#Give me my little princess Procreate Dreams

[tapakah0]

Is procreate dreams giving you issues?

Apple doesn't give me it, we're fighting in a combat

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: breeding kink is heavily hinted at in writer's own amateurish way, unprotected p in v -with the intent to procreate, biting/marking, petnames and dirty talk, steve's weak af pullout game, creampie and swearing. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt - creampie / breeding kink

character | fandom - steve harrington | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, roommate turned girlfriend & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 2.9k

tagging -< taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . a lost little girl at a Halloween carnival ignites your baby fever. when you make this known to Steve, he does his very best to make both your lil dreams a reality. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆. ───

The little Fall Fest is in full swing downtown near the park. You and Steve make your way through the entrance, greeted by Robin and Nancy as the two rush over, sharing a bag of cotton candy.

❝ You two finally made it.❞ Robin laughs as she slips an arm around Nancy, pulling her closer so that the people trying to walk past can get around them a little better. Nancy looks from you to Steve, laughing at your choice of couples costume. ❝ Lemme guess..❞ she muses after a few seconds, ❝ You’re Pete Mitchell..❞ she nods to Steve and he chuckles, reaching out to take some cotton candy from Robin’s bag. Nancy studies you and as soon as she realizes that you've borrowed Steve's button up and a pair of his old gym socks, the same dark tinted sunglasses he wore frequently while dating her, she laughs. ❝ Joel Goodson?❞

You laugh and give a thumbs up. ❝ I might be the frozen version if it keeps getting colder.❞ you respond, Steve wraps himself around you from behind and as he nuzzles hair away from your neck, he drops a lazy kiss or two against your skin. ❝I won't let that happen, princess.❞ he murmurs.

❝Ugh, you two get a room.❞ Robin scolds, but you're quick to turn it around on her seconds later when Nancy is all cozied up to her as the four of you are wandering the midway.

You're waiting in line for funnel cake when Steve feels a tug to the thigh of his jeans.

He glances down and as soon as he sees the red faced crying 5 year old looking up at him in a pink coat way too thin for the weather, he drops down to her eye level. You do the same, the both of you trying to coax the little girl into a more calm state.

❝ M-my mama..my mama left me.❞ she sniffles. You go over to the food vendor and grab some napkins, sitting down on cool grass in front of her as you wipe her nose clean. Then you wipe her tears.

Steve watches you quietly. He's trying to keep his distance because he doesn't want to scare the little girl and make things worse. She's calm right now, you're doing an amazing job at seeing to that.

❝ Maybe she's just in the bathroom, sweetheart.❞ you coax the little girl but she shakes her head, dark brown curls bouncing. You glance over at Steve and motion for his leather jacket, draping it around the girls small shoulders. She’s staring at Steve quietly.

Then she steps in front of him. ❝ I'm scared. She did this before and she didn’t wanna come back but they made 'er.❞

Your heart breaks when the little girl says that. She melts against Steve and you stand. ❝ I'll be right back. I'm gonna go check the bathrooms.❞

Steve nods, standing up as he adjusts the lost little girl from one side of his body to the other. Her head settles against his chest as the last of her tears fade. And the more you see, the more you're convinced.. he will be an amazing father one day.

What throws you for a loop and has you blinking is the thought that follows immediately, I can't wait.

❝ I'm going to check the bathrooms now. Take her and go find Chief Hopper. Somebody needs t' know.❞ and with a peck against his stubbled jaw, you're gone, Robin and Nancy in your wake.

All Steve can think about is the look on your face when the little girl revealed that this isn't the first time her mother has possibly abandoned her. You were so angry that he saw your hands shake a little. He can't stop thinking about the way you sprung into action, all those maternal instincts you once joked that you don't have, taking over without hesitation.

It got him hot and bothered and now, all he can think about is the mental image formed as he watched you with the lost little girl just now. She’s gonna be an amazing mom someday. - he's a little stunned at just how easy it is to picture. I can’t wait. 

That thought shocks him, not as much as the images his mind conjures up not even a second later in response to it, but it definitely takes him by surprise.

He pulls himself out of his daze when he spots Jim Hopper nearby. 

As he's explaining the situation to Jim as the little girl explained it to him, you wander up with Nancy and Robin in tow. 

❝ Did you find her mom?❞ Hopper asks.

❝ Nobody was in there.❞ you answer, reaching out to take the little girl from Hopper’s arms. ❝ Shh.❞ you soothe her as she starts to cry again, ❝ It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. Maybe she's looking for you right now.❞ 

Hopper clears his throat. ❝ You two okay takin her? I'll go find Cal and we'll try lookin around too. If we can't find the mom, you two okay takin her tonight? I really don't wanna deal with dragging Irene over at the county home outta bed.❞ 

❝ Totally.❞ Steve answers, earning him a grin and your body melting against his side as you lace your fingers with his and give his hand a little squeeze. You speak up, ❝ We've got her. Just let us know if you do find the mom? I've got a few things I'm dying to say to her. She's a shitty one being one of the first.❞ 

Hopper walks away. Steve shifts the lost little girl from one side of his body to the other and you lean your head against his bicep as the three of you begin to walk down the midway with Robin and Nancy in tow.

❝ I'm sorry.❞ you mumble against the shell of his ear at one point, ❝ I..I couldn't just leave her with the cops, screw protocol.. Like Chief Hopper said.❞ 

❝ Me either.❞ Steve answers, pulling you closer into his side to slip his free arm around you, ❝ Relax. It's fine, okay? I mean it.❞  he reassures you, giving you a calm smile as he stares down at you. You nod, smiling back.

❝ Thank you.❞ you mumble.

He chuckles quietly. Shrugging as if this is nothing, like anybody would do it if placed in the position. He doesn't have the first clue what's going on in your mind. He doesn't realize that his ease in doing this has you really thinking hard about everything.

❝ You okay, princess?❞ he asks, giving you a concerned look.

 You smile and nod because right now, that's all you can manage. Your mind is too full. Those little random thoughts you've been trying to keep to yourself lately are taking over. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ ･ ｡ﾟ ───

You've been quiet for most of the night. So quiet that Steve is starting to worry. When the silence in the car is too much for him, he clears his throat.

❝ Is something wrong?❞

If you say what you're thinking the thought comes, it could mess everything up. You know how much you love him. Is that a risk you're willing to take? 

Of course, the second you open your mouth, rationality flies out the window. As you look at the little girl curled into herself and buried in Steve's leather jacket in the backseat, you can't help but smile. You can't help but think that this is exactly how you want your life to be.

❝No.❞ you laugh softly and shake your head, glancing over, locking eyes with him as you take hold of his free hand. ❝ I was just thinking..❞

❝Oh yeah?❞ Steve asks, raising your hand to his lips as he presses a kiss against it, ❝ Anything you wanna tell me about?❞ he glances over, the car comes to a stop beneath the new red light they've just put in a block away from the apartment the two of you share. You swallow hard. It's the smarter idea to just say no, there isn't, but apparently your brain isn't willing to deal with logical or smart.

Not right now when you keep replaying just how good he was with the lost little girl earlier - or how amazing he's been with her since. 

❝ You’re gonna be an amazing father some day, baby.❞ the words leave your lips but it doesn't end there. ❝ I can't wait.❞

Steve coughs. This is not what he was expecting to happen, not at all. ❝ W-what do you mean you can't wait?❞

You're starting to panic. You didn't mean for it to slip out, but it has. ❝ I-I..nothing, I just wanted to tell you that.❞

The rest of the ride is quiet. As the brick building you both live in comes into view, you're resigning yourself to the fact that you might have made a major mistake. That you probably shouldn't have implied what you did and it might have just cost you the man you love.

Steve is reeling. Floored. Your words keep repeating like a broken record in his brain. And all the dumb hope he's been shoving down for months now about the way things are between the two of you.. he's starting to wonder if maybe he'll finally have everything he's ever wanted.

He pulls the car to a stop and puts it in park. You’re out so fast he doesn't get a chance to say anything, let alone everything he's dying to. He catches up to you just as you pause at the lobby door to shift the sleeping girl around in your arms. He reaches past you, pushing the door open so you don't have to fumble around doing it by yourself.

As the three of you get to the stairs leading up to the floor you live on, it hits him that maybe staying quiet after you said what you did in the car wasn't his brightest idea. He can feel you shutting down, pulling away like you tend to when you're nervous.

By the time you step out onto the hallway leading to your apartment, he knows he has to do something, he has to show you that he feels the same way.

By the time you're stood in front of the door marked 21b and digging for your key, he's determined.

❝ I got it.❞ he finds his key and reaches around you, strong arms cage you in between his body and the door, his chest pushing soft against your back. You bite your lip and give him a weak smile, stepping into the apartment. He shuts the door behind him, triple- locking it as you settle the sleeping little girl on the hand me down leather sofa his mom gave him when he got the place.

He leans against the locked door, his thumb through his belt loop as he watches you silently. He's still trying to process the implications of what you said in the car. Still trying to figure out what it is he needs to do at this point. Because he knows he has to do something.

This becomes painfully clear when he watches you wander into the bedroom you've been sharing and you emerge minutes later in one of his old shirts, his second pillow beneath your arm.

❝ What are you doing?❞ he steps in front of you, lingering hesitantly for a second until he just can't anymore and he's stepping into you closer. He's towering over you, staring down at you in confusion.

❝ I..❞ you swallow hard. ❝ I thought I should stay in here tonight..with her.❞ it's not a complete lie, but you also know that Steve’s bed is huge, it'll easily fit the three of you.

❝ Wanna try that again, princess?❞ he's smirking and he might look calm but on the inside, he's anything but calm right now. ❝ Talk to me.❞ he coaxes, tucking a thick digit beneath your chin to get you looking up at him when your gaze drops. You take a deep breath or two. The pause stretches, it feels infinite for him and he can't handle it.

❝ Did you mean what you said?❞ he asks, staring down at you intently. He sees the way you start to fidget and shuffle your feet and he knows you're nervous. ❝ Because you..you can't just say stuff like that, princess. Not if y' don't mean it.❞ he doesn't tell you that the reason is because his own dreams, six little nuggets and a house full of love and laughter, not silence and emptiness, are at stake here.

He steps into you even more and your knees brush the sofas edge. If you weren’t so scared you made a huge mistake earlier, you'd definitely be soaked right now.

❝ What if I did, huh?❞ you finally respond. 

He fucking melts. He's all over you, his hands and mouth anywhere he can get them. ❝ We don't have to wait, y'know,❞ he mutters against your skin as he noses your hair out of the way and nuzzles his nose against your warm,soft skin. ❝ I don’t wanna wait, princess.❞ his hands fall to your hips, squeezing. 

The love in his eyes as he stares down at you is enough to make your breath hang as he pulls you up his body, his mouth devouring, his tongue dominating yours as soon as its parted your lips. ❝ I don't want to wait either.❞ you admit as the kiss breaks. ❝ You were so,so good with her tonight, baby. It was hot.❞

❝ Watching you take control like that..❞ he mutters ❝ It was so fuckin hot, princess.. the way you were takin care of her…❞  and then he's carrying you down the hall. 

Your back hits the door of the bedroom you share with a soft thud. You wrap your legs around his waist as one of his hands settles on your thigh, squeezing as he melts into you, his face buried in your chest. You tug at his hair and rock into him, grinding against him. He’s panting, looking up at you breathless. 

❝ I wanna fuck a baby into you, princess.❞ he mumbles as he pushes open the door to the bedroom and steps in. The two of you are peeling each others clothing off in a rush, his mouth all over you as he drops you gently onto his bed and wastes no time parting your legs, pulling down your panties and pausing to suck a line of hickies right up the inside of your thighs. 

You're writhing beneath him, moaning his name like a prayer as he lowers his mouth, paused to gaze up at you as you slip your legs over his shoulders and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive sex has you tugging at handfuls of his hair and whining in need, rocking your hips up for him because you're that desperate for the way his tongue feels buried inside you.

Tonight is only the second night he'll have ever entered you raw and the more he thinks about the way your pussy will clamp around his thick cock too perfectly, the more he wants to bury it inside you.

❝ You’re gonna be such a..❞ he bites at your pelvic mound and his tongue drags a stripe right up the center of your dripping hot sex, ❝ –ah fuck..such a hot mom, princess.❞ his tongue buries inside you and your head falls back against his pillow as one hand pulls at his hair and the other one grips the blanket beneath your body. fingers join his tongue, pushing into you, stretching you out and you shiver at the way his tongue and fingers work together perfectly as your orgasm builds, almost to a blinding intensity.

❝ Just thinkin about it makes me wanna cream myself.❞ he pauses to look up, admire the way he has you poised on the edge, begging to shatter.

❝ Steve, baby, c'mon.❞ you choke out breathless,❝ Fuck me.❞

He can't wait another second. He raises up, licking his lips and groaning at the way he can taste you on his tongue. He lowers your legs, lowering himself down into you. He groans ❝ – fuck. oh fuck. you're so tight. ❞ quietly as he sinks in so slow you feel every single inch, every vein on his thick length. ❝ feels s' much fuckin better like this, princess.❞ he growls quietly,❝ y' so good. Good girl.❞ as he starts to fuck into you all over again, slow and relentless, your body pinned beneath his,❝ You’re gonna be s' full, fuck. ❞

❝ Steve, – oh fuck. Right there.❞ your nails drag down his back and he shivers at the way they feel, digging against his skin.❝ Don't stop, don't stopdontstop.❞ you're begging for it, desperate to feel him fill you full. You cling to him as your orgasm takes over, the fucked out look in your eyes has him laughing, husky against your ear, ❝ --fuck. Y' ready for it, princess?❞ as he melts down into you, his thrusts clumsy, the beat of his hips against your own nearly bruising as he fucks through his orgasm and comes undone, hot seed painting your insides. Dripping out until he starts to slowly fuck it back into you, his mouth latched against your neck.

He falls to the bed beside you and you roll onto your side, your face against his chest as he wraps his arm around you.

❝ Baby?❞ you break the silence after a few seconds.❝ Yeah?..❞ he asks, gazing down at you. ❝ Can we talk to child services about taking her in?❞ you ask after lying there a second or two, coming down from post-orgasm bliss.

He chuckles quietly. Smiling to himself in the darkness. ❝ I was already planning on it, princess. I can’t believe her mother just abandoned her like that.❞

❝ Me either.❞ you slip your leg over his hip and press a sleepy, sweet kiss against his lips as you snuggle against him. When you both slip out of bed at the same time, with the same idea - to go check on the little girl, the two of you share a quiet laugh. You follow Steve down the hall and out into the living room and watch as he scoops her up in his arms and you smile to yourself in the dark.

Steve Harrington is going to be an amazing father to your kids one day.

[lavelled]

homage to the mates.

Quick news: The Princess Kate cancer video, twirly amongst nature, is false, fake, and a lie. Musk wrote the impregnation tweet to deflect from September 11 because it was Harry. We don’t know why Muzzled Meg is with microphones galore—both consensually horrible?

Harry’s eponymous Catturd Twitter account represents family pedophilia. Google the identity, king-wise. Harry posts unwitty far-right extremism like curricula for monsters. Harry Windsor—cause of school shootings, school fires, stabbings, and suicides—is a fanboy right-winger with zero political views writing slop on the Internet to lighten the mood from kidnapping that upsets your teenagers. Kids know how he’s a swaddled coward in the UK, getting paid to theorize about my rape.

He has fun outside of wedlock. Dril or wint or cunty, the online account with a Jack Nicholson picture from the film, Something’s Gotta Give. This is Harry. In 2014, he wrote: i am selling six beautfiul, extremely ill, white horses. they no longer recognize me as their father, and are the Burden of my life.

google iitz.

In non-eloquent terms, a literary pedometer about his papa enslaving little girls and threatening the actor who was their actual pen pal. In case South Sudan needs a civil rights guest speaker.

A Netflix deal for a hired ventriloquist who, for six years, has deliberately helped a California-enemy sex trafficking violator. To dire results. Could nothing be worse?

As a briefcase model, in brassy copper orange, she opened suitcase Number 11 to reveal 5 dollars inside which the video titled, Meghan Markle Has the Case Deal or No Deal Game Show Network on YouTube details, years before she accompanied her playbook bunkmate to the ESPYs as he accepted an award honoring a fallen 9/11 hero.

She was cast in a wedding day prank, procreated with the contract holder, and deceived youths with the intentional spread of inaccurate information about race, gender inequality, and cyber bullying that she’s never been subjected to. H & Birthmark: You’re a psycho and she’s nowhere near a Cleopatra Malala Yousafzai.

Meanwhile, my female rights are gone and her captor husband says he wants to live in my attic. A reference I’ve learned is not about a cathedral roof hideaway, but the anatomy of a persecuted 15-year-old girl.

Grieving parents deserve more than implementing Flip and Frogmore Cottage as Mad Hatter tea techniques to denote that she’s the wrong milady.

Kids feel bad for someone. Guess who?

In Harry code, Rachel means: Rape-U-1st.

Divorce.

Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols, at 9:02 am, in a Ryder rental truck, bombed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City on April 19, 1995, killing 168 people because of Royal Pedophilia, Incorporated.

Tyler Hilinski—Quarterback at Washington State University was found with a gunshot wound to the head and a suicide note. 21-years-old. Four months before their wedding.

Jason Hairston—NFL player; founder and CEO of Kuiu, a hunting gear company. He was Department of the Interior liaison for hunting groups during the Trump administration. He killed himself at his home in Dixon, California. Four months after their wedding.

Jonathan Cantwell—Australian professional road bicycle racer; won a stage of the Herald Sun Tour and two stages of the Tour de Taiwan. He killed himself six months after their wedding.

Morgan Rodgers—lacrosse player at Duke University. Her mom, Dona, said she suffered a dream-shattering knee injury and on July 11, 2019, Morgan died by suicide. At 22.

Pavle Jovanovic—Olympian on the USA Bobsled team. He became a welder and hung himself in his metal shop on May 3, 2020.

Dieter Brummer—Australian actor on the soap operas, Home and Away and Neighbours. He killed himself in Glenhaven, New South Wales. July 24, 2021.

Terrence Butler—basketball star at Drexel University, studying Engineering. The 6-foot-7 forward from Prince George’s County, Maryland died by suicide on August 2, 2023.

Alec Musser—model and actor; played the role of Del Henry on All My Children. He died by self-inflicted gunshot wound in his Del Mar, California home on January 12, 2024.

K

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess Of All Saiyans

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Masterlist

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Hey guys! Chapter nine is here. And this one is a fun one. As always, I hope you enjoy. And if you have any comments or questions regarding this fic, feel free to let me know.

Also if you've been following this story for a while, then you'd know how inconsistent I am when I post chapters of this story. Sometimes it takes me two weeks to write another chapter, and other times it takes me an entire month. So if you're interested in being notified whenever I post a new chapter, you can join my tag list here.

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Chapter 9

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Vegeta and Raditz land simultaneously, both Saiyans carefully observing their surroundings. All of the Dragon Balls have remained in place, but that provides very little relief. There isn't a trace of your presence, not a footprint, not even a stray hair. "Y/N!" Raditz shouts at the top of his lungs. This was a severe mistake on his part. For his own sake, Raditz better hope the Ginyu force hasn't heard all of his commotion.

Vegeta paces back and forth, his hands knotted through his hair. "Relax, Vegeta. She couldn't have gotten far." Despite Raditz's calm words, his tone gives him away completely. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that he's just as anxious as Vegeta. 

Raditz's advice doesn't seem to calm down the prince even a little. In fact, he only seems to grow more distraught. "Raditz, you don't understand. I never disclosed the location of the Dragon Balls to her."

Raditz furrows his brows at the smaller Saiyan. "What the hell, Vegeta!" Never in his wildest dreams did Raditz ever imagine himself shouting at the prince. He didn't even notice that Gohan and Krillin had joined them. Hopefully, they've picked up bits and pieces of the conversation because neither Saiyan has the patience to deal with their idiocy at the moment. "Just--- What the fuck were you thinking?" Raditz doesn't understand. How can Vegeta go from ordering someone to stay glued to your side at all times to leaving you to fend for yourself on a foreign planet? It's only been a few weeks. How can he have gone through such a drastic change in such a short amount of time?

"If I knew the Ginyu Force was coming, do you think I would've left her alone!" Their bickering is doing nothing to help. In fact, it's probably making the situation worse.

"Alright. How about you both calm down." Krillin decides to jump in and play peacemaker. "Y/N seems more than capable of taking care of herself. We need to focus on the threat. We need to get this over with and summon the dragon before something bad happens."

Both Saiyans turn to the smaller earthling, glaring daggers at him. "Who gives a damn about immortality right now! You don't know the first thing about my sister! So don't stand there all high and mighty and act like you do." Krillin hit a nerve, but it wasn't just in Vegeta. 

The earthling wants to revive his friends, but there is something he doesn't understand about Raditz. You've been the faint speck of light in his otherwise shitty world, the only friend the Saiyan has ever had. Even though he stood with his brother, you're still a priority over the resurrection of a handful of puny earthlings. 

"Interesting to see where your priorities lie, Geta!" Your legs have been sticking out of your handcrafted shelter the entire time. It's funny to see what details people miss while they're in a state of panic. You lean forward, revealing yourself to the abnormal group. Now your entire body hangs off the mountain.

Four sets of eyes look up at you, all with varying responses present on their features. "Oh, thank god," Vegeta whispers, at an octave low enough only for him to hear. Raditz places a hand on his chest, sighing in relief as Vegeta's features contort in displeasure. "What did I tell you about pulling shit like this? Get your ass down here!"

You jump down, landing in front of the Dragon Balls. This ensures that you maintain a safe distance away from your brother just in case he decides to kill you. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

Vegeta's nostrils flare, complemented with his entire body shaking with rage. "You scared me half to death." You expected a lecture, but he's not even raising his voice. You may have freaked him out more than you originally intended.

Your lips curve upwards. "That sounds like a you problem, big brother." Something is particularly satisfying about throwing his own words in his face.

"I suppose I deserved that." His features soften. "I'm just relieved that you're alright."

Raditz walks over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Well, what did I do to deserve that scare?" 

"Collateral damage Raditz. Call it a happy accident."

"Enough of the chit-chat. Now let's---" Vegeta cuts himself off as you all lookup. You can sense the Ginyu Force, and they're heading straight for you. You grab Raditz, pulling him into the homemade cave. The others were facing the Dragon Balls. There would've been no time for them to get up here as well. Your higher altitude could be used to your advantage since you'll have the element of surprise. 

It's a bit cramped, but when you created the cave. You never expected to share the space with a Saiyan of Raditz's size. He takes up more space than you and Vegeta combined. You both watch the Ginyu Force land in front of a trembling Gohan, a frozen Krillin, and an aloof Vegeta. You really hope the Genius Force doesn't do those god-awful poses. You've already been traumatized enough for the week.

You decide to keep a close eye on Captain Ginyu, who is currently exchanging pleasantries with your brother. Well, as pleasant as it can get for two beings who are about to murder each other in cold blood. Followed by murmurings from various members of the Ginyu Force and Recoome's delayed laughter. "Just hand over the Dragon Balls, Vegeta. No need to make this any harder than it has to be." Vegeta's posture remains stiff. It's clear your brother isn't going to budge. Their little group is going to have to pry that orb from his dead body. "Come on, Vegeta, be a sport. We already have five." He gestures to the spheres behind him. That means Frieza will have five. Can you really trust those neanderthals to hold onto their Dragon Balls? No, you were raised to trust no one's capabilities but your own, not even Vegeta's. 

Jeice looks around, his green eyes scanning around the area. "Where's that gorgeous sister of yours, Vegeta?"

Vegeta glares at the red man. "Even if my sister was here. I doubt she'd be interested, Jeice. I mean, she never has been." Oh, your brother knows all about your history with the mutant Brench-seijin. He's overly flirty, and you reject him. It was a vicious never-ending cycle. If Vegeta had no self-control, he would've murdered him years ago for even looking in your direction. In his eyes, Jeice is unworthy of a woman of your status.

"Well, with Raditz out of the picture, there's no chance for Saiyan offspring. So I figured I'd shoot my shot." You cringe. You're not sure which idea is more repulsive, a relationship with Jeice or procreating with Raditz.

"Even if you were the last man in the universe. My sister wouldn't so much as glance in your direction." Vegeta and Jeice continue going back and forth as an idea pops in your head. This may be your only opportunity to get your hands on a Dragon Ball. You're only chance to put a fork in Frieza's plans for immortality. 

You silently climb out of the cave, dropping to the ground. The others can unmistakably see you, but they make no expressions alerting the Ginyu Force of your presence. You grab the closest orb before promptly flying back to the cave. Call this your insurance policy for when Krillin and Vegeta ultimately screw up. You escaped that entirely undetected. Is the term elite just thrown around loosely in the Frieza Force? Because that's what you're starting to think.

You hand the Dragon Ball to Raditz, directing your gaze back outside. "Those scouters of yours can't detect Dragon Balls, can they?" It was a rhetorical question. Vegeta knows they don't have that type of technology yet. You know how your brother thinks, and this is a faulty plan on his part. "Then you lose!" Vegeta pivots, launching the ball at an alarming speed. It would be a fatal blow to the head if it hit someone. 

Burter takes off, chasing after the orb. He flips in the air, catching the ball with ease. You swear, Vegeta can be such a dumbass sometimes. He knows Burter rivals you in speed. He may even be a bit faster than you.  

You shake your head, turning to Raditz, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Here's the plan. When I formulate a distraction, you're going to take the Dragon Ball and get the hell out of here. And Raditz, go hide the damn thing, somewhere no one will find it." He grins from ear to ear, causing you to glare at him. You know how this moron thinks by now. "And do not hide it with that Earth woman. That will just get her killed."

"What if that's my intention?"

"I don't think little brother Kakarot would be very pleased with you, but it's your call." You stand in silence for a moment, your piercing gaze lingering on the Saiyan. "Though, I can assure you. If Frieza gets his hands on that Dragon Ball. I'll kill you. In the most graphic and painful way, I can imagine." He gulps nervously, rapidly shaking his head in understanding. To Raditz, you're the only life form that can still sound menacing while whispering. 

You revert your vision back to the little gathering outside. And as you assumed, Krillin lost his Dragon Ball as well. Ginyu decides to take Vegeta for himself, which doesn't go over well with his team. They're acting like a bunch of children. It's almost comical. "Fine." The Captain sighs. "I'll take the Dragon Balls back to Lord Frieza. You all can sort this out amongst yourselves." They chant Ginyu's name a few times. They kinda remind you of a cult.

The four lower members of the Ginyu force move to stand in a circle. "So the winner gets Vegeta. And for second place---" Guldo is cut off by Recoome.

"The rest. Make the two runts a set. Together they'll be more equal to Vegeta." Oh, that can't be going over well with your brother. The fact that Recoome would declare that those two are his equals must be sending his blood pressure through the roof. 

They begin playing rock paper scissors. This must be how they decide their battles. It's like a game to them. Every single match ends in a draw. At this rate, you could be stuck up here forever. 

You doze off until you hear Recoome cheering. The endless match must have finally ceased. "Ya! I get Vegeta!" Fate can be an amusing thing sometimes. Vegeta must be ecstatic, getting to show the moron just how much stronger he is than those pathetic runts. 

"Of course, I'm stuck with the runts." Guldo wines. He's the last creature who should be referring to anyone as a runt. You could squash that little freak like a bug.

Ginyu approaches the Dragon Balls, picking them up with his telekinesis. He counts them before snapping his head toward the dumbest member of the Ginyu Force. "Recoome! There's only four here!"

Recoome scratches the back of his neck, that classic confused look on his face. "I'm sorry, Captain Ginyu. I thought I counted five."

Jeice turns to his superior. "I told you we shouldn't have trusted him with counting the Dragon Balls."

The Captain takes a deep breath, attempting to keep his composure. "It doesn't matter. I'll search for the missing Dragon Ball. It's probably with Y/N anyway." He takes off, heading in the direction of Frieza's ship. Well, that takes out your major concern. The others are child's play compared to Ginyu.

You pay minimum attention to Guldo's battle with Krillin and Gohan. You're more focused on finding an opening for a distraction. You begin to notice significant holes in their fight. Guldo will be in one area and then magically appear in another, and he's not teleporting. If he was, you would've been able to track his movements. Could the rumors about that green freak be true? Can he really pause time? They must be. That's the only feasible explanation. So under the assumption that Guldo can stop time, the earthlings don't even stand a chance. No matter what they do, that four-eyed freak will always remain one step ahead of them. 

You do, however, pick up on something. Guldo appears to hold his breath before every skip in time. That must be a limitation in his abilities to pause time. So if those two can somehow prevent him from holding his breath, they should be able to best him. You know what, scratch that. Those two probably haven't picked up on his abnormal behaviors.

Though, the earthlings do appear to have the advantage at the moment. And the rest of the Ginyu Force won't let Guldo forget it. They're heckling him so loud that you can hear them clearly from all the way up here. Guldo's kinda like the Raditz of the group, just a lot less respected. 

Guldo tosses the pair up into the air as a strange yellow light surrounds them. He's claiming it's a paralysis attack. That doesn't sound good for the earthlings. 

Krillin and Gohan struggle almost as if they were trapped in invisible bindings. As far as you can tell, they're immobile. If Guldo felt the need to resort to such dire tactics, he must think that he can't take out the pair any other way. So when the earthling and the half-breed combine their strength, they're mightier than Guldo. That's quite impressive considering how weak they were back on Earth.

"Now I'm gonna show you what happens when you embarrass me in front of the boys." You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palms, as you watch Guldo intently. As much as you hate to admit it, you're going to need those two runts. So if Guldo were to kill them, it would be very unfavorable. He uses another mind trick to pull a tree from the ground, using the bottom end as a makeshift spear. He points the weapon at the pair, taunting them. He's gonna impale them with a fucking stick. What a pathetic way to go.

You do wonder why Vegeta hasn't intervened yet. He's never played by their rules before. So what's stopping him now? Your brother may simply believe that Gohan and Krillin deserve to die. For not adhering to his warning regarding the weakest link of the Ginyu Force. It's not below Vegeta to be that petty. You can't blame him though, those two fools have no sense of self-control.

The slimy green creature's obnoxious cackling invades your ears. Honestly, Guldo's just pissing you off more than he was before.

Amidst the chaos, you jump out of the cave, flying a bit to distance yourself from suspicion. You shoot a purple beam at Guldo, efficiently decapitating him. Raditz seems to have gotten the message since he checked out with the Dragon Ball sometime during the commotion. He better hide that thing somewhere safe because his life depends on it.

"Did you really think I'd let a creature as pathetic as Guldo kill anything with a drop of Saiyan blood!" Your voice booms causing all eyes to land on you. You place a hand on your chest, fixating your gaze on the Ginyu Force. "I'm hurt that you didn't include me in your little game."

"Oh, our apologies Y/N." Jeice's thick accent invades your ears. "We should have assumed. Wherever Vegeta is, you're always somewhere nearby."

You swear you can hear faint grumbling. You just can't quite locate the source. Your eyes scan over the ground until you discover the origin of the sound. Long story short, it was Guldo's severed head. So his species can survive decapitation, good to know. "Defeated by a damn Saiyan. And the weaker one at that." You could run circles around that little freak. If you went head to head, he wouldn't even be considered a challenge. Guldo's giving himself far too much credit.

Vegeta chuckles darkly. "Well, don't worry." He strides over to the talking head. "You won't have to deal with that shame for long." Vegeta finishes the job, eliminating that embarrassment of the group of supposed elite warriors. 

The three remaining members complain about Guldo's demise, but it's not for the reason you may think. They're more upset about the impact his absence will have on their ridiculous pose. You wish you could say you were surprised, but you've known those idiots far too long to believe anything else.

The half-breed and earthling walk over to you, identical expressions of gratitude apparent on their faces. "We owe you one, Y/N." You roll your eyes at Krillin. It was a simple business decision. And it was nothing more than that. 

Gohan nods in agreement. "Ya, thanks." You cringe at his gratitude. Why are they thanking you? You killed Guldo for your own selfish reasons.

"Your lives had nothing to do with it." Well, at least Krillin's. If Guldo did kill the half-breed, it would've been an embarrassment to your entire race in hell. "I needed a distraction. I saw an opportunity."

"She's right, so pull yourselves together. Your lives are incredibly insignificant to us." Vegeta's lying. Your brother knows you need them. He's just far too prideful to admit it.

Burter turns to Jeice, morphing his hands to prepare for another excruciating match of rock paper scissors. "Alright, Jeice. Winner gets the Princess, and the loser gets stuck with the two runts."

Jeice shakes his head. "No, Y/N's all yours." He turns to you, his green eyes meeting your own. "I could never lay a hand on a lady as fine as the Princess." You suppress a gag, deciding to keep your mouth shut. If you were to respond, there's a good chance you could end up fighting both of them.

Burter furrows his brows at his comrade. "Are you sure?"

"Ya, go crazy, Burter." It's actually a reasonable match-up. You and Burter both have incredible speed. I guess you'll finally find out who's faster.

Now with Guldo out of the picture, it's Recoome's turn to fight Vegeta. He reminds you a bit of Nappa. Since he lacks any form of self-control. His punches at your brother are erratic. He even almost hits you, Krillin, and Gohan several times. If Recoome were to hit Krillin with that kind of force, there's no doubt in your mind that it would be a fatal blow.

"Don't go killin them all yourself!" Jeice is second in command to Ginyu, so his authority over Recoome makes sense. "I get the two runts, and Burter get's the Princess of the monkeys." One minute Jeice is flirting with you. The next, he's demeaning you. Talk about mixed signals.

You watch Recoome and Vegeta trade punches, and it's starting to lack any value of entertainment. Vegeta's covered in blood while Recoome's armor is chipped, and he's now missing tufts of hair.

You begin to grow impatient. This will be the first time you've been challenged in a while. "Yo, Burter! Let's just get this over with now. We'll make this battle a double feature." 

"Fine with me." The two of you distance yourselves from Recoome and Vegeta, commencing your battle as well.

Their gazes flicker back and forth between both battles. They were so enthralled in the action that neither Gohan nor Krillin noticed that Raditz had joined them. 

Gohan and Krillin stick to the sidelines. They're in no hurry to fight Jeice. Even though he's significantly smaller than Recoome and Burter, Krillin doesn't think Jeice's smaller size will give them any sort of advantage. 

"Raditz?" Jeice looks far from pleased. He's always been jealous of the Saiyan. Not for his strength, rather the envy stems from Raditz's luscious mane of hair. It took Jeice several years to grow his hair to an adequate length, while that fool was born with that full head of hair. Raditz meets his gaze, an arrogant smirk overtaking his features. As he waves at the green-eyed man mockingly. "But--- Y/N said you ran off!"

Mid-battle, you turn to Jeice. Without even looking, you still manage to keep up with Burter. "I'm a compulsive liar, Jeice! It's a nasty habit."

Jeice huffs, crossing his arms at the largest Saiyan. "Raditz is mine. I'm throwing him in with the two runts." A chuckle escapes your lips. He's underestimating what the three of them could accomplish together. Jeice is letting his own petty feelings cloud his judgment. How arrogant.

Krillin's brows furrow as his eyes linger on you. There's something that isn't quite adding up. He turns to Raditz and Gohan, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Hey, guys. I've been thinking about something. Remember back on Earth how Vegeta said that Saiyans get stronger after battle. Well, Vegeta's gotten stronger after several fights, but do you see Y/N? She's still able to effortlessly keep up. Even though she's barely lifted a finger. How is that possible?" The earthling's eyes widen as the gears begin to shift in his head. "Unless. Is she stronger---"

Raditz's hand covers Krillin's mouth, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper. "Silence, you earthling. Keep that big mouth of yours shut."

Krillin's teeth sink into his captor's hand, successfully freeing himself from the Saiyan's clutches. Several muffled phrases of obscenity escape Raditz's lips as he rapidly shakes his hand in an attempt to soothe the pain. "She is. Isn't she?" The look on Raditz's face told Krillin all he needed to know. "But you knew that already, and I bet you know why too. I wonder how Vegeta would feel about this?" His last sentence was clearly a passive-aggressive threat toward both you and Raditz. The earthling wouldn't be dumb enough to follow through with that threat, would he?

Raditz scowls at Krillin. How dare this pathetic little weasel attempt to threaten him. "Not a word to Vegeta. If you value your life. I'd stop talking now. Vegeta doesn't know, and it would be very unfavorable if he found out, for all of us." His tone shifts, his eyes flashing with vulnerability. "Something bad happened to us as children, and Vegeta still doesn't know about it." He returns to his menacing demeanor, your shared childhood trauma getting pushed to the back of his mind becoming yet again a distant memory. "So you will stop your absurd thoughts now. Or I can assure you. The second you resurrect your feeble friends, I will single-handedly slaughter them, and then you will follow." Krillin gulps, nodding in fear. He better pray Vegeta heard none of their conversations because he has a feeling Raditz will stick to his word.

Raditz thinks he knows all your secrets, but he's only aware of the tip of the iceberg. Below the surface lies pain and suffering the older Saiyan could never imagine from you. You keep these secrets to protect him, to protect Vegeta, and most importantly, to protect yourself. But if either of them were to find out the truth, your life as you know it would come crashing down. If they were to find out your greatest shame, your pride would be in shambles, and they would know the truth. You're just a weak Saiyan who's an embarrassment to her family name.

You're not exactly sure how much time has passed. You've completely blocked out the entirety of your surroundings, remaining focused on your battle with Burter. You can't joke around as you did back on Earth. There's no room for error today.

The two of you take turns beating the absolute hell out of each other. If you keep this up, there will be no end to this anytime soon. You shriek, spiking up your energy substantially. Burter's eyes bug out as his scouter explodes. Those pieces of junk are really no match to this energy-sensing technique. 

Even though you've blocked out your surroundings, you know the two of you have moved a significant distance away from the others. You could even be on the other side of the planet by now. In the back of your mind, you can't help but worry about your brother especially, now that you're so far away. Recoome may be an idiot, but he's a strong one. You have to remain focused. You can't help Vegeta if you don't help yourself first.

You begin to get the edge over Burter. Now he's attempting to block your attacks, but due to his large size, he's failing horribly. A couple more blows, and you'll finally be able to knock him down. You've taken down guys much larger than Burter, creatures who were triple his size. 

Over the years, you've learned to use your smaller size to your advantage. Making your opponent's sheer size more of a nuisance than a strength. Burter begins to struggle further. He's now barely able to keep up with you. "I'm the fastest being in the universe! How can one of you monkeys be faster than me?" You scowl at him, finding no humor in his statement as rage boils inside of you. 

Unknown to you, you and Burter aren't alone. Goku has been watching your battle in awe for quite some time now. He knows he should've left to find the others, but he just couldn't help it. He can't take his eyes off of you. This is the first time he's seen you fight, and you're much stronger than the Earthbound Saiyan believed.

Your fists clench as your entire body convulses in rage. It's not often you'll lose your temper like this. Goku swears that he saw your irises flash a shade of red. He rubs his eyes, glancing back at you. Your eyes have returned to normal. Maybe Goku is just seeing things. If you knew someone was watching, you would've kept your temper in check. 

Burter sends a blast of your energy your way. Which you dodge by teleporting behind him. You use all of your body weight to knock him down to the ground. You won't mock him like you typically do after defeating a foe. You won't take the chance of giving him an opening to strike back. In the palm of your hand, you create an orb of energy, disintegrating his head. Successfully, taking out your second member of the great Ginyu Force.

You fall to your knees, desperately gasping for air, before grabbing your side, wincing in excruciating pain. Damn, Burter must have nicked you good. You look to your side, noticing just how much blood has leaked through your armor. This is gonna be an issue, though you've fought through worse. You stand back up to check your body for any further damage. There seems to be no other physical damage to your form. Your armor is a bit ripped, though. 

"Wow! You're really strong." You gasp, moving your fist, aiming it at whoever is in front of you. They swiftly catch your fist, preventing you from attacking. Their grip is secure enough to stop you from escaping, yet at the same time pleasantly gentle.

You move your gaze upwards, finally gathering the courage to look them in the eye. Your brows furrow as Goku's dumb face enters your field of vision. "God, Kakarot! When the hell did you get here?" You shake yourself out of his grasp, taking a few steps back, putting some distance between you two.

"A while ago." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I got distracted by your fight." So he was observing you the whole time. Why does that make you feel incredibly self-conscious?

"Of course you did." You sigh, moving several strands of hair out of your face. Goku steps closer to you, bringing his hand to meet your forehead. It's so big that it takes up the entirety of your forehead and even the top of your head. "Kakarot. What the hell are you doing?"

"Just be quiet for a second." It's official. Goku has lost what was left of his mind. "So it is true. You guys are working together. And that Frieza guy is a much bigger deal than I thought." How does he know about all of that? And why is he still touching you?

You slap his arm, convincing him to remove his hand. "And why's that?"

"Because you're afraid of him."

Your face flushes. "I'm not scared of Frieza. I'm not afraid of anything." Your cross your arm, averting his gaze.

"Yes, you are." He pouts. "I saw it." Kakarot saw it? How the hell--- Did Kakarot acquire the ability to read thoughts? Is that even possible?

You decide to divert his mind from his accusations. Knowing Kakaort, that shouldn't be hard at all. "Since when can you read minds?"

He rubs his chin, lost deep in thought. "I don't know--- I just had a feeling."

"Well, let's go. And new rule." You bring your hand up, pointing your index finger at the buffoon. "Stay out of my thoughts!"

He holds up his hands in surrender, nodding. "Are we gonna go find that Captain Ginyu guy?"

"No. We have to go make sure that Recoome and Jeice haven't killed the others first. Don't bite off more than you can chew." Goku has this aura around him. You can tell he's gotten stronger. He just needs to learn how to get his priorities in order.

Okay. All you have to do is pin down someone's energy. There are at least four sources to choose from, so this should be fairly simple. You shut your eyes. This should help you concentrate adequately. 

"Ohh, what's that?"

Your head snaps toward Goku. "What?" You swear the man has an attention span equivalent of an insect.

He bends down, observing the ground intently. "It's like a green string."

"A green--- Kakarot! Don't!" But you were too late. He's already yanked the tripwire.

The ground concaves beneath you, causing you to lose your footing as the two of you fall down into the pit. You fall on top of Goku. Unintentionally straddling the Saiyan. And if you thought this situation couldn't get any more awkward, you'd be wrong. Goku's arms are wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place. Your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. And your face feels like it's been set aflame. As your eyes lock, your face only turns a deeper shade of crimson. "D-Don't touch me!" You're stuttering. What the hell is happening to you?

His brows furrow. "You're the one who fell on top of me!"

"It's not my fault." His classic pout spreads across his lips. "How was I supposed to know that the ground would collapse?" 

"W-Well, you're the reason we're in this mess!" You stand up, wanting to get as far away from Goku as possible. You don't like the way you feel around him. The only time your pulse should be racing like this is during combat.

"Well, it wouldn't be called a trap if you could see it!"

"I don't get why you're so mad. Can't we just fly out?"

You snicker as your lips curve upward. "Give it a shot, Kakarot." You know it won't work, but at least his failures will provide you with some quality entertainment. It would be a pretty pathetic trap if you could simply fly out. Goku flies up, slamming his head on the invisible barrier. You break out into a fit of laughter as he falls back down. Goku jumps back up, rubbing the back of his head. "Ouch. Did you know that would happen?" Your giggling dies down as Goku begins looking around the hole. "How did this place even get here? Is this Frieza's work?"

"No. It's definitely the work of the Namekians. Frieza wouldn't be able to formulate something so elaborate in the amount of time he's had. Besides that dictator never does any of his own dirty work."

"Well, let's just sit back and relax. I'm sure we'll be fine. Someone will have to find us eventually." He has such a laid-back attitude. Maybe another alien baby crash-landed on Earth. Because with every second that passes, you're finding it harder to believe that Goku has Saiyan ancestry. 

"Oh, ya, let's just relax." You mock him. "While the others are probably getting chopped up into little pieces by the remnants of the Ginyu Force as we speak!"

"Why are you always so negative?" Is he serious? Do you have to spell out why this is potentially a very dire situation? You'd think he would show more concern for his son.

Your hands meet the sides of your head. You're practically yanking your hair out at this point. To say you're frustrated would be an understatement. "God, why am I constantly getting trapped in enclosed spaces with your idiotic bloodline! First, it was your spawn, then it was your moronic brother, and now I'm stuck with you. And you're somehow the worst of them all!" Goku just stands in front of you like a statue with that goofy smile plastered on his face. "And stop smiling when I yell at you!" 

Being stuck down here with Kakarot will be the ultimate test of your willpower----

-

Will the others make it to Y/N and Goku in time? Or will Y/N kill Goku before they even get the chance? Find out in the next chapter of The Princess of All Saiyans!

[ceratonia-siliqua]

Sweeter Than Sugar (Ch 4)

Collab fic with @send-me-your-hcs

Summary: Tony is a man of refinement. Only the best, the highest quality specimens get added to his collection. Peter, a beautiful and very rare male omega, quickly becomes his favorite of all his pets. The perfect omega deserves an equally-perfect alpha. (Or: An a/b/o au where pet owner!Tony forcibly mates Peter and Bucky together for his own enjoyment.)

Warnings: Underage, noncon, a/b/o au, dark!Tony, confinement, forced pet play dynamics, forced mating/in heat cycles, forced daddy kink, forced feminization, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

. . . .

Peter is the perfect picture of obedience after that day.

He’s still shy, of course. He’ll probably always be shy. But now, when Tony enters the boy’s kennel, he doesn’t need to use the leash to drag Peter towards him, or snap his fingers to beckon Peter to come kneel at his feet. Peter is wary of him, that much is obvious, but he seems to have finally made the connection that his quality of life drastically improves each time he shows his Daddy the proper respect and affection.

Having a mate to use as leverage just makes everything easier.

Peter seems to already be head-over-heels for his beefy alpha. Tony can’t help but wonder how much of that love is chemically-induced, a biological function honed after millions of years of evolution to ensure successfully-mated pairs stay together and procreate, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy’s affections are genuine. He studies the pair closely when they’re together, and Bucky is…

Bucky is a dream.

The alpha is absolutely smitten. Ridiculously, almost unbelievably soft with Tony’s princess. Every one of their interactions is peppered in little acts of love that make Tony’s heart melt.

Bucky, for instance, never eats first whenever he and Peter are fed together, despite that being an evolutionary instinct bred into most alphas. They are the protectors, the providers, the hunters – they need the most food, need to refuel often to keep their energy up, to keep their packs safe, unless of course their omega is pregnant. Bucky, however, won’t even look at the food that is brought to them until Peter has eaten first, as if he’s concerned Tony isn’t feeding his favorite pet enough throughout the day.

He’ll hand-feed his little omega so tenderly, Peter tucked into his lap, often impaled on his long dick. Peter is so short compared to his tall alpha; even in his lap, the top of his head only barely brushes Bucky’s throat, his soft curls tickling the underside of Bucky’s jaw, tucked beneath his chin like Tony built them in his lab to fit together.

Sometimes he feels like he did. The pair are a match made in heaven; Peter, soft and sweet and shy, but hiding a pair of claws sharp enough to draw blood if backed into a corner. Small and unspeakably cute, with fair, feminine features and a lithe body just begging for corruption.

The polar opposite to Bucky, whose hard-shelled exterior is rough, brutish and foreboding, a human weapon on the outside, but inside, apparently the alpha is hiding a tender heart so full of love he can’t keep it all inside now that Peter has cracked his shell. Huge, hulking muscles cover every inch of his imposing body, a body capable of doing great harm, tempered by the love he clearly feels for his smaller mate.

They are a sight to behold, and oh, Tony beholds them often. He’s generous enough to let them stay together most days, but Peter is still new to his collection, and he has to be careful to make sure the boy doesn’t forget who must always remain first in his heart. To remind him, he keeps the boy upstairs with him in his penthouse for the better part of each day, making Peter earn it if he wants to spend the evenings with his alpha.

He’s not cruel about it. He doesn’t ask for anything terrible, doesn’t make Peter do anything that would infringe upon his mating bond with Bucky. He does, however – as he does with all his pets – insist upon a certain amount of physical affection from Peter that the boy has, until now, almost completely denied him.

He’s much more handsy. In the mornings, he’ll bring Peter his breakfast and pet the boy’s hair as he sits at his little table, eating from his pet bowls. Peter still grips the dishes with both hands, holding them as if he could lift them to his mouth, seemingly unable to accept that they’re magnetically stuck to the tabletop, requiring him to bend over and eat from them like the pretty little pet he is. Peter used to flinch away and refuse to eat with Tony in the room, but now, the boy obediently slurps and consumes his meal while Tony plays with his hair, petting him and stroking down his back with soft, gentle hands.

As a thank-you for each meal, Tony expectantly bends down so Peter can kiss his cheek and mutter a soft, “Thank you, Daddy,” in his sweet little voice. Sometimes he’ll ruffle the boy’s hair in return, other times he’ll kiss the back of the boy’s hand, letting his lips linger on that supple skin. It’s all about exposure. Peter needs to get used to being touched and handled by him, until it’s as natural as being touched and handled by Bucky.

Post-meal cuddles become a daily occurrence. Once Peter has polished off his dishes, Tony takes a seat on his plush pet bed, patting his lap and beckoning the boy over to him. Peter is shy about it, but he doesn’t refuse. He knows better by now. Tony only had to – lightly, mind you – threaten him once after the boy’s punishment.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he had said, voice even, gaze locked on Peter’s worried frown. “Don’t keep Daddy waiting. Don’t you want to see your alpha tonight? Daddy would hate to have to arrange another playdate like the one you had last time.”

That was all it took to make Peter scurry forward on his knees, crawling into Tony’s lap with a level of terrified desperation that made the man smile. Since then, Peter hasn’t needed any reminders – all Tony has to do is pat his thighs, and the boy obediently crawls forward, making himself at home in his Daddy’s lap right where he belongs.

Tony cuddles him long and lovingly after each meal. He’ll trail soft, tender hands over the boy’s thighs, his hips, his sides, his shoulders, arms, neck, hair. He’ll place gentle kisses everywhere his lips can reach, smiling when Peter shivers and shifts in his lap. He wonders what he smells like to a mated omega like Peter. As a beta, does he even have any scent at all? Is it threatening the way another alpha’s would be, or repulsive due to their biological incompatibility? Does Peter have to sit there and endure the scent of someone who isn’t his mate touching him, or does the lack of any scent at all remind him that Tony is not a threat to his bond, but his loving owner who gave it to him in the first place?

He doesn’t know which he prefers.

After a full week of Peter being the most gentle, the most sweet, the most perfectly obedient little pet Tony could ask for, he decides a special treat is due. Peter still needs time to realize that Tony is a loving, generous owner when his pets have pleased him, and oh, Peter has pleased him very much over the last seven days.

After the boy’s lunch, Tony sits on Peter’s princess bed, smiling as the boy straddles his lap without being asked first. Greedy little thing, plopping into Tony’s lap like he belongs there. Tony grins and gives the boy a tender kiss on his forehead, his hands brushing over Peter’s sleek metal collar, feeling that lithe body tense and quiver beneath his fingertips.

“Easy, my love,” he soothes. His thumb brushes over the fingerprint scanner – not the shock-inducer on the right, the other one, on the left – and Peter’s chain pops free from the ring at the back of his collar with a gentle click. “Daddy has a surprise for you.”

Peter eyes him warily. The only place he’s been brought so far outside of his kennel has been Bucky’s cell, and each time, the chain stayed firmly attached. Tony hasn’t removed it once since he first brought Peter home. He can tell the unfamiliarity makes apprehensive anxiety storm inside of his princess’s tiny body, and the thought of that makes his heart clench, makes him lean forward and pepper Peter’s soft eyelids with gentle kisses.

“Don’t be frightened, my sweet, beautiful boy,” he says. “This is a reward for being such a good boy for your Daddy all week. Come along.” He hoists Peter into his arms, bridal style, carrying him through the door JARVIS so graciously opens.

He’s wanted to lounge with Peter in his lavish living room for weeks, now, and the ability to finally do so makes him giddy. He smiles at how Peter’s wide-eyed gaze instantly fixates on the glass wall, peering into his own cell from the other side for the very first time. He takes in every detail, every personalized touch, not bothering to spare the rest of the room around them so much as a glance as Tony settles in on his favorite armchair, Peter nestled firmly in his lap.

Peter gives him a sweet, uncertain glance when Tony pets the boy’s naked flank.

“Do you like it?” he asks softly. His other hand comes up and plays with the bow and bell decorating the front of Peter’s slim collar. “Daddy made it just for you, princess.”

Peter glances at his cell again. Tony can tell something about his choice in décor offends him – most likely the pastel pinks and whites, the princess theme, the overly-feminine style. He suspects Peter’s been talked down to and feminized his entire life for being unlucky enough to be born such a rare, endangered gender. He wonders if anyone has ever celebrated his masculinity in a positive, nonsexual way in the boy’s entire, very short life. He doubts it.

But Peter is his good, wonderful, perfectly obedient boy, so he nods his pretty little head and softly says, “Yes Daddy, thank you,” in a tone sweet enough for Tony to overlook the obvious lie.

“I’m glad,” he says, smiling and pecking Peter on the cheek. “Get comfy, baby, you’re going to help Daddy do some shopping today.”

Peter gives him a confused look as he’s turned, sitting with his back to Tony’s chest, relaxing as best he can in the bigger man’s lap. Tony settles in against the back of his chair and parts Peter’s legs over his thighs, loving how they’re so short, Peter’s feet don’t have a hope in hell of touching the floor. He kisses the crown of Peter’s head and picks up his tablet, holding it in front of both of them so Peter can see it as he turns on the screen.

It opens to the page Tony saved earlier; a catalogue of custom alpha cock covers. Peter sucks in a shocked breath and wiggles, excited or uncomfortable, it’s too hard to tell without seeing the boy’s face. Tony hugs him a little tighter and starts scrolling through the wide selection of items on offer as he explains, “This is your surprise, baby. For being such a good boy for me, Daddy’s going to buy you and Bucky a fun toy to play with. I know sometimes you want to be knotted without making such a mess, and that’s where these come in handy.”

He can practically feel Peter’s temperature spiking a hundred degrees as he taps on one of the covers, opening a new page that displays the item up-close, along with all its details and features.

“These are custom-made covers that some bonded pairs use to prevent pregnancy. They slip right over the head – see? Some go all the way down, some are made tight enough to keep an alpha from knotting. These ones stretch at the bottom, see that? They go right over the alpha’s knot so he can still fit it inside. Some even have a strap that goes behind the balls, but, well. Poor Bucky’s balls are just too big to fit something like that, I’m afraid.” He kisses Peter’s head again, swiping left to return to the catalogue. “You’re going to pick whichever one you want.”

Peter squirms in his lap. He doesn’t take or touch the pad, seemingly frozen. “They…” he says at last, timid, frightened. “They all…um. They all look too small, Daddy. I don’t want…if it’ll hurt Bucky, I…I don’t…”

The poor thing is scared senseless. Tony chuckles softly and hugs him, cooing instantly. “Oh, baby, my darling boy, no, you needn’t worry about that. They make each one custom based on the alpha’s size. When we order one, Daddy will send in Bucky’s exact measurements to make sure they make it comfortable and pain-free. This is a reward, okay? For being so good for me. It’s not going to hurt either of you.”

His heart melts when Peter sags with relief, perhaps the most relaxed he’s ever been in Tony’s arms. “Thank you, Daddy,” he says, genuinely grateful. “I, um. I get to pick?”

Tony grins and nuzzles the back of his princess’s neck. God, he loves him. He loves him so much. “You get to pick, sweetheart.” He hands the boy the tablet, using his now-free hands to hug and hold him tight. “Whichever one you want. Go on.”

Peter mumbles another quiet thank you as he scrolls through the selection. The tips of his ears are red where they stick through his dark, chocolatey curls. Tony shamelessly buries his face in his hair and scents those soft, bouncy curls, loving the flowery scent of Peter’s specialized shampoo. He’s glad that Peter doesn’t seem to be trying to figure out how to minimize the shopping catalogue so he can make a call or send a message – not that Tony left those features enabled, mind you. Peter has no chance of asking anyone for help, but he’s proud the boy doesn’t even think to try.

They sit together for the better part of an hour while Peter browses through the different covers on offer. He seems to take his job very seriously. Tony loves that he seems to deliberate only on covers that have dual-pleasure-enhancing features; covers with ridges both inside and out, covers that vibrate, that have increased suction for the alpha’s pleasure and increased size, length and girth for the omega’s. Peter instantly dismisses every cover that is designed to only pleasure the omega partner, and the sweetness of that absolutely warms Tony’s heart.

In the end, Peter chooses a modest but very well-designed cover with all the bells and whistles. It’s a shorter model, only 14” compared to the standard 16”, with a stretch base designed to comfortably squeeze the alpha’s knot, bumps on the outside to increase the omega’s pleasure, suction inside to increase the alpha’s, and an extra inch of girth to ensure maximum fulfillment. Peter blushes as he adds the item to their cart, selecting the desired cover in a pale blue shade that Tony notices matches Bucky’s eyes.

God, his pets are so painfully cute.

“Got the one you wanted, baby?” he asks gently. Peter nods and hands the tablet back, so that Tony can enter Bucky’s exact measurements – memorized long ago, thank you very much – and finalize the order. He makes sure to pay for same-day shipping, grinning at the thought of the look on Bucky’s face when Peter shyly hands it to him that night.

“Good job, little one, you picked a very nice cover for your alpha,” he praises, smiling as Peter blushes adorably. “I’m sure Bucky will absolutely love it.”

Peter squirms, embarrassed. “I hope so…”

“I know he will.” Tony gently turns the boy in his lap, encouraging Peter to face him, loving the sight of that red, humiliated face. “Now. What do you say to Daddy for buying you such a nice gift, princess?”

Peter shyly glances up at him, but doesn’t hesitate. He places both hands on his shoulders, whispers, “Thank you for my nice gift, Daddy,” and leans up to kiss him gently on the cheek.

Tony smiles, cups the back of the boy’s head and pulls him in close. “Anything for you, kitten,” he says, holding Peter’s head absolutely still as he presses their lips together, swallowing the surprised whimper Peter makes, drinking the sound down greedily as Peter lets him cross whatever line his Daddy wants.

A very good boy, indeed.

—

The way Peter moves is nothing short of artful. Even with the shy, unsure way he takes his steps, the look of wariness in his eyes, he always moves like every motion is a piece of a greater work. As though everything good and humble and kind is contained within his body and needs to be released into the air for the rest of the world to be a part of.

When Tony hands the boy the cock cover to give to his alpha, he wasn’t expecting to be so captivated by mere movement. His baby holds it carefully, like it’s fragile, and not a piece of platinum silicone meant to withstand a knot twice Bucky’s size comfortably. Tracing every ridge like he’ll need to remember it later, Peter is fixated on the toy. It’s the only object he’s ever seen the omega react to like this, like he doesn’t believe it’s real.

He takes Peter down to the basement, carrying his princess like the precious cargo he is, nose turned into those soft, perky curls as he takes them to Peter’s mate for their reward. His darling boy was an absolute sweetheart today. Letting Tony kiss him and pet his skin, especially over his plump little cheeks. He didn’t slip Peter any tongue, or fuck his fingers into Peter. Though… the thought does occur to him that, after this mammoth of a cock cover slips into Peter, there may be room enough for a fist inside that sweet pussy of his.

Peter’s hand is small enough that his tiny fist can wear the piece as a glove, it is utterly massive for such a small thing. It has to be rigid in order for the nubs to work as intended, but Peter keeps pushing along the center of the hollowed out toy to test its give. It folds with some resistance, but not a terrible amount, just enough so as not to collapse in on itself. It pops right back into shape when Peter releases his thumbs. The omega blushes when he realizes Daddy is watching, ceasing to toy with the sleeve in his lap.

Laid next to Peter’s cock, it really is a sight. Even hard, the sleeve wouldn’t even be able to balance on his baby cock. It’s the utter opposite and reminds him just how thoroughly his baby is about to be torn open by the girth of this thing.

Down in the basement, Bucky is already waiting for them, likely smelling Peter, if not Tony as well. The alpha is prowling along the glass, keeping in pace with them, his eyes on Peter. The beta can’t help but stop, kneeling down just enough for the pair to press against the glass.

Peter makes a noise that can only be described as pure joy, it sounds like a purr mixed with that same chirping sound from their first morning together. The omega’s hands are pressed to the glass, cheek joining in as if trying to rub against Bucky through the clear pane. Bucky does something similar with his jaw pressed to the same spot as his whole body joins in, hundreds of pounds of muscle leaning on the glass.

It is darling, absolutely adorable, but nothing prepares Tony for the near heart-exploding scene that comes next. Peter, his sweet, beautiful boy, his princess, looks up at him with those large honey irises and chirps. Not quite like a bird, but similar to a cat who’s been watching birds for too long.

His heart turns to mush and, shifting Peter from bridal style to holding him under his armpits (Peter thankfully grabbing for the sleeve before it hits the ground), Tony peppers that sweet face in kisses. Such a good boy he is, asking Daddy for what he wants without even using words, looking to Daddy to fulfil his needs. It’s progress he never thought they’d reach this soon. He knows better than to assume it’ll be permanent at this stage, but it’s a win in every possible way.

Peter is sweet enough to blush, turning his eyes away as Tony coos over him, utterly smitten.

“Such a darling boy, so sweet for Daddy. Are you ready, baby? Want Daddy to have you stuffed with your mate’s delectable cock?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Even now, so shy as to speak softly. So close to having outright begged to be with Bucky, yet he stays quiet and gentle with his voice, like Daddy has asked something of him that he doesn’t quite know how to do.

Wasting no more time, he quickly enters the room. Not wanting to interfere more than necessary, he sets Peter gently on his hands and knees. Peter, unsure where to put the sleeve, tucks it under his chin as he toddles over to his alpha. Chainless, Peter is free to move around in a way Bucky can’t. They won’t be left alone unless Peter gets hooked to the wall as well, but with his watchful eyes he assumes it’ll be fine. He is desperately curious to see what Bucky will do without the limitations of the heavy iron ropes which often kept the two tethered in an unnatural way.

Bucky strides forward, meeting him halfway. His beautiful, charming beast of an alpha tucks that little nugget under him, a massive hand reaching to corral his mate under him, in no mind to worry about the foreign object Peter has brought with him. His Bucky, always so concerned with Peter these days, wanting his mate hidden beneath his torso even as they stand. Peter rotates enough to face forward, getting comfortable under the roof his mate has so graciously provided for his comfort.

Tony is disappointed when Peter doesn’t present his gift right away. Instead he beams as a large, soft tongue runs through his curls. Still, Tony can’t stay disappointed for long. He wanted a mated pair and he got possibly the most attached set of pets he could have asked for. It really can’t just be hormones at this point. Otherwise, Bucky would already be so deep inside his omega his balls would be inching their way in.

The affection is endearing, a sign that they’ll last and fuel his enjoyment for years to come. Bucky’s obsessive grooming screams “provider,” clearly someone determined to build a relationship before sex. He can’t blame his pets, not after seeing how badly his supposed brute just needed a mate to let his guard down with, and how his princess craves the safety and emotional bonding.

After a few minutes of grooming and loving touches, Peter finally presents his gift, holding it out like an offering in his small nervous fingers. Bucky stops in his tracks.

“This for me, sweetheart?”

“U-us. Daddy let me pick it. I wanted something that would make us both feel good.”

Bucky immediately descends on his baby’s neck. Nibbling and biting as a husky, “thank you, sugar,” slips into the air. Peter is squealing and giggling, clutching the cover tightly as his shoulders and throat are lovingly assaulted.

“Can I put it on you?” Peter bats his eyelashes, clearly without thought. Those doe eyes asking so politely to let him mount his new gift on that delicious cock before riding Bucky into the sunset.

“Of course, anything you want, Peter.” It’s said with so much conviction, Tony suspects that Peter could have asked to rip Bucky’s cock clean off and the alpha would have let him. Though of course, Tony would put that to a stop immediately. Maiming is a sure-fire way to get the pair separated indefinitely.

Peter shifts to face Bucky’s groin, his little rear sticking out for Tony to see in spite of the hidden installment of the cover. He’s about to get on the speaker to tell them to adjust so Daddy can see when Bucky leans down, lapping at the omega’s hole.

It’s messy, the angle more of a swiping across than over, but the alpha has one of those ripe cheeks in his hand, pulling it aside for better access and giving Daddy a perfect view of the show. It slows Peter down, the boy clearly trying to press back against the sensation as he works, torn between the attention and his own duty.

Eventually, he manages. Bucky growls and gently nips the skin near the boy’s rim. A squeak sounds from between the man’s legs and Peter scrambles backwards, tongue sticking out in a playful way at Bucky’s crass gesture. The cock cover is perfectly visible now. The prettiest of blues and, despite the massive size, still somehow looking proportional even if a bit on the heavier side. His balls finally look nearly normal when put up against that extra four inches in length and meaty inch of additional girth. The ridges on the sleeve stand out proudly, looking delectable, and leaves Tony knowing that Peter is going to be utterly and completely wrecked to near pieces after this monster ends up inside him.

Bucky, seemingly now ready to get on with the show, stalks over to Peter. The omega knows the drill, it’s already been a week of them fucking like rabbits, as Bucky has apparently been attempting to pup his pussy for the better part of it. Peter scrambles for the bed, not wanting to be fucked into the floor today (and Tony can’t blame his princess for that). Bucky is not far behind, keeping his drawn, predator pace as the cock cover forces his shaft to point downward from the weight.

With the little time he has, Peter makes himself pretty for his mate. He pushes the blankets around to give a bit more of a nest structure before laying his lithe body out on the bed. He faces Bucky, propped up on his elbows and making enticing noises trying to draw Bucky in, like the alpha isn’t clearly thinking of every way to take Peter apart already.

The second Bucky is on the bed, everything turns downright feral.

Bucky is immediately on top of Peter, humping the boy with desperate thrusts, trying to find entrance. Little moans escape as Peter hides his face in his hands, a slight tremble running through him as the alpha tries to gain entrance. Slick had started to pool after Bucky’s lapping, but even Tony doubts it will be enough out of heat. Still, his baby doesn’t complain, laying there and ready to take it like a champ.

When Bucky finds his mark, it’s all over. Peter screams. It has Tony up and out of his chair, worried his sweet, tiny, breakable Peter has just been torn up by too much too fast. He’s moving towards the door before he hears what Peter is crying out.

“Oh, Bucky, Bucky! M’ so full – Yes, yesyesyes!” His hips shake as Peter is pounded. He shouts and cries like he is being murdered, but the pleasure is so clearly written on his face Tony forces his ass back into his seat. The pair is facing him, so he can’t see the true action, but that’s what cameras are for. He pulls up a rear angle on his tablet, setting it off to the side for when he wants to see that delicate pussy stretched out so tight his rim is nearly glued to the silicone. Admittedly, watching each ridge and bump pull and push his princess’ hole to its limit is a sight, one he’ll be jacking off to for weeks to come. But really, Peter makes facial expressions that can’t be rivaled.

Under Bucky, Peter looks like a dwarf, his frame consumed by the alpha’s to a point that he looks like he would simply be too small to exist. That acting as a backdrop for the blissed out, moaning face makes the experience orgasm-worthy all on its own. Drool rolls down from the corner of his mouth as Bucky’s hips slam inside him with enough force to bruise. Just a little hazy and cross-eyed, as if he’s so drunk on cock he’s not quite there, face flushed the most delicate dusty rose color. It’s perfect. Utterly blissed out and enjoying what his body was made for, milking a cock big enough to kill him.

Tony is so laser-focused on Peter he almost doesn’t notice what Bucky is doing. The alpha is clearly close, the stretchy cover that rests over the base of his cock already filling out with the beginnings of a knot. He seems lost in what he’s doing, ravaging Peter like he owns him and Peter can take whatever he’s given, so long as it’s Bucky handing it out. When the alpha reaches down to squeeze at his knot, Tony assumes it’s an attempt to increase the pressure and moves his gaze back to Peter’s face. Which is why he knows the exact moment Bucky rips the cover off.

Peter makes a completely different sound. This one gutted and primal, the sound of someone who is receiving bare, unadulterated cock. The cover is tossed on the bed as Bucky slams into Peter so hard, his nearly-full knot pops in with one go.

The omega shouts Bucky’s name, repeating it like a prayer as his pussy is creamed and fed. Bucky still taps his hips forward as their on-looker sits in shock.

He knows Bucky is an animal, but that…was truly something else.

[jbbuckybarnes]

Kinktober: Extra

EXTRA for Kinktober Pairing: Stucky x Reader Prompt: Sex Pollen, dub-con (ish) Description: Since you all have been so nice this month I decided to give you one extra. Warnings: 18+, unsafe intercourse, dub-con, daddy kink

Kinktober MASTERLIST

It was clear to Bruce the second you all came back from the mission that Steve & Bucky managed to catch something in that Hydra lab. "It's a drug that amps up all the primal instincts to, well, procreate. Came across it a few times before." "Sooo, they need to...okay. O-kay." you looked at both of them looking down on you. The rest of the team had vanished and when you looked back to Bruce he was gone too. "Really?" you grumbled. "Darling, let us take care of you." Bucky murmured into your ear and sent shivers down your spine. "You both can't fully consent on this drug." you protested. "So you wouldn't be opposed to the idea." Steve, clearly not himself, tried to get this to make sense so he could have his way with you. "Well, no. When you're freaking able to consent? Clearly." you looked up at Steve now. "Let us take care of you, sweetheart." he caressed your cheek. He was the last one to talk about these topics and you would lie if this didn't do something to you. "We can hear your heart beating and we know it isn't fear." Bucky now put his hands onto your hips from behind and pressed kisses onto your neck. "Hey! Being turned on by this doesn't mean I cons-" another pair of lips was suddenly moving on yours and made you lose a little moan. Of course you wanted this. The two were never drunk or on any other drugs. Always dealing with their normal selves. But this was different.

Bucky picked you up, bringing you to his room. You didn't protest. HE would be the one embarrassed about this the next day. Both of them. And you weren't about to fight off two super soldiers just because they had the hots for you. "Be careful," you hissed at Steve's hands taking off your shirt from behind with a little bit too much enthusiasm. "Gonna make you feel so good." Steve's voice was deep and his lips sucked on your neck while he was getting off your bra. Meanwhile, Bucky's darkened eyes were starring at you while he yanked off your belt and the zipper of your pants. "Such a good girl for us," Bucky grumbled. "Gonna be so pretty all filled up with us." Steve murmured from the side and started massaging your boobs. Bucky's clothes were on the floor in a heartbeat while you were gasping at the sensation on your chest. You eyed his body, not disappointing at all. He continued undressing Steve behind you, that was still busy with your breasts, while his length pressed against your belly. "You're the one fully sane, baby. Decide." Bucky looked into your eyes, clearly, the drug only had half the effectiveness on both of them, there was a little bit of consent and a lot of questions what that would've done to a normal human. Steve's hand wandered between your legs and you couldn't hold back a moan anymore. You knew you were about to be manhandled. It was written on their faces for a while now. And there it was, you were picked up by Steve and he fell on the bed and he picked you up to sit on him backward. "Guess you decided for me," you smirked and got a grin from Bucky, sitting down in front of you and a grunt from Steve behind you sitting up. Before you could register what was happening two metal digits dove inside of you and you instinctively moaned out. "We want you, but we said take care of you, not use you." Steve murmured and Bucky's lips crashed onto yours. He had your legs shaking before inserting a third finger, making you squeal and grab into his hair. "So good and ready for us," Steve said before picking you off of Bucky's fingers and right where you could decide to slide onto his length. "C'mon baby," Bucky smirked at you before you grabbed Steve's cock, helping it press into you. "Shit, doll." a groan came from behind you. You went crosseyed when you couldn't slide down any further and moaned out. "So pretty, when you have a dick balls deep inside of you doll. Want another?" Bucky came closer. Closer to your face to be exact. While Steve started grabbing your hips to have his way with you, you grabbed onto Bucky's hips to be stable and looked up at him innocently while licking a stripe up a vein on his big cock. "Fuck, such a good girl." he groaned and grabbed into your hair. Your tongue swirled around the head and another moan left him. Suddenly you were yanked forward, automatically letting him slide into your mouth, making you gag. "Fuck, such a pretty girl." he moaned and you started being in a perfect rhythm of sliding down a cock and devouring another one. "Such a tight and wet cunt." came deep from behind and you went cross-eyed again. Hearing Steve be so...direct, was getting to you. "Yeah, you like it when we do that, don't you." Bucky grinned down and you just made big eyes up at him, making him groan. With another flick of your tongue he came into your mouth with a growl. "Taste good, baby girl?" "So good-" a moan, from Steve's pacing into you, interrupted you. Now that you were able to, you fell into a rhythm with him. "Fuck, Steve," you called out and heard a groan. "Cum for me, darling," Bucky asked politely and with fast and panting moans and a big cock pounding into you, definitely hitting your g-spot you clenched down on Steve's length and felt him coat your walls. "Good girl. Let me use you next." Bucky said with an evil glint in his eyes, grabbing you off of Steve and turning you around. "Love to see your face, but so does he." your eyes were right in front of Steve's massive cock slowly getting hard and twitching again. A dick was rammed into your pussy from behind, making you lose a loud moan and suddenly your mouth that was silenced by Steve using that perfect moment to yank your head down. A cock slid into your open mouth and this time you didn't need to do anything. The thrusting from Bucky made you automatically move up and down Steve's dick. Your innocent eyes up at him were tear-filled now. You were so oversensitive already. Groans and moans filled the air together with the sound of gags and the wet sound of your cunt. "Such a little cockwhore." Bucky growled from behind and Steve's seed filled your mouth with a loud moan. Now he moved down a bit, his hand landing on your clit and his face close to yours. "Tell us loud and clear how this feels and what you want darling. Gonna take care of you so good." A moan fell from your lips, "Bucky, oh my god." "Yeah, you like having a giant cock inside of you doll." he smacked your ass. "Don't stop." "Tell me what you want." Steve looked at you. "I wanna cum," you whined and the thrusts got even more intense, together with Steve's hand on your clit. "Cum for us, princess," Steve said almost soft and you came hard and all over Bucky's bed. "Good girl," Bucky said with one last moan before his white was also coating your walls. "Our girl." Steve kissed your face. ___

You woke up squished between two big bodies. "Fuck," Steve mumbled, waking up from your movement, seeing you naked next to him. "Hm?" you opened your eyes. "I'm sorry." "You were the ones who didn't consent. I was just the only one not running from you both." "Oh, so...you, uh, all of that was a genuine reaction?" his ears were red. "Yup." you smiled sleepily. "Wanna...start that over again?" Steve asked awkwardly. You smiled, starting to kiss him, having strong arms encase you shortly after. His dick was already hard just thinking of what he remembered from the day before but now he wasn't that person anymore. You grabbed his length & sat down on top of him to slide down on it. He blinked a few times, "Woah." You leaned down, kissing his trained chest while picking up a slow and soft rhythm. This was morning sex, not a competition. "You like that?" you smiled and saw him close his eyes and felt him grab into your thighs. "Yes, that's-" a deep groan left him. You both moved at a comfortable pace, waking each other up a bit, interchanging soft kisses, little moans, and groans from deep within his chest. "You close, doll?" he asked a bit strained and you nodded with a smile before sitting up straight and letting him help you with a few good thrusts that brought you to an almost gentle high that was being marked with a whiny long moan and his seed filling you once again. "God, you're amazing." he smiled once you got off of him. Bucky turned around with a grumble shortly after and peaked his eyes open. "Oh god. That really happened? Not a dream?" his hand went over his face. "Sorry, dar-" "You. Both. Were. The ones. Not. Consenting." you snapped your fingers. "So you want more?" he smirked. "She already got more," said Steve behind you. "Yes, I think I wouldn't mind." you smiled at him softly. "Insatiable." he grinned pulling you closer. His kisses were much softer and passionate now and you felt his length against your leg pretty fast. "There's something I couldn't do yesterday." he smiled and turned you onto your back. "Actually taking care of you." he smiled before sliding into you and making your back arch into him. You heard Steve watching you both, or rather the reaction to it and a wave of warmth and wetness filled your core. "Gentle or rough, princess?" you heard above you. "I already had gentle today." you grinned opening your eyes and he gave you a dirty smirk back before mercilessly thrusting into you. "Oh my FUCK." you called out while being pressed into the pillow and mattress deeper. "Yeah, you like that, don't you." he chuckled before groaning. "Yes, don't stop," you whined, arching into him more and then rolling your hips towards him. Hands intertwined with yours and after that, you turned into a moaning mess. No words could describe that perfect feeling he was giving you with his rough pushes into you. "Yeah, baby, you wanna cum?" he asked panting. "Yes, sir. Please." "Does the Captain allow that." he chuckled and you heard a grunt. "He said no." you heard, you know that was Bucky's idea to get Steve a little relaxed. "Please, let me cum, Captain," you whined. Bucky picked up the pace even more. "Please, Captain. Gonna suck your dick so good. Please let me cum, Captain." You heard him stroke himself faster, "God, doll." "Please, Captain, gonna let you cum all over me." "Cum for me, doll," he growled and you clenched on Bucky's cock with an ungodly moan, making both men explode in white with you. "Ours," Bucky growled into your ear before leaving you. "Yours." "Want another threesome?" Bucky grinned. "Please." "Sit on my face, baby," he said suavely. "Steve." you showed him to come closer. "I just told you I'd suck your dick so good." you looked up at him and already had him groan and twitch back to full length. Bucky's tongue went through your folds thoroughly while you started to make Steve shake with your tongue movements and one hand landing between his thighs. "Fuck, doll." he moaned out. "Mhm, you like that." you grinned up before finally taking him in. Bucky flicked over your clit in perfect rhythms to make you all dizzy and careless enough to deep-throat the soldier in front of you. "Shit. Doll. Oh my-" With a deep growl, he yanked your head away and his cum dripped onto your chest. "You said you'd let me cum all over you." he grinned and you moaned, spreading the liquid further and licking your fingers. "Of course, Captain," you said innocently before moaning again. "Don't stop," you whined. "How's that feel, sweetheart?" Steve smirked. "So good. Fuck. So. So. Good." He'd found the perfect way to drive you mad. "Yes, right there, daddy." you moaned out and heard a growl. "Fuck, daddy. Yes." "Be a good girl for us and cum." Steve caressed your face. "Yes, fuck, Captain." "Gonna cum all pretty for your Captain and your Sergeant?" "Yes, sir." you moaned out and Bucky went insane below you. "Yes, daddy, yes," you whined out before coming a third time that morning with a loud moan and shaking legs. "Fuck, darling, you taste amazing and I hope you keep up that dirty little name for me, princess." he looked up between your legs all accomplished. "Yes, of course," you went through his hair, "Daddy." "Good girl." he smiled, feeling you shiver. "Let's get all cleaned up, darling." "Not that we don't enjoy this sight with our cum everywhere on you." Steve bit his lip. "Believe me, Steve, I enjoy every single bit of it too." you bit your lip too, tracing his abs. "C'mon. Into my bathroom, before I decide to fuck you so good that you can't walk anymore." Bucky said, getting you off of him. "You're DEFINITELY the dominant one here." you grinned. "Thought that was clear from the beginning. He's the softie." Bucky nudged his head towards Steve. "Bath?" you asked them. "Sounds good to me, doll." "Sounds more than good to me, princess. "Our Girl."

Kinktober MASTERLIST

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 6 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea

Ella understood she would receive a frosty reception in Jotunheim, and that was not just in regards to the weather. She knew many would be suspicious of the Aesir especially after everything and the fact that in almost a thousand years, Odin had not sought to thaw relations. But the manner in which Prince Loki spoke to her that night brought her from feeling fear of the isolation and foreignness of the land she was now in to feeling scared at how their marriage could be. The coldness of his tone, as well as the accusation in it,  made her feel as though her thoughts that he was glaring at her at dinner was not as she had convinced herself as it being in her mind and that she simply was being overly-sensitive but that he had very much done so. She wondered if she could speak with her father and voice her concerns, hoping he would not force her into a marriage if it was going to be one of open hostility. That very day the stipulation was made that she had to give her husband two sons, and Norns only knows how many daughters in the process as per the agreement. The idea of laying with a man that loathed her made her shudder. Rising to her feet, she thought to speak with her parents for a moment to see if they could alter the agreement as clearly Loki thought little to nothing of her.

Just as she opened the door of her rooms, she was startled to see Loki standing outside them. Though shocked, she instinctively curtsied. “Your Highness.”

“Princess.” He bowed. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time.” She nodded, terrified of what he would say. “I wish to apologise for my earlier behaviour, it was unacceptable, I am sorry.”

“I understand. I am your realm’s enemy’s daughter. I know the air of suspicion that places on me, but I can assure you, I only want what is best for Jotunheim. It is to be my home now and I want it to thrive, especially under your rule.”

Loki did not know what to think of her words. He simply nodded and agreed. “Yes, I wish for the same. If we share such a goal, then this should not be too difficult.”

“No, I suspect not.” She gave a small smile. “I will not take up any more of your evening. I thank you for your apology and accept it. I know alliance marriages are not the most pleasant and are practically unheard of in this realm, I hope I do not disappoint you.”

“It seems to be somewhat a common occurrence on yours though, does it not?”

“In the higher houses, yes. It is.”

“Does that not lead to inbreeding?”

“It very much does, hence my father marrying my mother to dilute a somewhat teetering bloodline.”

“I thought it was to secure Vanaheim’s allegiance against Nidavallr?” Loki was certain Arden had taught him such.

“An arranged marriage can have more than one particular reason.” She shrugged. “Is it not the same here?”

“No, here you do as you please, though some houses do like to align but our breeding practises mean multiple mates of any standing are entirely acceptable.”

“I’m sorry to have taken such choices from you,” Ella commented. “Though I am curious, do men have the choice of how many wives he has but a woman only has one husband?”

“No, women can choose to mate with whomever she chooses, it is simply a case of who gives her the most reason to mate with them.”

Ella noted the manner in which he referenced intimacy. It seemed so different from Asgard. “I see. Forgive me, but it is getting late and I have taken enough of your time.”

“Yes. I had best go and ensure my father is alright. Goodbye.” He turned and left and rushed down the hallway without waiting for her to reply.

Ella walked back into her room, her plan to speak with her father all but forgotten as it was most likely a moment of ill-thought that spurred Prince Loki’s earlier comments and with him apologising for them, she saw no reason to incite issue.

Loki walked to his father’s rooms thinking of the interaction he had just had with his soon-to-be mate. She was polite, but he loathed everything she referenced with regards to Aesir society. The idea that she would simply be bartered off without so much as entertaining the idea of love and that she would just accept it was unfathomable to him. He feared the union already and he especially feared how any children born to it would fare. His father had four mates through his life, he cared for each of them individually, his mother, Nal, was his father’s favourite to converse with as she had seen more of the realms. She had been Vanir, but the Great War took her when a Light Elf ship crashed into the dwelling she was in. Laufey mourned her, yet loved his other mates also for how they enriched his life.

When his father told him of the Aesir tradition of one mate, he had been horrified. The idea that you could go your whole existence loathing your significant other and not have the release of the company of one you adore terrified him. When his father told him of the view that procreating with one outside of that chosen spouse led to mayhem and anger, he did not know what to think. He was grateful that female Aesir tended to have seasonal spikes in fertility with the chance of impregnation throughout the year so heirs were guaranteed so long as they lay with one another with some fashion of regularity but knowing there was nothing for them to speak about and knowing his father publicly guaranteed to the Allfather that he would not take another mate both angered him and broke his heart. He always cared deeply for one such being. Angrboða met him in mind, she engaged him in ways he knew this Aesir never would. He always thought she would be his other mate, that seemed a common occurrence on most every realm, even Asgard had such partners, though they called them ‘Mistresses’, but the Allfather stated specifically it would not be permitted. Arden informed him it was to do with lineage. Though most men in Aesir court did indeed have mistresses, the King would not, so an illegitimate son would not be able to usurp his legitimate brother’s rightful throne. It made sense, it kept the line of succession precise and easy to follow, but it was about to lead to a very miserable union for him.

“My son.”

Loki looked at his father, almost falling out of the chair he was in. He righted him immediately. “Father.”

“She is here. She is not as bad as the brother, Norns be praised. I did everything I could for you, to have the Casket brought back, to have you see the Jotunheim I knew before. It is so close, I can taste it. Wait until you show your sons how it was, how it will be again. And a daughter, if you have one, to show her flora long made dormant by the frost. I see it so clearly. A little girl, seeing a flower bloom for the first time as her brother, our future, your heir wields a seidr beckoned toy sword. Norns but it will be glorious. You will be there to give them this, knowing you did this for them, for them all, the whole realm.”

Loki swallowed at his father’s dream, not voicing the pressure he felt from it. “Are you planning to not see it yourself, Father?”

“I grow weak, I do not think I will see it again in all of its glory, but I will hold on long enough to see it grow, to see my first grandchild from you come to be.”

“That is something of a deterrent, I would delay such to keep you longer.”

“Don’t jest with me in such a manner.” His father chuckled. “I know the bargain with regards to mates is not a fair one, Loki, but there is no way he would have agreed otherwise.” Loki swallowed. “I know you care for Deric’s daughter, and she is a good being, but it must not result in a child.”

“I understand.”

“Good. The princess, she is key to everything. If she does as she is supposed to do and gives you your sons, she will have given us new hope. And who knows, the Allfather was given the Allmother in such a manner and they care for one another, perhaps you will come to see the Princess in the same way.“

Loki very much doubted it.

[simulacrumcfp]

CALL FOR PAPERS: MYTHS

Two mermaids, from Apocalypse, Prophecy of the Tiburtine Sibyl, Harley MS 4972 f. 20r, 1275-1325.

He placed one hand upon my shoulder and, holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying as he did so: “First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet; it is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!” 

Lucy’s eyes were unclean […], instead of pure.

Poor Lucy finds herself tainted by the bite of Count Dracula, an aristocratic Transylvanian vampire that is thirsty for blood, out to export his barbaric ways to Victorian England. In his Dracula (1897), Bram Stoker utilises the myth of the vampire to warn the Victorian reader of the Eastern threat, by portraying Eastern Europe as a place of backwardness and barbaric – vampiristic – rituals. Myths about vampires have been around since the medieval period, when they were commonly linked to profanity. Stoker’s Dracula is the resurrection of a mythological figure, one that can be guided in all sorts of directions, for what was once the myth of the undead has come to represent the fears and threats of the time in which they are resurrected. 

Since ancient times, myths have spoken of the how’s and why’s located at the limits of human understanding, designating that place where intellect fails. There, where knowers stop knowing, we story. In The World of Myth (1990) David Leeming writes that ‘human beings have traditionally used stories to describe or explain things they could not otherwise,’ pointing to the timeless human tendency to grapple with the unknown through story. The myth functions as the means by which we relate to the unknown, embodying our wonderings of the worlds beyond human ratio. 

These stories are then conveyed through artworks, literature, history, or religion. Myths, however, do not just function as a source of inspiration for the arts, but often find their origin in art, spreading, evolving, and growing with different art forms and styles. The Venus Anadyomene, for example, first emerged from the sea in the Theogony – a poem by Hesiod from the 8th century BC. This specific depiction of Venus, daughter of Jupiter and Dione, as birthed by the sea was then made famous by the painting by Apelles (4th century BC). Although this painting has long been lost, it was described by Pliny in his Naturalis Historia (1st century AD), which served as an iconological guidebook for artists. From the orators who tell and retell their stories throughout generations, to the poets who write them down, to the sculptors who carve them out, stories are kept alive. To this day, Venus is most commonly known as the goddess who rose from the sea. 

In the Danish fairytale Den Lille Havfrue (1837) by Hans Christian Andersen, sea foam is not where love is born, but where love goes to die. In the Walt Disney adaptation of the fairytale, The Little Mermaid (1989), mermaid princess Ariel, daughter of king Triton, falls in love with a human prince and gives up her tail to be with him. In the original, quite grim, fairytale by Andersen, the little mermaid finds her prince lying with another. She refuses to stab the lovers to death, as her sisters urge her to, and as a result of her broken heart she dissolves in the foam of the waves. 

In Japan, ancient folklore is being retold to a modern audience through the films by Hayao Miyazaki. His Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi (Spirited Away, 2001) animates kami, spirits, washing themselves in a bathhouse as a result of pollution and human activity. This mirrors the Shinto belief that both gods and nature have to be respected and kept clean, and serves as a modern warning. Their demonic counterparts, the oni, take form in the character of Yubaba, who is based on the archetype of the mountain witch, or yumuaba. By taking Japanese mythology as a starting point, Miyazaki is able to create a fantasy-scape: a place where the unthinkable becomes possible. 

Perhaps our first association with mythology brings us back to Ancient Greece. But for them, μῦθος simply meant a story – whether a true or false one, gossip, a historical tale or one of faeries, even a dream. Mῦθος and λόγος, two seemingly opposite terms, fantasy and reason, come together in mythology: the analysing and explaining of stories. There are several ways in which a myth can be explained, and therefore one can also speak of several mythologies. In Creative Mythology (1968) for example, American mythologist Joseph Campbell describes how literary figures such as Thomas Mann or James Joyce managed to make themselves into “living myths,” by translating individual experiences through the correct signs. Shakespeare, with his plays, even managed to create myths around historical figures such as King Henry IV, attracting audiences that were eager to learn about history. History has made other figures into myths as well, such as Louis XIV, known as the Sun King, or Marie Antoinnete.  

In his Mythologies (1957) Roland Barthes explains the creation and circulation of myths through signs and language. According to Barthes, myths are a societal necessity created on the basis of contemporary social value systems, whereby myth formation should mainly be seen as a semiological process, partly as an ideological one. In the essay “Myth Today,” Barthes examines French bourgeois myths that are deeply rooted in society, yet often go unnoticed or taken as fact. By deconstructing modern myths that are spread through advertisements and propaganda, Barthes is able to get to the core of the societal value system of his time. Most famously, he deconstructs the myths around France’s two national products: steak frites and red wine. Both serve as metaphors for blood which, in French society, equals vitality and virility, which equals masculinity, which equals superiority. Equating France with steak frites and red wine then means equating France with virility, masculinity, superiority. 

In “The Double Standard of Aging” (1972), Susan Sontag tackles another modern myth that is deeply-rooted in society, concerning women and age. In the essay, she explains how and why women “of a certain age” are deemed physically undesirable, noting that this differentiates per country. She explains that urbanised societies allow two standards of male beauty, the man and the boy, but only one of female beauty: the girl. This societal judgement of beauty mirrors the evolutionary myth that the value of women is based on their ability for procreation. As a woman’s fertility decreases with age, so does her societal worth.

As the myth moves beyond the human, outside the world as we know it, it writes a strange universe.  It points to that which is not completely explainable according to our current structures for categorising the world. The enchanted world of the supernatural, with its gods, witches, and vampires, perhaps writes of a darker, less knowable reality. Their magic, spells, and strange rituals trouble the disenchanted story of Enlightenment, which tells of reason, control, and certainty – a myth in itself. But even though these supernatural entities tell of the incredible and unbelievable, they remain somewhat explainable. Vampires, gods, and witches, for example, are familiar figures based on a set of commonly understood fictions, differing ever so slightly from the human. ‘In many ways, a natural phenomenon such as a black hole is more weird than a vampire,’ writes Mark Fisher in The Weird and The Eerie (2016). We understand where to place and how to interpret the vampire as a fictional entity. A black hole actually exists, yet we do not understand its strange ways of bending space and time. Science Fiction balances on this thin line between fiction and reality. Perhaps the biggest myths, strangest entities, and weirdest monsters are not necessarily found within the fictional realm of the supernatural but right here in ‘the natural.’ 

‘Coral reefs are monsters.’ In the Arts of Living on a Damaged Planet (2017), Anna Tsing equates this natural phenomenon to the supernatural. Like the mythical chimeras of ancient Greece – beasts made up of the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a snake – coral reefs are made of mismatched parts. They embody a strange species encounter as their polyps grow from both animal, plant, and more. Symbiosis, the interaction between two different organisms living in close physical association, might point to some monstrous truth essential to our current epoch of living with the world. In all our vulnerable entanglements with more than human life – we humans too are monsters. 

There are literary differences to be found between myths, fairy tales, sagas, lores, fables, and legends. Fairy tales, for example, often take place in a fantastical world, in which magical creatures roam, and battles between Good and Evil take place. Myths, on the other hand, often have a basis in religion and tell stories about gods or divine creators. Both contain supernatural elements, sometimes these have a basis in history, sometimes in religion, and sometimes in fantasy. For this issue of Simulacrum, we have therefore chosen to soften the boundaries between these ways of storytelling, in order to be open to multiple mythologies, their meanings, and interpretations.

Fancy yourself a modern mythologist? Write an article of 1.000, 1.400, or 1.800 words for our upcoming issue, Mythologies. The deadline for first drafts is the 15th of November, 2020. Would you rather write a column, an interview, fiction, poetry, or do you know an artist whose work fits with this theme? Email us at info@simulacrum.nl. Please send articles as .doc or .docx and portfolio’s as PDF.

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CALL FOR PAPERS: Mythologieën

Hij legde een hand op mijn schouder, hield me stevig vast, ontblootte mijn keel met de andere en zei daarbij: ‘Eerst een beetje verfrissing om mijn inspanningen te belonen. U kunt net zo goed stil zijn; het is niet de eerste keer, of de tweede, dat je aderen mijn dorst hebben gestild!’

Lucy’s ogen waren onrein [...], in plaats van puur

Lucy wordt gebeten door de bloeddorstige Graaf Dracula, een aristocratische vampier uit Transsylvanië, die er op uit is om zijn zondige en barbaarse levensstijl naar Victoriaans Engeland over te brengen. In zijn roman Dracula (1897) zet Bram Stoker de mythische vampier in om de Victoriaanse lezers te waarschuwen voor de opkomende ‘dreiging van het Oosten’ door Oost-Europa af te schilderen als een plek van barbaarse – vampiristische – rituelen. Mythes over vampieren gaan al rond sinds de middeleeuwen en werden toen vooral gelinkt aan godslastering. Met Dracula wekt Stoker dit mythologische figuur op uit de dood en blaast deze nieuw leven in. De vampier, eens de mythe van de ondoden, vertegenwoordigt voortaan de angsten en bedreigingen van de tijd waarin ze herrijst.

Sinds de oudheid gaan mythen over het hoe en het waarom. Daarmee bevinden ze zich aan de grenzen van het menselijk begrip – daar waar het intellect faalt, wordt er verhaald. In The World of Myth (1990) schrijft David Leeming dat ‘mensen van oudsher verhalen hebben gebruikt om dingen te beschrijven of uit te leggen die ze zonder niet zouden kunnen,’ duidend op een tijdloze menselijke neiging om door middel van verhaal door het onbekende te navigeren. Zo functioneert de mythe als het middel waarmee we ons verhouden tot het onbekende, en belichaamt deze onze verwondering over de werelden buiten de menselijke ratio.

Deze verhalen leven vervolgens door via de kunst, literatuur, geschiedenis of religie. Mythen gelden echter niet alleen als inspiratiebron voor de kunsten, maar vinden ook vaak hun oorsprong in de kunst, en verspreiden, evolueren en groeien met verschillende kunstvormen en -stijlen mee. Zo verrees de Venus Anadyomene voor het eerst uit de zee in de Theogonie - een gedicht van Hesiodus uit de 8e eeuw BC. Deze specifieke weergave van Venus, dochter van Jupiter en Dione, als geboren uit de zee werd vervolgens beroemd gemaakt door het schilderij van Apelles (4e eeuw BC). Hoewel het schilderij verloren is geraakt, werd de Venus Anadyomene door Plinius beschreven in de Naturalis Historia (1e eeuw AD), dat diende als iconologische handboek voor volgende generaties kunstenaars. Van de redenaars die generaties lang hun verhalen vertellen, tot de dichters die ze opschrijven en de beeldhouwers die ze uithakken, worden verhalen levend gehouden. Zo staat Venus tot op de dag van vandaag bekend als de godin die uit de zee verrees.

In het Deense sprookje Den Lille Havfrue (1837) van Hans Christian Andersen is zeeschuim niet waar de liefde wordt geboren, maar waar liefde sterft. In de Walt Disney-bewerking van het sprookje, De Kleine Zeemeermin (1989), wordt zeemeermin prinses Ariel, dochter van koning Triton, verliefd op een menselijke prins en geeft ze haar schubben op om bij hem te zijn. In de originele, aanzienlijk grimmigere versie van Andersen treft de kleine zeemeermin haar beminde in bed bij een ander aan. Ze weigert de twee geliefden dood te steken, zoals haar zussen haar toe aanzetten, en als gevolg van haar gebroken hart lost ze op in het schuim van de golven.

In Japan wordt oude folklore voorgedragen aan een modern publiek door de films van Hayao Miyazaki. De geanimeerde Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (De reis van Chihiro, 2001) brengt kami, geesten, tot leven. Ten gevolge van menselijke vervuiling moeten de kami zich wassen in badhuizen om zichzelf weer schoon te krijgen. Deze moderne interpretatie weerspiegelt het Shinto-geloof dat zowel goden als de natuur moeten worden gerespecteerd door ze schoon te houden. De demonische tegenhangers, de oni, krijgen vorm in het karakter van Yubaba, die is gebaseerd op het archetype van de bergheks, de yumuaba. Door de Japanse mythologie als uitgangspunt te nemen, is Miyazaki in staat een ‘fantasyscape’ te creëren: een plek waar het ondenkbare mogelijk wordt.

Wellicht brengt een eerste associatie met mythologie ons terug naar de Klassieke Oudheid. Voor de Grieken betekende μῦθος echter simpelweg een verhaal – of dit nu een waar of een onwaar verhaal was; roddels, geschiedenis of een sprookje, zelfs dromen werden gezien als mythe. Mῦθος en λόγος, twee ogenschijnlijk tegengestelde termen, de fantasie en de rede, komen samen in de mythologie: het analyseren en verklaren van verhalen. Er zijn verschillende manieren waarop een mythe verklaard kan worden, en daarom kan er ook sprake zijn van meerdere mythologieën. In Creative Mythology (1968) beschrijft de Amerikaanse mytholoog Joseph Campbell bijvoorbeeld hoe literaire figuren als Thomas Mann of James Joyce erin slaagden om 'levende mythen' van zichzelf te maken door individuele ervaringen met de juiste tekens te vertalen. Shakespeare slaagde er met zijn toneelstukken in mythen te creëren rondom historische figuren zoals koning Hendrik IV, en trok daarmee een publiek aan dat graag over de geschiedenis wilde leren. Zo ook zijn andere figuren zoals Lodewijk XIV, beter bekend als de Zonnekoning, of Marie Antoinette, binnen de historie tot mythen geraakt.

In Mythologies (1975) analyseert Roland Barthes het ontstaan en de circulatie van mythen aan de hand van semiotiek en taal. Volgens Barthes zijn mythen onmisbaar in de maatschappij en baseren zij zich op hedendaagse sociale waardesystemen, waarbij de formatie van de mythe voornamelijk gezien moet worden als een semiologisch process en deels ideologisch. In het essay “Myth Today,” onderzoekt Barthes diepgewortelde Franse mythen die nochtans onopgemerkt blijven of als feit worden beschouwd. Door de deconstructie van moderne mythen, verspreid door reclame en propaganda, komt Barthes tot de kern van zijn eigentijdse sociale waardesysteem. Meest bekend is de deconstructie van de mythe rondom twee nationale Franse producten: biefstuk en rode wijn. Beide dienen als metafoor voor bloed, dat in de Franse maatschappij rijmt met vitaliteit en moed, die rijmen met mannelijkheid, dat rijmt met superioriteit. Het gelijkstellen van Frankrijk aan biefstuk en rode wijn betekent het gelijkstellen van Frankrijk aan moed, mannelijkheid en superioriteit.

In The Double Standard of Aging (1972) pakt Susan Sontag een andere diepgewortelde mythe aan, een omtrent vrouwen en leeftijd. In haar essay zet ze uit een hoe en waarom vrouwen vanaf een bepaalde leeftijd fysiek niet begeerbaar worden geacht, en merkt hierbij op dat dit per land verschilt. Ze legt uit dat verstedelijkte samenlevingen twee normen voor mannelijke schoonheid kennen, die van de man en die van de jongen, en maar een voor vrouwen, die van het meisje. Dit maatschappelijke schoonheidsoordeel weerspiegeld de evolutaire mythe die stelt dat de waarde van een vrouw gelijk staat aan haar voortplantingsvermogen. Net zoals de vruchtbaarheid van een vrouw  verminderd naarmate zij verjaard, verminderd ook haar maatschappelijke waarde. 

Naarmate de mythe de mens passeert, buiten de wereld zoals wij haar kennen treedt, schept ze een vreemd universum. Ze wijst naar dat wat we nog niet kunnen verklaren met onze huidige structuren voor het categoriseren van de wereld. Het betoverde rijk van het bovennatuurlijke, met haar goden, heksen en vampiers, schetst wellicht een donkerdere realiteit die zich minder goed laat kennen. Hun magie, spreuken en vreemde rituelen zetten zich af tegen het onttoverde narratief van de verlichting, welk van rede, controle en verstand spreekt – een mythe an sich. Maar hoewel deze bovennatuurlijke entiteiten verhalen vertellen over het ongelofelijke, blijven ze enigszins verklaarbaar. Vampiers, goden en heksen bijvoorbeeld, zijn vertrouwde figuren gebaseerd op een verzameling van collectieve fictie, die net afwijken van het menselijke. ‘In many ways, a natural phenomenon such as a black hole is more weird than a vampire,’ schreef Mark Fisher in The Weird and the Eerie (2016). We begrijpen hoe we vampiers als fictionele entiteit moeten plaatsen en interpreteren. Zwarte gaten bestaan echter wél, terwijl wij hun vreemde manieren in het buigen van tijd en ruimte niet bevatten. Science-fiction balanceert op deze dunne lijn tussen fictie en realiteit. Misschien zijn de grootste mythen, raarste entiteiten en meest vervreemdende monsters wel niet te vinden in het fictionele landschap van het bovennatuurlijke maar juist pal hier in het ‘natuurlijke.’

‘Coral reefs are monsters.’ In Arts of Living on a Dying Planet (2017), stelt Anna Tsing dit natuurlijke fenomeen gelijk aan het bovennatuurlijke. Zoals de mythische chimeras uit de Griekse oudheid – beesten met het hoofd van een leeuw, het lichaam van een geit en de staart van een slang – bestaan koraalriffen uit mismatched onderdelen. Met hun poliepen die zowel dierlijk als plantaardig kunnen zijn, belichamen ze een vreemde ontmoeting tussen de soorten. Symbiose, de interactie tussen twee verschillende organismen die in nauw contact met elkaar leven, wijzen ons wellicht naar een bepaalde, monsterlijke waarheid die essentieel is aan ons huidige tijdperk van leven met de aarde. In al onze kwetsbare verstrengelingen met meer dan menselijk leven, zijn ook wij mensen monsters.

Er zijn literaire verschillen te vinden tussen mythen, sprookjes, sagen, fabels en legenden. Sprookjes, bijvoorbeeld, vinden vaak plaats in een fantasiewereld, waar magische figuren rondzwerven en een strijd tussen goed en kwaad plaatsvindt. Mythes, aan de andere kant, vinden vaak hun oorsprong in religie en vertellen over goden en hemelse scheppers. Beiden bevatten bovennatuurlijke elementen. Soms ligt de basis daarvan in geschiedenis, soms in religie, soms in fantasie. Voor deze uitgave van Simulacrum hebben we er daarom voor gekozen de grenzen tussen deze literaire genres te vervagen, om ons open te stellen voor verschillende mythologieën, hun betekenissen en interpretaties.

Waan je jezelf een moderne mytholoog? Schrijf een artikel van 1.000, 1.400 of 1.800 woorden voor ons komende nummer Mythologieën. De deadline voor de eerste versies is op 15 november 2020. Schrijf je liever een column, interview, fictie of poëzie, of ken je een kunstenaar wiens werk in dit thema ligt? Email naar info@simulacrum.nl. Voeg artikelen s.v.p. bij als .doc of .docx en portfolio’s als PDF.

[wolfpawn]

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 6

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary -   Ella worries about Loki's demeanour to her while Loki worries of the life he is about to have to endure.

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Ella understood she would receive a frosty reception in Jotunheim, and that was not just in regards to the weather. She knew many would be suspicious of the Aesir especially after everything and the fact that in almost a thousand years, Odin had not sought to thaw relations. But the manner in which Prince Loki spoke to her that night brought her from feeling fear of the isolation and foreignness of the land she was now in to feeling scared at how their marriage could be. The coldness of his tone, as well as the accusation in it,  made her feel as though her thoughts that he was glaring at her at dinner was not as she had convinced herself as it being in her mind and that she simply was being overly-sensitive but that he had very much done so. She wondered if she could speak with her father and voice her concerns, hoping he would not force her into a marriage if it was going to be one of open hostility. That very day the stipulation was made that she had to give her husband two sons, and Norns only knows how many daughters in the process as per the agreement. The idea of laying with a man that loathed her made her shudder. Rising to her feet, she thought to speak with her parents for a moment to see if they could alter the agreement as clearly Loki thought little to nothing of her.

Just as she opened the door of her rooms, she was startled to see Loki standing outside them. Though shocked, she instinctively curtsied. “Your Highness.”

“Princess.” He bowed. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time.” She nodded, terrified of what he would say. “I wish to apologise for my earlier behaviour, it was unacceptable, I am sorry.”

“I understand. I am your realm’s enemy’s daughter. I know the air of suspicion that places on me, but I can assure you, I only want what is best for Jotunheim. It is to be my home now and I want it to thrive, especially under your rule.”

Loki did not know what to think of her words. He simply nodded and agreed. “Yes, I wish for the same. If we share such a goal, then this should not be too difficult.”

“No, I suspect not.” She gave a small smile. “I will not take up any more of your evening. I thank you for your apology and accept it. I know alliance marriages are not the most pleasant and are practically unheard of in this realm, I hope I do not disappoint you.”

“It seems to be somewhat a common occurrence on yours though, does it not?”

“In the higher houses, yes. It is.”

“Does that not lead to inbreeding?”

“It very much does, hence my father marrying my mother to dilute a somewhat teetering bloodline.”

“I thought it was to secure Vanaheim’s allegiance against Nidavallr?” Loki was certain Arden had taught him such.

“An arranged marriage can have more than one particular reason.” She shrugged. “Is it not the same here?”

“No, here you do as you please, though some houses do like to align but our breeding practises mean multiple mates of any standing are entirely acceptable.”

“I’m sorry to have taken such choices from you,” Ella commented. “Though I am curious, do men have the choice of how many wives he has but a woman only has one husband?”

“No, women can choose to mate with whomever she chooses, it is simply a case of who gives her the most reason to mate with them.”

Ella noted the manner in which he referenced intimacy. It seemed so different from Asgard. “I see. Forgive me, but it is getting late and I have taken enough of your time.”

“Yes. I had best go and ensure my father is alright. Goodbye.” He turned and left and rushed down the hallway without waiting for her to reply.

Ella walked back into her room, her plan to speak with her father all but forgotten as it was most likely a moment of ill-thought that spurred Prince Loki’s earlier comments and with him apologising for them, she saw no reason to incite issue.

Loki walked to his father’s rooms thinking of the interaction he had just had with his soon-to-be mate. She was polite, but he loathed everything she referenced with regards to Aesir society. The idea that she would simply be bartered off without so much as entertaining the idea of love and that she would just accept it was unfathomable to him. He feared the union already and he especially feared how any children born to it would fare. His father had four mates through his life, he cared for each of them individually, his mother, Nal, was his father’s favourite to converse with as she had seen more of the realms. She had been Vanir, but the Great War took her when a Light Elf ship crashed into the dwelling she was in. Laufey mourned her, yet loved his other mates also for how they enriched his life.

When his father told him of the Aesir tradition of one mate, he had been horrified. The idea that you could go your whole existence loathing your significant other and not have the release of the company of one you adore terrified him. When his father told him of the view that procreating with one outside of that chosen spouse led to mayhem and anger, he did not know what to think. He was grateful that female Aesir tended to have seasonal spikes in fertility with the chance of impregnation throughout the year so heirs were guaranteed so long as they lay with one another with some fashion of regularity but knowing there was nothing for them to speak about and knowing his father publicly guaranteed to the Allfather that he would not take another mate both angered him and broke his heart. He always cared deeply for one such being. Angrboða met him in mind, she engaged him in ways he knew this Aesir never would. He always thought she would be his other mate, that seemed a common occurrence on most every realm, even Asgard had such partners, though they called them ‘Mistresses’, but the Allfather stated specifically it would not be permitted. Arden informed him it was to do with lineage. Though most men in Aesir court did indeed have mistresses, the King would not, so an illegitimate son would not be able to usurp his legitimate brother’s rightful throne. It made sense, it kept the line of succession precise and easy to follow, but it was about to lead to a very miserable union for him.

“My son.”

Loki looked at his father, almost falling out of the chair he was in. He righted him immediately. “Father.”

“She is here. She is not as bad as the brother, Norns be praised. I did everything I could for you, to have the Casket brought back, to have you see the Jotunheim I knew before. It is so close, I can taste it. Wait until you show your sons how it was, how it will be again. And a daughter, if you have one, to show her flora long made dormant by the frost. I see it so clearly. A little girl, seeing a flower bloom for the first time as her brother, our future, your heir wields a seidr beckoned toy sword. Norns but it will be glorious. You will be there to give them this, knowing you did this for them, for them all, the whole realm.”

Loki swallowed at his father’s dream, not voicing the pressure he felt from it. “Are you planning to not see it yourself, Father?”

“I grow weak, I do not think I will see it again in all of its glory, but I will hold on long enough to see it grow, to see my first grandchild from you come to be.”

“That is something of a deterrent, I would delay such to keep you longer.”

“Don’t jest with me in such a manner.” His father chuckled. “I know the bargain with regards to mates is not a fair one, Loki, but there is no way he would have agreed otherwise.” Loki swallowed. “I know you care for Deric’s daughter, and she is a good being, but it must not result in a child.”

“I understand.”

“Good. The princess, she is key to everything. If she does as she is supposed to do and gives you your sons, she will have given us new hope. And who knows, the Allfather was given the Allmother in such a manner and they care for one another, perhaps you will come to see the Princess in the same way."

Loki very much doubted it.

[peakysabrina]

Gioia: chapter 2

Warnings: slightly NSFW and kinda fluffy lol 

Rich people have a terrible habit of procreating, and of parading their obnoxious children around Central Park, for everyone to see, for everyone to ogle, stop and compliment. For young single women, it was a bit like window shopping, a way of shaping their future, of knowing what they wanted: two boys and a girl? A nanny or two? Twins?

“I want a girl. That’s all I know” Edith said, letting out a good deal of smoke from her cigarette. She never smoked at home, but once she got out the door, it was all she did.

“A girl? But girls are so... fussy. And demanding” Jocelyn countered, frowning. There was a mother, right in front of them, who apparently had no help, and had resorted to tying a rope around her toddler, like a dog’s leash.

“And who better to deal with fussy than me, the fussiest of them all? The difference, Jocelyn dear, is that I’m a spoiled princess, but I admit it; you don’t” Edith chuckled. She was not wrong, but miss Jocelyn Dune would never feed her ego by agreeing.

“You are spoiled. You are probably the richest girl in all New York, so I guess it isn’t all your fault”

“Of New York? No, of Poughkeepsie, maybe. I do have my dreams, though. Of being the richest woman of all the United States. And I want all the diamonds, all the dresses, and all the hats I lay my eyes on” Edith stated, getting up suddenly. Jocelyn, ever the loyal companion, got up as well, and followed her best friend, even if she didn’t have the faintest idea of where they were going.

“And how are you going to achieve that?” miss Dune enquired, hiding her mockery behind her gloved hand. “By marrying someone even richer than you?”

“I have other methods. But if a truly wealthy, good-looking man wants to marry me... well, who am I to deny such a request? Especially if he’s handsome. I cannot, and will not, resist a handsome man in a good suit “

“What’s with you and suits? If the bank account is interesting, he could wear burlap for all I care”

“Oh Jocelyn... seriously, you’re so simple. And I say this with all the love in the world” Edith concluded, sighing loudly. “We’re going to visit my ticket to bigger and better things. With some luck, I’ll show you the particular allure of a handsome man in a good suit. Just wait and see”

Jocelyn Dune rolled her eyes, unfortunately used to Edith dictating their every step. There were girls who would die to be this close to the MacMillan heiress, and she was not about to give up on the social standing simply because she could be quite unpleasant. Besides, what did she mean about having other methods of making money? Why would she want to? Didn’t she have everything she wanted, down to her undergarments? And why were they turning the corner to 7th Avenue, when there was no one there they knew? That block was a bit shadier than their usual seamstresses’ studios, who went to the MacMillan residence anyways.

The shop Edith seemed to be looking for ended up being little more than a hole on the wall, leading to a flight of stairs, descending into complete blackness. The way she walked said that she’d been there plenty, but Jocelyn was a complete stranger in the musty environment. There wasn’t a single noise, not even a rat (thank God), nor steps, nor...

“Edith MacMillan. This is Jocelyn Dune, my friend” Edith spoke out of nowhere, when the stairs gave way to a dimly lit landing. Standing there, guarding what seemed to be a heavily reinforced door, two slim, yet tall men, with olive skin and heavy black hair. In their hands, strapped to their torsos, machine guns. Actual machine guns, the type that would kill her from a very good range.

“Edith, what is going on?” miss Dune herself asked her friend, her voice a mere whisper.

“Miss MacMillan, welcome” one of the men uttered, and both lowered their heads. Edith herself smiled, and advanced to the door, pushing it open. Jocelyn followed, her heart beating in her throat. Even if those people knew Edith, what was stopping them from killing them?

“Is that Edith? Edith, welcome” this time, it was a woman’s voice, the kind of voice a mother had. Jocelyn herself, who was not one, knew it too well: the woman who had given birth to her was a suffocating nuisance.

“Mrs. Changretta, hi. This is my friend Jocelyn Dune” Edith MacMillan said, walking up the the counter, and placing her hands on it firmly. The other woman, the mother, wasn’t visible, but the sound of steps meant she was approaching. Finally, about a minute later, she was visible: a short, kind-looking older woman, with grown up children. She dressed modestly, in black, a veil over her head.

“Pleasure to meet you” Jocelyn replied, more out of habit than actual sentiment. The woman looked over her, analysing, and didn’t seem to be too displeased, but wasn’t euphoric either, by any means.

“And you. My name is Audrey Changretta, and me and Edith have known each other for quite a bit, haven’t we?” mrs. Changretta informed, putting on a pair of glasses, and looking at Edith with a much more satisfied expression. Clearly, and as always, there was a favourite, and it was Edith.

“We have. And I’m very glad that’s the case. Jocelyn was curious about my little hobbies. So I brought her here”

“That’s good, very good. We like newcomers” mrs. Changretta said, winking at Edith, without any humour whatsoever. If the black garments didn’t say it, that look on her face screamed it: a widow. “How was the champagne at your last party?”

“Divine! Like the party itself, actually. See, Josie, it was mrs. Changretta who supplied the beautiful champagne and other beverages for my birthday party” Edith informed, her eyes sparkling as they always did when she thought of parties in her honour, where everyone’s attention was hers. “But, mrs. Changretta, I must protest: your son kindly delivered the bottles, but refused to stay. Is it something I’ve done?”

“No, no... my Luca, he’s just a very busy man” the older woman responded, and... could it be? A twinkle in her eye? Of course, speaking about her child would do that, but there was something else; something like... hope.

“Of course, I understand. Is he here? Or at the docks?”

“The docks. Do you need more champagne? Maybe some gin, or wine?”

“Some more of that Italian wine I tried last time I was here, if it’s not an inconvenience. About three cases, if that’s possible?” Edith requested, writing down her order on a piece of paper, and handing it to mrs. Changretta, along with a cheque. “There are some other things on there, from other clients”

“Yes, yes, he’ll be able to get this quickly” the widow nodded, looking over the paper. “I’ll get this to him”

“Thank you. Also, please tell Luca that I am beyond thankful for the brooch. It is gorgeous”

There it was, yet again: Jocelyn saw it, clear as day in the middle of the darkness and humidity: acknowledgement, hope, nostalgia, and the smallest hint of happiness. This Changretta woman loved her son, it was obvious, he was her whole world; and, whoever Luca was, his mother wanted Edith for him, as much as she wanted to breathe, and certainly a lot more than she wanted to live.

“He said it matched your eyes. Please, don’t tell on me; he wouldn’t like to know you were privy to his reasoning behind the gift” mrs. Changretta replied, a kind arm around Edith.

Oh yeah, there was no mistaking it: the alcohol dealer, Italian no doubt, but with a vague British accent, wanted Edith MacMillan to be her daughter-in-law. As if one of the richest women in the country could fall in love with a gangster and a criminal. But Jocelyn Dune was forgetting one thing: the man did have a fine taste for jewels.

[imaginesonurface]

SEVEN KINGDOMS - P3

Loki X Reader

Warning: dirty dancing (?), sexual insinuation, swearing.

Part 1 | Part 2

The first kingdom they were visiting was Flora. It was ruled by a sweet little fairy. Thanks to Derek, you were welcomed in every kingdom. The kingdom of flowers and plants was famous because of it’s abundance of, well, flowers and plants. Everything seemed shiney and a little bit fogged like a dream “Welcome!” the fairy said in the sweetest tone “You’ll find a little surprise in your room. Hope you enjoy the stay. Oh! And as usual we’ll have the welcoming ball tonight and tomorrow we’ll have the meeting during our lunch.”. 

Night was just a name, it was never dark in this kingdom. As soon as you got into your room you found out that the little surprise were candies and drinks “Sweet” you stated as you devoured everything. So did everyone else except for Loki. After you ate, you felt sooo tired that you decided to take a rest. Which lead into a nap. You woke up hours later, feeling a little bit dizzy. Still, you got dressed to the ball. This time you picked a green dress, full of flowers and an irregular bar. Again you opted for a braid but only two strings of the front of your hair matching in the back and falling with the rest of your curly hair. You ate more candy before leaving your room to the garden where the ball was happening. As soon as you stepped in the grass, you notice you were barefoot but didn’t care. You continue to walk towards the group dancing in a big circle and joined them. You didn’t know why you were doing it. 

After a while, you noticed there was more candy and ate it, increasing your dizziness. As you turned you could see everybody dancing. But not just any dance. They were body to body, holding each other closely. You saw Violet and Loki, your brother and the queen, Natasha and Captain, Thor and another fairy. You felt the urge to dance like that too. You searched for a lonely body in the dancefloor but instead felt somebody rubbing their body in yours in a serpentic dance. You joined the fairy who approached you and was passionately dancing till you felt hands on your shoulders “Is this the way a princess should behave in her first visit to a kingdom, princess?” smirked Loki. “Jealous much?” you snarked back. “Not as much as you when you saw me dancing with Violet.” he hit back. “I see you were enjoying soooo much” you said as you left pissed off to your room. You ate every missing candy in rage and layed down waking up only in the morning finding youserlf still dizzy.

You heard music coming from the garden and followed it. Walked through the tree walls of the palace in your last night’s clothes to find a group of little girls smiling and dancing around this golden egg. One of them invited you to approach and so you did. She handed you the egg as the other girls runned away from you laughing. When she stood in front of you, alone, you noticed: it was you. Younger you. She smiled and disappeared following the other girls.

Sure that you had what you were looking for in this kingdom, you ran to your brother’s room. You opened the door without knocking to a disturbing surprise: your brother and the fairy were wrapped in sheets, probably naked, passionately kissing. You slammed the door as soon as you opened it. So you decided to look for Violet so she would help you spread the news. You decided to knock this time, and you had to do it 10 times but never was answered. So you decided you could tell everyone by yourself. Walked to Captain’s room “Go away!” he screamed. Okay, this was not very Captainy. When you knock in Natasha’s room nobody answered it. You skipped Thor’s due the awkward sounds you heard coming from it. It was almost lunch time and your dizziness kept strong.

Almost giving up and only because it was in front of your room, you decided to knock in Loki’s room but as you reached the door it opened up. He had his black and green suit on and a smile of somebody who knows a secret. “I think I found what we needed from this kingdom.” you said walking inside his room. Noticing that he didn’t eat his candy, you went for it “You really shouldn’t, princess...” he tried to stop you. You put the egg down to eat the candy as you faced him in a classic childish act and was stopped by an indescribable wave of desire. You wanted that man. No, you craved him. You walked in his direction till your lips met his. You felt like your dress was too much and took it off in seconds, getting more and more investive in Loki “Princess, I really want to do it but I’m afraid I have to stop you” he said helding you back as you fell asleep in his arms.

-----------

“What have you done to us?” you stormed in the dining room where the fest was being served wearing you undergarment dress. 

You saw all of your team mates in similar outfits “Princess, why don’t you sit down and eat while we meet?” said the queen enjoying herself. “Okay, what happened here?” said Thor a little confused. “Well, my brother, you fell in the oldest trick: poisoned food. Flora fairies has the habit of... procreation.” explained Loki who also seemed to be having the time of his life. “Oh, and you couldn’t have warned us?” you bursted. “I’m the God of Mischief. Now tell me, how did the Goddess of Ambition got drugged and followed fairies sugestions?” Fuck. “Can we get out of this place?” Natasha was sick of it. “We can but don’t you want perhaps to put on some clothes?” Loki smirked. 

“I suppose you found the egg, princess?” said the fairy to what you nodded “As you can figure, it’s a symbol of our fertility. It brings new things to life.”. 

[jjkookie07]

Always and Forever- Chapter 1

Jungkook x Reader ( Mayze) warlock x vampire AU

genre: Angst x Fluff x Smut

Preview / Chapter 2

March 12th 1830

Namjoon ran through the dark forest holding a precious girl ,wrapped up in a blanket, in his arms. He held her so tight pressed against his chest that Jin was afraid he might break her. The witches came and killed the girl’s mother because of Namjoon. He felt like the tiny girl will hate him forever for that, but he was not afraid of anything, as long as his little girl was safe. He wouldn’t change a thing because in the end he still had the most precious treasure, her, Mayze. His deepest fear was not that he was inadequate for fatherhood. His deepest fear is that he was powerful beyond measure when it came to her and he would do anything to see her happy. It was his light, not his darkness that most frightened him. She was his life and only she got the power to destroy him and so he ask himself if he was able to protect her innocence as long as possible. She was conceived on a red moon night when magic is so strong it could give life to anything a witch desires. And so her mother was able to break into the ancient book that contained all the spells and she ripped only a page that was going to make a vampire able to procreate. She helped him and magic was indeed born nine months later. The child remained in the small village with her mom while Namjoon was watching them protectively from afar, only visiting them once in a while bringing the child gifts from all over the world.

The child lived a quiet life in the small town. She was going to school and was playing with her friends believing that her father was an artist that was traveling across the earth to play music to the most powerful kings and queens. Until she came ,he was a reckless vampire ,thirsty for blood and with an empty heart.

 July 18th 1833

"Jimin-ah come here. The tree is so tall, I can see the entire city from up here" Mayze called for her little brother.

"Dad is going to be mad if you fall from there. Come down here" He called holding his hands around his mouth.

"You are a scaredy cat" She replied back singing the words. Jimin dropped his fists next to his body angry that his sister was going to get them in trouble. He came closer and grabbed a branch proceeding to climb up. When Jimin got closer to her she held her hand out for him to take, helping him next to her. They were the same height even if she was born first. When he was seven he got to meet his older sister. When Namjoon brought her she was so small, afraid and different. Her hazel eyes, her blonde hair, her white skin, it startled him at first but then all he wanted to do was protect her.

"You know it's unladylike like to do such boyish acts" They were both startled by Namjoon's voice as he was resting his back against the tree. "Seokjin made lunch. You better hurry if you like a hot meal" He then disappeared into the house.

"Can I sleep with you?" She stood by Namjoon’s bed waking him up by shaking his body with her small hand. He stirred in his sleep, his eyes shooting open finally setting them on the figure of his daughter that was clenching his shirt. "Sure baby" He moved closer to Seokjin and placed his arms on her waist raising her body on the air before gently placing her on the bed, under the covers. "I dreamed of the bad guys again" She whispered and nuzzled her head against Namjoon's chest. His arms were wrapped protectively around her small, frail body. "Don't worry princess they are long gone" Seokjin said, starling both Namjoon and Mayze. Ten seconds later little Jimin opened the door and walked towards the bed." I want to sleep here too" He whispered rubbing his eyes. "In the middle. The kids in the middle" Said Seokjin making Jimin crawl on top of Namjoon and then next to Seokjin. He grabbed his sister's hand and kissed it. " Don't worry. I will protect you. Hearing his words the two parents smiled as their hearts were filled with love and adoration for the bond that formed between the two little souls.

 August 20th 1834

"How did you meet Jin-appa" Jimin asked curiosity playing in his eyes as he was holding Namjoon's finger and walking back home. He took the little male on a walk through the woods in search of wild fruits.

"I met him before you were born. It was a really really cold night and I was returning from an expedition in the far lands of England. He was in front of a house on fire holding you in his arms. He was so burnt but he still refused to put the baby you down." Namjoon stopped and squatted in front of Jimin. His big arms were holding the little male's elbows. "I approached your father but he was so scared that he wouldn't let me help him. He was dying, I could see his life floating away through his eyes but he was fighting for you. I gave him to drink my blood and I took you both to my house." Namjoon wiped the tears that were running down Jimin's chubby cheeks and pulled his little body in his arms, against his chest, slowly patting his back. "How was my mommy?" The question startled Namjoon that was watching in distance with widened eyes. "That's a story that papa is going to tell you okay?" He stood up still holding Jimin and sprinted home.

"I love you Namjoon-appa"

"I love you too little man"

March 10th 1835

"Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!" Namjoon and Seokjin sang as the kids were waiting patiently in front of the baked pink and blue cakes that Seokjin kindly offered to make. It was their 10th and 12th  spring. The flowers were bloomed and the bees already invaded the big garden that was extended on 3 yards of land. This wasn't the day they were born but the day they choose to celebrate another chapter in the book filled with their memories from the year that passed. Spring suited them so well. The nature was coming back to life, fighting the horrors of the winter. It was a reminder that no matter how much evil is in this world there was still light and nothing can harm you as long as you have family. Always and forever. It was a promise they made and they were going to fulfill.

Jimin gave Mayze a small box wrapped in a silk hand-chief. Inside was a doll with red hair made of cloth. "Daddy helped me sew it because I am not allowed with sharp objects" Mayze took the doll and hugged it close to her chest. It was a very precious toy that she was going to keep forever.

"I have something for you too" She handed him a wooden box that she could barely hold. He opened it and took out from there a horse and 3 soldiers made of clay. She carefully spend the past month trying to make them look as realistic as possible. She even painted them brown,red and black. "I love them. This is amazing" He started jumping up and down next to the table. This was a night they were not going to forget.

March 10th 2009

He lit the incense and candles and placed them on his altar. Passed the sachet through the incense smoke and put it on one side, next to the body. The brunt scent invaded the room and it was making breathing difficult.

Jungkook dipped the knife in the blood then sliced the heart right in the middle. The blood dripping from the heart was mixing with the one in his bowl. He dipped the tip of his fingers in the bowl and wiped them in strange shapes along the man's body while repeating " Three times three, Now set me free.Free me from my dark despair. Uncross! Uncross! I break this curse. But let not my simple spell reverse I wish no ill, nor wish him pain I wish only to be free again." The man opened his eyes and stood up from the table. Jungkook just performed an exorcism spell on the mayor of the city freeing him from the dark demon that was controlling his body, making him kill almost half of the city.

"You've got really great powers there little boy." The mother said to her 12 years old son. Jungkook smiled and took a towel to clean the mess from his hands. "I want to be the greatest warlock that ever lived on Earth." He confessed his goal to the women.

"And you will be my dear."

 September 2nd 2010

As he was walking back from the woods with his backpack full of plants and rocks he felt like he was followed. He turned around but none was there. Jungkook stopped and let out a piercing scream, releasing a great power that sent the vampire that was behind him flying away, impaling him on a branch. There was nothing that was scaring him ,the vampires always came but not even one got the privilege to touch him. He arrived home but the door was ripped off. He threw his backpack and ran inside. The scene in front of him was going to mark him for the eternity. Three wolves pulling his mother apart. Instead of crying like a normal child at his age would, he raised his arms above his back and closed his eyes whispering "Ventum veni, da mihi potestatem. Perdere omnia." A strong wind formed, flying the wolves away in their human form with deep cuts across their bodies. Jungkook walked closer to her and caressed her bloody face that was unrecognizable . His mother was holding tightly in her palm a bracelet that he took and placed it in his pocket. He needed to consecrate her so her power will go to the ancestors. A little boy was arranging the funeral of his mother.

May 14th 2016

Namjoon looked at Mayze with cold eyes. His fist was clenching tighter and tighter seeing the rebellious attitude of his daughter. She looked at him still trying to look confident despite the fear that was sending chills down her spine. She loved him but now she was wondering if he loved her. Her own father trapped her into a marriage she did not want. Hoseok was a real gentleman and he loved her despite being rejected several times. He could wait for her because true love can't rush in, and her was someone Hoseok wanted to hold forever.

"Why are you looking at me like that, father?" She asked leaning more comfortable in the big chair across the fireplace.

"You are disrespecting your husband." Namjoon motioned towards Hoseeok that was busy putting more wood on the fire. The smell of brunt wood was invading the big open living-room.

"And you are disrespecting me" She fired back. "I would not be able to look at him and not remember that it was your choice. You could have at least compelled me" She was talking calmly trying to hit the nail and make her father angry.

Seeing that her father wasn’t going to reply to her,suddenly she stood up, turned around and walked out the door. Hoseok  stood up as well and followed her out the doors.

"Don't follow me!" She yelled hearing his steps close behind.

"Hey! Give me a second. Please, let me tell you how I feel" He grabbed her elbow to stop her ,turning her around to face him. His hands were placed securely on her lower back forcing her to stay pressed against his chest.

"Talk..." She shuttered unable to look at him in the eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you okay? I just want you to understand that I really want to have a family with you. I was also left heartbroken by someone. I had her in my mind for centuries and then I saw you. You took my breath away. I have never seen someone so beautiful. Your eyes hide such sadness that I want to erase and replace it with joy. I want your cheeks to hurt from smiling. The witch made the bond marriage but it's us that will make this least forever. "

Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult. The world changes but we are not. We just try to keep up with it, to survive to get used to every new thing. How long does that take? What if the world changes everyday? We get trapped in the new universe and in our run to accumulate information, we lose ourselves. We should just pick up from the world what suits us. So we don't have to change everyday. She saw kings raise and fall, she saw people have power then being consumed by it. Now she was wondering if all this is worth it without love? Is it worth living an eternity playing pretend with someone your father decided to bond you with? She was torn between being the perfect daughter and having what she always craved for, love, love, love. She had so much love to give and it was making new cracks on her heart everyday. What if she could love Hoseok? But what if she couldn't?

June 17th 2017

"Kookie" Taehyung called the younger male that was slowly walking on the side of the road. "I need more daylight rings" He said and grabbed Jungkook's shoulders to stop him.

"How many?" Jungkook asked slowly raising and eyebrow, intrigued by the older male's request.

"About 50 or more." Taehyung saw the shock on Jungkook face and felt the need to explain. "I need an army.I need power to control the city."

"Do you realize how many stones you need? " Jungkook pushed past Taehyung and started walking towards the city.

"I do and I have them. And as for power you can chanel someone really powerful." Taehyung said appearing again in front of Jungkook.

"Like whom?"

"Namjoon"

Hearing the name, a smile creeped its way on Jungkook's face. "I actually wanted to go and make an alliance with him. We have a deal."

"I will send someone to bring you the money and the stones" Taehyung called after his friend that was moving further and further away, towards New Orleans"

July 28th 2017

"We have a dinner tonight" announced Seokjin earning the attention of everyone in the room. "We always have dinner like at night, that's when we eat dinner." Hoseok replied making Mayze laugh.

"Well we have a more special dinner. There is a new warlock in town and we'd like to keep him on our side." Namjoon completed what Seokjin just said.

"Is it safe to bring Hana?" Jimin asked being concerned about his daughter's safety.

"I can stay at home with her. I am not in mood for family quality time" Yoongi offered. Him and Namjoon never really got along. Maybe it was because all he cared about was Hana and Jimin and Namjoon was always a control freak. He remembered well how he laughed when they expressed their desire to adopt a human child. He was against it at the beginning but seeing how bubbly and adorable Hana was he gave in the role of grandfather, always spoiling the little girl with everything she desires and her parents were not going to give it to her.

"Okay so it's set. We will actually need to cook. He is human." Seokjin walked happily towards the kitchen followed by Mayze and Jimin. “ Actually he is a witch that eats human food” said Jimin. “You make it sound like <he is a cat that eats dog food>” Mayze mocked Jimin, earning a slap on the arm with a spatula. “ Seokjin! Jimin is hitting me with your new spatula” Mayze called for her father in a fake crying voice.

As they were waiting for their guest the large dinning room was filled with a calm melody from the grand piano placed in the corner of the room. The whole house was decorated in rococo style. Every piece of furniture being white and gold. Everything was spotless no dust no blood spots on the floor from the natural lunch Namjoon delighted himself with. Suddenly the three meters doors were opened against the wall and a black shadow made its way inside. The stranger took off his hood and smiled at  everyone that was eyeing him from head to toe. 

“I was born on the night of Samhain, with both dark and white magic inside me. I am the new warlock in the quarter and I may be your ally and your friend in the darkest hour and offer you my powers to protect your loved ones” Jungkook said walking closer towards the table.

[jerseydeanne]

MM new handle, comments

Most people, the media, school, religion say that narcissism and being in love with oneself are negative traits, yet people who succeed the most socially are like that ! Sparkly Meggie is one example among countless others.

Us ladies, especially spinsters like me or those unhappily married, we can't help but envy Meggie ! It's understandable since she's living every girl's dream with a real life prince ! What makes things worse is that she's excessively in love with herself when most of us females are insecure creatures. If she was discreet and quiet, she would be less hated.

Let's be honest, us single ladies are all jealous of Sparkly Meggie ! We wish we were living such an amazing magical story too :-)

Pleaaase help me ! What can I do to try and replace Meghan in Harry's life ? I promise to lose weight ! How could I meet him and try to seduce him ? I want to be a royal too !

Mama Carole Middleton must be absolutely GUTTED ! Scandalised, outraged, infuriated, exasperated ! She knows her darling daughter Kate will no longer be British people's "Princess of Hearts" ! A glamorous star like Meghan is a very serious rival and that's why Carole looked so glum yesterday in her car. Besides, a royal insider has said that Sparkly Meggie is already inventing a heraldry for her family and having signet rings made for all her relatives ! God only knows how long the Middletons will tolerate this offense.

Awwww ! Meghan is so, so, soooo lucky ! I'm a 35 year-old obese spinster and in my wildest dreams I wouldn't imagine living such a f/air/yt/al/e ! She must be an exceptional, outstanding, magnificent, extraordinary, phenomenal human being for having such a shiny lucky star and for God to bless her existence so much ! Meanwhile, here we are, us mere mortals and peasants, reading about her magical life in front of our computers and piling on the pounds ...

I want to create a signet ring to wear on my pinky finger like Mama Carole ! I wonder how long it took for the Middletons to invent their heraldry ?

Mama Middleton must be over the moon right now ! Her life plans have succeeded beyond her wildest dreams ! Same thing for Countess Meghan :-) The Middleton family and Sparkly Meggie must all pinch themselves in ecstasy, euphoria and disbelief ! If we all had mothers like Mama Carole, we could all become Princes and Princesses :-)

Awwww such wonderful news without a doubt for Countess Meghan ! Not married yet to her darling ginger but already a royal auntie :-)

Yaaaaay ! Long may this elite family live, prosper and reign over us mere mortals ! Them reproducing, procreating, multiplying, proliferating is a guarantee to the betterment of the human r/ace. David Icke would say the reptilian r/ace obviously. Now these oustanding beings are pushing Harry further and further from the throne, this ginger army hero will marry his beautiful Californian fiancée with a much lighter heart. Soon will the UK and the Commonwealth also rejoice at the birth of Kevin, Stacy, Chantelle or Jordan :-)

Yaaaaay ! Long may this elite family live, prosper and reign over us mere mortals ! Them reproducing, procreating, multiplying, proliferating is a guarantee to the betterment of the human r/ace. David Icke would say the reptilian r/ace obviously. Now these oustanding beings are pushing Harry further and further from the throne, this ginger army hero will marry his beautiful Californian fiancée with a much lighter heart. Soon will the UK and the Commonwealth also rejoice at the birth of Kevin, Stacy, Chantelle or Jordan :-)

Hahahaha :-D the Windsors must be livid ! Outraged ! Consumed with hate and anger ! 20 years later and Diana is still infinitely more loved than all the royals together, serves them right, especially Charlie T.a.m.p.a.x. & C.h.l.a.m.y.d.i.a.

Charles and C.h.l.a.m.y.d.i.a. could at least have come and pay their respects ! After all, they shared many precious moments with our darling Diana, moments she probably cherished her whole life.

Only for you my fellow DM readers, I have exclusive news to share from a royal insider : Meghan Markle was supposed to be there too but she couldn't make it because of a last minute crown and tiara fitting with the Queen. FACT.

Where on earth is C.h.l.a.m.y.d.i.a - Park Your Balls ? The least she could do was to give a little speech !

Same thing for Prince Harry and Meghan Sparkle, they have similar facial features : close set eyes, nose shape.

[yoolee]

(1/3) I don't ever interact much on Tumblr, but I wanted - no, NEEDED - to express how much I adore your Saizo fics, and by extension your other SLBP drabbles. The epilogue to 'Stay' took my breath away. I am in awe at how perfectly you write Saizo, how easily you capture his voice. I squealed throughout every story because his affection and adoration for MC is so apparent yet subtle beneath your prose. 'Little One' is a personal fav for its tenderness, 'Stay' is a tour de force and...

AKoaDK, while hot, just amazes me for how loving the whole scenario is. Every fic you’ve written is just so on point with character, voice and detail that I wish you wrote for the app itself. If you don’t mind a question– do ideas for stories/drabbles come easily to you? And is the actual writing mostly a breeze or a struggle Regardless, please know that you’ve got a very eager fan who thinks you’re awesome and will read anything you write (especially if it’s Saizo 😍). Keep on doing what you do, girl. PS: for real THANK YOU for an amazing epilogue to ‘Stay’. My heart could not handle being broken into so many pieces with the original ending. Still loved it but everywhere hurt afterwards… 😭💖

Oh my goodness ;.; I REALLY HOPE you don’t mind me posting this instead of responding privately! If you’d rather me take it down, I will repost as a text with it anonymous.

I have read this like five times because it genuinely mademe tear up ;.; god I don’t have words. Thank you. I have so many feelings aboutSaizo in particular and about HIS feelings and I am so damn glad they are getting across because I wouldn’t have themif the original authors of the app weren’t so good at what they do and so if Ihave come in any way close to evoking the same thing I am thrilled. I AM ESPECIALLY happy to see you say that about AKoaDK becausethat’s how I feel too - I know it’s smut and I know it’s exciting and all thatbut it’s an expression of love and that’s so important. That’s the MOSTimportant. I’m a romantic sap y'all.That’s why I love SLBP so much. There’s so much depth and passion to play with,and it isn’t just the love story,it’s these rich and wonderful characters with rich and complex lives and their love in turn is rich and complex and layered with so much energy and so many moments and I justlove it, those moments, and I want to share my love of them and have MORE of them so I try and make them and knowing that I am doing so justsatisfies this craving in my heart  and is the most satisfying and wonderful thing to hear ;.; SO YES. MY GOD, THANK YOU. All my love

And for your question! They do and they don’t! Once I havean idea, the actual writing of it flies by. As often as not, it’s actually really hard to capture my thoughtsquickly enough, so I write out of order, because if I think of something I feel‘fits’ I have to quick scramble to write it down, and then I come back laterand figure out how everything connects. I tend to write ‘out’ from the center–90%of the time I have NO idea where I’m going with something. I have one, keycentral point, and I start there and it comes as I go and I hop chaotically aroundto whichever point pops into my head next. It seems to work for me? I call ‘emmy snowball moments. Like, with Waffle Cottage, it started as three-sentencething, and I posted it, and @mai-dreaming built on it, and the 'snowballmoment’ was imagining Shingen charming one of the princesses out of her dress,because that freed up the dress to go on the MC, and it exploded from there.And even then, to give an example, the Kenshin bits of the Waffle CottageChronicles were some of the last bits written, and Stay was written completely out of order, with bits addedback in on my first re-read when I noticed certain characters hadn’t appearedwho needed to, and I used them to reinforce ideas that were going to come laterthat I’d already written. I DID write it all at one time, in one long computer session, but just not in order. 99% of what I write is done in one fell swoop, MAYBE two because sometimes I have to go to work snrk. BUT it is also why I lean so heavily on @juniperotomewho is amazing and gives me legit and thorough feedback, recommendations and ideas and helps make my ramblings alittle more clear for an audience/reader who doesn’t have the benefit of beinginside my brain to know what I meant. She is an amazing editor and catches somany things and gives me so many key phrases and moments and helps me tone downand clarify things.  NOT AN EASY TASK. 

But, I have no discipline. If the inspiration isn’t there, I got nothing. I have twooutstanding fic requests from my giveaway months ago and trust me I sit overhere in SHAME because I want to write them, and I just need to sit down and doit, but I haven’t found my 'snowball moments’ to write out from yet. I keepevery prompt sent to me, because I am always hoping the snowball moment willhit, but I make zero progress untilit does and sometimes it takes awhile and sometimes it may not come. Whichreally means I just need to make some up and try them - the act of writinginspires more writing, which is what happens with some of my headcanon posts.If I start with the 'easy’ ones, the ones that are harder for me to write comea little more easily once I’m in writing mode.  I have this ridiculous sense of obligation toinclude everyone once I’ve started XD but some are much easier than others; Istruggle with Yasu, in part because he IS one of my favorites, but you have topick like which one of him you’re writing, boy goes through a couple variations@.@ and I also struggle with Kojuro because he’s just too organized and calm,you can’t just randomly plonk into ridiculous shenanigans like you can withYukimura and, as established, I am impulsiveso characters that require planning don’t come as easily. I deal best inridiculousness.

I re-edit everything becauseI typically don’t re-read my shorter stuff until like a week after it’s posted,and then I edit like fifty things. I’ve already edited the Stay epilogue threetimes and I only posted it yesterday XD I wish I could just get it spot on thefirst time but I’m too impatient, but every time I re-read something I’m like'that phrase is ugly let’s fix it’ or 'I’m gonna add ALL the sentences here’ (Iam a comma and parenthesis abuser, I sprinkle them everywhere for decoration -I write like I talk) and that’s where my impatience in the typing babble stream comes back to haunt me. 

I LOVE slice of life. I love the romance and everything too,but I love the idea of this world and these characters so I really enjoywriting all of the ridiculous little moments I imagine happen in their day-to-daylives. I think it makes them more real! Which is why I love things like AU Sasukebeing the first one up clamoring for pancakes and Shigezane cracking dad jokes whilehe and the MC hide in a in the enemy’s linen closet ('Man I really feel likewe’ve been hung out to dry, huh MC?Huh, huh?’) and Ieyasu on babysitting duty once Nobu procreates having conversations with this putrid,squalling creature who has just eaten his strawberries. I’m big on happyendings, too. I am glad my one foray into angst has been well received and I amtruly proud of that, but I invariably have to find some way to sneak some hopeinto all things XD

That is a hella long answer.I like to talk about myself SORRY!

And thank you so much! I was sitting here thinking 'wow, mynext post will be my 200th on this blog what should it be’ and I was going togo with a like a very off-topic gif of a kid hugging a chicken and then I gotthis BEAUTIFUL and WONDERFUL ask and I sat here kind of weepy and sniffly for abit, so thank you thank you thank you.

[alchanabist]

"Daylight" Yo...put one up shackle me, not clean logic procreation I did not invent the wheel I was the crooked spoke adjacent While the triple sixers lassos keep angels roped in the basement I walk the block with a halo and a stick poking your patience Ya'll catch a 30 second flash visual Dirty cooperative Neptune blue head hurt splits Ridiculous fathom the splicing of first generation fuck up or trickle down anti hero smack (Cracking!) I paste the game to zero all completion green (Splash!) Took an early retirement pick a dream American nightmare hogging the screen I'll hold the door open so you can stumble in and you would stop following me around the jungle gym Now it's an honor and I spell it with the 'H' I stole from heritage Marry crutch stolen wretched refuge refuse my teaming resonance I promise temperance storm breed with a leaning conscious In a credence relax responsive with my sports outsource the wattage And I'm sleeping now (Wow!) And the settlers laugh You won't be laughing when your covered wagons crash You won't be laughing when the buses drag your brother's flags into rags You won't be laughing when your front lawn is spangled with epitaphs You won't be laughing And I hang my boots to rest when I'm impressed So I triple knot them then I forgot them This origami dream is beautiful but man those wings will never leave the ground Without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. Slacker bounded imitated tabloid headlined with the post Shimmy cross the centerfold, and a dead time in ghosts Giving crumbs for the better souls with seven deadly sins To hear the plane to crystal conscious To results a low life counting on one hand what he's accomplished Ok, lift me to activism chain activate street sweep Plug in deteriorating zenith pen dragging I hack swords wars for the morbid spreading of mad men Now he's got soul Sitting there licking log cabin in Charlie Chaplin waddle I could zig zag and zig 'em again for the bad dreams Sparking my brick wall windows another thicket storm And if one night in Gotham without the wretched Houston we have a problem Dispatch a task of infested patch of city goblins Who split how many freaks with box cuts of a high road bellow Heads ripped! Watch red bricks turn yellow Sort of similar to most backbones at camp Icarus Raw feelings start congregating at pamper for bickering Life's not a bitch life is a beautiful woman Your only call her a bitch because she won't let you get that pussy Maybe she didn't feel y'all shared any similar interests Or maybe you're just an asshole who couldn't sweet talk the princess Kiss the speaker wire or either pass it for some pagan thresh hold Stomach full of halo kibbles Wings span cast black of porn visuals hear the duck hunt ticker tape Vision and pick apart the pixels I got a friend of polar nature and it's all peace When I seek similar stars but can't sit at the same feast Metal Captain! This cat is asking if I've seen his little lost passion I told him: "Yeah, but only when I pedaled past him" All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way. All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day, put the pieces back together my way.

[peakysabrina]

Gioia: chapter 1

Alright so I’m still quarantined, and this time the Tonks household is thirsting over Adrien Brody.  Warnings: none here, might change later on. I’l probably pop this onto AO3 too 

Summary: Edith MacMillan is rich, beautiful, and one of New York’s most elligible single women. Her brother Clive handled everything to do with business, leaving her the room to visit a very specific tailor, and to fall in love with a very dangerous man. 

Rich people have a terrible habit of procreating, and of parading their obnoxious children around Central Park, for everyone to see, for everyone to ogle, stop and compliment. For young single women, it was a bit like window shopping, a way of shaping their future, of knowing what they wanted: two boys and a girl? A nanny or two? Twins? 

“I want a girl. That’s all I know” Edith said, letting out a good deal of smoke from her cigarette. She never smoked at home, but once she got out the door, it was all she did. 

“A girl? But girls are so... fussy. And demanding” Jocelyn countered, frowning. There was a mother, right in front of them, who apparently had no help, and had resorted to tying a rope around her toddler, like a dog’s leash. 

“And who better to deal with fussy than me, the fussiest of them all? The difference, Jocelyn dear, is that I’m a spoiled princess, but I admit it; you don’t” Edith chuckled. She was not wrong, but miss Jocelyn Dune would never feed her ego by agreeing. 

“You are spoiled. You are probably the richest girl in all New York, so I guess it isn’t all your fault” 

“Of New York? No, of Poughkeepsie, maybe. I do have my dreams, though. Of being the richest woman of all the United States. And I want all the diamonds, all the dresses, and all the hats I lay my eyes on” Edith stated, getting up suddenly. Jocelyn, ever the loyal companion, got up as well, and followed her best friend, even if she didn’t have the faintest idea of where they were going. 

“And how are you going to achieve that?” miss Dune enquired, hiding her mockery behind her gloved hand. “By marrying someone even richer than you?”

“I have other methods. But if a truly wealthy, good-looking man wants to marry me... well, who am I to deny such a request? Especially if he’s handsome. I cannot, and will not, resist a handsome man in a good suit “

“What’s with you and suits? If the bank account is interesting, he could wear burlap for all I care” 

“Oh Jocelyn... seriously, you’re so simple. And I say this with all the love in the world” Edith concluded, sighing loudly. “We’re going to visit my ticket to bigger and better things. With some luck, I’ll show you the particular allure of a handsome man in a good suit. Just wait and see” 

Jocelyn Dune rolled her eyes, unfortunately used to Edith dictating their every step. There were girls who would die to be this close to the MacMillan heiress, and she was not about to give up on the social standing simply because she could be quite unpleasant. Besides, what did she mean about having other methods of making money? Why would she want to? Didn’t she have everything she wanted, down to her undergarments? And why were they turning the corner to 7th Avenue, when there was no one there they knew? That block was a bit shadier than their usual seamstresses’ studios, who went to the MacMillan residence anyways. 

The shop Edith seemed to be looking for ended up being little more than a hole on the wall, leading to a flight of stairs, descending into complete blackness. The way she walked said that she’d been there plenty, but Jocelyn was a complete stranger in the musty environment. There wasn’t a single noise, not even a rat (thank God), nor steps, nor...

“Edith MacMillan. This is Jocelyn Dune, my friend” Edith spoke out of nowhere, when the stairs gave way to a dimly lit landing. Standing there, guarding what seemed to be a heavily reinforced door, two slim, yet tall men, with olive skin and heavy black hair. In their hands, strapped to their torsos, machine guns. Actual machine guns, the type that would kill her from a very good range. 

“Edith, what is going on?” miss Dune herself asked her friend, her voice a mere whisper. 

“Miss MacMillan, welcome” one of the men uttered, and both lowered their heads. Edith herself smiled, and advanced to the door, pushing it open. Jocelyn followed, her heart beating in her throat. Even if those people knew Edith, what was stopping them from killing them?

“Is that Edith? Edith, welcome” this time, it was a woman’s voice, the kind of voice a mother had. Jocelyn herself, who was not one, knew it too well: the woman who had given birth to her was a suffocating nuisance. 

“Mrs. Changretta, hi. This is my friend Jocelyn Dune” Edith MacMillan said, walking up the the counter, and placing her hands on it firmly. The other woman, the mother, wasn’t visible, but the sound of steps meant she was approaching. Finally, about a minute later, she was visible: a short, kind-looking older woman, with grown up children. She dressed modestly, in black, a veil over her head. 

“Pleasure to meet you” Jocelyn replied, more out of habit than actual sentiment. The woman looked over her, analysing, and didn’t seem to be too displeased, but wasn’t euphoric either, by any means. 

“And you. My name is Audrey Changretta, and me and Edith have known each other for quite a bit, haven’t we?” mrs. Changretta informed, putting on a pair of glasses, and looking at Edith with a much more satisfied expression. Clearly, and as always, there was a favourite, and it was Edith. 

“We have. And I’m very glad that’s the case. Jocelyn was curious about my little hobbies. So I brought her here” 

“That’s good, very good. We like newcomers” mrs. Changretta said, winking at Edith, without any humour whatsoever. If the black garments didn’t say it, that look on her face screamed it: a widow. “How was the champagne at your last party?”

“Divine! Like the party itself, actually. See, Josie, it was mrs. Changretta who supplied the beautiful champagne and other beverages for my birthday party” Edith informed, her eyes sparkling as they always did when she thought of parties in her honour, where everyone’s attention was hers. “But, mrs. Changretta, I must protest: your son kindly delivered the bottles, but refused to stay. Is it something I’ve done?” 

“No, no... my Luca, he’s just a very busy man” the older woman responded, and... could it be? A twinkle in her eye? Of course, speaking about her child would do that, but there was something else; something like... hope. 

“Of course, I understand. Is he here? Or at the docks?” 

“The docks. Do you need more champagne? Maybe some gin, or wine?” 

“Some more of that Italian wine I tried last time I was here, if it’s not an inconvenience. About three cases, if that’s possible?” Edith requested, writing down her order on a piece of paper, and handing it to mrs. Changretta, along with a cheque. “There are some other things on there, from other clients”

“Yes, yes, he’ll be able to get this quickly” the widow nodded, looking over the paper. “I’ll get this to him” 

“Thank you. Also, please tell Luca that I am beyond thankful for the brooch. It is gorgeous” 

There it was, yet again: Jocelyn saw it, clear as day in the middle of the darkness and humidity: acknowledgement, hope, nostalgia, and the smallest hint of happiness. This Changretta woman loved her son, it was obvious, he was her whole world; and, whoever Luca was, his mother wanted Edith for him, as much as she wanted to breathe, and certainly a lot more than she wanted to live. 

“He said it matched your eyes. Please, don’t tell on me; he wouldn’t like to know you were privy to his reasoning behind the gift” mrs. Changretta replied, a kind arm around Edith.

Oh yeah, there was no mistaking it: the alcohol dealer, Italian no doubt, but with a vague British accent, wanted Edith MacMillan to be her daughter-in-law. As if one of the richest women in the country could fall in love with a gangster and a criminal. But Jocelyn Dune was forgetting one thing: the man did have a fine taste for jewels.