#I thought I for sure was going to have a large section on “The Deceiver. The Deceived. and The Holy Spirit” but I stopped myself

[thejudgingtrash]

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!��� Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 27

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader   CW: Spoilers for HP OOTP, blood/injury, bullying, fighting, sexism A/N: There's a scene in here that references Chap 28: Snape's Worst Memory. If you want, go back and read the flashback scene. Everything that happens in the flashback stays the same aside from the addition of the reader.

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 27: OWLs

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The last month was spent with lessons being devoted to review as the OWLs drew near. McGonagall had given them their examination schedules and went over the procedure for the following weeks during their Transfiguration lessons. She’d gone over the rules; mentioned the ban of Auto-Answer Quills, Remembralls, Self-Correcting Ink and others of the same likes.

Nobody spoke a word to each other. Everyone was rushing to do any sort of last-minute studying. Emmeline kept quizzing James with cue cards but was interrupted as Marlene became too agitated, threatening to throw a shoe, politely, at the couple.

Nobody spoke a word to each other. Everyone was rushing to do any sort of last-minute studying. Emmeline kept quizzing James with cue cards but was interrupted as Marlene became too agitated, threatening to throw a shoe, politely, at the couple.

Their first exam, Theory of Charms, was scheduled bright and early for Monday morning and they were all forced to study into the late hours of the night. There was a manic gleam in Lily’s eyes as she re-read sections of her textbook, Remus flicked through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5; Sirius and Mary were surprisingly calm as they practiced locomotion charms, Peter was so nervous that he kept dropping his wand. Dorcas had to be given Draught of Peace while Y/N was left practicing incantations under her breath, charming nearly every object in sight for practice. After all, Charms never was her strong suit.

“Fuck it,” Marlene announced, standing up to grab a bottle from their secret stash of Firewhiskey.

“You sure you want to drink that now?”

“I’m not getting pissed, it’s one drink.” Before Marlene had the chance, Remus grabbed the bottle from her hands and took a swig. “That’s against the rules, McKinnon, and you’re underage.”

“Remus John fucking Lupin! Stop abusing your prefect powers!”

But she and Sirius, of course, had their ways of coping with the stress.

“Do you — mmm — think it will be that hard?” Y/N said in between kisses. Sirius was the one to approach her.

Y/N had been doubtful about their situation, considering Sirius was flirting with other girls but they weren’t together. She knew that — she had no claim and besides, she trusted Sirius enough to not lie and deceive her had he been with anyone else.

Sirius’s hands flew down to unbutton her blouse and shrugged off his shirt. “Dunno. I’spouse I’ll get all Exceeds Expectations or Outstandings anyway. Don’t need — ah — to worry.”

Y/N tilted her head away from Sirius who pouted and quickly pressed another kiss. “Maybe you’re the arrogant toe-rag.”

“You’re too mean to me,” sighed Sirius, wearing a bemused smirk. “Watch your mouth. D’you know how many women — nicer women — want my attention but you get it?”

Inwardly, Y/N felt her heart soar. He’d just eased her speculations. “Me? Watch it?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Fine,” Y/N then peeled herself off of him, buttoning her clothes neatly. Her lips twitched up in a knowing smirk. “Be like that then.” And then she walked out the door, leaving Sirius to whine and chase after her.

“Wait — I didn’t mean that — wait! L/N! Come back, please?”

She was growing really fond of Sirius. Even hearing his name made her heart flutter.

When Y/N finally went to bed, she remembered about the career consultation she had with McGonagall and her persistence in helping her become a Healer. It left her wide awake.

That morning was deathly quiet as Professor McGonagall stood in front of them in the Great Hall as desks were lined in neat rows. Her eyes scanned every student before her hand went to grab the large hourglass sitting on the desk beside her along with any spare quills, parchment, ink bottles.

“You may begin.” McGonagall turned over the hourglass and Y/N heard the flipping of papers. Her heart thumped in her chest as she took one last glance up and then lowered her eyes on the paper and began to read…

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June 8th, 1976

Maybe it was the combination of the sun beating down on their backs or the tension from the recent surge of Death Eater attacks or stress levels rising from OWLs and future NEWTs, but everyone was on edge that day.

Y/N was hiding in her little nook under the tapestry, watching the sun reflect on the water, glistening and calm before she rolled over, deciding to slip out. Yes, while it may be for her safety, being stuck with a partner to go everywhere was annoying and began to grind on her teeth. There was never a moment to be alone anymore, especially not with the stalking map.

They'd just completed their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. So far, Y/N thought Potions was by far the easiest examination, aside from Herbology. She wasn’t looking forward to Transfigurations…

But as she roamed the halls, fanning herself with her review notes and debating if she should go find Regulus, a few students ran in the opposite direction. Their faces were filled with curiosity and surprise. Some giggled, others gossiped and a few gave Y/N questioning looks.

In fact, so many students were following the rest. A student, most likely a third year, came running past Y/N before she stopped them. “Excuse me, is there something going on today?”

“Oh!” A look of recognition crossed the student. “You’re Lupin’s girlfriend, right?”

“Sure... Why?” “Something’s going on by the lake with the Marauders.”

Y/N navigated her way through the crowd and out to the courtyard. Under a beech tree near the edge of the Black Lake where she and Regulus had spent their day trying to swim, stood a group of students. All wore different coloured robes, huddling together in a large circle. Distantly, she could hear a faint buzzing and caughten a glimpse of gold. A golden Snitch.

She pushed her way through the students. Amid the circle, there was a flash of familiar dark red hair and Lily’s voice. “You make me SICK.”

Lily stepped out of the circle and the only thing Y/N heard was James’ bombing voice shouting after her. “Hey, EVANS!”

Angry tears threatened to spill down as Lily ran away. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Emmeline stormed out quietly, but unlike Lily, tears were freely streaming down. Y/N could hardly see over the bodies and faces of the crowd as they pushed and bumped into each other.

She was about to chase after Lily until the bright flashing of lights caught her attention. A gasp went around and there in the air was Snape, hanging upside down with only gray underpants waist down. Pink soup buds were all over his face and mouth and Sirius could be heard saying something.

“Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?” James taunts, talking to the crowd. A large gash was on his cheek, blood cascading down and droplets sprayed on his robes. A loud round of cheers went round.

Remus finally stepped in hesitantly, whispering into James’ ear as his hand clutched his forearm, lowering his wand. Whatever he must’ve said to James finally kicked in as Snape thudded to the ground. She caught Sirius’gaze who went to open his mouth but it was too late as she turned around.

They hadn’t listened to her. They went looking for revenge.

There will be another time to be cross. Her priority was to find Lily.

She ran through the corridors and passed by an elf going to start preparing for dinner before stopping them. She had an idea.

“Please, is there any way you can get Jelly slugs in the next couple of minutes and bring them to Gryffindor's common room?” The elf gave a curt nod.

Y/N bolted up to her dorm and there, a bag filled with Jelly slugs was left on a nearby table as she snatched it. She knocked a few times on the door, hearing Lily’s sniffling. “Can I come in?” There was a faint yes.

As she opened the door and closed it, Lily didn’t face her, but instead let out a bitter, “Are you going to say ‘I told you so?’ ” Y/N cautioned. This was already the most either had spoken to each other in a month.

“Do you want me to?”

Lily let out a weak laugh. Y/N rounded on her, coming to sit on the edge of her bed. It stayed quiet until Lily spoke again.

“I’d known that our... friendship was falling apart. But I thought — I thought maybe… he would change? I thought… he cared about me.” Lily finally broke as tears came cascading down her face.

Her heart ached at the scene and opened her arms wide to let Lily hug her. Her head fell into the crook of Y/N’s neck as she wept and she was there to hold her until she stopped crying. In a muffled voice and through thick tears, Lily explained what had happened and Y/N swelled with ferocity.

“I’m sorry…” She muffled into her.

Y/N’s lips pulled into a tight, uncomfortable smile. She only wished Lily didn’t have to go through that to realize Snape wasn’t good. “I’m sorry too.”

Lily pulled away, still leaning on her as Y/N floated a box of tissues their way.

“I brought you something. It’s silly but…”

She took out the Jelly Slugs. Lily wiped her tears away and took the bag, studying it for a while. Lily gave a half cry, half laugh and went to hug her again. They stayed like that for a while.

Nightfall came and Lily refused to leave the common room, wanting to avoid the Marauders and the other students there at the lake. Marlene and Dorcas stopped by with food for them but kept their distance, knowing that Lily wanted to be alone.

There was a soft knocking on the door, Y/N got up to answer it. Mary was there. She looked tired, but that's all Mary had been looking like these days.

“Mary?” Lily asked, “What is it?”

“It's… Snape. He’s been sitting outside Gryffindor’s portrait for hours now.”

There was a shift in Lily who immediately got up, pushed past them without a word and marched down the stairs; gripping her wand with full force. Both students gulped, knowing not to get in her way.

Mary then turned to her, “Potter asked to speak with you. He’s asking to meet at his dorm.”

And that’s exactly what she did. Y/N stomped up to his dorm. Waves of rage followed off of her as she swung the door open.

“Lupin, Pettigrew, you should leave.” Her voice was void of emotions, empty, like a machine, as she stared down at Sirius and James. From what Lily said and the little she saw, she wasn’t mad at them.

Not only had James and Sirius broken their promise, their cruelty reached a new high, causing the mess that they were all currently in, but Sirius had also broken the little trust she’d given him. Admittedly though, a part of her anger stemmed more from Lily’s behalf.

Snape, by every means, deserved payback. But the way it was handled… James and Sirius might as well be the same as Snape. A prank, a hex, a couple of jinxes were great, but had James gone further like he said…

“What the fuck did I tell you.” At her tone, they both seemed to flinch.

“He deserved it!” Sirius said, standing up.

Y/N ignored him, continuing to stare at James. It only then occurred to him that she wanted an answer. She expected more from him than she did Sirius.

“He called you and Evans a you-know-what. Then physically harmed you and Moony — and then everything else. Why are you angry? He’s a daft —”

“Daft?” Y/N mocked, “I gave you one job —”

Sirius laughed in blatant disbelief, “He’s right!”

“Silencio.” Sirius went mute and she turned back to James. “What were you trying to do?”

He scoffed, “I was trying to get him back. He doesn’t get to treat you like that and not get any sort of repercussion.” James folded his arms. “You seemed fine with the pranks, what’s your problem now?”

“I’m fine with pranks because typically you and your boy-band prank a group for laughs. Even if he deserved it, you already crossed a line by pulling his pants down! Had you pulled off another layer —” “I wasn’t really going to do that!”

“How would I know that?” Then she whipped around to Sirius. “And you! I trusted you not to go do something stupid!”

James looked at them confused. She unmuted him. Sirius was not having it.

“You’re up yourself. Get off your high horse — white knight shit!” “Do you want me to mute you again?”

Y/N sighed, walking to sit on Remus’ bed while both Sirius and James defended their actions. She wanted to throttle them.

“Pureblood snobs,” she said out loud. “You do realize that if anything, you just fueled Snape even more? I don’t doubt that now we all have targets on our backs because of your little stunt.” The idea of what Snape was willing to do now after severing ties from Lily only scared her. She was reminded that yes, Snape was a highly skilled wizard, known for his hexes, fondness of dark magic, lingering with wannabe death eaters…

They both gaped. “We didn’t think of it like that —” “Because you don’t have to think about it! You made it worse!”

It was silent after that, as the implication of what she said sunk in.

“I —” Sirius sputtered.

James sighed, going to sit on Peter’s bed across. “I’ll make it right.” He wore a large white bandage, sliced open from Snape. Man, fuck Snape.

“Fucking idiots,” she breathed out. She tried to ease the anger from her system entirely. Instead of fighting, she left the room wordlessly and went back to her dorm.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

June 12th, 1976

They’d just finished their Astronomy examinations which were held at night. The moon light was faint, ready to reach its peak in a few hours.

After Snape’s incident, Lily had given James the brunt of her anger. She gave him detention for the rest of the year with Professor Binns. Sirius had been given a good earful while she left Peter alone. Even Remus got a scolding for not stepping in and using his prefect influence.

Y/N had taken some time away from the Marauders, mostly out of respect for Lily who rightfully was upset about the entire ordeal. But with how the sections of the exam were taken, they were split into different towers; the girls in one tower, Y/N and the Marauders in another. She was forced to walk with them, because of their wonderful agreement: partners.

James was remorseful, along with Sirius who pulled her into a broom closet multiple times to apologize.

James, overall, was fairly beat up. After their squabble, the Snape incident, he and Emmeline had broken up. It had shocked her, confused as to why they broke up until Marlene chimed in; he’d asked Lily on a date during the Snape incident.

If it could get any worse…

Y/N decided to stay by Remus and Peter as they walked back to the common room.

Remus clenched his eyes shut every so often. He appeared to be in pain. His complexion was so pale she swore she could see the veins flowing with blood. It was as if his skin was not quite opaque but stretched thinly just enough to cover him. The muted light from the moon shone on his skin as a vein strained against his neck; waterline rimmed red, lips parted to suck in air like it was a struggle. She would’ve been worried, standing so close to Remus as his chest heaved, had he not looked like he commanded every inch of his body.

Remus was… alluring in the lighting. But his breathing hitched and everyone’s head rotated towards him.

“Are you —” She started.

“I’m fine,” he lashed. His tongue poked out to swipe across his teeth, gazing up to a nearby window. Alway the moon’s most watchful admirer.

The Marauders looked at each other.

“Alright,” Peter chimed, breaking the tension. “Moony’s been feeling down today. I’m going to take him to the hospital wing.”

James nodded, speaking cautiously. “Whiskers, let’s go?”

She shook her head. “I’ll walk back — go with him.” Remus needed their assistance more. There was this gaze in his eyes, golden and gleamed in the low light. It was like he was looking straight past them.

James shook his head. “No, we all stay in groups. It’s safer — for all of us.”

No, it’s safer for me. James and Sirius were fine, it was just her that needed the protection and the very thought made her sick.

They walked with her, stopping at the edge of the hall leading to the common room; both in a rush and Y/N didn’t want to hold them back anymore from Remus. They bid their goodbyes and James walked in front, leaving Sirius behind who gave a small smile and left.

She turned and walked to the portrait and there, sitting on the ground for the fifth time since that day; Snape.

“Get lost,” she snapped. “Lily doesn’t want to talk to you — let alone see you.”

As she was about to step into the portrait, Snape muttered, “Stupid Muggle.”

“Maybe if you washed your fucking hair for once, Lily would’ve returned your feelings. Go fuck yourself.” She hurled, wheeling around. Waves of rage flowed throughout her body as the boy stared at her, flooding with wrath.

The remark was his breaking point as he slipped his wand from his sleeves, his face pulled downwards in a sneer as he walked towards her. Before she could retaliate or register what he was doing, Snape already cast a spell. The look in his eyes told her to be scared.

Y/N flew backwards, thrown against the stone wall behind her as she fell onto the corridor floor. Her head slammed against the wall, hard. The impact was so great that the stone was covered in her blood, some of her hair caught onto the jagged edges. It was dizzying and she couldn’t properly think straight. She went to reach for her wand but saw it rolled a few feet away.

“Filthy Mudblood. I always wondered why a bunch of Purebloods would cling to you. Do they feel pity? Or are the rumours true and you’re their toy?”

Snape had bent down, wand digging sharply into Y/N’s neck. She mustered all the strength she had, yelling, “JAMES!”

“Pathetic,” he spits, “Can’t handle poor ickle Snivellus Snape?”

There was a loud ringing in her ears and her vision seemed to blur. She tried to push Snape away but instead, he pushed her against the wall roughly, her head slamming yet again. She cried out, tears now pouring from the hot white pain that shot right through her skull.

“James! J-James — Sirius…”

She could faintly hear the Fat Lady yell in the background, yelling at Snape to stop but. But he raised his wand, incantations ready to spill from his tongue as a bright red beam shot out from the darkness.

“Stupefy!” Instead of James, Sirius stood tall as he held Snape’s wand.

“Ah, the boyfriend — I mean, the other boyfriend. Well, Black, you need to start keeping her on a leash.”

Y/N was too disorientated to even understand what Snape was saying. Her head bled as she fought the urge to close her eyes. Sirius’ eyes were wide with terror as he stared down at Y/N as he digested Snape’s words.

Strangely, Sirius was quiet as he glared at Snape; chest heaving as if he was holding back.

“I’m surprised, really…” He flashed his menacing sharp teeth. “I thought it was a full moon tonight.” He grinned ear to ear, thrilled that had the upper hand now. All the colour from Sirius’ face drained in a second, completely caught off guard as the greasy-hair boy used this to his advantage. Using wandless magic, Snape pried his wand back from Sirius’ grip and quickly rose to his feet; wand pointed as he rounded him.

Snape continued, “Is that why your mates aren’t here? Helping that mutt of yours? Tell me, is he an experiment? Keepin’ him around for when you get bored.

“I bet you get bored often. What’s it like, having no family to return to?”

She didn't have time to even blink as two bolts of red came spurting out of each wizard's wand. Flashes of light illuminated each boy as sparks crashed together. The sound had Y/N scrambling towards her wand which landed a few meters away. Finally grasping her wand, she points it directly at Snape.

"Expelliarmus!" The last bit of energy she had was released, dropping her wand by her side as Snape's wand flew behind him. Sirius had walked up to him as he delivered a sharp punch to his nose and shoved him against the wall behind.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Sirius shouted. Snape became still, rigid in his hold.

"Why don't you take a trip down to the Whomping Willow tonight." Sirius muttered a counterspell as Snape picked his wand up and ran. “Deactivate the tree.”

As the echo of footsteps hushed, Sirius walks toward Y/N, taking her wand and his before shoving them into his pocket as he proceeds to lift her bridal style from the ground. She could feel the wandless magic he was using to help lift her, to avoid hurting her anymore. Before she could say anything, the pain in her nerves intensified. She felt like she was on fire. Sounds of whines and high moans left her mouth as Sirius began to panic, his feet surging forward as he ran towards the hospital wing. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Sirius whispered, but it was directed more to himself rather than Y/N. She scarcely noticed him squeezing her hand gently. “You’re okay darling.”

Her arms felt heavy and darkness rushed over her like a thick blindfold as the last thing she saw were tears blurring Sirius’ vision, his body shivering in adrenaline.

[haos-the-tea]

Title: Better Than You Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader x Wonwoo Rating: 18+ Warnings: Language, angst, low self image, sub boy, oral (male and female receiving), Face riding, Sexual praise, Degradation, Choking (male receiving), Over stimulation (male receiving), Voyeurism, Pegging, Edging, Light bondage. WC: 9.3K+

A/N: so this started out as just a means to write hate smut for Mingyu and then evolved into this. IDK how that happened. I also didn’t bother to edit this, so enjoy this first draft nonsense lol.

You didn’t hate your job. You really didn’t. Or, at least that was what you kept telling yourself so that you could get through this hell of a shift. Saturdays were always the absolute worst, the restaurant was crowded and it was always so loud, and orders came out almost as soon as you picked up the previous ones. It was hectic, but it was even worse when you were understaffed. 

“Thank you so much, that order will be out in just a few minutes.” You said, fake smile plastered onto your face as you bid farewell to a table that wasn’t a part of your section. Stalking through the restaurant your smile dropping as you did so, you found the cause of your troubles standing in the kitchen, chatting it up with one of the chefs while the chef worked.

“Kim Mingyu!” You exclaimed, using the noise of the kitchen to cover your shout. He turned to face you and you could see his eyes rolling when he realized just who was calling him.

It was an unspoken fact that you and Mingyu...did not get along. You boss generally made sure to try and schedule the two of you on different days, but that was getting harder and harder

when people kept asking for days off. Which is...fine, you just really hate working with Mingyu. Judging by the look on his face, the feeling was mutual.

“Dude, I just had to take A5’s order because they’d been in your section for twenty minutes and all you’d done was get them drinks! What the hell, man!” You complained, glaring up at the abnormally tall server. He simply rolled his eyes, glancing back over at the chef and bidding him farewell before brushing past you and making sure that he bumped your shoulder as he did.

“Lay off it, you’re not even a manager yet you’re so high strung. Just chill out, it’s not like they’re going to die if I don’t get them soon.” His response was typical, and honestly you were starting to wonder how he still had a job with how much he slacked off.

Turning on your heel you followed him as he made his way into the empty breakroom in an attempt to get away from your lecture.

“I’d be ‘chill’ if I didn’t always have to cover both my section and your section when we worked together. Why can’t you just do your fucking job?” You complained, eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he pulled his phone out of his locker. Mindlessly scrolling it for a moment, before he turned to look back at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Order up!” Could be heard in the distance, over the sound of your pounding heart.

“Well, I guess you better go grab that if you’re working both of our jobs.” Before turning back to his phone and laughing at something on the handheld device.

God you hope that you could keep from throttling the man, because you knew for a fact that you didn’t have bail money.

The night continued with Mingyu doing a minimal amount of his tasks, the only thing you were grateful for was that he at least wrapped his own silverware. You probably would have stabbed him with one of the unwrapped forks if he hadn’t. With a farewell to the rest of the staff and a harsh glare sent in Mingyu’s direction, you were finally able to leave around 12am.

During the drive home, all of the adrenaline from the shift seemed to fade away and leave you as an exhausted husk of a person. Your eyes threatened to drift shut even as you drove, forcing you to roll down your windows to scream sing out whatever song was playing from your phone in an attempt to keep awake. You just wanted this day to be over so you could enjoy your day off tomorrow and catch up on your school work, and so you didn’t have to see Kim Mingyu’s infuriating face.

He probably got away with so much shit just because he was tall and handsome, beautiful features seemed to get so many doors opened for people. Meanwhile, average people like yourself seemed to be overlooked and ignored, having to work twice as hard for something handed to those types of people on silver platters. It was probably the only reason Mingyu still had a job, considering your boss fancied him. It was pathetic how much she fawned over him, and he seemed to just soak up all the praise and attention. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles going white as you thought about the situation.

The tension sat with you until you unlocked the door to your apartment and smelt the wonderful aroma that told you that your roommate had waited up for you. Slipping your shoes off and placing your keys on their hanger, you made your way into the small kitchen.

“Nunu!” You exclaimed as your eyes landed on the male. His thick brown hair was sticking up in all different directions, which told you he had gotten a good nap in before you came home but that he had woken up to make dinner. He pushed up his thick rimmed glasses as he glanced over at you, a small tired smile on his face.

“Welcome home.” he muttered before returning his gaze back to the food he had just plated, picking them up and dropping them off at the table before looking back over at you. “Go change and come eat.”

You gave him a mock salute before doing as instructed. Swapping your work pants and polo shirt for some sleep shorts and a tank top, it had a tendency to get rather hot in your apartment at night even if you had the AC on. When you returned to the kitchen, Wonwoo seemed a bit more awake than before and was scrolling through some website on his phone as he ate. You quickly joined, scarfing down your food.

“How was work?”

With that single question, your expression dropped mid bite. All the irritation flooding back into your system causing you to aggressively stab the next bit of food that you were wanting to eat before beginning your rant.

“So you know that dick bag at work?”

“The really tall hot one?”

“Yeah, that jackass.” You went into extreme detail about the night, fury filling your voice as you spoke.

“Can you believe him!?” You exclaimed, shoveling the last bit off your dinner into your mouth as you heard Wonwoo sigh. He always told you that you needed to quit if this guy was as bad as you said he was and none of the higher ups would do anything about it.

“Sorry Nunu, Didn’t mean to yell...Fuck, how was your day dude?” You stood, taking your plate over to the sink and setting it down. You’d get to those tomorrow, you were too tired to do them tonight.

“Eh, not much different than normal.” He muttered, joining you at the sink. There was a brief pause before he turned to you. “My...my boyfriend is going to come visit tomorrow. He said he wants to meet you, and I mean you’re my best friend so…”

“Oh! Really? Ah, I’ll make dinner tomorrow night then so that you guys can hang out beforehand!” Wonwoo seemed to be appreciative of it as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into a tight hug. The affection caused your heart to soar, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his head on your shoulder “I’ll even clean up around the apartment while you’re at work.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as his hands lowered to firmly grip your ass. So that was how tonight was going to be. You knew that he had told his (currently unnamed) boyfriend about your little...sexcapades, and apparently the guy didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you and Wonwoo had legit feelings for each other...or at least, Wonwoo didn’t have feelings for you. Your feelings were still up in the air, but you would never tell him that.

“You sure your man is still okay with us doing...this?” You questioned, one hand slipped into his soft brown tresses as you whispered into his ear. Gently nibbling on the lobe of his ear. His response was simply to hike one of your legs up around his waist, bucking his hips forward into your heat. The action caused a soft moan to slip out of your lips, after the stress of today you wouldn’t mind having a round of fun. But Wonwoo seemed to need a reminder of the rules.

“Nunu, baby. I need you to use your words.” You instructed, gently stroking his hair as he gave your thigh a firm squeeze. When the two of you first hooked up like this, you would have never expected any kind of submissive side to him and yet looks could be deceiving. He let out a soft groan at the pet name before listening to your instructions.

“He...he thinks it’s fine.” He muttered into the shell of your neck, nipping lightly as he spoke. “It’s why he wants to meet you.” If you were being honest, you were a little more than surprised at that. You figured that your roommates boyfriend would be less than excited to meet someone who has been fucking their significat other with no strings attached for...multiple years.

“Oh he does? Is he just as dirty as you?” As you spoke, your free hand slid down to his pants to the prominent bulge that was hidden underneath the thin grey sweatpants. You would probably never get over just how large Wonwoo was, it was almost ridiculous. “Does he like that you get fucked by me? Or do you tell him that you’re in charge?”

Your grip had Wonwoo groaning before biting into the flesh of your neck, causing you to let out a loud moan at the sensation. As he let go, you pulled yourself away letting both of your feet return to the floor before turning the tables. You pushed Wonwoo back against the counter top, cornering him. One of your legs rested between his own, and you lifted that leg to press against the growing problem in his pants.

“Answer me Wonwoo.”

“No, he knows you’re in charge.” He told, squirming to try and get a bit more friction to his aching cock. You always liked making him needy, it was such a stark contrast to his normal day to day attitude. So seeing him like this was intoxicating for you.

Since he answered you so honestly, you decided to give him a bit more. Slowly, you pushed his sweatpants down his legs, your fingers gently clawing at the skin of his thighs as you did so. Once those were out of the way, you were pleasantly surprised to find that he had decided to forgo his usual boxers this evening. Leaving his thick cock on display for you.

“Oh, Nunu were you planning this?” You knelt down on the kitchen floor, leaning forward to give a small teasing kiss to the tip of his massive dick. “Did you make dinner for me, just so I’d fuck you against the countertops, while we talk about your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking the tip in your mouth, gently sucking on the tender skin as your tongue lapped up the drips of pre-cum from him. Your eyes never leaving his face as you worked, watching as he threw his head back and groaned. His hands gripped the counter’s edge so harshly his knuckles seemed to be turning white.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed out, the sound of it all so sickeningly seductive. “I did. I wanted...fuck I wanted it so bad.” he groaned out, bucking his hips up in an attempt to get you to take more of him. You gripped his hip firmly, pushing them back against the counter and successfully thwarting his attempts. The confession had you clenching around nothing as you pulled away from his dick with a loud pop.

“Oh Nunu, baby Nunu. You know all you have to do is ask. I’m always willing to make time for my good little boy.” Only he wasn’t yours, he had a boyfriend. You were just someone he got fucked by on the side, or well...who fucked him on the side. Despite the melancholy that thought brought to you, you kept up your role and gave a teasing lick to his length. “Does he ever take control, or is my poor little Nunu always domming when he just wants to be dicked down?”

The question along with the actions from your tongue had the male letting out small whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut as you took him into your mouth once more. Once again his hips thrashed forward, only being stopped by your hands as you grip him tightly.

You had been told previously all about Wonwoo’s sexual relations with his boyfriend, another thing that this mysterious man seemed to have no issue with. Once Wonwoo even confessed this boyfriend of his found it ‘hot’ that Wonwoo would tell you, which made you question just who your best friend was dating and how open this relationship would continue being.

“He doesn’t. Fuck fuck, i want it. Just like yo-you...just like you give it to me.” One thing you loved about Wonwoo was that his  moans were never loud, but beathy and that was an entirely different type of sexy. As a reward for his honesty you continued your mistrations on his firm length, taking him further into your mouth and pumping what couldn’t fit with your hand.

“No, no fuck. I’ll..cum, I want inside.” His words slurred together and barely made sense as he spoke but you knew exactly what he wanted. So you pulled yourself off of his delicious dick, and despite that being what he asked for he still let out a soft yet insanely deep whine. Missing the contact despite knowing exactly what he wanted.

You quickly slipped your sleep shorts from your frame, letting them drop to the floor. Wonwoo’s eyes watched you hungrily, waiting for you to follow through with his request only for you to flash a devilish grin at him.

“Catch.” Was all the warning he got, but the two of you had played this game before and he knew exactly what to do. Your feet were soon off the ground and wrapped around his waist, the tip of his cock prodding your entrance as he held you up. With practiced ease he turned and let your ass rest on the cold clean countertops, causing your frame to shiver at the temperature difference.

You trust your hips forward, rubbing his length against your folds and letting out a groan as you did so. He curled into you, waiting for permission. Soft pleading words slipped from his lips as he begged to be let in. Being just as needy, you decided to give in.

“Nunu, I want you to fuck me good okay?” Your voice was light and playful as your nails sunk into the skin of his back, prompting another low breathy groan from the male. “I want your boyfriend to be able to tell how good you fucke me, can you do that for me, baby boy?” He nodded against your shoulder as you gave him the final go ahead.

It was almost painful how slowly he entered you, filling you up completely while taking the most grueling pace ever. You knew what this was, his own little way of teasing you back. Sure Wonwoo enjoyed subbing and he was a very obedient sub but he was still a switch and things like this were how he made sure you knew that despite the position he took in your ‘relationship’.

“Fuck shit.” You groaned, throwing your head back and clenching around him as he bottomed out inside you. Despite how many time the two of you had sex, it always felt like the first time. You always felt impossibly full, and add him moaning in your ear into the mix and you swore you could come undone just from that. He started at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure to pull himself almost completely out of your before slamming back in. The feeling rocking you to your very core, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“God Nunu, you feel so fucking good.” You moaned out, “You fill me up so well baby, it’s like your dick was made for me.” Hearing your words seemed to spur him into a faster pace. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he slammed into you, there would surely be bruises there come tomorrow. You were once again finding another reason to be grateful that you were off work tomorrow.

“Fuck, your so tight.” He groaned, the husky low tones doing wonders to you. “Won’t last.” Was all he could bring out as his thrust grew more messy, less coordinated as he struggled to reach his high. One of his hands left your hips and found its way to your clit, gently massaging the small bundle of nerves as he continued his deep thrusts. It seemed like that was all you needed to be thrown off the edge

“Ah, fuck fuck, cum for me Wonwoo.”

And cum he did. You felt so full with just him, not bothering to worry about any kind of protection since you were on the pill. Your heart pounding a mile a minute as you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulders. Three little words lingers on your lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them. They weren’t your words to say...he wasn’t yours and he never would be.

***

Needless to say you were walking with a small limp the next day as you cleaned up around the house. Making sure to sanitize the kitchen countertops after your little...encounter there last night. Loud music blared through the apartment, you singing loudly along to the shitty songs about unrequited love. It was pathetic but at least it was a way to get the emotions out.

You had a few more hours before Wonwoo would be off work, and he boyfriend probably wouldn’t come over until after that so you weren’t all too concerned with your appearance at the moment, you’d probably wear something presentable and chit chat with the two for a bit before escaping to Joshua’s house. He knew about your stupid feelings and was willing to let you make an escape whenever you needed, he was a damn good friend.

To your surprise, a knock sounded through the apartment causing you to jump in shock. Grabbing your phone, you paused your music before returning the item to the kitchen table where it had been sitting. Grabbing the metal bat from beside the door, the two of you kept it there just in case of an intruder) you gripped the handle of the item before slowly pulling the door open. The sight that greeted you caused a rage to pool inside of your gut.

“Kim Mingyu, what the fuck are you doing at my apartment?” You seethed, glaring up at the male. A part of you was debating on just slamming the door back into his face, that would be pretty damn satisfying. Despite your irritation, he looked just as surprised as you felt.

“I’m here to visit my boyfriend and his roommate. But if you’re here, I must have the wrong place.” His words seemed to push everything into place and you were going to be sick. With how much Wonwoo had spoken about his boyfriend, he never mentioned the guy’s name...and the same went for you, you complained about your coworker on an almost daily basis but never mentioned that it was Kim Mingyu.

“Wonwoo? You’re here to see Wonwoo?” The words left your lips shakily, and you felt a rock sink into your gut. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would deny it, say some other name, that he literally did get the wrong address and Wonwoo’s boyfriend wasn’t going to be your arch nemesis.

He nodded, he fucking nodded and it felt like everything was crashing around you. Not only was Kim Mingyu a hassle at work, but now you were finding out that he was dating the guy you were in love with. It was all too much.

“Well, you’re early. He doesn’t get off work until 6.” You muttered, opening the door to let him in despite the urge to leave him stranded outside until Wonwoo got home. You heard the door shut behind you, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him. Thinking about all the things Wonwoo had told you about the mysterious boyfriend, it was too much. Mingyu knew far too much about you now. Fuck now you would have to quit, there is no way he would keep that information secret now that he knew it was you fucking his boyfriend.

“Oh, I know. He said his roommate was going to make dinner, so I wanted to come over to help.” You flashed him a disgruntled look as he explained his reasoning for coming over so early. A sharp comment on the tip of your tongue as he slipped his shoes off and entered your abode as if it were his own. “Though, if I had known you were his roommate I probably would have stayed home.”

There it was, that smug smirk that you wanted to punch off of his face. A fire grew in your stomach and you stormed into the kitchen, determined to start and finish dinner as soon as possible. You weren’t going to stay here tonight, hoping Joshua wouldn’t mind you coming over earlier than expected.

“Well, lucky for you. I don’t need help, so you can just stand around and do nothing. You’re already pretty good at that.” Hearing the sound of his footsteps behind as you entered the kitchen, the small chuckle coming after it. Almost like he was mocking you, like he knew about your hidden feelings for Wonwoo, like he knew this was possibly the worst outcome for your evening. At this point, you just wanted to know why he seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons.

You swung open the door to the fridge and bent down to begin pulling out the items you would need to start the meal. You could feel his eyes on you as you traveling around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spices, and it was infuriating.

“You know, you’re pretty hot when you’re angry,” His words caused you to practically choke on your own breath. “I wonder if that’s what gets Wonwoo off when you two fuck.” It was almost like he punched you in the gut. Of course, you knew that he knew but you definitely weren’t expecting him to just outright bring it up. Though you should have expected something as blunt as that from Kim Fucking Mingyu.

You placed the box of salt on the counter before turning to glare at Mingyu once more, only to find him almost directly behind you...much closer than he had been. Your mind flashed back to the night before, where you fucked Wonwoo in this very room, and now you were standing here talking to his boyfriend. You took a deep breath, swallowing your hesitation before continuing with your thought.

“Look, Wonwoo said you were cool with it. If it’s a problem then it stops, simple as that. I may hate your fucking guts but I’m not gonna keep fucking your boyfriend better than you do without your okay.”

That was...definitely the wrong thing to say but your anger got the better of you, your jealousy. It was a monster that was now fueling the previous wrath you had felt for the male. Before you could think about anything else to say, you felt yourself being forced back against the counter with his hands laying flat on either side of you, caging you in as he stared down with a dark look in his eye.

“See, I don’t think you do. I think you’re just a cocky, high strung, know-it-all who thinks she’s better than everyone else.” He muttered, his voice lowering into a range you had never heard before from the male. It sent a heat straight to your core, a heat you usually only felt around Wonwoo, this seemed to only fuel your anger. You quickly pushed your hands to his, rather firm, chest and shoved him backwards, hard enough to get him away from you but not hard enough to accidentally hurt him.

“And I think you’re a lazy jackass who hasn’t had to work a day in his life just because his perfect good looks have gotten him everything he could ever want.” You retorted, voice coming out almost as a growl. If a look could kill someone then Mingyu would have instantly caught fire from the heat of your gaze. Despite your anger, he still carried that smug grin on his face.

“Awe, you think I’m pretty? I mean, you’re right but it’s always nice to hear.”

“Fuck, you’re insuferable! Just shut up and leave me alone, so I can finish making this fucking dinner and then leave.” With that you turned back to the counter, furiously beginning your task as you tried to ignore the man who was currently plaguing your day.

“Make me.” Those two little words, you weren’t sure why but those two simple words seemed to throw your entire world into disarray. It was like a switch was flipped and you couldn’t stop the urge growing inside you, the urge to break him. You wanted him practically crying and begging for you, but...you couldn’t do that. Despite how much you hated him, this was still Wonwoo’s boyfriend and while he was okay with Wonwoo fooling around with you...you weren’t sure how Wonwoo would feel if you decided to humiliate his boyfriend. You gripped the bowl in front of you, trying your best to take a deep breath and stop yourself from doing the terrible things you were thinking of.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said make me. I thought that was like a trigger phrase for dom’s?” So he knew what he was doing, he knew it and was still being an ass. The switch broke, and all you could see was red. You turned back to face him, glowering up at him and your face flushed with an angry heat.

“What the hell are you trying to pull Kim Mingyu?” Your accusatory tone was harsh, even harsher than the tones you used at work. In fact, the only time you had really spoken like this to anyone was the one time Wonwoo had attempted to be a brat. You watched as a small shiver went up his spine, his eyes never leaving yours. His shit eating grin seemed to only grow as you took harsh steps towards him, causing him to back up until he was stopped by a wall. His back pressed firmly against it, but you refused to lift your arms and cage him in.

“Well, what if I told you I didn’t come over to help with dinner prep.”

“Color me surprised.” He ignored your sarcasm and continued.

“What if I said that Wonwoo wanted me to come here early, cause he wanted me to see how good he got it with you?” It almost seemed like he was determined to give you a heart attack today, there was no way Wonwoo would have said something like that. Right? As if he could sense the hesitation to believe his words, reached up and gently cupped your cheek with his.

“Or maybe, you’d rather I take control today?” Once again it seemed like he knew exactly how to push your buttons to rekindle the rage in your gut all over again. You reached up and gripped his wrist, yanking his hand away from you. Your earlier fervor returning, as you tightly clenched his wrist. The grip tight enough to show him just who was in charge here, but not tight enough to actually hurt him.

“Bad boys don’t get to be in control.”

“Bad Boy? Is that what we’re going with?”

“It’s better than me calling you a jackass. Which is the name i’d prefer to call you.”

Everything felt like a blur, soon you were pulling him towards you by his collar and slamming your lips onto his own. It was nothing like your kisses with Wonwoo which were full of passion, you filled this with as much anger as you could. You wanted him to feel your anger, your pain, you deserved that much if all you were going to be is a cock sleeve. A dom to get tossed back and forth between the couple. You weren’t sure if that was what Wonwoo was intending but, a part of you felt worthless in any aspect except sex so you might as well use what you’ve got.

Not bothering to break the heated kiss, full of teeth and tongue, you navigated Mingyu into the living room. Only then did you pull away, nipping at his bottom lip with your teeth as you did. He quickly went to bring his lips back to your own, but you decided to not let him get that pleasure and shoved him back onto the couch, his shirt riding up ever so slightly as he fell back onto the sofa that was much too small for him, let alone two people.

“We have rules here Mingyu, I know you have trouble following them at work but try not to be too much of a whore and break my rules. Got it?” He rolled his eyes as you began explaining, as if he were already planning on disobeying your very simple rules. “First is, we go by the color system. Got it?” He nodded. “The second is, you don’t cum until I tell you to.”

You might hate the male below you, but you weren’t going to do things he wasn’t comfortable with. You weren’t a terrible person, just an angry one. Despite these gratuitous warnings, Mingyu still seemed irritatingly smug.

“Wow, pretty weak rules. I doubt you could make me cum even if you tried.”

You were going to make him eat those words.

Which was probably why he was currently a groaning mess on your couch, hands bound behind his back and his jeans long discarded. In your hand was a small vibrator that you were just lightly pressing against his hard cock. He wasn’t as large as Wonwoo, width wise and was a bit shorter than him but it was still pretty impressive. You would never tell him that though.

He looked a mess, almost as if he was just about to hit his high. So you removed the toy, and listened to those beautiful whines escape his lips. He was in for a long ride if he thought this was the worst you were going to do to him.

“Awe, is the little whore upset I took his toy away?” Your tone mocking as you turned off the vibrator, waiting for his response to see just what you would do next. He seemed to be expecting something like this and grinned despite his heavy breathing.

“You’re little games aren’t doing shit. I think you’re just too scared to fuck me yourself.” Without hesitation you returned the vibrator to his dick, turning it onto its highest setting just so you could watch him squirm. He let out a loud gasp, throwing his head back against the couch cushions, his back arching off of the couch as he let out a sinful moan. Then it was over, you were once again pulling the toy away from him once again, giving a teasing lick to the silicone as he glared at you through hooded eyes. His breath coming out in small pants as he lost that high once more.

With a smug smirk of your own, you leaned forward your lips stopping right next to his ear. One of your hands reached down to slowly stroke his twitching member, you could practically feel how close he was.

“Oh I’m not scared, I just don’t want your trash dick inside me.” Much to your surprise you felt him tremble beneath you. So he liked being talked down to? That was good to know, you would definitely be using that to your advantage. It was a stark contrast from Wonwoo who lived for praise, you honestly thought Mingyu would be the same way.

“What makes you think I’d want your dick when I can fuck your boyfriend whenever I want? His massive cock fills me up so well, almost like he was made for me.” Your words were but a sinful whisper in his ear. Your teeth gently nipping at the lobe of his ear, pulling slightly as you spoke. The words plus your hand against his dick brought out another groan, almost like you had struck a match inside him. Before you could stop him, he pushed himself forward and sunk his teeth into the crook of your neck and you were almost certain that it was almost harsh enough to break the skin. A surprised yelp left your lips, mixing into a long moan at the feeling. Without even thinking about it, your grip on his dick tightened which seemed to be the exact reaction he was hoping for. The feeling pulling him over the edge as he released into your hand with a low guttural moan.

You pulled yourself away, staring at your jizz covered hand in feigned disgust.

“One simple rule, and you couldn’t even follow it. Wonwoo was right when he said you were fucking filthy.” You chastised, wiping your hand off on his naked thigh not giving him the pleasure of seeing you lick it off of your own skin. He hadn’t earned that.

“What’re you gonna do about it? Punish me?” The words left his lips just as your hand moved to wrap around his neck, squeezing the side lightly as to give him the choking sensation without actually putting him in potential danger.

“Whore, what’s your color?”

“Fuck, fuck green. So green, fuck.” Taking that response, you quickly tighten your grip which was followed by another strangled groan. You weren’t about to admit it, but he looked really hot like this. Underneath you, completely spent while still seeming to be gearing up for another round.

“Well then you better get comfortable, brat. Because you’ve really pissed me off now.” With every word your grip tightened just a bit more before you pulled away, ending the sentence. You turned your back to him for a moment, shoving off everything that had previously been on your coffee table before taking a seat on top of it, right in perfect view of Mingyu.

“If you even want me to think about putting your filthy dick inside of me, then you better not move. Got that?” You didn’t wait for his response as you pulled your shirt over your head, and quickly unclipped your bra, tossing both of the garments to the other side of the living room to be forgotten about. Without hesitation you began fondling your chest, tweaking your rapidly hardening nipples. Your eyes never left Mingyu, making sure he was paying attention and keeping still. A quick glance down at his lap and you could see his cock slowly starting to harden once more at the sight before him. His tongue slipped out of his mouth to lick his lips, eyes not leaving your chest as you fondled yourself.

While one hand continued to fondle your breasts, your other slid down to tease the waste of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want you little whore, maybe I’ll give it to you if you ask nicely enough.” In truth, you had no intention of giving him anything just yet but dangling his wants in front of his face would be so sweet a punishment. One he deserved for breaking your rules.

“Let me fuck you, I know you want it too. I’ve seen how you keep watching my cock, almost drooling aren’t you baby girl.” Instantly at his words, you stopped touching yourself and stood from the table. Without a word you made your way out of the living room and down the hallway, ignoring as he called out to you. To your surprise though, he was still in the same spot on the couch when you returned with what you had got to grab. A soft silk tie, black in color and well used.

You grabbed the previously discarded vibrator and returned it to its former position pressed against his cock and used the tie to keep it held there without the need for your hands before you turned it onto the lowest setting possible. Still sweet but enough to drive him crazy. Then you proceeded to push him back down into a lying position before stripping yourself of your shorts and underwear, tossing them into the ever growing pile of clothing.

“If you’re going to keep talking back, I might as well put your disgusting mouth to good use.” You said, swinging your leg over him so that you were now straddling his face. Your dripping pussy resting just above his face. “Get to work, bitch.”

He groaned out, loving the treatment you were giving him before he latched his lips to your wet sex, tongue lapping up whatever liquid he could as if this were his last meal. It was honestly really fucking sexy. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft breathy moan, which only seemed to encourage the male below you.

As another mewl left your lips you heard the sound of the front door being opened, and the distinct voice of Wonwoo calling out that he was home. Your heart almost stopped, you weren’t sure if you were excited for Wonwoo to discover the two of you or terrified. Mingyu didn’t seem bothered by it, not even really acknowledging his boyfriend’s voice as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue gave a particularly pleasing swipe just as Wonwoo entered the living room.

Your eyes met his brown ones and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he saw the compromising position the two of you were in. For a moment, you were concerned that Mingyu had lied and that Wonwoo would be upset. The relief that filled your body as he quickly closed the distance, leaning over the couch and pulling you into a deep kiss. If it was possible the kiss was almost better than the attacks to your lower region, if only because it was from Wonwoo. When he pulled away he let his forehead press against your own.

“I see you guys couldn’t be bothered to wait for me…” He didn’t sound upset at all though, almost as if he were hoping to catch the two of you in the act. You reached up and took a handful of his beautiful brown tresses into your grip, pulling ever so slightly as you ground your pelvis against Mingyu’s face.

“This little whore needed to be taught a lesson, Nunu. You’re boyfriend’s such a disgusting boy, so selfish.” Your words could barely come out as you felt your high coming closer and closer. Mingyu was in fact, pretty damn good with his mouth. You weren’t about to come undone yet though, so you released Wonwoo from your grip and pushed Mingyu’s head away from you. The action was met with a pitiful whine from the infuriating male.

“Oh shut up, you don’t deserve to make me cum. You’ve been nothing but a whiney, needy bitch. Like a dog in heat.” You watched him tremble as your words went straight to his dick, the vibrations from the toy doing just enough to keep him needy but not enough to get him too close to cumming again.

“You like that, being a little dog? Fucking sick, this little dog just wants a hole to fuck.” You reached down and gripped his cheeks in your hand, pushing your face just close enough for you to bite his lip before pulling away.

Your attention turned fully to Wonwoo, a small grin on his face.

“Nunu, can you show this dirty dog how to be a good boy?” A request the male was all too quick to comply with. At your instructions he stripped down under the watchful eyes of both yourself and Mingyu.

“Now i want you to sit on the table, right here. Don’t touch yourself until I get back.” You ordered, and Wonwoo nodded. As obedient as always. You glanced back at Mingyu, arms still tied behind his back, dick looking almost painfully hard and your slick covering his lips. Letting out a small chuckle before leaving the living room once more only this time on much shakier legs.

As you dug through your toybox you could hear the distinct voice of Mingyu.

“Come one Wonwoo, you should touch yourself. Don’t you wanna make her mad?” He was trying to sound in control but you could tell the over stimulation was getting to him. His words were pitchy, and he seemed to be trying to catch his breath as he egged on his boyfriend. Oh he was going to regret that.

“Not really,” Was Wonwoo’s reply. “She’ll keep you on edge for hours if you keep this up, Gyu.” The male scoffed, only his scoff came out more as a moan than anything else. You couldn’t see what he was doing but you could hear the distinct sound of the creaking couch to give away that he was in fact moving despite your instructions. Another strike.

“S-She...she’s not so tough.” Left his lips as you returned to the room, strap on in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. You could see Wonwoo’s eyes light up as he recognized the item, which just so happened to be his favorite of the strap ons that you owned. Keeping yourself behind the couch so that you obscured Mingyu’s vision of you until you had the extension snuggly strapped onto yourself.

Being the good boy he was, Wonwoo scooted himself to the edge of the table and leaned back on his hands as he waited for you. You stopped just in front of him, squeezing a nice amount of lube into your open palm and began coating the strap on, stroking the silicone toy as Wonwoo and Mingyu hungrily watched.

“Color?”

You question was followed by both men giving green, giving you the go ahead to continue. Kneeling forward, you pushed Wonwoo’s legs apart and he was more than willing to let you. His hand stayed pressed firmly against the hardwood of the coffee table, his fingers twitching slightly as he did his best to not touch himself or you until he got the go ahead. The order never came though, this was about putting on a show for Mingyu and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

You slowly prodded a lube covered finger at his ass, teasing the hole a bit before entering to begin preparing him for the much larger dildo. Once again the apartment was filled with your favorite sounds, his low breathy moans. Only this time they were accompanied by the almost whining coming from Mingyu as he lay helpless on the couch.

“See Mingyu? This is what good little boys get. Isn’t that right Nunu?” Your question was followed by a few soft teasing nips at his thigh, and another finger entering his tight hole. His moans were breathtaking to listen to, it filled you with confidence that you couldn’t describe. Your own core was practically throbbing, you had no idea you would enjoy being watched like this.

Your other hand reached up, taking Wonwoo’s massive cock and slowly pumping it just as you had done to Mingyu’s before this. The whimpers that left his lips as Mingyu squirming from his spot on the couch, desperate to be touched by something more than the vibrator that was still lightly buzzing. After a few more pumps of your hand, you removed the fingers and positioned yourself in front of the entrance.

“God, yes please please fuck me.” Wonwoo was practically begging at this point.

“Anything for my good boy.” Slowly, you pushed your hips forward to sink the thick black silicone dick inside of Wonwoo’s ass. You took a second to let him get adjusted, and to just watch him whimper below you, his back arching and his eyes screwed shut as he begged for you to move.  Which you gladly complied with.

“You’re always so good for me Nunu, my perfect boy.” You praised as you thrust into his ass, taking quick thrust just the way he liked it. Pulling out almost completely before harshly snapping your hips forward, making sure to stroke his cock in time with your trusts. The actions had him a mess below you and you could practically see Mingyu drooling as he watched the two of you.

“Mingyu, if you want this. Then I want you to rut against the couch. You better cum without me touching you or you won’t be getting anything else tonight.” It was almost instantaneous how quickly he moved, flipping over onto his stomach as he began needily humping at your couch, his eyes never leaving the scenario in front of him though as he used it to try and bring himself his much needed second release of the night.

The air felt hot and humid as the moans of the two males filled the apartment, and fuck it was hot. You weren’t even being properly touched and you were still feeling close. The feeling only growing as Wonwoo shivered below you.

“Please, please miss. F-fuck, pleae let me cum.” He whimpered, his eyes glancing over at Mingyu. Watching his boyfriend rutting against the couch like a dog in heat. For a moment you were brought out of the mood, remembering that you were just a third you had no part of the actual relationship that the two men had. Shaking your head, you quickly pulled yourself back, that was a problem for future you. Right now your only concern was making sure these men were properly fucked out.

“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Cum while your boyfriend watches me fuck you.” That was all he needed, you felt his dick twitch in your hand before thick strings of white cum left him. You continued your mistrations making sure to milk his orgasm for all it was worth. Your eyes drifted over to Mingyu, who seemed to be having a bit of trouble getting to that high once again and he looked down right pitiful.

After Wonwo had successfully come back to you, you pulled yourself from him as you decided to give Mingyu a little help. Sure you still hated him, but it would be cruel to not finish him off now.

“Stop and sit up.” You ordered, and surprisingly the male responded just as Wonwoo had, with obedience. You unlaced the tie and pulled the unsatisfying vibrator away from his cock, listening to more loud whiny moans leave his lips.

“Don’t expect me to be this nice again, you filthy dog. I have standards.” You muttered, before lowering your lips to his throbbing dick. You could hear Wonwoo’s breathy moans from behind you as he watched you suck off his boyfriend. Hollowing your cheeks and teasing his tip with your tongue seemed to be just enough to push Mingyu over the edge and you felt his thick hot release enter your mouth. Not wanting to make a mess, you just swallowed the salty liquid before pulling away and wiping your lips. His loud moans causing your core to ache in need. Which was another thing you would never admit out loud, his moans were just as delicious as Wonwoo’s.

“See? Was being good so hard?” You questioned, pulling your mouth off of his softening member. Sure you were left still needy but you could take care of that in the shower, your job here was done. They got what they wanted out of you and you’d see yourself out.

You went to stand once more, muttering something about going to take a shower and clean up when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around you from behind. Wonwoo carefully began unstrapping the accessory from your pelvis, letting it fall to the floor between you and Mingyu with a soft thud. Followed by his lips pressing small kisses against your neck.

“Gyu, think you can finish her off?” He questioned the fucked out male on the couch in between his feather light kisses. You heard a soft groan escape Mingyu’s lips, almost as if it were a hassle but he reached out and grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him.

“Nunu, it’s fine.” You tried to protest, but the words stopped dead in your throat as Mingyu’s tongue began to work you once again. A small curse leaving your lips as your hand found its way into Mingyu’s hair, causing him to chuckle slightly before his lips latched against your clit, his tongue working furiously to tease the nub.

“You really think we’re just going to let you leave after that?” Wonwoo questioned, his tone reminding you of the times he would switch. Taking control of your little scenarios and it had you letting out another embarrassingly loud groan. “You’re not leaving here until you cum.”

And cum you did.

A few hours later, after some showers, the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table with a small slew of pizza boxes since none of you had the actual energy to make dinner. It wasn’t awkward per se, but you certainly felt awkward. The two were casually chatting with each other as if what transpired in the living room hadn’t happened. You picked at the pepperoni on the slice in front of you. Sure you were hungry but couldn’t bring yourself to really eat more than a few bites.

“Hey, make sure to eat. You probably wore yourself out back there,” Mingyu mentioned, causing you to finally look up from your pizza and connect eyes with him. “You’re gonna need the food so you get back that energy.”

Your eyes flickered over to Wonwoo before returning to Mingyu. “I am eating.” You lied, lifting the slice to show him the small bites you had taken. “I don’t need you babying me.”

The sound of Wonwoo muttering your name had your attention on him once again, “You don’t have to be the hard one all the time.” Just like normal, he seemed to see right through you. A sigh escaped your lips as you reluctantly took another bite of the food. After you thoroughly chewed and swallowed the bite you spoke once more.

“I’ll be heading over to Josh’s tonight,” This had both men turning their gaze to you once more. The anxiety from before filled your gut once more, maybe you would even ask Josh if he was needing another roommate. “Give you guys some alone time, ya know?”

“What if...we said we wanted you to stay?” You were caught off guard by Mingyu’s declaration, fixing your nemesis with a harsh questioning gaze. He seemed to find the look amusing, once again returning to your game of cat and mouse. “Is that so bad? It’s not like you’re completely terrible company.”

“I’m not fucking you again.”

Your words had both men letting out their own unique laughs, the sound surprisingly made your heart flutter. Wonwoo’s was to be expected, but Mingyu’s that was new territory. Wonwoo took Mingyu’s hand, gently caressing the top of it with his thumb. You found your gaze lingering on the intimate action, a longing filling your chest and making you sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to just be a third that was kept around for fun times, but how were you supposed to tell them that when all your words seemed to die in your throat.

“We’re not asking for that. We...talked while you were in the shower, we’d like to give this,” Wonwoo gestured to the three of you. “A try.”

“You are aware that I absolutely hate your boyfriend though.” Which wasn’t a total lie, he was still infuriating but now that you were watching him with Wonwoo. You were seeing a side of him that you had originally not believed to exist, a side that wasn’t a complete ass.

“He’s aware, I told him all about our ‘loving’ work relationship.” Mingyu snorted as he spoke, rolling his eyes as he probably imagined how just yesterday had been for the two of you. “And we still want to give it a shot. He and I love each other, but he...also loves you.”

The confession has your heart stopping dead in your chest, eyes quickly moving back over to watch Wonwoo’s face heat up in a pink flush at Mingyu confessing for him.

“It’s the main reason I was cool with the two of you fooling around. I knew I had part of his heart, but so did you. It’s also why I wanted to meet you. It’d be easier on all of us if you and I also shared something, yeah?”

“You’re kidding right? This is all just some massive joke isn’t it? It’s not funny, guys.”  You felt your hands tremble lightly, scared that they would admit to their offer being false. That you’d be left alone and hurt at such a cruel prank. To your surprise though, Wonwoo reached across the table and took your hand in his own. Caressing the skin as he had done with Mingyu’s only moments ago.

“It’s no joke. I love you, and I hope you love me too...and can maybe even come to love Mingyu too.”

For the first time in a long time, your heart was soaring in your chest.

***

“Mingyu, I love you I really fucking do, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with you making me wait your tables.” You complained, shoving your boyfriend from behind as the two of you entered your apartment after returning from another ridiculously long shift at your mutual job. Mingyu laughed as he slipped out of his shoes so he could make his way into the apartment proper.

“But you still let me do it, just admit it. You’re whipped for me now~”

“Oh, in your dreams, Puppy.” You could tell the nickname hit Mingyu just the right way, by now you knew all the right buttons to press to tease him without even having to touch him. Slipping off your own shoes you followed him into the living room flopping down on the couch as he turned the AC on, muttering something about how hot the stupid apartment was.

Closing your eyes, your rested your head against the back of the couch in an attempt to relax despite still being in your work clothing. It was only for a moment though, as Mingyu moved to straddle your waist.

“Down boy, tonight’s Wonwoo’s night. I don’t have the energy to deal with your ridiculous sex drive right now.” You muttered, but didn’t bother trying to push him off as he leaned forwards to nip at your neck just the way you liked it.  He pouted against the flesh but did as he was told, stopping his ‘assault’ but not bothering to move off of you.

That was how Wonwoo found the two of you when he returned home from work, the both of you fast asleep on the couch without a care in the world. He watched his partners with a soft look in his eye, heart filled with love.

It wasn’t the perfect relationship but it was one he wouldn’t trade for the world.

[fig-newtons-official]

Floki and Ivar Peace Out and Do Their Own Thing Pt. 2

Sorry this took forever. These past couple of weeks have been… something. I hope that this turned out alright! I know where I want them to end up, it’s just a matter of making sure I don’t get too impatient and rush the story lol. The next section will take some actual research. If you want to be tagged, let me know!

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Naturally, Ivar knew that his mother would never allow him to leave. He also knew that it would be difficult to deceive Aslaug, given her prophetic dreams. Ivar puzzled over what he could say to convince her long enough for them to be able to leave Kattegat without her interference. Eventually, he and Floki came up with a story: Floki was working on an apparatus to help Ivar stand and walk like any other man and Ivar would have to be around Floki for most of the day to ensure that this imaginary mechanism was working properly.

They decided that leaving sooner was better than later. Floki agreed to gather most of the supplies needed for the journey. The only person that would have thought to question Floki was Ragnar, who was currently too preoccupied with preparing for his return to Wessex to notice any strangeness - other than Floki’s regular level of strangeness, anyway. The only thing that Ivar would need to bring were his own clothes, armor, and a weapon. He knew that taking a horse would be too suspicious, so he’d have to crawl. As long as he wore the heavier items like the armor, the rest wouldn’t be too cumbersome.

When he returned home, Aslaug was waiting for him in the mead hall, seated at the long wooden table. She took a sip from her goblet as she stared at him thoughtfully, the ghost of a smile on her lips. He knew that speaking to her was going to be unavoidable, so he Ivar pulled himself into the chair next to her. As he was doing so, she asked, “Where were you all day?”

“Floki is going to make me walk.” He replied. He had learned how to lie from the best, but unfortunately, the best was right in front of him.

Aslaug watched him carefully as she said, “Oh, is that so?”

“He’s making some sort of mechanism that will help me stand and move about like any other man. I don’t know all the technicalities, but it entails a lot of measuring, weighing.” Ivar explained coolly. He then shrugged, “Despite my insistence on having it done this evening, it’s unfortunately going to be a long project. It will take a lot of time and effort from both of us.”

Aslaug chuckled, taking another sip of her drink, “No one ever accused you of being a patient boy, Ivar.”

Ivar shrugged again, “You’re the one that raised me to be this way.”

Abruptly, she frowned, “I had a dream last night. It was about you.”

Ivar made sure that his dread wouldn’t show on his face. He was worried that his mother’s gift might tip her off to his and Floki’s plans. However, this was his one chance to go and be his own man. He wasn’t about to let some damned premonition keep him from that.

“Oh?” He asked, keeping his earlier cool. “Was it something nice?”

“I saw a beastly creature with a blue face. It could have been a man, but was too large. It was charging you like an animal and…” Aslaug began to blink quickly. She sighed and looked up to the ceiling, letting out a shaky breath. “And you couldn’t get away.”

Ivar furrowed his brow. A man with a blue face? “An ice giant.” He whispered, recalling tales that Floki had told him as a child.

“I’m afraid so.” Aslaug said with a small sniff. She pretended to scratch her cheek, but Ivar could see that his mother was crying.

“What could that mean?” Ivar asked.

“I’m not sure. But I fear that it may have something to do with whatever you and Floki are working on.”

Oh no. Ivar continued to act unfazed, even though he was beginning to feel dread creeping up on him. “I know what your dreams mean, mother. But that begs the question of what an ice giant want with a cripple and an old man?”

Aslaug finished off whatever was in her goblet and sniffed again. “I am not sure. I know only what the gods show me. And what they’ve shown me is that you’re in danger.”

Oh shit. “Why would I be in danger?” Ivar asked, leaning forward to gently touch his mother’s hand. “Kattegat is the safest place for me. Nothing can touch me here. You know this.”

Aslaug wrapped her thin, elegant fingers around his. “Yes, I do know this. So I need you to promise me that you’ll continue to do this. Tell me that you’ll continue to stay where it is safe.”

Ivar stared into Aslaug’s eyes. He was shocked to see that she was pleading with him. She was normally far too proud for such a display of vulnerability. She was truly afraid for him and it began to make him afraid for himself as well.

But even so, he promised, “I promise to stay safe.”

He could promise to stay safe, but not to stay. Technically, he wouldn’t be breaking any promises. Knowing that didn’t stop him from feeling strangely. He wondered if he was experiencing what his brother Ubbe called ‘guilt.’

She stared into his eyes for a moment longer, then nodded with a small smile.

Ivar excused himself to his room, claiming to be tired from all of his ‘work’ with Floki. Once he was in his room, he gathered what he needed. He sought to sneak out to Floki’s cabin under the cover of darkness after everyone else was asleep.

Ivar waited until the noises of his home eventually died down. Most of the servants finished their late night chores and had gone to bed. He could faintly hear one of the slave girls in one of his brother’s rooms. He guessed Hvitserk.

He slowly opened his window and threw his only bag out of it. He heard it land with a soft thud. He then crawled to the door, checked to make sure that no one was coming, then started down the hallway towards the mead hall.

As he approached the hall, Ivar peaked around the corner. Ubbe was slumped over the table, his head cradled in one hand, snoring. He looked like he’d been in the middle of studying a map before dozing off. Or he had drank too much. Either way, it was inconvenient. Shit. Of all nights for him to do this, it had to be this one.

Ivar slowly dragged himself past the table, peeking over at Ubbe to make sure that he’d stay asleep. Luckily, he was snoring so loudly that it was covering the unavoidable sounds of Ivar’s crawling.

Just as Ivar got close to his chair, Ubbe suddenly snorted with such gusto that he sounded like an angered boar, causing Ivar to jump. Ubbe snorted again and his eyes snapped open, having been woken up by his own snoring. He looked around in confusion, possibly wondering why he was at the table instead of his bed. Ivar froze, not even breathing, just watching his brother.

Ubbe grumbled and groggily wiped his eyes. He began to stand and pushed his chair back, bumping into Ivar. He turned around to see him on the floor. They stared at each other. Or, Ubbe tried to meet Ivar’s gaze, but his eyelids were so heavy that he could barely keep them open.

“You should get to bed, Ubbe.” Ivar said quietly.

“So should you.” Ubbe rasped, wiping his eyes again. He yawned. “What are you doing up?”

“Thought I’d stretch my legs and take a late night stroll.” Ivar quipped.

Ubbe grunted. “I’m too tired to say something clever.”

“You must be tired all the time then.” Ivar said, tilting his head and smiling.

Ubbe grunted again. “This is the worst possible dream.” He walked towards his room without another word.

Ivar breathed out a sigh of relief. He was fortunate to have caught Ubbe when he was too exhausted to be suspicious. Perhaps the gods were on his side, after all.

He found his bag outside of his window and made it to Floki’s cabin with no more interruptions. The boat was already prepared. Floki chided Ivar, asking what had taken so long. Ivar could only shake his head. As they set sail, he couldn’t help thinking about what his mother had told him about her dream.

@youbloodymadgenius @biobiopsy @prepare4trouble @artemiseamoon

[swimfuel]

Hey!! The X-men are literally my favorite thing and I was wondering if you could elaborate on how Scott is a knight of doom

YES OF COURSE!!!! i'll put it under a cut since i tend to ramble a bit & i'm pulling a bunch of explanations from people smarter than i am

the knight weaponizes their aspect; they have an inherent understanding of their aspect that allows them to exploit it completely. doom is the aspect of systems, restrictions/limitations, sacrifices, and endings.

one of scott's core themes is reclaiming his restrictions in order to serve others/the greater good! he takes the possible liability that are his faulty powers and shifts them to become an advantage, largely through the strength of his restraint and discipline. his role as a tactician and the way he sees sacrifices (more on that later) also mesh EXTREMELY well with the knight of doom.

i feel like the Wh*don run (specifically astonishing x-men #22-23) really highlights how scott can turn a situation on its head through exploiting his disadvantages to the point where they become tactically advantageous!! like, let's count the ways:

the ship the x-men stole from kruun is obviously bugged, so his team won't be able to communicate without being overheard. he realizes this, and uses that restriction (being overheard) as an advantage, by falsifying their course of action.

he has been left "without his powers"—he presents a restriction that lowers the guard of his adversary and grants him entry to their home base. he then subverts this by exploding the shit out of everything when an opportune moment arrives

HE LITERALLY EXPLOITS DEATH...... HE EXPLOITS HIS OWN DEATH...................FOR THE GREATER GOOD..........DUDE???? someone get this man an advil

some more thoughts, followed by some examples by people smarter than me:

he exhibits a similar pattern of idolization/realization with xavier irt karkat/HICand dave/bro.... not sure if this by itself is a knight-y thing but i think the consistent disillusionment with their role in defending their aspect is interesting (aka knight burnout, more on that later)

he is def willing to sacrifice shit for the greater good of mutantkind. the shit in question sometimes being his closest friends and allies. the examples that stick out to me are how he allowed beast to get tortured (utopia era) while executing his plan to solve All His Problems At Once & also when he sent x-force to the future to defend hope knowing it was going to be a one-way trip

that entire issue revolving around just how GOOD scott is at self-repression😭😭😭 i'm pretty sure it's post-schism utopia era i don't remember the exact issue WAIT NVM i'm pretty sure it's uncanny #518

seeing phoenix!scott as an inversion to (rogue of) life is also an interesting concept (unchecked growth!)

the amount of responsibility he feels he has to take on (partially due to his idolization cycle w xavier/xavier's dream) is also both knight-y and doom-y

and of course the instinct to protect the people around him --> being expanded into the whole of mutantkind (which, in turn, expands his sense of obligation)

everything leading up to revolutionary cyclops is also very interesting through this framework because its reminiscent of the knights & doom players in hs! the "taking on an insane burden" (phoenix force, whatever whammied mituna) -> the "resignation to the fate handed to him by his aspect" (his stint in prison, dead daves, sollux in general) -> the "refusal to accept that fate" (prison break, dave not wanting to use time travel, sollux fucking off into the dreambubbles, karkat coming to terms w his relationship w leadership) --> experiencing knight burnout at the end of revolutionary era going into death of x

im not sure exactly how to put it into words but everything about his childhood/teenhood... like being surrounded by forces seeking to control him and use him for their own ends..... idk

(from @/land-of-classpects-and-analysis, sections highlighted red are of particular interest)

HIS GIANT STINKING MARTYR COMPLEX.....DUDE😭😭

side note & ive mentioned this before but scottjean is an interesting parallel to davejade in a way i cant verbalize

Then there are the ones who may accept [the fact of inevitable human suffering], and so choose to live in high alert of any danger - any threats - as well as living in fear of what harm may befall them and/or their loved ones. It is this third and final group of people that so deeply marks that of the Knight of Doom.

Now, this might cause a few eyebrows to become quirked. After all, a Knight? Being fearful of something - nevertheless that thing being related to their Aspect? Knights do often present themselves as ruthless and fearless warriors, yes, but that is only because their Aspects and the world around them raised and called them to act as such. 

... A key factor in the Knight’s life, specifically before their journey truly begins, is that they are already well equipped with their Aspect.

... The Knight of Doom is one where their Aspect being all around them is far more bittersweet than anything else.

... What is important to acknowledge is that the facade the Knight of Doom puts up is not only to hide the fear they have for their Aspect, but it is most definitely there to hide the grief and pain they have not yet completely finished going through. Whether it’s been weeks or years, the Knight of Doom is someone who would rather hide themself away from these feelings than find a way to truly mend and heal them ... they have built a false wall between them and their suffering strong and thick enough to partially block it from their memory. 

... Knights are known to become extremely stubborn whenever people try to order them around and pressure them into doing something, and the Knight of Doom is no different - especially if they believe what they are doing is for the greater good. 

(from @/dahniwitchoflight)

Dahni’s Explanantion: “Doom can be a negative force that rejects and harms, fostering a sense of hostility or sadness. But, it is also the idea that you can pull backwards and cautiously and wisely withdraw into your own self.  It can be the idea of Control taken from the sharp Black and White Restrictions that everything in the world gets sorted into. It understands community necessity and need, responsibly pulling back and lowering you down into its lap to help wind yourself down. Doom then is an ultimate gentle Equalizer, instilling its players with an internal sense of Acceptance and eventually true Wisdom.”

Knight of Doom: One who Exploits with Doom or Exploits Doom

Knights hide a fear of a perceived fundamental failure with their Aspect behind a shield of confidence and obsessive effort. Their challenge is to learn to take it down a notch and to understand that they are skilled enough

A Knight is very skilled with using the rules and limitations of any game or session to their advantage. They skillfully fulfill any responsibility or obligation required of them with ease. They might use their natural caution and pessimism to make realistic choices and endeavors. They use and exploit any rule or limit that they can to their advantage. They might also be very good at exploiting any sacrifices made or any obligation or responsibility that they are held to. They might be very good at avoiding any unnecessary thing or person and are very good at recognizing when something is too futile to even bother with.

Likewise they might only focus on the necessary things in their game or session so they are likely to not do much unless it’s absolutely necessary. They would very likely be very meticulous with themselves about following the rules properly and constantly restrict themselves, maybe thinking they aren’t following the rules properly enough or not following the right ones. They might sacrifice anything they consider unnecessary about themselves or the way they live, sometimes even going too far with it, in order to be considered or thought of as less useless. They’re always trying harder and holding themselves to extreme self-imposed standards.

They would likely wait for the opportune moment to strike, though they are slow to move or act, they always will when something necessary needs to happen. Out of all the Doom players, a Knight of Doom seems like the one most likely to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. A Knight of Doom can also expertly use and exploit fire, bombs and explosions to their advantage, maybe they create flashy distractions during fights. They might even use decaying or dying things to their advantage.

(from @/communistvriska)

Role in the Session: Rather like the Prince of Doom, this role’s title kinda has “edgelord” written all over it, but that’s not a set-in-stone character trait. The first thing that comes to mind re: what the Knight Class and the Aspect of Doom have in common is a strong sense of obligation. The Knight of Doom is bound to take their duties and responsibilities Extremely Seriously, perhaps rather too seriously at first ... Knights also tend to be very protective of both their Aspect as a concept, and of themselves and those close to them; while the Knight of Doom isn’t likely to be outwardly aggressive, given Doom’s reserved, slow-burn tendencies, woe betide those who try to deceive or confound the Knight or their allies. One of Doom’s internal contradictions (which I find personally fascinating) is that the aspect is associated both with cynical resignation and with a profound albeit restrained sense of passion and persistence. Doom is what’s left after everything else gets burnt away.

The Knight of Doom will likely be a very skilled combatant, as the Knight is a class strongly associated with Strife / battle, and Doom is one of the more overtly destructive Aspects. I’d put them in the Top 5 Roles to use a cool flamin sword, at least. They’re not going to be eager to fight, per se, but they’re not going to have much trouble scaling the echeladder when it comes to that either. Internally, they’re likely to struggle with a perceived (but largely imagined) inability to fulfill their duties, and they could well stumble once or twice in their quest to be perceived as reliable and stoic, or as someone who their friends can lean on. They’re probably doing more than enough already, but if they’re not careful they might overexert themselves and take on too heavy a burden, and they’re liable to be crushed by their own expectation that they face their challenges alone. This is going to factor into their capital-Q Quest and the environment of their planet, and will be the biggest obstacle in their path to Ascension. A Knight’s duty is to protect their co-players, but their co-players also have to support them.

[wendimydarling]

Worship

Title: Worship

Summary: August puts on a front, but he finally receives the care that he truly needs.

Pairing: August Walker, First Person Reader

Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five |

Word Count: 1974

Warnings: Nudity, Oral sex

A/N: Okay so I know I’m the odd one out in that no one sees him capable of agreeing to this, but I just had to see this man get some sweet loving for once. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’d been watching him for months. August Walker, famed Hammer of the CIA, rough and rugged vigilante for justice. He was harsh, abrupt, blunt, and any other number of adjectives used to describe a determined man. But what everyone else saw as anger, I saw as a man who was starved for attention, though not in the way you might think. I sensed a poor relationship with his mother, a lack of touch as a child necessary to create the ability to bond with other creatures of this earth, to create empathy.

I intended to rectify this.

He and I built up a sort of relationship over the next few weeks during our latest assignment. Most of the time it would be just the two of us working late into the night, pouring over maps and classified documents to find what was needed. August had a mattress in his office where he slept instead of going home, because there were dozens of boxes of evidence to sift through and the brief wasn’t going to write itself. 

I started testing August too, to see how well my theory applied. I brought him some coffee, brushing my fingertips lightly on his shoulder as I set it down. No initial reaction. Hmmm. I let my hand linger a moment, slid it off his shoulders instead of lifting it, and walked away, staring at his reflection in the large glass writing board behind him. A sizable jerk and rotation of his shoulders. There it is. He didn’t want me to see how much it affected him.

I grew bolder as the nights went on. I’d purposefully sit close to him while we worked, making sure my thigh was pressed against his. When it got really late, I would give his shoulders a quick massage. If he called me over to show me a document, I’d lean in behind him, a hand firmly planted on his shoulder as my breasts grazed his back; our cheeks almost but never quite touching. I never received any indication that it affected him while the transactions occurred, but I could hear the shaky exhalations of his breath when I left, I could see in the reflections of the windows the way he closed his eyes and trembled after my departure. I took mental notes, organizing them into sections to process later.

On the last night there, once August and I finished our work, we celebrated with a bottle of scotch. I wore a soft blouse and a pencil skirt; simple, but effective. Sitting on the same side of the table as usual, this time facing him, I eyed him analytically as we chatted, my ankle resting against his leg. Once again he was perfectly stoic, but I knew better by now. Inside, I knew his body was screaming. I threw back the rest of my drink and set it down on the table, liquid courage coursing through me.

“August,” I said, bending forward and setting my hand gently on top of his wrist. August’s eyes locked onto my hand, and I could see the minute changes in his chest as his breath exited his lungs at a quicker pace. 

“August,” I repeated, “May I touch you?”

August looked up at me then, confused. 

“You already are,” he said cautiously.

“Not like this,” I murmured, tracing circles on his skin. “I want to touch you. All of you. And I think you need it. Do you trust me?”

To emphasize what I meant, I picked his hand up and placed the pad of his forefinger on my tongue, licking a slow line up to his fingernail. A twitch of the eye; the first visible change in his countenance since I started this charade. Interesting.

I kept up my movements, planting soft, wet kisses on his fingers and palm. August just sat there, watching, his breath coming faster and faster. I could tell it bothered him, but that he also wanted more. 

“Does this hurt?” I asked him, moving to his wrist. 

“No,” he lied, the muscles tensing in his forearm giving him away. I knew the painful feeling of abandoned nerves being touched for the first time in years. Just the lightest touch could send blazing fire through your body. I stood up, brazenly straddling his lap as I sat on his thick thighs. As I ran my fingers through his hair, kissing him with a gentle, open mouth he moaned, his hands coming up to grab my neck so he could take charge. I pulled away and grasped his hands firmly, shaking my head.

“Let me touch you,” I whispered, adjusting his hands so they were resting on my thighs. He closed his eyes but held still as I went back to his hair, brushing those curls with my fingers, making sure my nails lightly scraped his scalp. Affectionate. Like a mother should do to their son.

“Why didn’t she touch you?” I asked him softly, running a hand along the side of his face, my touch ever so light. I pressed another wet kiss to his jaw, just below his ear, my fingers working to open the buttons of his shirt. August fingers dug into the flesh of my thighs, and he audibly gasped in my ear.

“She did,” he rasped as my lips found his neck, “It just wasn’t kind.”

There it was. The admission of what I had expected all along: August had been beaten by his mother. My heart broke at the thought of a lonely little boy, hiding in his closet for fear of retribution, for being punished for something he didn’t do. I vowed then and there to heal whatever damage that woman had done that I could, starting with this.

I worked slowly, savoring the taste of August’s skin, pressing a kiss to each new part of his body I could reach as I gradually undid his buttons. His eyes were open now, hooded, watching me as I worked. I was surprised he stayed so still; that wasn’t like the Hammer I knew. Once the final button was undone, I pushed the rough cotton aside, following the lines of his torso with my hands until I could slide the cloth off his broad shoulders. I drank in the sight of his body, charting a map of valleys and highways through his muscles and hair with my fingers, using the few freckles I found as a guide.

I removed my shirt and kissed him again, slow and soft, his lips tasting of scotch. With a gentle pressure, I draped my arms around his shoulders, sliding my bare skin against his. Reveling in how hard he felt. How sweet he tasted. His mouth melted around mine, and I could tell he wasn’t used to kissing a woman so tenderly. I’m going to change that.

“Come with me,” I whispered, planting a delicate kiss on his lips. I stood up and laced our fingers, urging him to follow. August complied, conflicting emotions on his face as we wove through the boxes toward his office. My destination was clear and he wanted the same thing, but I knew that he was thrown off because he preferred to be in charge. I had purposefully asked permission, willing to let him wreck my body if that was what he wanted, and August knew that. So I think the fact that he chose this option instead had stunned him slightly; he was surprised at himself.

Upon reaching his office I turned to August, licking a small line on his bicep that ended in a kiss on his shoulder. He kicked his shoes off, and I kept my mouth on his skin as I fiddled with his belt and his zipper. Squatting, I followed the line of his legs with my lips as I pulled down his pants, receiving my first groan as I kissed his hardened member lightly. 

“Lie down, please,” I instructed him quietly, “On your belly.” 

August did as he was asked, his hesitancy fading into eagerness. I removed the rest of my clothes as he got comfortable on the mattress, his arms under his head. I knelt between his legs, trailing my fingers up the backs of his thighs. He closed his eyes and shuddered at the touch. Stop. My brain told me something about that touch bothered August and I knew, I knew I needed to be careful there. I moved on.

Hovering over his body and avoiding his ass for now, I placed open-mouthed kisses up his spine, exploring his body with my tongue. August finally relaxed for the first time since I met him. He was more vocal now; he moaned and sighed, his breath hitched when I pressed my breasts into his shoulder blades, and a small cry of delight left his throat when my fingers dipped underneath him into the hollows of his hips. His eyes remained closed.

I snuck my fingers into the waistband of his briefs, nibbling on his ribs to distract him from my hands. Leaving little lovebites on his side in my wake I inched toward his ass, peeling the fabric of his underwear off his body as I did. I sat back on my knees, admiring his physique, but August grew quiet, side-eying me as he waited to see what I would do. 

Lying between his legs, I walked my fingertips up his thighs once more, carefully observing the way August  squirmed. It was a pleasant squirm this time, not one of fear, so I kept going, spidering over the curve of his ass. My eyes may have deceived me, but for a moment I thought I noticed the ghost of a smirk on his face. Hmmm. More wet kisses graced his backside before I gently squeezed each cheek. August pushed his ass into the air and I smiled, kneading soothing circles into his flesh and licking wet trails of saliva everywhere that I could reach. 

August rotated onto his back of his own accord and I let him, knowing full well what he was after next. I kept my ministrations soft, still kissing, still worshiping the man that lay before me as I obliged him, hungrily lapping at the thick length that was between his legs. 

If I thought he’d been vocal before, that was nothing compared to the sounds August was making now. Loud groans filled the room, gasps of pleasure echoed throughout the building as I took him in my mouth, giving way to his desperate cry for more. My hands continued to worship him; they ran over his abs, through the hair on his chest, down his biceps to grasp his hips. 

August tangled his hands in my hair and gasped as I sucked him relentlessly, his eyes shut, his face scrunched in the concentrated focus of a man chasing his release. He was close, I could feel it. Come on, August. Come for me.

I swallowed him whole, constricting my throat around him and that was all he needed. With a guttural cry he came, spilling everything he had into my body. Licking off the last few drops, I kissed my way up his torso, gently nibbling on his earlobe as I lay on top of him. The rise and fall of his heaving chest was pushing me up and down like a roller coaster, and I enjoyed it. 

“That was…” August shook his head, unable to come up with any words. There was finally peace on his face, a tranquil calm that I hadn’t seen before. I smiled, continuing to kiss his neck softly as I spoke to him.

“I’m not even close to being done, August. Do you trust me?”

August nodded, looking at me in wonder. I caressed his face, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“Then let me touch you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five |

Tags: @littlefreya​ @sciapod​ @thiccgeralt​ @fucking-hell-cavill​ @brexrif​ @peakygroupie​ @viking-raider​ @constip8merm8​ @daniig95​ @elinalfrida​ @hell1129-blog​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @agniavateira​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @sofiebstar​ @wanderinglunarnights​

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

would it be possible to get an imagine of a gender neutral reader wanting to brush/play with jamil's hair? boy has fantastic locks ngl

What a fun prompt! And yes, Jamil does look fantastic.

Since the Fairy Gala is happening right now, I altered the prompt slightly to the reader helping Jamil do his hair for the big event. I hope that is alright.

I had to consult his Fairy Gala SR sooo many times to make sure the hairstyle I was describing in this piece was accurate to the game. It’s more intricate than it looks at first glance!

Enjoy~

***Warning: mild spoilers ahead for the Fairy Gala event.***

Imagine this...

“I can’t believe Kalim dragged me into this,” Jamil sighed at his reflection in the vanity. “And right after he had promised me he would try and keep a better reign on his impulses...”

“It’s not all that bad,” you reassure him as you run a comb through his long, dark locks. “I mean, you get to dress up all fancy and go to a Fairy Gala-and I get to play with your hair. It’s a win-win situation to me.”

“You make things sound so simple,” Jamil’s sharp eyes flickered to yours in the mirror, “but we are not attending for our own amusement. We have a mission to complete.”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m going to make you look extra pretty--so you can be a great diversion,” you teased, setting aside the comb. Jamil’s hair was already so well maintained, you realized, that brushing it excessively would do more harm than good.

“I could get ready just fine by myself, you know,” Jamil pointed out, but he did not resist when you laced your fingers in his hair.

He had already managed to do his own makeup earlier, lining his eyes in black. His eyeshadow choice for the event was nude and simple--just a slightly darkened shade of his natural skin color, dusted with a healthy coating of shimmer. You could see why this man did Kalim’s makeup on a regular basis--but you had refused to remain in awe for too long, lest the opportunity to help Jamil prepare for the gala slip away.

“What would be the fun in that?” You took ahold of a small segment of hair, dividing it into three smaller ones. “Geez, what do you use to make your hair this shiny and soft?”

“I use shampoo and conditioner,” he replied bluntly. “Don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, obviously. I mean what kind, genius.”

“The same kind as any normal person, really.”

“I don’t buy that for one second.”

“Then buy it for two seconds,” Jamil smirked that infuriating smirk of his--

You pouted, but tried to focus on plaiting his hair, to ground yourself in the motion of locking strands together into neat braids. It really isn’t fair, you thought. How can one man be this pretty?

His hair even smelled nice. His natural scent was that of cloves and spices and the sun-kissed earth, but whatever products he used on his head gave off calming herbal notes. It wasn’t noticeable at a distance, but you were getting a good whiff of it, being this close to him.

“You must use really expensive salon-grade stuff,” you concluded with a huff, pushing thoughts of nice smells and pretty men out of your head.

One braid was done, so you cinched the ends and moved on to a second braid.

“Believe what you will.”

“I will,” you grumble, making quick work of the second braid. You went to the third and final braid, starting on the leftmost side at the base of his head--to make this particular braid easier to wrap around Jamil’s hairline.

When that, too, is done, you pinned the third braid in place. Then you swept up all of Jamil’s hair into a low ponytail with a pure white hair tie, a large feather dripping from it.

“Are you quite finished?”

You stepped back to admire the end result in the vanity mirror. “Hmmm. It’s missing a little something.”

Your eyes traced the pure white, floaty-looking form of Jamil’s outfit, taking in the intricate pattern on his sash and the large fabric flowers that wreathed his torso. It was such a stark contrast to his warm, chestnut skin.

Inspiration struck.

“Oh! Maybe...something pinned in your hair. That would make the color distribution of your clothes seem more even.”

“You sound like Vil and Crewel-sensei,” Jamil sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead in exasperation.

“And you sound like Leona,” you countered, refusing to let his sharp tongue get the best of you. (No doubt that the lion prince in question was wrestling with his handlers, resisting to be fitted into his gala couture and snapping at the idea of dolling him up.) “Stay put; I’m going to see what I can find.”

You retreated into the jewelry box set on the vanity--provided by Professor Crewel and Vil--and sifted through its contents. It was not long before a piece caught your eye: a pin with a preserved cross section of a lotus root set in gold, laid in a scattering of golden leaves. Tiny white buds hung off of the pin like dainty crystal chandeliers.

Your eyes did not deceive you.

It matched perfectly with Jamil’s look.

“You’re ready for the Fairy Gala,” you declared proudly, planting the chosen pin into his hair.

Jamil glanced up from over his shoulder. You expected a snarky remark or a sigh, but they never came. He offered only the smallest of smiles, as fleeting and fragile as a kiss in the dark.

“As ready as I will ever be.”

[captain-cerrillo]

(its all a set up for smut don't let me deceive you lol)

It was weird to be at the point in his career where he was beginning to spend more time behind a screen than on the ground. Though, it had always been the ultimate goal. The Paladin and the Captain were almost like two different people inside of him. He thought of blue eyes and wondered how many other selves he had tucked away inside.

Eva appeared in his office not nearly as much as he wanted her to but, infinitely more than he had expected. It was a jolt to the heart every time. He wanted to see her forever. He smiled at her expressions as she took in the large glowing datamap projected from the holotable between them.

“Not a scientist.” Isaac huffed a breathy chuckle, gesturing lightly between them. “Just a bit of a nerd.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

He made a few shorthand gestures to navigate the hundreds of datapoints mapped in a three-dimensional landscape of information. With a thematic swooshing motion, it jumped to a close-up view of a section of ranges in blue. A cluster of particular points made what looked like a mountaintop in the pixelated scenery. Isaac gestured lightly. “Here’s you.”

Eva’s eyes narrowed and she bent to study the chart more closely. Telekinesis, kinetic fields, and spatial distortion - the Alliance’s golden trifecta of biotic classification. “Are we being studied?”

The thought surprised him and he shifted his weight, suddenly unsure. “Honestly? Probably.” He watched the weight of it settle over her, although he got the distinct impression that she was neither surprised or particularly concerned. “Officially, I don’t have any reason to say yes. Unofficially, I know the people that I work with.” He gestured to the map of data in front of him.

"You know.” He glanced to her, hesitating as he considered. “Sometimes the soldiers call biotics wizards and, while maybe insensitive, I'm not sure it's wrong." He gestured again to move the datamap to a wider section.

"This is the little one." In a sea of blue, a line of teal green spikes stood out. Eva looked away from the landscape only to take in the way he put his hands on his hips, brown eyes heavy and far away in thought. "These are just the base readings that the shuttle picked up on our last run.”

Eva watched his face as he studied the mountain of information, wondering what he was looking for. “Isaac.”

His eyes lifted to hers and he didn’t want to talk about the data anymore.

“Here.” He activated his omnitool and Eva watched it glow softly, casting shades of orange across his face as he tapped a quick input and then extended an open hand to her across the table.

Eva returned the motion to let her ‘tool capture whatever he’d transferred, then studied the small display. A line of characters from different languages - common, binary, and foreign all mixed together – danced across the screen.

“What is this?”

“An access code.”

“An access code to?”

“My quarters,” he replied quickly, coolly and confidently, just before he realized, once again and way behind schedule, that normal people would automatically assume that was a sexual proposition. He panicked.

“But not for- To talk!" He blurted, almost sputtering the words before pausing to breathe, allowing himself a heartbeat to collect his thoughts. “I just meant to talk. I just want to talk to you...” He gestured to the sterile, accessible office around them. “…comfortably.”

Eva’s eyes sparkled and Isaac’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. “Only if you want to. Eva, I-”

Eva's mouth had just fallen open to respond when the door behind her slid open. Luca, Davis, and then Harris almost fell through.

"Captain!"

Luca always started with an exclamation so Isaac waited for the spiel, genuinely curious about what could have sent the entertaining trio running to his office. His posture quickly stiffened, brows knitting tightly together when he realized, realistically, what sorts of shenanigans could have sent them running to his office.

"Is this a one or two door problem?" Isaac asked, referencing an old conversation.

(Isaac had pulled Luca aside early on to share a situational assessment technique his mentor had taught him years before – a solid, reliable, and easy way to distinguish true emergencies from the multitudes of mundane would-be stressors that were bound to come up on a spaceship in the middle of a war.)

"Um." Luca shook his hair out of his face as he considered. "Two."

"Okay. Good.” The captain felt genuine relief and his curiosity bubbled. He’d apparently lost every bit of necessary emotional distance, he mused as he watched the trio bumble over themselves and wondered what he was about to agree to.

"What were you- were you busy?" Harris asked – interrupting but, as innocent in intent as she was emotionally intrusive. Her big brown eyes studied Eva, who only stared her down in silence.

Isaac tried not to smile. "Almost always. But how can I help?" His eyes smiled for him.

“Luca tinkered with the projector in the conference room trying to set up a stupid Blasto-fest date night with that Phoe-” Harris’ eyes widened at Isaac as her mouth snapped shut, suddenly remembering all of the times the captain had specifically asked to never hear the word Phoenix in reference to a request.

Luca turned three shades of red and squealed a little, realizing he really needed to get better at learning to hide.

“And he broke it and you need to approve the replacement requisition before the meeting with Captain Sharon from the SSV Belgrade next week,” Ensign Davis chimed in with refreshing practicality, holding her ever-present datapad.

“Hey!” Luca whined. He reminded Isaac of a puppy. “That’s not exactly what-”

“Requisition. On it. Anything else?”

Harris and Luca shared a heavy look that made Isaac furrow his brow. They both looked to Davis who shook her head NO and the pair visibly deflated.

“I don’t even want to know.” He cast a weary glance between them. “Anything else?”

-

Isaac thought of Marie as he pressed a selection of shining buttons on his shower wall to start the steaming hot stream. He’d always been fond of the Sentinel in an abstract, if not brotherly way, but it was newly heartwarming to see her come into her own as a Commander on the Berlin.

He peeled his crisp blue shirt from his shoulders and tossed it to the corner of the room’s wide bed before working on his belt buckle as he toed off his shoes next to a small closet. While it would have been ridiculous to say that the Captain’s Quarters almost made the whole job worth it, it wasn’t too untrue, he thought with a small smile when he finally slipped under the hot water.

Isaac’s career gave him enough variety that he preferred to keep his personal routines the same. He used the same soap he’d grown up with – handmade with rosemary, black pepper and goat’s milk from a local farmer on Terra Nova – because it smelled like home for as long as the fresh shower scent lasted. It was one of the few things he’d made a point to ask of the Requisitions Officer before disembarking.

The scent carried on the shower’s thick steam air out of the little metal bathroom and into the open space of the bedroom. Eva noticed that first as she stepped across the threshold into a place she probably should not have been. Isaac rounded the little bathroom’s corner and they both froze.

“Is this a bad time? I can go-“

“Maybe… don’t?” Isaac blurted, grateful for the fact that his loose grey shorts were already on as he finished pulling a plain black t shirt over his damp skin. He slicked his wet hair back with a self-conscious smile. He couldn’t tell her what to do but he really hoped she’d want to stay.

-

He’d noticed her absentmindedly trying to stretch her sore legs and her eyes twinkled when he sat his datapad down to clap his hands against his lap in invitation. Although it had seemed perfectly natural and not at all blatantly inappropriate in the moment, the feel of her skin and the slight shifts of her weight against his lap betrayed him.

“It’s not too different from Earth,” Isaac said seriously, brows knit together as his hands worked. “There’s a desert around the equator but the poles are pretty lush. There’s a waterfall with a pink sand beach called Moonmoor – which is kind of funny because Terra Nova doesn’t actually have any natural satellites.”

He paused, glancing at Eva when she hissed as he worked at a particularly stubborn knot in her lower calf. She sensed his concern through her closed eyes and waved him off with a smile while she breathed through the waves.

Even though he wasn’t sure why, she seemed to enjoy his ramblings. He rambled mostly to keep his mind distracted as she stretched next to him on the lounge, shifting her slim legs across his lap to give him better reach.

Isaac couldn’t believe how soft and smooth she was under his battle worn hands. It was hard to believe she was the same Fury that inspired so much curiosity, awe, and even fear among the scattered crew. He fretted, internally, about all the ways his lack of biotic ability made parts of her feel inaccessible. It didn’t matter.

“What’s your home like?” Her voice was soft and her eyes traced the lines of his face as he considered how to answer.

“Wheat fields and cows. The closet neighbor a klick and a half away. People leave their doors unlocked at night.” He smiled at the memories, more aware of the homesickness deep in his bones than he’d ever noticed before. “The colony is huge overall but, my home is just a little village in the southern valley.”

“That sounds nice.” Eva’s eyes drifted shut again as Isaac’s hands worked over her lower legs, coaxing the tension from her tired muscles.

“I miss it,” he said quietly, serious and half-lost to old memory. “And peanut butter jelly sandwiches,” he admitted with a genuine despair. “What do you miss?”

Eva smiled with her eyes closed, surfing her own memories in her mind. “Elyssian sunsets. Eletania’s mountains. Nodacrux’s lightning storms. The way eezo sings on Thessia. Peace and quiet. Organic broccoli.” Her laughter almost twinkled and he couldn’t help but join her. “My life is kind of a tornado.” She gestured lightly to the iconic red stripe that flowed down the shoulder of her oversized hoodie. “Too much of a disaster to miss much.”

“You're not a disaster.” Isaac’s voice was warm and sure but, he didn’t meet her eyes because he was afraid she would see. “You're a miracle.” He could feel the heat from his flushed face again and let his eyes trace the lines of the interlocking metal plates that made up the quarter’s floor. Her body stilled under his hands and he swallowed but, continued.

“Eva, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” He said it so matter-of-factly, almost as if it were just another immutable statistic, burned into his brain. “And I’ve seen a lot of things.”

The tension of all the unspoken crested between them when she laid her small hand over his and whispered his name.

He marveled at the way his hands found her body as she closed the space between them, crawling into his lap and settling over him with an unmistakable hunger in her perfect eyes. He was rigid before her lips crashed into his but, he was throbbing by the time she rolled her hips. She ground herself into his lap as they tasted each other with warm, open mouthed kisses and gentle slips of tongue.

Every movement one of them made escalated the desire of the other. His fingertips found the skin of her upper thighs and he tried not to groan at the feel of her lithe muscle under his palms as she moved against him, working for delicious friction. Her hands went under his loose shirt and the tickle of her nails across his ribs almost made him giggle. She swallowed it.

“Eva,” he pleaded against her lips, his hands cupping her breasts under the oversized hoodie as she squirmed on his lap, moving her hips to increase the friction. “Eva, please.”

She stilled only enough to look at him with eyes full of questions and he could only beam a shy smile. He wrapped his arms around her folded body, already scooping her against his chest. “Can I take you to bed?”

-

His mouth caught a nipple, rolling the sensitive bud against his tongue before his lips slid down her body, savoring her supple curves. One hand worked between her thighs as he kissed the planes of her soft belly. He hummed against her skin as she reacted to his touch, arching to feel more of his body against her.

His fingers alternated between dipping into her wetness, rubbing his thick fingers against her slick walls and swirling tiny circles on her sensitive clit. He took his cues from the way she breathed, gasped, moaned, and strained under his attentions.

He used his free arm to support his weight as he shifted up to kiss her again. He moaned against her mouth when she tangled her fingers into his thick, damp hair and tried to pull his body closer with the sweetest whine falling from her open lips.

“Hey.” He whispered, pecking her smooth cheeks to try to bring the temperature down. His body surged at the idea of discovering all of her other sounds.

“Hi,” she whispered back, eyes twinkling in the dark. She squeezed her thighs around his hand, still steadily stroking as he nuzzled against her neck, trailing kisses to her shoulder.

“I just want you to know its not that I don’t want to know what you feel like. On the inside.” His eyes shuttered, a micromovement betraying his need. Eva moved her hip against his tented shorts knowingly and he fought the urge to hump against her - if only for the fact that he was certain he’d cum. He blinked back to reality and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “But there’s a whole lot of other things I want to know about you first.”

He kissed her deeply, slipping his fingers from her aching body only to spread her thighs for his descent. More than anything he just wanted to fall asleep in her puddle.

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon, Chapter 3: Lost Patience

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Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Reunited, the brothers try to get things back to normal. Sans thinks going back to where it all started holds the answer... but it’s never so simple.

Nearly a month had passed since Sans had retrieved his brother from his self-imposed exile. Despite wracking their brains and recalling trials no creature should have endured, neither had gotten any closer to remembering or rediscovering anything useful, and the stress was taking its toll. Papyrus collapsed from lack of sleep one day, and only reluctantly explained he was avoiding nightmares after Sans uncharacteristically snapped at him. They’d had their disagreements over the years, but this was the worst in a series of fresh spats that had erupted in the brothers' household as frustrations mounted. Sans hated it, maybe even more than Papyrus did.

He was supposed to be the chill guy who stayed calm no matter what... But he'd found himself in increasingly bad moods as time went on. It was getting hard to be as friendly as usual when he went out, and though no one had said anything they were starting to notice. Passers-by would give him a bit more space if they crossed his path, and the other regulars at Grillby's were hesitant to joke with him as much as usual.

And then one night, he was awoken by his brother and found he’d punched a series of holes in the wall with a bone attack in his sleep. So he’d started avoiding sleep too. His mind buzzed with too many thoughts anyway as it tried to find a solution. He didn't care too much what happened to him--not while Papyrus was stuck like this. All that mattered was making sure he could be happy again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, brother, but you need to rest,” Papyrus begged him one afternoon as he stubbornly read a book on magical theory. “You look terrible, and I think it’d be for the best in this instance.”

“what’d be best is if we could get this figured out. i’m not gonna let you be forced to live as what he wanted you to be,” Sans retorted, eyes fixed on the page in front of him, and Papyrus made a worried hum.

“Well, yes, that would be ideal, but, I think at the moment it’s best you, er, returned to your lazy ways and got a nap.”

Sans stiffened and didn’t answer for a while. “… bro. we escaped that place and got him back for everything he did to us. knowing you’re stuck as something you never wanted to be, something you shouldn’t have to be… i can’t rest until you’re free to be who you want again. y’know?”

“Oh Sans…” Papyrus sighed, “I really appreciate how much effort you’ve put into this. It’s… more than I expected, if I’m honest, and it means a lot to me. But I don’t want you making yourself sick, or, hurting yourself somehow, or—or anything of that nature, so please, go take a nap. The book will still be there when you wake up.”

“yeah, and i’m reading it now. aren't you always saying sleep's a waste of my time?”

“Sans... I, um, think I may have been slightly. Wrong. About that. Because you without sleep is not a very good version of you. I hate to do this, but... please go sleep. If not for yourself, then… for me?” Papyrus pleaded, tilting his head sadly.

“... ok,” Sans finally conceded. He flipped the book shut, slid from the table and trudged up to his room—but not to sleep. That had been a lie. He waited, listened to Papyrus nervously approach and hover around his door for a few minutes before slowly returning downstairs, then took a shortcut into the abandoned, sealed-off section of the labs in Hotland.

He was glad he was a skeleton as he inhaled stale air a monster with real lungs would have suffocated in and stalked through the pitch-dark halls, his way illuminated by his eyes alone. Turning corners and passing ragged, deteriorating equipment, he indulged the flashbacks that followed him through the facility. It was worth pursuing whatever memories surfaced, even when they were painful, on the off chance it'd unlock what he needed. He’d done this before, another time when Papyrus thought he’d been napping, and put together more of what had happened to them here. Days of tests, procedures he'd never understand, harsh words that left him aching even now, years later, after he'd failed to meet some expectation. It all would be worth it if only he could remember the right thing.

He mostly seemed to remember the wrong things. He shut his eyes against the apparatus that had once drilled into his magic and stretched it so thin he thought he’d shatter right then and there; his fingertips itched at the memory of claws and he rubbed them in his palms, grounding himself on his blunt digits. He’d once been so comfortable in that other form, once believed that man and his claims he was no more than an animal, and it had taken so much fighting—mainly on Papyrus’ part—to help him reclaim everything he could be. And after everything that had happened, somehow a dead world and its ghosts were threatening to unravel all they'd done to bury it.

Sans flicked his wrist, and the apparatus shattered under artificial gravity. He wondered why he hadn’t done that before—maybe some lingering fear of retribution. He left the splintered metal and plastic behind, idly considering what else of this hateful place he could smash. Turning the corner, he came to a vaulted room lined with large cisterns that had been the holding tanks for living weapons as they grew. Only two had ever released successful constructs—before that, who knew what had met its end before it lived.

“YOU’LL NOTE THE SUBJECT APPEARS TO BE WELL-BUILT, WITH A STURDY AND ELABORATE BONE STRUCTURE,” the man said, gesturing at him, “BUT UNFORTUNATELY, LOOKS ARE DECEIVING. AS YOU CAN SEE, ALL BASE STATS ARE SEVERELY STUNTED. SPECIAL CARE MUST BE TAKEN IN ALL CASES OF HANDLING AND TESTING TO MITIGATE RISK OF FRACTURE AND METAPHYSICAL FAILURE. RESEARCH WITH THIS SUBJECT WILL BE OVERSEEN BY MYSELF AT ALL TIMES. VIOLATORS... CAN CONSIDER THEIR CAREER TERMINATED. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

Sans grimaced at the unbidden memory, the thought of being seen as an object leaving a slimy feeling in its wake. Even when he’d worn that form, he’d been more than that, he’d been a person in his own right. That man had thought because he’d made them it gave him the right to control them, to coax and prod them in equal turns until they became what he wanted them to be. He’d nearly won, but Papyrus—oh Papyrus, the best thing this place had ever produced, undeserving of all it had done to him—had seen through his manipulation and come through. And now he needed someone to come through for him.

Sans left the tank room behind, resisting an urge to tear it all down with blue magic. He needed to poke a little further, push a little deeper. He'd make this place give up its secrets, but he could feel his patience wearing thin. He was running out of ideas, too. Maybe if he shifted, he could work out what to do from there? No, that would be—

“NO. IF YOU WANT TO TEST WITH YOUR… BROTHER TOMORROW, YOU WILL CHANGE BACK THIS INSTANT. SHIFT NOW.”

Something in Sans’ soul wrenched free, and he staggered, doubled over, clutching at face and chest. If he’d been well-rested, if he’d been his usual laid-back self, maybe he could have resisted the way he had a month before. But worked up by both past and present, he was too out of sorts to quell the power tearing through him; he only had the presence of mind to shortcut home as his body warped and became what he’d tried so hard to fight.

It was the buildup to the final romantic scene in Metatons's latest soap opera when Papyrus’ viewing was interrupted by a rounded form appearing in front of the TV and landing on the floor with a thud.

“Sans!” he barked, trying to stay focused on the show, “you’ve got to stop using shortcuts in your sleep! One of these days you’re going to—Sans?”

Papyrus stared at his brother’s prone form. He didn’t like how still he was. And he especially didn’t like how he was no longer round and friendly, but round and spiky.

The romance was forgotten as Papyrus leapt from the couch to shake his brother’s shoulders, words catching in his throat. Not Sans too, not again, surely this was a bad dream only it was Sans who wasn’t waking up. He whimpered, and looped an arm under him to drag him to the couch and curl around him. How often had he done this when they’d shared only a bare cell, how many times had he feared that last round of tests had finally done his brother in? How long would their past hold them captive?

Sans awoke with a start the next day, sometime mid-morning. Papyrus watched him rise blearily and stumble over unfamiliar feet onto the carpet; his eyes came to rest on the hands he’d caught himself with, and he slumped to the floor completely. After a silence that stretched on for minutes, he spoke.

“welp. sorry bro. i messed up. guess that’s the last time i try hard on anything ever...”

“Oh Sans, don’t say that!” Papyrus cried, getting up himself to roll his brother over. “Come on, now it’s even more important we work to solve this most elusive of riddles! As outlandish as it may seem, maybe you’ll have even more success than me! Come on, it's already late in the day--let’s have breakfast and then we’ll get to work.”

Sans only groaned. “i want grillby’s… but i can’t go to grillby’s like this… i’ll never have grillby’s again…”

“Sans! Cease your dramatics!” Papyrus demanded. “We have toast, which is perfectly good breakfast fare and certainly better than some grease-drenched horror! I’ll even make it for you since you probably have to learn how to use deadly claws again.”

Sans moaned from his place on the floor, and Papyrus left him to get started. As he waited for the toaster to warm up, he grabbed his phone and delicately entered Undyne’s number. He was getting much better at using his own deadly claws for fine motor skills again--it was one thing he was proud of in all this mess. After a few rings, Undyne picked up.

“Hey Papyrus! How’s it going?” she asked cheerfully, and he hesitated on what to say.

“Greetings, Undyne! Everything is going well! But I called to let you know that Sans won’t be able to work today. He’s, sick,” he replied, wondering if it was really a lie as his brother continued to rest limply on the floor in the next room.

“I take it you guys still haven’t made any progress, huh?” Undyne asked sadly, and he sighed.

“None. We’ve almost made backwards progress, really.”

“Ah geez, well, I know you won’t but don’t give up! And kick your brother’s butt into gear too, I’ve seen what happens when you let him slack off and it’s not pretty. Hey, I KNOW! I’ll stop by later tonight, how about that?”

Papyrus’ mind raced; it’d be no good if Undyne found out Sans had changed too. “Oh! Well! That would be okay! But my brother will probably be asleep and totally unavailable for interaction.”

“Nope! He’s not getting out of socializing THAT easily!” Undyne quipped brightly. “I’ll see you punks tonight!”

She hung up, and Papyrus was left staring blankly at his phone. Once Undyne had decided on something it was very hard to talk her out of it. He had to think fast or they’d get the chewing out of their lives and more questions than either of them wanted to answer. It was better the world didn’t know about their abilities and the man who thought he’d play god.

The toaster popped, and in an instant it was pierced by a bone. Sparks showered from the ruined appliance, and Papyrus slowly sat, staring at what he'd done. All this tension was getting to him, and he sighed. He stood, shaking his head. He could only feel frustrated with himself as he salvaged what he could of breakfast from the wreckage. He was better than this! He had the best control out of anyone Undyne knew, and he knew she was telling the truth—not a half-truth or white lie some people felt they needed to tell him to soften a world he’d already seen the sharp edges of. Undyne was guilty of that, and even Sans was, but he forgave them. They were trying to keep him safe and happy, and he appreciated that much, but he wasn't a child and it had worn on him for years.

At least Sans was doing it less now, after they'd spent the last month admitting what had happened to them back in the lab. Papyrus was certain, though, there were still things he was hiding from him. The fact he’d either transformed in his sleep, or not been sleeping and doing something he shouldn’t while pretending to sleep was proof enough of that. Huffing another short sigh, Papyrus glanced out to the living room, saw his brother was still on the floor, and put the two ragged slices of toast on a pair of plates and brought them out wearing his best smile.

“Well, we’ll need a new toaster but I’ve managed to prepare a simple one-course meal to tide us over until lunch. Up and at ‘em, brother!”

Another groan, but at least Sans slowly propped himself up. “hey, it’s not burnt. see bro, you’re improving all the time.”

“Indeed! I’ll be renowned cook and Royal Guardsman very soon!”

The rest of their meal was quiet—mostly on account of it being so short—and after brushing crumbs from his mandible Papyrus stretched and stood at his full height. “Alright, brother! We have until evening to finally make a breakthrough and pretend none of this ever happened! So! Get those mental bones shakin’!”

“… just don’t see what we could do differently. we’ve thought of everything,” Sans mumbled, sinking back to the floor. “i oughta just accept my fate.”

“No, I won’t let you,” Papyrus refuted, picking him up by his ragged hoodie with one hand. “You were right, earlier. It’s not fair for us to still be at the mercy of our past in this way. I’m even thinking, that, maybe it was bad we stopped being all of what we are… because we should be proud! No other monster can do what we do, and we are monsters! Not weapons like he wanted us to be—never like he wanted us to be. We should take back this part of us, because it never wasn’t a part of us.

“We’re going to change back, but, maybe it’s not a thing that can be forced. Not anymore. We’ve… accepted there’s a lot we can’t change, haven’t we? So, perhaps, this is. One more thing. We can accept…? We'll keep working! But! Not be so hard on ourselves if we don't get it right away.”

Sans blinked slowly at him. “bro… you’re so cool. if anyone can own this, it’s you. i just… yeah, i like bein’ that other shape, a lot more than i like being this one, but… i dunno. i think deep down i know… this was what i was always supposed to be. so... i'm accepting that.”

Papyrus gave him a very long, sad look. Slowly, he turned, and walked to lay Sans on the couch before joining him, and Sans eyed him warily the whole time. Judging by the look on his face, Sans regretted saying what he had.

“Sans,” Papyrus began, “I know he always wanted you to only be this way, and just be an animal. He never let you change, don’t think I didn’t notice! I think, in your rounder, friendlier form, it reminded him… that you were so weak? And you know how he hated, er, failure… His! His failure. He made us, so anything we’re bad at is his fault! Nyeh!”

Sans huffed a short laugh.

“In any case! You are just as entitled to owning all of who you are as I am! You are just as smart, and kind, and friendly and everything else in this form as you are in the other, even if it is easier to be all of that in the one you're not in now. And no matter what, just know that I love you, and nothing could ever change that!”

“… of course bro. right back at ya.”

But Papyrus could tell Sans didn’t really believe him. Or, it wasn’t that he didn’t believe him—it was more that he didn’t believe in himself, and that had been the hardest thing to work through as they’d put their lives together. Sans had never really done anything wrong, but he’d often done things in ways the man hadn’t liked—they both had, really, but somehow Sans always got the worst of it. He was too clever, too eager to take shortcuts and do things his own way. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now. All the more reason to work extra hard on mastering the quirks of their beastly forms all over again.

"Well, you think about it for a while, and I'll keep trying my way!" Papyrus conceded, leaving his brother to sit in the middle of the living room. They had to keep trying...!

He went through every method he’d thought of again, calling on his reserves of magic, remembering how it felt to walk on two legs and not have claws or a tail, to no avail. He even meditated for a while, and that was hard to do when he always had so much to think about. Sans had fallen asleep on the couch—which wasn’t so surprising as it was annoying. He'd told him to think of a solution--he’d never change back if he just slept all the time! Papyrus shook his head with a huff, and reached out to jostle him awake.

Fangs snapped inches from Papyrus’ forearm, and he leapt back with a yelp. Sans’ eyes focused, and widened as he realized what he’d done. Wordlessly, he began trembling, and buried his face in the couch cushions; Papyrus bounded back to his side and gently patted his shoulder.

“Brother, it’s okay, I startled you. I know you don’t want to hurt me,” he comforted, trying to nuzzle the face still wedged as deeply into the old cushions as it would go.

“i—i thought you were him, i wanted to—i wanted to snap your arm,” Sans admitted in a quiet, panicked rush. “i’m sorry papyrus, i’m sorry. you were right, i shoulda just napped, i shoulda stayed here and just been my lazy old self, instead i’m this and i’ll never not be this again. i just… i’m just gonna give up now, get it over with…”

“No Sans, you can’t! Yes, you should have stayed here, but we’ll get you turned back! We’ll both turn back, and be who we want to be again, just like I told you! I know we can! I believe in us!” Papyrus assured him, trying not to sound desperate. “Truly, it’s okay brother. Come out of there, you’ll never get who knows what out of your sutures.”

But Sans only groaned softly. With a worried huff, Papyrus grasped his brother’s skull and pulled it free. Sans offered no resistance as he was curled up and encircled by a blanket, and then his brother’s bony form; Papyrus knew he should have been continuing his work, but if he was honest he couldn't think about it at all. Sans was too close to letting himself go.

“Alright Sans, we’re going to rest,” he spoke as he folded his forelimbs under his chest. “But it can’t be for long! Undyne’s coming over and we have to be ready.”

There was no reply. Papyrus laid his head down next to his brother’s, tried not to think about how miserable he looked, and found himself drifting off after a while. Maybe some rest really was in order. He curled a bit tighter around his brother, and let his eyes close.

They snapped open when heavy knocking sounded on the door. Oh no.

“Hey Papyrus, open up! It’s hang-out time!” Undyne called, sounding cheerful. Papyrus leapt from the couch, which startled Sans awake. He blinked sleepily, then snapped into alertness when he realized what was going on. And in a blink, he was gone.

Papyrus groaned. He hoped Sans hadn’t gone too far, but at least it solved the problem of Undyne trying to interact with him—for once he was grateful for Sans’ avoidant tendencies. Mustering his usual high spirits, he answered the door.

“Hello Undyne! Welcome to the humble abode of the humbler Papyrus! The greatest skeleton you will ever meet!”

Undyne laughed. “Hey Papyrus, it’s good to see you. Still stuck as a horse lizard thing, I see.”

“Yes,” Papyrus huffed, “the tragedy of our time. I’m close to a breakthrough though, I can feel it!”

“I know you can do it!” the captain beamed with all her fangs. “Where’s Sans? I don’t care if he’s sick, he’s not getting out of at least a little noogie from me! Oh, but I also brought soup, I thought it might help him feel better.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of you!” Papyrus uttered, taking the small container Undyne handed over. “As it happens, he’s just stepped out for some fresh air.”

“You told him I was coming, right?” Undyne said with a frown, and he nodded.

“Of course I did! But you know Sans does as he pleases.”

“Yeah,” Undyne griped. “Well, hopefully he’s back soon. We're gonna have fun, but I wanted talk to both of you for a moment.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been hearing some things from the other guards. I… guess we could talk about it now, but I don’t want you to worry and it mostly concerns him.”

“Oh no, go on! I worry anyway, it’s no big deal!” Papyrus assured her cheerfully, and she gave a bittersweet smile.

“Okay, okay… Well, I guess Sans has been kinda… irritable, lately. Dogaressa told me the other day. She said he hasn’t been joking around, or going to Grillby’s as much—which, normally I’d say is a good thing, but knowing your brother I know that means something’s up. I guess he snapped at Jerry, which, if it was anyone else it'd be totally understandable, but Sans never snaps at anyone.”

“He’s… stressed,” Papyrus admitted. “He doesn’t like that I’m stuck like this.”

“Hmm... I guess I can see that, but he’s normally so… unflappable,” Undyne said. “If this is just something you can do, why’s he so worked up that you’re stuck? Unless he’s actually an even crappier brother than I thought and thinks he can decide what you should be like.”

“No! It’s nothing like that!” Papyrus refuted, internally horrified at the thought of Sans being so controlling. It’d be too much like him. “He hates that I’m stuck, not that other preposterous thing you said.”

“Psh, okay, I get it,” Undyne laughed. “Still. It’s putting him in a pretty bad mood and it’s got people worried… and maybe it’s why he got sick, y’know? He threw himself out of whack with all this…”

“Yeah, it’s really unhealthy…” Papyrus agreed, looking away. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back. A grumpy Sans is hardly a Sans at all! Now! What did you want to do on our hangout?”

They ended up watching one of Mettaton’s new cooking shows where he competed against and judged himself with various dishes made under both time and ingredient limits. The clips were cut so it really looked like there were three of him in the kitchen at a time, and he played up the tension when he judged himself harshly on a failed dish. Of course, even the failures were absolutely perfect—he just liked the drama of elimination. It was good, bad TV, and for a little while Papyrus could forget his predicament. After a few hours and an attempt at making their own versions of some of the dishes they’d seen, it was time for Undyne to head home, and Papyrus was left with a quiet house once more.

“Alright Sans, it’s safe to come out now!” he called, on the chance Sans had merely taken a shortcut up to his room. There was no reply. Papyrus leapt up the stairs to poke his head into his brother’s room and found nothing out of the ordinary—but it was empty. Sans wasn’t home.

Papyrus returned to the living room and sat on the floor, tail flicking idly as he wondered what to do while he waited. Sans was fine--he’d be back eventually. He wouldn’t leave like he’d so foolishly run away--Sans liked the comforts of home too much. Even if he relapsed and sank into the cloying lull of instinct and everything he’d been trained to be...

He'd still know where home was and couldn't be gone for long.

... Right?

[feigeroman]

Station to Station (funk to funky...)

So, spurred on both by one of my previous headcanon posts getting liked and reblogged by @mean-scarlet-deceiver​ (who is totally awesome - go check them out), and by The Unlucky Tug’s magnum opus of a video essay about his take on the Island of Sodor (check it out below, and then check him out - both are totally awesome), I decided it’d be a fun idea to share some of my own headcanons about Sodor. Most of these are things I remembered while watching the video, which you can see here...

...And I’ll be presenting them in the order I remembered them. The video isn’t strictly necessary to understand this post - I just wanted to share it. It’s also worth having a copy of the Sam Wilkinson map (mentioned in the video) to hand, as it’s what I used as the basis for my take on Sodor. Yes, I know it’s a bit of a clusterfuck, but so is my version of the timeline, so...

***

1) Knapford is Tidmouth, and Elsbridge is Knapford

What do I mean by this? Well, what the RWS calls Tidmouth, the TVS calls Knapford. And what the RWS calls Knapford, the TVS calls Elsbridge.

Confused? I certainly was the first time I tried typing that! I’ll just explain the headcanon:

Basically, I go with what the RWS says. In other words, what the TVS calls Knapford, I call Tidmouth (incidentally, I prefer this version with the big yard alongside)...

...And what the TVS calls Elsbridge, I call Knapford. I know this shot doesn’t really show the station, but I decided the yard in the background is part of Knapford as well.

2) Which harbour is which?

This is somewhat similar to HC1, in that I’m changing up some of the names of established locations. There are many docks and harbours on Sodor, but the show mainly focuses on Brendam (and either Knapford or Tidmouth in earlier seasons). Those locations change drastically from season to season, and I wanted to account for most of the various appearances. So in no particular order:

For Tidmouth Harbour, I use the current Brendam Docks (though my headcanon is something nearer to the real-life Southampton Docks).

For Knapford Harbour, I use a mix of S2 Knapford Harbour and S3B Brendam Docks Just imagine that the former evolved into the latter over time.

For Brendam Docks, I use the S2 Brendam Docks.

I’ve loosely based Arlesburgh and Kirk Ronan on the real-life Bristol and Weymouth harbours, respectively.

3) Two or three-track mind

Okay, this was something I only thought up after seeing Tug’s video. He points out that the number of tracks tends to vary between sets, and he decides on the following:

Three tracks means it’s somewhere on the main line.

Two tracks means it’s a branch line.

One track means it’s either the far end of a branch line, or a freight-only line.

However, he also makes the point that some parts of the main line are inexplicably double-tracked, such as Cronk Viaduct (which he moves to Wellsworth, but that’s neither here nor there):

In cases like this, my headcanon is that the main line was originally completed as a double-tracked railway, with most of it being upgraded to triple-track later on. Obviously it may not have been possible or feasible to upgrade certain sections, hence them being left as double-track.

4) Lower Tidmouth

Now here’s one that I really like. This unnamed station from The Three Railway Engines was christened Lower Tidmouth by the TVS modelmakers. It’s located between Tidmouth and Knapford, and sits on the southern outskirts of the former town. Even though Tidmouth is a pretty large town - especially in my headcanon - its main station seems to cope well enough on its own, so why this extra station?

My headcanon is this: During the War, Tidmouth would most likely have been of great strategic importance, with its harbour and rail links - and therefore a prime target for air raids. Just in case the main station was bombed out of action, Lower Tidmouth was constructed just outside what was then the edge of the city, to serve as a temporary passenger terminus. After the War, the rudimentary station was given a major upgrade, after it was discovered that many people living to the south of Tidmouth found it more convenient than the main station.

5) Lower Tidmouth Tunnel

A much smaller idea now. This short tunnel is located between Tidmouth and Lower Tidmouth, and I just want to say I like to imagine that this looks the same as Henry’s Tunnel does in the TVS - two tracks in one bore, one track in the other. The only difference is that it’s built from red brick, as shown here.

6) Some ideas above Edward’s Station

This is a double-barrelled headcanon concerning Wellsworth. One concerns the station itself, and the other concerns its goods yard.

Firstly, the station itself. There’s been a lot of debate about which way round it should be. Should the footbridge be at the western or eastern end? Personally, I think it should be at the western end. My reasoning is that that would allow the bay platform siding (where Henry is in the above picture) to be at the eastern end, facing towards Gordon’s Hill. I assume that’s where Edward would normally be stabled when he’s waiting to bank trains up the hill. I just think it’s more convenient on that front.

As for the goods yard?

Well, I think this is Wellsworth Yard. That’s it. That’s the headcanon.

7) The Parkway Stations

This next headcanon concerns a rather obscure part of the Sodor railway geography - namely, these two tiny stations on the main line.

These stations serve the tiny villages of Balladrine and Kellaby respectively - though, in true railway fashion, they’re actually located some distance from the communities they serve. My original idea was to go down the usual route and just add the suffix Road to the station names, but then I was struck by a flash of real-life inspiration.

In the 1970s, British Rail opened a number of park-and-ride stations, which basically means you drive to the station, park your car and continue your journey by train. They usually have the suffix Parkway, as the first one was built close to the M32, which is also known as the Bristol Parkway.

Anyway, that’s the gist of this headcanon. The North Western jumped on this Parkway bandwagon around that same time, allowing people from the villages to either drive or catch a bus to the stations, and then catch a train to wherever.

8) The new Kellsthorpe Road

In my own personal timeline (which is a whole other headcanon in itself), Season 8 takes place in 1976, and it’s during this season that we see Kellsthorpe Road being built. Obviously the station had existed since the railway was built, so what’s with this new one?

Well, I like to think this was actually a relocation to somewhere more convenient for both the town and the junction with the Kirk Ronan branch.

9) Crovan’s Gate and other small works

I already touched upon this idea before in my Victor’s Haulage Truck headcanon, but if you haven’t read that, it goes like this:

I’m not a huge fan of the Steamworks and Dieselworks being separate facilities in separate locations. I just think the RWS version of Crovan’s Gate makes more sense, seeing as you would want all your major repair equipment and facilities to be concentrated in one location.

That being said, I wouldn’t say all this sort of work should be concentrated at Crovan’s Gate. It’s implied in the RWS that more minor repairs are carried out at smaller workshops across the rest of the system - I’d assume these are located at all the major engine sheds, and that there’s at least one on each branch line. These would also be useful for when there’s more work than Crovan’s Gate can take on at once.

10) The Sheds

Speaking of sheds, I have a handful spread across my version of Sodor. Basically, I have a couple at each end of the main line, and one on each of the branch lines. And since the highest operating district number in real life was 89 (for Oswestry), I’m gonna say all of the NWR’s engines are allocated to District 90, covering all sheds on the region:

Tidmouth (90A)

Knapford (90B)

Crovan’s Gate (90C)

Vicarstown (90D)

Barrow In Furness (90E)

Arlesburgh (90F)

Ffarquhar (90G)

Brendam (90H)

Peel Godred (90I)

Kirk Ronan (90J)

Great Waterton (90K)

Norramby (90L)

11) Dryaw Goods Station

Alright, this one is more about a specific episode than a location, but I thought it was worth throwing into the mix. This goods station only appeared in Thomas Gets Bumped, and nobody is quite sure where it’s meant to be. Some people say it’s Hackenbeck. Others say it’s Toryreck. Me? I’ve always thought of this as the original Dryaw Station, on what is now the Harbour line on the Ffarquhar branch.

I say this because the surrounding scenery matches what’s shown on the map, and it makes sense for a freight-only station to be located on what is now a freight-only line. But if that’s the case, why does Thomas seemingly pass through daily with his passenger train?

I toyed with the idea of Thomas being there because he’s pulling a workers’ train, but then I came up with something better. In my personal timeline, this episode takes place during the initial construction of Knapford Harbour, and the new passenger line with it. More specifically, during a brief interim period between the closure of the original Dryaw to passengers, and the opening of the new passenger line.

12) The Sports Field Halt

At the end of the Sodor Explained video essay, Tug admits that he couldn’t think of anywhere to put this station from Three Cheers For Thomas.

Sam Wilkinson’s map places this halt just south-west of Elsbridge, and that’s where I’ve decided to place it too. Not just because it’s semi-canon, but because do you know what other location is just south-west of Elsbridge?

Yes, this cricket field. In my headcanon, I’ve merged these two locations together. Makes sense, right? They’re both sports related things, next to an embankment, and just south-west of Elsbridge. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch, and you can always imagine the halt is a request stop serving the sports field.

***

Alright, I think that’s enough headcanons for one post. Firstly, because I underestimated just how much I had to talk about. And secondly, I’ve always said it’s not wise to put all your eggs in one basket. It’s much more sensible to just put out a short thing, let it simmer for a while, and then finish off the rest later.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this post. I certainly enjoyed finally getting all these thoughts out there. Stay cool, stay safe, and I’ll share the rest of my thoughts at some point in the future (even if they are as insane as the ones I’ve already shared so far!)...

[cheri-translates]

[CN] 100 Days - Kiro (Day 51 - 100)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for e-mails which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

What’s the 100 Days Companionship Event?

Day 1 - 3: here

Day 4 - 30: here

Day 31 - 50: here

Day 51

The game we played together has released new DLC. Want to come online tonight and play it?

Day 52

Each time I see delicacies in comics, I always find them especially enticing. Next time, let’s try making them together, okay?

Day 53

If I sleep one hour less and wake up one hour earlier, I would have two more hours to chat with you. The ancient people are right - sleeping and waking up early improves one’s quality of life.

Day 54

I heard that a new braised goose cafe opened recently. I’m using my gaze to hint to Miss Chips to hand over her resting time this evening.

[Note] I’m not sure if there’s a typo but I don’t think “撸鹅” (“lu e”) means anything? I’m guessing it’s supposed to be be 卤鹅 (which shares the same pronunciation), which means braised goose. Do correct me if I’m wrong!

Day 55

Today is an exercise “cheat day” - let’s have a sumptuous meal together? How about that hotpot stall from last time?

Day 56

Today, Apple Box and Cello each took one of my socks into their mouths and ran…. Only after scrambling for a while did I manage to leave the house…

Day 57

There’s a new movie to film, and I don’t know which role I’m getting this time. I hope I wouldn’t have to cut down on fat again…

Day 58

The days of eating salads are about to begin again… Next time, I’ll definitely ask Savin to pick a fatter role!

Day 59

The fruit flavoured milk I loved when I was young… as expected, it’s still just as delicious now!

Day 60

I helped Mango Ice’s owner design a perfect walk procedure. In the end, it didn’t follow the route and frolicked around! Technology doesn’t understand Corgis!

[Trivia] The last sentence probably doesn’t make sense in English, but it’s a play on words in Chinese because technology 科技 (’ke ji”) has the same pronunciation as corgis 柯基 (“ke ji”)!

Day 61

I swear - the reason why I snatched the last ice-cream from you is solely because I was afraid you’d catch a cold. It’s definitely not because I wanted to eat it myself!

Day 62

Guess where I’m sending you this e-mail from? The highest mountaintop of Loveland High!

Day 63

Why is your teddy bear plush wearing the same sweatshirt as I am! Could it be…

Day 64

The most amazing part of autumn is how it combines everyone’s happiness into eating hotpot and lying under quilts.

Day 65

Let’s watch a movie. I heard that the new superhero is modelled based on a stag. I wonder if he’d be awesome!

Day 66

I discovered that the most dangerous place is the safest place. Savin will never find the snacks I’ve hidden in his office, hahaha!

Day 67

Are you thinking of me? I can’t be the only one secretly thinking about you, right?

Day 68 (Halloween)

Title: Exclusive sweets

Ding dong ding dong, Miss Chips, open the door quickly! If you don’t receive the exclusive sweets, Troublemaker Kiro will definitely not leave!

Day 69

When one is hungry, everything looks like food. I even saw a sandwich walking over to say hello…

Day 70

I woke up early to play a game, but it was undergoing server maintenance. I’m so angry!

Day 71

The newly released sake flavoured soda is really strong. I’ve decided to use it to deceive Savin so he’d give me a day of rest to see you.

Day 72

Today, I reached out to touch a stray cat’s head and it didn’t dodge. I’m happy, and feel as though I’m the chosen one!

Day 73

I played baseball after such a long time. It’s a pity you didn’t see how incredibly dashing I looked.

Day 74

Perhaps it’s because of the season, but I’ve been feeling blue recently. The symptom is that I want to see you at every moment.

Day 75

One of my earpieces is broken. I suddenly feel so helpless without surround sound QAQ

Day 76

Miss Chips is truly my medicine. The moment I see you, I feel my entire world becoming sunny and cloudless!

Day 77

Your new hairstyle today is really cute. Looks like you flop around in your sleep too. I actually like that tuft of curled up hair!

Day 78

When will there be a legally recognised Eating Hotpot Day - the kind which lasts seven days a week?

Day 79 (Single’s Day)

Received a gift from a five-year old little fan. He used autumn plants to make a portrait of me, so today’s Kiro has a maple and blueberry scent!

Day 80

Today’s achievement: Anonymously posted a karaoke recording, and the comments reflected that “the singing seems to sound like Kiro!”

Day 81

I played a new game recently, and the main character is a hacker. In the end, he was fighting and killing all the way - we hackers are not like that!

Day 82

Do you still remember that pop-up donut shop from last year? This year, they announced that there will be a new theme. Looking forward to it!

Day 83

The script for the new movie is quite similar to the very first role I took up. Even though it’s a similar role, I’ll play it with a different feeling.

Day 84

Saw an old grandfather clipping an old grandmother’s nails. I also want to clip your nails once. Is that okay? I’ll definitely be very careful!

Day 85

Today, a stray cat was sleeping underneath the van. In order not to disturb its sweet dream, I decided to be fully equipped and ride a bicycle to meet you.

Day 86

Why can’t I remove the bitterness of black coffee even after adding so many sugar cubes, yet just one you can make my life so sweet?

Day 87

Everyone will experience a few meteor showers, a few solar eclipses, and a few red moons in their lifetime. I hope you’ll be by my side during these special moments.

Day 88

The sweatshirt you’re wearing today is really cute. I couldn’t help but place a toffee in your hood. You haven’t realised it, have you?

Day 89

I felt as though I sang incredibly well in the bathroom, so I recorded a section and sent it to you. Listen to it quickly!

Day 90

I really want to watch movies with you, the both of us shutting the curtains and burrowing in a small room together. Let’s make it a reality tonight!

Day 91

I’ve thought of an ultimate way to eat mangoes without dirtying our hands. Want to know what it is?

Day 92

You looked really cute when I caught you secretly listening to my song! Actually, there’s no need to do it secretively. You can express your favouritism to me unabashedly!

Day 93

Suddenly recalled those rocking cars which could sing in front of the supermarket entrance. Did you ride them when you were younger?

Day 94

Every time I cover your eyes, you’d call my name at the first try. Is it really that easy to guess?

Day 95

How does Savin always manage to find my hidden snacks? I suspect that he has installed a surveillance monitor on my body!

Day 96

Let’s go to the KTV. I want to hold a concert with you as my only audience.

Day 97

Out of curiosity last night, I bought a large pack of strange flavoured chips.  I tried one bag today, and now I feel as though I can see little green men from Mars flying in the sky.

Day 98

In the future, let’s frequently flip through these sign-in records. Even though it’s a little shameful, I really want to recollect this period of time often!

Day 99

There’s a kind of liberating feeling when it’s after work and I’m in the car on the way to you!

Day 100

I wish to tell Miss Chips, who’s persevered in signing in over this period of time, that she has worked hard! Looking forward to the next game with you!

[carbrakes-and-stakes]

F-ham-ily meeting | Nora & Alain

Where: The Grocery store When : Today What: Ham.

‘Ham. Ham. Ham. Ham.’ The song was offkey and only heard in Nora’s head as she slunk through the too bright isles of the supermarket. It was almost as bad as being out in the afternoon light the way these fluorescent bulbs reflected off the white linoleum flooring. Unwilling to be a participant in their brightness, Nora had donned her sun glasses. Despite how long it’d been since she’d last traversed these isles, Nora would never forget where she was going. It was her beloved isle. It was arguably the only place she’d ever been in the large store. The meat section. She strode right over, ignoring everyone in the vicinity and went straight for the very last honey ham. 

The supermarket’s basket in hand, Alain had both his crutches under one armpit as he moved through the isles. Bothersome, yes, but the only way he had found to move around this hell place without needing assistance. He did not want to bother one of his friends by asking that they brought him the things on his list, and everyone knew that vegetables and fruits on the delivery services were always the worst, going bad in no time. He put down the basket in the isle, and once again, tried to ignore the people who were shopping around. Of course some were looking, or staring, but he did not have the will to tell them that it was rude. All he hoped that one would not ask him if he needed help. If he did not ask for help, then no, he did not need help. Or at least he liked to pretend so. His hand reached over for the ham. He wanted to cook that for dinner, and unfortunately, someone else seemed to want it too. He paused to look at who it was, and the puzzled look in his eyes could have been worth a thousand words. How long had it been since he had last seen her? He breathed in and the best he could offer was a thin smile. “It has been a while,” he commented, only because he knew that she was far from the most talkative of the pair. 

Somebody’s hand was touching her ham. Nora slowly slid the sunglasses down her nose. Her eyes started on the hand on her meat, grubby. Unworthy of such a wonderful feast. Up the arm, hit the shoulder, eventually making it to the face. Alain. For a moment a blossom of pleasure burst, it was nice to see an old friend. Until she remembered that he wasn’t an old friend, but an enemy of the state after what he’d done to Remmy. Nora shoved the glasses back on. “It has.” Nora agreed. Her hand, the one not on the ham, jutted out to point at the missing leg. “You lost something.” She stated blandly. Her mind was filled with the voices of her fathers. ‘Nora you can’t go around asking people why they are missing legs. It’s rude Nora.’ “Sucks for you.”

Sunglasses inside? Of course. He didn’t make any comment about those, his puzzled expression never quite leaving his face as he watched her go through what seemed like an emotional rollercoaster to him. Adjusting his balance to be more comfortable, he glanced down at the leg, or the lack of one, then back at her. A small shrug replied to her first comment, although the next one made him burst out laughing. Shaking his head, he sighed happily and nodded. “That is one way to put it, yes. It does suck,” he highly doubted that she was making a vampire pun here, although he didn’t put it beneath her. His glance went back to the ham. Of course she had not let go of the thing, and while he was pretty sure that he could probably rip it out of her hand easily, a scene was something he wished to avoid. “You know what, I think I’ll take the smoked ham, it’s probably a lot better than this one anyway,” it was, but he needed this kind for his recipe. 

“Great. I hope you enjoy your smoked ham.” Nora didn’t see herself as an unkind person. She always helped where she could. In fact, since becoming a friend to many she even considered herself a good friend. Someone could message her and ask for her help and she would help them. Not that they did. Hmm, maybe she was a bad friend. If she was a good friend people would ask for help right? The train of thought was really interrupting the intense ham off happening in front of her. The point was she wasn’t going to give up the last honey ham to someone who didn’t deserve it. No one deserved ham more than her. Nora started pulling the delectable treat towards her. “See you around space cowboy. Good luck with…” She paused, she didn’t know what had been going on with him. Obviously it was big. “That…” She finished in her dull monotone. 

Aaaaand he should have expected something like that, coming from Nora. Even if they had not spoken in a while, she was not known for her social skills, and clearly she did not understand that this was when she should have offered him to give up on the ham. Alain deadpanned, staring at her right in the eyes. Her loss, but the sunglasses made it much easier to stare, and so, when she pulled at the ham, he pulled back, raising his eyebrows at her. “I touched it first,” he calmly said. He could have left it to her, but he did not want to, and besides, she would just swallow it in one bite instead of appreciating it properly. A waste of ham. “Good luck finding… food.”

“You said you didn’t want it.” Nora pointed out, pulling it back towards her. She could grab it and run. What was he going to do about it? That wasn’t sportsmanship like, she decided. Alain may have ended up being a bad guy, but he had done a lot for her. They had been good friends… once. Right? No. Trying to kill another good friend instantly made it so they weren't good friends. Nora hardened her heart. “Murderers don’t get ham.” She told him blatantly, using her other hand to start prying his fingers off her ham. 

“I said I was considering not getting it, but I actually need it. I have some people to feed, you see. Madera sauce, ham and mushrooms, and I need this sort of ham, not any other kind,” Alain could not recall if she preferred his cooking to her usual swallowing meat whole method. She seemed to make absolutely no difference between the two, but if he was lucky, perhaps she would agree that his way was more respectful, and that he deserved to take this ham home. After all the things he had gone through lately, Alain would agree with that, and he did not want to walk all the way down to the butcher show downtown. He knew ham would be even better there, but it was just too far, and his crutches were not comfortable. He couldn’t completely hide his sorrow as she called him a murderer, his eyebrows slightly dropped, and he let go of her ham. Having to deal with the consequences of what you did was never easy, and it was even less so when you were starting to reconsider your actions and reflect on a better way to do things. Still, what had been done had been done and he could neither undo it, nor expect people to change their mind about him, even as he changed his mind about a lot of things. Time seemed to help, however, and quitting might have bought him more time that he ever thought he could get. However on someone as stubborn as Nora seemed to be, that probably would not be enough. He remained silent and picked up the basket on the ground. 

 As soon as the word murderer hit the air, he just gave up. Nora wasn’t what anyone would call a ‘facial reading expert.’ She paused, her hand still planted firmly on what would be the most delectable dinner. “What is it you’re feeling?” She asked, reaching out to try and understand the emotions of the person in front of her. Was it defeat because he knew he was a murderer? Did he want her to be quiet because someone might hear them? Was he just in pain because he lost a leg. Nora stamped a foot down, the only sign of her frustration. Her face remained set in its stony emotionless ways. “Fine. Take it.” Nora let go of the ham, turning away from her once friend. “I can walk to a different store.” A final jab. She started to walk away. It was hard, she decided, to be mean to someone who once was so nice to her. It hurt.

His expression remained frozen, although underneath the surface, magma was seething, occasionally splashing out through the craters of those eyes that didn’t close. Although that couldn’t deceive someone like Nora, who took blank to a completely different level. Seeing her made him reflect on their friendship, and all those relationships he’d lost to his own stubbornness. There was nothing ideal about being friends with Nora, aside from one aspect : she was someone that you could undeniably count on. Beneath the outer shell, there was a candor that not many had. Adults never kept that, understanding everything, even when the reality was shitty, seemed more important than being happy to most, to him. Blissful ignorance, they called it. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally replied, biting on the tip of his tongue as if to punish himself for being the way he was, once again. What was so wrong with letting people worry for him? “No, you can have it, I’ll just change the menu,” he shook his head and looked away before she would inevitably leave. Once more, this familiar feeling invaded his soul and body. Was giving up a feeling? Or emptiness? He sighed and glanced over at that stupid ham before turning his back on it. Of course, he’d lost his appetite now. 

It was another lie to trick her into thinking he was done with the ham, Nora decided. He’d already played that trick on her and she was done. She was already walking away. He had won. Nora lifted a hand above her shoulder, airly waving it off. Her silent ‘Bye. This conversation has ended.’ She sulked away into an isle full of fruits and vegetables. It was disgusting, just like the feeling in her gut and heart after that conversation. After a few days of such joy, this 180 was a twist she didn’t like. Walking down the isle she ran into a worker. “Hey.” She paused to stop him. “Take this and go help the man without a leg. He won’t like the help but just tell him its your job.” Her voice was low as she slid the teenager a one hundred dollar bill. The kid looked between her, the bill and shock raced across his expression. “It-it is my job.” He stammered. Nora didn’t answer. She was already heading towards the egress. 

When the kid found Alain, the hunter was staring blankly at canned vegetables, regretting his habit of not taking a list, and forcing himself to think about something else than what had just happened. He did not pay attention to him at first, but as he heard him stammer, “G-g-good morning, s-sir,” Alain had to look, and, recognizing the uniform the employees wore, sigh. “I don’t need help, I’m fine,” he assured the kid, going back to his staring at colourful cans, even as the guy protested that he was just doing his job. “I guess I’ll just make risotto, risotto’s easy,” talking to himself, he watched the kid go away and had a sigh of relief. Although when the kid came back with a box of Arborio rice, a pack of parmesan and dried morels, relief turned to resignation. “You don’t take no for an answer, now do you?” Still, a thin smile, and you might have missed it if you looked away for just one second, warmed up Alain’s face, brief, but still there. It must have encouraged the kid, because he added : “Do you need anything else?” And Alain had to admit that help wasn’t so bad, even if he still loathed the idea of asking for it. 

[moonroads]

When the demon king opens up [Oz Anniversary card story]

When the demon king opens up

Chapter 1

Akira: Well then, I’ve finished organizing the documents, so I’ll go for some tea…

Akira: Gyaa!

Akira: W-what is that sound!? Did lightning strike nearb—Bradley!? Are you alright?

Bradley: That hurts…! Oi, Mithra, don’t drag me into this!

Akira: (….The sound that seems like lightning, coupled with Bradley and Mithra….w-what if….)

Oz: <<Vox Nox>>

Mithra: <<Arthim>>

Akira: (I knew it! Everyone’s with their magical instruments, so this troublesome situation is..)

Oz: Do you truly believe you can wound me with that level of magic?

Mithra: Huh? Normally, if something is this close when I apply my magic, not even dust should remain.

Bradley. Aren’t you the one who said we should aim to attack Oz while he’s conducting lessons for the Central wizards? Please do something about this.

Bradley: But you were the one who went and pounced on him before those lessons started! Damn it, <<Adono….>>!

Oz: <<Vox Nox>>

Bradley, Mithra: ?!

Akira: Both of them disappeared…?!

Oz: Before they cause any more trouble, I teleported them some distance away.

Riquet: Ah, Oz, there you are! Mr Sage is here too. It’s time for our lessons to start.

Cain: I heard a loud noise, did something happen?

Arthur: It’s as if lightning struck…..

Oz: No, it’s just your imagination.

Akira: (He deceived them so boldly…..)

Cain: Really? Well, as long as no one got hurt….huh?

Akira: Ah, it rained so suddenly. The sky also got cloudy…

Riquet: Ah! The sheets we hanged with Rutile and the others are still outside. We must take them in…

Arthur: That’s hard on you. I’ll lend a hand…

Oz: ….<<Vox Nox>>

Riquet: The rain stopped….! Thank you very much, Oz. Now the laundry will not get wet.

Cain: To think that you can change even the weather to your will, you’re amazing, Oz! The rain’s all cleared up too.

Oz: It was just a hindrance to our lessons. Now, let’s begin.

Arthur: As expected of Sir Oz! We’ll be in your care today too.

Akira: (For Oz to calmly use such powerful magic to change the weather after that fight….as expected, Oz is truly a strong wizard.)

---

Shylock: Welcome, Sir Sage.

Akira: Good evening, Shylock. I came to return the glass I borrowed the other day. It looks like Oz and Figaro are here today.  

Figaro: Hey, Sir Sage. Why don’t you join us for a drink? We’re in the middle of bragging about our students. Right, Oz?

Oz: Bragging was not my intention. You only spoke as you pleased.

Figaro: Don’t be so cold. Tell me what happens next. What did Arthur and Riquet do again during today’s lesson?

Akira: (Now that I think about it…..)

(When speaking to Figaro, it seems like Oz shows a side of himself that is slightly different compared to the persona he normally presents to us.)

(Rather than letting his guard down, their long history with each other allows him to freely acts as he likes.)

Figaro: Ah, yes. Have you heard of that matter before, Sir Sage?

Akira: That matter?

Chapter 2

Figaro: I heard from Riquet that the Central wizards will be visiting Granvelle castle tomorrow.

Lately, it seems that a section of that castle has been open to the public during weekends. Might that be why he’s showing interest?

Akira: Now that you mention it, until now, it’s rare to be able to walk around the castle and sightsee in your own leisure.

Oz: In the past, when Arthur spoke of it during one of our lessons, Riquet expressed interest.

In a few days, it is said that we’ll be invited to the castle for the ceremony, hence his decision.

Akira: Really? So that’s why! Will you be joining them too, Oz?

Oz: No, I will not.

Figaro: Why? This is a rare chance, you should go together with the Central wizards.

Akira:  That’s true. I think Oz going will make them happy.

Oz: I decline. If you are interested, how about you join them instead.

Akira: ….me?

---

Person of the castle: Dear all, it is with pleasure that I invite you to Granvelle Castle. Sir Arthur, welcome back – you’ve been sorely missed.

Akira: Hello, thank you for attending to us.

Arthur: I extend my gratitude in attending to us today. Please entrust me with the task of giving them a tour of the castle.

Person of the castle: Understood. After you conclude your sightseeing, we’ve prepared tea and sweets procured from a famous confectionery in the kingdom.

Riquet: Wow….! Sir Sage, they said sweets!

Akira: You can look forward to it, Riquet.

Riquet: Yes! Since it’s a special chance, I wish Oz came together with us, though.

This time, no matter how many times we tried to invite him, he did not agree! Honestly….

Arthur: It is unfortunate, but Sir Oz must have his reasons.

Cain: You bet. Next time, let’s ask him earlier so we all can go together.

Person of the castle: Is that so…….That person is not present today. That is gratifying to hear…

Riquet: ….? Why are you so fearful? Oz is not scary.

Arthur: I concur, Sir Oz is extremely kind and wonderful.

Person of the castle: I beg to differ, but Oz is the demon king of the legends…..

Akira: (It is true that Oz is such a powerful wizard that he could bend the weather to his will, and it seems that there are numerous menacing legends about him….)

It’s alright, there is more to him than just being a fearsome wizard.

Cain: Yeah, he’s a strong fellow, but he’s not as scary as stories say.

Riquet: Right! He even helped us change the weather yesterday so the sheets will not get wet…

Cain: Also, thanks to his lessons, we got to learn much more magic!

Arthur: On days when duties prevent me from returning to the wizards’ residence, Sir Oz will quietly come to check up on me.

Person of the castle: I-is that so…? He is quite different from the Oz I’ve imagined….

Arthur: I understand this might be a little difficult to take in. However, I hope you will come to understand just how wonderful Sir Oz is.

Chapter 3

After a round of sightseeing in the castle, I went out to the balcony for some fresh air.

Akira: (I’m glad that person seemed to show interest in Oz. If only Oz came together with us….)

In the sunset that colored the castle surroundings, a large bird that looked like a crow with black wings and red eyes flew by.

Akira: (Coming here reminds me of that incident with the flying shadow**. That time, was it this balcony that Oz and I jumped down from?)

(Immersing myself in my emotions, I leaned against the parapet and stared at the castle grounds. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind made me stagger).

Akira: Wha….

Oz: It’s dangerous.

I could hear a familiar voice close by. There, Oz was supporting my body.

Akira: Huh, Oz? Why are you here?

Upon my question, Oz averted his face, looking embarrassed. His side profile reminded me of the black wings and the red eyes of the bird from just now.

Akira: Oz, were you the bird that was flying just now…?

Oz: …Figaro and the twins said that I’m always difficult to invite into things, so I should sometimes join you on my own will. 

You too, said something similar last night, didn’t you.

Akira: Oz….

(As I thought, the Oz who shows consideration to us like this is more than just a fearsome wizard).

Oz: What is your business here?

Akira: The others wanted to explore the castle or greet their acquaintances, so I came here to look at the sunset.

And then, I remembered about Oz and I jumping down from this place, during the flying shadow incident.

I thought I was going to die then and there, but thanks to you regaining your use of magic, we managed to defeat the flying shadow.

Oz: ...I was only able to use my magic because you entrusted your powers to me.

If you had not placed your trust in me, the outcome would have differed greatly. …I offer my thanks.

Akira: ….!

No, it’s me who should be thanking you. You trusted in me, so I was able to trust you.

Thank you for that, Oz. I’ll continue to count on you.

In the sunset, we shared a smile. Just then, I heard the voices of Arthur and the others from within the castle.

Arthur: Sir Sage, where do you happen to be? Upon Cain’s invitation, we are about to sneak out into the city. Would you like to come with us?

Akira: Yes, definitely! That’s right, Oz, let’s go together.

Oz: Night draws nigh. Before I lose the ability to use magic, I should return to the wizards’ residence….

Akira: If that is so, may I ask you to draw upon my power? If so, we can return together with the others…if that is alright?

Oz: ….

If Akira wishes so.

Akira: Yes!

With eyes that seemed like they were narrowing in resignation, I pulled Oz’s hand and walked towards the Central wizards.

I looked forward to the night that’s approaching.

---

** refers to theトビカゲリ that appears in the main story. I’m not very sure how to translate this, so any suggestions are appreciated!

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Strictly Dramione (Part 6)

Strictly Dramione Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange Fest 2020:

Busted Valentine by Anonymous - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione find themselves stuck together on Valentine’s Day.

The Secret Admirer by Anonymous - M, one-shot - When the Ministry mandates mail boxes be put on the outside of everyone’s offices for a Valentine’s Day valentine exchange, single and proud Hermione Granger cannot contain her hatred of the idea. But when a surprise greets her on the most love-filled day of the year, she can’t help but be transported back to her Hogwart’s days and a certain secret admirer. Voldemort died/no horcruxes AU. Rivalry between Slytherins and Gryffindor was just house pride based.

Item Number Seventeen: Complete by Anonymous - E, one-shot - Ticking off another item from their list, Hermione has a surprise in store for her husband on Valentines Day.

It Was Always You, Falling For Me by Anonymous - E, WIP  - It was nothing.It was a game.Yes, a silly little game, played by silly people who, in spite of their differences, often came together to drown their grief in excessive amounts of firewhiskey and spiked butterbeer.The first time Hermione Granger kissed Draco Malfoy she hadn’t known it was him.She couldn’t reiterate enough: It was a game, nothing more; one she hadn’t particularly wanted to take part in (but she was buzzed and glad to prove a point).

A Proper Field Agent by Anonymous - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco go undercover as a married couple on a Valentine's/honeymoon retreat to a Beauty Expo in Las Vegas to take down Marcus Flint and his Squib trafficking ring.

It Could Be Good by Anonymous - E, one-shot - Sent in search of a lost city, Hermione and Draco fall under the spell of elemental magic in ways neither expected but both welcomed.

The Proposal by Anonymous - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco discuss their options after they've been matched by the Ministry in a marriage law.

In Your Dreams by Anonymous - T, one-shot - When Draco agreed to test a new product for Fred and George before Valentine's Day, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. But it just might change his life.

An Unexpected Evening by Anonymous - G, 5 chapters - Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have worked together for the past year to bring Death Eater's to justice. Neither of them knew they'd have a date for Valentine's Day, but plans change, and opportunities are created.

Implicit Intentions by Anonymous - M, one-shot - When words can't properly express the way they feel, Hermione and Draco rely on body language to guide them through an unspoken relationship. Unfortunately, sometimes communication is key.

The Last First Kiss by Anonymous - E, one-shot - “You’ve been avoiding me.”She stepped out of his presence and hummed. “You know why.”“Granger— ”“Oh look,” she crossed her arms and tilted her head in the direction of the common room door where Harry and his girlfriend Daphne had just entered alongside Daphne’s little sister, Draco’s betrothed. One Astoria Greengrass, who’d been kept home to finish her last year of schooling so that she could finish the lessons that would prepare her for a life as a pureblooded society wife. Draco’s pureblooded society wife.“Here's the reason why.”

Thank Luna Later by Anonymous - G, one-shot - Luna has an existential crisis and decides that the way to solve it is by getting Draco and Hermione together. Part of the 2020 Strictly Dramione Valentine's Fest.

Make It Real by Anonymous  - T, one-shot - They were just pretending. And then they got stuck together. What now?

Love With Me by Anonymous - M, one-shot - Draco and Hermione make amends during 8th year. Feelings develop, but who will be the first to admit it?

Worshiping at the Alter of You by Anonymous - E, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is certain of only one thing: that his wife is a goddess and its his job to worship at her feet.

Her Secret Admirer by Anonymous - T, one-shot - Valentine's Day is coming up and Hermione has discovered she has a secret admirer. What will they gift her next! Written for the Strictly Dramione Valentine's Day Fic Exchange, 2020.

Getting Ready by Anonymous - T, one-shot - If Draco Malfoy is her boyfriend, why is Hermione Granger going to the Valentine’s Gala alone?

Crash Into Me by Anonymous - E, one-shot - Hermione runs into a familiar-looking blonde on a particularly bad day. At her wit's end, she throws herself into his arms and kisses him soundly. Surely he can pretend to be her boyfriend for a minute right? What's the worst that could happen?

Picking Daisies by Anonymous - not rated, one-shot - Draco is obsessed with Hermione, but she won't even look his way. But that doesn't matter, because Malfoys always get what they want... One way or another.

A Valentine's Day Ghost Story by Anonymous - not rated, one-shot - The torch was passed to the new generation. Can those lost in history be found?

This Day by Anonymous - T, one-shot - She pursed her lips, “ha bloody ha, I too have no date. But misery loves company, so we can get drunk together.”“Granger, I think you may be drunk already.”She waved him off as she drank more, “Potato, potahto. As long as I’m drunk, I hate this day.”

Half Crazy by Anonymous - G, one-shot - When the Ministry hosts a Valentine's Day exchange, Hermione has strong feelings about participating. Draco, unsure of the reception, also has feelings of a completely different variety.

Stuck in the Middle by Anonymous - M, one-shot - Harry Potter plays matchmaker for Valentine's Day and chaos ensues.

As You Wish by Anonymous - M, one-shot - "A Ministry-mandated Valentine’s disco/networking/fancy-dress event? It’s pathetic! And besides, Valentine’s Day is the worst holiday of the year.” A chorus of groans and ‘oh come now’s’ came from around the table of Hermione’s DMLE co-workers.“No, it’s true!” she said, “It does nothing but put enormous pressure on people to make grand romantic gestures, buy gifts and flowers and stupid cards, while making others feel terrible because they haven’t anyone to buy them for. And if you’re in a relationship, it’s inevitable that at least one partner feels obligated to go out - to some packed to the gills restaurant with run-off-their-feet waitstaff and a pedestrian three course, prix fixe menu marked up 50% because it includes a glass of shitty South African sparkling wine and a straggly red rose at one of the place settings! And I won’t even get into the sexism that underpins it all. The whole thing infuriates me.”“You not get any cards this year, Granger?” Draco Malfoy’s drawl sounded from behind her as he approached the table with a fresh round of drinks.“Fuck off, Malfoy,” she said reflexively. 

Six Hours to Midnight by Anonymous - E, one-shot - With little else planned for the most romantic day of the year, Hermione Granger is begrudgingly dragged to the Greengrass Valentine Masquerade. But as she assumes her new persona, she can't help but run into Draco Malfoy again and again...and again.

Thunderstruck by Anonymous - T, one-shot - "Even a tiny bit of deceit is dishonourable when it's used for selfish or cowardly reasons." Jeanne Birdsall Draco Malfoy is deceiving himself, lying to his son, and existing in a bubble of misery and loneliness. He yearns for love, for companionship, for something to make him feel anything but the sadness that consumes him. When his truly Slytherin friends turn to Hermione Granger, will she pick up their subtle clues and offer to help him? A story of new beginnings, second chances, falling in love, and air guitars.

Together is a Wonderful Place to be by Anonymous - T, one-shot - When an old flame returns to town, can Hermione put their troubles in the past and start over?

Howlers and Pearls by Anonymous - M, one-shot - They are just friends. Until some bad dates and insightful friends make them reconsider

Strictly Dramione - Valentine’s Day Fest 2021:

Platonic Roommates Will Never Be A Thing by StrawberryBrownies - E, one-shot - A typical day of drunken brunch and drunken Quidditch with friends turns into more than Hermione could have hoped for.

My Favourite Book by LaBelladoneX - M, 4 chapters - What do two Slytherins, a Gryffindor, a Time-Turner, and a vat of Polyjuice have in common? No? Well, let’s just say they have the power to make Blaise Zabini a very, very satisfied wizard, Dean Thomas a wealthy one, and Draco Malfoy even more in love with Hermione Granger than ever before. This story also reveals the identity of Draco’s favourite book. Any ideas what it might be? Let me give you some clues, okay? It’s not to be found in the libraries of Malfoy Manor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, or Sunnydale High School. You also won’t find it at the Bodleian Library at Oxford or The Yale University Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. Nor can it be located in the home improvements or large print sections of your local libraries. But you might just find it sitting behind a desk on Level One of the British Ministry of Magic, pining away, and wishing Seamus Finnigan would just drop dead. Written for Strictly Dramione’s Valentine’s Fest 2021

Hands Up by SlytherinHermione - E, one-shot - It's Valentine's Day and Professor Hermione Granger still doesn't have a gift for her boyfriend.In her mid-thirties and a single mom, the thought of having a boyfriend makes her giddy... The fact that said boyfriend is Professor Draco Malfoy, well that causes a whole different slew of reactions.She wants to spend the rest of her life with him, but she's still keeping certain aspects of herself secret. Maybe showing him her deepest desires might be the perfect gift...

Will You Be My Valentine? by Snowflake_Dazzle - T, one-shot - The Valentine's Day Dance is coming up and there is one person Hermione wants to go with. But Draco hates being back at Hogwarts and doesn't want to do anything more than just survive.

We Can't Be Friends by psiphifan - E, one-shot - Draco Malfoy has been a widower for two years and his mother is pushing him towards suitable second wives. Hermione Granger has been divorced for over a year, but as Minister for Magic, she has little time for dalliances outside of work. What happens when they both happen to venture into the muggle world on Valentine's Day weekend in 2021?

Divinyl Intervention by Elliac77 - E, one-shot - Hermione and Ginny embark on a mission to find Hermione a man. When the perfect man is found, it seems he needs a little convincing. Will their ‘staged intervention’ succeed?Written for the Strictly Dramione Valentine's Fest 2021Prompts : “I am way too sober for this” / “Can you two get a room please?”

Exeunt, Pursued by Bear by Maira - M, one-shot - “If I see one more bloody pink bear, I’ll bloody well decapitate it.”Wherein Draco Malfoy visits multiple bars, encounters fruity cocktails, and falls into Hermione Granger's lap. On Valentine's Day. Because, of course.Written for the Strictly Dramione Valentines Fest 2021.

Unexpected Champagne by rowbee - G, one-shot - Hermione wants to spread the love this Valentine’s and a too-helpful Draco might’ve made it more exciting for unsuspecting people.

5 Million Galleons by Sexidebater - G, one-shot - Submission for the "STRICTLY DRAMIONE - VALENTINE’S FEST 2021" Prompt chosen: "I am way too sober for this."Pansy has roped Hermione into a charity auction where a Valentines Date with Hermione is the prize to the highest bidder. What does Hermione's V-Day look like when Draco drops 5 million galleons for her hand in date? Absolute fluff that will leave you wanting more!

Haste by Lostinthenightrain  - M, one-shot - no summary

Linger by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - It's too early to get up.

This fest is ongoing.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

My Wild Heart Bleeds || Morgan, Adam, Blanche, Margot, & Constance

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: UMWC Humanities Dept

PARTIES: @walker-journal, @harlowhaunted, @g0t-ri5h, @constancecunningham, @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Constance sits in on Morgan’s lit seminar.

CONTAINS: Mild gore, death tw  

The afternoon section of Fear and Loathing: Western Literature of Speculation was crammed into a corner seminar room designed for intimate grad-level meetings half the size, baked into the side of the building through its set of large windows like a hothouse. Even with zombie strength, they wouldn’t slide up more than an inch to let in the cooling September air. Morgan smiled brightly at her students, as if enthusiasm alone could make the central air in the building work double time for them. “I really like the place you’re coming from with that point! Do you think it’s fair and accurate for me to rephrase your thought as, ‘the debate between Carmilla and Laura’s father in the dinner scene ends formally unresolved, with Carmilla having the last word, positioning her as a possible victor in the exchange, a position which then renders credibility to her reasonable points and, by extension, to her own perspective and humanity?’” Morgan nodded encouragingly at the girl, Maxine. Her rephrasing was a bit of a generous take on her thought, but not completely unfounded. 

“Uh...sure?” Maxine replied.

“Amazing! So, going off of Maxine’s thought, what possibilities open up for us when considering the figure of Carmilla? And, does recognizing the humanity behind her perspective complicate the more critical, even predatory ways of viewing her we discussed on Monday?”

The class trudged on in spite of the heat, fixated on passing through each moment that brought them closer to the end of the seminar. Around and behind them, the windows blazed with light. A fissure down the centermost panel glared like liquid metal as it spidered outward, spreading crooked fingers as far as they could reach, as if it meant to rip itself free, seemingly of its own accord.

The refulgent heat made Adam even less inclined to engage with class then was usual for someone who’d entered higher academia mainly to play football and have somewhere to stay while stabbing monsters to death after practice. Thus Adam had chosen his curriculum purely on the basis of what made it easier to flirt with his adamic advisor or what sounded vaguely tangential to his higher purpose of putting bullets in horror movie rejects. 

What was literature of speculation? Who knows? Adam, Terry, and Andros had privately speculated on Professor Beck’s ‘assets’ at various points. Thus Adam figured they’d satisfied the syllabus requirements. 

The DIE fellows were sweating in the back of the class and praying for death whenever one of their more enthusiastic classmate decided to ‘try hard’ on this Gothic Lesbian stuff. 

She just wanted to go home, but Blanche had to rush to work after class to help Mercy on some assignment - which probably meant she was going to be stuck on photography stake-out duty again. At least her car had working air conditioning. She was technically a nerd (Blanche had really done the reading), but it was too hot to really do anything comfortably - even listening to Morgan talk about Carmilla and humanity and thinking deeply. 

Blanche went rigid in her seat the second she felt the presence, her colored pen dropping down onto her notebook. She wouldn't have been overly concerned (she felt ghosts pass through campus all the time), but her conversation with Morgan after she warded up her house meant trouble or worse. As calmly as Blanche could manage, she tuned the lecture out as she sat back in her chair, quietly scanning the room with narrowed eyes as the temperature in the room plummeted. Fuck. Fuck. She swiveled around her seat, looking straight over the DIE boys and Adam’s head and straight into the ghosts’ angry eyes. 

Oh fuck. 

The color drained from her face as Blanche’s hand immediately shot into the air as she almost flew out of her seat. “Morgan-I-Have-A-Really-Important-Question!” Blanche blurted out immediately. 

Margot had all but fallen asleep in the sweltering heat of the classroom. It didn’t help that she’d been up half the night, awoken by her recurring night terror. Her mind was so tired. Still, Morgan was trying her best to be an engaging professor, to lead the class discussion in a formative direction. It was a pity Margot wasn’t interested in the class. She would Google the SparkNotes later.

Her eyes were just now closing, lulled by the dulcet tones of Morgan’s voice. It reminded her of a lullaby one of her nannies used to sing. So -- soothing… Sleepy...

Interrupted, jolted awake by the student behind her, knocking Margot’s seat as she stood up and began shouting for attention. Margot turned to give Blanche a hard stare, the girl flapping her hand back and forth. How rude.

Morgan was teasing out a comment from another student. Everyone was melting in their seats in the worst way but they were so close to stumbling upon the paradoxical existence of Carmilla’s complex humanity and the inhuman treatment she received in the narrative’s third act, the fear behind that swerve--- and then Blanche interrupted. “Uh...yes, Blanche?” This wasn’t usually her way, and neither was the two-notches-away-from-full-panic expression. “Go ahead. Unless the question is about excusing yourself because you’re not feeling well, because you can just...go, in that case.” 

Behind them, the window’s spider veins multiplied. The glass trembled in its pain, whimpering under the pressure of Constance’s grip. What had she expected when she drifted up to the campus, looking for signs of the woman? And yet, what could have prepared her for how blindingly smug she looked as she lectured her students? How shameless and bitterly ironic, to speak on humanity, on true feeling and justice? Constance barely noticed the blonde girl look at her. Her gaze was steadfast on Morgan, who sported neither a scratch nor an ounce of regret. Constance focused her energy on the glass, wispy tears running down her face. It wasn’t fair. If she didn’t get to have her life, she shouldn’t have to watch a Bachman run amok with theirs either. With a shriek, she  burst the window inward, hailing glass down on the whole class. 

Morgan ducked to cover her face gave Blanche a look that said, Oh, is that what you meant?

Adam’s eyes had flicked up when Blanche’s body language had changed, gaze scanning the room for anything new before settling back on her face. Adam was well aware that Blanche could perceive things he couldn’t. Just as Adam constantly felt waves of ice-hot inhumanity rippling off Professor Beck whenever he was in the same room as her, so too could Blanche be a sexier and less creepy version of that 6th Sense kid. 

Honestly Adam couldn’t tell if Blanche just was having a paranormal activity moment or was just nerdgasming about a vampy lesbian flick with a depressing lack of sex scenes. Blanche ticked off Miss Narcolepsy over there and for a few seconds Adam, Terry, and Andros sat up in mutual of some awesome cat-fight action. 

Then in one shitfuck moment glass was falling down and lots of people were doing the duck and panic thing. 

If this was a roomful of Hunter kids here, all Adam would have had to do was designate the extraction point at the nearest Safe Space and watch as everyone fell into a coordinated boot camp pace outta here.

Still he wasn’t sure if this was some structural thing, ghost stuff, or someone just popped some X-man powers from a Victorian sexual awakening. “Yo Harlow,” Adam said across the room as he tried to shake glass shards from his hair. “Got any Caspers?” 

Blanche had just grimaced at Margot when screams echoed from the surrounding students as glass scattered over the class. Pure driven panic flew through her, and she froze until she heard Adam yell out to her. Caspers. A much less important part of her mind screamed at talking about ghosts in public, but it was enough to check her back into reality

“Adam, she’s after Morgan!!” Blanche swore, clamping her hand over her ears as Constance let out another anguished scream. Fuck, that was disorienting. Students continued to panic, some running out the door as fast as they could as lights overheard started flickering and then exploding, the temperature dropping to a cool chill. Desks started flying towards their beloved professor, crashing against the whiteboard behind them. 

“Fuck, my bag, where’s my bag?” It had just been right next to her. 

The panicking students had punted her bag - full of salt, iron rods, an iron dagger, a gun, and wards-  away from her and she was trying to strong arm her way through to get to Morgan. Some poor student went flying as a chair was ripped from under him, a crunch of metal as the chair bent and snapped before their eyes. Blanche shoved someone out of her way, rushing toward the front of the room.

“Morgan, no!”

The sharp end of the now broken leg of the chair was rammed straight into Morgan’s stomach, pinning her to the whiteboard behind her. And then all hell broke loose.

Margot covered her head with her hands as glass sprayed across the room. She could feel the shallow cuts on her forearms where shards had spliced her skin, but the pain was an afterthought. Were her eyes deceiving her? Margot couldn’t fathom the chaos that was taking place. Flying desks, shattering windows; were they experiencing some kind of tornado?

While other students fled the room, Margot was frozen in place, watching as her professor was impaled by an invisible force and Blanche was shouting about her stupid bag. What purse was so important at this moment? “What the fuck is going on?!” Margot screamed over the chaos. 

None of this was real. She had surely just fallen asleep in class. Yes, this was all some part of her twisted nightmares. “This is a dream.” Margot whispered to herself. “You’re about to wake up.” She repeated this mantra as she pinched herself. Only she wasn’t waking up. 

The world shattered around Morgan. Sharp edges and razor points pinwheeled toward her face, too fast for her to catch her horrified reflection spliced through each piece. The fog around her senses parted; Morgan swore later that she felt every groove in the wood grain as it raced through her body, heavier and slower than the pole that had killed her, but no less painful. “Fuck you…” She hissed in a whisper, her lungs wheezing as they remembered the blood rushing through them, the bite of concrete at her back, and the numb feeling of death in her mouth. 

Constance screamed again as she drove the chair leg harder into the wall. “Stop! What’s wrong with you? Just stop! Stop and die!” The old overhead lights buzzed anxiously. Sparks burst and showered down on the class. Children. She hadn’t even been thinking about the children. Constance drifted back, staring with wild confusion as students phased in and out of her, neither seeing nor caring, much less understanding… What was she becoming? Constance reached out for a small one, squeezing himself under a chair as tightly as he could. “I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s her. She’s making me do this, she can’t leave me alone!” The chair flew back against the wall and snapped in two.

Morgan’s body trembled, trying to fix itself and coming up against the chair leg in her chest. She gripped it with both hands and pulled, gasping as it inched out, dripping with dark, tar like blood. Her eyes found Margot’s as she struggled. “This. Is. Real,” she said between gasps. “Help Blanche or get out of here.”

Adam was a normally laid back guy, preferring to let non-monster life just proceed at its own pace. But he’d been conditioned to respond when the spooky side reared its head. He hollered to Terry, and Andros to get people out. Luckily instincts from the football field asserted themselves and the two other DIE started ushering students off. 

Adam’s backpack would probably be a national security concern and unfortunately most of the stuff in here could only harm physical threats. But nevertheless Adam withdrew a long cruel length of barbed wire that’d done more then  its fair share of strangling and trip-wire duty lately. The cold iron glinted beneath spots of rust and dried blood. 

Technically it was a weapon against Fae, but iron was iron. 

Adam could trust Blanche to do her ghostbusters stuff, while he could only help those he could see. He vaulted over twisted chairs as if they were track hurdles, trying to navigate a room quickly becoming a telekinetic warzone. Adam knelt beside Morgan, spooling out the suspiciously-stained barbed wire in a circle around them both. 

“Oh you’re still alive Prof ….cool, uh just a sec.” 

She’s making me do this, she can’t leave me alone. For a single moment, Blanche could almost understand Morgan inherently wanting to destroy Constance’s soul. There was no time, however, to dwell on Constance’s blatant hypocrisy woven in her rationalization of endangering a room full of people. She ducked under pieces of flying debris as Adam launched himself at Morgan. Blanche, already in a poor mood, wondered only briefly if she should be concerned about Adam killing Morgan for her obvious inhuman nature of surviving being impaled - would Morgan be necessary to kill for humanity?? - but decided that the only thing she could do right now was trust him, even through the underlying anger. 

Constance launched herself at Adam and Morgan, her infuriated scream echoing in Blanche’s ears as she realized she couldn’t pass the invisible wall the iron circle created. Blanche wasn’t thinking clearly as she frantically searched for her bag, head whipping around for the stupid thing. Before she knew it, though, she was throwing herself in front of Adam and Morgan just as a large piece of desk ripped from the floor and was thrown at them. 

Blanche’s hands raised out in front of her and there was a loud crash. 

She hardly registered the pain, she was used to it. Honestly, she was more thrown off by the large broken window in the back of the classroom the desk had flown out of. Whoops, maybe she had given that a little too much juice. The desk had sailed away from the three in front, going straight through Constance and crashing through the window. Screaming was erupting from the remaining students in the classroom.

“Please, get my bag!” Blanche snapped at Margot, breathing heavily. “It’s pink and white and it has things that can stop this. Now! I’ll try to stop her from doing any more damage to anyone else but I can only play ping pong for so long before I pass out!”

Despite Morgan’s words Margot couldn’t make herself believe this was reality. The black strands of blood that oozed from the professor’s wounds were enough to convince herself this was some kind of fever, probably the result of a concussion or even blood loss from her shallow wounds. Nonetheless Margot felt some kind of control, different than how her nightmares usually felt. 

Margot watched as one of the remaining students, she thought his name was Adam, bound over the anarchy that had taken over the classroom, before surrounding himself and Morgan in some kind of strange, ritualistic circle. Wow, her brain was so very good at conjuring things up, it had even given Blanche some Carrie-esque superpowers. Doing as Morgan had instructed, Margot turned to Blanche who was in the midst of quite the battle.

“Okay, okay! I can do that!” Margot yelled back to Blanche’s request. Pink and white, pink and white. She repeated the description to herself as she searched. Margot dodged the multitude of flying furniture as her eyes scanned the classroom floor for the bag. Margot thought back to where they had been sitting before all of this had started up. She looked in this direction, spotting the bag. Margot scrambled towards it on all fours, her palms and knees burning as she did so. “Blanche! I got it!” Just as her left hand clasped the object, she heard a deep crunch. A large overhead light had fallen, or rather, had been dropped onto her wrist by an unseen force. Margot could feel a shattering in her bones and glass in her skin. She cried out. For a dream, this pain felt so very real. She reached out with her other hand, taking hold of the bag. Margot shook the heavy light fixture off of her and cradled the injury. “Here.” She whimpered, holding it up as high as she could manage, the splinters and glass digging in deeper.

Morgan tugged on the chair leg in her chest. She could imagine how it splintered around her body and all the screaming she would’ve been doing if she’d still had a life to lose. Should she scream now? Would it make anything any better if she made a big ol’ holler and begged for someone to make this stop? Would any of this be any less ridiculous? Morgan started to laugh. It was a deathly, wheezing little rattle at first, but as the chair leg popped free and she fell into her student, it grew stronger. “Well that was weird and random and lucky, right?” She said to Adam. The classroom was still flying in chaos. Half the students had made it out but half a dozen remained, most of them cowering in corners or frozen in shock. “Class dismissed!” She called chucking the chair leg at Constance. It sailed through her and clattered against the wall, bopping Maxine on the head. “Apologies! But, seriously, go!” What else was there to do? There was some very gnarly looking wire around her and Adam that looked suspiciously purposeful. She gave him a sidelong look, brow arched in a silent question as she knelt down and reached outside it for her bag. “Can you see what’s going on?” She asked, running her hand through, but finding everything but what she was looking for. She undid all the zippers and flaps and started to dump the contents on the ground. “Don’t see many frat boys carrying this in their backpack. I’m not sure if that’s technically allowed on campus…” But anxious blabbering wasn’t actually making anything better. She needed to find-- her salt! “Perfect.” Morgan opened the velvet pouch and heaved the contents across the floor. The salt pattered the ground like rain. It spread thin, rolling wide across the dusty tile. Constance flew up to one of the chairs still standing, unharmed. She clenched her fists as she took in the double barrier between her and her ‘prize.’ “Sorry to keep disappointing you,” Morgan sneered, her eyes drifting downwards at her failed ploy. The feeling was mutual.

Adam had known Morgan was an inhuman since first being in class with her and feeling the frigid fire sensation her proximity set off all through his body. But though Adam had been born with the clairvoyant ability to sense all supernatural creatures, well those with physical bodies anyway, his Hunter vibes weren’t as specific as those who’d undergone more specific mutation. Morgan could have just been the world’s biggest pixie for all he knew. 

 But since the prof was taking this whole impalement thing like a champ, Adam was placing his bets on one of the undead. Since he’d seen her during the day without wickerman shit going down, the Hunter was going to very tentatively put his money on his gothic lit teacher being a zombie.

Was Morgan Beck actually a two hundred and twenty something year old Mary Shelly moonlighting as a Texan? Time would tell. 

Morgan asked some rather uncharitable questions of why a gentleman was carrying bloodstained barbed wire in his bag and if he could see anything. “Trying to keep cows outta the keggers,” he explained cheekily before turning to survey the madness going on. He wanted to help Blanche and not just chill in this iron circle, but the simple fact was: “Can’t see anything except shit flying everywhere and Harlow doing some cheer squad poses.”

“Morgan! Adam! Stay in the circle!” Blanche yelled frantically. Playing telekinetic interference was harder than she thought, and she didn't want them to get hurt chucking trying to chuck salt. Out of frustration, Constancee stopped aiming at Adam and Morgan and aimed at Blanche herself, seeing it faster to go through her. Debris was building up as Blanche redirected things to slam into the walls, Constance howling in rage at her failures. 

Finally, Margot yelled to her, and Blanche heard the best news of the day. Unfortunately, Constance wasn’t deaf. “No! Fuck -” She saw the light fall, and feared the worst - but Margot was okay, for now, holding her bag high enough for all to see. “Margot, run! Or take cover!!” Blanche reached out her hand, and her bag flew through the air. Constance tried to rip it down away from Blanche, causing salt and books and a small dagger to go clattering to the ground. Blanche tugged back, the pain in her head excruciating as she gave one hard mental yank, and it flew back into her. Blanche wasted no time; she finally grasped her iron rod tightly, throwing her bag to the side.  Constance threw things, trying to knock her off balance to get her away or worse. There was no use. Blanche ducked or threw them away herself before she was close enough to --

“This doesn’t concern you! Run like the others, why don’t you! Run, before I--”

Blanche cut Constance off with a hard swing of the iron rod. She dissolved with one last scream, and the presence faded away quickly. Blanche felt like her skin was on fire, but the tiny pin pricks in her skin were gone. They were alone. It was over. She looked back to where Adam and Morgan were, their figures blurring as the rod slipped from her hand. “She’s gone. It’s safe.” Blanche’s knees buckled underneath her and she collapsed, utterly exhausted. “Call 9-1-1, Margot’s hurt.” Blanche called quietly. She laid backward, unable to keep herself upright as she closed her eyes tight and sank into darkness. Time to rest.

The bag flew from her grasp, and at Blanche’s order, Margot reduced her form to a fetal position, not knowing if she could make it to the exit. She covered her head and drifted in and out of consciousness, her mind forgetting, or rather, repressing the memory of what had just occurred.

Margot was awoken by Constance’s piercing scream, her ears continuing to ring from the sound for minutes afterwards, but at least she was back to the real world. Finally she was out of the strange scenario her brain had conjured up after the tornado, or hurricane, or whatever it was. 

She began to stand, holding her head. “I’m okay. I’m fine!” Margot assured Blanche and the rest of them, though her body was throbbing. “Blanche?” Margot could see the girl’s crumbled frame on the ground. “Blanche!” Margot ran to her and kneeled beside her. She brought her head to Blanche’s chest and heard the slow thumping of her heart. At least she was alive. Margot took Blanche’s hand, not knowing how else to be useful. “Professor, are you okay?” She looked back at Morgan and Adam.

It never felt like it was over, with Constance. Morgan stayed still, trembling and on high alert. It wasn’t until Blanche’s body slipped to the ground with a thud that she snapped back into step with the rest of the world. All the wrecked furniture leapt out at her eyes, super saturated with violence, confounding her sense of space with their jutting wrong angles, dusty debris, and bloody ends… blood…

“I-I’m fine,” Morgan stammered, stepping over Adam’s wire ring. “Who all is still in here? Adam, you’re good, right? Margot--” She stumbled over to the girl, looking at the mess of her wrist. “You’re gonna need to get to student health, or the hospital. But you’ve in one piece, and you’re gonna be okay!” She squeezed the girl’s shoulder, nodding encouragingly. If it wasn’t for the dark stain of dead blood on her cardigan, you wouldn’t have known she’d been run through and stuck to the wall only minutes ago. “Blanche--” she sighed, shrugged, and stepped over the girl. She would be okay. Morgan could carry her out to her car and get her squared up in her own apartment easy. “Carlos!” She gave the boy a sharp look. 

He was grinning sheepishly, scrunched up in the corner, as if it would make him any smaller than his six feet two inches. “Sorry. It just seemed, like, better to try to be invisible?  But I’m going now. I’m--”

Carlos paled and bent double as he vomited cheetos, acid, and clear fluid on the floor.

Morgan followed his line of vision and found-- “Shit, Maxine! Maxine?” She pushed the rest of the classroom furniture aside and knelt down to where she lay on the floor. There was a deep gash in her head, soaking her sandy brown hair black. Her eyelid hung down the wrong way and there was some kind of matter sticking up through her hair. Morgan’s stomach clenched. She didn’t dare touch her like this. There was no telling how few barriers there were between her brain and Morgan now, or if there was any tender, fresh-peeled skin she’d crave taking a bite of-- Maxine had been quiet, depressed, wry humored, blunt when you could get her to open up. She really wasn’t good at explicating literature into coherent theory, but she was young and soft and struggling, and now she was nothing. “Carlos--” she said, voice shaking. “Please leave. All of you…” She turned around and collected Blanche off the floor and into her arms. “Grab your stuff, or don’t, but we’re not staying here. It’s not safe.” It was starting to seem like nowhere was.

“I’m alright Professor,” Adam quietly gathered both his and Blanche’s occult paraphernalia while the Medium was being attended to by Morgan. Though salt, iron, and other instruments were unlikely to arouse that much suspicion, it didn’t make sense to take any chances in this town. He packed up his backpack and Blanche’s bag and slung them as a shoulder as the room was vacated. 

But though Adam pretended to be wholly engrossed in packing and ushering the vomiting remaining students out the door, the Hunter kept an eye on Professor Beck. If Morgan was what Adam thought she was, or some other rarer variety of undead, then she’d have to be closely observed when around the wounded students. 

If she slipped up? Well with those gnarly injuries it’d be pretty plausible that a beloved literature professor perished in the hospital complication. There’d be a whole weepy story in the student paper and everything. 

With Blanche safely cradled in Morgan’s arms, Margot let go of the girl's hand. She sensed that Blanche was in safe hands with the professor. As everyone began to exit, Margot took a second to gather herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but she was not in any mood to find out right now. Using her one good arm, she hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. There was no way she was leaving her laptop behind. How else was she going to figure all of this out? 

The room was empty now, the rest of the class being ushered out by Morgan and Adam. Margot stood in the doorway for a few moments, admiring the destruction, before following the rest of the group out into the hall and presumably to the hospital. 

Constance screamed silently, reaching within her soul for something to sew herself back together again. The world broke into starlight flashes, too bright and formless to mean anything. Her mind blazed. Was she dying again? Was she going back to the purgatory before this new world? To hell? She wondered the same every time she was struck and dissipated. The magic of death was strange to her and she did not know when it would be ripped away as suddenly as it had been ripped into her. When the winds of fear that had scattered her to the wilds fell and the world was still once more, she could see the room where she had shattered it, and within, puddles of salt laid to tell her how much she did not belong and was not wanted, as if she did not spend her existence with that clarity in abundance. But beyond the salt, and dripping slowly into it, was the darkness of thick blood protruding from the head of a young girl.

Constance flew to the broken classroom walls. She would reach all the way through to the girl if her body would only will itself solid again. But she was only air, and the salt had spilled too close to the wall for her to come through. She spied the dead girl only from a distance, taking in the judgement from her unblinking eyes. What have I done? She thought. What have I done?

You have crushed me, the girl’s body seemed to say. You have proven them right.

If Constance could have wept for them both she would have. What cruelty was this, that she set out to strike down only one soul and take a life as miserable and innocent as her own had once been? She sent the thought away on the wind, lest it destroy her further. 

“I will show them,” she whispered to the air. “I will show them all what true monsters are.”

[morethanaprincess-a]

@madamhatter​ said:  antephialtic (May I request one focusing only on Sonia when she's a young child? I'd love to see how she handles her (dys)functional situation then compared to now!)

Rare Words meme (still accepting starters!)

She'd been given one warning already. If she dared to get up, plodding through the hallways of Novoselic Castle in her ribbon-trimmed nightgown and slippers, Nanny Thibaut had reminded her, with her usual icy tone, that Princess Sonia would be subject to second warning. Second warnings came with a ban on chocolate for a full week. Standing in front of the shut door, the little girl shivered. It was a horrible punishment, but the third and final warning was decidedly the worst. No television for a week meant that she wouldn't be able to partake in Esper Ito's adventures until Nanny Thibaut found it fit to allow her precious time with her favorite witch.

And so she lowered her small hand back to her side. Her double doors weren't locked: they never were, save for an emergency and she was to hide in the hidden staircase deep within her closet. But her bedtime was strict and she'd eaten her dinner hours ago, had her bath, and then Nanny Thibaut had tucked her in and left. She had her own television to watch, or so Sonia had overheard her say to some of the maids. But mostly, it kept the princess on the meticulous schedule her mother had devised for her Nanny, her tutors, and the rest of the staff. A good schedule made good habits, or so she instructed Sonia for the hour or so a day she saw her mother. Often just before she needed to ready herself for dinner, Sonia would be permitted into her mother's favorite sitting room, be offered a biscuit or two, and recite precisely what she'd accomplished so far that day. If Queen Valentina was pleased, she might be given a small piece of cake.

The problem was, Queen Valentina was hardly ever pleased. It made sense, sort of, to Sonia when she knew she'd broken the rules. But even when she was sure she'd done something her mother would be proud of, completed a dance without stepping on toes or managed to sketch something that sort of resembled what it was supposed to be, she still managed to be disappointed. With that in mind, the elegantly made and arranged petit fours were an elusive treat indeed and often reserved for the rare times her mother smiled, and often Sonia couldn't even pinpoint what she'd done to make her mother happy. At least there was cake.

Otherwise, her governance was left to Nanny Thibaut, who was the only one to last longer than three months with the young princess so far. The rest, her mother said, found it fit to spoil the future queen of Novoselic when she'd be plenty spoiled in such ways in the future: fine foods and saying, reading, and watching whatever she liked. But for now, she had to learn to fill both her father and mother's shoes. Shoes that seemed pretty but painful, like every time she had to break in her new glossy dress shoes and whined precisely twice, each time, that her toes hurt and she had a blister and could she just sit down even for a few minutes before her mother shot her a warning look instead.

Especially as those shoes were now stomping through various hallways in the Castle.

If they got close enough to the doors, Sonia was sure her parents would notice the shadows of her own smaller feet. So she dashed back to the bed, kicked off her slippers, and pulled the pastel pink coverlet up to her chin. Staring up at the lace-trimmed canopy, tied to the white bedposts with satin bows, she waited.

She waited for quiet that would, to the young girl, never come. Or when it did, it left a disaster in its wake.

She bit her lip as the footsteps grew louder: her mother's thin heels and her father's dress shoes against wood and stone. They were joined with the sound of shattered glass or china, another vase in the hallway most likely that ended up being replaced with another antique brought up from storage beneath the castle. But it was the shouting that elicited a whimper from Sonia, who squeezed her eyes tight. Her bed, her room, was meticulously designed for a pretty princess with every comfort she could imagine. But surrounded by white furniture, an array of dolls and stuffed animals and other toys, and pink and mint walls, none of it could make her feel like a princess. Or at least, not the princesses she'd been made to read about: beautiful, strong, loved, and changing the world around them while obtaining a happily ever after.

Instead, among the pastels and wide-eyed teddy bears and stuffed makangos, the echo of her parents' voices dampened any possible cheer and good dreams she tried to have. Instead, like most nights, she had nightmares: ones she woke up from and was forced to encounter them in reality. And going to Nanny Thibaut only resulted in those warnings.

When she was very young, Sonia tried to listen to every single word. Even if she didn't understand it all, and especially when they were words no young lady should ever say. But now, a few years older and a few years wiser, she tried to block it out instead. But even pulling the blanket over her head wasn't enough to muffle it all. Marriage. Mistake. Leave. Force. Selfish. Tradition. Obligation. And plenty of terms that fell under the category of forbidden vocabulary. Another smashing of something and several loud bangs, shrieks and hollers and Sonia, clutching folds of the bedsheets in her hands, only thought they had to be close to the end that night. The slamming of two doors was the usual indication, as well as the scurrying feet of footmen in attempt to tidy wherever her parents had been before the morning came.

But the familiar, comforting slams of two different doors to two different bedrooms never came. And when more forbidden words and shrieks flowed through the hallways, so did Sonia's adrenaline. She threw back the pink covers and reached for her bedside table: for the torch that she felt sure no one knew about, and more importantly, a book she hoped no one knew about.

Sliding her feet into white slippers, Sonia took her treasures under one arm and with the other hand, used all of her strength to pull back the fake wardrobe. She was finally old enough to make the large piece of furniture swing on its hinges to reveal the door to her closet, with all of her dresses and blouses and skirts arranged neatly on monogrammed hangers. Nearly two dozen different pairs of shoes were placed on shelves beside them. Outerwear and sporting wear took up another section, as did her various accessories. But Sonia ignored all of those for what looked like a bare section of the wall, one that when she pushed it inward, it swung open into a dark, dusty stone stairwell. Silent and cold, it was an oasis from her pink-patterned life, with all of its anger and frowns and yelling.

And when she curled up on two steps, her legs dangling to the lower one as she shivered purely from the chill, the little girl could sigh contentedly for the first time that day. Flicking on the torch, she opened the book to the bookmarked page, with its drawing of a castle not too unlike her own. But instead of antiques soon to be broken and screaming and stiff posture, there were cobwebs, wailing, and the anticipation of meeting something not of this world but another, foreign and exciting and just a bit scary. She smiled: the hidden passages were soundproof and the adventurous heroine and the various ghosts she encountered in the Count's twisted, dark castle alike were her friends by now. Isabella, the young orphaned girl shipped off to live in a haunted castle may have been frightened beyond her wits, but Sonia, now immersed in her adventures, was not. She and the spirits who inhabited her new home alike were simply lonely. As she turned the page, the young princess' resolution that they'd find each other and create a home together only grew. After all, she had it on good authority that appearances could be deceiving, especially within the walls of a castle.