#then i changed his muzzle size and was like 'oh it was just that the whole time. ok'

[tracingpapier]

QUICK REDRAW!! AAA(blown up by exams)

#couldn't get sonic's head right. was convinced it was the quills so i redrew them over and over again #then i changed his muzzle size and was like 'oh it was just that the whole time. ok' #drawing sonic characters is such a crapshoot #papier's art #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanart #archie sonic #sally acorn #princess sally acorn #sonally #sonsal #!!! if youve read the tags this far youre EPIC!!!

[jmagnabo92]

Padfoot at the Pound

Could fit into the James Lives AU.  Harry and Sirius Saturday plus some Prongsfoot Sunday. :) 

Sirius and Harry play fetch in the park, and animal control ends up picking up Padfoot, who spends two nights in the Pound.  

***

Sirius’ favorite day of the week is Saturday – not because sometimes he has dates with his lovely husband James, but because whenever Harry doesn’t have plans with friends, his kid likes playing fetch with Padfoot.  

         The ten-year-old had been far more interested in spending weekends with his friends than with his parents, but Sirius could admit that he missed the days when he and James were Harry’s whole world. Thus, when Harry announced that the sleepover at Connor’s was cancelled due to chicken pox, he immediately offered for two of them going to hiking through the woods to their favorite park where they typically play fetch just the two of them.  

         Arriving at the park, Harry says, “Alright, Padfoot, ready to play?”

         Sirius nods, immediately chasing after the ball as he throws it and teasing him with it when he comes back by running around a gleefully happy Harry, who’s coincidentally yelling, “Bad dog – just give me the ball.”

         Eventually he does, and Harry throws it again.  

         Again, and again the process repeats for hours until Harry gets tired and it’s almost time for dinner.  As Sirius brings the ball back one last time, Harry says, “Wanna race home?”

         Sirius nods, and they both take off.  

         Unfortunately, he lets Harry take the lead because he wants to watch and make sure that Harry will get home safely and as Harry makes it onto the path that leads through the woods, Sirius is stopped by a couple of men in uniforms.  He’s confused and can’t change back to explain, so he backs up, growling at them, only to suddenly find that there was someone behind him who has a makeshift collar and leash.  

         He’s pulled back and suddenly feels a needle in his hindquarters and everything going black.  

***

         “Dad!  Dad!” Harry yells as he runs through the door.  “I lost Pads!”

         “What do you mean you lost Pads?” James asks as he looks up from his sudoku puzzle.  He’d been spending the afternoon enjoying the quiet while his husband and son played at the park.  

         “I mean – he was following me as Padfoot and then all of a sudden, he wasn’t – I realized, and I ran back, and I saw some animal control men putting him in the back of a van.  I tried to tell them that he was my dog, but they wouldn’t believe me – said someone called about a rogue menace and that they were taking him to the pound.”

         He’s not surprised to find that someone would’ve called animal control on Padfoot, particularly since there’s this one redheaded woman that purely loathes Padfoot since she always finds him a bit aggressive because she’s always flirting with James in front of him and he’s naturally jealous.  

         “Alright, best go break him out then.”

***

         Sirius is furious when he wakes up again.  He’s stuck as Padfoot inside a medium-sized cage with a muzzle and nothing else.  Immediately, he wants to get it off.  He’s a human pretending to be a dog – he should not be treated like an actual dog.  

         “Oh, look who’s awake,” a brown-haired worker comments, laughing slightly as his attempts to get the muzzle off.

         “Don’t antagonize the dogs, Jack,” another man says, who looks vaguely familiar.  “It’s hard for them to be locked up and you’re not helping by being aggressive towards them.”

         “He was aggressive, first.”

         “He’s a dog – he was reacting to being trapped.”

         “Yeah, yeah.  I don’t know why you care so much.  There’re just animals,” Jack states before heading for the door, “I’m going on break.  Be careful with that one.”

         As soon as Jack leaves, the second man approaches him, and says, “Don’t bite me now, Padfoot.”

         Sirius nods, still confused, slightly.  This isn’t James, so who could it be?

         The man takes the muzzle off, “There you go – I’d let you out, but I can’t – this is the longest job I have had in a while, and I can’t lose it.  The people here are very understanding about the full moon nights I need off because the rest of the time I take the unwanted shifts.  Just me and the dogs.”

         Sirius tilts his head and narrows his eyes.  Full moon?  Padfoot?  Not having long-term jobs?  Remus?

         “Ah, you didn’t recognize me at first.  It has been a decade – more than really, but it’s me – Moony,” Remus says.  “Not exactly how I thought we’d meet again.”

         If he could talk, he’d say the same, instead he nods.  

         Remus smiles as he opens the food door to give him food and water.  “Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to get you out,” he says as Sirius snorts at the offering, “until then, you’ll have to slum it with the rest of the dogs here.  Might learn a thing or two.”

         Sirius snorts, and still refusing to acknowledge the food, no matter how hungry he is, and moves to the furthest reaches of the cage, which isn’t very far to be away from it.  

***

         “Hi, I think you have my dog,” James says as he enters the nearby Pound with Harry in tow.  It’s late, and the receptionist is already gone, but there’s a nearby man who looks like he’s one of the workers, leaning against the doorway of a hall that looks like it has the dogs and other animals in cages.  

         “What makes you think that?” a brown-haired man with a nametag that reads Jack asks.

         “Oh, well, my son was playing with him, and they were going to race back to the house, but he turned around only to spot animal control carting him off,” James states.  “I can’t imagine why animal control would’ve been called, he’s a lovable dog really – just slightly big… which can be scary, but he really is…”

         “Lovable?  He’s a menace.  We’ve had numerous complaints about him.  So, yeah, when I got the call – I immediately went to go pick him up.”

         “What?  He wasn’t even doing anything wrong – he was playing fetch,” James states, angrily.  “You were plotting against him?  What do you have against my dog?”

         Before Jack could answer, another man comes out, “Hi, I’m Zach, may I help you?”

         “You have my dog,” James states.  “My son was playing with him, and they weren’t doing anything wrong.  This man claims my dog is a menace and that there’s mean numerous complaints, and that’s why he jumped at the chance to go pick him up when he was nothing wrong.”  He’s angry and struggling to hold it in.

         “Okay, take a deep breath, and tell me – does your dog have a collar?”

         “Uh, no – he’s really good, he’d never run off so…”

         “Okay, so tell me what he looks like.”

         “He’s big and black, very furry, sheds everywhere, like a sheepdog or wolfhound, we don’t quite know what breed he is – just sort of guessed,” James states.  “He’s here, right?”

         “He is here,” Zach assures him.  “And he’s going to stay here because if he doesn’t have a collar that means you haven’t registered him and we can’t let him go without registering him – filling out the paperwork, discussing the complaints that have been assigned to him, coming up with the plans to deal with the complaints and paying the fine.”

         James frowns, all of that sounded like it would take time – a lot of time and he wanted to bring his husband home.  “I – can’t I just pay the fine and promise to keep him on a leash from now on?”

         “Not with the number of complaints we’ve had,” Zach states.  “Not to mention the lack of paperwork.”

         “Okay, fine.  Giving me the paperwork, I’ll do it now.”  Maybe he’s wrong and it won’t take too long.

         “I can’t get you the paperwork, but I’m only the supervisor – you have to meet with the manager about the complaints and everything.”

         “Great, is he coming in soon?” James asks.

         “Uh, no, he’ll be in on Monday afternoon.”

         “Monday?” James asks, aghast.  “I can’t leave him in there for almost two days.”

         “He’s just a dog,” Jack scoffs.  “He can handle two days in a cage.  Might teach him something.”

         James glares at him, but Zach says, “Get out of here – it’s time to walk each one of them.”

         “Fine.”

         Once he’s gone, Zach turns to James, “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t come in on Sundays and he is the only one that can okay a release. Usually, it takes some time for the owners to make their way down here – especially on the weekend.  He’s here Monday through Friday, so…”

         “Paddy’s not coming home,” Harry questions from beside him.  Their son is looking so upset and guilty when this isn’t his fault.

         Zach looks down at him, “If it makes you feel better, you can at least say hi to him, but no.”

         Harry looks up hopefully.  “Please, Daddy?”

         “Yes, of course.”

***

         The sounds of Harry and James asking about the conditions of the pound and what normally happens to the dogs that have to stay overnight reach Sirius’ ears and he rushes to the front of the cage.  

         “Paddy!” Harry yells, rushing to him.  “I’m so sorry.”

         He lets Harry pet him through the bars of the cage, wondering why they weren’t opening the door.  “It’s not your fault, Harry.  Things happen – Padfoot understands that –”

         “But he has to stay in here for two days!”

         Two days? Sirius thinks, turning to James and trying to convey his confusion.

         “It’s just a couple of days – something about registering, complaints and rules on release.  You’ll be fine,” James assures him.  “We’ll be back Monday afternoon.”

         Monday afternoon?

         “You talk to him like he’s human,” Zach comments.

         “We’ve always treated our pets with the idea of them being a member of the family that could understand us,” James states to cover his strange behavior.  “I just think of him as so much more than as a dog.  He’s family.”

         “Alright, well, I’m sorry you have to wait, but you’ll have him back soon – I promise.”

         “Thank you,” he looks back at Sirius.  “We have to go now, but we’ll be back on Monday – just behave.”

         Sirius glares at him, while Harry whines, “I don’t want to leave him behind!”

         “It’s just for a couple of days, as soon as we can get him back, we will, I promise.”

         “But he can’t – can’t stay here…” Harry says, starting to cry.

         “Oh, Harry,” James starts, looking upset and uncertain.  Usually, Sirius would be the one to comfort him, but he can’t when he’s in a cage.  “I – he’ll be fine…”

         “I’ll take good care of him, Harry,” Remus says, reentering the room, with a different dog that was in the pound.  He puts the dog in its cage and turns to Harry, James and Sirius.  “I promise.”

         “Remus?” James asks, eyes wide in surprise.  “I – what are you doing here?”

         “I work here – been working here about three months.  I recognized Padfoot, but you got here before I could call or find your number,” Remus swallows, nervously.  “I know it’s – it’s been a while…”

         “Yeah, it has,” James states, not giving any sort of reaction.  “But um, maybe we should talk another time.”

         “Would you be willing?” Remus questions.  “I haven’t seen any of you in a long time and – and I thought you…”

         James takes a deep breath.  “If you take good care of Padfoot, then yes, I think we’d owe you at least a dinner and a talk… it’s been long overdue.”

         “I promise, I will,” Remus smiles.

         “Good, then, we’ll see you soon.”  He turns to Sirius, gives him a pet, and tells Sirius, “Be good, Padfoot.  We’ll see you on Monday.  I love you.”

***

         Living in the pound had definitely been humiliating for Sirius.  Only being allowed dog food and drinking out of a bowl, only being let out to do his business outside on a leash whenever the workers let him, having to whine for more attention when he needs it, and finally, living in a cage.  

         He couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t just get up and roam around like he normally would.  He missed checking on Harry or waking James for some fun in the middle of the night. The cage was hard and cold, and he spent most of his time listening to the other dogs’ whines and barks, completely bored.  He had no entertainment at all except for the workers.

         He hated every minute of it – the only thing that helped was that whenever that arsehole Jack was giving him all sorts of bollocks about how he was a menace and shouldn’t be let out (apparently, his wife was the one calling the pound on him), Remus would intervene.

         “Leave that dog alone,” he’d say.  “Don’t you think being locked up here is enough?”

         Jack continually scoffed, but would stop until the next hour or so, and do it again.  In between Jack’s bollocks, Remus would talk to him.  Tell him that it’s not that bad, that it’ll be over soon, and at least it’s temporary.  Sometimes, he’d talk a little about his life in the last decade, how surprised he was to see them all – how he wondered if he’d ever see them, again.  How he was sorry that he thought Sirius could’ve been a traitor.  These things were meant to make Sirius feel better, but it was difficult when Sirius couldn’t offer anything back except for a nod or a shake of the head.

Thankfully it’s now Monday morning and he should hopefully be let out soon.  He couldn’t wait, and definitely would be trying to forget every moment of this weekend of hell in this pound as soon as he was out.  

         He’s being led around on the leash by Remus in the yard for his business when he sees James and Harry.

         “Paddy!” Harry yells running to the fence.  He reaches through to pet him.  “Are you okay?”

         Sirius nods, and Remus adds, “He’s been fine, he’s just a little bit embarrassed by the situation, I’m sure.”

         James nods, “Well, we’ll be getting him out soon – any chance Harry can just play with him while I deal with everything?”

         “Of course, we can them in one of the getting to know you rooms, but,” he lowers his voice, “he shouldn’t change back until you’re back home.”

         “I will make sure he doesn’t,” James assures him. “We’ll meet you in the front.”

         Remus nods and he leads Sirius into one of the rooms where Harry’s led into the room on his own minutes later.  He throws his arms around Sirius and mutters all of the reasons that he’s sorry about the situation.  Sirius shakes his head, subtly trying to tell Harry that it isn’t his fault.  Sirius should’ve been following closer or not to suggest that James shouldn’t also come so that he could spend some time alone with their kid.  

         It’s his fault and he should be more aware of how he comes off to other people – particularly that redhead that’s Jack’s wife, who hates him because he’s aggressive with her due to her interest in his husband. Harry’s not at fault for this.

         “Harry, I’m sure that Sirius –” he gives Remus a look, “– that your Paddy doesn’t blame you at all.  Why don’t you tell him about what he missed in the weekend?”

         Sirius nods, and Harry still doesn’t appear to believe it, but instead, pets him and tells him all about their weekend.  “Dad and I decided to distract ourselves from you being in here by going to Harrods to buy you some presents.  Daddy said your anniversary is coming up and he wants to make sure that you have the best presents ever.  So, we picked up some things that you’re going to love.”

         He details the shops that they visited, their plans for special dinner tonight and how James called Harry off school because he figures that Harry wouldn’t be paying attention in school with one of his fathers in doggie jail.  He talks about their plans for next weekend and how he really wants Sirius to come to his play on Friday night (as if he’d ever miss it) and how Connor’s sleepover was moved to Saturday, but he sort of wants to spend some more time with James and Sirius after the craziness of the weekend.  

         He’s just about to tell him about what he wants to do this weekend, when James is appears in the doorway.  “We’re free to go,” he grins as he takes a new light blue collar with the name Padfoot on a tag and a leash and attaches it to Sirius.  “We’ve just got to remember to keep Padfoot on a leash from now on.”  Sirius growls a little at that, but James says, “I’d like to not have my husband at home rather than in the pound, so if Padfoot needs a leash and collar, that’s exactly what we’re going to do – especially since it cost 500 pounds with how many complaints there were.”

         Sirius nods, feeling bad about the cost of this situation, and James turns to Remus.  “Thank you for looking out for him.  Um, maybe we could get together this week?”

         “I look forward to it,” Remus states.  “Feel free to give me a call or send an owl…”

         “We live in this world, don’t actually have an owl,” James states, uncomfortably.  “We’ll give you a call.”

         “Sounds good.  See you later.”

         “Yeah, see you.”

***

         Sirius basks in the feeling of the water of the shower.  Luckily, he wasn’t bathed in that place since he didn’t stink when they picked him up.  Still, he immediately made for the shower after assuring Harry that it was not his fault that Sirius had antagonized the woman at the park for weeks because of … well, he didn’t tell Harry why he’d been upset with her.  

         The water feels great as he washes away the grime, and he’s relieved by the freedom he feels at just being able to do something so basic on his own.  

         “Damn, you look so good,” James says, clearly watching through the clear shower door.  “Despite the fact that you’ve spent the last two days in doggie jail.”

         “You’re not going to let it go anytime soon, are you?” Sirius teases even as James joins him.  “Teasing me about being stuck as Padfoot and thrown in doggie jail.”

         “Hmm-mm, well, it is funny now that you’re out,” James grins, his hands wandering over his body.  “To be fair, I know it must’ve been embarrassing.”

         “It was embarrassing – eating dog food, being on a leash, in a cage – it was awful,” Sirius admits.  “I’m looking forward to that welcome home dinner you promised me.”

         “Hmm-mm, it’s coming along nicely – thought I’d use a bit of magic to watch it while having some fun with you in the shower.”  James gives him a deep kiss as he fingers Sirius’ hole.  “Are you in the mood for me?”

         “Aren’t I always?” Sirius grins.  “Could be just the distraction I’m looking for.”

         “Good.”

***

         James can’t help smiling at his husband with Harry as he reads him a bedtime story.  Harry’s been ‘too old’ for bedtime stories for passed couple of years, but suddenly, tonight, he wanted Sirius to read him a story.  Sirius, thrilled, had settled in for a long story while James watched from the doorway.  

         He loves watching Harry and Sirius together. He loves knowing that they have such a bond together.  Sirius is a wonderful father and partner and James loves to see it.  

         “Alright, it’s time to go to sleep,” Sirius states, closing the book he’d been reading.  

         “No!  Can’t you keep going?”

         “Sorry, pup, but you’ve got school tomorrow,” Sirius states.  “And you should’ve gone to school today.”

         “I know,” Harry grumbles.  “But I couldn’t help thinking about you in doggie jail.”

         “I was fine – I told you.  It’s not as comfortable as being home, but it was a little – doggie vacation.”

         “It didn’t look like a doggie vacation,” Harry states, calling him on his lie.  “All the dogs in there looked sad.”

         “Well, they just missed their families, so it’s not the best doggie vacation, but it’s not so bad,” Sirius states.  “Besides, it was only a couple of days – nothing to worry about.”

         “But –”

         “No, Harry, stop worrying.  I was fine, and now, I’m home.”  Sirius leans down and kisses Harry’s forehead.  “I’m home, and there’s nothing to worry about.”

         “You really don’t blame me?”

         “Of course not, it’s all my fault – just like I told you,” Sirius assures him.  “I love you, kid, believe me – you’re fine.”

         “I love you, too, Paddy.  I’m happy you’re home.”

         “Happy to be home, now get some sleep,” Sirius says. Another kiss on the forehead, before getting up and saying, “Good night, pup.”

         “Good night, Paddy.  ‘Night, Dad.”

         “Night, Harry,” James says as they turn out the lights, and close the door.  As soon as they’re safely in their bedroom, James smiles because he always gets so turned on when he sees Sirius being such a good dad, “You’re so great with him.”

         Sirius grins at him, “Well, he’s my son, too.”

         James kisses him, subtly starting to undress him. “I love you so much.”

         “I love you, too,” Sirius breathes between kisses. “And I missed you while I was in doggie jail.”

         “I missed you, too – no more getting yourself thrown in doggie jail.”

         “I promise, love.”

         “Good.”

#Sirius Black #Harry James Potter #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Harry Potter #Padfoot #Pound #Sirius and Harry bonding #sirius and harry saturday #Sirius and Harry #Sirius & Harry #James and Harry #Sirius Black/James Potter #Prongsfoot #Prongsfoot Sunday

[sophswritingthings]

Longstar AU — Chapter Six

   “These two kits are ready to be apprenticed,” Bluestar began to the ceremony, gazing down at Bramblekit and Tawnykit. “Until they have earned their warrior names, they will be known as Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw. Bramblepaw will be mentored by Fireheart, and Tawnypaw by Brackenfur. Teach them all you know.”

   The new mentors touched noses with their apprentices. Bluestar, once again, had nothing to say. No well wishes from StarClan, nothing. She hopped down, and slid into her den.

   “Longtail!” Bramblepaw rushed up to him, his ears flattening. “Oh, sorry,” He gave a soft smile. “How’s Swiftpaw? I’m kinda sad he couldn’t see our apprentice ceremony..”

   “He’s.. doing fine,” Longtail murmured. “He’s not awake yet, but Cinderpath said he’s gonna be okay.”

   “Good,” Bramblepaw mewed. “C'mon, Tawnypaw, Fireheart and Brackenfur wanna show us the territory!” The two apprentices rushed off together.

   “I remember when you were a wild apprentice like that,” Darkears flicked his tail across his back.

   “.. I don’t think I was so bad,” Longtail mewed, resting his gaze on Darkears.

   “I was your mentor,” His whiskers twitched slightly. “I would know.”

   “.. I guess you would.” Longtail huffed, “What do you want, Darkears?”

   “I’m going to meet with Blackfoot, of ShadowClan,” His meow dropped to a whisper. “I’m giving you a chance to come with me. To realize what mouse-dung this clan is, and come to ShadowClan.”

   “.. Are you going to ShadowClan?”

   “Yes,” His amber eyes narrowed. “There’s no point staying here. This clan is run by a mouse-brained leader, who barley ever talks to her clan, and made a kittypet her deputy. We are weak. In ShadowClan, things would be different. We'd be respected warriors again.”

   “No matter how much they want to say that I’m working with Tigerstar, or you, for that matter,” Longtail narrowed his eyes, taking a short pace toward Darkears. “I’m going to remain loyal to this clan. I was born here, I grew up with the cats here, I’m loyal to them for the rest of my life. No matter what they say. I don’t care if I’m not a respected warrior, I will live and die by my clan. No matter what happens.”

   “Than you're just as mouse-brained as the rest of them,”Darkears hissed. “Goodbye, Longtail. And if you ever change your mind, we’re waiting for you.”

   With no other words said, Darkears padded away, his tail flicking behind him.

   Longtail swiftly padded out of the camp, stopping in a bushel of trees. He stayed quiet, listening for any shuffling of prey. He picked up the gentle thumping of a rabbits feet, dropping into a hunting crouch.

   He readied himself to pounce, but before he could spring forward, something grabbed the small creature. Longtail backed up, gazing at a large, black and orange dog. The dog was ten times his size, and had blood spattered around its muzzle.

   I’m near Snakerocks, He thought for a moment, slowly and quietly backing out of the situation. The same place Brightpaw and Swiftpaw were when they got attacked..

   Dogs!

   That’s what was stealing the prey! And more importantly, that’s what attacked Brightpaw and Swiftpaw.

   I have to tell Fireheart, Longtail dipped into the taller grasses, waiting for the dog to disappear. Thankfully, it was too focused on the prey to smell him and seconds later disappeared. He turned tail, speeding back to their camp.

   “Woah, woah! Where are you coming from?” Runningwind gave him a cheeky smile, “What’s the rush, Longtail?”

   “I need to speak to Fireheart,” Longtail spat out.

   “He’s in the medicine den with Bluestar and Cinderpath, as well as the apprentices,” Runningwind replied, Longtail's eyes narrowing. “I’m not sure why, exactly. I was just about to take out a border patrol.”

   “Stay away from Snakerocks,” Longtail warned.

   “.. Why? What’s at Snakerocks?” Runningwind pressed.

   “.. That’s where Swiftpaw and Brightpaw were attacked, it just isn’t safe!” Longtail hissed hurriedly.

   “.. Gotcha,” Runningwind mewed, rounding around the Tom with the rest of his patrol behind him.

   Longtail padded into the camp, rounding around the fresh-kill pile and padding into the medicine den.

   “.. Let StarClan see these two as Lostface and Deadleg, to show what StarClan allowed to happen to them.”

   “What?” Cloudtail's voice hissed, “You can’t name them that! It’s cruel!”

   “The names are truthful,” Bluestar hissed, “They show what StarClan let happen to then. How StarClan abandoned them too and let them almost die because of it.”

   Bluestar turned out of the den, brushing past Longtail in silence. Longtail padded a few paces into the den.

   “.. What happened?” Longtail questioned, glancing at Cloudtail.

   The white tom rolled his eyes, “Bluestar gave them a warrior ceremony,” Longtail's eyes widened, “.. And named them Lostface and Deadleg.”

   “What?“ He growled, “How.. how could she do that? They worked so hard to receive their names, and are still fighting hard to pull through.”

   “I know,” Cloudtail curled around Lostface, “And despite their scars, they shouldn’t have such cruel names.”

   “I agree,” Fireheart sighed. “I thought you'd gone out, Longtail. Why back so soon?”

   “I needed to speak with you, it’s urgent,” He meowed.

   “Is it okay that Cloudtail's here?” Fireheart asked, “We can go outside.”

   “It’s fine,” He settled down, his tail curled round his paws. “I was hunting close to Snakerocks. As I was hunting, something pounced on the prey before I could. A dog. And a large one, at that.”

   “.. You're sure?” Fireheart gazed up at him.

   “Of course I’m sure! I saw it with my own eyes,” He mewed, flattening his ears. “You.. don’t think I’m lying, do you?”

   “.. I just want to make sure, Longtail. That’s all.” Fireheart took in a deep breath, “Thank you for telling me.”

   “.. Yeah.” Longtail murmured, slowly turning out of the medicine den. As he padded out, he could hear Fireheart speaking to Cinderpath and Cloudtail. He didn’t believe him.

   Longtail trotted into the warriors den, settling in his nest. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to speak with anyone, everything was just mouse-dung.

   But, before he could fall asleep, paws pattered at the entrance to the den.

   “Longtail,” Fireheart mewed, “I’m sorry.”

   “Hm?” He hummed, turning to face the deputy.

   “I’ve been suspicious of you,” He sighed, “Thinking you were working with Tigerstar, with Darkears,” He glanced off as he said the name. “But I was wrong. You are a loyal ThunderClan warrior. You’ve just been looking out for our best interests, and I’ve been mouse-brained to not believe you. So, I’m sorry.”

   “.. Thank you, Fireheart,” He gazed up at the tom. “I appreciate it.”

   “So.. let’s.. start over,” Fireheart gave a smile. “Let’s trust each other, and work together as clanmates.”

   “I'd like that,” Longtail gave a small smile back.

#warrior cats #erin hunter warriors #warrior cats au #longstar au #longtail #bluestar #warriors tpb #darkstripe #runningwind #fireheart #shadowclan #thunderclan #warrior cats fanfic

[theimpossiblescheme]

Threat Level

(Cesare the henchcat’s getting a brief turn in the spotlight for @bombawife‘s OC week!  Trigger warning for violence and blood ahead.)

Right off the top of his head, Alonzo could think of at least twenty different ways he could have died since he was a kitten.  Wandering the streets too malnourished and frail to stand without stumbling.  Having his ribs crushed by cars.  Squashed beneath construction ladders.  Territorial alley cats.  Macavity’s claws.  Macavity’s teeth.  Macavity sending henchcats twice his size to “keep an eye” on him.  All the most recent occasions were Macavity’s doing.

And getting his throat ripped out by his brown-nosing little lackey… this was not allowed to be how he died.

Snarling at the top of his voice, he bent his shoulder toward the corner wall and slammed against it, making Cesare on his back take the brunt of the impact.  Thud–thud–thud!  Cesare let out a yowl with each slam and attempted to hold on tighter by clawing at his neck from the front.  But with one final thud! that sent Alonzo’s teeth clattering, Cesare finally let go.  Before he could slide too far down the wall, Alonzo turned over his aching shoulder and sliced his claws across Cesare’s muzzle.  Blood dripped across a harlequin face and golden paw as the two faced each other, gasping for breath… Alonzo sorely tempted to put the bastard out of his misery.  Payback for all the years wasted in that hellhole.  For Demeter, for Jemima, for Bomba, for all of them.

Then Cesare smiled.  The same slimy, self-congratulatory smile he knew Alonzo hated so much, made even worse through bloodied teeth.  “It won’t make a difference,” he muttered, head dropped to his chest, voice muffled.  “You’re more than welcome to kill me… it won’t change a damn thing.”

He was baiting him.  Alonzo knew he was baiting him.  And damn him, he still couldn’t leave it alone… grabbing fistfulls of Cesare’s fur, he yanked him upright until they were nose to nose.  “What is Macavity planning?  Tell me, and I might make it quick.”

Cesare actually laughed.  “I’m not at liberty to tell some–”

Another slash across the face shut him up.  So did a set of claws under his chin.  “Tell me.”

“Why?  You won’t be able to stop him.”  There was a derangement in Cesare’s eyes that Alonzo had never seen before–that he would never admit frightened him.  “By the end of the night, there won’t be just one of you sent up to die.  He’ll be making that choice for you.  One by one by one.”

Alonzo’s head spun–Macavity was coming to the Jellicle Ball?  He couldn’t tell if that was brave or stupid… or if it was simply a matter of catching as many cats in his crossfire as possible.  Either way–”There’s nine of us and one of him.  He won’t get very far.”

“Oh, come on now, I know you’re not that stupid.  You know very well how many of him there are.”  Cesare laughed again, and Alonzo’s blood ran cold to remember.  The hulking, faceless cats Macavity used as his decoys.  No one knew their names, no one could even remember seeing them out of shadow–they could have been anyone.  They could have been the cat standing next to you, or some spirit or demon Macavity had conjured for his own purposes.  But no matter how much the question burned on your tongue, you knew better than to ask.  You didn’t want to know.  If the whispers were to be believed, there was too great a chance Macavity might take your face and replace it with his own.

“Though really,” Cesare went on, “he only needs three.  One for you lot”--he ticked off one claw–”one for the old fool”--another claw–”and one”--the third he slid along Alonzo’s chin–”for his sweet little Goldie–”

What happened next, Alonzo couldn’t explain.  He must have blacked out for a moment.  One second, there was Cesare; the next, there was a blinding pain in his forehead and Cesare on the ground.  More blood seeping from his own forehead, body sprawled in a heap.  Still breathing shallowly.  Damn shame, he thought distantly, like someone else’s voice echoing in his head… and he had to shake out his ears to make sure it wasn’t.

“Alonzo!”  Another voice–Bomba’s as she came bounding down the wall to meet him.  “I heard a voice–was it–?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, it was.”  But he didn’t want to waste any more words on Cesare.  “We have to get back to the Junkyard.  Macavity’s planning on crashing the Ball.”

Bomba quirked an eyebrow and nodded down at the prone henchcat.  “Did he tell you that?”

“This wasn’t a taunt, Bomba–this was serious.  He’s coming after Old Deuteronomy.”  He swallowed past the sudden bile in his throat.  “And Demeter, too.”

There was a terrible moment where Bomba’s face became a mask of terror, but it soon steeled into a look of grim resolve, tail lashing behind her as she prepared to run again.  “Well, we’ve still got time if we hurry.”

Alonzo didn’t need to be told twice.  And he made sure to kick some dirt over Cesare for good measure on his way.

#cats the musical #cats oc week #OCs #alonzo #bombalurina #fanfic

[the-character-lounge]

Spinel goes all out as thanks for his earlier date with Randy

Randy chuckled, and slipped on a simple hoodie, and headed out the door. He took a deep breath of air, and decided he could walk. He’d be a few minutes late, but it was nice out tonight. Since it wasn’t too late in the day, he decided to stop by the cake shop and grab a couple pieces of cake for he and Spinel. After a brisk trot, he arrived a couple minutes late, ringing the intercom and waiting for the elevator to come down. “Hey s- sorry I’m late! P- Picked up some cake a- and the clerk didn’t have the pr- proper change."

There wasn't a voice returned, the elevator light came on and he could hear the elevator coming down. The doors opened and Spinel's hoof was quick to follow, yanking Randy in with him as he backed in to the wall and pinned himself by crushing Randy's body up against him. There lips came close, but not quite touching, and he smiled coyly as he waited for the doors to close. He was wearing an interesting array of colors this time, a dark maroon dress shirt with the buttons undone, and a tie that seemed to be a dark burst of purple at the top but a gradient of pinks and sunset oranges traveling down in to white at the tip. He still had the flower in his mane but it looked like he'd made a tiny and decorative glass tube of enchanted water for the stem. It wasn't just a tube though, it curled in to a unique shape and had a barrette clip attached to it so it stayed snug in his mane.

"I wanted to try something with a little more flare..." he tapped the tip of his tongue on Randy's muzzle then pulled his head back a little. One hoof pet Randy's mane as he eyed the cake boxes. He looked back at Randy with a pout and a suggestive hip wiggle as the elevator moved up. "Oh with those cakes that complicates things..." He wasn't actually disappointed, he was flirtatiously teasing.

 “Well I- I wasn’t ex- expecting to get pounced a- as soon as I st- stepped on,” he playfully defend himself, his cheeks burning brightly as he felt the tongue against his muzzle. “.. Th- This is revenge f- for the last t- time.. i- isn’t it?” he snickered, still clinging to the boxes.

"Could be~ I can see why you like it, what a rush...!" He laughed and gently let Randy go as the elevator came to the floor and opened. He glanced at the doors, "Well, I want the drinks to stay cold anyway."

A disappointed look washed over his face as he stepped off after Spinel, pouting as he continued clinging on to the cake boxes. That was actually really exciting. Which was why he was kind of sad that it hadn’t escalated. “Dr- Drinks?” he asked as he caught up with Spinel and walked beside him.

Spinel nodded with a grin, hips not exactly swaying but having a firm 'bounce' to them as he strut with his tail held high. When he lead Randy in to the suite, the lights were all dimmed and there were magical candles of different colors floating about. They were enchanted to make water-like shadows ripple along the walls and ceiling, and the colors were all pastel warms with a little purple and blue to give it the overall water tint. The bar was the brightest area, lit up with light blue and white lights and there were two rather impressively sized coconuts with the cocktail works sitting on the counter. That included kabobs with an array of fruits.

Randy’s jaw went slack as he stepped inside. The suite looked completely different. It looked and felt like a tropical cave. He slowly looked around, walking in small circles as he admired every single ripple of color along the ceiling, and every shimmering, wavy shadow. “Wooooow…” he whispered in a hushed voice, feeling he had to be reverent for some reason. He spied the bar and saw the coconuts and kabobs and his face lit up. “.. H- How did you.. i- in f- fifteen minutes n- no less…”

 "Oh I've been setting up for a few hours actually, you just called as I was finishing up. Had to do a rush job with the pool and the cocktails." He picked up the coconut and grinned, it was a big white one that was carved up in a convenient gem-like shape that let it rest on the table and have a smooth surface. "The coconuts were imported earlier though." He looked around and grinned at Randy. "Couldn't let you one-up me with yesterday."

Randy rolled his eyes and softly nudge his shoulder. “I- It’s not a contest you d- dork.” He leaned on the bar and took his own coconut. “R- Rushed or n- not, this place looks i- incredible! I- It’s like one of the caves o- on the cove w- we stayed at once!” Randy was referring to his friends of course, but he hadn’t realized how that made it sound like he and Spinel had gone to the Baahaamas. He smiled and looked over at him, lifting the coconut in a cheers before sipping it and softly moaning at the taste of rum and coconut milk.

"I based it on a bar I visited in Las Pegas." he smirked and lifted in cheers as well, sipping proudly. "So is this closer to the real deal?" he quirked a brow curiously, enjoying the sweet but strong taste and nibbling on a piece of fruit to let the slight burn go down easy.

Randy nodded. “D- Definitely.. b- but maybe y- you and I should g- go sometime and find o- out for ourselves?” he grinned and sipped his coconut. “I- I have a lot o- of savings p- put away. I- I’d normally be against spending an- any of it, b- but when w- we catch Candy, I- I want to celebrate th- the right way.” He scooted a bit closer to Spinel. “I think y- you’d really like it. Pl- Plenty of sun, p- peace and quiet.. an- and lots of places to g- go dancing~” He smiled and looked around again. “..Th- This is really l- lovely. I- I’m really impressed with how you put th- this all together so w- well!”

 His ear flicked, "You know I could afford it easily, don't you? Now if I could find somepony to stand in for me..." He bit his lip, then shrugged and took another sip. They'd been hanging around so often lately, he didn't see how going off on vacation alone was much different. He only smiled proudly at the compliment, then took a more casual stance as he started to walk out to the pool patio. When the patio opened, the whole pool lit up gold and pink.

#spinel #rp snippet

[ravilson23]

Okay, so i think a lot of people noticed somehow worse quality of animation in the latest episode of Helluva Boss (s2ep2). So i decided to redraw some frames that bothered me. I think i did some better, some worse, some are more in my style than i would like but in general, i think i managed to correct some stuff.

At this point i got kinda tired of editing those frames like this ( probably cause i was doing this in the app that wasnt really created for this) and i decided to do simple redraws.

This one was kinda weird, cause i had bigger problem with anatomy than her face, I dont think i did great job but i hope its a little more balanced now. I felt like the original shot had Loonas body streched in proportion. On the other hand in my sketch the head may be a bit too small. Oh well

At this point i stopped doing mostly clean lines.

This is a suprising shot, cause it was a very important moment in the episode, so its a little disappointing to see drawings with not the best quality.

And here we go with Blitz. Honestly the oryginal shot is fine, its more cartoonish in expression and i think its okay. I did this one mostly as an experiment. In the end i think both versions are okay, just different. The oryginal definitely feels more emotive.

And this one is... idk, at first i tried just editing this but it didnt feel right so i said fuck it and just redrew this, much quicker even if less pretty.

And that would be all shots i decided to redraw. Not all that could be corrected, cause u know, its one frame, and all sequences are based on drawing with screwed proportions.

But to be fair i want to say some stuff. Loona is generally hard to draw and this episode isnt the only one that have some weird shots with her. Vivzies style is very expressive, and in my opinion not particulary regular. By this i mean that anatomy isnt very important, many characters are very slim, imps for example have pretty big heads (especially Blitz) [wait is this also a pun?!], while Asmodeus for a change has pretty small one (though it seems bigger with his other faces). The size of characters also can be inconsistent, its especially noticable when there is a big difference in size between them (eghem* Stolitz, EGHEM* Fizz and Asmodeus). Blitz is also hard to draw because he has a really particular shape of head and horns. Its hard to place his eyes, especially since imps are based on reptiles and their features are also reptile like (no nose to help). With Loona on the other hand its hard to draw her in 3/4 perspective cause of the shape of her eyes and especially her muzzle. I think animators try not to cover them with her nose or mouth and i believe it doesnt works well. Most of the characters have also a lot of details which makes it harder to animate them. Blitzos headmark, his scars, even his clothes! It takes a lot of time to draw it all. And its like that with most characters. So i am not doing this post to shame those animations, but rather to show that its not easy to do and despite it being not so great it still took a lot of work. For me personally those shots werent even the biggest issue, i was more annoyed with camera jumping around.

Last thing. I liked one shot with Loona A LOT and i am really sad i cannot post anymore pictures in this post, so here is its time in the ep: 17:18 - 17:24. Whoever animated this did a truly great job, and i send a lot appreciation to this person.

#helluva boss #english is not my native language #helluva spoilers #helluva boss s2ep2 #helluva boss animation #helluva boss fanart #? #does it count? #redraw

[deepdarkdelights]

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview:  A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window. 

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow. 

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated. 

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods. 

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.  

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit. 

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious. 

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.   

If only you had known what was to come. 

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so. 

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move. 

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker. 

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first. 

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment. 

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen. 

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was. 

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over. 

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat. 

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room. 

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked. 

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself. 

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one. 

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands. 

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well. 

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes. 

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat. 

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner. 

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap. 

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste. 

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat. 

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door. 

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones. 

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well. 

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey. 

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied. 

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air. 

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you. 

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them. 

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated. 

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself  as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time. 

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you. 

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town. 

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold. 

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin. 

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety. 

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had. 

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed. 

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him. 

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had. 

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.  

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf. 

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while. 

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder. 

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable. 

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away. 

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased. 

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself. 

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you. 

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath. 

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls. 

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place. 

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber. 

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more. 

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?” 

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash. 

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name. 

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made. 

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done. 

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.” 

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form. 

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.” 

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried. 

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door. 

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.” 

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made. 

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting. 

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon. 

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth. 

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red. 

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees. 

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest. 

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home. 

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off. 

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly. 

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly. 

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them. 

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow. 

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you? 

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better. 

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people. 

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of. 

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience. 

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips. 

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace. 

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping. 

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat. 

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them. 

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice. 

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive. 

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight. 

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you. 

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other. 

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door. 

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother. 

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken. 

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths. 

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders. 

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women. 

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more. 

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring. 

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots. 

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon. 

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills. 

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive. 

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather. 

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods. 

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.” 

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop. 

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood. 

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one. 

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer. 

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever. 

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you. 

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice. 

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path. 

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you. 

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path. 

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said. 

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone. 

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?” 

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months. 

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds. 

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow. 

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket. 

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him. 

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you. 

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face. 

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound. 

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow. 

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar. 

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened. 

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it. 

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to. 

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door. 

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips. 

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter. 

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human. 

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you. 

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand. 

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess. 

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack. 

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!” 

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks. 

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist. 

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.” 

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth. 

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too. 

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon. 

And, without thinking, you ran. 

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees. 

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother. 

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather. 

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you. 

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location. 

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den. 

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths. 

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away. 

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood. 

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form. 

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him. 

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition. 

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection. 

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.” 

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Year of the Ox (Minotaur x Reader)

Pairings: Gender Neutral!Reader/M!Minotaur

Genre: Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, First times

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only) ahead

Word Count: 3243 words

Summary: On the night of the annual new year's festival, you decide to treat your Minotaur neighbor to some new experiences.

“____, have you finished rolling those croissants yet?” The exasperated sound of your mother’s voice bounces off the small kitchen walls, shocking you out of your daydreaming and jerking your body into motion. On the counter besides you lies 40-something flat triangles of pastry, only one half-rolled into a semi-decent croissant shape.

“Uh, almost!” You yell towards the living room, scrambling to the cutting board.

“Those croissants have to be ready by tonight, darling! We can’t be the only family not bringing something to the festival!”

“I’m on it right now, ma!” You shout, pushing up your sleeves as you begin to roll.

It’s not as if the task is difficult, only mindless, the kind of busy-work that forces your mind and eyes to wander. Wander to the open window above the sink, right into the neighboring field of crops. Right where your next-door neighbor and friend, Gavin, is tilling the field.

Frankly, this shouldn’t be an issue. A couple of years ago, when you were saddled with this exact task on this exact day, you’d send Gavin a wave and be on your merry way. Maybe the two of you would shout a couple sentences to each other, making small talk about tonight, but that was it.

But now, your brain willingly deep fries itself with every glance, every peak, out onto his family’s property.

Although the winter has brought some chill, farming is still backbreaking work, one that leaves Gavin slicked with sweat and giving the occasional grunt as he digs in a shovel or hoe. His top button is undone, revealing a toned, chestnut fur-covered chest. And those pants, my god those pants, seemed to hug every perfect curve of his thick legs and butt, his long tail swaying back and forth as he worked. Every noise he makes sends a shiver down your spine.

To say Gavin underwent a “growth spurt” in the past year would be an understatement by a landslide. At only 23, he now stood over two heads above you, with a giant set of horns and a barrel-like chest. His thighs easily doubled the size of yours and his arms looked like they could rip a lumber log right in half.

Your hands continue to roll nothing but air as you find yourself lost in the contours of his muscular back, which push and pull under his shirt, giving a good picture of what lies behind the fabric.  He pauses, straightening his posture and letting out a long sigh as he stretches his back, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. You think there might be drool coming out of your mouth, a pool of saliva you nearly choke on when he whips around, looking right at you.

As if nothing has changed, Gavin sends you a big smile, waving enthusiastically. You stick up a flour-covered hand and try to look composed.

Gavin perks up, making a rolling motion with his hands and mouthing “Croissants?”

You nod, giving him a thumbs up.

He cheers silently, clenching his fist like you just told him he won the lottery. Your family makes these croissants every year, but every year Gavin acts like it’s the greatest surprise of the season. It’s very sweet, like everything else about him.

Gavin gives you another smile and goes back to working, leaving you to pine all by yourself. You force yourself to focus on the task at hand, but even when he finishes and heads back inside, Gavin still works inside your brain.

-----------

Despite the small size of your town, the New Year’s fireworks never fail to be bigger and better than ever. It’s the one night of the year every dad is allowed to go hog wild, setting off every new, home-made firework-abomination they’ve cooked up during the holidays. But as the fireworks fire off, the blasts resonating through the shaky barn walls and their glow flashing in between the wooden boards, all you can focus is on Gavin. Gavin whose hand is on the small of your back, whose muzzle is frantically planting kisses down your neck, and whose chest you’re gripping onto for dear life as your bodies grind against each other. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine as you press your hips even closer into his, electricity weakening your news as a tell-tale bulge presses against your crotch.

With your mind hazy, you barely remember how you got here. You weren’t quite crotchety enough for your parents and a little too boring for your younger siblings, so you and Gavin often drifted away and hung out together on the New Year’s Festival. The night had been going normal, taking swigs of a spiked apple cider and wandering around the fairgrounds, although you were dressed a little nicer than usual, when Gavin lamented about having no one to kiss at midnight. A little bit of alcohol, a flirty remark from you, and things seemed to spiral from there. In no time at all the two of you had run over to his family’s barn, minds locked in a singular haze of passion.

But the why and the how mattered very little to you at the moment, especially with Gavin’s left palm slowly sneaking it’s way down to your butt, hovering over your backside hesitantly. You lean into Gavin for another kiss and grab his wrist, slapping it down on your butt and urging him to squeeze.

Even through your jeans, Gavin’s hands are rough. His fingertips just barely touch your thigh as he squeezes your cheek once more, his palm large enough to easily grab most of your ass. Gavin continues to knead until his knees hit the back of a huge hay bale, causing him to throw one of his hands back to steady himself.

It’s only when sitting that you and Gavin are face-to-face, his large thighs stretching out his work pants as you slot yourself in between and run your hands up the denim. But Gavin wastes no time in picking you up by the back of your legs and plopping you onto his lap. You rush to find his lips again, meeting Gavin halfway as you sloppily paw at his shirt, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, desperate for the feeling of his fur and muscle under your fingers.

Mind still foggy, you work up the resolve to pull away and begin tugging at the bottom of your dress shirt, untucking it from your pants and pulling it up, right until-

“Oh, shit, ____, uhm….”

You pause, peaking your head out of your shirt collar, arms still raised. Gavin looks at you, rays of moonlight catching off his horns as he breathes heavily, trying to find the words. His eyes dart from your face, your body, to somewhere in the distance as he fidgets. You slowly pull your shirt down,  pressing a hand against his cheek. “Is everything alright? We can stop if you-”

“No! No, I don’t want to stop. Definitely not. I mean, uh, if you want to stop we can, I just-”

You thumb brushes over Gavin’s cheekbones, reaching up your forefinger to sweep away the stray hairs that had fallen over his eyes. This time of year his coat is extra thick, Gavin’s hair a curly mess of locks that fall just past his snout. You could never decide which look you prefer; When he pulls his hair up into a work-bun, or when he lets it messily hang over his shoulders. But in this moment, all you can focus on are Gavin’s beautiful brown eyes, even as he avoids your gaze.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Gavin clenches his eyes shut, wincing for an oncoming reaction.

“...Oh.” You mutter, blinking quickly as you mull over this revelation. Gavin looks at you from under his eyebrows, a strong blush traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Not anything? With anyone?” Gavin shakes his head. His hands play with a stray piece of hay, betraying his anxiety.

You’re shocked, Gavin is one of the most handsome bachelors in town, one you’ve been pining after for months now, but try not to let it show. While you yourself aren’t necessarily a connoisseur of sex, you’ve still had your fair share of encounters, even in your small hometown.

You quickly realize you’ve left Gavin alone with his thoughts for a solid 30 seconds, right after he told you something he is clearly nervous about. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you straighten your posture and stand up. Gavin’s eyes follow you, small hints of fear and anxiety within them. You lean down and give him a long kiss on the lips, before pulling away and whispering in his ear.

“I want to make you feel good. Would that be okay?”

Gavin gulps, nodding against you, fingers digging into your blouse as you press another kiss behind his ear. Then on his jaw, and slowly move down his neck, leaving a trail of affection until you hit his collarbone.

You pull away and Gavin moves to sit up, but you press a solid hand on his chest and press him back down, sliding down his thighs and onto your knees. Gavin gulps as your hand travels down his abdomen, fingers dancing on his happy trail before lightly tracing over his growing hard-on. Once you’ve reached his crotch, you take your time squeezing and admiring Gavins muscular quads, not bothering to hide how aroused he’s made you. You want him to know how hot he is, how desperately you want to ravish him, have him ravish you.

Your eyes focus on his bulge, licking your lips as you slowly tip-toe your fingers to his zipper.

“If you need to stop, let me know okay? Seriously, I want you to feel comfortable.”

Gavin shakily nods, letting out a surprised groan as you palm his cock through the denim. He throws his head back as you slowly undo the zipper with one hand, the other continuing to tease and rub his dick as his boxer briefs are revealed. You slowly lean down and press a kiss to his groin, forcing another low moan out of him. Behind him, you hear the flicks of his tail against the hail bale as you give his dick another kiss. With slow movements, you finally pull on his underwear down to the top of his thighs, revealing his cock.

You had expected Gavin to be….well-endowed. But my god, nothing could compare to seeing it in person. It’s long, thick, the tip of it hitting just underneath his belly button as it presses up and out of his boxers. His balls are also large, carrying a familiar sweaty musk from long days of farmwork. Saliva begins pooling in your mouth.

Apparently you got lost in your own thoughts, staring at his cock and pondering in what way it could fit in any part of you, as Gavin sucks in a deep breath and asks,

“Is it-Are you good?” His whispers, voice trembling with pent-up pleasure. You give a wordless nod, snapping yourself out of your own self-consciousness and lock eyes with Gavin. He may have the dick of a sex-god, but this was still his first time. You send him a reassuring smile.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. Your cock is really nice.” Gavin’s whole face flushes an even darker shade, his ears twitching and his tail flicking with embarrassment.

“R-really? U-uhm, thanks. I guess I never-hngh!” Gavin’s front lurches, his throat tripping on coherent sentences as you press a kiss to the base of his cock, hand’s running up to his inner thighs. You pull back, but only an inch.

“Was that okay?”

“Y-yes, yes, yeah that was-uhng-that was good.” Gavin stammers, throwing a hand through his long hair. It brings a small smile to your face. “C-could you do it again?”

You nod once more, pressing a longer, slower kiss to Gavin’s cock. A hot stream of air pushes out of his nose and he stutters a low ‘fuck’ as you slowly begin to lick up the underside of his dick. One of your hands moves from massaging his legs to tentatively fondle his balls. In your periphery you can see his big hands clench around the hay, another deep moan coming from his chest. Your fingertips barely touch around the circumference, a bolt of heat shooting down your abdomen as you feel the size of him in your hand. A myriad of dirty images, fantasies and positions fly through your mind, but you steady yourself and focus on the task at hand.

Gavin’s breath steadily increases as you continue to jerk him off, lightly suck at his head and play with his balls. He keens and whines when you give him a particularly hard squeeze or suck, leaning his weight back on one elbow and eyeing you in between his messy hair.

“Shit, s-shit, that feels so good. Right there, please.” Gavin begs, hands struggling to find purchase on the bale below him as you continue to tease.

You finally take the leap, lifting yourself up on your knees, and take about 2 inches of him into your mouth. Your decision is immediately rewarded with Gavin’s loud, shocked moan, catching in his throat as his legs tense up. He mutters a curse under his breath and you start bobbing up and down, slowly working your way down the many inches of his long dick. Your hand movements grow sloppy as you focus more and more on breathing through your nose and sucking in your cheeks, but Gavin doesn’t seem to mind. His adorable whimpers have raised in pitch, rowdier moans breaking in between as your tongue swirls around his shaft. You can feel the way he struggles to think of what to do with his hands, mind warped by new sensations, so you grab one of his palms and place it on the back of your neck. Gavin instinctively tangles his fingers through your hair, right before lightening his grip and avoiding pushing you to choke on his cock. You struggle down another half-inch anyway, forcing his lower-body to jolt and his hands to tighten.

For a virgin, he has rather impressive stamina, the back of your throat beginning to tire after several minutes of the intense blowjob. But Gavin’s moans and tiny pleas for “More, more, more” are music to your ears, time passing like nothing.

In your hand, you feel his balls tighten, his thighs tensing around you as his tail flickers uncontrollably.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. ____, I’m close, I’m so close.” Gavin keenes, his hips stuttering up and into your mouth as you pick up your pace. Gavin continues to stutter and whine, peppering you with compliments as his legs quiver with an impending orgasm. But at the last second, you detach with a sloppy pop, giving a light kiss to his pre-cum soaked head. Gavin’s eyes jolt open, losing his grip on your scalp as his chest heaves up and down.

“W-what-”

“You want to come down my throat, big boy?” You murmur, squeezing the base of his cock in a vice grip. Gavin yelps, hips humping into yours. “You want me to swallow a mouthful? Feel my throat around your cock as you cum?” You suck on one of his balls and Gavin’s moan is downright musical. Gavin frantically shakes his head up and down. “Uh-uh, sweetie. I want to hear you.”

You don’t know where this wave of confidence is coming from, perhaps you yourself are discovering something new tonight as well. But as Gavin looks at you, cheeks dark with embarrassment and eyes desperate for you and only you, it feels as if a spark has set off a stick of dynamite in your belly. Gavin pushes back his hair, sucking in another long breath, right before he says.

“P-please, I want to come in your mouth. ____, I need your mouth on my cock, please.”

Your smirk, immediately latching back onto his cock and quickly deepthroating him. Gavin’s hand moves on its own and presses you down even farther, tears peaking at the edge of your eyes as he presses against your gag reflex. Your hand continues it’s ministrations with his balls as you suck up and down. Gavin lets his moans out, no longer bothering to suppress them in his chest as his lower body tenses once more.

“Sh-shit! S-shit, I’m coming, I’m coming, ____ I’m comi-ing!”

Like a tidal wave, Gavin orgasms, his first shot nearly causing you to choke as it hits the back  of your throat.

Wow, I didn’t even think it was possible to cum this much.

You lock your lips around his dick as he continues to climax, filling up your mouth with his seed as he throws his body back onto the hay bale. When you finally pull off, a long stream of cum leaks down the side of your mouth, forcing you to swallow as soon as you can. With a silent and satisfactory “Aaah~”, you wipe at your chin.

Gavin lays, exhausted, on the bale. His tail weakly sways back and forth under him, his sweaty fur sticking out from his few top undone buttons. You let yourself rest back on your thighs, a little sweaty yourself, admiring your handiwork.

“That feel good?”

Gavin nods, a mindless smile on his face as he catches his breath. You chuckle at his blissed expression, giving him a solid pat on the calf.

Using his thick thighs as leverage, you push yourself up, leaning over his large form and giving him a small peck on the cheek. Gavin’s smile grows even wider and he gives you a kiss of your own, his hand lazily patting your lower back.

“Well,” You rub his chest fur, “I’m happy I could give you your first blowjob, big guy.”

You move to push yourself away, but Gavin holds you still, his one hand easily keeping you in place as he presses himself back up and onto his elbows. He pecks another kiss on your cheek.

“I’m happy too. You were really, really amazing.”

“I try my best.” Gavin chuckles, thumb still lackadaisical brushing up and down your back. “We should probably-”

“Do you-”

The two of you pause, each trying to let the other one speak their piece.You both laugh, but then you relent and let Gavin go first. His face fills with blush once more, adjusting himself and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the right way to speak.

“It’s just….that was a pretty fantastic first blowjob. And handjob, technically. Like, really great.” Gavin pauses, eyes darting from you to the ground. “I appreciate it so, so much. I was thinking that you could, uhm, maybe teach me how to-” The words stumble out of Gavin’s mouth, his hand slightly fidgeting with the back of your shirt, “Maybe you could teach me how to make you feel good? B-but only if you want to.”

You pause, slightly shocked, until you feel that tightening heat firing up in your belly, a slight tremor of excitement shaking down your limbs. You nod, just a tiny bit breathless.

“Y-yes, I would love that, Gavin.”

With a smirk, Gavin sweeps you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds onto your thighs, laying a kiss on your pulse point.

What a way to spend the new year.

#reader insert #my writing #monster x reader #minotaur #minotaur x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #exophilia

[kim-monsterlings]

Danon - M Hellhound x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; injury (brief, not to reader), mild aggression, mentions of death, soul bonding, fluff, receiving oral, penetrative sex (+ knotting), marking (no biting - tattoo), more fluff to top it off, with the NSFW only at the very end - (if there is anything else anyone would like tagged here that I haven't caught, let me know!)

Wordcount: 3715

Masterlist

 The creature rested at your front door had been your shadow for some time now.

 The raven fur thick at its scruff tinged with a crimson the nearer you came, and though you doubted its domesticity - its claws were far too long for any house pet, not to mention in place of fluffy ears were ram horns, wide and curled back to its neck - you still felt sympathy for the creature, wounded as it was.

 You first saw it nearly a month ago, trailing at your shadow when the evening fell into night. If the creature had wanted to have you then, it would have. The flash of fanged teeth hadn't been so unusual, until the muzzle almost tore back, sinew and tendons sewing flesh together, up to it skull. Then you'd known it wasn't quite a dog, nor some odd breeding anomaly, and had fought to ignore the memory.

 Until the creature was at your backdoor come dawn when you went to the river for water and herbs for medicine. You were no healer, not properly, but your parents had passed down knowledge you cherished and made use of. Poultices ready-made waited for collection, all the while your stalker sat by the tree line, waiting; you weren't sure what for.

 To see it so defeated when it was usually full of life tugged you down to your knees. The first time you had confronted it - in a rage of foolishness, really, considering how lucky you had been to avoid any harm at its infliction, the creature had staggered back almost in shock at having stones thrown, before letting loose a growl so low your muscles locked, and you thought then you had incited your own death, as its muzzle nudged up at your fist, the creature large enough to come to your hips like a pony.

 The memory was nothing now. You whispered, hoping to soothe the dog-like demon when you brushed its fur. It gave a low whine, and tail thin like a whip with an arrowed tip tucked neater to its belly. Whatever it was, was decisively male, but your focus was more on the scratches curled deep into its stomach, and the wound on its throat must have been from another creature of the same kind.

 "Hey, boy," you said and offered your hand for him to sniff. The notion struck you as pointless; obviously he recognised you, laying at your door after following for so long, but the press of a hot nose was more reassurance to you than anything. "Stay still. You'll be okay, boy."

 The idea of letting him inside was daunting, but you couldn't just leave him there to die. No matter why he followed you, he had come to you now for help, and you pressed onto his back carefully. When he snarled, you winced through gritted teeth.

 "Come on, boy." You tucked your hands beneath his back enough to encourage him up. Your door was open. All he had to do was collapse inside. "Go on-"

 With a pitiful whine, he fell heavily against your thigh as you led him in. He managed to carry himself to the fireplace before landing with a thud, and though he still breathed, you weren't surprised to find him now unconscious.

 Treating a dog was different from humans but you made do with what you had, and you couldn't do anything more than that. What you noticed, even as you tried not to, was the thick stench of something foul and smoky on washing away blood, and something about it twisted at you. Like it was unnatural. There wasn't anything natural to a dog of his size, with horns and a tail like that, nor a muzzle so wide and sharp, but you had already invited him in and tended to his wounds, so you moved on.

 You left a bowl of water and some old meat at his side but when you retreated to your room, sharp canines snatched your wrist. His eyes flicked up to you, a bright, burning red against his ashen body. When you conceded and sat at his side, a soft whimper enticed your fingers to his scruff, careful to avoid the horns and shallow wound.

 "You're okay," you hummed, holding still when he inched close enough to lay a heavy head on your thighs. "You'll be okay, boy. You’ll be healthy again, and you won't even try to eat me, will you? No," you whispered, and spoke until his eyes fell shut.

 That night you spent curled uncomfortably back against the sofa, falling in and out of a restless sleep. You woke before dawn to find the beast gone, and in his place was a man. The first, natural instinct that came to you was to scream; his head was nuzzled against your thighs, a hand curled at your hip and clutching loosely, but the familiarity struck you before the screech came.

 His body was the same black of his fur, a rich, almost obsidian, but the giveaway was the tail twined to his bare legs. Even still, his mouth seemed off, a little too wide, and the short nubs at his temples, though dramatically smaller horns, were the same.

 So you yawned, snatching the blanket off the sofa and laying it across his thin body, too. Waking hours later with daylight on your face, you were alone. He had rested you on the sofa with a pillow beneath your head and the blanket up to your neck. It melted away remnants of fear, after being alone with not only some demonic hound, but a strange man, too, more than capable of harming you.

 It was a struggle to continue your day as you normally would, but it was a weekend, so a short trip out was all you needed. You were back before midday but still alone. Alone until well into the evening, almost convinced it had been a fever dream until you had finished changing into comfortable clothes, and the silhouette standing in your kitchen turned, tail wound at his bare ankle.

 "Oh."

 The tail flicked and he watched you with glowing eyes, which darted back from you to the door. "If you would rather I leave-"

 "No. No, stay." His head canted much like it had when he was the creature, and you smiled, offering him a change of clothes you had bought; not so much a change, but something to cover up with. "I'd like the company, and an explanation."

 He apparently had no shame, and you had to admit, he needn't have any. His body was taut, and once more you were drawn to admiring him. The clothes hung off his frame, adding to his general unruliness - his hair particularly, ruffed with thick curls nearly enshrouding the nubby horns.

 The stranger was a foot or so taller than you, stiffening when you reached out towards him. He blinked when you introduced yourself, before whispering, "my name is Danon. It's okay," he said, and tipped his head down.

 They were rough, thick at the base, and Danon's breath caught when you stroked up to the tips. Horns of a devil, yet he stood before you still weakened by wounds visible, though closed over at his throat, at least. No blood stained the white shirt yet, so you instead moved past to make a drink for you each.

 "Start from the beginning, Danon."

 His lips twitched, though the smile didn't last. "I am a hellhound. We guide souls on from their lives here. My life is owed to you."

 You sipped in quiet until it helped calm your thoughts. Sat opposite a hellhound, you needed the strength. "Sounds lonely."

 His voice trembled. "It is."

When Danon chose not to elaborate, you embraced the quiet. He had only sniffed at the tea, but you wouldn't force him to drink it. With his hands so large, clawed, the mug shrunk between them.

He still remained quiet, so you watched him carefully and said, "you followed me for a month."

 "It was meant to be you."

 Danon's lips pulled back like he was snarling down at his mug, but the action somehow only made a smile grow on your face. He snapped his head up, slamming the mug down hard enough the handle shattered free.

 "It was your life I was sent for. Not the elder man. You. Say something," he bit out, a snarl coming audibly now when you just looked at him, heart-pounding but face unchanging. "Is that it? You don't care about your own life? I could snatch it from you now, leave you there breathless until-" he bit his cheek sharp as his tail swung out in short whips. "I chose to give you time."

 The only sound you could make was a breathless, "why?"

 "I watched you long before revealing myself."

 "Oh, don't tell me," you cut in, rolling your eyes. "You fell in love with me? Is that it?"

 "Yes."

 "Very funny," you snapped, and Danon's throat bobbed. Like you had done, he said nothing, and you began to grip your mug tighter. "Tell me you're lying. You killed someone because you love me?"

 "His time had come. I sent him in place of your soul. The world cannot lose you. The way you care for these people… not one other soul is so caring. You deserve to live."

 "But he didn't?"

 Danon's long tipped ears twitched, almost pinning back once your voice sharpened. He thumbed the crack in the mug with his claw and grunted, "we can claim a soul. I fought for yours and until I choose to let you pass," he glanced up, finding your face ashen. "You will live. The elder was sickly. Longer for him would be a cruelty. His soul was so far gone I couldn't resist guiding him. It's like… like an itch."

 Questions sprouted endlessly the more he spoke, and you fully intended to return to the matter of him claiming your soul, but he hunched over, and you wondered if it took a toll on him, being the one to cart people from this life. Better to have a guide than not, but your mind drifted to the man whose passing you'd heard of nearby; very old, very sick, and in a way, it was an easing of pain.

 "Don't I itch?"

 His warm laughter came as a surprise. Danon's tail swayed gently. "No. You're like a beacon to me. I need to scratch the itch, but your soul is where I return to. When you healed me, you accepted my claim. For simplicity," he murmured, canting his head a little to hold your eyes. "We are bound, 'til death do us part. It is late."

 Like that, Danon dismissed the questions burning in your mind. He rose, his form slender and lean, before rounding the table towards you. His claws pressed beneath your chin and he fell low, so close his breath brushed your face. The warmth in your stomach tightened your chest. If Danon lowered himself a little more, you would lean into his kiss without pause.

 "I will never apologise for choosing you."

 Sleep evaded you for a long time. Knowing that a creature of hell was resting in the lounge gave you plenty to torment over, and like he knew, the soft padding of paws entered your room. The beast huffed a heavy breath against your hand before curling at the foot of your bed, a weight that left you curled into yourself. His presence was a comfort, even as you struggled to stop thinking of him.

 He loved you. He loved you, and he had bound your souls together.

 Sometime in the night as your thoughts became heavier, the bed dipped. The creature rose, a yawn baring sharp teeth in a display that had frightened you nights ago, before whining quietly. He nudged at your arm until you let him lay close, nosing at your throat and whining again until you were able to rest.

 Danon wasn't by your side when you woke. There wasn't a trace of him left. The shattered mug had been cleared away, the smoky scent that followed him was gone, and the comfort with it. You almost thought it had been a dream, a delirious lie after being alone too long, and forced yourself to go about your day as you would normally. If Danon came home, it would be of his own choice.

 He staggered into your room three nights gone and collapsed to his knees in reaching out to you. It was the thick of night, so you woke with a cry at somebody waking you. Danon caught your face in clammy palms and hushed you. It was without a word that you kicked back the sheets for him, and he crawled beside you - bare, but so exhausted you couldn't find it in you to care as he clutched you tight with a rough sigh.

 It wasn't the time for questions, but you leaned back as far as you could with his arms snaked against you, brushing your hand against his burning cheek. "I missed you."

 His glowing eyes blinked down at you. "You missed me?"

 You hummed and leaned into his chest. "Did you have an itch?"

 His chest rose beneath you but it was answer enough. Danon's kiss was tentative, pressed to your temple like a breath, fleeting when he laid his cheek to your crown. "I missed you, too."

 "Tell me what it means to have my soul claimed."

"Come morning, you may ask me anything."

 "Will you be here?"

 The hellhound paused a breath. "I'm never far," he said, but it was answer enough as you woke entwined, cheek to his shoulder and with a tail draped over your hips.

 For a creature of hell, sunlight blessed him. The sharp angles of his face looked softer in the golden hue, and you were free to admire him until he grumbled and peeked open an eye at you. Danon's brows dipped when he found you already awake, but you were quick to catch his arm before he could lean away.

 "I fought for the right to your soul," he murmured, thick with sleep and slightly slurred. "It is mine. Nothing can take you without me releasing you."

 "Don't I own my own soul?"

 "It is mine," he said against the pillows, grumbling and turning away. Though as he fought to muffle himself, his arm around you tightened. "Pretty soul, too."

 "Am I immortal?" Danon breathed a laugh. His tail flicked down your legs and he shook his head. "Are you?"

 "If I wish to pass on, I may."

 The words were rough and muffled now he had found a spot on the pillow to hide from the light, but you spoke still. If he was in your bed, he would answer your questions. "Will you pass on when I do?"

 He hummed, "I might." You frowned, and he let out a rumble of a growl, turning fully from the pillow. Danon rose over you until you were laid back beneath him. "It is dependent on you."

 "Me?" You blanched, "why me?"

 "How attached I am. I never," he growled, and would have lurched back if not for your touch brushing his arm. "I never intended to claim someone. Your soul is my burden-"

 "I'm a burden?"

 Danon snarled, but you bit back a smile at the gesture. He brought himself close, forehead to yours, and whispered, "I loved you before claiming you. That is my burden alone. May I?"

 Throat tight, you tried to hold your voice steady when you asked, "may you?"

 "May I sleep?"

 Your breath rushed from you and you forced a nod, laying still as he nestled back into the pillows. Danon's hand skimmed your stomach when you slid free, and his tail snagged at your ankle before unwinding.

  Days passed much like that, and each in his presence weakened you. Confessions came in soft whispers when, to him, they were the only possible answer to yet another of your questions. You asked him if he had a home. He did; loose curls fell against his horns, brushed his dark eyes, and the answer, though he never did anything more than smile at you, echoed in your chest. It was the same reason he came back after a soul needed guiding, and the isolation of what he was struck you when he returned, falling into your arms no matter where he found you.

 The worst came when he was gone nearly a fortnight. Some nights you doubted if he would come back to you, and the memory of him seeing you as beacon became your clutch. You had taken to resting on the small sofa in the days, knowing that if he came back in the light, you would wake.

 His whine was so soft you thought him to be the beast when a warmth brushed your cheek, but arms tucked beneath you and curled you into a bare chest. Danon's lips lingered on your forehead before he laid you on your bed, whispering your name as he began to free you from your dress. The lace parted easily for him, and you brought his hands up to your sleeves when he made to turn, helping him undress you until you were left only in your underwear.

 "Don't stay away so long," you whispered, reaching out to brush back his loose curls. Danon trembled when you ran your thumb against his horns. "What if you didn't come back to me?"

 He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. "That will never happen."

 "This isn't one-sided," you said. Lengthened teeth cut into his lower lip when you slowly parted your legs beneath him, and Danon's hips fell against yours. He let out a breathless moan when your touch pressed to his lips and he let them part, tongue hot against you. "Did you not think I loved you?"

 He whined, and his head fell heavy onto your chest. You gasped when he kissed the soft skin as it fell low, and his hands settled on your hips. "Tell me you do."

 "I might," you said, and he was peppering softer kisses across your breast, hot lips drawing on your nipple until you groaned. "You'll have to do more than that first."

 Danon's lips curled up against your stomach, and relief flooded you when he moved lower. His thumbs stroked small circles into your thighs when he pressed his hot tongue to the fabric clinging to your body, tasting you through it. His teeth caught at the hem and as you lifted your hips, he snatched them off and returned as fast, kissing purple flushes onto your legs before pausing.

 "Tell me now."

 With a small smile, you reached low to hook a finger against his horn, and breathed, "not yet, love."

 He snarled half-heartedly before a long drag of his tongue made you choke. Danon flicked the muscle up until it nudged to your nerves, earning a sharp cry of his name in pleasure. The heat now rushing through you began to pool in your gut, and tightened with the passion he began to lap at you with. The hound growled low, and the shock of it ran in shivers through you.

 Claws curled against your skin and he pressed your legs back to your chest. The same fire you felt throbbing glowed in his eyes, and he almost held your stare for as long as he stretched your tight body around his tongue, if you hadn't shuddered and bucked against him.

 "Danon-" His nose forced hot air against you, nosing up at your clit and you stuttered out a plea, grasping at his hair and grinding your hips up to his face. "I need you. I need you to-Danon-"

 He yelped when you dragged him up, and his body rubbed hard against you. The weight of him slick and nudging to your core made you wriggle, and he palmed your stomach with a small smile, the other hand circling his cock and guiding it up so his head rubbed to your nerves.

 "If we do this, you will wear my mark." He turned to kiss your knee as it came against his shoulder. "Am I what you want?"

 The shine to eyes was so innocent that you nodded, tangling your fingers in his hair again to drag him against you. "I love you."

 Your voice broke on a hoarse cry. Danon laid over you, your legs strained up against him a way that had your body so tight and stuffed when his cock drove deep. His lips, thick and sweetened by your taste, parted on a heady groan with each thrust, each clench of your thighs dragging him deeper.

 At that moment, your souls recognised the other; they must have done, with a feeling of belonging overcoming you as Danon cradled your face, running away a tear of pleasure. He rutted up as he began to gasp and shake, a weight slamming against your centre. He soothed you with a whisper of his love, and grinned at your answering whine before the claw of his thumb flicked your clit. Bolts of pleasure knotted in your core. You cried, seeing white and locking tight in the same second Danon thrust hard, the knot forced into you and sticking.

 You felt him come, thick and hard until he was panting and kissing down your throat. The black swirls of his mark formed across your chest and Danon held you close as his knot swelled all the more.

 "Stay here." He swallowed, nipping at your jaw before meeting your eyes. "Stop travelling," you said quietly, and Danon's fingers running down your hips paused, splaying wide as he looked down at you. Your traced his chest, drawn to the stretch of his skin where a matching mark laid. "Care for this village, the neighbouring ones. You said you only take souls at their time. Guide theirs."

 "Stay with you?" His small smile tugged at your heart. Danon slid his arm lower to lift you up against him, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. "I will try."

I wrote Danon in like one sitting and honestly? He stole my heart. I don't know how it happened but this is the longest thing I've written that wasn't intended to be two parts. Danon is now my baby, and I hope you all loved him too - let me know if you did! Threw in the NSFW as a treat to myself. We love indulgent writing. Thank you for getting this far <3

#kim-monsterlings writing #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #demon #monster x human #hellhound #hellhound x reader #hellhound x human #2nd person #female reader #Danon the hellhound #kim-monsterlings #exophilia fluff #exophilia writing

[loving-all-for-loki]

May I request a little something? Reader is an employee at the compound and is super shy.. and gets teased by some of the other agents relentlessly. One of the male agents gets kind of aggressive to her because she’s walking through the training area and he starts shoving her saying how she doesn’t belong. But not realizing why she’s there; she’s meeting Loki for a lunch date and he sees someone unworthy treating his lover like trash. If you don’t mind 🥺

A/N: Omg, totally, I had so much trouble figuring out which Avenger would be this mean, but also I feel like Steve would go to the gym to let off some angry steam so I went with him. Two things: The beginning is slow so I apologize and second, I did change lunch date to dinner for continuity. <3 It might seem a bit chunky because I did write some of this last night while I was tired, so I'm sorry if the quality isn’t the greatest.

Also, you're my first request, this notification made me very happy. Request as much as you want :)

You Belong

Loki x reader

Word count: 2201

Warnings: small mention of violence, mean!Steve, Loki fluff

Y/D/N - your dog’s name

It’s not like you hate working at the tower. In fact, it’s the best job you’ve gotten in a year considering you’ve been doing retail work for six years, but as soon as you heard about an opening at the Stark Tower, you resigned and applied.

Simple enough, your job includes watching security cameras and sitting at a desk. Sure, you’re a receptionist, but not much happens so you usually go on your phone and smile at the Avengers as they enter the building. You’re not complaining since you’re not the most outgoing person and the gods know what would happen if you were to have to interact with any of the Avengers (probably you spilling coffee on them or stumbling over your words). Most people don’t believe you when you tell them your job, but after a couple of your friends brought you lunch and crossed paths with the heroes, they stopped teasing you.

You’ve always admired the heroes. Steve, Captain America. You were told stories about him when growing up so when news broke out that he was alive, you became a fanatic. Then came along Tony Stark who famously announced his status as Iron Man and then the presence of an actual god, aka Thor.

They’ve been okay with you in the past. You thought that because they were Earth’s Mightiest heroes that they’d be nice to you, but they often shit all over you. You’ve attempted to say hi to them before, but you get mixed reactions every time.

“Good morning Clint.” … .“Even my deafness can’t drown out your annoying voice.”

“Good afternoon Thor.” …. “Earthling.”

“Mr. Rogers, there’s a package for-” … . “just send it to the floor. No need for conversation.”

Bucky, who is known to most of the world as the quiet boy, will wave and say hi every so often. You think he only likes you only because of your quiet nature, not freaking out over them or treating them like gods. The other Avengers ignore your gestures. Most of the people in the building will get ignored if they attempt to talk to any of them, or if they make the mistake and attempt to approach Tony Stark who will insult them then demand them to pick up his dry cleaning. You’ve been on the wrong end of his antics before, but it’s amusing to watch him mess with people who don’t know not to talk to him.

The attack on New York was the most memorable day, not because of the debut of the Avengers, but because of the introduction of Loki. Everyone was scared, not knowing what his intentions were until the creatures came. You remember working that day at the Tower when they came flooding down. Windows broke and people were going crazy.

Like the idiot you are, you just hid under the desk and hoped for the best. You could hear the screams and echoes of crying around you. It felt like hours before they were gone. Finally gaining the strength to come out of hiding, you found the US army in the building with Loki in handcuffs. You got a good look at the god before he made eye contact with you.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes as the two of you stared at each other. You couldn’t tell his facial expression due to the muzzle like thing over his face, but the way he looked at you made butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t decide if he scared you or intrigued you. He sized you up, either in case he needed to fight you or he was checking you out. Then came more action.

There were double agents then Loki was gone. You weren’t even sure what to make of it. Months went by without the sight or even talk of Loki. Life went by like normal with the Avengers coming and going and your coworkers bitching about something that you didn’t concern yourself with.

Loki showed up one day out of the blue. Most people got nervous, but you felt the same feeling as the first time you saw him. You couldn’t even give him the same smile or wave as the others for a day or two, not wanting to look stupid in front of the powerful god. Picking up bits and pieces from eavesdropping on Mr. Stark, you found out Loki was staying with the avengers for a while as punishment for New York.

The thought of having to see the black haired god every day made you excited. There was something about him that was different from the rest. Maybe it was his power, or confidence, or even the way that he dressed. After a while, you mustered up the strength to wave to him as he entered the building, which shocked him the first time. He politely waved back, but then it became a habit. Then him buying you a coffee became a habit.

The first time you saw him drop coffee off by you was thrilling. You two became more than what you had with the other Avengers, every so often he’d even stop and talk to you for a moment. He learned your name, dog’s name, even your grandmothers. Your coworkers were stunned by the interactions, given the fact that you’ve never talked to any of them.

“Y/N.”

You look up to see the god saunter over you with a coffee in hand, Thor following close behind.

“I was wondering something.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you have a boyfriend, by any chance?”

“Of course she doesn’t. Have you seen… her?” Thor teases

“Go away, you lug.”

Thor rolls his eyes at Loki as he walks away, watching you two with a suspicious eye.

“I’m sorry for my oaf brother.”

“You don’t have to apologize. The Avengers see me as a burden.”

“That’s not right. You’ve been nothing but helpful, at least sine we’ve known each other.”

“I’m glad someone feels that way.”

“Anyways, you didn’t answer my question. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You felt the heat in your cheeks as he asked the question and hoped Loki doesn’t see your embarrassed rosy tint. Although you try to not let the heroes get to you, Thor is right. You have no chance of getting a boyfriend.

“I’m not… I uh.. No, I guess. No, I don’t.”

“Wonderful, so I take it you have no plans tonight?”

“Uh, no, I don’t.”

“Perfect. Meet me in the Avenger’s living quarters at seven. Wear something nice.”

Loki’s words linger in your head all day until you’re in your bedroom picking out something to wear. You know Loki, he’s flashy, bold. Nothing you own is flashy or bold enough to match him, but he also said something nice so is flashy and bold the way to go? You let out a frustrated sigh when your dog comes to the sound. He starts licking your face, sending you into a laughing frenzy.

“I know, Y/D/N, you make things better sometimes.”

You pet him for another moment before returning to the current dilemma. Searching through your closet, you pick out a simple black truffle dress knowing black will work for any occasion. You settle on some gold earrings and red lipstick. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you pray to whatever god that you’re not overdoing or overthinking the situation.

The night floods over New York as you drive to the Avengers tower. Every possible circumstance flows through your head. Good ones like Loki being into you, the date going well, possibly marrying him one day. Then the bad ones like this are set up, he’s going to be rude, he’s going to be demanding and pushy. As you pull up to a red light, you slam your forehead on the steering wheel. What are you doing to yourself? This is the god of lies, mischief, after all. There’s no way this will be some normal date he asked you on.

Oh my god, he asked you on a date. You’re going on an actual date with an actual god.

You pull up to the tower and park. Bringing yourself up the courage, you get out and make your way inside. Most of the workers are gone besides the security and one receptionist, Katie, who is by far your least favorite coworker. She stares at you in shock at your appearance.

“And where do you think you’re going dressed like that, missy?”

You get all flushed by her teasing, heading straight towards the elevator with hopes of no more interruptions. The attention you got from her was already too much. What if Loki makes a big deal? What if he goes on for what feels like hours about how you look? What if he doesn’t say anything? What if you’re not what he expected?

Trying to shake away the negative thoughts impaling your brain, you walk off the elevator as the doors open. Looking around, you realize you don’t really know where the living quarters are. You’ve never been on their floors before. Most of the time, the elevator won’t take anyone but the Avengers up there due to Tony Stark's well made A.I that practically runs the tower.

You wander the floor slowly, taking in every sight as you walk. You silently thank yourself for wearing small heels since you could hear a pin drop. The large windows display the night sky so well, showing every inch of New York below you. The light from the moon shines in the hallway as you make your way down.

A large thumping sound comes from the end of the hallway, drawing your attention to it and away from the scenery. Slowly, you make your way over to the sound, hoping it’s an indication of where you need to go, but it’s not like you know any better. The sound staggers, going off every so often but not consistently. You wander your way to a room with the door wide open, the sound emanating from it.

You peek in to see Captain America going at it on the punching bag. He’s shirtless so the lights reflect right off the sweat dripping down his body. You’ve always known the serum made him this buff super soldier, but the way his body is completely… perfect… is beyond you. Steve stops for a moment and turns around.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t be here. This floor is for Avengers only.”

“I was just meeting-”

“What with Tony? Are you just another one of his booty calls? I know you don’t speak much, since you’re all ‘shy’ and that,” Steve says, putting a sarcastic emphasis on ‘shy’, “but sorry to burst your bubble. Stark doesn’t date his receptionists.”

You are stunned into silence. In all of the teasing you’ve received from the Avengers, you’ve never had any of them treat you like this. You freeze up, not knowing what to say or even do besides fiddle with your fingers.

“Nat was right. You’re just some dumb secratary.”

That was the final blow. You back up quite quickly and go back down the hallway. You try to not mess up your makeup as you cry the whole way there. Steve’s scoffing is still able to be heard down the hallways until he comes up to you. He pushes you over, stumbling over your heels, as he walks away, muttering about you not belonging there.

As Loki exits his room, he hears a muffled cry from somewhere off in the distance. He wanders the halls to see you walking slowly towards him, trying to contain your tears. Anger eters his body as he storms towards you, raging at whoever or whatever made you cry. Then he sees Steve push past you in a hurried manner, muttering something to himself. Loki grabs his arm right before he can manage to pass by.

“What did you say to her?” he shouts.

“I told her she doesn’t belong up here. She’s a receptionist for goodness sake, not a very important one, but one that isn't allowed up here.”

“Did it ever come across to your small mind that maybe she does belong here?”

“How would she be?”

“Maybe because I asked her out on a date and told her to meet me here, but let me guess, you’re too shoved up your honorable and glorious ass to hear her speak?”

“Not like she speaks much.”

“And when did that ever stop you with the Winter Soldier?”

Steve stares daggers at Loki until he realizes the god may be right. Not wanting to admit his own fault, he scoffs and yanks his arm out of Loki’s grip, walking away to the showers. Loki looks back to see you staring at him.

“I’m so sorry, love. He’s not as great as he seems.”

“No, he’s right. I don’t belong-”

“Don’t you dare say that. You do belong here, as much as I do, especially when you’re with me.”

You smile as his kind words, feeling the desperate sadness fading away from your mind. Loki reaches out for your hand with a gentle smile.

“Now, I believe we have dinner waiting.”

#loki fluff #loki imagine #loki fan fiction #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #lovingallforloki #anonrequest

[divine-mistake]

The Cracks in Our Reality (1)

Summary: Loki hates the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower because she’s too loud and too sarcastic and too kind and too soft, especially to him, who really doesn’t deserve it.

Characters: Loki/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, violence

A/N: Thanks for reading my first ever fanfiction! Updates weekly on Saturday.

Series Masterlist | AO3 | Playlist

The first time he hears her voice, it is shrill and shrieking and about his brother, so of course he hates it.

“Thor’s here?” Loki hears as they walk down the hallway. When he gambles and glances to his side, Thor’s lips are split with the biggest grin Loki’s seen him wear since they touched down in Midgard. Vacantly, he guesses it’s a fangirl who’s waiting for his brother—how typical.

It’s always like this.

And as they approach the room from which the light is bleeding into the hallway, Thor’s fangirl shouts again, “Why didn’t you tell me? Where the hell is he?”

Thor crosses the threshold into Loki’s new world in three long strides. Unlike his brother, Loki sticks to the shadows, only moving close enough to see what is awaiting him past the corner of the corridor. It’s all one big blur of motion, really, as Thor strides through the Avengers Tower and scoops a young woman off her feet, into his arms, and Loki’s reflex is to curl his lip in sneer. 

He looks away and ignores the girlish giggles, choosing to survey his new surroundings instead. With one wide sweep of the room, he indexes four familiar faces.

Stark, who's watching his brother and the fangirl, shoulders drawn up and tight in defense.

Rogers, America’s Golden Boy, with his biceps bulging from where his arms are crossed.

Banner. He smiles and Loki feels a mixture of fear and guilt swirl viciously inside him.

And Romanoff, who’s staring right at him, her eyes narrowed, a twitch in her index finger. Evidently she’s not forgiven his sins either. Not that it matters—as quickly as she could pull the handgun strapped to her thigh on him, he could vanish in half that.

There’s only one person Loki can’t catalogue, can’t connect her face to a name, and it’s the fangirl Thor is spinning around the room with, her legs swinging wildly in the air.

She shouts his brother’s name jubilantly, the loudest sound in the room, their laughs mingling together like the sweet and spice of mead.

“My lady!” Thor squeezes her to his body in a tight grip once they stop twirling in place, and then she’s kicking her feet until her polished black heels slide off and hit the floor, fists pounding on his shoulder.

Well, a fangirl surely wouldn’t do that.

“Put me down you big puppy man, you obnoxious God, you are killing me—” The woman is wheezing even as she yells, quite dramatically really, and Loki’s sneer starts to turn into a frown. Who is she to talk to the King of Asgard with such disrespect? As much as Loki loves to see Thor ridiculed, her casual relationship with his brother irritates him more than he anticipated.

Thor drops her onto her bare feet with a delicate softness Loki’s never witnessed before, and the woman settles herself, pulling her dress down and brushing imaginary dust from the fabric, and then she turns up to look at his brother and she wears the most gorgeous smile on her face Loki might ever have witnessed.

“Welcome back to Earth,” she quips, her voice much gentler now, and Loki decides right then and there that he doesn’t just hate her voice.

He hates her.

“It’s good to be back, my lady. Have you been well?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but Stark cuts her off immediately.

“Pleasantries later, ” he says, taking a step toward Loki’s direction. “Reindeer Games is lurking in the shadows over there and it’s making me second guess this whole shebang.”

That’s his cue. Loki slinks out from the corridor and into the light of the common room, and all eyes are on him. He basks in the attention like a cat basks in the sun. This is the first time in a long time he's been on Midgard without chains seizing his hands and feet—his mouth is free of a muzzle and he’s going to use it.

“Stark,” he purrs, but his eyes flit around the room, passing over every single Avenger that’s now standing defensively. “Always a pleasure to be in your presence.”

Vaguely, he’s aware of how the woman has taken to Thor’s side, where his brother is sheltering her under his arm, but he doesn’t break Stark’s stare to look at her. What care does he have for one of Thor’s fangirls anyway?

“You brought your brother here?” she asks, and Loki relishes in the hint of fear hiding itself within the confusion in her voice.

“Did they not tell you?” Thor sounds increasingly worried.

“No,” she hisses, “they did not. What the fuck is going on, Tony?”

Rogers moves closer now, and Loki lends his gaze to the way the super soldier’s hand falls upon the woman’s shoulder, swallowing it. She bristles slightly at his touch and it amuses him for a moment. Maybe she dislikes America’s Golden Boy just as much as he does.

“We meant to tell you, sweetheart,” Rogers says, his voice gentle. 

Disgusting. Is she everyone’s fangirl in this cursed tower? 

“It slipped my mind after the mission a few nights ago. I’m sorry we didn’t warn you.”

She shrugs Rogers’ hand off her shoulder, but Thor holds onto her tightly. Loki feels like his eyes will burn out of his head from how long he’s been staring, how rigid his body, how much he wants to be anywhere but here right now.

“Are you serious?” Loki isn’t sure he’s seeing the same woman who was just looking at his brother like he was the sun, what with the way she’s glaring at Stark now. “Was I the last to know about this? Is there a room ready for him? Does the press—oh god, the fucking press doesn’t know about him, do they? Tony, I’m going to have to call a press conference. I’m going to have to rebook all the schedules. Are you shitting me?”

Then, she whirls on him, slipping out from beneath Thor’s arm and marching up to him like he isn’t the crazed man who tried to subjugate New York a few years prior. As if he isn’t a God. As if he couldn’t crush her frail body beneath the nail of his smallest finger.

He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or frightened, so Loki settles for the burning hatred that’s been crawling over his skin since he entered the Tower.

She juts out a hip, places her hand on it, and looks straight up at him. “Do you even want to be here?”

No. Of course not.

But no one ever bothers to ask Loki what he wants, and now this puny Midgardian has done so within the first five minutes of even knowing him, and he doesn’t even know her name but there is so much heat searing through him and he hates her.

She isn’t much, really. She’s small in stature, her head barely grazing his brother’s shoulders, forcing her to crane her neck as she addresses Loki. If she were to kneel at his feet now, she’d be the perfect height for him to take his pleasure. He quickly rips the thought away and throws it to the fire growing in his veins.

But she is curvy, that much is sure. She is much thicker than the slim Midgardian women he’s seen on his journeys here, much softer than the Asgardian warriors who are built with muscle alone. Loki can’t keep staring at her, he can’t. Her eyes are narrowed, but bright in the lighting of the common room. Her lips, painted a brilliant shade of red, are twisted into some sort of puckered frown that makes him wonder how well she’d fare when he played tricks on her.

He scoffs at her, rolling his eyes and looking away, because Norns, what is he supposed to say?

The truth?

“Banner, why don’t you walk Rabbit to her room?” Stark calls, and when Loki looks back at him, they’re locked in another stare. Loki feels a wave of something new, something bordering on shame, something that has him grasping for a scepter not in his hand and eyeing the bright blue beam of light in Stark’s chest. He still remembers what it felt like, that day he invaded New York.

It doesn’t feel good to remember, so like with all things, he pushes it to the back of his mind and replaces it with a smirk.

“What?” The woman—Rabbit, her name, perhaps—turns her glare on Stark once again. “You can’t just drop an Asgardian in the middle of my living room, ruin all my carefully crafted schedules for the next month and a half, and then tell me to go to my room like a child!”

“Run along now, little girl,” Loki mocks, and when she recoils at his words and takes a step back like she’s shocked, the heat that’s been building in his blood is suddenly ice. Her face is different now, brows drawn in anger, and her whole body stiffens and Loki feels like he does when he changes back into his native form.

Until she draws up a finger at him, storming toward him, ire flashing in her eyes with every step she takes, and Loki is alive again. His tongue is sharp, ready to meet her shrill demands, but Thor reaches out and grabs her with one sweep of his arm. She’s tugged back into his brother’s grasp, held closely to the broad expanse of Thor’s chest, and Loki stamps out his rising excitement. His brother ruins everything.

“My lady,” Thor says, “my brother lacks tact around pretty women, but he is harmless, I assure you.”

Loki lets his eyes drag from the top of her head down to the tips of her bare toes, still twisting against the floor as if she’s trying to break away from Thor’s hold, their lacquer catching the shine of the light. She painted them pink. Loki doesn’t think she’s all that pretty—he’s seen better in Midgard alone.

But then she mumbles something under her breath that sounds wickedly similar to “He’ll be harmless once I maim him with my shoe,” and Loki has to swallow back the laugh threatening at his lips.

The woman rips herself out of Thor’s grasp, shoving him away. Comically, Thor pretends as though her strength is enough to move him, feigning a stumble backward. Then, she picks up her heels from where they dropped to the floor and slips them onto her feet, and suddenly Loki could press his nose into the top of her head at this height.

“C’mon then, Bruce.” Without looking, she begins to stride toward the hallway, brushing past Loki. “We’ll let the boys pretend they have their shit under control.”

As she speaks, her eyes cut back to Loki, gaze burning. He isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him with this much contempt before and gotten away with it. Banner quickly follows her and Loki listens to the rhythmic click of her heels all the way down the corridor until the elevator dings, and then she’s gone for good.

Her scent, floral and clean, clings to his nose for the rest of the night. He hates it.

“They call it community service here in Midgard!” Thor says, beaming. Loki wants to tear his brother's lips from his face, to burn that smile off his visage.

“You say that as if I should be proud,” Loki snarls back.

His room in the Tower is quaint. It’s more than Stark should offer him, that’s for sure, but Loki guesses it’s only more than a prison cell for the sole reason that it’s connected to Thor’s apartment and they don’t want the brothers to be separated. At the very least, it’s furnished. The bed is soft and big enough to share with a partner. He has a bathroom en suite. A walk-in closet to fill with clothes he doesn’t own.

Loki doesn’t own anything. Not even himself, now that he’s doing this community service on a planet he’s tried to conquer. Community service as a probationary Avenger in the stead of eternal damnation.

Thor only claps him on the back. “‘Tis better than serving a jail sentence, is it not?”

He raises a brow. “As if it isn’t imprisonment itself.”

“You should be thankful, Loki. Stark has been very cooperative with allowing you to stay here as an Avenger—”

“As a prisoner,” he interjects.

“—without threat of cells or cages or even chains.”

“And yet I am not allowed to leave the Tower.”

Thor frowns. “You tried to subjugate New York.”

Loki peruses this for a moment. He could say anything, but would it ever matter? It isn’t as if Thor’s ever understood. He didn’t understand when Loki let go and fell from the Bifrost and he sure didn’t understand when Thanos forced Loki to destroy New York. He never understands.

So instead of saying anything, Loki rolls his eyes, stalks into his room, and slams the door shut. He hopes it’ll make Thor finally leave him alone.

But Thor just stands on the other side of the door, shouting through the wood.

“This is your chance, brother. This is your chance at redemption. Do not let it go lightly, and I beg you, do not screw it up.”

Redemption—what a joke. If Odin taught Loki anything, it was that there was never going to be any redemption for him. He was lost. Irredeemable. A cold monster in the warm skin of an Asgardian. A snake who spoke in tongues, in lies and misery. Loki was nothing more than a puppet who didn’t see how his strings connected him to his master.

Loki waits until he hears Thor stomp away, until he hears the slam of the door across from his own, before he conjures an image of his mother in the palm of his hand.

He doesn’t know how long he spends looking at her, a vision spread against his fingers. The only sign that she isn’t real is the shimmering edges of Loki’s illusion. Once upon a time, when there was so much blood and sweat and tears running into his eyes, he wasn’t able to tell what was real and what was magic. Illusory images are only illusory to those of a sound mind—something Loki hasn’t always been.

Even he, the God of Lies, has a reality that can be broken. A truth that can be muddled by pain and fear until it shows what he wishes, what he would beg, the truth to look like.

A knock at the door almost sends him into a panic, flashes of the monster who haunts his nightmares creating new colors behind the back of his eyes. The illusion of Frigga dissipates into the air. Loki throws himself to his feet, flies from his bed to the door in a handful of steps, anger like a hot knife through the parts of his brain the terror hasn’t yet eaten through.

“Leave me be!” he roars at Thor from this side of the door. His hand twitches to conjure a dagger. If he opened the door, would the Mad Titan be on the other side? No. It’s only Thor. The Mad Titan is dead. 

But Loki never saw him die—how can he be sure he is truly gone?

He cannot. His reality has been bent and broken and shattered a thousand times by the Mad Titan and Loki cannot remember what is real and what is false anymore.

With a dagger in hand, Loki throws the door open, prepared to see anything—Thor, Thanos, the father he slaughtered without a thought—and yet he is still surprised by what he sees standing just outside his room.

The dagger disappears from his white-knuckled grip. The Midgardian woman’s eyes are wide, like moons, the depth of color in her irises the crevices and craters. She takes a step back and Loki sees her hands trembling.

His lips part to apologize. Pride seizes in his chest and he closes his mouth. His breathing is labored, chest heavy with the rise and fall of every tight contracting of his lungs. She’s holding something in her arms. A tray is set beside her on the floor, a few scattered plates of Midgardian food sitting atop it.

The silence between them is deafening.

In a moment all too soon, her eyes narrow into slits and she rolls her shoulders back, straightening her spine and drawing up to her full height. Loki reminds himself that he can crush her. He could kill her with one strike of his boot. She is nothing, and the ice that is making a slow crawl up every disc in his back isn’t guilt, it’s caution.

How dare a mortal as small as she look at him like that? He is the Prince of Asgard, the Rightful King of—

“Fuck you,” she spits, and it’s Loki’s turn to recoil. Instantly, the edges of his vision turn red and he hopes, shamefully, that his eyes are flashing the same dreadful, savage color as a means to scare her into submission.

His nostrils flare with his indignation. “How dare you—” he starts, but she throws whatever she had been holding at his chest and Loki instinctively grabs it. It’s soft against his cold hands.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she hisses, venom dripping from every word. “I thought you might need some extra fucking blankets. Excuse me for being nice, Your Highness.”

The way the word rolls off her tongue makes his fingers tighten in the downy fabric she’s given him. He should feel good. In fact, he tips his chin upward to look down upon her from the slope of his nose. But he doesn’t feel good.

“I don’t need anything from you, little girl,” he sneers. “I have no business with you.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, jutting out that damn hip again.

“Actually, you’ll have much more business with me from now on, Your Highness.” With a grace he wasn’t sure she had, she draws up a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, eyes never leaving his. “I’m the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower. You’ll be seeing much more of me, and unfortunately, I’ll be seeing much more of you.”

Loki scoffs. “A mortal such as yourself could hardly provide me with anything satisfactory.”

He glances, almost imperceptibly, at the dinner tray she’s brought up to him. Loki swallows a lump in his throat.

She shrugs. “Whatever. You can be an asshole if you want. I’ll still do my job whether you like it or not because I’m a professional and I’m damn good at what I do.”

Her eyes flash with something dangerous, and then she’s taken two steps forward and is craning her neck up to look at him, on her tiptoes in an attempt to match his height. Her pointer finger is just below his chin.

It brings him an exhilaration he hasn’t felt in centuries, a thrill trembling through his nerves.

“But if you ever draw a knife on me again, you’ll regret it.”

He laughs, flashing her a predatory grin, but she doesn’t back down.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he says, his tone mocking.

Her lips peel back to reveal a set of pearly teeth, and though her mouth softens, her eyes are as sharp as the blade of his dagger.

“I do the bidding of every Avenger in this tower,” she tells him. “You, included. Every single person in this entire building owes me a favor. I’m not beneath calling on every one of them to knock you down a peg, Your Highness.”

Loki watches as she lowers herself back down, rolling off the balls of her feet. He’s gripping the door frame so hard he can feel the wood giving beneath his fingers. There is something so vexatious about this woman that he can’t discern.

“If you need anything, you can ask FRIDAY to let me know. You can call me Rabbit—it’s what everyone else here calls me, and Tony’s annoyingly programmed the AI to call me that, too. Enjoy your lonesome night, Your Highness.”

She turns on her heel before he has a chance to reply, strutting out of his apartment and disappearing around a corner. He hears the quiet ding of the elevator, just as he did earlier, signaling her departure.

Loki looks down at the tray of food she’s left behind. With one angry breath, a wave of magic bursts forth from his body, sending the plates crashing against the walls of the apartment. Food smears down every surface. Ceramic and glass mingle in shattered pieces. It’s immature. It’s childish. He knows this, but he can’t stop himself. Fury pulses at his fingertips, hot like the burn of ice.

He hates her.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @poetic-fiasco @suffocatinglypositive @melancholic-metanoia 

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki love #avengers loki #plus size reader #redemption loki #loki fanfic #the cracks in our reality #loki pov #loki series #thanks for supporting me!

[7soulstars]

so glad you opened requests again! can I request an avengers x reader who has huge white wings ,but doesn't know how to fly ..maybe they found her in a hydra base locked in a cage, scarred and frightened and they took her in. thank you 💞

 Hey Darling! Thank you sooo much for sending in a request and for being so patient! I really love this idea and I'll try my best to give it justice it deserves. I really hope you enjoy it ! Love you !

Alate

...............

Pairing: Avengers x Avenger! Reader

Warnings: Reader is traumatised, ANGSTY AF, Overprotective Bucky, OOC Stephen, Avenger Loki (I just love him OKAY !), Floof

Summary: “Man must rise above the Earth—to the top of the atmosphere and beyond—for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives.”– Socrates

...............

Alate; having wings or lifted up in flight.

Soaring she moved like the wind would. As if even the winged gods and angels followed her path. Legs dangling she watched the lit up city beneath her, recalling her past.

It had been a regular enough mission. Ambush, Steal Information and destroy base. Natasha, Scott, Steve, Wanda, Loki and Tony moved as the rest directed them through the ear piece in their ear. Scott had managed to break in first through the main door of the warehouse with Wanda following suit. Loki got Tony and Steve in through the back and Nat, well, she slithered in from the top. Then came the problem. The files weren't in the fucking warehouse but at least 30 Hydra Agents were. But then again it never was a big deal when you had even half a handful of superheroes and a villian turned vigilante inside together. 10 minutes and half were either dead or barely alive. Just when they were about to leave Tony noticed the basement. Scott was made to go first since he wouldn't be noticed by anyone. And he definately did not expect to see what he saw.

"I don't like this. Nope."

"What the hell are you talking about Lang ?"

"Get in here !"

"No you tell us what is going on !"

"THEY'VE KEPT THIS GIRL PRISIONER AND HER STATE DOES NOT LOOK GOOD. WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR BULLSHIT ONE OF YOU GET HER OUT !"

"...........Stark blast the door open..........."

"Don't have to say more Capsicle"

There was a boom and the lead door fell open, almost squashing Scott who yelled a 'watch it' before sizing up.

What they saw was what Peter would say ‘Does not pass the vibe check’

It was a metal box. Only the front covered with bulletproof glass, that was covered with perspiration and probably high amounts of dust. Chains made of lead bound her limbs. Her mouth was muzzled, hair matted, bruises and cuts everywhere, cloth covered something protruding from her back and it looked like it hurt. She cowered into a corner of the box, glaring at the newcomers, visibly terrified as her body trembled.

“What kind of -”

“Sick bastard ? Demon Spawn ?”, Tony continued for Natasha.

“We need to get her out of here”, Loki said grimacing at the way she was being treated.

“She won’t come with us voluntarily.....When, Pietro and I were being controlled by Hydra....We complied so we were never tied down like that.....But the stronger, dangerous ones are.....abused.....Brainwashing probably didn’t work on her....so they may have subdued her and she probably won’t react well to us....”, Wanda said. She felt sick to her stomach at the girl’s state. Old memories came rushing through.

Nat agreed, trying to figure out how to get the other out. They all stood there silently wracking their brains as Bucky and Sam who had stood guarding the outside came in because the others were taking too long.

“ We need to leave they probably called for back-”, Bucky stopped to look in the direction of the cell, “Y/N ??”, he looked shocked as he moved to touch the glass seperating the two. The girl desperately tried to shuffle near to him, struggling with the chains holding her in place. It almost looked like he had forgotten about anyone or anything as he tried to break the glass holding her in. Loki helped in a way too. He somehow unlocked all the chains and the muzzle with his magic. The cloth from her back came loose and there was a bright light blinding everyone for a second. They were wings.....The whitest anyone had ever seen.

The ride in the quinjet was a rather troublesome one. Y/N would hiss at anyone who even tried to mildly interact with her, flinching everytime someone moved and clinging onto Bucky’s arm as she buried her head into his chest. Everthing scared her. The machines, the people, every single thing.

Bucky looked at her in pity.He was angry that he could never get her out of that hellhole. He was angry at himself. You see, Y/N was kidnapped and brought in by Hydra at the mere age of 10. She met Bucky for the first time at the mere age of 16. 

She was one of those who didn’t listen. One of those cases where a brainwashed Soldat was thrown into their cell to discipline them. But she was also one of them whom he refused to bring himself to harm even in that state. She had helped him once. When he was badly injured as he was thrown into her cell . She had looked past her fear and wrapped a scrapped part of her dust ridden gown around his hand. That was the last he had seen of her. He had thought they got rid of her.

Nat had tried. To make the girl at least glance at her. She finally succeeded on offering her food. It made Nat feel a weird kind of warmth something she hadn’t felt ever. 

By the time they reached headquarters Y/N had familiarised herself or at least tried to with everyone. Wanda had helped her in and out of the shower. Nat had brought her clothes. Loki kept apparating and magic-ing stuff to amuse her. Satisfied with a smug look on his face when she let out a soft gasp of excitement. 

Next part was the difficult bit. Equipment everywhere. It recalled the girl of enough horridness. Steve had hesitated and asked if a full health checkup was necessary immediately and it turned out that it was. But Bruce was gentle. At that moment Y/N wondered if such gentleness had ever existed and if it did, why hadn’t she gotten a nibble of it.

Tony had stopped Peter and Thor from attacking the girl with their golden retriever personalities as he constanly kept inquiring to F.R.I.D.A.Y about her origin. Scott and Sam had bickered making Y/N giggle as she sat by Loki and Bucky. For the first time in her life she felt at peace.

Stephen Strange met Y/N a month after her rescue all after winning a bickering contest with Tony when the rest of the Avengers suggested it in the first place saying that ‘It’s not only unfair to him considering his position in the team but he can also help her.’ 

See the thing is that Y/N didn’t know her true potential and the irony is that even with wings she had no idea how the fuck to fly. 

Stephen liked her. Wong did too. She was quiet and spoke only when necessary but there was kindness and fascination in her eyes. She had tried her hand in sorcery and she was learning. Fast though not as fast as Stephen it was surprising. 

Her wings were heavy It was understandable why she didn’t try flying. But Stephen tried. Oh how he did and though embarassingly for him he had also asked the others for assistance but it never seemed to work. 

Y/N had felt what the meaning of being called an Avenger for the very first time and that it was filled with loss and pain. She had looked around her as she threw the magical golden whip at the enemy. Nat was limping. Steve struggled. Peter was down on his knees. A pack of little screams had alerted her as she looked to see a set of civilians at whom guns were being cocked at. She had leapt. Without thing of the consequences as Bucky had yelled a painful no. She lept right in front of the group,Her wings shielding them when she heard the shots go off. She waited for the pain but she felt nothing but little jerks. The battle had turned silent. Everyone had stopped to look and take in what had had happened. Her wings had ricochetted evey single bullet. Hitting them backing into the ones who had fired them in the first place. And for the first time that she had flapped them she felt herself lift off the ground as the shone a blinding white.

Y/N recalls Sundays. The days when everyone sat together at Stark Towers as they lean on Y/N’s wings watching movies peacefully with occasional perks of laughter.

Shimmering gold and green flashed beside her as she sat recalling on top of the building. A hand placing a book by Socrates in her hand. “They’re waiting and I’m tired of being pestered. Come on, let’s go”,he snarked earning a giggle.

She finally knew what the quote meant. She was lucky to be Alate.

--The End --

Finally done! I am so sorry for delaying all the requests I’m really going through a very important and stressful phase of my life. (One which practically determines my future). Thank you so much for being patient and I really hope you will enjoy this fic! Feedback is appreciated and please like, reblog and comment if you like my work to support me! I have made changes in my fic request list so do check it out! Please do not plagarise my work!

~Love, Hri

#ask hri #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu x you #Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers poly #avenger!reader #ask me anything #SEND REQUESTS #send me asks #avengers x you #avengers x platonic reader #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #loki odinson #stephen strange #tony stark #peter parker #bucky barnes #steve rogers

[thunder-at-dawn]

June 12th

so i know that the mcytickle month event ended, but there were still a couple of prompts i wanted to do! here’s the first one :D also, a bit inspo for this fic came from a fic by @soft--dragon, which you can read here!

word count: 2,704

prompt: beacons

character: fundy

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

ItsFundy: Eret!!

The_Eret: Fundy, hey! :D What’s up?

ItsFundy: Remember how you said that you were looking for some extra flowers for dyes? I managed to find some for you!

ItsFundy: Do you want me to bring them over now if you aren’t busy?

The_Eret: You got flowers??

ItsFundy: All kinds of them!

The_Eret: That’s fantastic!! Thank you Fundy :)

The_Eret: Although, I am a little bit busy tonight D: Is there any chance you can bring them by tomorrow morning?

ItsFundy: Yeah, that works!!

The_Eret: Alright! I’ll be at the front castle gate then tomorrow morning, waiting for you :)

ItsFundy: Got it!! Have a good night, Eret!! See you tomorrow!!

The_Eret: Goodnight, Fundy. :)

Fundy smiled as he set his communicator down on the table, closing his eyes and letting out a yawn. He double checked the chest he had set down in his home, making sure all of the flowers that he had collected for Eret were there. Even though he was getting tired, he wondered if maybe, he should start making the flowers into dye now, to save his royal friend from doing as much work. He picked out an allium from the chest, before hearing a familiar noise.

Buzz! Buzz!

“Eret is still messaging me?” The fox thought to himself, walking over and picking up the communicator again.

The_Eret: Oh I forgot to mention one thing!

The_Eret: So I’ve been working on a new defense mechanism over the past few days to keep out intruders and any hostile mobs. It should be off by the time you get here, but if you arrive early, just message me and I’ll turn it off before coming outside

ItsFundy: A defense mechanism? What kind is it??

The_Eret: You’ll know what it is when you see it :)

Fundy squinted at the screen of his communicator, unsure if he was reading right or too tired to read that correctly. A defense mechanism? Even stranger, one that he would know when he saw it? That was…certainly a weird thing to describe.

ItsFundy: Alright, got it

ItsFundy: Have a good night!

He turned off his communicator, setting it back down on the table where he initially placed it. He was low-key tempted to arrive earlier than he planned to, so that he could see whatever this “defense mechanism” was. However, Fundy decided against it. It had been a long day for him, and he wanted to get some well deserved rest.

The morning soon came, and Fundy awoke as he felt Yogurt’s fuzzy white face muzzle up against his own. He smiled softly, giving the other small chin scratches as dawn still bled through the curtains. After getting dressed, making the flowers he had into dyes, and separating the dyes into bags so they wouldn’t mix together while in the chest, he was ready to go. He grabbed his communicator, typing a quick message.

ItsFundy: Leaving now, I’ll be there shortly!

Putting the communicator in his pocket, he picked up the chest of dyes, said goodbye to Yogurt, and headed out the door.

The walk to Eret’s castle was…longer than he had hoped. Quite tiring, honestly. He wished he had lived closer. However, he eventually made it, walking down the path to the royal building. However, Fundy found that the closer he walked towards it, the brighter it looked. Squinting his eyes, he looked up to see what was causing such a blind.

Well, this was new.

Fundy had always known that Eret liked beacons, and he had a full array to make the whole rainbow. But today, all of the light from his beacons was a light lavender shade. Not only that, there was a lot more light, meaning more beacons. So many beacons actually, that it made a line from wall to wall, meaning it would be impossible to waltz into the castle without walking through the light.

The fox approached the wall of light curiously. This was very likely the new defense mechanism that Eret had mentioned. But…what would happen if he went through it? Would he get hurt? Poisoned? Electrocuted? Would it trigger an opening gate that would release a bunch of vicious dogs?? Fundy didn’t want to think of the answer. So, instead, he pulled out the communicator he held once more.

ItsFundy: Hey, I’m here

ItsFundy: I think I found your defense thing, and it appears to still be on. Should I just wait here for you to turn it off?

Fundy sat on the ground, facing away from the light, as looking at it for too long might just blind him. He didn’t know if anyone else was awake right now, and he didn’t want to disturb anyone. He sent Eret another few messages, growing impatient.

ItsFundy: Hello????

ItsFundy: Erettttt

ItsFundy: Are you awake???????

Ten minutes had passed, and still no Eret. Fundy decided to turn around, squinting as he faced the wall of light, stepping forward. Curious, he reached his paw out to feel a ray of light, sticking it in for a couple of seconds before pulling away.

“…Nothing happened.” He mumbled to himself. If anything, it just left a small, tingling feeling on his paw, that he was easily able to rub away. With a newfound sense of confidence, Fundy grabbed the chest of dyes from off of the ground, holding it with both hands. If nothing was happening to him with these beacons, than what was he so afraid of? Taking a deep breath, Fundy closed his eyes, stepping through the wall of light.

When he opened his eyes back up, it was like nothing had ever happened. That tingle that he felt in his paw wasn’t even there, absent everywhere on his body. Fundy let out a sigh of relief, setting the chest down on the ground.

As he looked around, he noticed that one mob managed to sneak past Eret’s defenses… a spider. A relatively small spider, probably the size of a house cat, seemingly as unbothered as Fundy was. The two made eye contact, and it started to creep towards him on all eight legs. Fundy started to back away, reaching for the sword in his hilt.

However, the unexpected happened next.

Fundy started to feel that strange tingling again that he had first felt in his paw. But this time, it was near the bottom of his legs. Whatever it was, it was enough to knock the fox over, and he crashed to the ground. It was a bit scary, honestly. He didn’t know what was happening as he continued to back away from the spider, hoping not to take any damage. But, when he thought things couldn’t get stranger, he was proven wrong.

The feeling started to leave the bottom of his legs and go up to his knees, swirling around the caps of them and underneath them. It stayed there, and then he felt more of the tingle move to his thighs. And then, the feeling started to change. It became lighter… it felt like there was a tingling feeling resting on his thighs, under his knees, and on his kneecaps. And suddenly, the tingle picked back up again, but it was different. It felt like invisible fingers, lightly trailing all over Fundy’s legs, and the young fox’s eyes widened in horror as he made another observation.

It tickled.

It tickled really fucking badly.

Fundy slapped a paw over his mouth, starting to hear his own muffled giggles start to pour out. One by one, he was able to detect each and every move that the sensation in his body decided to move to. He felt buzzing all over his thighs, as well as what felt like invisible, skittering fingers below his knees and above his kneecaps. He squeaked, kicking his legs to attempt to get rid of the feeling, and now holding both paws over his mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the spider tilt it’s head, as if it too, didn’t know what was happening. It started to creep forward towards the wriggling fox, getting up close and looking at him. He watched the spider curiously, hoping it would be friendly. It creeped forward, then nuzzled it’s head against the soft fur in Fundy’s neck, which made him squeal.

“WahaHAIT- noHoHOHO! Dohohon’t dohoho thAHAHAT!” Fundy moved his hands to lightly push the spider’s head away from his neck, his laughter finally flowing free. He didn’t want to hurt the spider by pushing it away, but at the same time, he couldn’t handle the nuzzling feeling in his neck. And just like magic, the feeling in his legs started to appear on his neck, making everything more unbearable than it already had been.

He tried his best to squirm away, but it didn’t work. No matter how much he moved, the feeling wouldn’t leave anywhere on his body. He could feel fluttering fingers on his neck, and was now starting to feel light tracing along his ears. Those touches felt rather nice, and if it weren’t for the ticklish spider nuzzles, he would have melted right into the touches. Fundy started to feel tingles and buzzes on his ribs, making him once again squeal with laughter.

“EhEHErehet! SohoHOMeohone!! HehEHELP MEHEHE!!” He called out, hoping someone would be around to help him out of this situation. But for now, he was forced to lay there and take the tingles.

Fundy couldn’t tell you how long he had laid there for. It felt like forever, when in reality, it had been about five minutes with no changes in the tingles and buzzes. He was a bit tired tired out, his squeals and shrieks from before now reduced to light giggling.

“…Shit.”

Fundy turned his head to see the king of the land, Eret, just having opened the front gate, then quickly turning around and heading inside. On the wall inside the castle, Fundy caught a glimpse of a wall of levers that hadn’t been there the last time he visited. Eret flipped a switch before turning around, quickly walking towards his friend, shooing the spider away from him and watching it creep away.

“Fundy, I am so sorry.” Eret sighed, sitting himself down next to the giggly fox. “There was supposed to be a clock mechanic in my defense mechanism that would make it turn off in the morning, but I think I fucked up the redstone while working on it. I’ll have to get that fixed on my own time…”

“Yehehahah, yehehah. Yohou’re fihihine.” Fundy giggled, practically breathless.

“Speaking of my defense mechanism, I see that you found it.” Eret looked towards the lights from his beacons, which were now back to their normal, rainbow pattern. “And…I see that it worked. Curiosity killed the cat. Or, well, the fox, in this case.”

The fox groaned, hating that he could hear the smirk in Eret’s voice. “Oh, shuhut ihit.” He snapped, giggles still pouring out of his mouth like a waterfall.

“Hopefully, you didn’t get too wrecked while I overslept a little.” Eret chuckled, lightly scratching at Fundy’s stomach. What he didn’t expect was for Fundy to suddenly squeal and push his hands away.

“EhEHERET!” He clutched onto his stomach, blocking him from being able to continue.

“Hm?” The king looked at the fox with a puzzled expression, before he remembered something, a smile gracing his lips. “Ah, right! So, Fundy. How these lights work is that they send ticklish shockwaves throughout whatever part of your body touched it, for a certain period of time. By the looks of it, you put your whole body through, meaning that the effects would last for about fifteen minutes, and that it should wear off of you in a few. However, one thing is that when you’re under the effects of the beacon and you’re touched… it amplifies the effects of the shockwaves.”

As if on cue, Fundy could feel the buzzing in his body start to spread out and creep towards his stomach. The feeling was light and tingly, and by looking at Eret’s smug grin, he could tell that he would have quite a bit of breath to catch after this.

“W-Wahahaihit! Nohoho! Nonononono…” Fundy whimpered. He didn’t even know who he was pleading to, and he could feel a blush on his face he heard the king’s amused laughter. Before he could blink, he saw Eret’s hand race to his stomach, scribbling all over, and the tingly feeling that was already there suddenly skyrocketed in effectiveness. Fundy shrieked, trying to squirm away from Eret’s hand.

“EHEHEHEHAHA- EHEHEREHET! THAHAHAT MAHAHAKES IHIHIT SOHOHO MUHUHUCH WOHOHORSE!!” He cackled, his body quivering as he felt tingles all over his body.

“Oh, really? Well, I could switch to this instead!” Eret leaned down to give Fundy a raspberry, which only made him laugh harder. “Awww, is that better?”

“IHIHIHIT’S NOHOHOHOT!”

The king couldn’t help but laugh along with his friend. “Ahahaw, are you a little ticklish, Fundy? Can you not handle some little tummy scribbles?” He teased, smirking as he saw his friend’s face go bright red.

For the last couple minutes of Fundy’s tickley torture, Eret skittered his fingers, made claws with his hands, peppered raspberries here and there, squeezed up and down, and spilled teases into Fundy’s ears as if they were the new gossip. Once finished, Fundy was a smiling, giggling mess on the ground, curled up in a ball.

“Your tail was wagging that whole time, by the way.” Eret laughed. Fundy only groaned, but couldn’t stay mad at his friend for long. Once he regained his composure, he stood up, dusting the dirt off of his jacket from rolling around in the grass.

“I turned all of the flowers into dye for you, by the way. They’re all in that chest.” He nodded, pointing to the chest on the ground.

“You did?” Eret’s eyebrows raised up. “Fundy, you didn’t have to do that, bud.”

“What can I say? It’s what friends are for! Anyway, they’re all in the chest, take a look!”

Eret did as Fundy suggested, opening the chest and digging through. He had even separated dyes into separate bags as well? He was quite impressed, he wouldn’t lie. However, it wasn’t long until his heart dropped when he heard a familiar sound.

BZZZZZZT!

He looked towards the beacons on his right, which were now back to their light lavender color. He turned towards the open castle door. Fundy had flipped up a switch, cracking his knuckles as he walked towards his friend.

“Wahait, Fundy. Let’s talk about this.” Eret stood up and started to back away, before he was backed up against the wall of light.

“Aww, what’s wrong, Eret? Are you scared of just a little bit of tickling? It can’t be that bad.” Fundy said sarcastically, a wide grin on his face.

Eret looked around, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of this scot free. However, he did have one idea. The king quickly grabbed Fundy’s wrist and leaned back, pulling both of them so that their whole bodies passed through the light of the beacons. They both landed on the ground, and Fundy realized what was about to happen to him.

“Eret! What was that for?!” He asked, watching as his friend laughed softly.

“What?! I wasn’t just going to let you do this to me and have it be one sided!” Eret laughed as Fundy’s ears dropped down.

“…Oh, you are so asking for this.” The fox smirked, moving towards Eret and scribbling at his stomach. The king let out a surprised yell, laughing and trying to push his hands away. It wasn’t until he reached out and squeezed Fundy’s side that he made him squeak and draw back. The two glared at each other, mischievous intent in their eyes, knowing that they were thinking the same thing.

If they were going to be laughing because of the effects of the beacons, they were going to be sure of the fact that the other person would be laughing harder than the other.

And that day, on the grounds of Eret’s castle, a battle commenced, and it was more giggly than any other battle that had ever taken place.

#dawn writes #lee!fundy #ler!eret #c!fundy #c!eret #dsmp tickle #mcytickle month #this was honestly a little rushed but i still like how it turned out #🦊 fundy: the champion #👑 eret: eyeless monarchy

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

What is Ro thinking right now? -𓆙

      Virgil had just gotten done brushing his hair when they heard the commotion outside the Manor.

      Ainsliee squeaks in surprise. She turns to Virgil, boiling over with excitement, gleefully translating the message he had already guessed;

      “Daddy’s back! He’s calling for us!!”

      She grins and rushes over to Virgil, pulling his wrist and dragging him up from his seat. Virgil huffs in annoyance — not at her, of course, but at the bear’s continued barking — and waves his hand,

      “Go on to him, then. But be careful, he’s still dangerous!”

      Without a word of response, Annie dashes away. He doesn’t even think she was listening.

      Virgil sighs, shaking his head. He trusts the Beast spirit not to hurt her, even with it’s unreasonable strength; After how careful the bear had been with him about an hour before, there’s no way he won’t show the same gentleness with his own cub…

      The more cautious parts of Virgil can still imagine her rushing him too quickly and getting crushed on accident, though, so he knows he can’t linger long.

      Virgil stands up to get dressed, still not excited to see his friends again. His stomach churns at the possibilities as he meanders towards a closet, silently hoping Lolth would just strike him down right now so he wouldn’t have to talk to them.

      He just knows they’ll be angry, he feels it in his bones — and even if they aren’t, it will certainly be awkward, and that’s just as bad! 

      (Better to be the first to anger, so you might lead the conversation, Virgil reminds himself as he wallows in dread. He won’t even have to fake his ire if any of them come back injured, which he already knows is unavoidable. Aside from his desire to keep them all unharmed, he really doesn’t want to be owing any more favors…)

      (And even more besides, if he could be petty, Virgil doesn’t want to go back outside. It’s cold and windy tonight, his hair is still damp, his limbs are still sore, his mom has his armor, and he doesn't want to put clothes back on, damnit.)

      Another resounding roar thunders through the night air, and then Virgil feels the entire tree-tower tremble with vibrations.

      Fully realizing that this dire bear is willing to climb the place and rip it open to find him, Virgil grabs the nearest warm-looking robe. He hastily slips it on over his bandages (and quiver belt, which he had already been wearing) as he makes his way out of the Manor.

      ~~~

      Logan watches Roman pace back and forth around the trees, in front of the spiraling stairway that leads up into the complex. He’s been incessantly huffing and stomping around like a petulant child, and Logan has no idea what to say to make him stop; He's been trying ever since the city was in sight.

      Janus and Remus are very pointedly not helping, with Janus giving Logan a meaner side-eye the longer the wailing continues, and Remus yelling back at Roman for no other reason than to join in being loud.

      Patton has less fear of the gigantic, angry animal, approaching the groaning beast and patting a hand on his paw,

      “Aww, c’mon now, Roman. We just got here! Give them a minute to come down,” Patton soothes in a soft voice, “Not everyone is as fast as a giant bear!”

      Roman looks down at him, acknowledging his presence, but he either didn’t understand Patton’s words or wholeheartedly doesn’t care. He softly shakes his paw to scoot Patton away, then rears up on his back legs, raises his arms, then lurches all of his body weight forward and slams into the trunk of the massive tree.

      It doesn’t visibly shudder at his attack — even at his size, these great home-trees of the Faewild are many times wider around than a direbear, and won’t be knocked down so easily — but the intent is clear, and Logan worries someone as sensitive to vibrations as Virgil would be quite frightened. So, Logan quickly steps in, using a more stern tone this time (and his Universal Speech,)

      “That’s enough! You are being impatient,” Logan scolds, “They will come down soon enough. One of them is injured. They can take their time if they wish to.”

      An angry whine interrupts his last few words, but still, Roman backs away from the complex. He keeps growling and barking, but at least he’s not trying to break the damn thing down.

      Right on queue, a little blue girl comes flying down the stairs like a missile, grinning wildly. 

      Logan sighs in relief, happy to see her in good spirits after how they had left off. Roman seems to feel the same, finally quieting down his complaints. He drops his head down to meet her when she approaches, sniffing her as she reaches up to hug his muzzle. She squeezes him as best she can from there, giggling when he pushes down a little to nuzzle her.

      Practically tripping over herself with energy, Annie quickly pops up to bowl Patton over in a hug as well, giving Logan a wide grin over his shoulder as Patton squishes her close to his chest. Logan couldn’t suppress a smile in return, even if he wanted to.

      Virgil appears at the staircase then, looking comically ethereal. His long, re-dyed hair and wide-sleeved elven robe blow in the wind, his expression soft and quietly observant; He looks much more like the picture of a dark-elven noble you would find in a storybook than the grizzled soldier they’ve been travelling with. Even his eyes have changed color, with his sclera turned black and his pupils reflecting pale moonlight. 

      Virgil spots Patton and Annie embracing, and relaxes at the sight of them. Then he turns his gaze on the rest of the team, and his usual scowl returns, eyes glowing red to match. Logan is almost comforted by the familiarity. 

      “Olath ilhar, You’re hurt!” Virgil growls, rushing down to meet them. 

      Logan grumbles to himself over the hypocrisy of that statement, looking over the bandages absolutely covering Virgil’s arms, legs and abdomen.

      Roman shuffles his weight on his paws when he sees Virgil approach, but Virgil holds a hand out to him, scolding,

      “Oh don’t you even start! You will sit and wait your turn!”

      To Logan’s amazement, Roman whines and sits down on the grass, looking thoroughly reprimanded. 

      (Well that is just not fair.)

      Virgil looks over each of them in turn, searching for wounds. He circles Patton first, alarmed by the bandages across his middle. The careful prodding of his hands remains in stark contrast to the snarl in his voice,

      “I wouldn’t have let you go if I knew you were going to be so reckless!”

      “You hardly let us go at all. And, only two of us are injured.” Logan corrects as if he can’t help it, not taking Virgil’s returning glare so seriously.

      “Three of you! Roman is barely standing. And that’s more than half of your party, yutrit'zarreth!” Virgil hisses back. He moves over to Logan and stalks around him, searching him as well.

      “I’m fine, Virgil, I didn’t even get near the battle.” Logan protests, shrugging off Virgil’s patchwork cloak in order to return it.

      Virgil bares his teeth, still unconvinced. Logan sighs and sits through his examination, though he can’t help but complain to himself about how unfair Virgil is being. 

      Reminding himself of Virgil’s wounds, Logan uses their proximity to examine his bandages. They seem fairly well-wrapped, but it’s clear he hasn’t had any magical healing since they saw him last, and the bags under his eyes are dark even for Virgil. Every day it seems Virgil is stretching the limits of what levels of pain a person can ignore — by all accounts, he shouldn’t be conscious right now, much less standing.

      The last few battles, Logan had tried not to think too much about why Virgil does this, and even less about how he became able to. But, at this point, it’s become obvious that he has a very serious problem. Logan’s going to have to do something if he doesn’t want Virgil to drive himself into the grave...

      While he lets himself worry, Logan also notices the belt of Virgil’s quiver is strapped right over his bandages. 

      “Are you wearing that against your bare skin?” Logan scolds before he can stop himself, “What about the wound on your back?”

      “Don’t worry about it.” Virgil grumbles, though bringing it up seems to have scared him off. He snatches his cloak from Logan’s hands, pulling it in under his robe and fastening it so it lies between the robe and his skin, then slinks away, glowering. Logan can’t help but think he’s misstepped, somehow.

      Virgil has already moved on to look over Janus, who also tries to shoos the archer away, insisting he’s unharmed. Virgil hisses at him, too, but quickly moves on to Remus anyway.

      “Get inside and rest, all of you!” Virgil orders as he prowls around him, examining the bruises on his sides and back with gentle touches, “We’ve already lost too much travel time as it is, at this rate we’ll never make it to the Capital.”

      “What about Roman? I doubt he can fit inside, are we just going to leave him out here??” Patton whines. Virgil snaps a short, sharp laugh and glares at the bear,

      “Yeah, for all I care.”

      Roman groans at him, and Virgil snaps something back in Drowic. Logan doesn’t know if he can actually understand Virgil’s words or just the tone in which he’s saying them, but Roman is certainly respecting his orders more than he did Logan’s.

      (Logan quickly reminds himself that Virgil had once claimed to be a Ranger, and answers his own questions on the matter.)

      “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Logan advises carefully, taking note of Virgil’s mood. He keeps his tone as soothing as possible as he explains,

      “This is his first time shifting, we should stay to make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless. Besides, specifically as a bear, he will grow distressed if we leave his sight.”

      “You’re just saying that because you want to study him.” Janus supplies unhelpfully, apparently living to annoy him. Virgil doesn’t respond, though, and Logan can tell that his reasoning got through to him.

      Remus rolls his eyes, quickly growing bored of their debate,

      “Well, I’m certainly staying with Brother Bear over here, and the three of us have a long overdue heart-to-heart scheduled for, ehhh, right about now~!”

      Virgil pretends not to hear him while he studies the bruise on Remus’s back. Remus frowns at being ignored, turning on his heel and grabbing Virgil’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks,

      “Let’s have a little chat~! You aren’t getting out of this, slick.”

      Virgil glares holes into Remus’s chest, then turns away from him, hissing his discomfort the entire way. Janus looks similarly displeased, leveling an unfriendly look at Remus before taking his hand and following along.

      Logan and Patton follow the three of them, Annie holding Patton’s hand and instructing Roman to follow behind.

      Virgil leads them to a vacated barn, instructing Roman to lie down and wait. Annie nestles in next to his side, and Logan and Patton join her, watching Virgil lead Remus and Janus back out. Virgil keeps himself several paces ahead of them, looking like he might lose his nerve and bolt at any minute.

      Logan and Patton share an uneasy look, only able to speculate about what happened between Virgil and the odd duo…

      Janus doesn’t say a word, worried about getting himself in trouble before they even start the conversation. Virgil already seems tense, and Janus doesn’t ignore the way he positions himself closer to the Manor complex than to the barn.

      Once he’s satisfied they’re far enough away that Logan can’t eavesdrop, he very rigidly turns to face his two old friends, waiting for someone else to start.

      Janus and Virgil just glare in each other’s directions, both refusing to be the first to get vulnerable. (At least Virgil’s eyes are glowing faintly red, so Janus knows where they’re pointed, and where the hell Virgil is.)

      Remus stands with his hands on his hips and glances between them impassively, knowing it’s only a matter of time until one of them cracks.

      Despising the awkward silence more than anything else, Janus finally smirks,

      “Well, you look terrible.”

      “What are you doing here?” Virgil growls, shifting his gaze between the two. He still hasn’t looked either of them in the eye, just glaring at the grass by their feet like it’s done something to offend him; something it took many years to get Virgil to stop doing.

      “Oh, you know I just love the Faewild,” Janus grumbles, folding his arms defensively, “But, this time, I must confess we were mainly looking for you.”

      “Why?” Virgil growls even lower, his eyes turning even brighter red. Janus rolls his eyes at the aggressive display, 80% certain Virgil is simulating it this time.

      “What do you mean ‘why?’” Janus scoffs, quickly growing annoyed, “It’s been so long, I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost!” 

      Janus expected the cold reception, of course, but he’s never exactly been lauded for his temper. Remus steps in, knowing a spat is imminent if he doesn’t. He chuckles,

      “You fucked off in quite a rush, but you did say you were coming home eventually.”

      Virgil’s jaw drops.

      He quickly shakes himself out of it and resumes his defensive posture, but the damage was done; The same shocked look spreads to the other two. The three just stare each other down, all of them growing more confused by the minute. 

      Virgil breaks first, looking away at a suddenly very interesting rock as he mumbles,

      “…You expected me to come back?”

      Janus can immediately read the implication under the words; the question Virgil is afraid to ask. He feels his chest constrict a little at the thought, too winded to keep up his usual snark. In all of the visions he had seen to prepare for this moment, Virgil had never reacted like this. Usually he ran, and often he was angry at them or scared of them, but never…dejected.

      “Darling, of course! How could you assume anything else?”

      “I don’t know,” Virgil huffs, shoulders raising up to his ears, “Maybe it was the huge fucking fight we had seconds before I ran off for two fucking years— Aren’t you mad?!”

      “No!” Janus and Remus shout at the same time, with varying levels of surprise and distress. Virgil’s still on the offensive, glaring at them.

      “Fuck off! I almost took your whole arm off, and then you leased that dweomer, and Remus lost it—”

      “That’s not the first time we each went a little crazy, Virgil.” Janus shakes his head, subtly motioning down to his ankle,

      “That’s part of the reason we’ve stuck together for so long, remember?” 

      Virgil smiles a little at the reference, an inside joke between the three of them he thankfully hasn’t forgotten. Still, he seems reluctant.

      He turns a bit towards them now, though he’s started picking at his nails, like he does when he’s really nervous. His eyes are wide and startled, but he still won’t look up,

      “That time was… different. Something happened. I think I…” He shakes his head, steadying his voice before he continues, 

      “No, I know it this time. I’m not going crazy, something cursed me in that cave! All I remember is us knocking over some altar with a crystal on it, and now I can do magic on the surface?! And I got all paranoid about every little move, and I tried to run off for good!”

      “It wasn’t a curse. At least, I don’t think so.” Janus sighs, looking down at his hand, which is now covered in dragon-like scales under his glove. “And it wasn’t just you, either.”

      Remus grins, focusing on drawing forward that strange energy he now houses. He holds out his hand, letting Virgil watch as he conjures the usual smoke effects he’s always been able to summon, now along with some unusual yellow lightning flashing within.

     “Me and Deedee also got some cool new powers~! And some other weird stuff, too!”

      Virgil slowly creeps forward to get a better look, still apparently deciding whether he should be afraid or angry. Very slowly, he reaches up and lays one of his hands on Remus’s, then raises the other. Janus and Remus watch as Virgil’s eyes glow blue, and a cluster of lightning grows out of his skin, dancing around his fingers. A moment later, both magic effects fizzle out with a sharp crackling sound.

      “Where did you learn that?” Janus hums, mildly impressed, though he already knows the answer. Virgil shrugs, looking back towards the barn,

      “Logan’s been teaching me how to control it. I’m still not great at it yet, but I haven’t accidentally killed anyone in several days.” Virgil sighs. He looks around at his friends, finally looking them in the eyes, though he still looks a bit like a frightened animal. Slowly, he adds,

      “I still don’t know how I feel about this,” He admits, then sends a short glance at Remus, “But, you and your brother have to do something together in town, right? So… We’re all going in the same direction, anyway.” 

      “And you’re set on these new guys?” Janus sighs, trying not to sound disappointed. Virgil shrugs.

      “I don’t think I can leave them yet. I’m making progress, but I still need Logan’s help…” Virgil looks back at the barn, an annoyed grumble returning to his tone, 

      “And, these three are kind of pathetic. I really don’t think they’ll make it in one piece without us, anyway.”

      Janus chuckles in agreement, not at all surprised. Remus flips his hair with a smile,

      “Oh, so there’s an ‘us’ now~?”

      Before Virgil can even blush at the slip, Remus is laughing again,

      “Well then, it can’t be helped~ Looks like the three of us are coming with them!”

      “Of course.” Janus nods, “As much as it pains me to waste my time with such irksome people, it would be convenient for us to travel together. And, according to Logan, you need a sorcerer’s help with the whole ‘training’ thing.”

     (Janus avoids adding a snarky remark about how “that also proves that you never should have left to begin with,” though it is difficult.)

      “I’d rather it be you then some other high class know-it-all I haven’t met. One is enough.” Virgil admits, though he can’t resist rolling his eyes at Janus’s snark.

      Now, a bit of a smirk has returned to Virgil’s face. He looks between the two again, blushing slightly and fiddling with his hands again to distract from his brain. Virgil himself is unsure whether he’s more afraid or hopeful. Not that he would ever admit to the latter.

      “So… you really aren’t mad?”

      “No, dear. If any of us have a right to be, it’s you.” Janus sighs. Virgil whines in complaint,

      “But— Two years is a long time for you, you can’t just let me get away with that!”

      “I was busy with something, anyway, so it’s no big deal~” Janus sighs, not quite willing to admit to himself whether or not it’s a lie. To silence Virgil’s arguing he holds one hand out to Virgil, and focuses on melting away just that little section of his glamour.

      Green and yellow scales are revealed all along his hand and wrist, and Virgil gasps for a moment, reaching over to touch them. The look he gives Janus then is devastating, the last of the fear easing out of his shoulders as the memory of that night washes over him.

      “This is what I was scared of?” Virgil frowns, sounding more than a little disappointed in himself, “Your scales are spreading?”

      “There’s much more to it than that,” Janus quickly corrects him, letting the phrase carry a lot of weight for him, “But we can get into that when you’re awake enough to process a more detailed conversation.”

      “I thought you were just born with them. Are you supposed to grow more?”

      “No, I’m not. Like Remus said, you aren’t the only one who was affected.” Janus shrugs, “We both have physical mutations, though not quite like your scars. Remus already mentioned what happened to his wings, didn’t he?”

      Virgil turns to him expectantly. Remus holds his hands behind his back and grins,

      “Ooooh no, I’m saving that surprise for something special. After all, now Roman’s here to see ‘em too, and you know I can’t resist dramatic timing~”

      “Before you keep insisting you’re too dangerous to congregate around,” Janus muses lightly before Virgil can say another word, “You’re not the only one with new temporal magic.”

      Janus takes a tiny amount of pleasure in the momentary horror on Virgil’s face. As a treat.

      “Oh, don’t get all worked up, my love~” Janus teases, patting Virgil’s arm, “I’m not able to affect time in any real sense, I can only predict the future. That’s how we were able to track you somewhat reliably.”

      “That’s terrifying.” Virgil grumbles, “Are you guys having bursts like mine??”

      “Nope. Aside from the visions, which can sneak up on me at times, I’m perfectly in control of my magic.” Janus smirks, “Remus has been having a similar problem to yours, when he gets excited. Not nearly as large-scale, though it can occasionally be dangerous.”

      “And I revel in the chaos of it, so no skin off my back~!” Remus grins. 

      They fall into silence again, though it’s a bit more comfortable now. Virgil shuffles from foot to foot, not quite sure how to end the conversation, or disperse the lingering doubts and awkwardness hanging between them.

      (As much as Virgil can try and dismiss his old feelings as “part of the Madness Roman cured,” there’s still a lot about that night that still doesn’t feel right in Virgil’s gut, and he doesn’t know how long he wants to wait for a longer explanation.)

      (And, though their parting altercation has been mostly dismissed, it’s still been two years since he saw them last. Virgil knows how much non-elves can change in that time. What if even now, with everything said and done, they still can’t go back to the way they were before? What if they’re different now, and they don’t get along as well as they used to? Should he really want to, anyway??)

      Sensing his worries and eager to put them to rest, Janus peels his other glove off as well and steps forward, very gently taking Virgil’s hands.

      “Are you angry?” He asks, softly and genuinely. 

      “You can be upset, Virgil. A lot has happened, it’s okay if you need time.” Janus sends a glance in Remus’s direction, prodding him to help. Remus gives Virgil one of his ‘dazzling’ grins, trying to reassure him that they don’t hold any grudges.

      Virgil relishes the familiar feeling of Janus’s hand, shoving aside his remaining worries. He’ll deal with his lingering doubts later.

      (Their arrival has added an incredible number of new problems to his plate, but he’s frazzled and exhausted. His best friends are back, and they don’t hate him. At least for tonight, that will be enough; God knows he has enough to worry about right now, anyway.)

      Virgil shakes his head, voice still sore from earlier that day, and nearly boneless with exhaustion. Janus and Remus share a knowing look, well aware Virgil is hiding something but too overwhelmed to get into it now. 

      “Let’s just head back in and rest for tonight.” Virgil sighs, brushing his hair behind his ear. He turns to Janus, frowning,

      “In the morning, you’re going to have to tell them about the sorcery thing. And, probably also about being a snake. Logan never leaves it be at one question.”

      “Ugh! You people won’t let me keep any of my secrets!” Janus complains, folding his arms. He already knew he would need to come clean, but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it. He tilts his chin up in an expression of faux-contempt, tone mocking,

      “Fine, but only if you promise to actually sleep tonight. I wasn’t kidding earlier, you look like shit.”

      “That’s not fair, someone has to keep watch!”

      “We have a twenty-foot bear in there, who is going to sneak up on that? You’re being ridiculous.”

      “But what about when Roman changes back in the morning? Someone has to be awake to help him!”

      “I will, then!” Remus scoffs, “I’m his brother, he’s not gonna want anyone else to see him naked. Besides, we all know damn well you’re going to wake up the second anyone moves, hypersensitive ass.” 

      “Oh, shit.” Virgil hums, “We should pick him up some clothes before we head back in…”

      “Ooooh, can I pick them out~?” Remus grins evilly. Virgil slaps his arm, trying not to laugh,

      “No, leave him alone! He’s probably gonna be scared at first. You can bully him later.”

      “You’re such a buzzkill! I don’t remember you being this lame.”

      “Say that again when I have the energy to kick your ass.”

      They playfully shove and bat at each other the whole way up the stairs, being careful of each other’s wounds while threatening to throw the other off the balcony. At the same time, they move slowly, considerate of Janus’s leg and eyesight. 

      Janus watches them and suppresses a fond smile, his cold heart warming at how quickly they’ve started to ease back into their usual dynamic...

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Ask 119     (( @zozomind​​ , @renee-niles​​ ))

Previous

Next

Game Start

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Logan, Patton, Remus, Janus, Annie, Virgil, and…Roman?

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You have reached the end of Level 2!

Begin Level 3: The Past is Never Dead 

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You can now save your first File in Level 3 with the Game Menu!

Save Files:

File A.1: Communication      ?

File B.2: The Heart of the Matter      ?

File B.3: Angel’s Epithet      ?

File B.4: Pack Tactics      ?

File B.5: Lay Bear the Breast      ?

File B.6: Lay Bare the Beast      ?  

File B.7: Moonlight Dancers      ?

[ !!! WARNING: Save File Limit Breached! ]

[ Which file will you DELETE? ]

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…What a curious title. I wonder what it could mean…

...And it looks like you’ve unlocked something new in the Game Menu!

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(( UPDATED: If you missed the Patreon/Kofi announcement! ))

#please tell me if i need to tag anything else! #lets roll #save point #ttrpgau art #ask rpg sanders sides #asks open #sanders sides rpg au #Roman the Werebear #long post #long answer #game menu #renee-niles #zozomind

[missdawnandherdusk]

Through My Eyes

Draco X Hufflepuff!Scamander!Reader

Request: @cat-moon: draco malfoy x scamander reader 

A/n: Okay y’all time to get serious for a moment. Newt Scamander is on the ASD spectrum, and it is hereditary, and therefore so is his granddaughter. But it is not just because it is hereditary that I am creating her this way, but also because life on the ASD spectrum is quite remarkable and it really is a different world experienced, being there myself. Autistic women show the signs in much different ways than males do because of a thing called masking and social behavior that is expected of women in society. I wrote a paper on it after getting my own diagnosis so, I know a bit from research and experience. Our reader is still as lovely as ever and nothing written is done from malicious intent nor ignorance. I am alright with writing her this way because I have the authority to, otherwise I wouldn’t dare to. I love you all so much and i’d love to know your thoughts!

“You’re not supposed to be here,” My voice was soft.

“I can be wherever I bloody well please,” Draco muttered slinging his bag down onto the chair.

“No,” I pressed. “You’re supposed to be in study hall. Only Ms. Pince and I are in here during this hour. You’re not supposed to be here,”

“Don’t get so bent out,” He scoffed. “I thought you Hufflepuffs were supposed to be friendly.”

“You don’t know anything about the world around you,” I murmured, closing my book, and tucking it into my bag. I held my tongue before snapping at him to not return tomorrow.

I stormed out of the library, thrumming my fingers on the strap of my bag, humming a comforting melody. It calmed my senses so that I could plan my next move. One option was going to my dorm, but I’d get there only having to turn back to go to class again. I could go to class early and continue to work, but I didn’t want to be asked questions about why I was early. There was only twenty minutes until my next class. Then it occurred to me, I wouldn’t be in a classroom for my next class, instead outside with Hagrid. A smile touched my lips as I stopped in the hall and changed my direction heading to the outdoors and toward Hagrid’s Hut.

Letting my fingers run through the soft grass that rose to about my waist, I strolled through the grounds, going the long way to Hagrid’s, humming all the while.

“Well, you’re ‘ere early,” Hagrid grinned. I nodded in response, my eyes flitting to the page that he had opened in our old textbook as he continued to speak. “Well, just so ‘appens that we takin’ a page from your granfather’s book ‘ere.”

“Hippogriff,” I read from the page. “Do you really have one here!?”

“She’s ou’ back, ‘ome on. Meet Buckbeak,” Hagrid led me outside the hut and sure enough there was the fantastic beast, preening her feathers. “Now you just gotta... well yeah,”

He stopped trying to instruct me as I bowed to the creature, waiting for her to bow in return. When she did, with slow and precise movements, I made me way toward her, stretching out my hand, not breaking eye contact. The hippogriff followed the fluttering of my fingers as I drew near until she was entranced enough that she allowed me to stroke her muzzle.

“She ‘eally likes you,” Hagrid exclaimed. “You sure are your granfather’s kid,” I paid him no mind as I caressed the beast’s head as she nuzzled into my hand.

I backed away, Buckbeak chittering annoyed as I parted from her. I signaled for her to be quiet and she lowered her head and complied. The class slowly arrived, and Luna took her place by my side, saying a soft hello but not much else. I liked Luna. She was like me. A bit different but she knew about the world around us. It was a comfort to not be alone.

It was the next few days that I was called into Professor Sprouts office. When she saw the panic on my face, she smiled and assured me that I was not in trouble and apologized for ruining my schedule. I took a seat at a chair in front of her desk.

I jumped when the door opened behind us.

“What’s she doing here?” I heard his voice.

“Professor!” I interjected.

“Enough,” Snape and Sprout said on cue. Sprout continued. “Miss Y/n, you are the best student that we have in Care for Mythical Creatures,”

“And My. Malfoy, you seem to be failing the subject,” Snape finished.

“The bloody chicken attacked me!” Draco argued back, standing abruptly.

“Hippogriff,” I corrected. “And her name is Buckbeak,”

“I really don’t give—”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Sprout scolded. “You should care because without the aid of Miss Y/n, you are going to fail the class, so I suggest you be nicer to her,”

“You want me to...” I glanced at her before looking down at my lap and tapping my fingers in an absentminded repetitive pattern.

“If you two are quite finished,” Snape sighed. “Miss Y/n, you have full authority on teaching Mr. Malfoy, and you are to assess his knowledge,”

“You mean she—no!” Draco shouted again.

“It is final. From Dumbledore himself,” Sprout glared Draco down, with such an affect that Draco took a seat, silently sulking.

We were dismissed and I paused in the doorway. Draco noticed and looked to me, expectant. 

“Meet me at sunset outside Hagrid’s hut,” My eyes fixed on the Slytherin logo of his robe. “

Whatever,” He scoffed, taking off.

Oh, good lord, what was I just thrown into?

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

“This is ridiculous, I hope you know that” Draco hissed into my ear as I led him down to the outskirts of the forest, there Buckbeak waited for us.

I paid him no mind as I went to Buckbeak, bowing before her. She bowed and chittered happily to see me again, only pausing to puff her feathers at Draco in defense.

“He’s a friend,” I cooed softly, running my fingers over her silky feathers, close to burying my face in her heavenly soft feathers. “You know that don’t you?”

She chirped at me sulking. I beckoned Draco forward with my free hand.

“Bow,” I instructed. They both obliged. “See, was that so bad?” I smiled, keeping my eyes on Buckbeak but outstretching my hand to Draco.

When I felt the warmth of his hand in mine, I slowly pulled him forward, using my fingers to flutter his, to keep Buckbeak interested. My fingers brushed against her smooth beak and I pressed Draco’s hand against her beak, placing my hand over his. I could hear his anxious breathing as he drew near.

“She’s not going to hurt you,” I looked to him and smiled. “Again, anyway,” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” His voice shook with fear.

“Yes?” I let out a soft laugh. “She’s not dangerous, if you know how to approach her,”

He was a lot closer in proximity than I had originally thought. Buckbeak sensed my agitation and shook out her feathers. I cage her a kind look and she backed down. My hand slid down her neck, smoothing her ruffled feathers.

“You or Buckbeak?” I heard him mutter.

“Would you like to go for a ride Mr. Malfoy?” I looked over to him his silver eyes shining in the twilight.

“Are... are you sure that’s safe?” He gaped at me. Buckbeak shifted from foot to foot.

“Draco, she’s going to sense that you’re unsteady, if you want her to be calm you need to remain calm and trust her,” I instructed. “She’s not a dumb creature, she’s keenly smart with a range of sensitive emotions,”

“She’s a...” Draco started to insult but stopped with a chirp from Buckbeak. “Okay, sure. Intelligent creature,”

Buckbeak chittered a laugh, causing Draco to jump about a foot back, toward me.

“She’s just laughing at you Draco,” I soothed, finding his hand, and placing it back in Buckbeak’s shoulder, again pressing my hand over his.

“She’s laughing?” He dismayed. “That’s brilliant. I’m being laughed at by a beast,”

“Would you rather be laughed at by a girl?” I challenged, smiling. “Now come on, try to see the world you live in and let’s have a ride, then you can officially pass Care of Mythical Creatures,”

“And you’re sure there’s not some Niffler that I can—”

“Come on Draco,” Buckbeak bowed allowing me to climb up, holding my hand out to him. “Don’t you want to see what Potter saw?”

Something sparked in his eyes and he took my hand with fierce determination, settling behind me on Buckbeak’s back, his arms around my waist. Buckbeak chirped once more then stretched out her wings and took off.

Draco clung to me as we began to soar higher in the sky, and all I could do was laugh, feeling the rush of wind against my face and the feeling of freedom in my heart. There was nothing that could stop me when I was up here, in the clouds, just as the sun sank behind the hills with its final goodbye.

“This... this is incredible,” Draco breathed out, relaxing enough to declaw from me.

“There’s a lot of incredible things out there if you’re willing to let someone show you,” I noted, leaning back into him.

“About a world I don’t see?” He mused.

“Exactly,” Smiling I looked to the rising moon. “Your nose is so stuck in social behavior and hierarchies that you miss everything going on around you,”

“I can’t see them when I’m up here,” His candor was soft and intentional. “She truly is an amazing creature,”

“You should see a thunderbird,” I whispered, petting Buckbeak’s feathers gently. “My grandad took me to America once to see one. He was beautiful and the size of the astronomy tower. Flying over the desert... stretches of wilderness, and the never-ending horizon... the sunset colors...”

We were silent for a while as Buckbeak drifted back toward solid ground on the outskirts of the black lake. Draco hopped off and offered me his hand, aiding me in dismounting.

“You’ve been to America?” He asked thoughtfully as we walked along the castle grounds.

“I’ve been all over,” I smiled at the cobblestone under our feet. “I’m particularly fond of Greece, they have the best stories and creatures. Though they do have Sirens, so best be careful by the shores of Sicily.”

“You really like Mythical Creatures, don’t you?” The softness of his tone startled me.

“Yes,” my answer was gentle. “My grandfather knows so much... he’s been all over traveling, caring for them... learning. I just want to make him proud,”

“You got me on a Hippogriff. He should be plenty proud of you,” Draco nudged my shoulder as we walked.

“Thank you,” My cheeks flushed. “Also, consider yourself passing Care for Mythical Creatures,”

“Really? That’s it?” His shock caused my brow to furrow.

“Was that not enough? You only seemed opposed to Buckbeak and after tonight I don’t see an issue. Was I wrong somewhere else?”

“Uh, no. I just... tonight was nice. Seeing the world through your eyes... and I thought maybe...” Draco stumbled over his words.

“Maybe?” I prompted, butterflies fluttering in my chest, hopeful.

“I... never mind,” he sighed.

We stood at the top of the stairs, ready to part separate ways.

“Draco,” I called, and he turned to me a spark of something in his eyes. “...good night,”

He nodded and headed down the stairs as I ascended them wondering what went wrong between us.

The next few days weren’t out of the ordinary. I informed Sprout that Draco was just fine with caring for mythical creatures and all went back to normal. The old normal. But somehow that one night had caused a paradigm shift in me. I wanted the new normal. That had Draco in it.

Choosing the next best thing, I snuck out and made my way down to Hagrid��s to see Buckbeak when I heard a soft voice already coming from the back of the hut.

“I’m being stupid,” He muttered to Buckbeak. “This is stupid. I’m stupid,”

“Well, you are talking to a hippogriff,” I chimed in and Draco jumped about a foot back. Buckbeak bayed in agitation but after bowing to her she settled.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Draco hissed.

“Isn’t that my question for you?” I asked, stroking Buckbeak’s chin. “You’re normally a rule follower Mr. Malfoy,”

“Yeah well,” He toed the dirt and buried his fingers back in Buckbeak’s silvery feathers along we shoulder. “I missed her,”

Buckbeak nuzzles her head into my shoulder causing me to laugh.

“She missed you too,” I met his eyes, and though it only added onto the handful that I ever had, the silver in his blue eyes paralleled with the moonlight refracting off of Buckbeak’s feathers. My eyes quickly dropped as I worried my lip.

“Look, Y/n, you’re... and last night was...” Draco fumbled for his words.

“It’s okay,” My eyes didn’t waver from Buckbeak. “I know what you’re gonna say,” A small smile played at my lips.

“I don’t think you do,” Draco interrupted.

“I do know,” I refuted. “And I know I’m different. I know what others say about me. Even a few rumors from you. And it’s okay. It was one night.” Buckbeak thrummed a soft comfort as I stroked her muzzle. “I know I’m odd and I know I don’t belong,”

“Like I belong any more than you do,” Draco sighed. “The world you say you don’t belong in... the one that I’m trapped in. I don’t want to belong there. With their rules and expectations... I... I like it out here. I like it with you.”

I paused in my stroking of Buckbeak’s muzzle and peered at him.

“You see them? The rules? And you follow them?” I was deeply confused.

“Those rules keep me treading water. I would drown without them,” He sounded defeated

“It’s so... trivial.” I mused.

“And stupid,” a smile played at his lips before it fell.

“Maybe I misjudged you, Draco,” His eyes flashed to mine and I offered a smile. “Apparently, I know your mask very well... but if you want... I’d love to know who’s behind it,”

A smile dawned on his face. Like I had just given him the best news. The light in his eyes was undeniable happiness.

“You’re incredible,” He chuckled out, resting his hand over mine on Buckbeak.

And as it so happened, Buckbeak jostled, using her wing to shove Draco in my direction with such force that we both toppled to the ground. Neither of us were annoyed. Rather we laughed as I found myself pinned beneath Draco, staring at his grey eyes. My gaze quickly adverted.

“Hey,” He called softly, propping up on his elbows, still pinning me to the ground. “Look at me,”

“Draco,” I complained.

“Just look at me,” I heard the smile in his voice. I complied, meeting joy and comfort in those gossamer eyes. “Would you be mine?”

“Yes,”

.

masterlist

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more like this:

hufflepuff series

the serpent beneath

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[t4tdexter]

house of mirrors

2.5k word mlp fanfic. dont judge me >.>

summary: rarity and twilights visit to the crystal empire is more eventful then either had hoped. somethings wrong with the castle, and more importantly, somethings wrong with shining armor...

content warnings: fear of transphobia (no actual rtansphobia bc this is the colorful horses show)

Rarity held back a whinny of delight as she trotted off the train and into the crystal empire station. Everywhere she looked she was dazzled by gleaming crystals of every color refracting rainbows on every surface while somehow remaining the farthest thing from gaudy. Starting to feel faint from excitement, she leaned on twilight's shoulder as her eyes fluttered.

“Rarity come on!” The alicorn laughed as she helped her friend upright. “We’ve hardly been in the empire for a minute! Save your fainting for the ceremony.”

The white horse perked up immediately at the reminder of what she had come here for: she was to assist Cadence and Shining Armor in the preparations for the newborn princesses presentation to the public! She cantered in place with excitement, lifting twilight's luggage with her magic and running off to their suite in the castle with twilight hot on her heels.

The suite was spacious with generous decor in simple light colors. the main focal point of the suite was the giant bay windows which cast giant swathes of warm light across the room. upon closer inspection rarity was amazed to discover that the windows were made entirely of cut crystal rather than glass. the faint color of the gemstone created a slight cast on the light coming in, giving a view of the city below that was ever so slightly tinted. this realization recontextualized the furnishing in rarities mind: it wasn't dull and plain, but simply a blank canvas for whatever the crystal windows brought in. a strange method of decor indeed. or was it a response to the material conditions of living in a house of crystal?

When the two had almost settled into their apartment, they were startled from their rest by a brisk knock at the door.

“A summons for princess twilight sparkle,” a booming voice called from behind the door. “You are needed urgently by princess mi amore cadenza for matters concerning his highness the prince.”

Worry flooded the purple alicorns features. “Urgent? Then I guess I had better go now.” She magically gathered a few items into her saddlebag and gave a parting smile to her friend as she was rushed away by royal guards.

Shocked by the suddenness of it all, rarity let out a chuff and sat squarely on her quarters. Was shining armor alright? she wanted to put her anxieties to rest, but it was plainly obvious that she hadn't been invited. would the entire trip to the empire consist of her sitting alone in her room while twilight attended to all matters of actual importance?

Trying to shake the thought from her head, rarity got up and left her room to explore the castle. It truly was extravagant, with pillars of crystal stretching to the high vaulted ceilings spreading refractions of glittering iridescence that made the whole space seem somehow both extraordinary glamorous and warm and homey. Inspiration flooded her mind as she trotted the decadently decorated halls. She just couldn’t wait to get back to her studio and put this inspiration to good use.

She was halted in her exploration when her ears picked up familiar voices talking from behind an ajar door. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help but listen in...

"-i don't know what to do twilight, he hadn't seemed this off for years, and now flurry is here and hes completely absent!"

"i don't know cadence, he hasn't said anything in his letters-"

“- all I’m saying is maybe you could get through to him! He won’t talk to me, or anypony else here. you're my last hope. maybe hell listen to his best friend”

“i've never been able to help him in one of these episodes before. if he’s not ready to talk then confronting him will only make him more defensive.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take. I’m worried for my husband twilight.” Rarity leaned on the door to hear better as the princesses voice dropped, “please, if not for shining armor, or for me, then for flurry heart. She deserves to have a father who can dedicate himself to her, not one who’s so preoccupied that he can hardly look after her.”

There was a sigh, then rarity heard twilight speak “very well. I’ll do this for her. Maybe that will get through to my brother.”

Sudden approaching hoofsteps started rarity out of her reverie. She stumbled backwards just in time to miss the swinging door as twilight entered the hall. “Rarity? I thought you were still in the room? Oh well, I need your help anyway." She looked over her shoulder as if to make sure they were alone. "I think somethings wrong with my brother. It's possible that one of the unreformed changelings has taken his place to try too take advantage of the upcoming love boom from flurry hearts royal presentation."

Rarity was taken aback by her friends leap of logic. "Doesn't that seem like an extreme suspicion? Having a baby is stressful enough for normal ponies, I cant imagine what kind of pressure would be on a royal prince."

"I don't know rarity, after what happened at the wedding we can't be too careful. I hope its just nerves and parental stress, but we have to expect the worse if we want to be prepared to handle it."

rarity nodded. "alright, then let's find your brother."

The two ponies galloped down the halls in search of the princes chambers. the crystal walls seemed to burn with energy, the warm cast of light from earlier having turned harsh and almost too bright. rarity wondered absently if this was a product of the changing time of day or a trick of the mind. could the walls of a castle really know how somepony felt, and shine it back at them like a diamond mirror?

a distant commotion pricked the two mares ears. "this way!" twilight called as she rounded a corner, dashing after the sound with rarity at her side.

the two skidded to a stop when they reached an open doorway from which the sound seemed to emit. with a flick of her ear twilight motioned for rarity to follow her and the two cautiously made their way into the room. twilight emitted a small light from her horn, then lit the rooms lamp once she could find it on the wall. with the room lit rarity immediately got an impression of drabness and depression, the tightly draped windows letting in no light and the gemstone walls shining the same dim echo back and forth across the space, almost seeming to beg for the light to go out again.

twilight gestured with her chin to the curtained bed at the center of the room, grabbing one edge of the curtain with her magic and indicating for rarity to take hold of the other. once the unicorn had secured the curtain, twilight gave a sharp nod and both ponies tugged their curtain aside, revealing a stallion-sized lump that spectacularly failed to live up to either mares fearful imagination.

the blue-maned unicorn sat up at once, alarmed by the sudden intrusion. he seemed to calm down slightly when he recognized his sister, but he remained guarded. "twily? rarity? what are you two doing in my private chambers?"

"well to be fair," rarity gestured back at the entrance, "you did leave your door open."

"cadence must have done that when she left." shining armor gruffed. "that doesn't answer my question though: what are you doing here?"

twilight stepped forward with a cautious expression, ready to fight if this really was a changeling. "were just here to check up on you, see how youre handling the upcoming princess presentation" it was clear that twilight was being reserved with her supposed brother.

then, shining armors eyes met hers, and her suspicion evaporated. that peculiar sadness that had haunted her brother in her young filliehood, then she had thought he'd escaped when he found happiness in cadences arms, was burning hot tears from shining armors eyes. she had never seen a pain like that before or since. if there was anything twilight was certain of, it was that this pony was the same one she had known her whole life. but the question still lingered, was he the real shining?

completely without her permission, tears began to well in twilight's eyes. "oh shinning, whats happened to you?"

her brother choked on a sob. "I'm sorry twily, you were never supposed to see me like this. no one was. i should be able to hold it together for you... for cadence... for my daughter..."

"shining nopony wants you to hide any part of you! we want to know when you're hurting so we can help. i had thought you'd healed from whatever's causing this pain but it seems to be back and i wont let you hide it from me this time!" the purple alicorn sniffled as tears streaked down her muzzle. "please shining, tell me whats wrong."

The stallion nervously rubbed his hooves together and cast his gaze to the ground. "i don't even know where to start."

"the beginning," twilight proposed. "i want to know everything. you cant heal until you let your wounds be seen."

shining nodded and took a deep breath, "its just that, when you were a fillie, everyone expected me to be the perfect big brother, and i never measured up to that expectation. it was like being thrown into the ocean with no idea how to swim, and everypony kept insisting that i was a fish and i should know how, but i didn't. then in the royal guard it didn't matter how i felt as long as i followed orders and played the role, so that's what i did. i don't know if it actually quieted the pain or just forced me to ignore it, but for a few years i thought maybe i could live with it. cadence was the only pony i've ever met who could make that noise in my brain silent; with her it didn't matter if I wasn't brother enough fro you or stallion enough for the military. i was always enough for her, no questions asked. i was so happy when we got married that i could almost forget about that feeling, telling myself it was a phase i'd outgrown. but now with flurry heart, all that anxiety is back. its like no matter what i do ill never be able to be a good father for her. i love her more than anything, id do anything for her, but it isn't enough. i'm not enough." the white unicorns neck gave way as he succumbed to quiet sobs, his once proud chin quivering and brushing his chest.

"shining... i..." twilight was speechless. what could be said? her brothers pain went far beyond anything she knew how to mend. at that moment being the princess of friendship meant nothing; she couldn't even move herself to speak in the face of her first best friends deep sorrow.

"i hope im not overstepping here," a timid voice chimed in, startling both siblings as rarity cleared her throat. "but i think i may have an idea as to the source and solution of your distress."

"rarity?" shining choked, "how could you possibly know how i feel?"

the mare nervously flicked her mane with an idle hoof. "there's a lot you don't know about me." turning to twilight, she asked "would it be alright if the prince and i could have a moment alone?"

Twilight nodded and bowed out of the room, and the two remaining ponies listened to her hoofbeats echo down and again further down the labyrinthine crystal hallway, which now seemed to glitter coldly like a sterile knife where it once had gleamed so warmly. rarity shivered at the thought of living in a place like this, which could transform before your eyes depending only on ones own emotion. that was, she mused, the property of crystal. it created nothing, only reflecting what was cast onto it. in a dimly lit cave the finest diamond was often mistaken by novices for a common quartz, but at the heart of a kingdom built on a foundation of admiration it gleamed on every surface like the morning dew on a freshly budded rose. this castle wasn't a cold cage or a warm embrace, it was an endless hall of mirrors, each perfectly angled to show you the deepest darkest crevice of your heart.

"i understand why it tortures you to live here." rarity whispered. "each surface gleams to a pristine chrome finish, yet the face it reflects is fundamentally and inconceivably wrong."

shining armor appeared startled, "that's exactly how it feels. how do you know? is it that obvious how miserable i am?

the mare shook her head, "only to those who have felt the same misery. shining armor, i once lived the same life as you, albeit in a much more drab estate. I felt that at every turn i failed at the very task of existing as myself, my relationships suffered because it pained me to view myself as a part of them. mirrors became my enemy because i couldn't face the pony looking back at me. the stallion looking back at me."

a small gasp escaped the taller unicorns lips "what-"

"think about it shining," rarity pleaded shakily, " everything you cant stand to be: brother, father, soldier, prince. they all have one thing in common." tears welled in her eyes and choked her throat "you cant run from it shining. it never stops. you only make yourself more and more miserable. you can cover as many mirrors as you like but eventually you're going to look around and realize that you're still the same pony you hated, standing alone in complete darkness."

something clicked behind the other ponys eyes. "no, it cant be... what about cadence? flurry? twilight? i cant throw all of them away because i have some twisted dream of living as a-"

"-you're not sick shining. maybe a bit different, but there's nothing wrong with you. you'll find that the friends worth keeping don't care at all. they're suffering by watching you suffer; freeing yourself will only free them too."

"i have no idea where to even start though. aren't i a bit too old for this?" shinings eyes were wide and scared.

"i would love to personally see to all the aesthetic changes you wish for, if you'll have me. you really couldn't ask for a more qualified personal stylist. and as for the social shift, you've got the princesses of love and friendship in your corner."

"but that's just it: they're not in my corner. they may as well be on the other side of equestria, or a gaping cavern. how can i even know that they'll still see me as me?"

"i know how scary it is, especially in the early days, but i can personally account for twilights acceptance. and as for cadence, i'm pretty sure they don't go around giving titles like the princess of love to ponies who cant accept others for something so harmless as gender." her smile faded and her face grew a bit serious "i can be there with you if you want. like i said, i know how scary it is." she placed a hoof on top of the other mares own.

She smiled. "I think id like that."

#mlp fanfic #mlp fanfiction #rarity #twilight sparkle #shining armor #princess cadence #mlp trans #trans shining armor #transfem shining armor