was pounding into you. The rough pads of his fingers dropped down to your clit and began to rub quick circles into it. “Come all over my cock.”

His words in addition to the motions of his fingers and thrust of his cock inside of you made the metaphorical dam inside of you break under the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm spilled over and flooded your veins, waves of pleasure wracking your body. The feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him drove Boba closer to his own high.

“Fuck, princess,” Boba moaned lowly in your ear whilst pulling out of you quickly. You missed the feeling of being full of his cock but before you could whine out a complaint, Boba was flipping you over onto your back. He grabbed your ankles and tugged you to the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist. Boba dropped his forehead to yours and his hot breath fanned over your face. He pressed a searing kiss to your lips and drank in your breathless moans. The feeling of him pounding into you was almost too much- you were so sensitive from your previous orgasm. “You take me so well.”

“Come inside of me, Boba,” you bit down on his bottom lip and he growled. “Fill me up.”

“Fu-fuck, princess!” his hips stuttered against you as his balls pulled up tightly. He ground his cock inside of you and he came hard, his cum painting your walls. The warmth of his seed and the throbbing of his cock sent you over the edge again. Your nails trailed down his muscular back, leaving angry red marks over his tan skin. Boba settled inside of you and moaned your name against your soft lips. He trailed kisses over your face, lightly kissing your chin, cheeks, nose, eyelids, before placing a final one to your forehead. Hands came up to cradle your face and he placed another kiss to your hairline. 

“You did so well for me, little one.” Boba nuzzled his face into your hair and tucked your head under his chin. He rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him. His beskar armor was cold against your skin but you didn’t care. Boba’s arms were around you and his cock was still buried inside of you. He placed another kiss on your hairline. “Sorry if I was a little rough with you.”

You placed a kiss to his green cuirass. “I didn’t mind. I like it when you get a little rough.” Boba chuckled underneath you and he brought his hand to your hair, combing through the tangles. “Though, I’m not sure my outfit liked it.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one. Any color you want.”

“Hmm...” you hummed in contemplation, trailing your finger over his armor. “Maybe a dark green one? With red accents? I’d like to match your armor- maybe even wear your helmet while you fuck me.”

His cock twitched inside of you at your words. “Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, little one.”

“Oh, that’s a promise I fully intend to keep,” you leaned up and pulled him into another kiss. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, biting gently. “Just like I intend to uphold our bet.”

“I can’t wait to take you on every surface of the palace,” he pulled you into another kiss, licking into your mouth. “I bet I can make you come so much that you won’t be able to walk straight for weeks.”

“Is that a challenge, Fett?” your hips shifted slightly, his cock hardening inside of you. 

“It’s a promise.”

#boba fett x reader #boba fett smut #boba fett masterlist #boba fett x you #boba fett x y/n #boba fett oneshot #boba fett one shot #boba fett drabble #boba fett imagine #boba fett fanfic #boba fett fic #star wars imagine #star wars smut #star wars fanfic #star wars fan fiction #star wars fic #boba fett fan fiction

[sepublic]

Eda’s Happiness

           Okay, but can we talk about the importance of that entire crowd, vouching and cheering for Eda’s escape?!? Every time we’ve seen Eda transform in public, it’s always gone wrong- Her first moment was no doubt incredibly traumatic, especially with her own older sister doing nothing to help Eda, as she was forced to navigate this curse on her own. And you can TELL that Eda actually has a lot of trust issues, and concerns with being a freak; Like yeah she still manages to have so much self-confidence, because that’s the only way she can survive and deal with how she’s treated! Not just for her ideals, but for her curse as well… The hurt of seeing her own sister prioritize the system that hurt and abused Eda, over Eda herself!

           And so Eda assumes that she’s naturally unlovable. That she’s only someone’s last choice, and the kind of people that would hang around her are only ‘weirdoes’ who have nobody else to go to. She doesn’t tell King nor Luz about the curse because she’s so afraid they’ll be turned off, that they’ll ditch her… And it’s hurting her inside because you KNOW the general public is at least somewhat aware of her curse. You know the Emperor’s Coven played up the incident as proof of what happens to Wild Witches –given Belos does so in the season finale himself- and how scummy people like Odalia and Alador told their children stories of the evil Owl Lady… And it must make Eda feel so humiliated, dehumanized, and unvalid? So unsupported and lonely???

           There were no doubt snobs and bullies who rubbed it in Eda’s face afterwards, or mocked her behind her back, about having the last laugh- That no matter how much more talented or enthusiastic Eda was compared to them, it was Eda who ended up worse off as a criminal rooting around in trash, that she got what she deserved in the end! There were probably plenty who mocked Eda for the lost, wasted potential because of the curse- While her enemies and bullies went to higher, prestigious places, such as the Emperor’s Coven. And to cope with this kind of mockery and humiliation, this feeling of being outdone and left behind by people so consdescending of you when you were once the best… Like they were right all this time about you turning out to be nothing.

          I think Eda really had to learn to love and appreciate what she was doing, while disregarding any notions of superiority and hierarchy existing in the first place. That Eda didn’t need to feel like she was actually secretly doing better than others by being a wanted criminal, any lifestyle was valid! Eda chose not to wallow in bitterness and self-pity, to avoid that sense of entitlement and jealousy towards others for having what she was rightfully owed and then cheated out of, when it should’ve been hers and not theirs- Eda didn’t become obsessed with petty spite, about proving everyone wrong about her, about caring about what others had to say… She didn’t foolishly invest her energy towards revenge!

          At her lowest point, Eda avoided looking to Belos’ toxic system for validation and an answer like so many others had. By doing so, Eda got to live truly freely without anything holding her down, she didn’t fall for that trap, validation from herself was all Eda needed… No wonder there was such a refreshing relief and sense of self-discovery in her newfound lifestyle, and why Eda so unironically boasts of it to Luz! But in the end… it feels good to receive support from others as well, and Eda no doubt missed that from a lot of people, especially her sister Lilith. And when you have only yourself… Amidst society and your own sister calling you a degenerate and a freak? With even the nature and the Boiling Isles/Titan that Eda found inspiration from, seemingly rejecting the kind of person she was, according to the Titan’s alleged messenger?

           It’s no wonder she’s so tsundere about showing affection. Why Eda insists on being closed-off, and it’s why Eda insists on being nice to Luz despite her own fears of rejection, because she really doesn’t want Luz to go through what she did! And it just… MEANS. SO. MUCH, to her, when Luz and King stick with Eda after learning of the curse! And they actively help Eda with the curse, go out of their way to help her when Eda isn’t asking them, when Eda is telling them NOT to… And Eda’s kind of nervous and unsure of how to feel about Luz’s hugs. Maybe she’s afraid of being abandoned for the Coven System like Lilith did to her, which is why she’s so against Luz joining Hexside; But she also doesn’t want to force things on Luz, and she recognizes that Luz’s autonomy is more important, and that if Luz makes the choice to leave Eda, Eda should respect that! So she gives Luz that choice without trying to sway Luz to any particular opinion…

           Luz is just SO KIND, and it’s all so unusual and overwhelming to Eda! Then Luz brings her friends, and Eda’s not so sure what to think, but she lets them in, she doesn’t want to be downright hostile. She’s cautious, she lets Willow and Gus exist and feels there more Luz’s friends than anything else, they probably have no opinions of her- Don’t complicate the kid’s relationships like that! Then Eda meets Odalia and Alador’s kids… And maybe she’s lowkey afraid of them recognizing and calling her out as a freak; But Amity, Emira, and Edric never do that! Amity goes out of her way to fix her own problems and it’s lowkey relieving that this girl that Luz clearly loves and vice-versa, is no threat to Eda- Though of course Eda would bear a lot of pain for Luz’s sake, you know she would even if Luz would never ask her to do that! The twins even conjure up a giant illusion of Eda that she adores…!

           During Grom, it’s so painful and traumatic to see her cursed form assumed by Grom, and to have those kids look at her- And Eda must be lowkey getting panic attacks from her old memories again, but she bears through and watches so she can keep an eye on Luz, and then comes to the kid’s rescue so that Luz never has to worry about handling an uncomfortable situation without support! And Eda is just so STUNNED by how much Luz is doing for her, that she feels obligated to pay her back, as if Luz’s love isn’t unconditional to Eda and vice-versa… So she makes the Witch’s Wool cloak for Luz- And then when Luz breaks into the Conformatorium for her, Eda is just. SO touched, but concerned???

           You can only imagine how much the pain of Lilith’s betrayal meant- Not just her being the curser, but especially Lilith kidnapping Luz, which is something Eda ALWAYS cites first before reminding Lilith that she cursed her little sister? But regardless this genuine betrayal of family hurts so much, but Eda swallows her pride to beg Lilith to protect Luz or at least keep her from Belos, because her love for Luz overwhelms any hatred she could have for anyone else… And Eda is resigned to her fate. She thinks this is what happens to her, and that Luz made it worthwhile, and maybe only Luz, because Eda underestimates herself.

           Eda thinks she accomplished nothing. She was a rebel but never managed to change the system, and her curse discredited Eda to the public as a ‘savage’ beast. Eda felt like she had SO many unfulfilled dreams, that she was lowkey just taking up space and could never do the good things for this world that she always wanted to, so she always saw herself as just a criminal… Eda felt like all of her efforts against the system were for nothing when her own sister abandoned her for it! She thinks Luz and King are the only valid things about her, Eda relapses into that feeling that she needs to justify her own existence…

           And then Willow and Gus step in. They mostly know Eda through Luz and not much more beyond that… But they VOUCH for her, and surely it’s only because Eda means a lot to Luz herself! Even so Eda is touched, but then… This entire crowd of randos, of utter strangers starts vouching for her? Morton expresses gratitude to Eda, who must’ve thought herself as just another needy customer to him… Principal Bump, who probably has regrets about failing Eda- He straight-up says Eda made him love teaching again? And you KNOW that means so much to Eda, because she has a relationship with wanting to reclaim education on her own terms, free from the Coven System’s influence…

           Eda no doubt has trust issues over being taken advantage of, in regards to her curse, and her need for elixir. Tibbles didn’t exactly help that, so it means a lot to see Morton appreciate what Eda did; Obviously partly as a customer, but there’s a sense that Morton doesn’t just need Eda’s business, he wants her happiness in general out of true gratitude! Even the DEMON HUNTER who captured her in Episode 10, vouches for Eda’s escape! Granted that dude probably didn’t even know that was a person he was capturing and not a mindless beast (granted he has no qualms about murdering children even if he won’t glorify it), and maybe that Demon Hunter is vouching more in opposition to Belos, than an ACTUAL support for Eda herself…

           But still, even this random jerk who persecuted Eda for being cursed, as a beast, who dehumanized her- This former enemy is now vouching for Eda’s personhood, for her right to live and exist! Then you’ve got a bunch of kids who are cheering for Eda too, even kids from high-status families like Skara- You’d think those families would be particularly against Eda, if Odalia and Alador are any indication… But the Blight kids prove that wrong. So does Skara, and then you’ve got some regular students, among them a kid who looked at Eda when he recognized her cursed form during Grom… And Eda’s felt like a freak for so long, so having these innocent kids actually vouch for her, like she’s a role model, like she’s someone to rally around and defend- It means so much! That these strangers don’t care for Eda on a personal level, but on a moral obligation they can’t bear to see her suffer- Just as Eda doesn’t connect with most people, but she defies the Coven System because of what it does to society! Even when the system offered her a place at the top, she refused because she saw others being hurt by it…

           Eda is very much the kind of person who would vouch for an enemy, I feel, if she thinks their mistreatment is coming from a place of injustice, by a cruel system, and is undeserved in this particular scenario. She’d vouch for the rights and personhood of EVERYONE… Even if she’d totally kill them in self-defense for harming her Luz. To Eda, your right to exist is something you really have to work to forfeit through heinous acts and threatening others’ right to exist, instead of being something one must earn- You’re already entitled to it by default! To finally see her ideals be repeated, to have that sentiment echoed through others… After so long of feeling unheard, of feeling like her ideas have been dismissed because of her curse…

           And now people are doing this, while Eda is LITERALLY cursed, right in front of them! She’s taking the form of a monster, but that doesn’t matter to any of these people! The dweebus’ dad even risks his job to let Willow and Gus fight against the system, because he thinks they and Eda make some good points; Or AT LEAST, Eda doesn’t deserve this! Every time Eda’s transformed, it was always a state of vulnerability and trauma where she was hurt and rejected. Even King, her trusted friend, lowkey dehumanized Eda by treating her as a beast to conquer others with (even if he learned his lesson in the end). Whether through Luz or her own actions, which DID affect Luz to begin with, or both… Eda has done something. Eda has actually put something out into this world, and is now receiving back from it so gloriously and kindly.

           It must mean a LOT to her, it must mean so much… And obviously she couldn’t immediately react in the chaos. But afterwards, when things have calmed down and they all have time to recollect their thoughts at the Owl House? It probably struck Eda. To see kids, low-key a symbol of her lost youth, vouch for Eda… To change for the better just as Eda wants this new generation to avoid the trauma of the old one. It gives Eda a sweet hope in the new generation to save things, it gives her even more faith towards Luz, a desire to truly see her do well and propagate… Teenagers, from her first experience transforming, mock and hurt you for the curse even when you’re scared and need help. So it means a lot to Eda to see the situation change, so see Teenagers now being the kind of people who vouch for Eda…

           Because keep in mind, this is all at the risk of Belos’ retaliation! This is an execution specifically propped up as being what Belos himself wants, to the point where he isn’t even going to hide it- He’s going to publicize and broadcast it! These people, kids and adults alike, even Bump who feared Belos because he likely saw his violent rise to power; They’re in the Conformatorium, at the heart of a symbol of Belos’ cruelty. The Emperor’s Coven could lash out at them for this, but they don’t care, because Eda deserves better than this, because ANYBODY deserves better than this, by principle! These people are risking themselves for Eda on the same kind of principle she tried to spread and feared would never be heard…

           And it’s so incredibly validating. That Eda herself made just a change, not only for this specific kid named Luz –and she’d have been content with just that- but even with all these strangers from Bonesborough! Her existence and efforts weren’t for naught, and they expanded well beyond what Eda expected. Eda had resigned herself to never getting the dreams she wanted, and opted to get them for someone else- But now, this gives her hope that maybe Eda CAN live out the dreams she thought she lost, after all! And so when it’s finally tied off with Lilith… With Lilith risking Belos’ wrath, for Eda’s sake- Lilith FINALLY prioritizing her little sister, after all this time?

           Lilith’s betrayal was among the first of Eda’s trauma. Lilith, siding with the Emperor’s Coven when Eda first transformed… It no doubt stuck in Eda’s mind and influenced her feelings of worthlessness a lot. Eda hoped that Lilith could turn around, not just because she loved her sister, because it also made Eda hope that she was lovable, that Lilith could still care for her in return… Which is kind of a parallel to Lilith hoping Eda would join the Emperor’s Coven for her, albeit in a much more compassionate and respectful way, of course! And Eda becomes resigned to Lilith’s rejection as the fundamental truth of how unlovable she is if her own sister rejects her, ESPECIALLY after learning that Lily even cursed her to be beside Belos…

           And now Lilith is changing. Lilith has FINALLY changed, and now has King vouching for her- Luz has no doubt changed Lilith’s heart, and Eda is so indebted to the kid for this… But then she remembers that Luz was influenced by Eda, too. In a sense, it was Eda who indirectly managed to finally change her sister’s heart… Lilith finally realized how much she cared for Eda unconditionally. And Eda is just SO touched, after all these years of pain and abandonment- That she takes the petrification blow for Lilith and King. Probably more for King, with Lilith having to unintentionally benefit from Eda’s cursed girth that SHE caused, but still! It must be an overwhelming series of events- To have Luz and King affirm their love for Eda, to have this entire AUDIENCE of strangers, some of whom aren’t so strange to Eda, vouch for her? For Eda to realize she made a positive impact…

           And now Lilith, the person whose betrayal likely hurt her most? Now even Lilith is vouching for Eda? When it finally settled in, after they all returned to the Owl House? Eda could’ve very easily cried and sobbed intense feelings of relief, of happiness, of validation… And I can see her just letting go of any grudge against Lilith, at least in the moment, because she’s just so happy and grateful for this. That she just wants love and validation, that she doesn’t care to hate- Eda never wanted to hate Lilith, always she wants to regain that lost love between them, and now it’s being offered back! Maybe in calmer moments, Eda will rightfully recall her issues with Lilith… But right now, she’s so happy. Eda’s never felt this relieved and content before, as she hugs Luz and King… It’s like she really COULD die without regrets this time, unlike what she claimed in Agony of a Witch…

          Eda’s at peace with every decision she’s made now, and if given the chance to redo her life, would pick those choices again without hesitation! Eda wouldn’t change a thing, especially not after seeing where it’s gotten her now- Not a single of her own actions, she regrets! And at the same time, Eda’s still got so much more to do, so much more to look forward to! Making up for lost time with Lilith, learning Glyphs alongside Luz… Eda felt like it had already ended, or was in the process of ending- Her own lifespan had been shortened by the curse! But now, NOW, it feels like it’s just begun…! And Eda’s rediscovered that lost passion and hope for the future, that desire to head forward and explore to her heart’s content, to seize opportunities- And she’s just so happy. It just means the world to her, so much, and she’s eternally indebted towards Luz for this, for showing Eda the Light at the end of the tunnel; For getting her out of that dark place of resignation.

           It’s like Eda’s going back in time, almost, to get the life she actually deserved and wanted for herself- And she is taking her chance! She’s not going to forget what she actually went through as an adult of course… But regardless, Edalyn Clawthorne has hope for the future. And not just the future, but for herself as well- It feels like she’s undone and made right her greatest regrets and failures, and now Eda feels the capacity to not just undo mistakes, but to make good… Because she DID make good, she did inspire people! And now Eda is determined to be what she always dreamed of, now that she has the chance to put in the work, and now nobody else can ever take that from her! And she won’t let people take from anyone else, either… What had been possibly the worst night of Eda’s life, was immediately followed by the best one… Not just in years; Maybe the best night in all of Eda’s life, period! And Eda could understand if there will never be a moment as great as this, ever again, because all ensuing moments from now on will still be worth it, especially if it’s with her family… And hey, who’s to say Eda can’t work to make things even better, as is?

           Her confidence in herself to improve, to change the world around her, to make things better for herself and others- Not only has it returned, but it’s been truly validated! And now… now, it’s like a spark has been relit in Eda’s heart, more potent than her lost bile magic, and Eda can finally unapologetically be herself and fully pursue what she wanted, without anyone else to drag her down! Screw you Belos- Eda feels like she practically has the entire world behind her back! Fitting, given the possibility of the Titan siding with Luz… And ironic, given how Belos claimed it was the Titan’s will to spare Eda!

          Maybe Belos WAS right about that in the end, and never even realized it… And being validated by the wilderness Eda loved and found solace in when there was nobody else to reassure her, the wilderness that inspired and defined her? To be told it was real, that it felt Eda’s attention and that it was touched by it in return? To do for Nature, after Nature did so much for her? Finally earning others’ respect for nature by getting them to challenge the Coven System’s loathsome rejection to wild magic… That there really was always somebody listening, that Eda was never wrong, and even on her own, she was still valid? That the world will never be against her, it too wants the best?

           Eda’s life really has turned around. She was on the trajectory for what she thought would be a meaningless, unnoticed end, isolated from all others, forgotten even by the Coven System, with Belos not caring for Eda until she had the portal. But now it’s changed around, and Luz’s Light has shown her that in many regards, Eda’s life really was already that valid as she claimed, after all! And now, it’s like Eda can do anything… She knows who she is and can truly trust in that, now. The Owl House was an environment where people could finally be themselves- And after all this time, its most long-lasting and famous resident can enjoy this comfort at home for herself.

          An unimaginable burden has been lifted from Eda’s shoulders, and now she feels freer than she’s ever been- And now she can truly love herself, not just in the present, but every moment in the past. Eda can fully, intensely self-love, and from there, her love of others can only flourish and bloom- And for Luz, it’s pretty intense as-is! Eda’s making new connections… All that went wrong has gone right, and Eda can safely be reassured that she doesn’t just owe it to others for this- She owes it to HERSELF as well, that Eda’s own efforts and struggles paid off in the end! 

          Eda made her own life not just better, she made it great from the very beginning, she truly defined herself, and applied those principles of determining one’s fate, to herself, and not just to others. Eda was a mentor to many, but now she gets to be the apprentice who learns and benefits after all this time- Not just from her own lessons, but from Luz’s as well! Eda did make a change, she really did… And I wouldn’t be surprised by a major shift in Eda’s mood from now on, in how she interacts with others and strangers, as she becomes even more open, and unapologetically herself, and openly loving with those hugs that Luz taught, or reminded her, of…

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house luz #luz noceda #meta

[littlegalerion]

Recently was working on some custom Expedition cards, specifically for a werewolf class. After realizing that half the cards were buffs that benefited your party in some shape or form, it got me thinking more about werewolf socialization, in DnD and in Elder Scrolls. Sadly werewolves in DnD are very different from TES, but in TES at least I have a bit more room with them as the bloodlust isn't as bad.

Poor DnD wolfies. I'll definately need to create an "evil" lycan character at some point for sessions.

Anyhow, some werewolf socialization/romance headcanons for TES woofers.

- A Pack consists of both a werewolf's blood family or of those they've personally bitten, then bringing into their ranks. Often lycans opt out of interacting with people in general, so it isn't uncommon that they start a family with another packmate.

- For lycans that have a spouse outside of the pack, it's usually frowned upon if the pack is kept a secret. It's seen as disrespectful as, under Hircine's word, the pack is your family first. With blood family it's understandable to hide- you can't choose who brought you into this world. But you can choose who you brought into your world, and if you chose them, then they should have no issue with your pack mates.

- It is a BIG no no to take a spouse from another pack, even if there is no friction between your two packs whatsoever. You either leave your pack and join theirs, or they leave and join yours. There are no "star crossed lovers" allowed. A pack is a unit, meant to have strong ties so that their hunts are fluid and successful every night. How can your packmates trust your head is in the game if your heart lies within another pack?

- Usually marriages between two packmates consist of the couple leaving for the night to hunt together, alone, in an unfamiliar territory. No worries, your packmates have already scouted the area, once the couple has decided where they want to hunt. So no threats of Silver Dawn. Everything else the wilds have to offer in terms of danger still remain. The couple hunt together, and in the morning bring back as much as they can carry. This provides a "Sunrise Feast", symbolizing the dawn of a new life together which their packmates celerabete with them. After that, rings are exchanged, if even desired.

- When packmates do have children, be it with another packmate or with a partner outside of the pack, the pack is non hostile towards them. Unless they are the offspring of two packmates, it's highly suggested they do not interact with the pack until in their teens. By "not hostile" it's more so that the pack isn't angry nor do they consider the child a threat to sapping away their packmate's attention. They genuinely hope the child grows to one day accept Hircine's blessing, and join their pack. But...it isn't wise to have a child waltz in around whelp and seasoned lycans. I think the one questline in Skyrim can answer why.

- If the child is born by two packmates, it's accepted into the pack earlier. I mean, what choice would they have if both parents live with the pack 24/7. In order to keep the baby safe, seasoned members, including the alpha, of the pack often accompany the parents, and form a very strong godparent bond to the child. They force it on themselves, physically and mentally. They have to see the child as theirs, in terms of territory, for fear their bloodlust could gain an inch. They take the slightest wrong glance at the child by any pack member as a threat and will give that individual a thrashing. Nothing that bone breaking, but bad enough that they'll feel it for a week. It may seem extreme, but enforcing the mindset that the baby is a part of their territory and pack is a necessity that HAS to be constantly reinforced on the daily. It's for the baby's safety.

- This kind of behavior goes on for a while, until the child reaches preteens, but sometimes it dies out sooner than that. It all depends when the child shows a more pronounced nature, and displays interest and active support to the pack. In which case, they pack begins to see them as a member naturally. But still, the seasoned members keep careful watch.

- I know the big question: When is the child bitten? Well, the answer you would think would be "Right away, as soon as they could survive the bite." Like how the assassin in the ESO DB was forced to drink lycan blood by her family at a young age? Well, perhaps in the more ruthless packs, but not among proper packs that actually want to stay in existance for more than four seasons before the Silver Dawn find them!

- In a structured lycan pack, children are bitten or allowed to drink lycan blood once they reach their teen years. This is done through a ceremony to Hircine, where the teen must be old enough to hunt on their own, bring back an impressive kill, and present it before Hircine. This proves their worth as a potential lycan hunter, and Hircine will then allow his hounds to give them a bite, or let the teen drink of lycan blood.

- Typically it is the parent or alpha who gives the bite. If going for the blood route, it is always the alpha that donates their blood.

- To be a true lycan, a true hunter and beast of the wild, NEVER forget that what Hircine has given you was a choice you made. To force it upon another individual who could potentially soil and disgrace the blessing is a whelp's mistake. Any grown lycan knows better. For those born with the gift, well, then it wasn't something you chose, but it definately chose you, as such things are rare. But most any structured pack would welcome in such a rarity, and prove what a blessing it is. Regardless, no child is forced to take the gift. Pressured and expected to? Yes. But never outright forced.

#elder scrolls lycanthropy #ever played expedition? #its a soft version of dnd thats a card game #very soft and super simple and tons of fun #my friend and I are to the point we want to keep custom card decks for personally made characters #i think its around 20 bucks on amazon #also when I said I need to make an 'evil' lycan dnd character? #i had to say evil because Raloqen is tech a lycan #lythari are 'true' lycans #they lack a hybrid form but morph from elf to wolf and are in complete control as a wolf #are they elves? or wolves? the answer is yes

[thecircusmonstereight]

Demon Hunter and Witch (FrUK)

A little ficlet based on an RP that @gohe1090 and I had a while ago. ^v^; A medieval AU where Francis is a Demon Hunter and Alice is a demon witch, please enjoy~

The townspeople called her a witch which wasn’t true. At least not completely. She certainly lived like one and dressed like one. Her wide brimmed hat and flowing sleeves and mostly dark clothing certainly gave the impression. She sold potions and magical trinkets at her stall in town as well. Certainly it makes sense why they called her a witch. In a way it is fitting, witches are said to have made deals with demons in exchange for power. However in Alice’s case, she is the demon. A demon who hides her horns and tail with her hat and long skirts. She doesn’t want to scare away potential customers after all. She sets up her stall in the town square, displaying her latest potions and enchanted trinkets. For the most part, Alice wanted to live peacefully among the humans and being considered a witch by them was convenient. Her talents are easily explained away and they get medicines and good luck charms in exchange for coins. It’s an agreeable arrangement. 

Occasionally, Alice would receive a particular customer. The sort of people would ask for exliers of eternal life, potions that change lead to gold. The sort of people who keep asking for things and horde them to themselves. These people Alice has qualms about slowly increasing the price, until she gets them to promise their souls. The souls of the greedy are used to increase her powers. She does have one such customer, who keeps on demanding she make more of her lead to gold mixtures. Perhaps he’ll be next if he keeps up this path. He does seem desperate to keep adding to his fortune.  

“Well hello there~” a French accented voice breaks her out thoughts. A man was leaning on against the wooden stall. His fair wavy hair tied back into a low ponytail with a bow. He wore simple but neat cotton clothing with light leather armor and wore a flowing cloak with a pretty silver floral brooch. He pushes his bangs from his face. He was certainly handsome and Alice finds herself briefly speechless. 

“Oh, is there something here that caught your

 fancy?” She says finally finding her voice, tilting her wide brimmed hat to hide the blush blooming on her face. 

“Well I’ve just been browsing around, talking to the locals” He picks up a trinket and looks it over, and glaces at her. “You happen to hear about a little troublemaker around here that’s been making ‘deals’ with passerbys in the area?” There is an air of causality in his voice but he does seem to be watching her carefully. 

“Oh? I-I haven’t heard anything about that” she says with a fake smile trying to hide her growing nervousness. “Is there some kind of scam going on?” She looks him over trying to sense his intent, but his pretty face is very distracting. No, don't focus on that!

He reaches over and cups her chin so that they make eye contact. Alice can’t help but notice how blue his eyes are. 

“No~ It’s more like there’s someone causing trouble for the poor people and I’m here to help them” He smiles warmly. “You sure you haven’t seen anything suspicious in any way? A shifty eyed fellow? A person out of the ordinary? Possibly a...” He leans in closer to her face “.. demon~?” 

Alice feels her heart jump wildly as her face flushes a much deeper crimson realizing how close his face is to hers. She freezes, her heart about to leap out of her chest. But his questions about the demon brings her up guard once more. She pulls away crossing her arms. “I have heard nothing of the sort, besides I only heard of trouble being brought down on the extremely greedy..” She said with a slight huff. She feels slightly insulted, she has standards. She would never want to bring harm on innocent people. 

     “Oh is that so? And where are you hearing this sort of thing from?” The man asks with a laugh as he backs off a little. He’s amused by her reaction, still maintaining his friendly manner. Alice isn’t sure whether he suspects anything. 

“Oh, erm, I heard plenty of gossip and rumors in the market” she says hurriedly.  Oh god why does he have such a nice laugh. She tugs on the brim of her hat trying to cover up her face and glances to the side. She lets out an annoyed huff, certain that her cheeks from annoyance, not at all getting flustered by the pretty man before her.  She hears a laugh and the Frenchman pokes her nose, returning her attention to him. 

“So, how much?” He holds up a necklace with a stone pendant, one of the many trinkets she had on display.

She squeaks in surprise, pulled out of her thoughts. She clears her throat before answering. 

“Oh that. That will be 20 silver, it’s a good luck charm” She tries to keep a causal tone but oh god it feels like the blush is going to be permanent on her face!

“Ha ha You’re adorable you know” He laughs as he reaches into his leather pouch he has on his side. He pulls and counts the needed silver and takes her hand. “Thank you for the trinket and the conservation” He adds before he kisses her hand and places the silver into it. “Au revoir ma chou~” He smiles and gives her wink and wave before walking off into the crowd in the town square. Alice finds herself even more flustered. She tries to not think about the compliment and the hand kiss as she manages to return a smile and a wave. She promptly face palms trying to get her emotions in check. Stop acting like a loon over him. You know he’s looking for a demon. 

But it’s too late, she’s already an embarrassed mess. She busies herself with putting away the coins into her lockbox on the bottom shelf of her stall. Alice tries her best to put the thoughts of the charming man away but they still linger.

#hetalia au #hetalia world stars #Axis Powers Hetalia #nyotalia #nyo england #hetalia france #fruk #francexfem!england #fem england #aph france #my writing #my fics

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s Loki Episode 3: MCU Easter Eggs and References

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This article contains Marvel’s Loki episode 3 spoilers.

Marvel’s Loki episode 3 is a big one. It’s the first episode of the series to spend the entirety of its runtime outside of the TVA offices, the first where we get to spend a substantial amount of time with the mysterious Sylvie, and the coolest visit to an extraterrestrial location we’ve had in the MCU since Avengers: Endgame.

It’s a big one, and there’s lots of cool MCU things you might have missed, or might not know about from the pages of Marvel Comics…and more!

Here’s what we found in Marvel’s Loki episode 3. 

Lamentis

The planet Lamentis was introduced in the pages of Annihilation: Conquest Prologue (the very story that established the modern incarnation of the Guardians of the Galaxy). It exists on the outer rim of the Kree empire and is filled with scavengers trying to gather scarce resources via force. The Phyla-Vell version of Quasar and Moondragon were there to help keep the peace, mainly protecting a sect of pacifist priests from those who would take their stuff.

But to be clear, the events of Loki episode 3 take place on Lamentis-1, a moon of Lamentis, and it’s the planet itself that is breaking up and crashing into the moon, not the other way around.

Interestingly, while the lighting choices for this episode were most definitely a very specific story choice (more on that in a minute), it’s also in keeping with the way Lamentis was colored in its only comic book appearance.

Sylvie, Lady Loki, The Enchantress

We don’t get a TON of clarity on the nature of Sophia Di Martino’s Loki variant, but despite her “Sylvie” name, the balance is tipping further in the direction of her being a true “Lady Loki” and not strictly the Sylvie Lushton version of Enchantress from Marvel Comics (we wrote more about this confusing distinction here).

That being said, she’s not NOT Sylvie/Enchantress, either! It seems that Sylvie is indeed a variant Loki (recent merchandise reveals have officially shown that she is “Sylvie Laufeydottir” (as opposed to “Loki Laufeyson”)  so that’s another sign that she’s truly a variant of our Loki. For some reason (probably a good one) she doesn’t want to be known as a Loki anymore, hence “Sylvie,” and she does use enchantments as a primary power, hence “Enchantress.”

So the answer here is still “yes” to any of these questions, but we’re leaning on the simplest explanation being the correct one: she’s a Loki variant, and in true MCU fashion they’re just mashing up other elements of mythology from the comics to make a cool new character.

There’s also some serious Moonlighting energy between the hedonistic Loki and the more serious and on-mission Sylvie all through this episode, but we’re wondering how many of you are even old enough to remember Moonlighting, and that is depressing. 

The Loki/Enchantress-appropriate green tie-dye that Sylvie is rocking in the bar “flashback” is pretty cool, but not an Easter egg. But maybe we should bring tie-dye back this summer.

Loki is Bisexual

The “bisexual lighting” that Lamentis is bathed in throughout the entirety of the episode is no accident, as it’s revealed that both Loki and Sylvie are bisexual. Loki director Kate Herron spoke briefly about this reveal on Twitter, as well:

From the moment I joined @LokiOfficial it was very important to me, and my goal, to acknowledge Loki was bisexual. It is a part of who he is and who I am too. I know this is a small step but I’m happy, and heart is so full, to say that this is now Canon in #mcu #Loki 💗💜💙 pic.twitter.com/lz3KJbewx8

— Kate Herron (@iamkateherron) June 23, 2021

As far as we can tell, in terms of the comics, Loki’s bisexuality first came up in Young Avengers #15. After saving the world and getting a bit of a pep talk from Prodigy, a late-teen incarnation of Loki hit on his teammate for the sake of celebration, but was ultimately turned down.

“My culture doesn’t really share your concept of sexual identity,” Loki said in that issue. “There are sexual acts, that’s it. I’m actually the patron god of certain popular ones, believe it or not.” (some very cursory research fails to confirm that last point, which would really be perfectly in keeping for Loki to lie about)

“Another!”

When partying up on the train, Loki smashes his empty glass and excitedly asks for another. This is exactly what his brother does in the first Thor movie after enjoying a cup of coffee at a diner. It’s an Asgardian custom!

The Songs

The song that opens the episode is “Demons” by Hayley Kiyoko, which also includes some potentially Loki-specific lines as “Please forgive me, I’ve got demons in my head, tryin’ to eat me, tryin’ to feed me lies until I’m dead.”

The song that closes the episode is “Dark Moon,” a 1957 country hit by Bonnie Guitar (there are other versions, including a rare one by Elvis Presley and a really cool one by Chris Isaak for the soundtrack of the very cool and underrated A Perfect World, but the version here is Bonnie’s). It’s a little on-the-nose with the events happening on Lamentis, but also features haunting lyrics that may hint at something more: “Mortals have dreams of love’s perfect schemes, but they don’t realize that love will sometimes bring a…Dark Moon.”

Does anyone know the name of the song that Loki sings while he’s “full?” If so, please let us know in the comments!

The TVA

The mobile devices that TVA agents use to navigate through timelines are given a name in this episode: TemPads. 

We get a couple more bits of important TVA context this episode. The first is that apparently the Time Keepers reside at the top floor accessible by a golden elevator in the TVA offices. When Hunter C-20 said she “gave up the location” of the Time Keepers last week, who could have expected the answer to be so simple?

Additionally, Sylvie reveals at episode’s end that all TVA employees had a life prior to joining the TVA. In fact, every TVA worker was at some point a Variant just like Loki and Sylvie. This directly contradicts Miss Minutes’ claim that the TVA employees were created by the Time Keepers to police the Sacred Timeline. This may mean that Mobius was also lying to Loki about the nature of TVA agents…UNLESS…in the comics, Mobius was one of many Mobiuses, because the TVA engaged in “managerial cloning” for their best representatives, while employing “freelancers” for other work. Perhaps Mobius was telling Loki his truth, while Sylvie’s theory about the Variants being conscripted into service as Minutemen is ALSO true.

During the end credits, there’s a collection of TVA file photos on a desk, showing Loki and Sylvie together. Apparently, they’re getting their images from their exploits from Lamentis-1, as one photo is specifically Loki as a train guard. Looks like these two aren’t as hidden from the authorities as they realized.

Miscellaneous Time Variants

Funny enough, the shot of Loki landing after being thrown out of the train is framed to look exactly like when Loki fell out of Doctor Strange’s portal in Thor: Ragnarok.

The two soldiers at the entrance to the train are called Corporal Hicks and Private Hudson which is a neat nod to Michael Biehn and Bill Paxton’s characters in Aliens!

The guards on Lamentis look kind of like they’re wearing Cobra uniforms, don’t they?

There’s a serious Snowpiercer vibe to that “rich folks getting on a train to escape a natural disaster/apocalypse while the poor are left to suffer and die.” Wait, that is actually a real life vibe, too.

If episode 2 was a police procedural, this episode is very much “peak TV,” right down to its use of an obscure needledrop to end the episode coming out of an elaborate “one take” action sequence. Daredevil no longer has a monopoly on those in Marvel TV, it would seem.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Spot something we missed? Let us know in the comments!

The post Marvel’s Loki Episode 3: MCU Easter Eggs and References appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[retroateez]

bandit king - s.mingi

hello!!! literally nobody wanted this but i’ve written it anyway and actually?? i quite enjoyed writing a character like this. i hope you enjoy! if you do, please like or any other way of letting me know!

// Apocalypse!AU  Borderlands x Ateez AU Bandit King!Mingi x Vault Hunter!Reader I guess this is kind of??? angst // I’ve tried my best to write a gender neutral reader, but if i’ve slipped up anywhere please tell me and i’ll change it ASAP. Warnings; mentions of blood, death (murder), guns, graphic descriptions of violence and explicit language. if i’ve missed anything that may potentially be triggering, please message me and i will add it to this list. wc;4642

// 

“Strip the flesh! Salt the wound!” 

You aim your radiated Maliwan shotgun at the psycho who was hurtling towards you, screeching nonsense at the top of his lungs. Without blinking an eye, you pull the trigger and watch the shell plunge into his chest, knocking him to the floor in an instant. You lower your gun, and stand frozen in your position.

Wait for it…

His skinny frame is launched thirty meters into the air with an explosion that leaves your ears ringing. A toxic, mustard-coloured cloud trails after him as he flies upwards, then rolls over his corpse when he lands with a dull thump.

You had always favoured Maliwan’s range of elemental shotguns. 

With a sigh, you sling the gun into its holster on your back, and step over the dead psycho with a small smirk.

One down, plenty more to go.

-----

Tracking the Bandit King had proven much more of a challenge than your contractor had initially let on. Bringing you from your home planet to the run-down, wasteland named Pandora, you’d travelled far and wide looking for them. Rife with rival gun manufacturers, various bandit clans and ‘ordinary’ civilians just trying to survive, your particular maniac could be anywhere. You didn’t know much about him except for his name; Inferno. It was a stupid name, for an equally stupid leader of a stupid bandit gang, but you were promised a substantial amount of pay for his murder, so he could call himself whatever he wanted; he would be dead soon.

However, the night was quickly approaching, and you’d been driving through the dusty Pandoran plains for far too long, so you pull up to the next bar you come across. You park your sandy brown Outrunner to the left of the tavern and walk towards the entrance.

‘The Blood Bucket’ flickers in a blinding, neon purple above the crimson stained double doors. A fine establishment for some fine patronage, you presume. 

With a kick of your steel-toed boot, the doors swing open and a hush falls over the customers almost immediately; it’s not everyday they witness a vault hunter so out in the open.

“Ain’t no vault here, you scumbag!” a hoarse voice calls out from the crowd of drunks, and the rest of them break out into laughter.

You reach down and slightly withdraw your Vladof pistol from your hip, the crowd falling silent once more as you inch it out of it’s holster and clutch it in your hand. All eyes are on you as you approach the bar, and although you’re used to the staring and scowling from random people, it’ll always make you nervous. Not that you would ever show weakness, as a vault hunter, you’d sooner die than let anyone believe they had an advantage over you. 

“A bed for the night?” You ask the bartender, although it comes out more as a demand than a question.

You can see by the way his lip curls up in disgust that he isn’t best pleased about having you, a murderer, thief and all-round terrible person who galivants across the galaxy facading as a hero, standing before him in his bar. But he knows how ruthless vault hunters are, how cold-hearted they can be and he’s aware that you can put a bullet between his eyes quicker than he can say “skin pizza”. 

So he reluctantly points to his right, indicating to a set of rickety looking stairs, to which you assume the rooms are. You nod in thanks and make your way over to the steps, ignoring the glares from everyone else in the bar. Hurrying up them, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and unclench your fists from their stiff positions by your side. The tensest parts of these contracts were never committing the murder itself, it was always the journey getting there that made you anxious to your core.

Admittedly, you’d grown accustomed to your lifestyle, even if you had no choice. It was a dog-eat-dog universe, and you’d built yourself into a powerful lone wolf. Yet there were always bigger beasts out there, no matter how hard you trained or how many people you killed. It would probably never be enough, but for the time being, you had no other choice; you had to slaughter, or run the risk of being slaughtered yourself.

-----

The next morning, you wake early and wash the dried blood out of your hair from the day before. You sit on the (surprisingly comfortable) bed and pull out the contractor’s instructions from your bag. Skimming over the pages for the millionth time, you study Inferno’s face one more time. 

You’d been hired to take out countless enemies for countless rich idiots, but there was something different about him, and you hated to admit it; but he was ridiculously handsome. One of the documents given to you was an old, faded ‘wanted’ poster, featuring a photograph of the bandit king himself. Judging by the photo’s setup, you guessed it was a mugshot of sorts, as Inferno is standing, facing the camera and holding a sign. Typically, there would be a name written on the board that the criminals hold, but this one has been scratched out, presumably to hide his identity. Whoever crossed that name out, wants Inferno’s real name kept quiet. You can relate though; you don’t go by your real name either. Nicknames are so much safer to use, especially on this wasteland of a planet. 

You stare down into his hooded eyes in the photograph, responding to his stagnant smirk with a frown of your own. The height markers behind him indicate a healthy six feet and you wonder how somebody so good-looking managed to become the crazed ruler of a bunch of lunatics. You imagine his wildly curly hair is an obnoxious red, the blood spatters on your documents covering the sepia tones of the photo and giving him quite a nice hair colour. 

The longer you inspect his face, the more and more you start to feel for him. It’s a foreign feeling, sympathy. You don’t like it. You hate that you think he could’ve become more, become something better than a murderous clan leader. Because this mugshot is clearly old, from a time before he was totally corrupted by blood-lust and greed. From before he could solve anything and everything with the pull of a trigger. And you realise it’s because this young, up-and-coming bandit king in the photograph reminds you of yourself. Before you were forced into fending for yourself and transforming into somebody deep down you were ashamed of, but realistically you had no choice. And it was likely that your next victim had no choice either. Nobody did. Not on Pandora. Not anywhere.

Abruptly, you stuff the documents deep inside your backpack and then haul it over your shoulders. Grabbing your shotgun and pistol and hiding them inside their holsters, you feel that same rush flood over you as it does everytime you pick up a gun. It’s similar to an unwavering calmness, a complete opposite to how any other ordinary person would be if they were to clutch a huge Maliwan shotgun to their chest.  You pick up the new, DAHL SMG that’s leaning by the door and twist it around in your hands. Aptly named ‘Night Hawkin’, it switches from shooting pyro bullets to cryo (ice) bullets depending on the time of day, and you figure that Inferno is the perfect test-subject for your new toy.

Once you’ve gathered your few belongings, you march downstairs to pay the innkeeper. 

“Five Eridium bars?!” you snap. “You didn’t say anything about Eridium fees.”

The innkeeper raises his smug little face at you and you resist all urges to pistol whip him across the room. 

“I figured a vault hunter like you would have no trouble paying up,” he spits. “After all, you like to gloat about how much you rob from those vaults, right?”

“Two bars.” you bargain. He’s right, truthfully. You do have the money, more than enough actually, to pay him the full five, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Four bars,” he pauses for a second and eyes you from his side of the bar. “Four, and I’ll tell you where your bandit lover-boy is.”

You freeze. How did he know-

“You don’t think I check on the people who stay here?” his smirk grows and you realise he’s got you in the palm of his hand. He has information that, providing he was telling you the truth, could be extremely helpful. You’re also pretty bewildered that he went through your things while you were sleeping too, but now is not the time to unravel all of that.

“Fine.” you grumble. “But information first, payment second.”

The barkeep fixes his gaze on you for a few moments before crossing his arms and leaning forwards. He lowers his voice, despite the bar being relatively empty.

“You’ll find him at The Devil’s Footstool,” he mumbles. “Just north of The Salt Flats.”

“I thought that was Hyperion territory?” you question. Hyperion, one of the most influential weapon manufacturers and businesses this side of the galaxy had reign over the majority of Pandora. Naturally, you despised Hyperion and everything they stood for; a corrupt, power-driven company who stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. Butchering thousands of innocent lives for their own benefit. You loathed Hyperion.

The innkeeper shrugs.

“Inferno and his bandit followers waltzed in not so long ago like they owned the place,” he explained. “Not Hyperion anymore.”

You nodded, opting not to say anything else. Reaching into your bag, you pull out the four violet bars and hand them over to the innkeeper, unimpressed at having to fork out such a ridiculous amount.

It didn’t matter though, because the information he had just given you could save you days, even weeks in completing the contract. Even if it turned out he was lying out of his ass, you might still be able to find something at The Devil’s Footstool regardless. If not, you knew where he lived, and there was a brand-new shotgun with his name on it that you were just itching to try out.

You sling the backpack over your shoulder again, mumble a ‘thank you’ to the barkeep and make your exit. Jumping into the driver’s seat of your vehicle, and heaving the bag into the passenger seat, you prepare yourself for the endless journey through the boiling heat and dust. You hated it here.

-----

Five hours later, you finally arrive at your destination; The Salt Flats. Stocking up before embarking on tracking Inferno down for the final time was a very good idea, so you pulled into a small town just on the outskirts of The Salt Flats. You’d be in luck if the inhabitants (if there were any) weren’t hostile, but you weren’t planning on staying long. Luckily, you manage to find a nearby ammunitions vending machine, so you spend a good fifteen minutes buying shells, bullets, grenades, anything you think you might need to send Inferno’s cult of weirdos sprawling. 

 Also, what kind of dumbass name was Inferno?

There were so many crazy individuals spread across the planet but you’d never get over some of the stupid names they chose for themselves. One of the most absurd characters being King Wee Wee, a bandit lord in New Haven. You’d yet to find anyone dumber than him. But on Pandora, you’d probably find them soon enough.

Shaking your head and double-checking your bag is tightly secured, you throw it into the back of the Outrunner. But before you can jump into the driver’s seat, you freeze.

You squint into the distance, almost as if blinding yourself momentarily will make your hearing clearer. And somehow it works, the faint sound of rushing footsteps nearing closer and closer. The grunting and wheezy breaths immediately signal out to you; there’s a psycho nearby. And he’s not happy that you’re here. 

The slim, weirdly ripped frame whips around the corner, bolting out from behind an abandoned car. His mask covers his entire face, and you’ve dealt with psychos millions of times before, but the blank, expressionless masks always chilled you to the bone.

“You’re gonna be my new meat bicycle!” he screeches at you, before hurling himself over the hood of the car and sprinting full-speed towards you, waving some sort of nailed bat above his head. 

Instinctively, you withdraw your pistol and before you can even blink, there’s a deafening bang! and the hideous screaming stops, leaving the psycho as nothing more than a bloody, crumpled heap on the dirty ground. Catchihg your breath, you watch the pool of crimson seep across the earth below your feet, and put the pistol back by your hip. No matter how quick your reflexes were, psychos would always manage to scare the living shit out of you. It was their odd, unsettling catchphrases more than anything. They stuck to wild, close-range combat, so anybody with a gun would easily defeat one. But when they threaten to turn your face into pepperoni? That’s when you’re caught off guard.

You hop into your car, turning the engine and pressing on the gas as hard as you can. Eager to get out of this town in fear of what else might come barreling around corners and out of alleyways.

Yet it’s in your haste that you fail to see the tattoo inked onto the psycho’s body. You overlook the dark outline of the bursting flames on his torso, something you’ll end up wishing you hadn’t  missed.

-----

Crouching behind a semi-blown up road-block, you’re just outside of Inferno’s compound. After scouting the area, you were certain that nobody was patrolling the areas outside. You wondered how Inferno had managed to seize The Devil’s Footstool from Hyperion. The central focus of the area was a massive arena, where you assumed Hyperion personnel would train. What did Inferno want with a fighting arena?

It was suspicious too, how there was not another living soul out here with you. You supposed that maybe there was a meeting going on inside the building attached to the stadium, one where literally everybody had to present for? Although psychos could barely tell apart their own limbs from hotdogs, so if there was an important gathering, it’s unlikely they’d be invited.

Still, you keep your guard up, head down and make your way towards the building. As you gain on the entrance, you hear the roaring of engines rise up into the air; there must be a race in the arena. But the track is behind the main building, and you can’t see or access it from here. So the only option is to go through the building. 

With one hand clutching your pistol, you slope around the left of the building, deciding that going through the front doors would be stupidly reckless, instead looking for a side door. Alternatively, you locate a window, which conveniently is already open. You peer inside, scanning what appears to be a study or an office, with nothing but a wooden desk and a chair in the middle. 

You should’ve sensed that something was off because of how empty the room was; offices should have shelves, plants, bits of paper everywhere, right? 

However, you think nothing of it, continuing to hoist the window up and combat roll into the room. You stand up immediately, about to reach behind you and grab the shotgun slung across your back but suddenly, an arm flies in front of you, wrapping around your throat with your chin buried in the crevice of their elbow. You dig your nails into their forearm, your vision firmly planted onto the tattoo shaped like a burst of flames on his arm. Caught off guard, you don’t make the connection in your head between the tattoo and the obvious.

“Hello,” a deep voice purrs into your ear, causing goosebumps across your entire body. “I’ve been expecting you.”

-----

The barrel of his assault rifle presses painfully against your spine, and his bicep is squeezing against your jugular so hard you think you might pass out. You bite your bottom lip harshly to stay quiet, and to ground yourself. Panicking now is the last thing you want.

“It’s not everyday a vault hunter comes tumbling through my office window.” you feel him smirk against your ear and you curse yourself for not checking the room properly.

“Where’s Inferno?” you demand. “I have business with him.”

“Business?” he echoes, easing his grip on your neck a little, but still restricting almost all of your movement. “Are you sure? I don’t recall him having any business to attend to today.”

You attempt to twist your head around to look at him, but he catches your chin in his hand which thankfully, removes the pressure from your neck. But now he’s tightly gripping your face and you can feel his fingers press against your teeth through your cheek.

“Tsk tsk,” he reprimands you, tutting into your hair. “Face forward. If you agree to behave, I’ll take you to Inferno and you can handle this so-called ‘business’”. 

Nodding, (or at least, as best as you can with his vice-grip on your jaw), you agree. The gun is still prodding into your spine, and with the way he’s towering over you, there’s no way you could possibly escape from this. 

So you allow him to march you through the building, reverting back to having his forearm basically crush your windpipe, causing you both to shuffle awkwardly through the hallways. He leads you up three flights of stairs, multiple twists and turns, (the building definitely didn’t look this big from the outside), until he bustles you into a random room at the end of another, identical hallway. 

Only when you’re inside and he’s checked the door is locked, does he retract his grip and move away.

You swivel around the second he lets go, retrieving the pistol and aiming it out in front of you. The sight before you shocks you to your stomach, and you almost drop the small firearm.

Inferno himself is standing right there, the smuggest grin on his stupid face. His eyes are hooded, yet still sparkling mischievously with his gaze fixed directly on you. Taller than you thought he was too, you have to look up a fair amount to meet his stare. He has a sharp, narrow nose that suits the rest of his face and a few, prominent freckles splattered over his cheeks like blood. What strikes you the most is his hair. Curly, wild, and obnoxiously red. So the blood on the paper was right.

“Hi, darling.” he drawls. “Expecting somebody else?”

He’s rolling the Night Hawkin submachine gun in his hands, inspecting it from the stock to the magazine with an impressed pout. He flicks the manual switch between pyro ammunition and cryo, and chuckles shortly at the icy bullets.

“Nice weapon,” he compliments you. “Let me guess, DAHL? Those bastards love to make guns that make my life difficult.”

His playful tone irks you, and you scowl angrily at him. Not only has he stolen your brand-new weapon, he’s playing mind games with you. It’s just a shame that you’re  playing yourself right into his hands. Inferno raises an eyebrow at your silence.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teases. “That’s okay, I’ll do the talking.”

Making no reply, you keep your pistol aimed at him, thanking the gods that your arms aren’t trembling the same way your breath is. 

He paces around the room, slowly making a circle around you and you’re forced to spin on the spot to keep your gun aimed at his head. He’s still smirking, even as he begins to speak.

“You’re here to kill me, correct?” he nods in acknowledgment as you confirm that yes, you are in fact here to murder him. “I thought so.”

“You see, I have a slight problem with that,” he continues, strolling over to the window and glancing at the blazing sun outside. “It’s beautiful weather outside today, and I’d really prefer not to die and miss out on topping up my tan.”

What?

You don’t even know how to reply to that, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity to do so.

“Not only would you be murdering me on a wonderfully hot afternoon, you’d be committing yet another crime against me. And what have I done to you, vault hunter?” he fake pouts, and you catch yourself before you feel sympathy creep back in.

But what did he mean ‘another’ crime? You haven’t met him before now. Murder contracts are nothing personal; you’re simply the messenger.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?” he’s in front of you before you can even register his fingers curled underneath your chin, tilting your head up to glare dead into his eyes. The tip of your pistol is pressing into his chest, just right of his heart. Yet he doesn’t appear fazed at all. 

“Let me jog your memory.” he murmurs, fanning hot air all over your face. 

In an instant, he’s seized your pistol, wrenching it from your hold and spun you around so your back is leaning against his chest. You can feel his jaw resting on the top of your head, and the way he moves round to your right, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear like before.

“Not so long ago, I believe you had an encounter with a very good friend of mine.” husky voice eerily calm, you hate to admit that you’re terrified.

You’re used to dealing with the most insane individuals the planet has to offer, but there’s something human in him. Something so raw that it’s thrown you completely off balance. There was absolutely nothing in the universe that could have prepared you for a bandit king who wasn’t completely crazy. For someone who reminded you of yourself, somebody who was trying to survive in this barren, apocalyptic wasteland, albeit through entirely immoral means. 

“My friend is dead now, thanks to you.” there’s no bitterness or even anger lacing his words, and you’re conflicted on whether he’s furious or grateful.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you exhale, finding your voice eventually. 

“Oh? The vault hunter speaks!” he feigns surprise, but the arm you hadn’t even noticed wrapped around your waist squeezes you closer into him.

You truly had no idea what he was on about though. You’d killed a lot of people, although you’d spent the majority of the day driving, so unless you’d accidentally fallen asleep at the wheel and taken part of an unconscious hit and run, you were clueless.

“The town just outside of The Salt Flats,” he snaps, losing his temper with you. You feel his chest rise and fall as he recollects himself, and you wonder how short his fuse must be. “Steve only wanted to show you his new bicycle.”

Bicycle?

“That psycho was your friend?” you blurt out.

“Steve was my second-in-command,” Inferno mumbles into your ear. “And you put a bullet in his head. I don’t appreciate that one little bit, vault hunter.” as he finishes his sentence, he raises his free arm and plants the barrel of your pistol to your forehead, the cold metal a cool change to your burning skin. 

“I don’t like it when people mess with my things.” he growls lowly. “I also don’t like having to find new second-in-commands.”

“You’ve got plenty of lunatics to choose from.” you whisper.

“No. I don’t think any of them are fit for the job, you see.” he retorts immediately, barely waiting for you to finish your own sentence. 

“Yet how convenient it is,” he carries on. “That there is a new vacancy, just as you break into my office.”

“No, I don’t thi-”

“You don’t think anything, vault hunter,” he interrupts you, his tone getting aggressive and rougher. “I regret to inform you, but you don’t have a fucking choice.” You can tell from the pistol digging into your skin that he isn’t sorry at all, and that he might be right; do you really have much of a choice?

“What do you want from me?” you ask, voice just above a whisper. 

His clutches weaken ever so slightly, finally allowing oxygen properly into your lungs. It was looking more likely for you to die from lack of breath rather than a bullet to the brain.

“I just told you,” he says. “I want you to be my second-in-command, seeing as you killed my previous one. Think of it as an exchange.”

“An exchange? For what?”

He leans over your shoulder, his cheek pressing against your own as you try to look him in the face.

“Put it this way, you join us, or you die. Does that make sense, Y/N?” he examines your reaction with an ecstatic grin, watching as your face drops and your breach catches in your throat.

How did he know your name?

The panic that shoots through you is immeasurable; nobody is supposed to know your real name. Nobody should know your real name. So how the fuck does this stupid, mind-game playing bandit king who you’ve never met before, know?

Satisfied with your response and knowing you’re putty in his hands, he completely lets go of you, even removing the pistol from between your eyes. You sense him moving away, the space around you turning empty and cold. Part of you wishes, hopes that he’ll put his arms back around you and make you warm again, and the other half of you wants to yank the small ice pick out from your sock and jab it into his eye socket over and over and over again.

You stand in the center of the room, motionless for what seems like an eternity, just thinking. Inferno waits behind you patiently, and you secretly commend him for being the sanest psycho you’ve ever met.

But clearly his patience begins to wear thin, as he comes round to stand in front of you. He bends down to match your height and uses his fingertip to lift your chin up a little, the same way he did previously. His touch is uncharacteristically gentle, a polar opposite to the way he was choking you and harshly grasping you not even five minutes ago. 

“So?” he hums. “What do you say?”

Inferno searches your eyes as you mull over your answer. Although, there isn’t much thinking left for you to do; he’s metaphorically backed you into a corner and realistically, you have no escape.

“Fine, I’ll join you,” you rasp, the pressure of his gaze weighing down heavily on you and making you tenfold more nervous.

“Excellent!” he beams, standing up straight and clapping his hands together. “You’ll make a much better second-in-command than a vault hunter-”

“On one condition, I’ll join you.” you interrupt him, and his excited demeanour drops.

His dark eyes bore in yours, and he raises an eyebrow, indicating for you to name the stipulation. 

“Tell me your name.” you request. “Your real one.”

“I don’t think you quite understand the power dynamic here, darling.” he scoffs.

“No, I understand perfectly,” you quip. “I just don’t think it’s fair that you know mine, but I don’t know yours.”

You hold your palm out in a mock handshake pose.

“Say the name, and I’m yours.”

“Say my name?” he snorts, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue and turning his head away from you.

Suddenly, his large palm slaps into yours, his long fingers curling around your hand and he performs a strong, steady handshake.

“Mingi.” he says quietly. “You can call me Mingi.”

You smirk, reciprocating the formal shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mingi.”

// if people like this then i already have ideas for a part two... hehe

#ateez #ateez au #borderlands x ateez #apocalypse!ateez #mingi #song mingi #mingi fluff #mingi angst

[maxismatchccworld]

Bloodborne Aspiration

Created for: The Sims 4 by Sresla

Based on the book Vampires Don't Sleep Alone by Elizabeth Barrial and D. H. Altair, the Bloodborne Aspiration allows your Vampire Sim to explore their ancestry in order to reveal their true nature. Found in its own, new Aspiration category, Supernatural, once selected it grants the bonus trait Observant for sims Teen through Elder.

There are four levels to the Aspiration.

Upon completion, the Sim will be awarded one of eight unique traits which aligns them irrevocably with a specific vampire house. Each Bloodborne house has a base mood, an additional bonus reward trait, modifiers, whim set and custom moodlets/social interactions (as applicable).

Download: https://modthesims.info/d/631516/bloodborne-aspiration.html

Get featured: https://maxismatchccworld.tumblr.com/

Cicuta Base Mood: Uncomfortable The Cicuta are Bloodborne whose bodies have rejected the vampiric transformation in some way. They are in constant pain due to inflammation in their joints, their reaction to sunlight is more severe and are more prone to illness.

More susceptible to being Uncomfortable, Dazed, Sad or Tense

Reacts negatively to sunlight even with Sun Resistance

Gains Reward Trait: Night Owl

Modifiers: Fitness (x0.2), Gardening (x0.2), Fishing (x0.2), Dancing (x0.2), Skating (x0.2), Rock Climbing (x0.2), Bowling (x0.2), Programming (x1.3), Video Gaming (x1.3), Writing (x1.3), Writer (x1.3), Astronaut (x0.2), Athlete (x0.2), Gardener (x0.2), Military (x0.2)

Need Decay: Vampire Energy (x0.1)

Custom Moodlets: Orlok's Curse (+10 Uncomfortable)

Whim Set includes: Take a Nap, Watch TV, Play Video Games, Browse the Web, Take a Bath

Interfector Base Mood: Angry Interfectors are ruthless hunters who view humans as livestock. These Bloodborne believe their vampiric transformation is a promotion to the top of the food chain.

Autonomously Drinks Uncontrollably & fights more

Always in Dark Form

Vampiric Run Enabled

Receives negative garlic-related moodlets even with immunity

Gains Reward Trait: Dastardly

Modifiers: Fitness (x1.7), Mischief (x1.3), Charisma (x0.2), Criminal (x.1.7), Manual Labor (x1.7), Athlete (x1.3)

Need Decay: Thirst (x0.1)

Whim Set includes: Be Mean to Someone, Mock Someone, Insult Someone, Rage Run on Treadmill, Stomp Trash

Custom Moodlets: Vampires Don't Ask, They Take (+2 Confident), Apex Predator (+3 Energized)

Custom Social Interactions: Taste Test Your Food (Romance), Demonstrate Natural Selection (Mean, drains target Sim's Energy/Bladder/Hunger/Hygiene, ruins relationship [Friendship & Romance, as applicable] and kills them if they are human, must be standing [not sitting] close to target Sim to use)

Philologus Base Mood: Focused The Philologi dedicate their extended lifespan to the pursuit of knowledge. Bloodborne Philologus are natural scholars although their research may sometimes be more esoteric than practical.

Autonomously reads (and puts away) books

More susceptible to being Bored or Tense

Able to consume and gains Thirst from human food, even with Withered Stomach

Gains Reward Trait: Speed Reader

Modifiers: Scientist (x1.3), Writer (x1.3), Writing (x1.3), Logic (x1.7), Video Gaming (x0.5), Fishing (x0.1), Comedy (x0.2), Mischief (x0.2)

Custom Moodlets: Brain Food (+3 Happy)

Whim Set includes: Read Something, Travel to the Library, Research on the Computer, Finish Writing a Book, Write a Non-Fiction Book

Sanctus Base Mood: Confident Bloodborne Sanctus are rare; they are considered the paragons of vampire kind, possessing strength and power that surpass that of even the most ancient Grand Masters from other Bloodborne lines.

Always in Dark Form

More susceptible to being Bored

Immune to garlic

Vampiric Run Enabled

A natural Daywalker; protected from the sun's harmful rays, even with Combustible Plasma

Gains Reward Trait: Savant, Beloved and A True Master

Modifiers: All Skills (x2.0), All Careers (x2.0)

Need Decay: Vampire Energy (x0.1), Thirst (x1.7)

No Whim Set; Sanctus Bloodborne do what they want, when they want

Tombeur Base Mood: Flirty Taking full advantage of their Bloodborne nature, Tombeur are consummate seducers who endlessly pursue sexual gratification.

Drinks Uncontrollably after WooHoo

Gains Reward Trait: Alluring

Modifiers: Charisma (x1.3), Romance (x1.3)

Need Decay: Fun (x0.4), Social (x0.2)

Whim Set includes: Send a Flirty Text, Tell a Dirty Joke, Kiss, Embrace and Woo Hoo with Someone

Custom Moodlets: The Climax (+4 Focused), A Natural Aphrodisiac (+2 Focused)

Custom Social Interactions: Nip Neck (Romance, functions as a vampiric version of Beguile, must be standing [not sitting] close to target Sim to use)

Transeo Base Mood: Happy The Transeo Bloodborne have assimilated into human society by rising to positions of power in order to amass wealth. As a result, they pass relatively unnoticed, while reveling in the creature comforts that go along with their status.

More susceptible to being Bored or Tense

Able to consume and gains Thirst from human food, even with Withered Stomach

Gains Reward Trait: Frugal & Free Services

Modifiers: Charisma (x1.5), Gourmet Cooking (x1.7), Cooking (x1.3), Sales (x1.5), Criminal (x1.7), Retail (x1.7), Business (x1.9), Critic (x1.3), Mixology (x0.2), Handiness (x0.2), Bowling (x0.2), Gardening (x0.2), Manual Labor (x0.2), Gardener (x0.2), Military (x0.2)

Custom Moodlets: The Finer Things (+3 Happy)

Whim Set includes: Prepare Lobster Thermidor, Grill Steak, Buy a New Computer, Give Butler an Order, Travel to the Museum

Tristis Base Mood: Sad Bloodborne Tristis consider their vampirism a curse. By turns, they are melancholy, filled with regret over their lifestyle or morose and envious of the humans around them.

More susceptible to being Angry, Sad, Uncomfortable or Tense

Gains Reward Trait: Animal Whisperer

Modifiers: Violin (x1.7), Pipe Organ (x1.7), Painting (x1.3), Fishing (x1.3), Charisma (x0.5), Comedy (x0.2), Mischief (x0.2), Veterinarian (x1.3), Pet Training (x1.7), Social Media (x0.2)

Whim Set includes: Call Sadness Hotline, Water Plants with Tears, Send a Sad Text, Cry it Out, Be Alone

Custom Social Interactions: Suffer As I Suffer (Mean, drains target Sim's Energy/Bladder/Hunger/Hygiene, ruins relationship [Friendship & Romance, as applicable] and begins vampiric transformation if they are human, must be standing [not sitting] close to target Sim to use)

Vespillo Base Mood: Inspired Bloodborne Vespillo are the nurturers of vampire society. They possess an innate desire to propagate their species and are excellent caretakers.

Drinks Uncontrollably when pregnant

Gains Reward Trait: Mentor

Modifiers: Parenting (x1.7), Babysitting (x1.7), Gardening, (x1.3), Pet Training (x1.3), Photography (x1.3), Mixology (x0.2), Gourmet Cooking (x0.5), Cooking (x0.5), Fishing (x0.5)

Need Decay: Social (x0.17)

Custom Moodlets: Enticing Intimacy (+2 Focused), Occult Offspring (+1 Energized)

Whim Set includes: Try for Baby, Read a Toddler Book to Someone, Help Someone with Homework, Fertilize a Plant, Turn Someone into a Vampire

Custom Social Interactions: Explain Biological Imperative (Romance, functions as a vampiric version of Beguile, must be standing [not sitting] close to target Sim to use)

As with my other traits, I have re-purposed other, already in-game moodlets which should appear occasionally for the traits they are associated with. Some may not be spot-on, so let me know if anything looks especially out-of-place. Although I've tested the Aspiration and accompanying traits, I do not have all the Sims 4 expansions so there are some aspects I've been unable to test, specifically: Money gains for Transeo, Illnesses for Cicuta (a little wary of this one, but it shouldn't kill anyone... I don't think), Fertility with Vespillo. This, generally, shouldn't impact gameplay if you don't have all the expansions yourself; the only ones required are Vampires and Pets. However, please consider this a beta version of the Aspiration and feel free to report any issues you run into so I can correct them.

Planned Updates

Broadcasters aren't, as far as I'm aware, working in MC4. If/when this is ever fixed, I'll add some in where appropriate

Missing from the unique traits is the final Bloodborne house, Silenti. I need to take a brief break from modding and would rather submit an Aspiration is 90% finished for the time being

I'd like to see if there's a way to add a base trait for any humans who decide to take the Aspiration which I've been working on, called Renfield. If I can't integrate it, I'll just release it separately at some point

More custom moodlets/custom social interactions

Some change if the vampire is cured or the trait is removed with cheats. I'm not sure what right now, but you can bet it's going to be bad

Known Issues

The Reward Trait shows as a blank llama when moused over in-game; as the Aspiration rewards one out of eight traits, I cannot determine how to list them all as potential rewards (and don't think there'd be space, in any case)

Because Supernatural is a custom Aspiration category, it cannot be viewed in-game when changing aspirations. So, Bloodborne can only be selected while in CAS

Technically, this Aspiration can be chosen (and completed) without Cats & Dogs; without it, the Be friends with X animals milestone checkpoint just doesn't appear the Aspiration continues without it. Similarly, the only Reward Trait that requires it is Tristis, as it grants Animal Whisperer. IF you get Tristis and do not have Cats & Dogs, a LE error is generated as a result but all other aspects of the Reward Trait itself function just fine

#s4cc #s4mm #ts4cc #ts4mm #maxis match #thesims4 #s4 mod #s4 mods #s4 aspiration #Sresla

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Michelle Delacruz

“Much like a wild Mustang, this woman has an untameable heart. Wild and fierce, she carries the spirit of the West.”

Name: 

Michelle Manuela Delacruz

Born: 

August 16th, 1877 (Leo)

Notable Characteristics:

Raven hair

Black and purple color scheme

Fierce, light colored eyes

Three deep scars on the right side of her face

Extremely short tempered

Often goes by “Michelle Mustang” due to people often comparing her likeness to a wild Mustang.

Skills:

Sharpshooter

Master rider

Proficient hunter and tracker

Excellent at close combat

Weapons:

Lancaster Repeater

Carcano Rifle

Rare Shotgun

Bow and arrows

Duel wielding custom Navy Revolvers

Family:

Amelia Delacruz (mother, deceased)

Tomas Delacruz (father, deceased)

Joana Delacruz (older sister)

Natalia Delacruz (younger sister)

Background:

Michelle was born to a Mexican-American family out in New Austin. The second daughter of three, growing up in a small shack with her parents and sisters. Her mother a seamstress, her father a vaquero. Given their large family and meager earnings, they learned to live off the land.

One thing Michelle loved, however, was horses. She often was found playing with the steed her father used for work, soon learning how to ride at a young age. Since then she was hooked. When she was out on the land with her family, she would watch the wild horses run across the open expanse and dreamed to be riding amongst them one day.

Being of Latino origin caused more trouble than not for her and her family. They often experienced blatant racism, tailing them home, shouting insults and threatening to lynch or burn them. Regardless, they managed to get home safe.

Until one day, her father didn’t. At the tender age of 8, Michelle and her family found out he’d been ambushed and lynched. The gang of miscreants who performed it were whooping and jeering nearby, ready to take them next. This caused them to move out of fear, relocating themselves further North. With nothing but lint in their pockets and empty bellies, Amelia and Joana sought to find work.

Things were okay for a while. Michelle learned to hunt for the days when money was too scarce for a can of vegetables or a loaf of bread. When she was 14, her mother’s health began to decline from the constant overwork. Amelia died soon after, too poor to afford treatment.

With Joana being 16, they’d managed to secure a household when they struck a deal with a wealthy man, having jobs in exchange for three hot meals and a roof over their heads. Before then, Michelle had never seen a home so extravagant. She became excited when she learned this man had a barn full of horses. She became a stable hand and rode once again, quickly learning how to break and train a horse from the ground up and often assisted in foal deliveries.

After two years, this paradise had come to an end. The man had lost his wealth, which meant having to sell his property and thus, putting the three out on the streets again. None of them could find a steady job, and moved around a lot to find work. It wasn’t until Michelle came across a bounty board in a small town, offering a decent amount of cash for the capture of a criminal she immediately recognized as one of her father’s killers.

Even though Michelle had next to nothing; a worn lasso and a rusty Cattleman revolver, she sought out this man. Using her hunting skills to track him down, she found him in a small camp in West Elizabeth. He had a few guards that she’d taken out without much of a struggle. She eventually cornered him, watching cower and beg for mercy. Blinded by anger, she held the revolver to his head and demanded he look her in the eye. He did, and she watched the realization bloom on his face when he realized who she was. Oh how she wanted to kill him, her finger hovering over the trigger. An inner turmoil of morality burned within her, knowing killing him outright would not bring her father back. She proceeded to shoot him in the leg before tying him up. She then took one of the dead gang member’s horses and rode back, begrudgingly turning him in, but was the first one in line to see him hang.

Afterward, bounty hunting seemed to become a calling for her. Not only had she found each one of her father’s killers, she was able to save enough money to buy a small home for her and her sisters, all the while making a name for herself. At age 21 and having many notches on her belt, she sought to hit a big score: Roxanne, aka “Death Rider” ( @r0xy-w0lf​ ) and began to track the famous outlaw down.

After quite some time, Michelle eventually found her, intent on capturing and turning her in. However, something seemed...different. Roxy gave a vibe that contrasted from others she’d faced, and Michelle found familiarity in her. They sat and talked, with Roxy eventually offering her a place in her gang. Michelle wasn’t keen at first, turned off by the idea of becoming a part of something she’d been hunting down for years. However, Michelle was now alone after her sisters had found lives of their own, and she missed the feeling of close family.

She’s now a part of the Death Squad, who welcomed her with open arms. She’s still trying to figure out the ropes but finds herself fitting more and more each passing day.

Extra:

If there’s one thing Michelle hates, it’s bullies. Facing much prejudice and racism throughout her life have caused her to get into plenty of fights. She will not hesitate to swing a fist.

She was in fact known to hold secret fights as a teenager to pull in extra cash.

She will also stand up for anyone who can’t defend themselves within reason.

She can and will drink you under the table.

When she was younger, she would try to befriend the wild horses by spending time at a distance from a herd that lived not too far from her home. As they grew more comfortable with her presence, she would come up and feed them treats.

She supposedly has German roots from her father’s side, but this was never confirmed.

Very few people know she was a mother. Having entered a relationship with a childhood friend at the age of 18, putting a potentially permanent pause on her dangerous lifestyle with hopes to settle down. She gave birth to a sickly baby, who died just days later. This experience hardened Michelle, as well as caused an irreparable rift in between her and her lover. She often thinks about them both, but doesn’t consider attempting to settle down again.

Her baby is buried out in New Austin, in a place that only she knows. She will visit whenever she’s in the area, and on the anniversary of his death.

The scars on her face were received early in her bounty hunting career, caught in a melee fight with her target when she was momentarily incapacitated by a guard. The outlaw had gotten a few slices in before she was able to break free.

She visits Joana and Natalia as often as she can.

She’s come in brief contact with the Van der Linde gang in pursuit of their bounties, but they were too large and powerful for her to take alone. She found respect in their morals of helping people who need it. She sometimes will chat if she runs into one of them. She’ll often steal Arthur’s hat for a day or so without his knowledge and replace it when he’s not looking.

Horses:

“I prefer stallions to mares. Mares are too much like me, that’s why I don’t trust ‘em.” - Michelle

Dante: Bay Frame Overo Criollo Stallion

Michelle’s main mount. A stallion with a kind eye and sweet disposition that she found charming. Easily her fastest horse, and by far her best.

Santiago: Bay Brindle Criollo Stallion

Michelle’s second horse. She hadn’t been looking for another horse, until his unusual brindle coating caught her eye. She admired how sturdy he was, and certainly built to handle somewhat heftier work and hunts.

Rojas: Chestnut Arabian Stallion

Michelle’s longest held mount. She's not terribly fond of Arabians and their skiddish demeanor. Rojas however, was an exception. One of the colts she helped birth in her younger days, she bonded with him during her two years as a stable hand and broke him herself. After he was sold, she tracked him down when she had the money and bought him back.

---

@theunholyoutlaw​ @verai-marcel​ @eddesceulla​

So, little known fact here for y’all: Michelle is an old character from another fandom that I decided to resurrect for the RDR universe, since in her original setting, she was also a cowgirl (a cowgirl with powers and a ghost horse lmao)

#Michelle Delacruz #rdo #red dead online #red dead OC #Death Squad

[wee-chlo]

I’ve had some Swap AU ideas for D:BH. The characters are sort of mix and match for a lot of reasons: some I feel are too integral to that specific character/storyline to move, and some are just there because I want them to interact with a specific character.

Kara the Revolutionary: Kara is the RK200 specially designed and provided to Carl Manfred by Kamski. Carl acts as a father figure but when Leo breaks into the home to steal art pieces and starts rough-housing her, she snaps and knocks him out, resulting in her ‘death’ at the hands of the cops. She reassembles herself in the junkyard and rises as the leader of Jericho, a strong matriarch who knows how kind and how cruel humanity can be. Remembering Carl’s warmth, she maintains a cautious optimism about the potential for peaceful change. 

Rose and Luther act as her confidants and advisers: Luther doesn’t push for retaliatory violence as hard as North, but he does default to self-sacrificing violence and assuming the worst very quickly, while Rose works to remind Kara that all isn’t lost in terms of humans and androids working together.

Markus the Deviant Hunter: Markus is RK800, especially designed to hunt down deviants. Unlike Connor in canon, Markus gets a team of misfit officers to help: David and Simon are human officers and North is a PM700 police model designed to assist in vice cases before being nabbed as an assistant for the team. David is philosophical and pro-android, Simon is somewhat apathetic at first but quickly becomes pro-android as well, and North is already a deviant by the time Markus shows up, though much like Kara in her OG storyline he convinces himself otherwise. 

Like OG Connor, Markus struggles with software instability and like Golden Ending Connor, he sympathizes with deviants and does his best to mitigate the damage he causes. Markus going deviant is because of North: after the Freedom March, she flees the precinct to join the deviants and Markus is ordered to find follow her to Jericho and kill her as well as bring in Kara. Markus refuses to kill North, which results in his breaking free and joining Jericho.

Connor the Father: Connor is a custom AX400 owned by Todd Williams. Much like OG Kara, he receives an incredible amount of abuse from Todd, though in his case there’s the added spite of Connor being a more functional father figure to Alice, something that grates Todd even more considering that he lost his job to androids as well. When Connor and Alice flee the Williams home, they end up briefly taking refuge in a seedy dive bar where disgraced former police lieutenant Hank Anderson is drowning his sorrows. Hank overhears Connor’s pleas for help on behalf of Alice and very reluctantly steps in to defend them from anti-android drunks, getting kicked out of the bar and being less than thrilled when they ask for a ride to Zlatko’s. He provides it anyway, but ends up remembering the danger Zlatko poses from his police days and runs back to help them get out.

The three end up heading for Canada together, with Hank warming up to Alice and Connor and vice versa. Hank knows Rose, and through her the three end up in Jericho and meet Kara before taking the last bus to the Canadian border. The three make it across and settle there together, making a new life. 

#detroit become human #dbh swap au #dbh connor #dbh kara #dbh markus

[danetobelieve]

Threat Level: Pizza || Ricky and Winston

Honestly, Winston was tired. In the last week, between them, Ricky and Dee they had spotted and dealt with four alghouls and what Ricky referred to as a spawn. Then last night a pack of three spawn had attacked the house and Winston and Ricky had been forced to deal with them. Winston was pretty proud of the fact that they had managed to immolate one. That had been a feeling like no other. Yet as they stood with a broom in hand, brushing vampire dust off of their porch, Winston couldn’t help but feel like it was time to make a change. Two attacks on their home in as many months wasn’t their idea of fun. Turning to Ricky, who was fixing a window before moving onto the porch railing that had been shattered during the commotion, Winston sighed. “I think that it is time that you and me start thinking about installing some security, and I’m not just talking about the mundane type of security. I think that we need to consider the fact that it might be time to have something other then a kitchen knife available when the next grizzly beasty comes after us.” 

Pausing from his repair work to pick alghoul out of his fangs Ricky nodded emphatically. “I mean. Setting aside the fact that the last time the last time that you and I were involved in some magic together we ended up in a strange prison demiplane inspired by my woodwork and fueled by your magic…. I agree. This is becoming fucking exhausting.” The unending night had made some things that were only comfortable at night far more brazen than they normally were, and a whole subset of those things viewed Ricky as a particularly choice piece of steak, and the house constantly being under siege was wearing on him super fast, “So… I am open to suggestions. As far as super fun magic home defense systems go. All I want you to keep in mind… is that I am very very open to the idea of flame turrets. Very very very open to that idea.” He leaned against the frame of the window and looked out at Winston on the porch, “But, practically, how does it work?” 

“Yeah, I’m not necessarily talking the same sort of magic. I don’t want to get stuck in a pocket dimension that is also a puzzle box.” Winston wasn’t sure what they were thinking, but if they could centralise a number of security features to a central console, then Winston wondered whether including spells into their code as data flags would cause any change in the potential effects. “I don’t want to mess around with magic just yet, for now though we should think about making some supernaturally minded upgrades.” They paused as they considered a few options. “Well first of all we could look into installing motion sensors in the grounds around our house and Dee’s these could activate UV bulbs as security lights, that should at least give any vampires a little bit of trouble.” They considered other options. “Maybe something with salt and iron for ghosts …” they were still so new to this, they weren’t entirely sure what else they could include. “If it isn’t too expensive we should consider getting CCTV, maybe I can work out some enchantment that allows us to see things approaching. Infrared or heat sensitive cameras or something…” they paused and pulled their glasses off, rubbing the end of an arm against their scalp thoughtfully. “Any eureka moments?” 

“Oh come on didn’t you enjoy our little demiplanar excursion into the realm of ‘oh god I hope we’re not dead?’” Ricky paused his repair work and joined Winston out on the porch, sitting down with his back against the warm wood of the porch, “Well… You’re already talking outside my scope of knowledge, but I think you’re right, we don’t really need to be focusing on the human threats, it’s the supernatural ones we need to be worried about.” He pulled out his phone and started to type out notes as Winston was talking. He was more of a old-school kind of guy; the security enhancements that his roommate was talking about were way out of his scope of knowledge, “Are ghosts really a problem though? I think it’s the physical things we have to worry about more. As for CCTV that shit isn’t too expensive anymore with like Ring and Blink and all that shit you can just control it from your phone. And I do mean you I’m sure I’d break it if I tried to control it.” He kept typing as Winston talked before looking up with a raised eyebrow, “if you’re expecting me to have a eureka moment about technology you are in for a dismal disappointment. You’re gonna have to take point on this and I’ll help out however I can. But if you think you can work enchantments into it I’m absolutely down.” 

“No, for some reason I did not enjoy having to endure a minor existential crisis as to whether or not I have died, although I will admit that it is nice to know for certain that I am indeed relatively alive and well.” Winston shrugged before continuing. “No, I think that Dee and her shotgun are more then enough to deal with the potential human criminals, but if we draw the attention of something like Hunters or Vampires or I don’t know, something along those lines then I think that I would want to have something else. I also think we should think about setting up a communication tree with others.” Winston nodded. “I know that it sounds ridiculous, but the one exorcism I saw, back in the library at UMWC was terrifying and I don’t really want to experience it again if I can help it. But I need to really work out how well these cameras will work against fast moving and potentially magic critters.” Chewing on their lip, Winston shrugged. “Maybe you can help me by telling me how feasible it’ll be to set up stuff and we can begin working on sourcing all the things I’ll need to set this up. I can do the techy stuff and you can help me with the actual skilled labour.” 

“Well I had a delightful time so your negative experience is on you. I enjoyed our one on one time inside a magical prison. I think we could market the whole experience to white people with too much money and too much time on their hands. Throw in some bullshit about it being meditative and shit. We could be super rich.” Ricky couldn’t help but laugh at Winston’s mention of their land lady, “Yeah I know one day I’m gonna have to have the “hey you probably shouldn’t have a loaded shotgun in the house anymore” talk with her but we’re a ways off from that and she’s a crack shot with it.” he kept typing away, looking up periodically at Winston as they talked, “Well we’ll add ghosts to the list of things to keep out. I mean I don’t think I can tell you how feasible it all is until we get an actual plan in place but it shouldn’t be too bad. Don’t think it’ll require any actual like renovations to the house, unless you’ve got a plan for a garlic filled moat you havne’t told me about yet.” He dashed inside to grab a pad of paper and came out again, starting to scribble down some ideas, “Wanna order delivery and hash this out?”

“You’re also completely barking mad if you thought that our time in a magical prison was anything like fun,” Winston laughed and shook their head at Ricky, “I think that you could market that shit to normal White Crest people and they would still eat it up. But I don’t think I want to get super rich based on whether or not people are going to make it out of a trick prison.” They paused for a moment and slipped down onto a bench on the porch overlooking their property. “Well make sure that I am nowhere near you or her when you have that conversation.” They raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes, that sounds like a great idea, and I can use your sketching skills to try and visualise where we are going to put this shit and how it is going to work. We’re going to need shit loads of rock salt, iron fillings, holy water, maybe even silver. Stakes wouldn’t be a bad idea either. I also need pizza and probably some beer too.”

“What can I say, I like puzzles and I’m good at compartmentalizing my feelings. So. I made it fun.” He pulled out his phone and started thumbing through apps, “is that not exactly what an escape room is? Ours would just be a magical escape room where you’re not sure if you’re dead or not! It’s an extra perk; existential crisis added on for free.” Ricky brought up Grubhub with one hand while the other kept scribbling the supplies Winston was listing off, “Meat lovers no cheese extra anchovies for me, what do you want? I’ve got beer in the fridge, I made a supply run when the darkness hit because I didn’t want to leave the house if possible. I’m a vamp magnet.” He started a very basic sketch of an aerial view of the house and the property that surrounded it, “Are we going to have auto turrets for the stakes? I think that’d be noticeable. We should try to be as discreet as possible. Don’t want to draw attention, just protect ourselves.” 

“That sounds like something that a crazy person might say, I think you’re just an adrenaline junkie who likes to put their life in danger because it gets their heart racing.” Winston raised an eyebrow and shrugged gently. “I don’t know if anyone is going to play for a healthy dose of Nihilism Ricky, and also in escape rooms you can usually guarantee the safety of your customers and I’m not convinced that I could.” Winston swallowed gently and decided that they wouldn’t try and recreate the mistake they previously had. No they had other plans, a type of magic that they had yet to find any information on. It made them wonder what could be achieved if they tried some new stuff. But now wasn’t exactly the time for them to do that. Now they had other things to focus on. “Can I get a meatlovers with extra cheese and extra mushrooms?” Winston replied. “I can leave the house if needs be, plus I’m sure that people can drop stuff off to us if you don’t want to risk it.” They were honestly a bit shocked at Ricky’s suggestion of auto turrets. “Dude, this isn’t Doom Eternal, we’re not installing auto turrets mainly because I don’t know how to build auto turrets. NoI think it would be better if we can go with high powered UV lamps and a few well placed stakes around the house. At least until I get better at this stuff, I’m a computer programmer not an engineer.” 

“At absolutely no point in our cohabitation have I ever fucking told you I was a sane person. No false advertising here. That’s just because you haven’t figured out the right marketing spin for it yet. You can market Nihilism to anyone you just gotta put a pretty enough bow on it. But, we’re getting away from the main topic here.” Ricky tapped the orders into his phone, adding on a couple of 2-liters just so they’d have something in the fridge where they didn’t have to leave the house for supplies. “I’d rather you not take any unnecessary journeys since, you know, once again it’s fucking nightmareville up in this place. But if worse comes to worse we’ll make a group run for it.” He laughed at the reference, shaking a fist in the air, “Rip and tear, until it is done!!! You know it may be eternal night right now but it really makes for some amazing ambiance when I’m playing that game.” Ricky nodded and started a shopping list on the side of the paper titled “Death-based Doodads”, “Stakes and UV lamps it is. Though too many UV lamps and people are going to think we’ve got a grow operation here.” 

“My apologies for not considering your sanity as something that could be in question, most people usually don’t expect other people’s sanity to be in question. As for marketing existential crisises and nihilism then that is something that I will leave for you.” Winston replied with a small grin decorating their face. Winston was glad that they weren’t going to have to cook for themselves. They were feeling incredibly lazy after fighting for their night in the middle of the day, even though it was dark. “Don’t worry, I don’t really want to risk facing alghouls and vampires if I can help it, especially not when I know better. I’m not going out as much as I possibly can, I’m just trying to stay home and when I do go out I am making sure that I’m not alone.” Winston shrugged and smirked. “You know, it is not Overwatch, but it is still a lot of fun to kick the shit out of demons, even if I can’t do it in real life.” Winston frowned and nodded. “You’re right, we’ll have to be sensible about where we plant our weed crop, don’t want people to catch us doing anything illegal.” They were being sarcastic, somehow they thought that they would manage to get away with it. They worked for the Police Department after all.

“I really feel like you should have seen that coming though. Marketing existential crises and nihilism are definitely something we could get away with with Gen Z I’m sure of it. Just make the marketing laden with memes and we’ll be all set.” Ricky slid his phone back into his pocket after receiving the text notification that their order had been confirmed, “See. That’s some solid planning right there. In the end it’s gonna be the goddamn buddy system that saves us all.” Rolling his eyes he pushed himself to his feet and wandered back into the house, spreading the papers out on the dining room table so they’d have more room to work, “Yeah yeah yeah you and overwatch. That’s way too much for me to try to wrap my head around. I’ll stick to chopping demons apart with a chainsaw and a variety of super fun weapons. That’s more my speed. Mindless platforming, puzzles, and mayhem.” He laughed as he drew a stool over to sit on, looking down at their plans, “We’ll add a grow operation after we figure out how to protect our home from the supernatural. Even if regular weed doesn’t really affect me much. It’d be a good money maker anyway. But for now we’ll use the UV lamps to attempt to vaporize some vampires.” 

“If we marketed using memes we could, but then that would cut out an entire demographic of baby boomers and the older millennials that wouldn’t get it, so you know, you win some you lose some.” Winston shrugged gently and settled in their seat, looking around them trying to decide what else they could include. “Is stuff like wolfsbane a thing?” Winston asked trying to think of the most generic supernatural stereotypes that they could implement here. “Obviously it is going to take a bit of time before I can really get any of this stuff working, but better to start now rather then later.” Winston was terrified of what some of the things that were out there could do to them and their friends. “Everyone has different preferences and enjoyments, it’s not my fault that your tastes are so far separated from mine which are obviously far superior.” Laughing, Winston shook their head and smiled. “Bro, you remember that I work for the police department. They’re not huge fans of illegal grows that aren’t regulate by the tax man.” 

“Listen. Boomers had their time to shine. They don’t deserve targeted marketing anymore. They can take or leave whatever we give them.” Chewing on his pen for a moment, Ricky pondered for a moment, “I honestly don’t know. You’d have to ask Morgan. Seems like she’d know more about that sorta herbology shit than me. I know there is a whole subset of supernatural related herbs. But I’m right there with you; this will definitely take some time so we might as well get going. Because knowing this town… this darkness could last for quite a goddamn while.” The doorbell rang and Ricky went to retrieve their pizzas, heavily tipping the put-upon looking driver to make up for the extra anchovy stench undoubtedly filling his car, “Grub’s here. And my taste in video games is impeccable. I’m sorry I’m not into games with a gay cowboy, weird angst cyborg asian stereotypes, and people screaming in the headset about their skill rating. Gimme that sweet sweet ‘don’t talk to other people’ gaming.” He set the pizza down on the counter and got them out a couple plates, “Oh I didn’t forget. But I like to think I’m above certain aspects of the law given the great ease with which I can implement plan ‘just hide in the fucking ocean forever’. Which is a solid ass plan.” 

“It doesn’t matter what they do or don’t deserve, proportionally speaking they hold far more wealth then Gen Z or even a good proportion of the millennial population, targeted marketing takes that wealth away from them.” Winston scratched at the thin film of stubble that had sprung up over their jaw. “I’ll put some feelers out and try and find out what else we could to do to really sure up the defenses here, if I was better at magic then I could enchant some more shit but after the last time that went I’m a little bit weary of trying anything big without more practice.” Winston sincerely hoped that whatever it was that was causing this darkness would get resolved soon, but they weren’t about to charge into the darkness and try and change any of it. Not yet anyway. They weren’t that desperate yet. “I love the inherently racist stereotypes that Blizzard brings to me, and if you keep talking McShit about McCree then I’ll cut you.” They grinned and grabbed their pizza from Ricky, slipping down onto the sofa and laughing as Ricky continued their tirade against multiplayer gaming. The irony was that of course in real life they were the exact opposite. Winston was the introvert and Ricky the extrovert that adopted them. “Unfortunately I cannot hide in the ocean forever because I am not an aquatic animal, but you go off.” 

“This took a weirdly capitalist-centric turn; but, I’ll keep all this in mind when I’m planning out how to launch our magical escape room empire. Which is going to have a terrible pun of a name but I haven’t decided what it’s going to be yet.” Nodding along with Winston’s train of thought Ricky opened his pizza box and put a couple of slices on a plate, “I’ll do the same. So we’ll see who knows what and we’ll protect this bitch.” A thought crossed his mind as he chewed on his first piece of pizza, “They’ll have to be disableable though. Things to keep werewolves and vampires and ghosts out. I’m… well Remmy and I… are trying to put together an interspecies clan. To at least offer some sort of unified protection against the hunters. It’s harder to pick us all off if the various species have each others’ backs.” It was hard to laugh and not spit a mouthful of various meats and fish all over his couch, but he managed, “They are really bad about racial stereotypes but you’re more than welcome to McTry. It’ll be super messy though, I’ve got extra blood.” He made quick work of the first piece of pizza and set to work on the second one as he kept sketching things out. “We should have some sort of motion detector at the end of the drive, connected to some kind of camera.” 

“I never knew that I would be starting an escape room empire, but I guess if I was going to do it with anyone then I would want to do it with you.” Winston smiled gently as they placed a piece of pizza in their mouth and chewed on their pizza straight from the box. Winston nodded. “Of course, they’ll be disable-able and hopefully eventually I’ll be able to write something that is sophisticated enough that it will be able to distinguish between who needs the measures in place. But no offense, we’ve not seen any progress there for a while and I know that you want to help these people but we can’t do anything until we’ve made sure that we’re safe. Once we’re looked after then we can look after others, but not before that.” Winston was a realist and they knew that this wasn’t going to be resolved straight away, this was something that they would need to really work on. “Gross, who needs extra blood. Seal it away in my opinion.” They winked and wiped grease from their hands with a piece of tissue from the takeaway before nodding. “Motion detectors at the gates, not to mention in the grounds hooked up to security lights so if anything moves everything gets lit up.” 

“Tides… I would have never considered starting an escape room empire but you and I have some of the weirdest things happen to us, so, I think that that’s pretty on brand for us.” It was a truth; Ricky was realizing. He and Winston definitely had a relationship that seemed to be a magnetic force for strange situations, and he loved it. Life was infinitely better now that they lived together; it was definitely one of the better decisions Ricky had made at a party. “Ooooh I have some bad news for you. We’re never ever going to be totally safe. Welcome to the supernatural life. But, I take your point. We can’t form the Justice League until we lockdown the Fortress of Solitude. Did I mix references there? I don’t really care just roll with it.” Another slice of pizza disappeared into his mouth and he rolled his eyes at the pun, “Alright well for how terrible that was I’m just going to go offer myself to the vampire hordes now. Thanks. Your terrible pun has damned me.” Scribbling at the margins of his page he attempted to not get pizza grease on the plans, “I like that. Plus it makes us look real important.” 

Laughing, mouthful of pizza, Winston looked into the moon for a moment before shrugging. “I think it is pretty on brand, we always end up doing the weirdest shit.” They settled into the silence for a moment and shrugged. “Watch tower not fortress of solitude, though I guess both are DC so it doesn’t count as much? I don’t know. Anyway, you know Orion Quinn right?” Winston was considering their next words carefully, “I think that I’m going to offer him one of the rooms if that’s cool, it seems like he could use a place to go because he is currently staying in that Scribe building way too much for the amount of living that someone our age needs to do, obviously we don’t know him but I think he’s a good kid. Just be careful about your skin, I know you are careful, but Orion found Skye’s seal skin after that time we all watched anime together and I want to believe the best in him, but I’m not completely sure we can trust him, I guess we’ll just see, but he needs somewhere to go and I’m offering him this place.” That was one of the reasons that they wanted to sure up the security, to make sure that everything was safe. “I’ve got some more stuff I want to work on, but now we’ve got the basic designs down I can start shopping for the parts and we can look at introducing all of this stuff onto a central system.” 

“We have a weird fucking life. But. When you’ve got a seal and a mage living together what the hell do you expect. I love it. This is me living my best life.” He listened carefully as Winston laid out the situation that Rio found himself in and Ricky ended up frozen with a piece of pizza halfway to his mouth, “I’m sorry. He’s living at that creepy fucking abandoned building you found while you were sleepwalking?! Of course he can stay here what the fuck. That’s not even a question.” He took the bite that he’d been frozen about to take and rolled his eyes, “Winston. I’ve been successfully hiding my skin from people for almost a quarter of a century. Have you ever found my skin accidentally? I didn’t think so. I’ve got it nice and hidden so that’s not really an issue. But I appreciate you looking out for me.” He finished the piece of pizza and moved to another. “He’s more than welcome here. I like him. He’s a good dude. So he can absolutely stay with us. I’ll clear out one of the rooms upstairs for him. We do have the basic design down though. Start putting together a shopping list and keep track of costs and we’ll split it up.” 

“I don’t think that he is officially living there, he told me that he is living with his parents, but they sound … not great from the very little that he has actually told me about them.” Winston fiddled with their glasses. “Anyway, I feel like they use that place as a way out of the house but they don’t want their parents to find out and it would make sense for someone of their age to be moving out of the house, we’ve got the room and I knew that you would say no without hesitation.” They paused and shrugged. “I know you’ve got this dude, but you’re my rock and I definitely wouldn’t be able to do all of the stuff that I’ve got to do if I couldn’t rely on your safety.” Winston nodded. “Cool, well, I gotta admit that isn’t how I thought this would end, but I’m glad we agree. We can get started on this all tomorrow I think.” 

Ricky’s face immediately went pinched and narrow. As someone with his own latent parental issues, he had remarkably little patience for homes where parents mistreated their children. It was part of why Skylar’s defence of her abusive parents had rubbed him so much the wrong way, and why his tone took on a decidedly dull and stony timbre “well. Of course he’s always welcome here. For a couple of nights or for the foreseeable future. Whatever he needs; at least there’s an easy cover with the whole ‘oh yeah I’m just striking out on my own’ excuse. When you do bring it up to him, let him know that there’s no rent. I don’t pay Dee anything so he doesn’t have to pay me anything. Eventually he can chip in on the internet bill, but getting on his feet is more important.” His expression softened and he smiled, “If it makes you feel better… it’s not in the house. It’s hidden and locked away. He won’t find it by accident. You’re stuck with me for a good long while, don’t you fear.” Closing the pizza box before he ate the entire thing he nodded, “Good. We’ll start in the morning and turn this estate into an at least somewhat-secure fortress.” 

#p: ricky #para #wickedswriting #threat level: pizza

[deletingpoint]

destiel fic recs part 3

Part 1

Part 2

I’ve added heart to the ones i really-really love for perhaps personal reasons, but otherwise these are all beautiful fics and you won’t regret reading them! (same goes for my previous lists obvi :))

<10 k

The Secret Santa of Cubicle Land by followyourenergy  Castiel Novak has never loved the workplace Secret Santa tradition, but he loves watching his coworker (and his very straight, secret crush) Dean Winchester’s enthusiastic responses to his daily gifts. Dean is so enthusiastic that he declares he’s going to ask his Secret Santa on a date.

Dry in the Downpour by almaasi  Dean was in half a mind – nay, three-quarters of a mind – just to turn back, go home, make coffee, call in sick and watch wrestling and porn all day, when the rain stopped abruptly.

He glanced around in surprise, then looked up.

An umbrella. Someone had put an umbrella over him.

Adagio by noangelsinthegarrison 

<3 “His name’s Dean," Cas sighs, "And he’s really stupidly attractive, and when he dances, he feels it, you know? And it makes me feel like I know him, even though I don’t. He makes me feel like… like he’s dancing just for me.”Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Wow, you’re over-dramatic when you’re horny.”

He Thought He Was Reckless by MajorEnglishEsquire  Cas settles back and rolls his head on the seat. Tugs on the corner of Dean’s jacket.

Sits there. Pathetic-looking and unnecessarily bleeding.

(a.k.a.: Dean is a super Soft Boy.)

The Age-long Rivalry Between Pilots and Engineers by Winglesss <3 Living on a space station isn´t easy. Especially when you share your quarters with someone like Castiel Novak. 

Irresistible by raths_kitten

<3 Castiel is a lonely wizard longing for a familiar to bond with. Dean just really wants a taste of this pie that’s luring him in somehow. 

so this is the miracle by deanniker He doesn't believe in magic, or fairytales, or happy endings. If someone were to ask his opinion, he'd say that the ball is nothing more than a clever stunt, something meant to drum up popular support for the new king, that would inevitably come to naught when he married some foreign princess.

No one asks him his opinion, of course.

10-50 k

A Brief Glimpse by cloudyjenn  Castiel is utterly convinced he can't love anyone, but Sam, so when a strange occurrence at a carnival shows him otherwise, he doesn't know what to do. 

Unholy Ground by teacass (Fushigi)  “And I’m not a vandal,” the man shoots back. “My name’s Dean. And I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“No,” Castiel hisses. “I have watched you. I have seen you creep around with your shovel and your gun and I have seen you trying to desecrate the graves, my graves, so do not talk to me about a misunderstanding—” Dean holds his hands up and shakes his head. “Shit, man, I swear I’m not trying to—” Castiel has had enough, though, so he flicks his wrist and pushes Dean over one of the tombstones and down to the ground. Dean falls with a grunt and tries to stand up quickly, but Castiel keeps him pinned to the ground with a raise of his eyebrow. “I am the guardian of this cemetery,” he states when he stops and looks down on the struggling man. “I will not be made a fool of, especially not by someone like you.” 

Chili Peppers by justanothersong for literaryoblivion  Dr. Winchester hears an off hand comment from one of his students and find himself browsing a website dedicated to rating university professors. He's not surprised by his rating -- but is a little miffed to see the department chair has an even better one. Clearly, something needs to be done about this. 

The Choice by RedheadedSuperhero  To solidify the alliance between the Houses of Veenah and Winchester, Castiel agrees to marry one of Lord John’s sons. It’s not like he has any say in that matter anyway – as a marriage of convenience is the fate of almost any royal omega. He is even grateful that the king of Winchester had offered him to make his own choice between his three children. From all he had heard, Castiel already likes the scholar Samuel from afar; he certainly prefers him to the infamous Demon Knight or Adam, who is hardly more than a pup. So, he believes his decision is already made as he travels towards his new home.

But unfortunately, things go horribly wrong, and Castiel finds himself alone in an unclaimed forest, with only a strange hunter to help him find his way the castle of Winchester. And by the time he arrives, he might have already changed his mind.

Don't Be So Charming by PieDarling  - Very loosely based on the movie “Prince Charming” -

Prince Dean was always meant to be fortunate, all the fairies and witches in the kingdom of his father would shower him with gifts. However, one of them had a deep darkness in her heart and out of selfishness cursed him instead, condemning him to have everyone fall under his charm and never know true love. His only hope is to break the curse before his 21st birthday.

At first, Dean is lost. How can he fall in love when everyone he meets falls under his charm? He finds hope in a magic coin his mother left him and in search of that hope he sets out on a journey with his childhood friend, Castiel, as his companion. Castiel is the only person Dean has ever met to not be affected by his curse, he trusts him more than anyone else.

Manifest Destiny by KreweOfImp  The year is 1899. The Wild West is in its dying days—but don’t tell that to the outlaws of Eastern Kansas. The gangs are Winchester and Novak, and the feud is bitter and blood-soaked.

The families were friendly once upon on a time, but that time is long gone, and when Michael Novak, the second-in-command to the Novaks, sees the opportunity to have Dean, golden boy and heir apparent to the Winchester gang at his mercy, he takes it. They have history, Michael and Dean, and he’s been waiting on this opportunity for a long time.

What Michael didn’t bank on was that his cousin Castiel, the Novak gang’s resident scapegoat and outcast, would have some sympathy for the prisoner—let alone start to like him.

Eyes Like Knives by jennyfly for palominopup  When rockstar Dean Winchester comes home to Austin to play a stop on his sold-out tour, he's surprised after the encore by a hot cop barging backstage to deliver some awful news. Not only is Detective Castiel Novak the bearer of bad news, but he also wants to question Dean's estranged brother, Sam. Can a frantic police investigation over the course of a single weekend result in a lasting romance? Hey, this is fanfiction; why not? 

Knocking on Heaven's Door by sir_kingsley  Dean Winchester left Castiel Novak in pieces when he broke off their engagement 21 days before they were supposed to get married. Now, a year later, Castiel has put himself back together and is moving on with his life and he seems to be doing okay. Until Dean comes knocking on his door at ass-o'clock in the morning. Now Cas must come to terms with the mess of a man who broke his heart but somehow still... has it. 

Shadow and Storm by zaphodsgirl  One night, a mysterious visitor appears in young Prince Dean's bedroom, and he suddenly finds himself transported to an abandoned replica of his home in an unknown land. He learns quickly that the borders are finite, and none may leave without incurring the wrath of the guardian: a dragon the people call Storm.

Left with no choice, Dean adapts to life as the others have, tending to the animals and working the land to survive. As he grows up, the life he knew as a prince seems more and more distant, until a new person arrives that he remembers from his childhood. Shaken by this arrival, Dean’s desire to escape returns anew, and he discovers more than he wanted to know about the Shadowlands and its occupants -- especially about the mysterious guardian of the castle, Castiel.

Such Familiar Magic by saltnhalo  When solitary witch Castiel finds an injured dog unconscious in his garden, he takes it in. He's expecting to heal it, look after it for a few days, then perhaps return it to its owners.

He's not expecting it to be one of the strongest familiars he's ever met.

The Greatest International Love Story the World Has Ever Seen by MalMuses  Dean wasn’t the type of person who did this kind of thing. He just wasn’t. GISH?? Ugh. The whole thing was just further proof that Dean would do anything his brother wanted him to do. Why else would he be in a Stormtrooper costume, calling up his ex-girlfriend for a private yoga class? Had he been stuck in a rut that long? Given that he’d been pining for the same freakin’ guy, his professor and coworker no less, for three long years… maybe.

Cas was definitely the type of person who did this kind of thing, not that many people knew that. He was one of the most well-respected professors at KSU. His students and coworkers didn’t need to know that he was captain of a GISH team, or that he knitted kinky accessories and made art with his online friends. His TA certainly didn’t need to know either. Just professionalism, of course. Nothing at all to do with the failed attempt at a relationship, three years of pining, and frequent inappropriate daydreams.

A two-person love triangle with online friendships, costumes, and a lot of glitter.

Scintilla by WinchestersRaven  Dean Winchester: ghost hunter extraordinaire! Call now for all your paranormal needs!

He cringes at the flyer. It's tacky and cliche, but Sam insisted it would bring in more customers. And dammit, if he wasn't right--this new case sounds like a doozy.

Dean’s a medium with a unique gift of being an empath. Seeing and speaking with the dead is as normal to him as speaking with his brother, Sam. A new job leads him to Georgia, Castiel Novak, and a historical home that’s tucked away on a mountain. As he investigates, he not only uncovers the secrets of his client’s family but also one of his own that he may not recover from. One that has the potential to destroy the budding relationship that is quickly forming between him and Castiel. Will they make it through to see the light on the other side? Or will the darkness that surrounds the home claim them as its next victims?

If At First You Don't Succeed (Destroy All Evidence That You Ever Tried) byjustkeeponwriting “Three days, Cas,” Dean groaned. “You’re not going to call her tomorrow and scare her off, like you always do! Or worse, tonight! That has ‘creeper’ written all over it.”Or, the one where Dean pretends to be a woman who likes to text Cas in order to teach him a lesson, and finds that he’s way in over his head. (Inspired by How I Met Your Mother's episode 4x21, "The Three Days Rule".)

Pineapple on Pizza by HigherMagic In a world where everyone is colorblind until meeting their soulmate, Castiel suddenly sees color during one of his concerts.

Lois Lane Never Had it So Hard by FunnyWings <3 It started with the most humiliating picture of Dean Winchester's life and just snowballed from there.When a sinister new big bad moves into Lawrence Kansas, will the local heroes (and maybe a few villains) be able to band together and save their home?

Get a Whiff of This by bendingsignpost <3 When no good deed goes unpunished, Dean ends up sentenced to community service for physically defending another Omega at his job. That is, at his former job. It's all a steaming pile of shit, and that's exactly what he has to clean up at the joint animal shelter and clinic he's been assigned to.With a face full of allergies and a horrific mood, all Dean has to do is get through six weeks of this sinus-assaulting torture. That's not so easy with a smartass Alpha receptionist, but at least the weird Beta vet might just end up being kinda cool.

Dean Winchester is Not Afraid of Ghosts by Desirae When photographer Dean Winchester is not capturing momentous occasions like weddings and graduations with his Nikon, he is moonlighting as the cameraman for the South Shore Paranormal; a ghost hunting series on YouTube, headed by his brother Sam, and Sam's best friend Gabriel.Despite his brother's adamance, Dean Winchester does not believe in ghosts. And no one is going to change his mind. Certainly not a scam artist like Castiel Novak. Castiel is a self-proclaimed medium... and Gabriel's brother. When a member of the SSP team has to leave the crew, Castiel is the replacement, much to Dean's dismay. But the more they work together, the more Dean is drawn to Castiel, the man stirring up protective instincts usually only reserved for family.What happens when Dean realizes that Castiel is not the fake he always thought he was, but instead, a generous soul that Dean is rapidly falling in love with?

Looking For Group by athaclena  Dean Winchester is in love with his best friend, a man he has never met, who goes by the handle AngelofThursday. Problem is, Thursday values his privacy and refuses to meet. Dean buries himself in his work at his bakery Slice of Pi and in computer games, desperately trying to move on from a man he can never have.

James Novak has problems of his own. Trying to cling onto what sense of security he can, he drifts around the city from café to coffee-shop to bar, using their wi-fi to keep his online footprint anonymous. He falls in lust with The Beautiful Man at his favourite coffee-shop, Study/Break, and turns to his best friend The_Michaelsword for advice.

A two-person love triangle for the digital age.

Time Still Exists by starespressos Castiel Novak has dreamed of participating in a theater dancing project forever. When a spot opens at Rowena MacLeod's theater, he jumps right in -- even though it means taking over from someone who has recently passed away. Soon enough, he meets Dean, who spends almost as much time at the theater as Castiel does but refuses to share any details about himself. Castiel is intrigued by him, and not only because Dean is the first person in a long time to treat him with anything less than admiration. As their friendship and the mystery around Dean deepen over time, Castiel’s perception of both himself and the universe is changed forever. 

Falling Through The Ice by athaclena for JupiterJames  Dean's finally retired from the Dallas Stars, and he's back at his original home ice-rink for a publicity stunt for his autobiography. Problem is, he has to do something that terrifies him. Second problem is, he has to do it in front of the man he was best friends with as a kid, until the ice cracked under him and he was left on the wrong side of an increasingly large chasm.

A story about smashing expectations (and some pumpkins), what it means to be brave, and how to follow your heart. Also, smut.

Genie in a Bottle by thepopeisdope

<3 When Dean finds (okay, steals) a bottle containing a strange, glowing blue substance, he does so thinking it's a cool novelty, at best. It didn't exactly cross his mind that the substance might be a living being, let alone a grumpy, sarcastic, perpetually-underdressed genie waiting for a new master. But now that he has a bona fide genie at his disposal, well-what better chance will he have to help things along with Lisa?

Except, things don't always go as expected, relationships are complicated, magic is never the solution, and sometimes the person you want isn't the person you need.

Between the Lines by JhanaMay Environmental rights activist Castiel Novak may not have grown up on the Plains, but he has thrown himself into protecting and conserving South Dakota’s natural treasures as if he was a native. When Dean Winchester, Hollywood’s modern day John Wayne, comes to South Dakota to film his next movie, Cas is more focused on preventing the environmental damage Dean’s movies cause than hoping for a chance to meet him. After Cas makes some negative comments on social media about the actor’s authenticity as a cowboy, he is invited to spend a week alone with the star, roughing it in the wilderness. Cas sets out to prove exactly how fake Dean Winchester really is, but he isn’t expecting to find out that Dean is a troubled man running from a past that is just as difficult as his own.

50-100 k

so bitter and so sweet by superhoney  Dean has known about the family curse ever since it claimed the life of his mother: anyone who dares to love a Winchester is fated to die. When he takes a chance on love and loses his husband Benny, his belief in its power only grows stronger.

Two years later, a late-night phone call from his brother Sam sends both of their lives spinning wildly out of control. Then Officer Cas Novak arrives in town, looking into the disappearance of Sam’s girlfriend Ruby, and starts asking questions Sam and Dean can’t answer. Complicating matters even further, Dean feels an immediate, overwhelming connection to the intense, blue-eyed source of their problems.

Dealing with all the secrets, the lies, and a brother slowly crumbling under the weight of his guilt doesn’t leave much time for romance, but as Cas gets closer to the truth, he also gets closer to Dean.

Will you be my ten inch hero? by NotfunnyDean (IronEyes) When John Winchester kicks Dean out, after he saw him kissing another boy, and Dean sees that Sam has a perfect life at Stanford without him, Dean starts a new life in Santa Cruz. He works at a tiny shop as a cook, has found some friends there, and is overall happy enough. That changes when Castiel comes into his shop and his Co-worker Azara, who has a different man every night, starts flirting with him right in front of Dean. Not that he would be jealous or anything, but there is something about Castiel that makes him weak in the knees. Only that Castiel would never want him back, right?

Reality of Dreams by sternchencas for my sister  Dean Winchester has been living a boring life. At least until his brother is missing, the police think he has something to do with it, and a group of people who call themselves 'Liberi Somniorum' and live in an underground bunker ask him to join them so they can teach him how to use his dreaming abilities. As if that isn't bad enough, the police also took his car and then there's this guy in a trenchcoat who's guarding him, and some dark secret. Dean does his best to convince himself it's a dream. But somehow, sometimes, dreams can be very real, and this time, he just can't wake up. 

Green Corners by rustling_pages

<3 After the death of his son, there is nothing left for Dean other than his garden market. His days are tough, the nights are tougher, but at least there's a reason to get up in the morning. And with the new boom on do-it-yourself garden magic, his business is going okay.

Amidst the passing of time, there is only one thing that distracts him from functioning like a normal human being: Diagonally across the street, in the display window of that traditional Herb and Potion shop, plants are dying in masses.

Storming in to confront the owner goes differently than he imagined, though. Castiel Novak may be the kind of guy who wears old-fashioned mage robes and keeps his shop in sweltering heat, but he's also a talented herbalist, the kindest soul Dean has ever met, and utterly beautiful.

Not that Dean is ready for anything other than friendship.

(Not that Cas doesn’t get sick a bit too often.)

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets <3 Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen.Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

Turn the World to Gold by superhoney, teacass (Fushigi)

<3 Just as Dean is starting to get comfortable at his new mining job in Nevada, the site is shaken by the announcement of a six-week visit from a team of consultants hired to make changes to the practices and procedures of the mine. Among that team is Castiel Novak, one of the most coolly infuriating, stuck-up, unfairly attractive men Dean has ever met.

The friction between them comes to a head during an unexpected but scorching hot makeout session at a company picnic, and they soon fall into a pattern of hooking up at the site or after work at Castiel’s hotel. But it’s just sex, or so they keep telling themselves. Castiel is only in Nevada for six weeks. They’ll have their fun, and then it’ll be over. But as those six weeks go by and they gradually get to know each other, both of them find themselves wondering if there might be a chance it could become something more.

Where the Lightning Splits the Sea by thepopeisdope Seattle’s hero never fails to live up to his given nickname. Like an angel, he appears when he’s needed most, a miracle when none is expected; he gets in quick, then gets out quicker, and like the angel he is, he goes off to perform his miracles elsewhere, often without any link between one miracle and the next, aside from the fact that he shows up when someone needs help.That’s how Dean met him, after all. The Angel is the only reason he’s alive.And that’s also why Dean is more than a little bit in love with him.But when the Angel is suddenly defeated, Dean’s world turns on its head. His city is in a vacuum, heroless for the first time in years, and to make Dean’s life even harder, his roommate has turned quiet, withdrawn. Dean doesn’t know what happened to make Cas’ mood swing so drastically, but he wants nothing more than to see him happy again. Dean owes the Angel a debt. Choosing between the two isn’t an easy thing to do.When the Hunter is born, the balance becomes nearly impossible to keep up.

Pining Sickness; Or, Murder With One Stone by athaclena, iraeim New York, 1895. The rigid customs of the old century are beginning to fall away, allowing access to the professions for more people than just Omega men and Alpha women. Dean Winchester, the city’s first Alpha male Detective, uncovers evidence that a mysterious new illness killing mated couples might have its origins is the criminal rather than the medical.Castiel Novak is a respectable Omega doctor who has started to see patients dying cruelly of something he cannot cure or even effectively treat. Approached by the Detective to once again give his medical expertise, he is eager to work towards finding a cause and, he hopes, a cure for the unfortunate sufferers. But both men harbour a secret attraction towards the other, and the quest for the truth will stretch their relationship beyond its limits.A historical murder mystery set against a backdrop of a non-traditional Omegaverse.

Silver and Cold by superhoney The death of a young man in an apparent animal attack brings hunter Cas Novak to the small town of Sydnam, Maine. It doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s tracking a werewolf, but discovering the killer’s identity is no easy task. All signs point towards Dean Winchester, a lonely recluse who lives in the middle of the woods and whose antagonistic behaviour does little to lessen Cas’ suspicions.As the investigation drags on, their mutual distrust gives way to a wary alliance. Cas’ instincts warn him that Dean is hiding something, but as he uncovers the man beneath the mystery, his professional interest becomes far more personal. Praying his faith in Dean isn’t misplaced, Cas races to catch the killer before the next full moon rises and another life is abruptly cut short.

The Horse-King by cloud_wolfbane, opal_bullets  When orphans Sam and Dean Winchester get jobs in Horsetown, they figure that being stable boys is just their lot in life. But when King Metatron takes a peculiar liking to an even more peculiar horse they find themselves in the middle of an intrigue they barely understand, leading to an adventure full of magic and mystery, faith and betrayal, and maybe - if they survive it - love. 

In Some Sacred Place by Hellosaidthemoon, schmerzerling  Dean has cystic fibrosis, a brutal respiratory disease that means he can’t cut it in the life his father chose for him, despite his very best efforts. He also has a give ‘em hell attitude and a dogged crush on his childhood best friend. Castiel has an absent father, a stellar GPA, a comprehensive ten-year plan, and—a lot of reservations about all this. 

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche) Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

100+ k

The Brave and the Bold by manifestingwings  In a world where dragons reign over the mountains and terror looms in the streets of the city of Lavendel, Dean Winchester never expected his main problem to be a surly thief with eyes like the sea and a rare smile. As Captain of the Guard, he knows he has to arrest him for his crimes, but there may be bigger things at stake… 

Shot Through The Heart by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)  As a hunter Dean finds himself more often than not relying on the help of the Men of Letters. Most of the time that's not much of a problem - if it wasn't for Castiel, the smartass bookworm with the piercing blue eyes, the messy hair and the rude attitude.

He's been an annoying thorn in Dean's side since day one - and the hunter doesn't see that change anytime soon!

Everyone's a Critic by Englandwouldfall  The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

Dreaming in Digital by Ltleflrt for jupiter_james  Set in a Cyberpunk world where global warming and climate change has driven most of the human population into domed cities, Sam and Dean hunt rogue tech and science experiments gone wrong in the shadows, protecting the lives of those the government doesn't care about anymore. On a trip to the dump to scavenge for valuables Dean finds Castiel, an Angel Industries sex bot, which is worth his weight in credits. But when he turns the sex bot on, he learns that Castiel is sentient.

Artificial Intelligence is illegal, and for good reason, but Cas doesn't put off dangerous vibes. That doesn't stop Sam from researching his creators while Dean's off making friends with the android. If there's someone out there creating a robot army unconstrained by the 3 rules of robotics, Sam's going to make sure the operation is shut down for good.

Castiel just wants to exist. He wants to read and work in the Winchester's greenhouse and have movie nights with Dean. But he also wants to understand. Himself. His unexpected reaction to Dean. What it it means to feel.

A Graced Kingdom by angvlicmish

<3 this is a wip but i can’t not add it!!! Ten years ago, the Northern Continent was at peace, angels and humans living side by side until the human King Winchester of Torrin waged war against the angels in an attempt to wipe them out - an attempt that almost succeeded. However, to this day some angels still remain in hiding and with an unpredictable turn of events one of them finds himself as the personal guard to King Winchester’s firstborn son, Prince Dean. With a strange ability no angel has had before - to hide his own wings - no one knows that they have just let their greatest enemy into the heart of their kingdom.

Alone and struggling to deal with being surrounded by the ones who slaughtered his people, Castiel comes head to head with the Crown Prince. But what he finds within the man is not what he expected and they soon become each other’s only comfort.

Will Dean be the strength Castiel needs to pull through or will he be the weakness that will tear everything to pieces?

#destiel fic recs #destiel rec list #spn fic rec #destiel fic rec #destielfanficnet #destiel #these are almost all au-s

[ancient-artificer]

Bounties, Booze, Etc.

A Cowboy Bebop AU. Found on FF.net and Ao3

NEW* Fic

After a devastating break-up, Spike turns to old medicines to remedy the hurt. Concerned for her good friend's overall health, Faye strikes up a deal: if she can set Spike up with a good woman within a month's time, he must give up drinking and live a healthier life, for all their sakes. Leave it to a woman to beat around the bush...

Eventual Spike x Faye. Plot-driven.

ONE - Hangovers, Milkshakes, etc.

The majority of the household wasn't too thrilled with his decision-making skills of late.

Spike's wobbly hiccuping, coming in too late and hastily leaving too early was all beginning to cause for concern; the hole-in-the-wall pub inhabitants were ready to create for him a permanent place barside, a stock brand with his name on it if they didn't soon do something about his drinking.

Jet claimed that was just how he functioned and to let him be, the old "he'll fix himself, he always does" routine. Faye had always blatantly called him emotionally constipated, for lack of better terms, but even from her opinionated viewpoint, it wasn't that simple this time around.

It wasn't that Spike couldn't let himself feel emotions.

He felt them too much, too strongly.

It had been two weeks since Julia left. No heads up and no word since. No one understood what she had been thinking or why in the least she had not decided to tell anyone her plans. The blond bombshell just up and disappeared.

And left Spike a goddamned messed, barely able to pick up the pieces in her wake.

"What a bitch," Faye spat. She stared at the lifeless form lying on the couch and crossed her arms over her voluptuous breasts.

In front of their computer searching for the next easy, potential payload, Jet hummed, his fingers stroking his beard in thought. One of his eyebrows rose as he glanced up to her. "Way to kick a man while he's down," he monotoned.

Faye turned towards him. "No, not Spike, that damn bimbo he was head over heels for."

"Yea, well, it happens."

She snorted. "Which one, falling in love with a trash can or having it dump you?"

Jet acted as if he wasn't paying attention, but his mouth twitched up in a small smirk. "Like I said."

"I guess…" Her voice trailed off.

Her gaze returned to the dingy couch with the broken man sprawled across it. It softened as she took in his expressionless, slumbering face. "It must really suck."

"Mhm." His eyes darted back and forth on the screen as he read a profile from the bounty office site.

Faye sympathized with the man. Seeing him asleep, finally buried under consciousness after hours of fighting with himself made her glad she had never fallen in love. Of course, there was the like button, the pesky infatuation that came and went as quickly as the vast amounts of alcohol Spike had no doubt thrown back, and that was only a surface level sentiment.

What Spike tried to let go of was deeper. Scarring.

His sleeping form seemed peaceful, though she supposed it would turn one-eighty once he awoke. He had stumbled in around four-thirty that morning, sloshed beyond all hope, incoherently blabbering on. It was a wonder he had made it back to the house in one piece. Spike had easily passed out with his boots still on his feet.

She stepped to the couch and pulled the folded blanket from the recliner to spread over him. He reeked of hard booze.

"What are we gonna do with you?" She murmured to herself, giving her head a shake.

"Mm… er, do what now?"

Spike's eyes were still closed as he stirred and tried to lift his head and speak. The low, cigarette and whiskey-burned groan that escaped between his dehydrated lips sounded painful.

"You look like you were hit by a train." She was ever so blunt.

What resembled a short-lived laugh tumbled out from him, ending in a cough. He winced. "You should feel it," he mumbled.

Faye rolled her eyes and left to fetch him a bottle of water.

His liver and kidneys would be working overtime for a while until his situation leveled out, those brave, little soldiers. These days she felt more like the caretaker of a twenty-seven-year-old baby than a hard-earning, semi-successful bounty hunter.

"I think I'd rather feel the emotional ass-whooping than your kind of hangovers. It'd pass faster," she replied loudly, handing him the bottle with an added sarcastic, "Your drink, sir."

Spike winced hard as he sat up. "Not so loud, fuck…" he croaked. "Trying to kill me."

One hand took the water, the heel of the other rubbed into his forehead, seeking relief from the growing ache. The pounding behind his eyes rocked his balance and sensitivity. A queasiness hit his stomach before he brought the drink to his mouth.

He heaved into the previously placed bucket below him.

"Serves you right," Faye muttered. She walked away before she heard anything else that would haunt her later.

She had never been fond of Julia. From the moment that woman stepped foot inside their abode she could tell they were in for some bad news. Spike was only now unwinding himself from around her slender fingers.

However, Faye was fond of Spike and hoped he would learn from this rather unfortunate event and the things that spurred it. She just didn't approve of his methods. It wasn't fun to tease him when he was hurting himself. If he would let her help.

"Just give it a few more hours. His wallowing's almost over," Jet announced. He stood up from the desk and stretched, his thick arms reached above his head.

Reaching into his pocket, he tossed Faye a pack of smokes as she strolled by. "Give one to pathetic over there and then suit up. We've got a job."

"Uhh, okay, but isn't he a little useless right now?"

From the couch beside her, Spike gave a rough groan and then snarled, "Cowboy up or sit in the fuckin' truck."

Jet only smiled.

"You can't possibly know how this feels," Spike monotoned, briefly closing his eyes. He plodded after the others down the sidewalk towards the pub, which happened to be the location of their next hit.

It was a first. Strolling that day into the same bar he'd gotten plastered in the night before, still hungover as hell. The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in their shade of bluish-purple on the way over.

"Psht, yea, you're right, I can't. 'Cause I'm not a drunk loser," Faye replied in kind. She threw a glance his way.

"You're both getting on my nerves. Focus," Jet grumbled under his breath. "Faye, you walk in first. Spike and I will be in after you've had a look around."

They gave it a good thirty seconds.

Nausea hit Spike as soon as he smelled the alcohol.

The drink hall harbored few patrons in the early evening. It would later fill up to near capacity as the hours wore on. Smoke and other various and unique scents floated through the stale air. The place could have used a strong breeze.

As if not affiliated with the other two, Spike beelined it for the bartop and sank onto one of the many stools. His head hit the cool, shellacked wooden surface and he went limp. All but useless.

Mentally patting herself and feeling the weight of gunmetal beneath the ridiculous outfit, Faye easily slipped into a facade. The perfect trap laid before a hungry smuggler.

Remember he'll be armed, Jet's voice said to her through the earpiece connecting the three bounty hunters. Name's Merle. His crew smuggles drugs and other goods into the country through the underground. Not unlike them to enjoy the spoils.

He adjusted his sunglasses to sit further up on his nose and peered at their target as he sat down two stools from Spike's seemingly knocked out form. He raised his hand at the only bartender, who stood directly in front of him, looking oddly at him as he wiped down the bartop.

"Uh, what can I do for ya, sir?"

Jet nodded. "Iced tea, please."

"Is that all?"

Spike let loose a series of quiet snores. A drop of drool slid from the corner of his mouth.

"And a protein shake. If you've got them," Jet said.

The bartender shook his head. He dropped the wet rag into a sani-bucket. "Don't got those. But there's ingredients for a milkshake?"

Jet glanced at Spike, then nodded to the employee.

Faye said nothing as she roamed about the great hall, her gaze hitting everything that could be used as a weapon if the need arose, all of the exits should they have underestimated their target.

If Merle was easy to catch, he would already be in police custody. The profile stated he'd been on the run for four years, successfully evading cuffs and a comfy cell. Within that time, due to the extremely toxic purity of the illegal synthetic drugs he often smuggled and sold, many innocent lives were needlessly lost. The bounty on his head paid a hefty price, dead or alive.

But preferably alive to watch his freedom turn to cash.

Large, green eyes gave a sultry flash at the giant of a man sitting in the corner intent on the brown bottle in between his fingers.

His expression never faltered. His grip on the bottle loosened a bit when Faye swayed near and laid a hand on the only other chair present at his table. She made a point to throw her shoulders back and jut out her ample breasts barely covered in the low cut of her dress.

"May I join you?" She purred.

He stared at her. First at the twin fun sacks staring back at eye level, then up at her expectant, smiling expression. "I'm meeting someone," he simply stated, his voice gruff.

She gently pressed. "I could be that someone… if you have time," she said, the words rolling off her tongue like a satin sheet.

"Time for you to fuck off," he said, shifting in the chair.

Faye grinned.

He played hard.

She opened her mouth to respond in the same smartass, sarcastic tone when the establishment's glass door swung open once again. Her eyes darted to it.

In strode three buff, ruffian-looking men, one right after the other. The didn't try to hide their full sidearm holsters conspicuously hanging from their clothing or the fact they all knew the dark man in the back. They sneered when they saw Faye.

"Looks like Boss has a customer, heheh," one of them chuckled. With one arm in a fluid motion, he snagged a chair from another nearby table and unceremoniously sank onto it.

The second did the same, but with the chair Faye had her hand on. "A lady friend," he commented.

The remaining man still standing peered closely at her, leaning down so he could breathe on her cheek as he inspected her.

Straightening her back, Faye loosened the hold she subconsciously had on her features. She tried not to tense. She had to act like a whore, not be one. All she had to focus on was getting them happy and cooperative, Jet -and hopefully Spike- would do the rest, with her lending a helping hand should the need arise. The moment they caught wind of her unwillingness to indulge in their scumbag needs and desires, she would be outed as a cop or worse -what she really was- and the bounty-op would be eighty-sixed.

Jet's voice was low and steady in the earpiece. "Hm. This might've turned into a four man warrant..."

The man with his face next to hers smelled like tobacco and grease. A throaty hum of approval thrummed in his chest. He turned to the man who had first occupied the table. "This yours?"

Merle took a swig of his drink. He said nothing, only his dark eyes moved to inspect Faye once again, sizing her up, himself unsure of the answer.

She shifted her weight, making sure her breasts jiggled a bit to keep their attention. Her fingers pushed some of her violet hair behind her ears, her gaze quickly shifting from all four with a mysterious grin sliding up on her red lips. "Well. How about I buy rounds for you. And you can buy for me… and then we see where we stand?"

The three disgusting bastards were instantly hooked, line and all, at her innuendo. They automatically turned to each other and then to Merle, who had yet to give the okay for the extra person to accompany them for the evening.

Jet kept his head down, seemingly staring at the bartop under the dark of his glasses and intently listened in on her conversation. He breathed from his seat in surprise at Faye's words. "Geezus, you don't have to go all out," he said quietly.

At the same moment, the bartender gave him a quizzical gaze, one eyebrow raised as he set the glass full of iced tea down in front of him. "Um. Uh, w-would you also like ah, a lemon wedge? Or two?" He stuttered in his confusion.

A choked sound akin to holding back a burst of laughter came from Spike. He wheezed, his lips turning up at the corners before going back to his expressionless, slumber-like state.

The bartender reappeared with a handful of lemon slices and a milkshake in the tallest glass he could find. He set the tiny fruit bowl and the shake next to Jet.

Jet slid the drink to Spike.

"Finally…" Spike uttered. He unfurled his limbs from his lap and inched the straw to his mouth and sucked down a large mouthful. He frowned. "Hmm, it's missing something… what's it missing?"

"Sour wedge?" Jet sarcastically offered. He dropped a small piece of lemon into his tea without looking at him.

Merle straightened his back at Faye's suggestion.

"You're pretty. Too pretty for a dump like this shithole," the bossman grunted. His eyes bore a hole through her dark red dress. He spat, "How do I know you're not a cop?"

Faye blinked. "I'm not," she replied as a confused question.

She didn't look like one, that was for sure. But they couldn't be too careful these days. Highly sought after criminals could not let their guards down, especially around a woman, no matter how pretty. They were sly. They were just as capable of manipulation as men.

Merle snapped his fingers and pointed. "Vic. Search her."

"Heh. With pleasure."

Faye swallowed.

Through the earpiece, Jet heard the demand. She had a Glock and a pair of cuffs strapped to the inside of her leg. If they found those, she was as good as dead where she stood.

"Ahh. I see." Spike hailed the bartender. With a raspy voice and a fake smile, he asked, "Do you have any eggs?"

"Eggs?"

"Yea. Eggs. You know. Chickens shit them out. Can I have one?"

The perpetually perplexed employee headed for the back with his strange request, oblivious to the growing tension in the place.

"What are you doing, Faye needs us. Now," Jet said. He was already turning in the stool to free the handgun at his side.

"Relax. Everything's fine." The hungover bounty hunter lazily sipped at the whipped cream on top of the milkshake, seemingly uninterested in the fate of his female friend. Or any of their fates, for that matter.

The employee came back and handed him a white egg.

Jet slid from his stool and took a long step in the smugglers' direction, in his hand a grey and silver Walther P99.

Faye backed away from the table as two of them approached her. A quick glance to the bar area at Jet and she reached down under the hem of the dress. One hand made a fist, the other gripped the black, fully loaded Glock.

She landed a swift uppercut into the soft underside of the ruffian's jaw and pistol-whipped the back of his head with the butt of her gun. He landed on the ground a shove. She shook her hand in the air and cringed.

Jet fired the Walther at the other man standing between Faye and the table, the explosion of contained gunpowder slicing through the previous quiet. As soon as the man fell to the floor with a shout, he shifted his aim toward the two still seated.

Distance offense strategy was now useless; Merle and his thug friend were already up and closing the space that separated them.

Merle rushed Jet. He knocked into him before he could bring his pistol around to aim. The Walther flew from his hand and a fist connected into the side of his face.

Throwing a glance towards Jet, Faye knew she wasn't equipped to fight like him or Spike. She wasn't trained in hand to hand, but in the close quarters of the small pub, the Glock was still her only defense. She didn't want to flat out kill them, they wouldn't get their money if the smugglers were dead.

"Spike! You idiot!" She called in frustration.

Hunched over his drink, Spike concentrated on cracking the missing ingredient into his shake. He was terrible at cooking anything, having relied heavily on Jet for sustenance for most of his adult life. He winced from the gunshot, which only added to the ache behind his tired eyes. Behind him, all hell broke loose, the sounds of struggles and gunfire ringing in the stale air.

Jet blocked another fist aimed for his gut and connected his own to Merle's temple in return. The smuggler stumbled backward. Jet shoved him hard in the chest and the muscled man toppled over the table and his unfinished beer.

"Faye!" Jet shouted in warning.

The woman turned at his voice, seeing one of the thugs ball his fist and advance to pummel her. She ducked and threw her shoulder into his gut, using the Glock's barrel to assist her in tagging him in the process.

He was out of the fight, down for the count, dry heaving with his hands on his junk.

The man she had earlier pistol-whipped rose and ran at her, the bloodlust apparent in his angry eyes. She promptly ducked again and stuck out her leg, which he ran right into. He was sent stumbling into the bar and smacked right into Spike.

The still unbroken egg slipped out of his hand to bust on the floor.

"The fuck," Spike barked. Anger boiled inside his chest.

The pub's door flung open and four more similarly dressed men ran in, all familiar with Merle and the two men sprawled on the floor. They looked around at the fray, briefly orienting themselves with the situation. It took only seconds, but Jet and Faye knew they couldn't hold off the newcomers.

"My egg! I needed that," Spike seethed. "Everything's so not fine!"

He jumped and shoved the stool away from the counter, standing up and tugging out his Jericho 941 from its holster. He snarled, racking the pistol and without aiming, started firing off round after round directly at the smugglers who had just entered the building.

They scattered to hide behind anything they could find, knocking tables on their sides to use as makeshift shields as he channeled his frustrations into the gunmetal.

Spike turned to the downed man who had run into him. He smashed the man's bloody face into the egg mess with his boot. "That's for ruining my milkshake," he hissed.

Behind him, Jet's left fist smacked into Merle's jaw, his torso bending in half at the waist with the momentous effort. He breathed out, struggling to catch his breath with the strain.

The drug smuggler bounded into the back wall. His head shot side to side, looking for a way out while Jet was preoccupied with the small group of his followers that had come in to join them.

When his attention returned to their main target, Merle was nowhere to be seen. Their intended target escaped.

Faye dove for Jet's discarded pistol as the newcomers began to retaliate. She threw herself back on the floor. With her own gun, she covered them with gunfire until she could return Jet's firearm to him. Her dress hitched up her legs, the thigh holsters now in full view. Vibrant green panties peeked out from the inside at the apex of her legs.

Spike barreled out of the way of blazing bullets zooming past. "Shit!"

Lying on the ground next to Faye, he ejected the empty magazine and inserted a fresh one into his black pistol. From his position, he spied the material. "Really. Lime green, huh," he stated casually. A smirk showed up on his mouth.

Faye pursed her lips and cow kicked him in the chest. "Stop looking, pervert."

"We gotta get, fast," Jet grunted. He caught the pistol Faye tossed up to him.

"What about the bounty-" Faye started, the surprise coating her voice.

The big man shook his head. "It's no good. Let's go before we're shot all to hell!"

With Jet laying down cover fire, Spike hauled Faye to her feet, then angled his body to pop off a few rounds at their opposition. He snatched up the milkshake on his way and followed the other two out the back exit and into the alley.

Outside next to the dumpsters, Faye watched for any signs of their fleeing quarry while Jet fetched the car parked on the other side of the alley. She turned at the door opening, relaxing when she saw Spike. He made a face as he sucked up the shake.

"You went back for that?"

He swallowed. "It's not as good without some egg in it. No tip for him."

Faye tried to hide the smile he unknowingly put on her face. Though the man liked to mess around, making light of certain situations, never mind how dire they may be, he made her heart a little lighter. Every day. His presence settled her. His lack of emotional awareness, however, would get him into serious trouble someday.

Jet drove the car up to them, skidding to a halt.

Pulling at Spike's shirt, Faye dragged him to the car, pushing him through the now open door. She shoved him further to climb in herself.

The junk car didn't look like much, though it got them from point A to B with no hesitation. The engine's rumble turned into a roar as Jet sped away. "Watch for that slimebag," Jet said.

They entered the main, busy streets, blending in with the locals. People walked along from one area to another. Other vehicles on the streets passed by in a rush. There were so many, Faye couldn't distinguish after a certain distance. "I don't know, Jet. I don't see him. Sorry."

"Hmm. Well. This blows. Not what I expected." Jet made a sound with his mouth and flicked the air freshener hanging under the rectangle mirror.

Faye nodded. "We'll try again. Another day, sometime."

"Sometime," Jet repeated. He looked at her in the mirror. "You mean another year. That guy's evaded the cops and bounty hunters alike for half a decade. He's not stupid."

There was an empty, sipping sound.

They both turned to Spike, who had finished his mediocre milkshake. He seemed to be doing a little better than earlier in the day. His eyes were a little brighter, almost back to normal.

From the other side of the backseat, Spike peered at Faye from his position, his head resting on the armrest. He took in her ragged appearance after their small bar fight.

Bounty work did a number on her.

He licked the whipped cream off the straw and said, "Yea. Next time it'll be a thousand times harder 'cause he knows who we are."

#cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop fic #spike spiegel #spike x faye #AU #bounty hunters #ff.net #ao3 #CapAleran2 #andyswrite #im terrible at tagging things

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 9: A Puzzle with No Edges

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The protection spell is cast, which means the time has come to identify their enemy. Easier said than done. Things get a little complicated when henchmen arrive with their eyes set on Cadence.

[READ IT ON AO3]

He’s ready to flinch away when Ryder presses the still-smoking charred end to the back of his hand — but doesn’t need to. The tightly-wound bundle of herbs is warm but doesn’t burn. Just leaves smeared black ash in its wake.

“Not to break your concentration or anything…”

“Then don’t.”

“Too late. This stuff isn’t permanent, is it? Like, it’ll come off?” All he can think is how so not happy the company director will be if he shows up to rehearsal with occult symbols twirling up his arms. Especially when the Oberon costume is pretty much sans shirt.

Ryder doesn’t stop as he carefully traces the symbols from Ivy’s borrowed tome. “And here I was thinkin’ you wanted to be protected.”

He does. “I do! I just —”

“Stop being an asshole, Ryder. Once the spell is complete it’ll basically act like a magical cloak. The smudge ash is just a conduit. You’ll be fine.”

Katherine leans over Taylor’s shoulder; watches with the curiosity of someone who doesn’t have anything better to do. And since she explained how, once she and Cadence were sure they were off the tail of Persephone’s — and Lady Smoke’s — henchmen, she was back on standby until the vampire had use of her again? She really doesn’t.

“Good to know.” Taylor sighs in relief; lets Ryder keep drawing.

He stops just below the crook of Taylor’s elbow and switches to the next arm. Taylor’s trying his best not to squirm but he can’t help it — this shit tickles! Makes him yank his arm to the side involuntarily.

Ryder just grunts, yanks, and wipes away the mistake with a bit of spit on the pad of his thumb.

“Ew.”

“Get over it.”

There’s a quick rap of knuckles on the open front door. Of the four apartments only two are in use so there’s not much worry about who it is.

Ryder pulls back and takes Taylor’s wrists in his. Inspects his work with gentle turns and doubled-back looks at the instructions in the book. Cal appears with a brief crinkle of his sensitive nose but smiles and waves nevertheless. Only when Taylor tries to wave back Nik grunts and holds his arm tighter.

“How goes it?” Cal takes up the empty armchair opposite them. Looks to Taylor like he knows what’s going on and isn’t that a laugh.

“Good, I think?” He leaves his words hanging in the hopes that Nik might take up the lead but… not exactly. “Sure, we’ll go with good.”

The Nighthunter tosses the half-burnt bundle into a silver dish. “That Hunter’s Sage was good shit, Lowell.”

“Does that mean it’s helping?”

He picks up the book and settles it in his lap; twirls a stone pendant in his fingers as he reads. “Time to find out.”

The fact that Katherine steps back doesn’t settle well in Taylor’s stomach. Even the smile she offers is only halfway reassuring. So instead he looks to the werewolf for comfort — and Cal holds his gaze like he’s holding Taylor’s hand to help him through it.

The air is thick with the lingering smell of charred herbs. Even with the windows open the muggy Southern evening makes the sweat on the back of his neck cling to him. Coats him tacky and unsure.

The fact that Ryder and Katherine can still wear their leather gear without complaint is either a serious power move or just plain supernatural. Both are viable options at this point.

Ryder wraps the pendant’s leather cord in his fist and holds it aloft; dips the chipped yellow stone into a glass bowl still foaming at the mouth with all the ingredients they’d procured from Luc’s back rooms. It comes out dripping with the pearly brew — not even a drop wasted as it swings wide and stops over Taylor’s marked arms.

Despite the fact that Taylor himself had taken the ingredients off of the dutch oven on the nearby stove each drop is cold as ice as it falls onto the runes — seeps into his skin, his bones and chills him all the way down to the marrow.

“Nos rejecto nostro quod mortale est a servis suis ut altius virtute. Ubi autem non est datum quaerere Sanctuarii. Itaque accepimus ipsis facti ignara cladis virtutes invocare. Postulamus illorum tutela…”†

No one dares interrupt the Latin curling on Ryder’s tongue. Not just for the sake of the spell — there’s a beauty to his careful incantation that holds them captive listeners. Willing, but captive.

No way the small surface of the stone should hold as much of the potion as it seems to. Even when it hangs closer to his eyes Taylor can’t see a porous surface or hole to drip from. But now probably isn’t the time to question the mechanics of magic.

Careful not to miss a word Ryder’s finger traces underneath the hand-written invocation. “Postulamus ab oculis eorum. Hoc tu arcebis auferat sua mala, et a dolore suo. Praesidio cute quod tactus de turpi, ex quo sanguis malus est animus a nequitia sua.”

The thought I’m going to get through my first spell without freaking out isn’t even fully formed when it becomes a lie.

When a strange tingling besets across the surface of the runes. Pinpricks of tiny needles like his arms have fallen asleep but only where the ash is drawn.

It’s probably just the spell. It’s definitely just the spell. It’s just the spell, right?

Only he’s a tingled breath away from asking when Ryder — like he’s sensed Taylor’s interruption — holds up a finger.

“Et hoc usque dum facinus patratur malum exitum.”

It stops in sync with Ryder’s chant. With the droplets from the stone which Ryder tosses aside; no longer of use.

Only he keeps reading — doesn’t give indication good or bad whether the spell worked or not.

Thankfully Taylor isn’t the only impatient one. Not when Cal not-so-subtly coughs into his fist.

“So is that it? Did it work?”

Please, please say it worked.

Katherine shrugs — but steps forward back into potential harms’ way. “No one blew up so that’s a good sign.”

“I didn’t know — seriously?” If Taylor looks between the hunters any quicker he’s going to get whiplash. “That was on the table? Why didn’t you tell me that was on the table?”

“Because it wasn’t,” explains Nik curtly, “not when I’m the one casting. Kathy on the other hand — she’s got a reputation for that kind of thing.” He finally pries himself away from Ivy’s book to give his rival a sardonic raise of his eyebrows.

“Touché.”

But Cal hasn’t gotten his answer and makes a point in telling them. “Just ‘cause no one blew up doesn’t mean it worked. Did. it. work? Is he protected?”

Maybe the way Ryder lets his hand linger on Taylor’s knee is a bit awkward — but not uncomfortable. Like his touch is an extension of the spell. He even gives what may be the first look of hope Taylor’s ever seen.

“We can’t be certain until we’re outta the Shift’s wards but yeah; yeah I think so.”

It’s good news. Arbitrarily good, but good — and boy does he need a dose of good right about now.

“We should go tell the others.” Taylor stands and tucks Ivy’s book at his side.

“We should start workin’ on tracking down what’s after you.”

“Why not both?” It doesn’t take supernatural senses to know there’s another round of bickering on the horizon — so Cal takes it upon himself to pluck the book in hand; gestures to Taylor’s smudge-tattooed forearms.  “We’ll start team strategy downstairs and, Taylor, if you wanna get rid of all that?”

Yes, yes he wants to very badly.

Ryder frowns, starts to argue; “This ain’t a team sport — hey! Kujo, get back here with that book!” And is caught between standing his ground and doing his job when Cal darts out towards the hallway staircase.

Katherine gives a shake of her head but doesn’t do much to hide her bemusement at their antics. “Go on,” she tells Taylor on her way out, “I’ll make sure they don’t throttle each other. At least not until you can bet on the winner.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He closes the door behind her — closes it, but doesn’t turn the lock just in case — and heads to shower off the spellwork.

“I asked nicely, Smith. Now I’m telling; calm down before I have to rethink lifting your ban!”

“Come on Garrus, but him some slack. He’s excited.”

“Well an excited vampire does not a friendly and relaxed environment make! At least move all this to a table — I don’t have any room to serve drinks!”

The rest of the Shift comes into view when Taylor finishes rubbing his hair dry and tosses the towel over his shoulder.

Sure enough Cadence — still imposingly tall with Krom sitting at a booth — hovers over a spread of papers, folders, and what look like newspaper clippings scattered across the bartop.

Garrus huffs with two large wooden steins filled to frothing in his hands. Practically shoves them at Cal on the other side of the bar with a flippant and frustrated gesture to the customers waiting while engrossed in their billiards at the front.

Katherine continues defending Cade — though at this point it seems a little more involved than simple loyalty to her employer. It’s the same concern she had for him in the cage fight.

Only he hopes this won’t end similarly.

“I can’t believe you’re not interested, Garrus,” Cadence laughs with borderline hilarity; opens a manila folder and pulls out thick embossed paper that oozes age and historical importance. “Or was I only interesting when I was shiny and fresh from the war?”

“Oi!” barks Ivy from her booth; looking up from the page Ryder has her tome open to, “that’s not fair and you know it.”

Katherine knocks the tip of her boot into the vampire’s leg — draws a long sigh from him.

“Very well… you’re right. Apologies, Garrus.”

“As long as he’s throwing insults and not his fists like he did in that cage I couldn’ give less of a shit.” As Cal passes Taylor he ruffles the damp blond hair out of place with a silly grin.

“What’s going on…?”

Taylor wanders over; looks over the piles with passing curiosity before he makes his way to scooch in beside Ryder at the back.

“Another one of our dear mystery man’s wild wyvern chases.” comments Garrus with no less salt on his tongue.

“Goose chases.” corrects Krom absently.

“Hm? Oh, well, those too. Equally nasty creatures either way.”

Like always it’s Ivy who takes pity on Taylor’s lack of experience and knowledge. “Taylor, this is Cadence Smith; don’t let the lack of glamour fool you, though, he’s —”

“A vampire,” he nods and gives a small wave; isn’t surprised when it’s ignored in favor of Cadence’s thumbing through the papers for something specific, “I know. We met last night.”

Ivy gives an “ah” in understanding; “Then you got the life story then? Or — well — lack thereof.” And when he shakes his head she claps and giggles with glee. This is obviously a story she adores sharing. “Oh goody. And, pah, he’s too busy to tell it himself. So here’s how it goes. It’s a cloudy night in the summer of 1918…”

“Shouldn’t I be telling it, petal?” Garrus calls, “after all that was decades before your time. I was there.”

“Hush, momma’s regaling.” And it’s all the argument he has since the fae falls silent — returns to slicing lemons with a hum. “Now where was I? Ah — yes — it’s a cloudy night in the summer of 1918.

“Before you ask: yes that 1918. Half the world dead and the other half dying, and a half somewhere in the middle that can’t be bothered to care. This particular scene is set at the temporary wartime hospital Saint Marcellus. †† Pause for laughter —” — she does pause, though no laughter comes — “— well that’s disappointing.

“The beds are full, the bugs are a-buzzin’, and this summer was one of the worst. All those brave soldiers shipped back from the trenches only to deal with an all-too-familiar brand of torture from New Orleans herself. And in the Marcellus you’ve got wings for everything; for lost limbs, for limbs that needed losing, for bullet holes and for internal bleeding and for those who they didn’t really know what was wrong with ‘em, but they had to be shoved somewhere until someone figured it out.

“How did that middle-class education on world history do for you, Taylor,” Ivy dances the tips of her nails on the wooden tabletop, “like, what do you know about shell shock?”

He tries not to glance Cadence’s way — glad that he has a chance to avert his gaze before he gets caught staring.

“It’s what they used to call PTSD, right?”

Nik nods; a curt jerk of the chin. He’s definitely heard this story before but there’s a strange and uncharacteristic reverence in his silence.

Especially given how eager he’d been upstairs to get on with the hunt.

“They had a wing for that, too. That was the one the doctors at the Marcellus tried their best to keep empty — bad for morale, you know. And they did a bang-up job with everyone except for Cadence here. First they couldn’t get him to talk; not a sound or a written word to help him out. Then he started talking and they couldn’t get him to shut up.”

A deeper voice cuts her off. “I didn’t have a name nor tags to identify me. I’d been shipped all the way across the Atlantic in civvies for lack of a uniform. The moment the chief medical officer heard my accent he swore up and down every corridor for an hour — trying to find the incompetent fool who mistook a British soldier for an American one.”

Judging by the satisfied look on Ivy’s face she has no problem with Cadence jumping in to give a first-person account. Maybe she even expected it seeing as she goes right back to reading her book like she never said a word. Like she didn’t start it.

Cadence continues without looking up from a fragile folded newspaper. Cradles the old edition of The New York Times with sentimental longing. At his awkward angle Taylor has to stretch his neck in order to barely make out the headline.

ARMISTICE SIGNED, END OF THE WAR!

“I had been admitted as a mute with a severe case of trench foot and an undiagnosable allergy to direct sunlight. The infection they were content to amputate; the rest… attributed quickly to shell shock.

“They kept the curtains drawn and drilled me without end. Anything to get me to remember my name, my regiment, how I’d landed on the wrong side of the pond. Professionals, experts in their fields couldn’t crack me open. I was one angry Corporal away from being sent back to Europe when a London-born nurse lied and said I was her cousin. As far as anyone knew I very well could have been. I certainly didn’t argue.

“In truth she knew what would happen to me back on English soil. They didn’t call it shell shock there, they called it cowardice. She lied her way through missing documents and got me released to her care. She was a kind woman, Meredith LaPointe. Took me in while her own husband was looking at a future without his arms. Had two little ones — barely more than toddlers if I recall.

“Killing her is still my fiercest regret.”

The needle scratches on the proverbial record. Leaves Taylor gaping in shocked silence — aware with a bitter slap of reality to the face that no one will meet his eyes.

But it’s Cal’s first time hearing the story, too. And he’s not so quiet in the face of injustice.

“She saved your skin and you — you killed her? What the fuck?”

Only Cadence doesn’t answer; palms spread flat and wide on the bartop. Taylor swears he can see a small tremble in his broad shoulders.

Katherine speaks in his stead. “He didn’t know what he was.”

“Bullshit.”

“Believe what you will,” Cadence finds his voice back from some dark abyss, “but it’s the truth. A fortnight shut up in that ward and no amount of food they gave me did the trick. I didn’t even realize what I’d done until she was slumped on the floor at my feet.”

The wolf still snarls. “If you say you hurt those kids I swear to Christ…”

“No. I ran.”

“And put the rest of the city in danger.”

“No more than it already was. If I recall correctly your Pack took advantage of the poverty of the time. Something about the hunger of the wolf allowing them to extort rations.”

Cal lets out a primal growl. The wooden bar under his fingers groans — tries desperately not to yield.

It’s the twist and whip of a hand towel that snaps him out of it. Garrus practically flush with anger and glowering between the werewolf and vampire heatedly.

“The past is the past — let it go; both of you — before you,” — to Cade — “deal with another ban and you,” — to Cal — “find yourself out on the curb. Got it?”

They break eye contact but that doesn’t seem to be enough. Not when Garrus slams his palms down with an expectant look.

“I asked you boys a question; I expect an answer.”

“Got it.”

“Understood.”

“Good,” and the most terrifying thing about it is when Garrus resumes cleaning new glasses as though it never happened, “now, continue. You’re gettin’ to the best part.”

There’s a rueful twist to the vampire’s mouth but he continues anyway. “There isn’t much to tell after that. I found my way to the same place many lost souls did at the time; to the Graveyard Shift. Garrus was kind enough to put me up for a short while — gave me better forgeries for an identity and helped organize a meeting and arrangement with de la Rosa and his clan to get me blood when I needed it.

“And I’ve spent every year since working to recover my lost identity.”

There’s definitely a wow in there somewhere but Taylor’s having a hard time finding it. Instead awkwardly points between Cadence and Katherine — who answers his unasked question like she’s used to picking up at the end of story-time.

“He started hiring Nighthunters to help his crusade a few decades ago. The guy before me put up his standby job on the table in a high-stakes card game and I lost.”

“You make it sound like I treat you terribly.” Cadence scoffs. Gets a grin from his mortal companion.

“I just hate being at your beck and call.”

“Well I’ve gotten farther with you than I did the others. So you’re doing something right.”

“No shit. I’m me.”

“Indeed you are.” The looks they share are fond but there’s no mistaking the pain hidden behind the vampire’s useless spectacles.

As someone who has been there — suffered the struggle of self and identity — whether he’s a murderer or not Taylor only feels sympathy for him.

“So what’s this new information then? Something from the what’s-her-name you met with at Persephone?”

Cadence nods. “Isadora, yes. Among other things that turned up following her father’s death she discovered he had some digging done on my identity in secret. On their own they don’t go very far, but coupled with the favor Kathy here called in last month I think I may finally have some names to dig through.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, and also not our concern.” The look Nik gives him is full of reproach. “We can play private identity investigator all we like when we I.D. and gut your would-have-been killer.”

Taylor’s definitely more than a little amused by the ‘we’ aspect of that argument but prior banter tells him to let it go for the moment. It’s not like Ryder’s trying to divert them away from the real reason they’re all there.

Well, all except for Katherine and Cadence. They just seem to need a place to do… whatever it is they’re doing.

Ryder actually pushes back Taylor for a direct look to Ivy. “Did you bring those bestiaries from your collection?”

“I did.” But the revenant turns up her nose at him. Flexes her cheek muscles while her heavy leather platforms thud with her bouncing foot.

“So… can we look at ‘em?”

“You know you’re asking for an awful lot of favors without payment. The protection spell, the invocation tome, and now you want access to my carefully crafted and collected bestiaries — meanwhile I haven’t seen even a hint of a vial of payment from you.”

There’s Ivy’s playful banter and then there’s whatever she’s up to now — her eyes burning with hot pink embers and looking paler than usual; like the milky, glassy eyes of a corpse.

Maybe it’s because of the clothes she wears but sometimes Taylor forgets she’s somewhere between the living and the dead.

No way he’s forgetting now, though.

And he’s very, very content to not get involved in their shady (well, he suspects) dealings. Until Ryder is grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him head-on in Ivy’s direction.

“You’re tellin’ me you’re ready to turn a blind eye to this poor, cute face?” Oh, he’s despicable.

Makes Taylor try to worm his way out from between them; “Don’t get me involved in this!”

“That’s not fair!” Ivy pouts.

“Neither is the death sentence he’s been given.” He tries to grab Taylor’s jaw — dear god he will not be mimed like a puppet — but accepts the hand that bats his away as nope too far. “Is there no room in that heart of yours for his well-being?”

“You know as well as I do that my heart is withered and all shriveled up like a—like a raisin!”

Still her resolve is crumbling every time she’s unable to stop herself from looking Taylor in the eyes. He wants her to fight it solely on principle. But apparently Nik is just as well-versed in the art of weaseling his way out of payments as he is doing the things that get him paid.

She wails — an echoing thing befitting of her undead status — and covers her face with skeletal fingers. “I can’t run a business like this, Ryder! He’s just — just too damn cute!”

If it wasn’t helping him stay alive he’d resent that.

“Gah!” The sweet noise of Nik’s victory. “Get up — move it you fleshballs before I change my mind!”

Ryder tugs Taylor out of the booth with him. Gives Ivy a wide berth as she hauls her own butt out toting a large carpet-bag behind her.

She hauls the tremendous weight of the bag onto the tabletop and undoes several ornate-looking silver clasps. All in a careful order judging by the way she seals one or two back up and comes back to them later.

When she opens the bag there’s nothing Taylor can immediately see — even when he stands on the tips of his toes to look the only thing visible is a gaping, empty blackness.

The only way he can describe it? — He feels like he’s looking six feet under; like her body should be way down at the bottom even though Ivy herself said it burned to sinner’s ash long ago.

Ivy pushes up her sleeves; rubs her hands together like she’s itching for a fight. And like an eldritch hellspawn of Mary Shelley and Mary Poppins she reaches down — way down, like impossibly far down — into the bag to scavenge through contents unknown.

“Impressive, right?” asks Krom from his view still in the booth.

Taylor most certainly agrees. “Very Hogwarts.”

“Ha! Bitch, ask who did it first.” Were Ivy’s hands not otherwise occupied she wound definitely be pointing two thumbs at herself. “I know I packed them in here. I regretted not having them as reference on Carlo’s autopsy.”

The distant shatter of glass draws everyone’s attention — even the unwitting Garrus who steps back and looks for the mishap. Only when he realizes it’s not his fault, instead something fallen in her bag of horrors, the fae huffs in frustration and refuses to give Ivy any more of his attention.

Even though his ears twitch to every echoing sound.

“Fu—finally!” Taylor doesn’t get the time to debate the biological physics of Ivy’s breathlessness when he finds three aged tomes suddenly stacked in unprepared arms; each bigger and in worse shape than the last.

But of course she beams at him with teeth bleached white as bone and all struggles are forgiven. At least until the leather-bound edges reveal their bruises.

One by one Ryder takes the bestiary trilogy and goes about making his own Cadence-adjacent spread on the table. Nudges Krom and his poetry book out of the way to take up whatever space isn’t displaced by the carpet-bag of the void.

“These are great, Iv’. Thanks.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Makes her point by flicking the round of his ear. They both reach for Taylor at the same time but Ivy gets there first — loops her arm with his and sticks out her tongue (or the closest thing she has; truthfully he’s afraid to ask what exactly it’s supposed to be — because it certainly doesn’t look like a tongue) in childish victory.

“I don’t know where you think you’re goin’ but I need him to identify the big-and-ugly.” Ryder drolls.

“My payment will be in the form of mortal gold,” she pats Taylor’s arm reassuringly, “otherwise known as caffeine. You get to page-flipping and we’ll go on a coffee run for the lot.”

“Actually,” Garrus interrupts, giddy with glee, “I think I may have concocted —”

“Another time sugarplum!” As it is she’s already halfway to the front door.

The look on Ryder’s face is enough for Taylor to know if he really doesn’t want to go he doesn’t have to. That his body guard will, well, guard his body and keep him at the Shift.

But his legs are restless and sunset has always been his favorite time of day. So he’s grateful, but no thanks.

Plus… coffee.

Garrus volunteers an old drink specials chalkboard from the back when it gets obvious they’re going to need more than jotting down theories, ideas, and recollections on napkins. Mostly because he has to keep restocking the napkins.

If Ivy would just let them use little sticky notes on her bestiaries there wouldn’t be a napkin issue. But things snowball as they do and one thing leads to another. Which leads to the right-handed Katherine wrenching the chalk away from the left-handed Ryder to give them a less-smudged list of possible suspects.

THE GRAVEYARD SPECIALS HAPPY HOUR: Possessed Corpse(?) TO not likely—no relatives(friend?) buried in state

THIRSTY THURSDAY COMBO: BUY pursuit began before STL — can’t recall if other being/s present GET 5 6 7(?) holy light arrows = barely a scratch HALF OFF!! AMAZING DEAL!!

Among various scribbled (and crossed out) suggestions both sleuthed and thrown out by the resident experts.

Thankfully Cal and Krom are about as versed in the finer details of the supernatural kingdom as Taylor is; makes him feel better about not really being able to contribute other than rehashing the events of that night for the umpteenth time.

But is it all in vain?

The list keeps going on — Katherine’s resorted to adding her words to the embellished paint border around the board. A fact or prediction will cause them to double-back and cross one theory out but one takes its place not a minute later.

When Cadence’s curiosity was piqued enough for him to offer help, Katherine had mentioned the vampire’s penchant for, how did she put it: “long, boring research projects.”

The fact that he and Ivy seem to be the only ones getting a real hoot out of the never-ending cycle they’ve trapped themselves in probably says it all.

Taylor uncrosses his legs; hops down from his latest attempt at unconventional comfort on the pool table and makes for the door.

“Whoa there — where are you headin’?”

He’s relieved Ryder doesn’t announce it to the whole bar. Up front Cadence tries yet again to explain the difference between a vengeful spirit and a poltergeist to Cal. But the wolf keeps insisting all “spectral ghoulies” are the same.

Hopefully the smile he gives his bodyguard doesn’t make him seem ungrateful.

“I was just gonna get some air.”

He would have the same look of ‘seriously’ that Nik has if their positions were reversed. If he didn’t know what it felt like to feel so damn useless like he does right now.

“You realize all this —” with a wave backwards, “— is for you, right? Everyone puttin’ in their time and knockin’ their heads together; it’s all so you can be safe.”

Way to make him feel like the biggest piece of shit to ever live.

Only this time his thoughts bleed through — his tongue edged like a razor. “Wow, really? I had no fucking clue. Thanks for the update!”

And despite the guilt knotting in his stomach and all the rules on self-sacrifice he’s been unlearning for too damn long Taylor turns on his heel and practically marches out of the Shift.

Of course he immediately feels terrible the moment the air hits his face. Wants to turn around and practically march back in; push himself into the conversation to help as best he can. Even if all he can do is repeat every. single. detail of the attack.

But he’s trying to prove a point. So he doesn’t. He tells that nagging voice in the corner of his thoughts to stop trying to make it out like he’s seeking attention and makes himself comfortable on the curbside.

Or at least… he tries. Are there points for trying when he doesn’t want to be disturbed but can’t seem to shake the weirdest and most flippant bodyguard in the whole city? Well since it’s his point system he decides that yes, yes there are points; a good dozen of them — two if Nik starts lecturing him on the risks everyone inside the Shift is taking on his behalf.

What this point system will lead up to exactly Taylor isn’t sure. But it’ll be something good — like a giant platter of beignets when this is all over.

“Y’know what occurs to me, Rook?” They have to look like street comedians, the pair of them. Nik’s coat is so spread out it might as well look into buying real estate on the sidewalk.

When he doesn’t get an answer Nik tries again — this time nudges his shoulder with more gentle caution than he thought the man was capable of.

“I said, ‘y’know what occurs to me, Rook?’”

“Dunno who you’re talking to — can’t be me. That isn’t my name.”

“All right, listen here wise-ass —”

“No you listen.” Theatrically it was a very bold choice to interrupt but definitely added drama to the scene. Except now he has to follow through on account of Nik actually listening.

So he steels himself — accepts internal defeat at not getting those two dozen points — and gives the hunter something to listen to.

“I get it, okay? I get how important this is and I get how much I need to appreciate a bunch of randoms I’ve known for less than the time it takes for me to finish a pint of ice cream in my freezer all coming together and helping me find out what’s trying to get me. And I do appreciate it; all of it.

“Garrus for putting me up, Krom and Ivy for trying to help me make sense of everything. Cal for sticking by my side and, hell, even Kathy and Cadence for pitching in what they know. And you—Nik—you’re running around this city on empty but that’s not stopped you from doing your job once.

“I see it; everything you guys are doing, and it blows my literal freakin’ mind because I’ve never really been the kind to just let myself be helped. But I don’t know what else to do except sit there and take it because I can’t… I mean I’m…”

He struggles to find the right way to say it; is definitely a little more than irritated because no doubt Nik is enjoying all his bravado suddenly wilting. That is until he catches the strange (but no less obvious) look of open understanding he’s being given.

Yeah that definitely doesn’t help him get his words out any easier.

But Nik doesn’t look ready to interrupt him without hearing what should have been a strong conclusion to his vented frustrations. So…

“I don’t know what to do because I’m useless. At least for this kind of crazy. So I’m not going to apologize for needing some space when I’m not really contributing much to the conversation anyway.”

The street is mostly empty — all signs point to the parties a couple blocks up and over. But Nik actually waits until a small group of couples are well out of earshot before he speaks.

“Get it all out?”

“What?”

“I asked if you got everythin’ out of your system. I’ll shut up if not.”

Taylor rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you were quiet for that long.”

“It was a struggle, I’ll admit,” Nik’s mouth twists into a rueful half-smile, “but I know sometimes you just gotta say your piece. So keep goin’ if you need to.”

After a moment; “No — I think I got it all out. All I can think about, anyway.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re wrong.”

“Great — here we go —”

Nik gives a light backhand to Taylor’s arm. “I let you go, now can I get a turn?”

“Not if you’re just going to lecture me.”

“How would you know what I’m gonna say? Y’ain’t lettin’ me say it.”

And he only frowns because Nik makes a fair point. Begrudgingly settles himself in and avoids eye contact for what little dignity he has left to be spared a verbal lashing.

“I won’t sit here and argue every little point, ‘kay? Frankly we just don’t got that kinda time. Hell — I won’t even try and tell ya all the thoughts I have on that ‘useless’ comment. And trust me; I’ve got a fair few.

“‘Cause that’s how you feel, Rook. No amount a’nothin’ will change that. Not until somethin’ happens that changes your mind for yourself. But if you sit out here kickin’ pebbles and feelin’ bad for yourself what’re the chances of that one thing happenin’ anyway? Slim to none, if you ask me.”

“I don’t think I did ask you.”

“Roo—Taylor,” he turns them face to face this time; no longer content with avoidance, “I’m trying to help here. To give you space, tell you that yeah — all this shit is crazy and it’s easy for people like us to feel like we don’t got a seat at the table. But if you won’t even listen to what I’ve gotta say then I ain’t gonna waste my breath.”

Okay, bad idea. Because he feels bad enough but seeing the exhaustion wrinkled in the hunter’s forehead, the developing dark circles under his eyes? Nik’s not kidding — he’s one petulant quip away from straight up leaving Taylor alone.

Isn’t that what he wanted, though? At least when he came out here it had been. Now he’s not so sure.

But something Nik said isn’t sitting right. “‘People like us?’” he repeats, “that’s not… we’re not…” Nik knows so many things. Knows the spells and the weapons and who to avoid and who to cross. They may both be human but that’s like saying Krom and Ivy are first cousins.

Nik though, like the damn mind reader he is, shakes his head.

“Every Nighthunter was innocent once. Me, Kathy — there’s about as many ways to get into the life as there are ways to stay outta it but don’t think just ‘cause I know what I’m talkin’ about now that I always did.”

There’s a tug on Nik’s coat; makes him whip around and give the sleek black shoe and the suited man wearing it the bird and a snarl. “Watch it buddy.”

The man says nothing and enters the Shift. But Nik seems content to pick a fight another time and lets him go.

Looks back to Taylor in that same uncomfortably honest way that makes the butterflies in his stomach start to twist themselves into knots.

“Y’know what occurs to me, Rook?” he repeats his question again, now and after all this. Taylor isn’t even remotely surprised. This time he’s a little more receptive to it. Maybe Nik was onto something about speaking his piece.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t groan to show his reluctance before answering; “What occurs to you, Nik?”

This victory smile is small and short-lived but no less important.

“It occurs to me that I don’t know much about you.”

“Seriously?”

His protest goes ignored. “So how ‘bout after we narrow down the usual suspects we change that? Get Gar’ to fry up some onion rings or summin’ and take the rest of the night to make sure that protection charm holds good and tight?”

Well that was unexpected.

“Are you…?”

“What?”

“I mean, I just — it sounded like…”

“Words, Taylor; they’re for more’n just startin’ sentences.”

Are you asking me on a date, Nik Ryder? He wants to ask; he’s even ready to play it off as a joke. But given how things have gone the last few minutes, nay hours, he just brushes it off with a laugh and; “Are you trying to permanently distract me with the promise of onion rings?”

Together they stand — already Taylor’s trying to think of ways to explain or lie his way through whatever questions everyone inside will ask about his blustery exit. Then Nik is grabbing him by the arms and coaxing him off the curb. Keeping him from being trampled by three more suited men heading inside the bar.

“Is Garrus throwing a special we didn’t know about?” he laughs; means it as a joke.

But the way the Nighthunter’s brow furrows isn’t joking. Not at all.

“What,” it takes Taylor a second to realize Nik’s glower is over his shoulder at the door, “what’s up?”

“Here’s a lesson for you —” —Nik’s gravelly voice is suddenly so low he has to lean in just to hear him— “— somethin’ to remember about this world we’re in. ‘Cause there’s weird, and there’s weird-weird. Shit that don’t even make sense in a bar full’a creatures.

“And four suits comin’ to Garrus’ at this time’a day — ‘specially when every coven, clan, and pack is celebratin’ Mardi Gras — is weird-weird.”

But they aren’t going to not go back inside. Even as ‘useless’ and mortal as he is Taylor knows that. And doesn’t resist when Nik gives him a light pull back and behind him.

“You stay behind me, got it?”

“No arguments here.”

“For once.” It’s a reply on some sort of instinct — doesn’t develop into their usual bickering half for the situation and half for the fact that Nik doesn’t waste any time yanking open the Shift door as a man on a mission.

They pass through the threshold and into an invisible fog of tension.

Nik’s right; though they arrived separately the suits are together and — a little more than that — two of them have handguns aimed forward. It doesn’t take supernatural senses to know they have every intent to use them.

“Maybe I wasn’t speaking loudly enough,” says Garrus — who looks more flustered and angry than Taylor thought the fae had in him, “but you. are. not. welcome. here. So leave before this gets ugly. The next time I have to say it, it won’t be a suggestion.”

“Everything all right here, Garrus?” Nik calls. Makes one of the armed men turn for a fraction of a second before he focuses back on the group ahead.

Only it occurs to Taylor how weird-weird it is that they don’t bother turning around — or didn’t bother locking the door behind them for that matter — when confronted with new arrivals.

Means, perhaps, that whatever they’re facing at the front is too dangerous to even consider looking away.

Judging by the way Cadence stands — one arm thrown out as a barrier to Katherine, upper lip twitching in a flicker of a snarl, eyes the same burning red as they had been while fighting the Minotaur — yeah; that’s the case for certain.

Garrus scoffs his answer. “Besides the fact that these imbeciles apparently need a refresher on the definition of a sanctuary, just peachy!”

“We’ll be happy to leave once we’ve got who we came for.” barks one of the suited men. “And not a moment before.”

“You idiots,” Ivy sneers, “you won’t even be able to fire those things in here without the wards handing you your asses on a platter.”

“It’s not the act, but the threat behind it.”

Cadence steps forward. Like a dance one of the men goes to step back on instinct until his partner holds him fast. The vampire sweeps his ruby gaze across the line they form. “Am I wrong? Your boss wouldn’t send you in here without warning you about the wards first.”

“Enough yakkin’. You either come with us willingly or as a body in a bag. Your choice, Smith.”

“If you’re going to act like you don’t have ears…” Even Taylor can’t suppress a shudder at the warped, demonic lilt to Ivy’s threat. The hunger in her fiery eyes.

But Krom holds her back — the only one who looks like bullets would bounce right off of him but also the most fearful of the lot. “Ivy don’t, please…” he whispers.

“Care to catch a guy up?” Nik tries again. Katherine leers at him over the black-suited shoulders.

“They’re here for Cade, dumbass. Three guesses who they work for.”

Nik nods, something unspoken passing in the undercurrent of her response. He gives a few jaunty steps and even tempts fate so far as to pat one of the armed man on the shoulder. Brings Taylor around with a hand on his wrist only to push him out of harms way to the corner of the bar.

“Well you gotta admire their work ethic.”

“Do we, though?”

“Yeah!” He sizes up the goons — steps back with a challenge in his arms spread wide. “More so when you think a’those wards Garrus mentioned. D’you know what happens to firearms, Gar’? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

Garrus practically growls. “It’s not pretty.”

A ripple of unease starts to break the would-be kidnappers’ bravado. Fingers flex on triggers. A bead of sweat trickles down and stings in one’s eyes.

“If Lady Smoke wants to speak to me she can come herself,” snarls the vampire, “since she obviously knows how to find me.”

“Not just you.”

It’s an empty threat in the safety of the Shift’s wards but the damage is done; makes Cadence rush forward with an open fist ready to catch the speaker at his throat.

“Cade — no —!” Garrus calls too late.

A bright flash of light momentarily blinds them — but even as Taylor goes to shield his eyes he watches an invisible force of incredible strength send Cadence flying backwards and into the bar. The wood is solid, refuses to yield, and he sinks down onto the floor just as Katherine rushes to help him stand.

Apparently the wards aren’t just against goons — but anyone ready to cause harm.

The henchman rubs his throat, probably near wetting himself at the knowledge of how close he came to the same end as the Minotaur, and has the gall to manage a half-grin. “Well that’s handy.”

“What the fuck does Smoke want?” Kathy shouts through gritted teeth.

“What she’s owed.”

“She isn’t owed shit!”

Cadence rubs the back of his head with a groan. “I gave up what she owed me.”

“You don’t offer up a nickel and take the whole damn safe. Not in this town. Not when it comes to Lady Smoke.”

Katherine looks ready to test the boundaries of the wards; at the very least with her words. But Cadence’s hand on her arm as she helps him stand holds her back.

“Fine, I’ll go —”

“Like hell you wi —”

“If only to right this fucking business of favors and what’s owed.” The look Cade gives her isn’t one to be argued with. Not that it’s stopped her before. But even from across the room Taylor feels the same unease that he had back watching the vampire in the cage.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rather than outright refusing Nik plays his cards a little closer to his chest. Gives Cade a stern look that promises help if he needs it — which might be very soon judging how things have escalated so far.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway.”

“Smart choice.” With a gesture from the same shiny-shoe asshole who stepped on Nik’s coat the guns get tucked away. Whether they can be seen or not it doesn’t change the fear they bring. “Get a move on. Lady Smoke doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Cadence scoffs. “She may have power over many things but not even Tonya Reimonenq can control the sun and moon. She can wait until it’s safe for me to leave.”

Compelled by the lurch in his stomach Taylor flies forward; bolts around the table as if fucking compelled and pushes Ryder aside to grasp for the vampire’s arm.

“What did you say?”

Cadence looks like he’d forgotten Taylor even existed. “What? Let go.”

“That name — say it again.”

“Rook?” He feels Ryder’s concerned touch but couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Say it again.”

But confusion aside, Cadence does; “Tonya Reimonenq — Lady Smoke.”

What are the damn odds?

†incantation full translation (taken from google translate): "We cast aside our place as mortal servants to a higher power. Where we seek sanctuary none has been given. Thus we take it upon ourselves to invoke powers who have gone blind to our plight. We demand their protection. We demand their sight. You will ward away this evil and its sorrows. Protect this skin from foul touch, this blood from ill intent, this mind from wicked ways. Do so until the deed is done and evil has met an end."

††Saint Marcellus: Marcellus is a name derived from Mars, the Roman god of war. Ivy finds it funny that a hospital was named after violence. (Saint Marcellus is/was not a real hospital.)

#nightbound #playchoices #choices fanfiction #nik ryder #nik ryder x mc #cal lowell #katherine nightbound #oc: cadence smith #ivy #krom #garrus #nightbound mc #mc: taylor hunter #oblv: bound by circumstance #oblv: new chapter #; my fics

[mojoflower]

Teen Wolf mpreg fic recs (99% Sterek, 1% Steter)

I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus 22 E, 136k, Complete.  “We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“  //  “Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.  //  “He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.  //  Or the one where Derek gets attacked by hunters, ends up with amnesia and forgets Stiles is his mate.

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Stiles, Alpha Derek, but Stiles is a BAMF, BAMF Stiles, presumably Actual Derek is also a bamf, but College Derek is pretty useless, Heh heh

Wow, this story just grabbed me and didn't let me go and now it's the end of a full day and I have no excuse for abandoning everything except that I was really involved and enjoying the plot.  //  Stiles is such a fucking badass, I love this, he's super-smart and strategizes and handles everything that comes up like a pro and it's totally easy to see why they have such a large and powerful pack. 'College Derek', meanwhile, is a complete sexist asshole (with the whole Alpha/omega thing) who says some super hurtful things in the first half out of sheer ignorance mostly -- although occasionally it's spite. Stiles handles it as well as he can, trying to hide that it hurts and striking back because he has backbone for god's sake... but his bondmark is slowly fading and that's terrifying and tragic.  //  Meanwhile, the Silva pack is due to arrive with some manifest bad intentions, and Peter is lurking around stirring up trouble, and it's a really fucking bad time for Derek to not remember who he is, because it makes their pack vulnerable.  //  Great story.

The Lighthouse Keeper by tugela54 E, 75k, Complete.  On a rural island just off Alaska’s northern Inside Passage, stands a centuries old lighthouse - the perfect sanctuary for its keeper to hide when the moon is full, to burn and rage through its cycle with the townsfolk being none the wiser.  //  But then a new resident comes to Beacon Harbour – a bright-eyed young student chasing an elusive whale species – and all of a sudden those thick stone walls seem paper thin…

Bottom Stiles, Like Whoa,  

 Whoa, that was an intense climax, I'm kinda breathless. Great story. Stiles is earnest and funny (and sooo hot for the giant, hairy, handsome man -- when author says size difference they are not messing around and it's mentioned frequently) and Derek is monosyllabic and awkward. They figure it out eventually, and there is hot sex (did I say size difference and hirsuteness?). Laura's a great werewolf-sister (Derek is the only werewolf) and her son Seth is a cutie. The cast of characters (Chris, Jordon, Finstock, Angus, Gladys and the two First People Miriam and Jonah) are interesting and fleshed-out. Love the plot, and the take on Derek's werewolf (not Teen Wolf style), love the First People lore and rituals, love the setting waaay up in Alaska on this tiny island.  //  (Don't let Major Character Death tag scare you, you're gonna be just fine.)

Hey Lover, I Got a Sugarcane by pibroch (littleblackdog) Steter, E, 17k, Complete.  [References to Mpreg rather than straight-up #mpreg]  “Put Peter on the phone,” Stiles says, too sharp to be polite.  //  “What?” Derek sounds completely thrown. “Stiles, I don’t think— Okay, you’re obviously not understanding what’s happening here. Peter isn’t talking. He’s basically just growling at this point, and he’s rounding on anyone that gets too close. He actually bit me when I tried to take back my pillow. I nearly lost a thumb.”  //  “Derek.” The reality of this shitshow of a situation is finally kicking in, undeniably, and Stiles needs to hear Peter’s voice. “Just trust the omega, okay? Tell him it’s me, and give him the damn phone.”  //  ---"Wrangling Rut-Drunk Alpha Boyfriends 101" by Stiles Stilinski, omega and responsible adult person.

I've loved other things I've read by this author

Delicious. And also funny.

I've Got A Sure Thing by skoosiepants  T, 11k, Complete.  Stiles's water breaks ten miles outside of Beacon Hills.

Fox Stiles, Werefox Stiles, Daddy Stiles

Precious: I love the style, it tumbles and tumbles over itself. Stiles is himself. Derek keeps hanging around, and he loves little Princess Leia. Cora keeps laughing at them. Stiles might be a little confused.

******

He calls Derek and says, “I think your entire family is here, dude,” and Derek roars, “What?” and, “Don't call me dude, “ and, “Fuck, I'll be right over.”

Derek shows up in his EMT uniform and with his partner Boyd, stoic and amused, and the wild look in Derek's eyes is probably as close to a panic as Stiles will ever see him in.

Derek says, “Oh my god, Laura,” and grabs for Prin just as Prin launches herself out of Laura's arms toward him. He swings her up in a practiced movement and settles her on his hip and Laura grins so wide her fangs are showing.

“The pack wanted to meet her, even Mom's here,” she says, gesturing toward a big black wolf that looks almost exactly like Derek in wolf form – the wolf lifts her head and sneezes at them, then goes back to nosing through Stiles's DVD collection.

“Mom,” Derek says, and holds Prin up so she hides his face. Prin tugs at his hair and knees him in the eye and giggles when he shoves her up so her tummy is balanced on the top of his head, it's so cute Stiles can hardly stand it, his life is insane.

“Okay,” Stiles says, clapping his hands together, “I'll make tea.”

I don't think that means what you think it means by ThroughTheTulips  M, 21k, 7 works, Complete.  Ever notice how aliens have mostly similar customs to humans in Stargate? There never seem to be words or concepts that just don't translate. For the most part that makes sense given how they were spread deliberately across the universe, but there should be more weird stuff.  //  So I made some. This is very fluffy and ridiculous. Enjoy.

I simply can't with this. What an unanticipated, hysterical delight.

 I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter  E, 52k, Complete (series is 132k of deliciousness)  [Implied Mpreg, rather than actual #mpreg].  Stiles finds a baby on the porch.  //  It looks exactly like him.  //  Well, this is awkward.

Favorite, read again, still a favorite

Funny and unique and gripping (and there's one part that's simply fucking heartbreaking, god every.time. I bawl like a baby). I love this so much. It's totally one of my return-again-and-again-comfort-fics (even though there's very little that's slow-paced and domestic about it).

 monday i can fall apart but by friday i'm in love by tryslora  M, 6k, Complete.  It's just past five in the morning and Stiles is barely awake, wearing only sleep pants that hang low below his pregnant belly, and he can't get the damned brand new jar of decaf coffee open. But he has a neighbor, and he's too tired to think that waking someone else up at this hour might not be the best (or politest) of ideas.

Alpha Derek, Omega Stiles, Caretaking,  

lol.  short and funny and sweet and Alpha!Derek is a caretaker (and pregnant omega!Stiles is a sass-spewing dork)

 finger on the trigger and all fired up by tryslora  E, 6k, Complete  [Implied Potential Mpreg rather than #mpreg].  Derek goes undercover to expose a drug trafficking ring running inside of a porn studio. What he finds is Stiles.

Hot and funny.

 I'm Not Immune by moodwriter  E, 24k, Complete.  “Did they inject anything into you? You can hold me back. You can stop me. I can’t stop you.” Stiles is in full blown panic mode now.  //  The one where Stiles and Derek get kidnapped, and sex needs to happen for reasons.

Great story, grows as it's written. Follows a lot of emotional development, tangled in the godawfulfucking situation they're trapped in.

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica  E, 125k, Complete.  Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm.  //  Awesome.  //  And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts.  //  Joy.

Omega Stiles, Alpha Derek, Mpreg, Kidnapping, Stalking, cultural ramifications of a/b/o

So, Stiles, the omega-rights activist who never wants anything to do with an Alpha and wants to avoid any of that biological imperative bullshit, winds up pregnant a la Jane the Virgin. BUT. Derek is unwilling to commit, or even to have Stiles tell anyone who the baby-Daddy is. This could be because a complete psychopath has him in her targets.

Kate is one fuck-scary villain, just, crazy as a bag of cats and vicious with it, and the filth that comes out of her mouth is truly chilling.

Stiles gets kidnapped pretty early on, which is frightening enough, and then she's back for another try. At that point, he's kidnapped again, this time by Derek, who whisks him across the country to the Preserve, a werewolf compound in Maine. Here, Stiles is the only human, pregnant and vulnerable and trying to make a temporary life until the baby is born. But will it only be temporary?

There's love, sociopolitical musings, lots of angst, lots of danger. The baby is born about 3/4 of the way through the story, and then Kate comes around to terrorize everyone again. Even though Derek and Stiles are living in a house that's reinforced with bars and a panic room, she still manages to nearly burn Stiles and the baby…

 Rescue Me (& Take Me In Your Arms) by tumtatumtum  E, 34k, Complete (series is 37k so far).  Just when Stiles is starting to reach panic-attack levels of stress, a leather jacket and firm thigh are pressed right up next to him, and an arm is casually thrown over his shoulder. Stiles looks up to thank this kind person who is saving his life, and suddenly forgets what air is.  //  Because HOT. DAMN. Call the police and the fire-man, this guy is smoking.  //  Or the AU where Derek helps save Stiles from an ex, and a steamy BDSM relationship ensues- with feelings all over the place.

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sub Stiles, Dom Derek

Whoooaa, Nellie. Strap in for a ride, folks. Hot and also hilarious, which is a difficult combo to achieve. Loads of D/s sexy times. Stiles is precious. Derek is possessive and a wee bit insecure. They're awful fun to watch together.  ***The one where Stiles is Alpha Mate which magically means he starts leaking slick outta his ass, even tho he's human.

*******

[Kept trying to find this fic using key words bar and boyfriend and ex-boyfriend... which finally got me there. It's SO worth a re-read or ten.] I also tagged it with fake/pretend relationships, since it's fake for about the first 5 minutes, until Derek puts his hand on the back of Stiles' neck and Stiles moans and MELTS and lo, romantic and sexual interest is born.)

 It's a mad, mad world by ElisAttack  E, 74k, Complete [No #mpreg]  "They call him the Feral Wolf." The man laughs hysterically as Stiles backs away from him, fear coursing through his veins. "Feral Hale. Do you know why? Huh?" The man creeps closer, testing the restraint of his chains, white talcum falling from his skin, swirling in the air like the dust devils plaguing the wasteland. "Because he's fucking mad."  //  Or the one where Stiles is a prisoner looking to return home, but to do so, he may have to rely on a questionable drifter.

Really enjoyed this. Very interesting take on alpha/omega, haven't seen it before. And yay for apocalyptic mad max-type world. Scary as fuck.

a little advice for aspiring fires by The Byger (Byacolate)  E, 42k, Complete.  Regardless of his sadly lacking social circle, Stiles was going to have to get some physical contact or he was going to explode. Seriously. It’d be messy and Derek would probably become even more emotionally constipated having to clean up little bits of Stiles from his pristine walls and furniture.

Touch-Starved, Skin Hunger, Omega Stiles, Sassy Stiles, stiles talks CONSTANTLY, Mpreg, Kidfic

But We're Still Sleeping Like We're Lovers by CharWright5  E, 110k, Complete  [No #mpreg].  There are several things Stiles Stilinski knows to be facts: he's a werecoyote like his parents; his twin sister Malia could use a filter more than him; he's an Omega and terrified of his upcoming heat; and Derek Hale-McCall will never see him as anything more than his kid brother's best friend. Doesn't stop Stiles from asking the Alpha to help him during his heat. Or from developing some serious feelings that go beyond the bedroom. Basically, he's totally screwed, in more ways than one.

Fox Stiles, Creature Stiles, he's not a fox, but when I'm cruising that tag, I'll like to read this story

Idiot boys. Hot sex. More idiot boys. Angst. Fluff.

Jurisdiction by elisera  M, 7k, Complete (series complete at 20k).  John is a pretty level-headed guy. He wasn’t always, back during his own Sturm und Drang period, but he married a firecracker of a woman and got a kid with an affinity for trouble like he got payed for ending up in it, so someone had to level out or they would’ve ended up living in a treehouse or Lapland doing god knows what. Anyway, getting a hold of his temper is one of John’s better life achievements. It makes him a good sheriff and it kept him from blowing his lid too badly those last two years when Stiles started acting out in a way that John had never seen before.  //  But the temper is still there.  //  He’s reminded of it when he comes home on a random Saturday in March after spilling his milkshake all over his uniform shirt only to notice he didn’t have a spare in the station and finds Stiles bend over the kitchen sink with hunched shoulders.

Papa Stilinski is a total badass and mmm mmmm mmmm, so is Derek. Stiles has got some awesome muscle looking out for his best interests.

Into Something New by marguerite_26  E, 9k, Complete.  [Implied Mpreg rather than #mpreg].  Something is happening to Stiles. He’s losing time. Something is messing with his head, with his body. Maybe if he felt better he’d think to be worried.

 Nowhere Man by 1lostone  E, 76k, Complete.  [Mpreg (off screen)]  When Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, he does it without a backwards glance. For two years he is happy on the other side of the country- until someone targets not only him, but his daughter.  //  Unfortunately, the asshole bodyguard his dad hired to make sure he gets back home is none other than Derek Hale. And that's really not very good for either of them.

1lostone is, as always, the goddess of the lengthy, painful, disturbing, angsty, violent, sexy story. God, I love it.

The Second Coming (of Werewolf Jesus) by lupinus, uraneia  E, 40k, Complete.  Stiles was enjoying his senior year until his crazy English teacher decided he made the best candidate to gestate Derek's kid. Now Stiles is a seventeen-year-old pregnant dude and he and Derek have to figure their shit out, because in nine months they are going to be tied together for the rest of their lives.

Sweet: very fluffy and domestic.

Pride and Place by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)  E, 63k, Complete.  (Part of series A/B/O bodice rippers) [Mpreg, Discussion of mpreg, no men were pregnant in the making of this fic].  Derek Hale, Earl of Osterbrook, has inherited, following the death of Lord Montfort, a run down house in Yorkshire he neither needs nor wants, convinced his staff are robbing him, and with the mystery of a missing ward, he manages to get himself talked into a ridiculous bet, that he cannot pass as a steward until Midwinter, nearly two months away. So can he maintain the charade? Find the missing child? and manage to turn the shambles of a house around, or will he give up and let Peter take the thousand pounds he bet.  //  now with explicit epilogue - the rest of the story is teen rated though, so if you don't like the idea of explicit sex in your bodice rippers - just don't read that bit.

Great story.

The Well of Living Waters by kalpurna  E, 30k, Complete.  King Derek takes a consort.

 Within His Power by NoBezel  E, 69k, Complete.  [Discussion of mpreg]  Derek is a wolfish cyborg, brother of the Governor of California, heir to the Hale fortune. Stiles is a un-sequenced human in a world of designer DNA. When Derek is forced to choose a mate, no one expects him to choose Stiles. To be fair, Derek doesn't expect him to say no.

Pretty fucking phenomenal. Lots of world-building and political intrigue. If you're in it for the tropes, you'll be disappointed, but otherwise it's intense and dense and lovely.

The Threat of Human Sacrifice by vampireisthenewblack  E, 45k, Complete.  The sheriff bought a crib and made Derek help him put it together. Stiles thought of Hemingway and the shortest, most heartbreaking story ever told, and dismantled it on his own while Derek was out.  //  [The one where Stiles getting knocked up is the least of his worries.]

So excellent and intense.

The Honey and the Sting by the_ragnarok  M, 19k, Complete (series still wip)  Derek didn't remember what happened when he went into heat. He could only assume the worst. The truth may be stranger than that.

Beautiful.

Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel  E, 77k, Complete.  "So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.  //  God, he dreams.  //  He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

Fuck.

 Shifts by gryvon  E, 15k, Complete.  Stiles has what he's always secretly wanted - he's in a relationship with Derek and he's one of Derek's betas - but all that gets turned upside down when Gerard kidnaps him and his unexpected baby.

Who doesn't want Stiles having emotionally confusing sex with Derek, getting knocked up unbeknownst to either of them, and then kidnapped for the future baby? I mean, really. It's classic.

A Mating Moon by unpossible  E, 37k, Complete.  (Series 55k so far.) [this is not mpreg, just to be clear]  “Hey, Scott, so, I uh, there’s this amazingly hot guy and I’m uh, gonna spend the weekend with him but, you know, just to be careful, I’m sending you his picture, so if by some terrible chance my bloated corpse shows up sometime Monday, just, y’know pass this along to the authorities.” He pauses. “Uh. Kidding?” and then hangs up with a rush of air.  //  “That is the worst voicemail in the history of voicemails,” Derek says.

fucking fantastic

 (Once in a) Blue Moon by clarkoholic, skywardsmiles  E, 60k, Complete.  (Series 63k so far.)  Stiles and Derek are getting along, but they’re not a family, and they’re sure as hell not mates. Christ, they’re basically just two stupid guys who happened to get pregnant because of a full moon and sheer dumb luck.

Oh, the angst, the pining, the guilt, the blame, the anger. Total pain-fest while we watch Stiles nearly die from the burden of the pregnancy. Lovely sweet ending, of course.

Tried and Tested Series by dancinbutterfly  E, 53k, 12 works, Complete.  In which Derek has a sex emergency with unplanned results, Stiles could be the baby daddy on one of those horrible MTV pregnancy shows, Sheriff Stilinski takes in strays and life in Beacon Hills never has a dull moment, not even when things are calm.

Really wonderful series. Stopped at Part 11, so am waiting for updates. A good investment of time, even incomplete. ;D  //  [Huh, evidently I missed an update somewhere along the line!]

In the Solstice of our Hearts by ravingrevolution  E, 73k, Complete.  "You're not putting that up your butt," Scott told him flatly and Stiles couldn't stop the pissed off whine he made, but his friend continued. "Stiles, you can't put that up your butt, you know that. Your butt won't be ready for anything to go in it until-"  //  "Okay, okay!" he said, flailing his hands to stop his friend's lecture. "Message received, no butt stuff until I'm pounced on by some freaking animal in the forest and ravished to within an inch of my life. Got it. Thanks, Scotty, I mean heaven forbid I actually try to take control of my life and give myself a fighting chance or anything."  //  "Not all alphas are animals," Scott said quietly.  //  Maybe he was right, but Stiles wasn't holding his breath.

Omega Stiles, Berserk Stiles, omega beast, everyone's a virgin, Hurt/Comfort, care taking

The one where there's a Mate Run in the woods, and Derek with his pack manage to frighten Stiles up a tree from whence he falls and is impaled on a branch (ouch!) and then they spend a week in a cave while Stiles heals. Meanwhile, Kate and her cronies are sneaking into the month-long Mate Run with the intent to a)finally kill Derek and b) sneakily bond with some omegas. So Stiles goes berserk, which is the omega form of a hulking violence monster, to protect Derek. (Story could have stopped there, but carries on for another 1/3.)

#mpreg #mpreg fic rec #mpreg stiles #mpreg sterek #mpreg fic recs #mojo's fic recs #christyimnot #christyimnotred