For Friendly Anon’s commissioned prompt, second half of the story, after Up Shit Creek (LJ) and Shit Keeps Coming (LJ)
Fae Apoc has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.
The redheaded stripper launched herself at him from the stage. This was… not what Pyry was expecting. Sure, he was a generous tipper, and always tried to be a gentleman, but…
“Eee, you’re adorable. Bo Duke, what did you DO to yourself?” She straddled his lap, putting his face directly between her lamé-clad breasts, and stroked his horn.
He didn’t whip his head up, because he didn’t want to poke her in anything important or expensive, but he did, slowly, look up into her face. It was a long way and a lot of freckles up to her stunning green eyes, but he made the voyage heroically. “Desirée?” he managed.
“Des, get back on stage,” the manager hollered.
“Oh, come on, Ted, there’s three people in the bar and one of them’s asleep. Besides, Bo paid me for the lap dance, didn’t you, Bo,” she grinned.
“Of course I did, Des.” He tucked the folded fifty in the side of her g-string. “Des, I thought…”
“Oh, yes,” she grinned at him. “We were talking about what you did to yourself. I didn’t know you were fae, you lovely man. What made you decide to some in with your Mask dropped after all this time?”
“I, uh.” Pyry squirmed. “Just Changed.”
“Just.” She pursed her lips. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“Yeah…?” He had a sinking feeling he’d suddenly lost his favorite dancer. He suppressed the urge to slide another fifty in her g-string, and, instead, asked merely, “you like it?”
“It’s lovely.” She petted his horn gently. “It feels good, like getting a shower.”
“It should,” he admitted dryly. “It can turn anything cleaner.”
“That’s a pretty impressive power, Bo.” She kissed the base of his horn and wiggled pointedly on his lap. “Do you have a Mentor and all that?”
“Uh…” He squirmed more. “My mother’s looking for someone.”
“Hunh.” She pressed his face into her chest as she made thinking noises. “I know someone. I know a couple someones. Who’s your mother?”
“Argh,” he complained against the freckled curves. “I’m not eight.”
“No,” she laughed, “you’re not. But there’s a way these things go, and, well, I don’t think you want me as your Mentor.”
“You?” he coughed. “I… don’t think I’d be able to focus on my studies.”
“Oh, nonsense, you…” whatever she was going to say was drowned out by the slamming of doors as three… trolls, they had to be trolls, Pyry hadn’t know such people really existed… stomped into the bar. “Shit, Nedetakaei. Stay behind me, Bo.”
“Oh, not from you, too,” he grumbled. “I’m. Not. A. Kid.” The tall stripper was already off of her barstool, though, and chanting under her breath.
“Fine, then, try not to get killed.” She tossed him a short wooden sword as it appeared in her hand, and… jumped. Landing upside-down on the ceiling.
“Nice.” He didn’t have time to appreciated it more than that, though; the trolls were going straight for him.
“Horn,” the blue one laughed. “That’ll be fun. Come on, pretty boy, you can be our new pet if you’re good.”
Pyry felt a smile stretching his lips. He was finally going to get to fight monsters! “Maybe I can take you home for my sister to play with,” he quipped… and the fight was on.
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