thatrcooper | Entries tagged with beings in love

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Alpha Arthur and Omega Bertie, as taken from a chat with @vashti-lives

I am now imagining Bertie like, Of course I’m an omega, darling. I imagine the dragon scent has thrown your senses for a loop.
And Arthur like, but you’re so….
Bertie just, Tut. Don’t be such a traditionalist. An omega protectiveness over their family is just as fierce as an alpha’s, if not moreso.
And Arthur like, I meant… you’re so… um… *blush* dominant. Bertie practically purring at the compliment.
Arthur walks in and smells DIVINE and he’s so… resisting his alpha urge to just take over that house.
And Bertie’s every instinct (as dragon and as an omega and just as a very smart person) is that Arthur is *perfect*

Hilariously, of course, Arthur does start to take over the house almost immediately. All the while trying *not to* because he thinks his new boss is an alpha and will be angry. (The dragon scent is totally throwing off his sense.)
and mmm Just imagine his confusion when Bertie tells him the truth. And he realizes he has been not just taking over that house, but making a den for the omega he wants. He is about to apologize in a fit of red-faced embarrassment, but then Bertie looks right at him and touches his arm (touches him!) and praises it and tells him how suitable he’s made it, and what a clever alpha he is. He knows–he KNOWS–what that would do to any alpha and he is doing it to Arthur, drawing him closer, reeling him in with those eyes and those words and the scent Arthur recognizes now. “Look how clean you’ve made our home. Look how well-defended it is. How safe and protected I am, my pearl of an alpha.”

Okay so, like, I got an anon, who donated, and made a sort of vague request. (No offense, anon, it’s just that vague prompts are kind of like too specific prompts, in that my mind just sort of… stops.) Anyway, the current political climate, and my mood, would make Tank/Simon too painful to write. And even Zeki/Theo would be a little sad (I mean, they don’t live in our universe, but still, neither of them would be happy.)

So, at someone’s suggestion (ahem) I tried to write a Zeki/Theo vaguely historical but not really arranged marriage AU. Only, well, I can’t even do that right. Anyway. Here you go.

Zeki’s father was insistent that Zeki did not have to consent to the marriage. The alliance with the small northern kingdom would hopefully foster trust between Zeki’s people and the people of the north who had offered them refuge. It was important, Dov had said, but the war leader who would not call himself a king had made it clear this city-state would take anyone who asked for aid, as long as aid was given in return. This marriage was a suggestion only.

Or so they claimed. Stories about the war-leader, Neri, made him out as a murdering beast or a fair and wise ruler depending on who did the telling. But in their weeks camped near the walls of the city, negotiating for farmland and access to the rivers and streams, Zeki hadn’t seen any evidence of Neri’s cruelty. What he had seen were many bands of refugees, like his people, fleeing the tyranny of the southern wolf people. What he had also seen, was that the northerners here were like their southern kin in many ways, with odd behaviors he could not explain.

Like why they would choose him as their spouse, or mate, for one of their own. Zeki’s people had been conquered too long ago for any royalty to remain, and Zeki himself was hardly of pure blood. The signs of his mother’s heritage were in his darker skin and wild hair, and the methods of their magic that he mingled with his.

He was not a powerful wizard either. Perhaps he might have been, if the southern wolves hadn’t driven his people north, leaving him no time for apprenticeship and learning. He was also not a warrior, or handsome. At least, not to his eyes. The rough journey had taken most of the softness from his body, but he verged on too thin, now, and his hair was nothing but untameable dark curls.

But it was Zeki who the offer had been made to. Zeki, who had been approached by a tall, brown skinned northern wolf woman in warrior’s clothing, and her more quiet companion, and told that he and his father were invited to eat with their family that night.

Zeki had been distracted by the woman’s knowing grin, and the utter beauty of the shy man. He hadn’t realized until they were gone that he’d been invited to dine in the great hall where these people had their feasts, or that the woman, and the wolf with her, would be at a table of honor, as if they were nobility.

They had brought his father there to discuss the idea. No one had thought to ask Zeki. They had seated him next to the shy northerner, the one who dressed as a hunter, not a warrior, but who stole honeycakes and left them on Zeki’s plate whenever Zeki was distracted. He was about Zeki’s age, perhaps older, and so handsome Zeki had tripped over his own tongue more than once. The hunter had smiled back, speaking rarely, but in a soft voice when he did, so soft Zeki had to lean in to hear him—at least until the two younger wolves across the table had snickered. Then Zeki had straightened up and done his best not to make a fool of himself in front of anymore pretty northern wolf men.

For all the good it would do him, if he was to be married to one of them anyway.

He had not said yes. He held onto that thought tightly as he waited in Neri’s house, while his father and others talked in low voices in another room. He did not have to say yes. Even if the marriage was likely a noble one, and better than he ever would have done even if he had worked hard to become a powerful wizard. Even if it would help his people. Even if he did not think the marriage would be cruel.

But he had cleaned his finest—least patched—robes before putting them on to come here, and he had tried to brush his hair after a long bath in a cold stream, to be presentable to the northerner who had apparently wanted him enough to ask, or, more likely, had not objected when his parents had suggested the match.

So strange for the northerners to offer Zeki to another man, but they were like the southern wolves, who had odd practices. His own people didn’t condemn it, but he didn’t see how a union with no children would cement any alliance.

“Are you going to say yes?” a soft voice broke through his troubled, tangled thoughts, making Zeki raise his head.

The hunter stood before him, wearing only loose pants despite the weather. His hair was down to his shoulders.

Zeki’s mouth ran dry as his skin flushed with heat, and the hunter took a sharp breath.

Zeki tore his gaze away. Then he quickly looked back. “Should I? Will I—is it a joke?”

“A joke?” The hunter put his head back, and seemed suddenly so much taller than Zeki would ever be. “You believe it’s a—” he frowned as if trying to translate “—a jest, or a lie? You don’t know it’s real?”

“Oh.” Zeki was less reassured by that than he should have been. “So it is real. But then, why me? That’s what I don’t understand. Why me? You’re big and fiercely beautiful—I mean, your people are.” The hunter ducked his head, as shy as Zeki had first thought he was. “Apologies. I speak without thinking sometimes.”

“You are quite pleasing to my eyes as well,” the hunter told him, while facing the wall.

Zeki put a hand over his heart, as if that would stop its hammering. He didn’t know if this was dangerous, but it felt that way, like standing in a storm while lightning crashed around him. The voices from the other room seemed far away, but he recalled the stories of the great hearing of the wolf people, and tried to keep his voice low.

“When I sat next to you, I almost could not be still with how much I wanted to touch you.” Zeki slapped a hand over his mouth, but it didn’t stop the flood of words. “I’ve never wanted to touch anyone else as much as you. I know I shouldn’t say that. I’m sorry. But if I… if I do this, then I shouldn’t ever say it again. And I wanted… I never thought I would find love as my parents had. In the normal course of things, I would have been a scholar, then a wizard, and probably not very wealthy, even with my magic. I probably wouldn’t have married. So I didn’t think… I didn’t think. And now I won’t be able to say these things to you anymore, but I should, don’t you think? A person should get to say what’s in his heart at least once in his lifetime.”

Zeki closed his eyes tight.

“You speak more words than I am used to hearing.” The whisper was close, as if the hunter had moved without making a sound. “Does it pain you say all of that?”

The hunter seemed sad, so Zeki opened his eyes, and looked up into the man’s handsome face, with his gentle gaze and soft mouth and high cheekbones. Zeki could feel the heat from his body, the way he had at the feast. He was even closer now than he had been then. And Zeki could not touch him.

“It is not a pain,” Zeki lied, and a small frown crossed the hunter’s face. “But being near you makes me wish—” too many things to name.

The hunter inhaled deeply, and then his eyes went half-lidded, and he swayed toward Zeki before he caught himself. “I wish for things too,” he confessed, with a quick, darting look toward the room where Zeki’s father was discussing his fate.

Zeki would have to decide. He wet his lips. “Could I… could I kiss you? Now? While I still can?” He’d never kissed anyone before, but he should get to choose who would receive his first.

“You’re asking?” The disbelief in the hunter’s voice would have stung, but then he leaned down, and Zeki’s hands were at his sides of their own volition. His skin was smooth and hot to the touch. His hair brushed Zeki’s cheek, ticklishly soft, and if he paused to put his nose and mouth first to Zeki’s neck before kissing Zeki’s lips, Zeki did not mind.

He shivered for it, and made a small noise that brought the hunter closer. Zeki could wrap his arms around him, and did, and tipped his head back without complaint when the kiss ended, or moved, down the side of his neck, becoming wetter and louder as Zeki panted.

“Will you say yes?” the hunter asked, with a scrape of teeth across Zeki’s skin that had Zeki grabbing fistfuls of his hair to ensure he would do that again. Then the words sank through the warm, delirious fog in Zeki’s mind, and he stopped.

The moment he did, the hunter pulled away with a low, mournful sound.

Zeki was colder without him, and wrapped his arms around his own chest instead. “How can I say yes now? I can’t be husband to a stranger when all I want is you!” He went on, miserably, turning away. “I have met men I wanted to kiss and lie with before, but never this much. That’s probably foolish, to you, isn’t it?”

“Husband?” the hunter finally asked, in a strange tone. “Did they not use the proper word? Do you not know what you’re feeling? Zeki—” Hearing his name for the first time made Zeki face him. “Zeki, you are my mate. If you want to be. If you will have me. We can be married in your people’s way if you wish. But I thought you understood. I thought you were allowing me to woo you.” The hunter took a breath. “You asked to kiss me. Perhaps your kind have rules against that?”

Zeki belatedly turned toward the room where the others were—or so he had thought—discussing his fate. But they were silent now.

“No,” he said faintly, at last. “No rules against that.” Then he blinked. “I don’t know your name.”

The hunter stared at him, possibly offended, or merely confused or worried. Then he shook his head. “I have several. The one that people like you, from foreign places, use, is Theo.” Theo hesitated for another moment, then sniffed the air before continuing. “I can… I can explain mate to you, if you would like that.”

Zeki licked the taste of Theo’s kiss from his lips, while his mind ran in circles. Then he gave one quick, jerky nod. “Yes,” he added, in case Theo hadn’t understood, but Theo was already smiling.

Q: Can we talk about Tim & Nathaniel getting married?

Asked by: Anonymous

Oh my god. These two idiots. Well. As is the way with beings, they are basically already married. And in Wolf’s Paw, no one would deny Tim the right to see Nathaniel in the hospital or vice versa. In fact the opposite would happen. And it’s not like Tim would need Nathaniel ’ s pension or benefits or anything. So human marriage might not ever seriously cross Nathaniel ’s mind.
But Silas is a tricky sob, so it might occur to Tim as a way to protect Nathaniel. Also this is the town that sheltered humans dying of aids back in the day, and Tim will have heard shocked werewolves talk about how their spouses had been denied rights.
So then it becomes about Tim scheming on how to get Nathaniel to agree to it.
(Dear Tim, just ask. He will literally do anything you ask.) He writes out a speech then tosses it. Makes a presentation. Considers bringing in a lawyer so Nathaniel ’ s righta are seen to. Thinks about what sort of dowry he should offer Nathaniel besides his fortune.
Cuz Tim thinks he has to bribe him. Idiot.
Then in his worse moods, he worries Nathaniel will think this isn’t were enough. (Even though he knows deep down Nathaniel will say yes.) So finally he says it, grumpily, worried, in Nathaniel ’ s office while Nathaniel is doing paperwork.
Hey. Um. You should… we should … no, YOU should uh marry me. Like a human. So I can (jeez why are his palms sweaty?) So I can protect you better. It’s um. You would get like half my money if that helps. I uh. I also (when did Nathaniel ’ s eyes get so fierce?) I also want to marry you. Is that… is that too human?

And Nathaniel with that expression of mingled outrage (fucking Silas Dirus did this to Tim) confusion (didn’t he already agree to marry Tim? He’s pretty sure he did.) And soooo much adoration for his scared little mate, who, because this is Little Wolf, responds to his own fear by narrowing his eyes a moment later and snarling, “You had better marry me, Nathaniel Neri! I am your mate!”

He is so perfect. Nathaniel finally just says, “Yes. When? Now?” And all the tension bleeds out of Little Wolf. And he comes over to plop himself into Nathaniel’s lap (you know, and have a soft breakdown where no one can see.) And outside, Nathaniel’s entire staff is quietly screaming.

Okay, these keep going long, and getting a little sad. I’M SORRY. It’s my brain lately.

This is for @vashti-lives who donated, and asked for Theo/Zeki, babysitting.

Theo slid the last tray of cookies into the oven with a satisfied hum, and then surveyed the many racks of cooling sugar cookies around him. He stopped humming, and blinked back to the awareness that he wasn’t in his kitchen, he was in his parents’ house, and he’d gone into their kitchen a while ago to find a snack.

He glanced around guiltily, although his parents had learned over the years to leave him alone while he was baking. It allowed him to focus, while keeping him from wallowing in painful thoughts, or worse, not feeling anything at all.

He stopped before he could search for powdered sugar for icing. Because of course, he didn’t need to wallow now. Zeki was here. His mate was here and wanted him, and had claimed him probably far too early but neither of them could seem to care about it.

Theo blinked down at the dozens of heart-shaped sugar cookies, at the room almost literally overflowing with the power of his full heart, and didn’t have to wonder why he’d gotten distracted enough to bake.

( Read more... )

Since he had a few minutes to wait—and probably some apologies to make to his family for forgetting about them—he poked his head out of the kitchen to look out into the living room. He expected to his parents, and some of his visiting cousins. What he saw was his mate, sitting awkwardly on the couch while two of Theo’s young cousins played on the floor in front of him.

There wasn’t a sound from the rest of the house, as if everyone else had left. He couldn’t tell when they’d be back, or when Zeki had arrived, but he’d clearly been asked to babysit, and for some reason, he’d agreed.

Zeki hadn’t been raised around a lot of relatives or children. That much, Theo knew. He could also tell that Zeki hadn’t been around kids when he’d been in school either, because he staring at the two children in front of him with a blank expression. That was Zeki when he hadn’t worked out what to do about something.

He must feel so unprepared right now, and yet he’d been roped into babysitting anyway. Zeki was… unnerved by Theo’s parents, guilty, around them. They weren’t… well, he had some reason to be. Not guilty—none of that was his fault—but worried about them accepting him. They would in time of course. Zeki’s was Theo’s mate, and more than that, actively trying to prove to them he would protect Theo. But in the meantime, Zeki had probably thought babysitting would impress them.

Theo looked to his cousins. Seven-year-old Lupe’s attention seemed split between the cartoon on TV and Zeki and keeping an eye on her older cousin. Mai was going through some things, or, her mother was, and her father wasn’t around to help, which would probably explain why Mai was currently a wolf. Being upset as a wolf was much easier than being upset as a human. No one made you talk.

Mai’s mood had nothing to do with Zeki, but Zeki probably didn’t know that.

“Are you, um, okay, over there?” he asked Mai, whose ears flicked in his direction, although she didn’t turn to acknowledge him.

Zeki just nodded. “Okay, cool. Um. I know you’re old enough to play outside, or by yourself, and let’s face it, even a young wolf can take care of herself, but let me know if you need anything. Okay? You don’t even have to talk. I’m getting pretty good at figuring out all the were-speak… or at least I think I am.”

“Mai thinks you’re itchy,” Lupe offered. Mai swiped a paw over her nose. Lupe rubbed the sleeve of her Oscar the Grouch T-shirt over her face, although Lupe was only half-wolf, and hadn’t ever shown a hint of shifting that anyone had seen.

“Itchy?” Zeki perked up. “That’s the scent of my magic. It’s uncomfortable at first I know. It’s hard to quantify.”

Lupe exchanged a frown with Mai.

Theo smiled to himself, just a little, for Zeki’s inexperience with talking to children. But Zeki always was quick to learn.

“Oh,” he said, as if correctly interpreting their silence. “Um. I mean that magic smells like a lot of things, but also like nothing else. So a lot of weres find it strange, or unpleasant. But that usually goes away if you’re around it long enough. You get used to it, or I think, maybe you learn to parse it out.”

Lupe put her head in her hands and sighed dramatically. After a moment, she turned toward the TV.

Zeki, unexpectedly, sighed with her. Instead of being relieved, he stared between the two children with that adorable frown of determination on his face. It was similar to how he looked after realizing that if he wanted to tire out a werewolf—sexually—he had to up his game.

Which he had. Very much.

Theo felt himself flushing. Luckily, it was time to check on his cookies, so he did that while he sorted his thoughts out. When he was calmer, he crept back to the corner. He should announce himself, but there was something about the set of Zeki’s shoulders that stopped him. Zeki was up to something.

“Are you guys hungry or anything?” Zeki prompted. “No one made me a list, but I could see what’s in the kitchen. Like my mate, for example, who has forgotten all about me.”

“Never,” Theo breathed, far too softly for Zeki to hear. But since he had gone into the kitchen over an hour ago to get snacks, he could see how Zeki might think it.

“You can cook?” Lupe wondered, voice full of scorn.

Zeki, in purple skinny jeans and a long black cardigan, with rings on every finger and a huge, delicate, fairy-knitted scarf around his neck, made a face as if wounded. “Of course I can. My dad is a chef. I grew up in kitchens.”

Mai’s ears flicked toward him again, but he wasn’t lying. Zeki could cook. He just generally didn’t bother.

Lupe made a doubtful noise. “My mom says you mess around in the kitchen.”

Theo put a hand over his mouth. Zeki, far less shockable than he was, only hummed thoughtfully. “What does she mean by mess around?”

“I don’t know,” Lupe told him, as if this was obvious.

Zeki’s tiny smile was smug. “Well then yes, yes I do mess around in the kitchen.”

“With cousin Theo?” Lupe wondered. Mai tilted her head in Zeki’s direction.

“With Theo, yes.” He was facing down two children, but Zeki raised his chin with proud defiance anyway. He was… well this town had made him defensive about some things.

Lupe shrugged and made a big deal out of staring at the TV. “’Kay. Just make him feel good.”

Theo froze. Weres grew up with a lot more awareness than human children, or fully human children, but Lupe was still eight.

“What?” Zeki cleared his throat. Now he blushed. “What was that?”

“My mom says before we got here that I had to be nice so Theo would feel okay. She always says that when we drive here.” Lupe made it clear this was a burden. Theo frowned a little, although it was nothing to how serious Zeki suddenly was.

“What else does she say?”

“She always says he’s a good place for naps. Which I guess.” Lupe shrugged. “And that if I thought he was sad, I’m supposed to play with him.”

Oh. Theo’s heart felt heavy.

“Did Theo need the cuddles?” Zeki asked softly, knowingly. Theo shook his head, but Lupe looked up.

She responded to Zeki’s serious interest with an adult-like tone. “My brother says his scent is dark sometimes. My mom naps on him too, when we visit. And when they drive out to see us, people hug him a lot. Ooh!” Lupe sat up excitedly. “Even cousin Beautiful Pixy.”

“Cousin Beaut—” Zeki paused. “Do you mean Violet?”

Mai let out a small whuff of amusement.

“No,” Lupe corrected. “Cousin Beautiful Pixy. Violet only sometimes.”

“Right.” Zeki nodded. “My mistake.” He studied the two in front of him, then cleared his throat again. He wasn’t going to let the subject drop, not Zeki. “Theo needed that, huh?”

“I guess.” Lupe glanced to Mai, who sat up on her haunches.

“Mai?” Zeki turned to her. “Theo didn’t smell itchy?

Mai tipped her head to one side. She looked at Lupe. Lupe frowned.

Zeki clucked his tongue. His tone grew lighter. “Did no one tell you Theo was a powerful wizard?” He nodded forcefully in the face of their doubt. “It’s true, he is. That’s why he needed you to help him nap and make him feel better. Magic takes a lot of strength, and he’s so powerful that he lent me his strength while I was… while I was away.” For a moment, Zeki’s smile wasn’t quite real. “I’m a powerful wizard too, you see. That’s why Theo and I were meant to be together. And it’s why I came back. I had to return what he gave me, and make him strong again. But I’m glad you guys were here to help him when I wasn’t.”

Theo’s mate was so beautiful. He was lying, or half-lying, to children who, in a few years, would know he was lying. Mai might be able to tell already. But he was beautiful all the same.

“You’re really a powerful wizard?” Lupe demanded, unconcerned with anything else now. She rubbed her nose—probably mimicking weres she’d seen do that. Mai whuffed again.

Zeki lowered his head to consider them. The light in the room seemed to dim. The wind whistled outside, then rushed past the windows with an impatient howl. For a moment the air smelled of lightning, and then slowly, slowly, Zeki reached over and bopped Lupe on the nose. “Got it,” he called out in delight, and the room was bright and quiet and warm again.

Lupe slapped a hand over her face in horror, then remembered herself and pulled her hand away. “You didn’t take my nose,” she insisted. “That’s not magic, that’s a trick.”

“Oh yeah?” Zeki, unfazed by her doubt, held out his hand. In his palm was one of her barrettes.

Theo hadn’t seen him take it. Neither had either of the children, he guessed, because Lupe gasped and Mai jerked back.

Of course Zeki knew sleight of hand. Of course he did. Non-magical illusions probably amused him.

Lupe screwed up her little face. “That’s still not magic.”

“Nope,” Zeki agreed, smiling and so casually powerful that Theo wanted to pet him. Zeki turned toward Mai. “That’s not magic. But this is.” Theo couldn’t see his face any longer, but he’d seen Zeki concentrating before, felt his stillness and the rising, invisible presence of something his were senses couldn’t identify. It was maddening and frightening for a were to be confronted with that. And awe-inspiring too, once he’d realized Zeki never used it to harm anyone.

Mai’s hackles were raised, but she hadn’t run or back down, or even growled. Her gaze was fixed on Zeki. Theo opened his mouth, although he didn’t know what Zeki planned and if he should interrupt, but then it didn’t matter. Between one second and the next, Zeki was human and bright on the couch, and then a slight, fluffy dark wolf, and then a human again.

Theo took a step backward in astonishment, but Mai flinched, and then shifted in a too-fast blur that probably left her with aching bones.

Lupe cried out in excitement, and Zeki jumped to his feet, already apologizing. “Oh, Merlin’s beard, I did not mean to scare you. It was just an illusion—a real one. I’m so sorry. Here.” He yanked off his cardigan and held it out, with his face turned away and his eyes closed tight. “I’m so sorry, Mai. You can shift back if you want. I forgot that kids don’t have the control like adult weres. Guess I’m not so powerful.”

Theo had never seen an illusion like that, and Zeki was going to claim his magic wasn’t strong?

And oh, but Zeki imagined himself as a beautiful wolf. Little, with fur like his hair, and sharp, crackling energy.

“How did you do that?” Mai and Lupe asked in unison, although Mai’s voice was rough. The sleeves of the cardigan dangled over her hands, but she didn’t get up to go find better clothes.

Zeki opened one eye, then both. He looked over the two of them, and when there was no more shifting or any other signs of trouble, he slowly sank back onto the couch. “Well,” he said nonchalantly, as if his heart wasn’t still racing from accidentally scaring a nine-year-old. “Magic like that takes years of study. If you want to know, you’ll have to work hard.”

Two disgruntled faces answered that.

Zeki waved them off, then leaned down again. “But, if you want to get a feel for natural magic, you should work hard at what you love best. Like Theo does. Then you can see if you’d like to learn other kinds of magic.” The fact that both children seemed uncertain didn’t appear to bother him. “I’ll tell you another secret….” Zeki began to whisper. “Do you know why Theo’s cookies are the best? Because he makes them with magic for you, to make you happy, to make you as happy as you made him. And you know what else? I know he’s been making some for us today, so when you get them, let me know if you can taste the magic.”

“You’re weird,” Mai announced. She had the cardigan tight around her, like a big robe. She was rubbing her nose too. But she wasn’t going anywhere.

“I hear that from wolves a lot.” Zeki shrugged, giving no sign that it hurt for so many weres to reject him, although of course it had.

“Because you aren’t one?” Lupe wondered, scooting a little closer to Zeki. She was… half-were with no signs of being were. Oh, Theo thought again, she was going to feel so alone whenever she was around all her cousins. Like a human in a town of werewolves.

“For a lot of reasons, but we can go with magic, sure.” Zeki answered her seriously, before glancing to Mai. “Also because my pack was just me and my dad, and they didn’t understand that. And I looked different than most of the kids in my school. I was alone a lot. Weres aren’t used to that. They didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe some of them… weren’t nice.” Mai lowered her eyes.

Theo’s mate was kind and smart and wonderful. Theo’s parents were going to be so pleased with him, and grateful they had trusted him with the most precious members of the family.

“But you know who was always nice, even then?” Zeki raised his voice. “Theo. Hmm. He should have been back ages ago. Where is he anyway?”

He possibly hadn’t expected an answer, but both children simultaneously pointed in Theo’s direction. “There,” Lupe announced grandly. “Duh.”

Zeki jumped and swung around to stare at him. His cheeks darkened. “Oh. Hello.” But his slow smile was warm with welcome. “Have you been there the whole time?”

With a clear view of his face, Theo could tell Zeki was tired. That illusion had taken a lot from him, or maybe that was the babysitting.

“Hey,” Theo greeted him, soft and stupidly shy. Sometimes Zeki made him feel that way, he couldn’t help it. “Hold on, okay?” he went on, before Zeki could say anything. Then he ducked back into the kitchen to load a plate with cookies. “They aren’t frosted, sorry,” he said as he handed the plate to Lupe. Lupe, who often mother-henned anyone close to her, related or not, crawled over to Mai to give Mai her share.

Theo kept two cookies for himself, then sat on the couch next to his blushing mate.

“Um, so,” Zeki began, only to stop when Theo kissed his cheek. He slid a questioning look Theo’s way, then sighed and leaned against him. “I’m sorry. I wanted them to know this Theo too, and not just you from before. And you are powerful, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Was that was he was embarrassed about? Theo’s mate was so hard to understand sometimes. He shouldn’t be sad. Theo’s family had been here to help him, the way Zeki was going to be here for Mai and Lupe, and any other Greenleaf or other were who needed him.

“Pack.” Theo buried his nose in Zeki’s hair. “Mate.” Two heart cookies rested on his palm. He held them up until Zeki took one. He made a surprised, sweet sound at his first bite.

The children, already dusted with crumbs, had wide smiles on their faces, although Mai grumbled, “I didn’t taste anything magic,” while Lupe announced smugly, “I did.”

“Look what you’ve done,” Theo warned Zeki quietly, while Mai licked a new cookie in search of the magic taste. She was smiling, and couldn’t seem to stop. They were very happy cookies. “They’re going to want to learn magic now. You’re going to be surrounded by children soon.”

“Everyone should want to learn anything they possibly can about the world,” Zeki responded, with sugar on his breath. He pushed the other cookie at Theo, quietly insistent. “Anyway, I can’t believe we’ve been mated less than a month and you’re talking kids already.” He was teasing, but he was close and warm, and the fast beat of his heart was nothing to the thunder in Theo’s chest at the idea of mate and children and their children. There were always weres in need of homes, and other children too. Zeki might like human children as well, someday.

“Ah, Zeki,” Theo murmured, a little overcome with the rush of instinctual need.

Zeki kissed his cheek.

“Gross,” Lupe declared, and turned to watch TV.

The silk of the necktie felt–as humans said–absolutely sinful as it slipped through Cal’s fingers. He pushed a loop through and then yanked on one end with a satisfied grin, not bothering to look as he pulled the knot tight, then tighter, then tighter still.

He didn’t have to look–Detective Inspector Brannigan’s gaze was locked onto his hands. Anyway, there were more interesting things than knots in neckties to consider, such as the fact that the tie in question had only moments before been beneath the Inspectors’s starched white collar and knotted neatly and properly at the base of his throat.

His throat was exposed now, a rare enough sight for Cal, without the added pleasure of holding silk warmed by the Inspector’s incredible body heat in his hands.

If Cal had been a werewolf, he would have been able to smell the traces of the Inspector’s skin as well.

But Cal was not a werewolf, so when he finally dragged his gaze from bared skin, it was to be faced with the sparkling, crackling colors of desire, and the fierce, bold blue of the Inspector’s admiration–no, not admiration. Love.

The Inspector–Ray, his Raymond–offered up his precious, pricey necktie to Cal without hesitation when Cal asked, and let Cal perch on the corner of his desk in order to be closer to him when no one else was permitted such an impertinence, and listened as Cal explained how that poor, mistreated human girl could not have tied the proper knots required to lower herself to safety, even though no one else ever listened to fairies. Cal’s Raymond loved him and was in love with him and desired him and admired him, and for several seconds, Cal could not move, could not breathe as he looked at him.

And then Ray’s slightly rough voice broke him from his reverie. “Where did you learn so much about knots, Mr. Parker?”

“Oh.” Cal slipped the knot loose and held the strip of silk out for Ray to take. Ray’s fingers carefully did not touch his. Cal glanced away. “There was this Portuguese sailor I once knew–”

“That’s enough, Mr. Parker.” Ray’s growl shivered down Cal’s spine, and then Ray was gentle, soft as he looped his tie round his neck once again and stared down. The silk was creased. But the red in his shine was about jealousy and longing, not a rumpled tie.

Cal moved forward helplessly, taking the ends of the tie in his hands and drawing the Inspector near.

Ray let him, allowed Cal to give him an elegant knot as the base of his throat, his head tipped back and his eyes nearly closed.

He was werewolf, and that mattered. Eyes closed, head back, throat bare–it mattered. But his hands stayed at his desk, and Cal very carefully did not let his fingertips graze his skin no matter how much he wanted to. He curled the tie around his wrist instead, and Raymond did not object.

“There you are, Ray,” he said, instead of anything he could have said, like, love me, or take me, or you have me, Ray, just please tell me why I can only go this far and no farther.

But perhaps it was in his voice all the same, or his scent, because Ray did not move, except to tremble as Cal tugged ever so faintly on his silken leash.

What are you doing?” Ian’s voice came out a little high-pitched when he was aiming for calm. But he thought some alarm was justified. Martin wasn’t accident-prone, but he was clumsy when distracted, and there was no way he wasn’t distracted as hell sitting on the cabin roof and leaning over the edge to hang lights from the eaves.

Martin jerked up, flailed, then shot Ian a pissy look that said that had been Ian’s fault. A second later, residual nerves or something else had him turning a festive shade of red. He considered Ian, then resumed his work with the lights, scooting down to hook them to nails he must have hammered in earlier.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” The wavering note in Martin’s voice took a lot of the sass from the words. “I’m decorating for Christmas.” He didn’t look up.

Ian stared hard and somewhat anxiously at the knitted green hat with pom poms covering Martin’s hair, then glanced around the area in front of his house. An area that had recently begun to look more and more like something that might be called a yard.

It wasn’t domesticated. There was no field of useless grass or picket fence. But the berry brambles were free of spiderwebs and there was a patch of mint in the one spot that got the right sun. Ivy decorated the house but hadn’t been allowed to overtake it, and along the stone path to the door–as there was now a stone path to door– was a sign with Forrester carved out of wood. A friendly hello of a sign, if not a complete smiling welcome.

Ian had a feeling that was only a matter of time.

His fairy tale house, as Martin had once called it, was becoming absolutely charming, and that was before Martin had decided to decorate for Christmas.

The string of lights he was putting up were the simple, old-fashioned giant bulbs from a long time ago, although these were probably some modern energy-saving version, knowing Martin. He’d put more lights in the bushes and even around the front door.

On the door itself was a handmade wreath of green and red holly, tied with a white ribbon that Ian had seen Martin absently twirling around his wrists a few days ago while making decisions in the craft store.

Ian had assumed the ribbon was for presents, or something, and had spent a good hour worrying that Martin would not only expect good, thoughtful Christmas presents, but well-wrapped good, thoughtful Christmas presents, while Martin had picked out twine and new scissors and ribbon and big wire hoop. Then Martin had wanted to go to the hardware store and really, Ian should have known.

“It’s not too much?” Martin fidgeted with the end of the light string. “It’s just some lights, really. I figured Christmas was going to be one of those things you usually only see from the outside, or maybe don’t celebrate as Christmas but maybe as Yule or something?” He peered over, then looped the last bit of cord on the final nail. “So lights and a holly wreath are okay?”

“Do you usually do a lot on Christmas?” Ian asked carefully. He liked to think he was a careful man by nature though Martin assured him he was not. Not at all, babe. Not even a little. Nonetheless, with Martin and the topic of his parents, he had learned to be cautious.

Martin shrugged, then wobbled, and Ian quickly stepped away from his car. But Martin right himself and cleared his throat. “Make her some stuff, watch her ignore it or criticize it. Get high in the bathroom, go home, get drunk. Imagine what my dad is doing without me. Watch A Christmas Story. Pass out.” He shrugged again. “Guess I won’t be doing that this year. So I thought…. You know. I could do what I want. If you want it. It’s your house.”

Ian snorted but wisely held his tongue on that subject. Martin had a lot more than a drawer or a toothbrush in his bathroom. Ian owned different kinds of laundry detergent now. He had two shelves of Martin’s comics and graphic novels in his living room in a bookshelf Martin had built. Martin was in his house and taking it over with far more creeping tenacity than the ivy and Ian could not have been happier.

Except maybe once Martin was safely down off the roof.

“We didn’t really do holiday stuff when I was a kid. For any holiday,” Ian clarified, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice was. He waited a moment. “It looks like a charming forest spirit lives here.”

“A charming forest spirit does live here,” Martin replied smartly, but then took a deep breath. “So you like it? It’s not too much?”

“There isn’t a dying tree in my house, is there?” Ian tried to sound teasing but didn’t think he succeeded.

Martin raised his head. “Of course not,” he said softly. “Not even a plastic one. Not for you. I didn’t do anything inside the house, anyway.”

“Why not?” Ian pouted through his relief at not being subjected to a Christmas tree. “Not even mistletoe? Don’t you love me anymore?”

Wide eyes fixed on him for a moment before Martin huffed. “I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

Ian pointedly looked over his house, now a warm, cheery, festive home, with lights in the fogged-up windows and a puffing, pink-cheeked Martin on the roof, like a bunny in two thick jackets and a crookedly knitted hat.

“What do you want to do inside the house?” he asked, then put out a hand. “Wait. Tell me when you are down here and not up there scaring the life out of me.”

Martin’s eyes lit up but he nodded and then made Ian lose his mind as he swung himself down, stretched his legs toward the ground, and looked as if he was going to jump the rest of the way.

The fact that he had probably done exactly that between putting in the nails and getting the lights did not stop Ian from bolting over to catch him.

To be perfectly honest, Ian might have done that anyway. Things were easier with Martin in his arms. Even when Martin crossed his arms and sulked and insisted he would have been fine.

He didn’t insist too hard, anyway. Two jackets or not, he was cold all over. Ian was happy to warm him up.

“So,” Ian started again, carrying Martin toward the door. “What are the plans for inside?”

“Well.” Martin studied him for a few steps, still uncertain about these things, still shy about his ideas. “Nothing big. Some candles and stuff over the fireplace. But I did want to try making fudge in your kitchen if that’s okay.”

“So okay,” Ian answered seriously. “As long as I get some.”

“Dork. Of course you do.” Martin hummed, already relaxing. “Also… are you doing anything Christmas Eve? If you’re not working, we could hang out. I don’t know. It might be nice.”

“I will check the schedule,” Ian promised. “Would Christmas Day do if I have to work the night before?”

“I suppose,” Martin decided, with an air of great sacrifice that he ruined by curling his arms around Ian’s neck. His hands were like ice. Ian would have to think of a way to warm him.

Ian glanced at the wreath before he pushed open the door. “Did you have any of that ribbon left?” he wondered as he stepped inside.

“Ribbon?” Martin lifted his head from Ian’s shoulder. “What for?”

“Plans of my own,” Ian told him, leering, and closed to the door to their house firmly behind them.

Like, Arthur getting the job and going home, and flushed and out of it, restless in his skin. And he can’t eat, and he can’t sleep, and he can barely wait to go to bed before he’s touching himself, and that is not a good way to start his new job. He knows that. But the smell of smoke and male and Dr. Jones seems to linger in his clothing and it’s driving him crazy.

And he’d stumble into work the next day, exhausted and yet still twitchy and restless, to find Dr. Jones gone, but he left a list of things to do. And Arthur does them… and then does more… because the house needs to be put in order. It’s not *right* as it is. Something in his den is *wrong* and it’s only halfway through the day that he notices exactly what he is thinking, and on the heels of that he realizes that he keeps going past the couch and the study–the two places downstairs that smell the strongest of Dr. Jones.

His throat locks against a howl. Because this can’t be. It shouldn’t be. Dr. Jones is a dragon! A rich, famous, brilliant dragon! Dragons don’t have mates, do they? And if they did, it wouldn’t be a failed grad student and scrawny little werewolf! Oh god. Oh god. He has to be mistaken, this can’t be what it is! It’s just a crush, or something, or the distracting itch of the house’s magic confusing him.

But then the front door opens, and Dr. Jones comes sweeping in impatiently, obviously searching for Arthur, and when he sees him and his face lights up, a shivery, intense heat pools in Arthur’s stomach, and spreads beneath his skin.

He doesn’t know what his face looks like, if his eyes have gone fierce, but Dr. Jones pauses for a moment before continuing forward, and he clucks his tongue like a mother hen. “Darling, don’t be nervous. I know I’m a dragon, but there’s no need to look like that. I’d never hurt you, at any rate. I thought I made that clear yesterday when I hired you. I like you very much, Arthur.”

Arthur is panicking and Dr. Jones just goes on, “Have you been working all day? Marvelous. You truly were a find. Look how clean it is in here already.”
While Arthur is simultaneously dying and preening at the praise from his mate. “You seemed a touch worried yesterday when you fled–I mean, left before I could offer to feed you. Weres do like food, don’t they? As gifts, I mean. I’ve been hoping I’d get to cook for you, show you part of what I’m capable of giving you, but I thought it best that you have some time to think. Perhaps a task to settle your instin–your nerves. I see you’ve done very well on your own, but I missed you and couldn’t stay away any longer. You didn’t misplace anything, did you?” Dr. Jones is prattling. Probably to help Arthur calm down, and it’s working, although not for the reason he probably thinks. His mate’s smoky voice is light today, soothing, and he’s close enough now for his hazy, herbal scent to fill Arthur’s lungs.

The sight of him, elegant and careless and graceful, with those strong shoulders Arthur had seen bare only yesterday, and the column of his throat exposed as he slowly pulls his cashmere scarf away.

“You’re starting to look peckish, pet. Are you hungry, Arthur? I was thinking of making some dinner–you don’t have anywhere to be, do you? No plans for this evening? Perhaps with a boyfriend?”

Arthur twitches at the obvious, so obvious, leading question and shakes his head violently. Because no, no boyfriend. Not one anyway, and definitely not one now.

It is not his imagination that Bertie looks extremely satisfied with that answer. The room, where it doesn’t smell like Arthur’s spiking adrenaline and arousal, is filled with different emotions now; wafts of curiosity and interest, something salty and heavy on his tongue that’s close to lust, and something else, something sharp lurking at the edge of his awareness.

It makes him curl his hands into his palms to stop himself from shifting. It’s not panic this time, but it’s just as embarrassing.

Dr. Jones stops dead, less then five feet from him, and his black eyes gleam in the light. “So you’re staying, then?” he asks, his voice all smoke now, the air still and hot.

Arthur shivers and doesn’t answer–not out loud anyway. He can’t help what his body does.

The sharp scent, hunger, isn’t coming entirely from Dr. Jones. Arthur growls, just once, a short, high sound of warning. He has no idea what to do, but he wants.

And Dr. Jones smiles at his growl, and the floor shakes, and for the barest second, he gives the impression of being much taller, much bigger, than he is.

Arthur wants that too. It’s his, if his instincts are right.

Dr. Jones, when he speaks again, is closer than he was a moment ago. Arthur has to tilt his head back, bare his throat to look at him. “Arthur.” Dr. Jones’s voice is a rumble to crack the foundations of the house.

Dr. Jones bared his throat too, Arthur notices at last, he knows wolves. Arthur remembers the title of one of Dr.Jones’s books–the one on werewolves–and shudders at how obvious he must have been that the dragon knew before he did.

But Dr Jones is closer again, and growing so satisfied that Arthur can hear himself panting as he tries to breathe it all in. Mate-scent, home and lust and need. It can’t be real but Arthur wants, and presses his claws into his palms to keep from grabbing him, from throwing himself at Dr. Jones and whining until Dr. Jones’ teeth are at his throat.

Dr. Jones, so powerful that his scent makes Arthur dizzy, lifts his chin, and it takes everything Arthur has to raise his eyes from the sight of his neck.

But he wants.

Dr. Jones is bright and brilliant and dragon, and dragons don’t let go. If he is Arthur’s mate, then he will never let go. Arthur will never be forgotten. He’ll have a place, and it will be here, with him. And Arthur will be his wolf, his wolf, and he’ll guard him better than any magic.

The whine escapes, high and needy.

“None of that, Arthur, please.” His mate is gentle as he steps forward. He’s hot to the touch, and dangerous, but he curls around Arthur and rumbles when Arthur puts his nose to his skin. He scratches softly at Arthur’s hair. This is Arthur’s mate, and he feels so comfortable Arthur can close his eyes. He can breathe in the scent of him and rest at last.

“Please.” Arthur found human speech again, although he doesn’t know why he chose that word, or why tears are making his eyes sting.

“Of course, darling.” Dr. Jones sounds surprised. “No one in their right mind would reject a treasure such as you. Say it, and I’m yours.”

He’s smiling when Arthur finally lifts his head to look at him.

“Mate,” Arthur dares, holding his breath.

“Treasure,” Dr. Jones answers immediately, without looking away from him. “Arthur.”

GUYS. GUYS. Bertie and Arthur’s second oldest, who is like SUCH AN ARTHUR, and the shy beta werewolf named Ralphie who keeps walking by their house and he DOESN’T KNOW WHY but the dragon’s house smells so flipping good, okay? He just likes it! And then he has to meet this straightforward grad student who is SO. BOSSY. And also just BOSS. And Ralphie is so, so beta, and also like, maybe a junior at most, and that is a DRAGON’S HOUSE, but it only takes him a moment to realize the amazing smell is this intimidating, serious hotass grad student, who is also like, a powerful af wizard, and Ralphie is genuinely TERRIFIED because that is his mate fuck his life.

EDDIE!!! Big brother Eddie who is a bossy, bossy nurturer and is like, yes I’ll take this one. And then he has to convince Ralphie they are Meant To Be and there is a power point and it’s so great.

(via vashti-lives)

OH MY GOD YES. His name is Edmund MacArthur-Jones (yes the MacArthur goes first) and he is a boss ass boss, and he has a MATE. And his werewolf mate is amazing and sweet and sort of shy, and Edmund wants to bite him and leave bruises on him even while kissing him tenderly and softly, and he has some ideas about this and what it means to be the sort of human that would be a werewolf’s mate, but he can’t focus on them now, because even with werewolf instincts behind him, Ralphie doesn’t think he is good enough for Edmund.

What. Is. This. Nonsense?

Obviously Eddie has to prove to them that they are mates and this is a good thing.

And obviously, this involves a Powerpoint presentation.

Eddie is a very thorough boy.

He is so very thorough, he books a classroom and everything. And then when Ralphie says yes suddenly they’re in a very public place and Eddie is like, no it’s fine because he has one parent and several siblings who can smell EVERYTHING and his sense of privacy is uh… not strong. And Ralphie is just like, I demand a door that locks!! How can you be so good at planning and so TERRIBLE at planning at the same time????

And there were photos of a shirtless Eddie that were snuck in by younger siblings when Eddie wasn’t looking. <3

(I feel a little bad rehashing this when you know all of it, but it still makes me laugh and I love it a lot and I feel everyone else deserves to enjoy it.

Also, when we were discussing the fireman and I suggested that he mention something his love interest said several years and then worry he sounds like a weirdo stalker this is an actual thing I worry about all the time because my memory for details is really good. So I’m constantly both worried I sound like a weirdo and also not really sure what other people are likely to remember because I remember everything.)

Eddie, just, like, fine. No sex here. … but I still get to kiss you, right? And… it isn’t like Ralphie would say no. Or want to. But aaahhh it feels so good and why must his mate be great at planning but forget details like LOCKING DOORS? Ralphie was raised in a suburbs okay? He’s not one of those *Wolf’s Paw* werewolves. But um, after a while, he kind of feels like one. Reckless and hungry and protected, because Eddie at least stops to cram a chair under the doorknob, and that will do.

orbisonblue:
@sweetfirebird I would like to hear more about Ralphie, if you’re willing.
(My phone won’t let me send you an Ask, for some reason)
Ralphie. Precious stressed out junior Ralphie. I think he wants to be a teacher. Nothing fancy. Sort of a simple werewolf (he thinks) with simple dreams. Maybe a bit lonely without a pack at his chosen college, but he has friends, he’s doing okay. Grades are good. Like sports, but you know beings aren’t allowed on teams with humans. Which is some bullshit, but the weres tend to let it go, since they are capable of accidentally inflicting serious damage. So he studies and he walks a lot, since he is in Madera, and the woods are too far away for a run, and he ends up passing by this one house a lot.
This one house, and sometimes a different part of campus. But he doesn’t think anything of it, even though everyone knows that’s a dragon’s house (and a professor’s house!) and it’s so filled with magic it makes his nose itch. But his walks lead him there, and it’s sort of… calming… to see the house everyday.
Until one day the door opens and an older man, with gray in his blond hair, comes out to ask what he wants. And Ralphie realizes he has been staring at the house for about ten minutes .

“Bertie, that boy has been by our house everyday this week.”

“Bertie, he’s just standing there, rubbing his nose.”

“Bertie are you listening to me? I’m going to go ask what he wants.”

I imagine at this point Arthur is of two minds. Part of him is demanding he go out and defend his family and castle from this random stranger, but his mother hen instincts are on red alert because look how sad and waifish this poor lost wolf is.

aha Parent!Arthur is so confused (omg. Arthur and Joe’s mom. I bet she wins. I bet she wants to feed Arthur soup forever and he lets her) but he has to do something. And Bertie is reading and distracted, and it is going to take him at least twenty minutes to realize what Arthur said. But Arthur trusts the wards, and he trusts his instincts, and he also has seen his kids through several admirers over the years, and he assumes this wolf has a crush on one of his kids.)

Poor Ralphie is so horrified to be caught, but Arthur is so very magnetic and parental and he spends a moment just frozen, weirdly undecided about what to do. He probably would have run away if Eddie hadn’t come out to provide support for his dad.

I don’t think Eddie is tattooed up like Zeki. I don’t think he needs that sort of focus, because he doesn’t do multidisciplinary the way that Zeki does. This earnest, distracted studious figure, with tremendous control (because magic) and a deep appreciation for knowledge, and very little sense of embarrassment. But, he did grow up in a house full of people, with almost no alone time or privacy, so the idea of having a mate–of someone who is for him alone–is the best thing ever.

Not that he knows about that yet, when he goes outside and finds a were apologizing to his dad. Tall, but all weres are. And built (but all weres are) and cute, and he obviously doesn’t know what sort of house he is dealing because he is making all this effort to seem unthreatening to the human in front of him, and yeah, Eddie’s dad is hardly going to be afraid of one werewolf.

Then the werewolf looks up and notices Eddie and sort of freezes for a second, and then blinks and shakes his head and focuses on Arthur again. But a moment later his attention drifts to Eddie as he walks up to meet them. And his apologies die off as he takes a deep breath. He seems to be having trouble focusing. Or maybe that is speaking. His eyes flash a few times, turn ferocious brown gold before returning to brown.

Arthur is calm about it, despite how strange it sounds. But he fostered more than one were. He knows how their instincts can lead them strange places sometimes. “So you find our house’s scent calming? It must be, if you’re willing to get used to the itchy magic smell.”

“It won’t itch once you learn to accept how magic works,” Eddie offers, calmly, like when one of the little ones has a bad dream. He doesn’t know why he’s implying that the werewolf will continue to come around, except that his dad might invite him in. Arthur does that.

“Itch?” The wolf asks, almost comically confused for someone still rubbing his noise. “No. It’s the best scent in the world,” he remarks. Which is a little too polite of him, but Arthur will like the show of manners.

Eddie is very pleased to know the wolf is polite, that he is impressing Arthur., although he doesn’t get a chance to think why. Because the wolf looks at him again and this time his eyes are definitely wolf, as well as wide and amazed, and he says, “You!” in a shocked whisper a moment before he bolts and runs full speed down the street.

Eddie is left standing there, extremely confused and abruptly a little upset for no good reason. “What was that about?” he feels suddenly adrift and more than a little lost. “Do you think he’s okay?” and as soon as he asks that he freaks out a little because what if he’s not okay?

Arthur, next to him, is very quickly putting two and two together. And when they get into the house Bertie is suddenly paying A LOT more attention because his son is upset. Who has upset his son?

(In my head I imagine that some of these kids are adopted out of the foster system, and maybe one or two adopted as babies in a more traditional fashion. After a few kids though their house starts marinating in all the magic happy, secure being children radiate and suddenly it’s a beacon for kids in need of family and safety and more than one being child just kind of, shows up. Usually this ends pretty simply with a trip to child services and an uncomfortable social worker who can’t really argue that they aren’t properly caring for the child.

This is great for the kids in foster care because officials are way more careful to make sure kids aren’t miserable because if they are there’s a good chance Bertie and Arthur will find out about it and be unhappy. Nobody likes it when Bertie and Arthur come in unhappy.

Once though a kid shows up with no clear origin and then Bertie goes on the warpath trying to figure out where this kid is from because if they can’t keep this child Arthur is going to be broken hearted and that is unacceptable. The MacArthur-Jones household is never boring.)

It’s like this magical Cheaper by the Dozen house. And Arthur gets gray hairs, and he worries over all of them, and he LOVES it. (And maybe, with those kind of parents, so fucking in love all the time, the kids grow up with these ideals about love as well and OH GOD OH GOD I TURNED IT INTO INGLESIDE. OH GOD. IT’S ANNE AND GILBERT AT INGLESIDE.

AND NO. NOPE. IT’S THE SAME, BUT NOT WITH WALTER. NOT LIKE THAT.

AND OOOOHHHH THAT MAKES YOU KNOW WHO RILLA OMGGGG)

Q: Can I take this opportunity to ask for Nathaniel and Tim's meeting from Nathaniel's point of view? Or possibly, to keep with the theme, Valentine's day from his POV?

Asked by: orrla-fairygirl

sweetfirebird

You know, on my old computer that died, I had a version of their meeting from Nathaniel’s pov. Sadness. Basically, Nathaniel is sort of checking out the arriving bus in town because Ray (Ray Ray!) called him and told him to expect trouble in a small package. And Nathaniel, being Nathaniel, was intrigued and protective before he ever met Tim or learned anything about him.

And he was too late to see people getting off the bus, but there is a smell that catches his attention. He’s not really sure why. But he follows it anyway. It’s not like anything else he knows. Not quite ozone and not quite gunpowder, with this residual heat.

He ends up in Robin’s Egg’s cafe, and thinks his empty stomach misled him into thinking it was time to eat, but then he inhales again and that spiky, cordite and sparklers scent hits him again, followed by this heat that isn’t even warm, it more like awareness. His skin is tingling and hot, and he steps forward, vaguely aware that Egg is asking him something, but he can’t hear a word.

There is sugar too, surrounding the new scent. And the residual savory scents of a quick meal. And it’s as he takes another step closer that a figure at the counter turns around and sees him.

Wolf’s eyes, ferocious, starving blue, focus on him. Nathaniel hears a sound, like thunder, but it’s in his ears. Then the wolf, this tiny, starved wolf flings himself from his stool and stands in front of him. He’s breathing hard, panting from his sweet, soft mouth, and he has wide, terrified eyes, and Nathaniel wants to make his fear go away so much it actually hurts.

The wolf is still breathing so hard, and Nathaniel realizes he is too, that he can’t take in enough air because that scent is too much for him. It’s layers of explosions and sparks and terror and wanting, and

–the lust makes his knees weaken. Want-scent curls around him like hands, like that wolf’s pale, slender hands, and Nathaniel needs to bite him, needs to see his bite to know the wolf is okay, that he’s home, that he is safe and Nathaniel will protect him.

He drags in a long breath full of all that temper and fear and fire and hears himself growl, “You.” And realizes he is in the presence of his mate. This little wolf is his mate.

And then of course, on the heels of that (and all his sweetly awed thrilling delight at the idea of meeting his mate, because Nathaniel is a precious baby sometimes) his little wolf mate suddenly cringes away from him and shouts alarming, horrible things at him, and all that lust turns to pure unadulterated terror, and Nathaniel is sick and worried and half a second away from panicking that his mate will leave. He is unprotected and unafraid and he will LEAVE

I really do love Nathaniel. He deserves all that time Tm spends learning how to be gentle and loving. He would bask in it. Every single shy but sincere gesture when no one is looking. (Until that point when Tim forgets to care if people are looking and can see him being soft and vulnerable with his mate. Ah those are the best. Letting Nathaniel take his hand. Or smushing his face into Nathaniel’s arm and sighing dramatically when Nathaniel is taking too long to finish his paperwork and go home.)

Another free short story, because I thought it was here, but it was only on my tumblr. (So many snippets are only on tumblr, but I'm not sure how many are worth bringing over, or would officially be "canon")

This is set sometime after the events of Little Wolf and a Mate of One's Own.

Strange Medicine

( God, he hated therapy )

Free Short for the Being(s) in Love universe.

(Yes, I know. When I imported all the free reads from my old LJ to here for temporary safekeeping, the tags got messed up. I will fix it when I can.)

Chronologically, this would take place sometime after a Boy and His Dragon, but closer to the events of His Mossy Boy and Treasure for Treasure. As you will see when a certain graphic novel series is mentioned.

All the Futures That Could Be

( because writers are seers, darling )

Treasure for Treasure comes out this Monday (December 12), but I will be doing my day job hell week before Christmas then, so my promotion efforts will be limited. However, if anyone wants to ask questions or talk about it (draaagons!) I'm going to leave my Goodreads question box thingee open, and of course, there's also my Tumblr as well.

Speaking of, if you were on my Tumblr today, you might have gotten to see a snippet about the baby. Yes, THAT baby. Well, a few years in the future, so she's not a baby-baby. But... you get the picture. :) (If you honestly cannot figure out Tumblr, eventually I might post it here.)

Meanwhile, I am ready to submit the next book after Treasure for Treasure, I just have to adjust everything for Dreamspinner's new submission guidelines. But soon. Sooooon.

Where have I been?

Writing a story that WOULD NOT END. I love the characters and all, but for whatever reason, the story took me forever to write. (It was probably my emotions in the way. I'm not one of those people who are super in touch with their emotions. Then these issues and feelings just sort of appear in my stories, and I'm like... how did that get there? aaaah.) Anyway, I would adore talking about this book with everyone, but since it contains stuff about my newest book, I suppose I will wait until you all have at least read that. (Yes, this is a tease.)

Newest book? you say. Oh right. TREASURE FOR TREASURE FINALLY HAS A RELEASE DATE! December 12, you can get it and softly murmur mine mine mine as you stow it in your pocket.

In the nineteenth century, the dragon Dìzhèn put the small coastal town of Everlasting under her protection. Her family was supposed to carry on the tradition, but all of Dìzhèn the Great’s heirs eventually left rather than live in the shadow of such a powerful dragon.

Only the youngest dragon of the current generation remains: Zarrin, the softhearted disgrace of his family. He might be weak, small, and afraid, but he is determined to show the humans they have not been forgotten… one human in particular. The problem is, Zarrin can barely get that human to talk to him.

It should be a dream come true to have a dragon trying to get his attention. But Joe refuses to bow to Zarrin like everyone else. Yes, Zarrin is sexy, oddly gentle for a dragon, and stares at Joe with a gaze so hot it makes him shiver. But hurt, mistrustful Joe can’t believe Zarrin’s promises that he’s here to stay. Joe doesn’t realize he is the treasure Zarrin has been looking for his whole life, a treasure he once let slip through his fingers out of fear. Now, to win Joe’s trust, Zarrin has to be brave and become as strong as Dìzhèn herself.

Look at that!!!!

Also, for those who like audiobooks, The Firebird and Other Stories and A Beginner's Guide to Wooing Your Mate are now available on Audible.

And now, pimping done, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who participated in my little fundraiser, and gave money to worthy causes in exchange for sinppets of their choosing. You guys were awesome, and the snippets were fun to do. The charities thank you. <3<3<3<3

Someone on Tumblr asked me about dragons who hoard stories.

And because I have been editing and working on difficult story (it's so painful but good but painful, you guys) for weeks and weeks now, my brain glomped onto this idea like nobody's business. So. Everyone gets a story, which is fun at least.

(And before I forget, no release date on Treasure for Treasure yet. But there will be a sale on a set of Beings stories in October at Dreamspinner. And yes, I am still working on the book after Treasure for Treasure. (It hurts, but it's also soft and gentle, I swear.)

Anyway. Back to dragons who hoard stories.

This story references some ideas and things from books that haven't been released yet, so sorry if that is confusing. Just know that Redwolf and Rum is a graphc novel series about a werewolf, written by an actual werewolf, and that modern dragon families are little... weird. (Plus, like, doesn't the world need more gay dragon regency romances????)

All the Futures That Could Be

Too many stories and not enough stories, thousands upon thousands of them in the room as they were in Edgar’s mind. But to others it was hushed, and the crackle of the fire was peaceful, so they would often come to sit on the couch and listen to him talk about stories as if they believed what humans did—that storytellers were Seers. That was why Edgar was shown respect although he was a dragon with no treasure of his own.
But he certainly didn’t feel wise or all-seeing. He felt slow and foolish, half-lost in a graphic novel about love and unable to pull himself completely free.

I've noticed some people reading Beings books lately, along with some comments that lead me to think some people are confused. Or maybe just not the sort of people to dig around in my old posts to find information. Which is fair. I mean, I probably should build a website, but then I'm like, I'm not the sort of big name author who needs one. (Also, I'd rather be writing then doing building things or promoting things. It's true.) I do have my livejournal/goodreads reposts, and my tumblr, where things are (mostly) tagged. But yeah, I do need to set something up for that. SIGH. In the meantime...

THE BEINGS 'VERSE EXPLANATION POST!!

Q: What is the Beings 'Verse?

A: Imagine a world just like ours, but where the magical creatures of legend (like fairies and elves and werewolves) are real, and they live openly (for the most part) with humans. But, they haven't always done so. The creatures, referred to by humans as beings, only came out of hiding when they were forced to. This happened in Europe during World War I, and panicked humans were not very accepting, so most beings live on the fringes of mainstream human society. They are idolized for their beauty and power, but also feared and mocked. Humans also do not distinguish much between the legends around these creatures and the reality of them. Over time, even the beings aren't sure about themselves.

All cultures have these creatures, and different histories with them. Some clearly worshiped their beings as gods or something godlike. Others revered them. Others told stories about encounters with them, where the beings could be benevolent or cruel or loving or petty--you know, just like humans. This is where fairy tales come from.

But then, as humans grew in strength and numbers, they stopped taking such care with these beings. They destroyed the forests where they lived, or drove the werewolves from their lands. Many of these humans, especially in Europe, when Christianity/the Church became a dominant political force, and then through colonization and imperialism, became a dominant force in most other countries, outright rejected the beings. Because the beings are different. They love indiscriminately. Some of them are naked. Their morality has its own rules. They view things like gender, and sexuality, in ways that these humans did not want to understand. So the humans called them evil, or banned the stories of them, and they did the same to humans who were similar to the beings.

But, when those cruel, powerful humans brought war to the entire globe, the beings had no place left to hide. Of course, some had never hidden in the first place, or had continued on as they were under the noses of European occupiers, but that is a story for another time.*cough*

Some of the beings remember their history, and others do not. Because they aren't represented accurately (or sometimes at all) in human media, many of them now believe the horrible things said about them. Others are fighting to prove what they really are. Alongside these beings, you have the humans who are like, or who love them.

Q: Are you some kind of nerd?

A: Yes. Obviously.

The Books:

Q: How many books are there?

A: 6 as of now. 7 is on its way. I am working on 8. (I started it this week! Aaaah!)

Q: Do the books need to be read in order?

A: No. They are written as standalones. HOWEVER, I do think people will understand certain references better if at least some of the books are read in the order they were published. AND, there are moments with recurring characters and themes that will make more sense if you've read everything. But no, it's not necessary to have read, say, Some of Kind of Magic before you read A Boy and His Dragon or Little Wolf. (In fact, I don't think most people do.)

Book 1: Some Kind of Magic

A novella set in Los Cerros, a town with a significant being population, and which is considered a liberal town for that reason. A werewolf protects the things he loves, even from himself, if necessary. Features Ray Branigan, who is only the second being to ever make detective in Los Cerros. It also features lots of prejudice against beings, especially werewolves and fairies. Prejudices so strong even the beings have started to believe them. (Bad, Ray! Very bad! That is no way to treat your mate!)

Book 2: A Boy and His Dragon

Set in Madera, about an hour away from Los Cerros. About a human boy with a noble heart, and the nerdy dragon history lecturer who adores him. Humans have lost the language to communcate with beings, so it takes our human boy, the lovely Arthur, some time to realize what a dragon might mean by calling him treasure.

Book 3: A Beginner's Guide to Wooing Your Mate

Wolf's Paw, a town several hours from Los Cerros, is a town run by, and for, werewolves. If you're a human wizard, you might not feel very comfortable there. If you're a shy werewolf, you might feel like a bit of a failure for not getting your mate to love you. This story really starts to explain the idea of mating as werewolves view it. (Ray isn't really the explaining things type.) This is important because of

Book 4: Little Wolf

In which the toxic ideals about how werewolves ought to act have traumatized a young were to the point where he cannot recognize the mate in front of him. I cannot with this story. The real concept of mating (and treasure, and shine, and true love) finally starts to become more clear. It helps when you have a werewolf who acts more human than wolf.

(Book 4.5: A Mate of One's Own. A short story about Zoe, Little Wolf's friend, and her discovery of her mate.)

(Little Prince--a silly short version of Little Wolf I did, in which they are not werewolves. Very silly.)

Book 5: The Firebird and Other Stories

HOLY SHIT. Okay. This book... this book is readable without the other ones, but I personally would advise reading it after you have at least read one or two of the others. (I know some people didn't do that and still enjoyed it. But I'm just saying, it was written as I was writing the other stories and there are some tie ins.)

Basically, this book of short stories is about the beings shortly after they emerged from hiding, to the present day. Has lots of cameos, and except for two of the stories, is set in Los Cerros. LOTS of ideas about love and mating and hope in this story, which is good because there are a lot of horrible things humans have done to each other (and to the beings) throughout history. That hope is so, so necessary.

(Book 5.5: Frangipani and the Very Shiny Boy. A short story about a fairy desperately trying to get a boy's affection.)

Book 6: A Dandelion for Tulip

Back in Madera, with a human who is finally attempting to discover the real history between humans and beings, and the fairy who loves him. Further explores the idea of shine. Features a lot of callbacks to the ideas from the previous stories. And some cameos. Were you curious about fairies? Well this is the book for you, then. :)

Book 7: Treasure for Treasure

In which there is a small town that belongs to dragons--even though the dragons seems to have forgotten about it. One small, very determined dragon is going to have to prove to everyone that he will properly care for this treasure.

Book 8: (Well, wouldn't you like to know?)

And that is it for now. I do actually have a Beings 'Verse timeline in my notes, but it's incomplete, so in the future, I might repost all this and add it. I was also going to talk about Hottie Scotty and Mr Porter, but they are not beings, so I won't for now. Maybe this weekend.)

As always, people are free to ask me questions.<3

Look, I, uh, am supposed to be doing this promotion stuff right now. There's a lot to promote. However, to be perfectly honest, with all the crying/raging/feeling sick to my stomach I've been doing all week, I don't have the energy to do it well or without feeling tacky as shit.

But, at the same time, what I've been doing for the past few days is talk about stories and discuss online comics and analyze every single moment of books/pairings/series I love with other people, and... the distraction helps. Or maybe that's how some writers and book nerds and daydreamers deal with horrible things.

I mean, I was shouting at and then blocking assholes online for a while there. And then crying with friends, and just... yeah. But for some of us, fantasy is a weird coping mechanism. Making up headcanons about characters who aren't mine, and being silly stupid in love with all of them, and imagining how their stories might play out is just... so oddly comforting.

So to make my publisher happy, and also maybe for anyone who wants to know, or just likes fantasy romance as a distraction, I'm just going to list some promotional stuff today. Not-quite Arthur style.

This weekend (June 17-19) Dreamspinner is offering three of my titles (Dancing Lessons, Play It Again Charlie, and Wicklow's Odyssey) for 99 cents (each? I think?) on the new Dreamspinner website. (Of those, Wicklow's Odyssey is the one I like to make up headcanons about the most. Idk why. But Charlie and Will have so many AU versions of them)

Next week, A Dandelion for Tulip comes out. I got my paperbacks in the mail today. I'd completely forgotten about them. So, June 24th, all the fluffy, yearning boy-meets-fairy you can stand. Book Six in the Being(s) in Love series.

Speaking of, Dreamspinner just today accepted what will be Book Seven. Treasure for Treasure. Yes. That is the one involving the sugarbaby dragon. :)

I wrote a short story/novella and will self publish it soon. I'm just waiting on a cover, and then a bit more free time so I can format it. Hottie Scotty and Mr. Porter will probably go on sale on Smashwords and Amazon for a short amount of time, and then just Amazon for a while.

What else? (All this stuff happens at once) Oh, the Beings series is going to be translated into French, apparently. That's cool.

I will be messing about on my Tumblr for the weekend after Tulip comes out, as usual, if people want to join/bug me. :)

And oh. I am doing a blog tour (Which, now that I've done it, I'm not sure I would do it again. It's like speed dating in author bio form, and I am much too awkward for things like that.) But, here are the dates for my posts. Some of the sites might do reviews as well? I'm not really sure how it all works.

June 17 - MM Good Book Reviews

June 23 - Alpha Book Reviews

June 24 - Divine Magazine

June 26 - Love Bytes

June 28 - The Novel Approach

June 30 - Long and Short Reviews

Yes, I did a different post for each one. And no, they probably don't make much sense. Especially toward the end. But there are some excerpts and me musing about fairies and shine and why I write the Beings, and things like that.

So I hope everyone is safe, and can find something somewhere to give them comfort. if it's my cheese, that's awesome, but if it isn't, I get that too.

And now I leave you with the cover, because these sweet, romantic fools are so not my usual dorks at all.

So.... I got a little obsessed with something I was working on and disappeared again. It's a thing I do, and it's how the stories Come to Be, but if you ever want to bug me or just pop in and lurk to see what I am doing, you can always go check out my Tumblr. Sweetfirebird

Lots of randomness happens over there in the strange lands of tumblring. Mostly I reblog geeky things, or fannish things, or ranty liberal things, and in between I make comments about what I am currently working on. Also people sometimes Message me or send me Asks about book stuff, which you are all always free to do. (You could also do this on Goodreads, or here, or Facebook, but that seems to be pretty rare. And I don't think LJ even notifies me about messages. Sigh.) Anyway. The Tumblr. You can even ask stuff anonymously if you want.

All right. Now. back to deets, which is very important they tell me.

The next book in the Being(s) in Love series is coming out at the end of June. A Dandelion for Tulip is released on June 24th. What's it about? Well, there is a doctoral student named David, who is so very much in love with a fairy named Tulip. But, Tulip doesn't date humans.

Of course, there's a reason for that. But poor David doesn't know it. And he isn't going to ask, because of some past heartbreak of his own. It's, um, a little awful, to be the kind of noble, pure soul who attracts Beings and who shines in every fairy's eyes. (I mean, ask Arthur. He'll tell you. It means more than you being nice or kind, it means you are brave enough to continue trying to be a good person, and that... is one of the most painful things you can do. The shiny ones are in such need of a fairy's care. It's a shame that some fairies are incapable of staying for long, but can make you feel like they might.)

So, um, yes, much pining. Light yearning and bittersweet feelings and longing and *Valentine's Day* and uuggghhhh.

Also, a bit more on North American (American) fairy culture. Because I'm sure everyone has been wondering what the hell fairies do amongst themselves, right?

A Dandelion for Tulip

(Also, I should point out for those own/want to own the paperbacks, the paperback preorders are on sale right now.)

Aaaaanyway. I submitted my sugarbaby dragon to DS and I'm waiting to hear back. So that would be the next Being(s) novel if they like it. Dragons!

In other Beings news. The Little Wolf audiobook is available on Audible. Apparently, it is 19 hours long (hotchi motchie!) and from what I've been told, the narrator had complete fun with it. I, of course, turn into a weird anxious baby when it comes to things like that and can't actually listen to the audiobook.

(If audiobooks *are* your thing, however, Dancing Lessons is now also available in audiobook form, also at Audible. And no, I haven't listened to it either. Someone tell me if it has a soft Chico.)

And, uh, I just finished something that was going to be a short something, but of course went a little longer because it's me. I hope to put it up on Amazon soon. Basically... me rereading my beloved LMM short stories, and thinking, oh wouldn't one of those be great, but set now, and queer, and maybe a bit kinky? Hmm. Not sure I succeeded there, but I did try. That should count for something.

And now for something completely different:

On a personal note, as someone who does NOT like discussing private matters (and who considers almost everything private), and who is also intensely anxiety ridden in social situations, I have a very small group of real llife and in person (not internet) friends, and one of them, knowing me, and just being supportive and lovely in an unspoken way, sent me a link to the Pride Converse. And while I have issues with commercialism in general and in this area, (and pieces of canvas costing $60-70) I also love Converse, and am one of those demi/bi what-have-yous--which is obvious if you know me, but not something I really talk about for the above reasons (and you know, to be left alone at work and not have my hours reduced etc). Anyway, the link was intended as a 'I know. I love you. And these shoes are cool, you could maybe get some?') and I am just so pleased and have been quietly atwitter about it all day today. So. Sharing.

NOW LET'S NEVER TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN. FEELINGS? WHAT ARE THEY? I DO NOT KNOW.

I am going to put more cherries in my ginger ale and read silly hockey boys in love.

More updates when I know more. :)

Sorry, everyone! I did the thing where I wanted to finish what I was working on, and I basically just did that and the day time job full time nonstop until it was done.

Which it is now. Although I am forcing myself to take a break before I edit. This is very difficult for us obsessive types, but it Must Be Done. (Or so they say.) I suppose I should attend to all those real world errands and necessities I was putting off in the meantime. Oops.

But you know, adorable sugarbaby of a dragon and his sensitive artist treasure. Like, I HAD to finish them. (And then I got mentally sidetracked a bit by some of the additional characters and randomly paired them up even if they don't speak to each other in the story aaaah the things my brain does.)

Anyway. So while I was finishing Joe and Zarrin's story (Treasure for Treasure is a good title, right? Adorable.) I got some other news. Dancing Lessons will be getting an audiobook! I think I was told it would be released in June. Or July. :) Either way, that is awesome. I also got to see the cover for A Dandelion for Tulip, the next in the Being(s) in Love series. Sadly, no nakedness on the covers, so this fairy will be dressed. (He wouldn't normally be, though. Just fyi. Tulip is like the old kind of fairy. The kind in story books.)

I wish I had more to say. My brain is still in Everlasting right now though. (Everlasting being the town that belongs to dragons. Not that there are any dragons around anymore, except one. The youngest dragon is the soft-hearted disgrace of the family, but determined to show the humans they have not been forgotten... okay... one human in particular at first and then the rest of the humans. One pretty human who he can barely get to talk to him. Which is so distressing. How does one talk to humans? What does it mean when they frown at you and give you presents? Why will the pretty human not accept *his* presents? Humans are so maddening.)

Hopefully, I will have more concrete information in at my next update. And maybe snippets or something now that I can take a small break for some fun stuff. (I wish I had more dragons, because creating a sub-series within the beings series called The Dragons of Everlasting would be amazing.)

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repost- tumblr prompt. Joe/Zarrin kiss below the waist
au repost-a/b/o arthur and bertie thoughts
repost- the zeki/theo arranged marriage au
Tim proposing - repost
Repost - Zeki babysits
repost - Mr. Parker's Murder Mysteries
A Charming Forest Spirit and His Bunny repost
repost- Arthur as a werewolf au
more beings, the next generation - repost
Repost- Arthur and Bertie as parents (aka beings, the next generation)
Valentine's Day ask, Nathaniel pov meeting Tim. repost
Strange Medicine
All the Futures That Could Be
quick note
long time no see <3
Free story-- All the Futures That Could Be
just little Beings things
update
News, Beings, and the importance of adding cherry juice as well as cherries to one's ginger ale.
that powderpuff of a dragon i keep talking about, and some other things...

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Page generated Jul. 15th, 2025 01:11 am

the journal of r. cooper

writerish person and beautiful weirdo

Entries tagged with beings in love

repost- tumblr prompt. Joe/Zarrin kiss below the waist

au repost-a/b/o arthur and bertie thoughts

repost- the zeki/theo arranged marriage au

Tim proposing - repost

Repost - Zeki babysits

repost - Mr. Parker's Murder Mysteries

A Charming Forest Spirit and His Bunny repost

repost- Arthur as a werewolf au

more beings, the next generation - repost

Repost- Arthur and Bertie as parents (aka beings, the next generation)

Valentine's Day ask, Nathaniel pov meeting Tim. repost

Strange Medicine

All the Futures That Could Be

quick note

long time no see <3

Free story-- All the Futures That Could Be

just little Beings things

update

News, Beings, and the importance of adding cherry juice as well as cherries to one's ginger ale.

that powderpuff of a dragon i keep talking about, and some other things...

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