#and create an au where they all fall out of the sky cuz why not

[deathbirby]

Drops a bunch of Staroba fankid sprites on you

[moonlight-tmd]

anymore info on the au that bee is unicron's and primus' kid?

Well, like i said- Unicron and Primus were a really lovely couple once upon a time, but as all boomer marriages do- they started to fall apart. And so-

They had Bee- a little, yellow, maybe-immortal Sparkling.

They tried. Bee grew up in a weird space-with-no-time place with his 2 colossal dads. I have decided that Unicron(disguise alias 'Unis') would be an orange/black mining dump-truck while Primus(disguise alias 'Prisma') is a deep blue/grey airliner. They are roughly the same size, Primus is a bit taller. Unicron has yellow optics while Primus has white.

They got "divorced" when Bee was trying to pass academy, then he got in boot camp as a back-up plan- which failed too. So now he's on the repair crew.

The parents rarely visit their child- the child however visits the parents very often. Bee has access to space rifts and can just go home for short amounts of cybertronian time, for example; he'd disappear without a trace for like a joor(hour) then come back with some believable excuse. He'd do it anytime he wants, most likely when everyone is recharging so they don't realize he's gone.

When the parents do visit the child tho- ohohohoo it's hilarious. Imagine this- two giant, almost spaceship-sized mechs claiming this tiny minibot is their offspring. They wanna know how it happened but at the same time they don't.

Unicron is 'Papa'- he's the overprotective, fun dad. He'd spoil his precious supernova with anything he desires and more- but Primus forbids him. He does however grant Bee the crazy abilities(spiderman climbing, flexibility, vocal mimicry) and maybe a cool heat-dagger that can cut thru anything with ease- all in secret tho. But Primus knows he's been messing around behind his back and doesn't take the things he already gave to Bee cuz he sees Bee is so happy with them and doesn't want to ruin it. He likes wrecking stuff with his son, his love language is weird- where he'll be a total softie with Bee and hype him up for anything and then he'll essentially insult someone else, like call 'em a freak, but in a good way. He loves all the wicked and out-of-ordinary things, heck he was the one that created organics. (probably)

Primus is 'Sire'- he is the comfort, advice-giving dad. The one to go to when things can't be fixed with fun or gifts or when he's overwhelmed. He gave Bee the ability to sing pretty since he was already talkative. He was the one keeping Bee's frame intact- but since his Allspark has been lost and shattered, he can't do much in the physical world but watch and manouver with what little control he has left to keep him alive. Primus loves all living things, he's there to balance the chaos Unicron brings. He speaks with these deep, spiritual/riddle lines that Prowl would use to express his opinion, feelings, etc. Rarely he speaks straight-forward like Unicron, when he does tho- it's usualy when he's very pissed or doing the best he can to comfort Bee.

Since Bee is so small compared to them, Primus and Unicron take him on rides sometimes. Primus loves to have him in his cockpit and fly in the sky or even space. He has a "projector" inside so if Bee wants then he can nap in the coziest place in the universe surrounded by stars. Unicron takes Bee in his box and they ride on the prairies- bumpy and fast ride on the large space only for them. He also uses it as a makeshift slide for Bee, one tilt is all it takes. Bee loves it.

If they were to visit Bee on earth they would barely fit in the plant, They are so tall they have to bend in half to not scrape their helms on the ceiling- Unicron even more so cuz of his massive horns. (see, this is why he hates contained spaces)

Feel free to ask about different scenarios. You can find a vague idea of what happens when they visit Bee on earth here. (ignore the look descriptions cuz they are outdated now)

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

love walking to my local store to get groceries only to be struck with an idea out of nowhere like a lightning on a clear sky

I feel like some folks already had an AU idea like this in mind but I'll toss the thought bellow cuz I'll be just typing out what's been on my mind so far.

What if Radiance ONLY infected PK. Very slowly. In a possession kind of sense? And a lot of times at the beginning he wouldn't be aware of some of his actions until it clicks a bit later.

So no one knows what's going on and while PK has these unusual orders, acts of cruelty, not being himself every time he felt too tired or sleepy.

The sort of goal Radiance has is to break any trust and worship PK gets from his people but not suddenly, only in time so it really seems like it really is PK, like his people actually had a wrong picture about him all along and that this is the true wyrm they're seeing.

Imagining moments where say Xero or the five great knights eventually start to notice something is off about him but don't know what. And Xero figures out, hurries to stop PK from doing something malicious while Radiance is in control but gets killed and is framed as a traitor for attacking the king because PK can't remember why he was being attacked by him.

And it kind of goes downhill from there. WL begins to suspect and eventually they do realize it's Radiance slowly killing PK from inside and taking over.

They don't know how to stop her and the knights even try at some point. Hegemol and Ze'mer lose their lives in the fight against him (Pale Radiance??), Dryya also but while keeping WL safe from him, Isma sacrifices herself to stop trap and stop him while enwrapped in the plants along with WL's help and Ogrim by chance ends up the only surviving knight (and with a ton of guilt a).

SO THEN it's the Dreamers who take over along with WL to figure out a plan on how to stop Radiance all together and they don't have a lot of time until Isma's plant bindings grow too weak. Lurien tries to keep things within the kingdom at bay after terrible policy Radiance brought via PK and Ogrim helps him out, Monomon does intense research on how Radiance is infecting PK and how to stop it for good and Herrah is preparing silk bindings in case complete sealing is needed.

WL on the other hand worries about the future and comes to conclusion that Radiance, along with PK, must be extinguished or the whole kingdom will fall. She uses the two fragments of the kingsoul she had to create two vessels (I guess twins Ghost and Hollow) trough her seeds and THEN tries to infuse void with them. Shamans help? maybe idk XD

Uhh I figure Hornet is around because the king of Deepnest is alive so she's 100% beast and a huntress and no half wyrm stuff. She could help the soul twins.

Eventually Dreamers consult with Seer too and they find out that entering and fighting possessed PK in his dream against Radiance is needed.

I haven't thought much beyond this point but having Ghost and Hollow double teaming against fighting loose PK then entering his dream to fight Radiance got some cool image ideas in my head. He's still a wyrm despite Radiance controlling him so defeating him completely unless doing so from the inside is kind of impossible. Tough fight. Can you tell I'm all down for having PK as a boss fight? XD

It's kind of a mess of an idea because there is a lot of "but what happens to this and that then" where I have no clue tbh lol... Like I'm sure PK would try to fight Radiance for control too but she creeped on his mind ever so slowly and carefully before he noticed so it was too hard for him.

I just sort of like the idea of Radiance destroying what he built through other means, the means that mean (lol) a lot to him which was the trust and dedication he got from his people and hurt him this way while also destroying what he built with his own hands.

[your-1up-girl]

Once Upon A Dream (Hera x Ventus)

Uhhh....okay so this wasn't supposed to post until the 31st but I must have gotten the queue wrong soooooo. Have an early gift.! I dedicate this fic to the very lovely and absolutely gorgeous @sammilimyy! Why do you ask? Because it’s her birthday (I'm early sorry)!!! I was so inspired by your royal/fantasy AU with Hera and Ven that I just had to write a fanfic for it. Now this is basically inspired by a certain movie from a certain company that shall not be named out of fear they will take this down, but if you know the song then you know the movie. I hope you like it Sam (and I hope that I got it on time for your b-day) have a happy and wonderful birthday!

Word Count: 4339

Pairing: Hera (OC)/Ventus (Kingdom Heart)

Warnings: Nothing but pure fluff! I hope you have a good Dentist Sammi, cuz this thing is gonna give you cavities!!!

It was happening again. This dream she found herself in was coming to her with much more frequency now. Always in this dream, Hera would find herself wandering through a forest where the birds graced her ears with beautiful melodies and the way the light filtered through the trees was practically angelic. In this dream, she would always wear a tea-length dress so it would not drag against the soft grass and dirty the pristine fabric. Said dress was adorn in mute yellow skirt and bodice with pale pink trimming and a bow in the back. It flowed with grace as Hera continued barefoot down the unmade path. A path she has taken several times before.

At this point she would reach a clearing where the trees created a canopy of sorts and the brush and wildflowers bloomed and grew with no outside interference. Standing in the middle of this clearing was a figure. It always looked like the spirit of a young boy. Someone who Hera would guess was about her age but taller than her. He had spiky hair and clothes that looked different from that of what she had seen in the nearby villages of the kingdom. As he turned to face her, she could see the phantom of a smile on his face but never his actual features. Soft music would fill the air as they approached each other and they began to dance. The soft whips of his fingers held her waist as they twilered and glided across the grass. They could never speak to each other but they could laugh. And Hera thought his laugh was better than any orchestra in the world.

Despite never speaking to this boy and only sharing these dances, Hera had fallen for this mysterious stranger. It was a dream, but in her heart, it all felt completely real. This boy was out there. At this point, after they had their dance, the music would end and Hera would wake up to the knocks of her Lady in Waiting telling her to start the day; but this time was different. For just a brief moment, when Hera looked up and faced the spirit, she could see him. It was still in a ghost like form but his features were there and she took it all into memory. The bangs across his forehead, the goofy yet loving smile he wore, and most importantly the shadowy blue eyes that looked back at her. He had never appeared tangible to her once during these late night rendezvous but after seeing him in this apparariton form, Hera knew. She was completely in love.

Hera woke with a start in her bed. The sudden movement had scared her Meow Wow Polly and her friend Naminé who was drawing the curtains to let light enter the room.

“Your Grace, you’re awake.” The Lady in Waiting spoke once the initial shock faded. “I knocked on the door to wake you, but you didn’t respond. Then, when I came in, you had the most peaceful smile on your face that I didn’t want to wake you just yet.”

Hera held her heart as Naminé spoke, remembering the dream once more. “Did you have another dream about him?” Naminé sat on the bed next to the princess as Polly let out a small whine and cuddled back into her owner.

“Yes, I did. We danced like we always do. But this time,” Hera paused as her smile became more giddy, “This time I saw him, Naminé.”

Naminé wore a similar smile at this development, “Really! That’s wonderful Princess. What did he look like?” Hera adjusted herself on the bed so Naminé could begin taking her hair out of the braids she wore to bed.

“Well, he still looked like a ghost of sorts but his facial features were there and not just a blank face. He had the most beautiful blue eyes, Naminé.” A love-struck sigh left Hera’s lips, “It was like looking into the night sky itself.”

“You are absolutely smitten with this boy. Do you think he’s real?”

“Why else would he appear to me in this dream? And remember, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him.” Hera got out of bed and walked out onto the balcony. She leaned on the stone railing and gazed out into the horizon; her nightdress flowing in the early morning breeze. A sigh of doubt escaped her, “Naminé?”

Her Lady approached, “Yes Princess?”

“Answer me honestly, please. Do you think that boy is out there? Am I foolish to think that he could exist?”

Naminé’s eyes softened at her friend's sudden realization that this could all just be a dream. She held Hera close and spoke, “I think that in a world where magic exists and mythical creatures are a prominent part of our lives, having recurring dreams about a mysterious boy is calm by comparison.” This made Hera laugh, “I think he’s out there my Princess. If this truly is love that you feel, then you will both find your way to one another.”

After that, the day continued on as normal. Naminé helped Hera get dressed for the morning. Hera went to her lessons with Eraqus, the king. His lessons involved looking after the kingdom when she eventually came to rule. She had Keyblade training with Young Master Riku, Naminé would always remain close by during these lessons as the Lady in Waiting was very smitten with the Keyblade Master. And on this particular day, she ended her training with Master Aqua. The sworn protector of the Princess, Aqua specialized in magic and was well versed in wielding a Keyblade. She would teach Hera about combining magic into her basic attacks. However, Aqua took notice that Hera was not as focused as usual.

“Is there something bothering you Hera?”

“Huh? No Master Aqua, what makes you say that?” Their keyblades dissipated into the air signalling that they were done for the evening.

“It’s just that you haven’t been as focused as you should be during your lessons. And it’s not just with me, the King has noticed you’ve been more aloof with your teachings. Merlin has taken notice as well and so has Riku.” Hera hung her head in shame, should she tell Aqua about the dreams and the young boy? No, surely she would think the Princess crazy for looking into something like dreams. And falling in love with an apparition whom you don’t even know the name of would get her a lecture from the King. Hera couldn’t come up with a response quick enough but Aqua took the silence as something different. “You seem so worn out. Maybe you haven’t been getting enough sleep?”

At that, Hera’s head shot up, “Yes! Yes Master Aqua, that’s exactly it!” The sudden change in demeanor startled the blue haired Master from her train of thought. “I’m just so tired as of late Master Aqua. I think it would be best if I went off to bed now even. I had my dinner sometime before training so I’m not hungry.” Aqua blinked a few times. Hera seemed...excited to go to bed? It was an odd development in her attitude for sure but it seemed to be an improvement to what it was before so Aqua let it slide for now.

“Of course Your Grace, I’ll send for Naminé to meet you in your chambers to assist you for the night. Sweet dreams Princess Hera.” It was hard for the young girl to contain her excitement and Aqua could have sworn she heard a whispered, They will be as Hera passed.

Naminé carefully brushed Hera’s hair in the large bed of the royal chambers. Both girls wore their nightgowns and were discussing the events of the day. Polly sat comfortably in Hera’s lap, listening just as intently as if she were to join the conversation at any moment.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were paying extra attention to Master Riku’s lessons today.” Hera jested with her best friend; a smirk proudly displayed on her face.

“At least one of us was.”

“Hey! Naminé!” The Princess turned to push the blonde girl as they both laughed in the empty, fire lit room. “He likes you, you know.”

“Oh please, I’m just a maid, he wouldn't like me.”

Hera thought about this for a moment as Naminé worked an intricate updo into the Princess's hair for the night. She could tell her friend was discouraged by this separation of class so she tried to lighten the mood, “If he rejects you, I’ll have him beheaded.” Naminé nearly choked on her own saliva and snorted out a laugh. Having accomplished her mission in making her friend laugh, Hera joined as well.

“As kind as that is, please Hera, don’t kill anyone on my behalf.” Naminé was grateful for the joke and Hera enjoyed the lack of formalities with her best friend. The conversation continued in this matter but before Naminé got up for the night, Hera asked her a question.

“You want me to draw you a picture?”

“Yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask?” Naminé, not wanting to refuse her friend or the Princess, took a piece of parchment from the desk, some graphite, and a flat board to give her some stability and joined Hera back on the bed.

“Alright Hera, what is your request?”

“I want you to draw the boy from my dreams.” Big, pleading blue eyes met confused blue ones as Naminé took in what Hera asked.

“I-Your Grace-Hera, you know that I don’t know what he looks like, yes?”

“Oh, I know. That’s why, you’re going to sit next to me and I’m going to watch you draw as I describe him to you.” Hera grabbed the pillow next to her and made room for her friend and tapped the spot. A small smile adorned the Lady’s face as she made herself comfortable and ready for the long night ahead of her.

~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of the Kingdom, some yards away from the borders, a young farm boy sat upon the roof of his home looking at the horizon as the sky changed from warm tones to cool blues and the stars greeted him for the night. He came to look out into the sky when he needed to clear his head. And after having a busy day of training, fram work, and running errands, Ventus was in need of a small break. Not to mention that this moment alone gave him some time to think about the spirit girl he saw in his dreams. At first, Ventus just blew it off. Strange dreams happen all the time, take ‘em with a grain of salt. But then, she kept coming back, the same girl, in the same forest, with the same dress, and the same beautiful smile. God that smile. It was barely noticeable with the form that she took in his dreams but Ven was in love with it nonetheless.

He chuckled to himself. There I go again, Terra would have a fit if he could hear me. Falling in love with a forest spirit just because she danced with you in a recurring dream was ridiculous. Right? Ventus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, groaning when he had to pick more sticks out from when he fell herding the animals earlier. That girl made sleeping more exciting yet also somewhat frightening. Why did he see her all the time? Was she some sort of nymph? Was she even real? Would she love him back? And, why did he feel such disappointment if the answer was no? He didn’t even know this girl, and yet? Ventus put his hand over where his heart would be and gripped that part of his shirt. This girl had his heart and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Ven? Ventus? Where are you?” Terra stepped out of the house to call for the young boy. It made Ven laugh just a bit. No matter how many times Ventus escaped to this spot, Terra never thought to check there. “Come on Ven, you’ll never get to be a royal guard if you don’t get a good night’s sleep!”

“And you will never be a detective if you don’t think to check in the obvious spots for the suspect.” Terra turned to see that Ventus was in fact, on the roof. They both shared a laugh and Ven made his way down. “If you keep yelling then you’ll wake the Tama Sheep and the Electricorn.” They both made it back inside the house and Ventus sat with a warm tea Terra had made. The young blond sat and stared at the tea with a look that was both focused and unfocused all at once.

“Hey Terra, do you believe in love at first sight?”

The brunette sat across from the boy and pondered the question, “I think it’s possible. I think that if someone really is the one then you’ll just know.”

“Hmm.”

“You thinking about your dreams again?”

“Yeah. It’s always with the same girl. She comes to that forest, doesn’t say a single thing to me, just laughs, and we dance. They’re getting more frequent and-” Ventus paused a small smile creeping onto his face.

“And?” With raised eyebrows, Terra waited for a response.

“And...I saw her face.” Ven couldn’t hide the smile or blush at this point and Terra’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be his response. “It was all ghosty and weird like the rest of her but I could see her eyes and the way they had so much life to them. I saw her and I just fell for her, Terra. Even more than I already am in love with her.”

“Does she look like anyone you know? Maybe it’s someone from the marketplace?”

“No, her clothes look different from that of the marketplace or even from the nearby towns. I could be wrong but they kinda look like a type of nobility.”

“Wow, look at you; dreaming about a Duchess.” It never crossed either of their minds as they drank the tea that the mysterious girl could have been a princess. Terra listened more to Ven’s recounting of dreams as it got a bit later. An hour had passed and the tea was all gone and both boys sat at the table trying to figure out what to do about the spirit girl.

“I think you should go talk to a woman who goes by Fairy Godmother. No one knows her real name but she is really good at figuring out people’s dreams. She lives on the far side of Traverse Town near the kingdom borders.” Ven listened closely. “If anyone can help you out, it’s her.” It was discussed that Ventus would take one of the Yoggy Rams and travel there tomorrow morning.

By early morning light, Ventus did just that. It was a long ride but not too tedious. Around mid-afternoon Ventus arrived at Traverse Town and began asking for this Fairy Godmother. Some people lead him to the back of the town where, in the middle of a water well, there was a house that was similar to that of a doll’s but less childish. Ventus carefully walked over the rocks with his Yoggy Ram to the front door and gave it a pensive knock. He waited no more than a minute when a kind looking older woman answered the door. She smiled at him like she was his grandson and enveloped him into a hug.

“Oh hello young man, it’s good to see you. Please, please, come in. Let your Ram drink from the water around my house. I don’t mind. I just prepared some warm milk if you would like some.” Fairy Godmother brought him into the quaint living room and he lifted the milk to his lips taking a sip. It tasted faintly of vanilla and hazelnut; it made Ventus smile. “So,” Fairy Godmother sat across from him in her own plush chair, “How can I help you dear.”

“My friend told me that you could help me with my dreams?”

She lightly laughed and placed her tea cup down, “Yes, he is correct; dreams tend to be my specialty. Tell me everything my dear.” Ventus did just that. From the smiles, to the laughs, and all the joy he felt in between. When he finished, he sat anxiously for the answer. “Hmm, this sounds like a very special girl.”

“She is Fairy Godmother.”

“But you have never seen her before?”

He hung his head, “No I haven’t Fairy Godmother.”

“And yet you’re in love with her.” There was no malice in this question and she asked knowing exactly what his answer would be.

Ventus sighed, the milk long finished as he searched for his answer, “I-Fairy Godmother, I know it sounds crazy to love someone you have never met but, my heart tells me that she is someone who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have much to give. I am a stable boy who is training for a guard position and doesn't have much control of his Keyblade yet and I can be kinda naive but I love her. More than anything.”

The Fairy Godmother smiled at his answer; it had exceeded her expectations. “That’s even better than what I had expected you to say.” She stood up and went to a bookshelf and handed him a map. A map of the kingdom more specifically. “You see this area?” She pointed to an unnamed forest that was about halfway to the castle and his ranch. “There is no name on the map but people call it The Somnium Forest. It’s a magical forest where people go when they need help in their lives. They say that it feels like time stops when you enter and no one leaves the forest unsatisfied. The inside of the forest, they say, never looks the same for one person.” She held Ventus’ hands in hers, “Tomorrow young man, I want you to go to the Somnium and walk around for a bit. I’m sure it will help you with your dreams.”

Ventus wasn’t sure how a forest would help, but he was willing to try. He gave the Fairy Godmother one last hug and left with his Yoggy Ram.

Returning to the castle once more. Hera walked around the grounds with more disdain than usual. Why? She didn’t dream about the boy. His picture was carefully placed in her tea-length dress pocket (courtesy of a very late drawing session with Naminé) but having the paper wasn’t the same as seeing him in her dreams. It had only been a day and yet it was enough to put her in an upsetting mood. It was to the point that she didn’t want to hang around the castle anymore. That was how she found her way to the library asking Merlin for his map of the kingdom.

“Any place you want to go, in particular Young Hera?” He asked with his usual chipper tone.

“No, just want to explore, get out for a bit.” Hera held her head in her left hand as her right hand grazed over the different locations of the map, pointer finger out. She could go to the castle town? No, that was far too close to home. She could go to the outskirts and explore the hills that acted as the land border on the west side? No, if she was gone for too long Aqua would have a fit. Her eyes noticed a forest and that peaked her interest. “Merlin, what’s this place?”

He adjusted his glasses, “Ah! You mean The Somnium Forest? It’s a place where dreams come true as they say.” He takes a sip of his tea, “People go in there and not one person leaves upset. Forest is magical.”

“A magical forest?” Hera could use some more magic in her life. And even if it wasn’t, having the comfort of a forest setting could give her some semblance of her dream. “Thank you for your help Merlin, could I trouble you to watch Polly while I’m gone?”

“Oh it would be no trouble at all Princess! I love the little thing after all. Come along Polly, let’s see what potions I can make to help Aerith in the garden.” The Meow Wow and the Wizard walked in tandem as Hera packed the map and made her way to the stables. As much as she wanted to leave with no one’s notice, the brunette unfortunately ran into Aqua.

“Oh Princess Hera, why are you heading to the stables?”

“I just wanted to take my Pegaslick and explore for a bit. I’m not sure when I will be back so can you tell Naminé that she has the rest of the day off? Maybe tell her to have some sweets with Master Riku.”

“Princess, by yourself? Are you sure you don’t want me to join you? I could quickly-”

“No, Master Aqua, I’m fine.” Hera didn’t feel good about brushing her Master and protector off but she needed to go to this forest. It was calling her the same way her dreams did.

She got to the stables and had the royal stable boy Prompto helped ready her Pegaslick. “The reins are all good, Your Grace, enjoy your ride.”

Hera took off after a quick thank you and without a second thought. It was difficult to ride while holding the map but after an hour, Somnium Forest greeted her. She got off the Pegaslick and decided to walk the remainder, her companion close to her side.

Upon entering, the Princess did feel different. There was a strong happiness that washed over her. The fresh smell filled her nose and the grass seemed so soft that she took off her riding boots, hanging them on the saddle and continued barefoot. Eventually, Hera found herself walking deeper into the trees but she couldn’t find it in herself to worry about getting lost. A part of her knew that she wasn’t. In fact, the way the trees and flowers created a path. And the light through the trees. Her dress flowing in the soft breeze and the birds. It all made her stop to pinch herself.

“This has to be a dream.” A whisper that she barely heard left her lips but the muzzle of her Pegaslick acted as a reasurace that this was all real. With a new found fervor, Hera kept going.

On the other hand, Ventus was having the same feeling of déjà vu; only he bounded into the forest with reckless abandon. All these trees, flowers, and rocks he rode past were familiar to him. And as he approached a clearing, he knew this was the moment of truth.

They stared at each other on either side of the clearing. Both shook with excitement but neither moved out of fear of breaking this perfect scene. Ventus had to get off his Yoggy Ram but his eyes never once left hers. Carefully, they approached and once they met in the middle?

“You-are you-?” Hera couldn’t speak. So overwhelmed with joy that he stood before her as a flesh and blood person and not just some apparition. Rather she took out her drawing from the dress pocket and held it up. “It is you.”

Ventus held her face and she leaned into his touch. He wiped a tear that fell from her eye and nodded his head. “The boy from the dreams? Yes, that’s me.” Hera dropped the picture and hugged him. Her arms around his middle and his holding her head into his chest.

“I thought you weren’t real. I thought the universe was playing a horrible trick on me.”

“I promise I’m real. My name is Ventus, and I have wanted this moment ever since that first dream we had.” The dropped drawing was retrieved and put back into her pocket.

“Ventus,” What a beautiful name, “I am Hera. Your voice is so wonderful! I’m so glad to finally hear it!”

“The Princess? I’m so stupid for not recognizing you sooner. I must say Hera,” Ven brushed her hair behind her ears, “The dreams don’t do you justice. I didn’t think there could be a blue more clear than the sky, yet your eyes puts it to shame.” Hera blushed and smiled, wiping some tears from her cheeks. “There is just one thing missing to make our dream a reality.” Hera tilted her head. What more could they want? “There may not be music but, may I have this dance?”

He was right, no music played in this forest, but Hera happily accepted his hand as they moved across the grass. The laughter sounded even better than any of the nights they shared.

Off behind the trees, Aqua watched with the purest expression. Against her better judgement, she followed the young Princess to see if she was alright. Once she saw Hera with this young boy she knew everything was fine.

“So, you followed her I’m assuming?” Aqua looked and saw Terra approach as he went to the spot next to her.

“Yes, and I take it that he is yours?”

“Yeah, less ‘mine’. I’m more of his friend slash guardian.” They watched the kids dance and laugh and converse in the clearing. Terra broke their silence again, “Ventus, he’s training to be a royal guard.”

“Is he now?” Aqua smiled as she knew where this conversation was headed.

“Yes, I’m just a stable boy like him but I did undergo some training as well. I teach him everything and he is a very fast learner. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries but, perhaps the Princess could use another personal guard?”

Aqua laughed and didn't take her eyes off of the lovely couple as, "Yes, I'm sure Her Majesty would love that."

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Ohhh I loved your last Punk Jaskier and Indie Reader... how about... after show party, they casually find eachother celebrating and keep on arguing what takes them to super hot wild angry sex. And maybe she leaves in the morning and a couple of months go by and they meet again he is angry and they confess their feelings and she leaves Valdo? (Actually this might be a whole series XD, sorry)

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Punk!Jaskier x Indie!ReaderWord Count: 1,556Rating: ETaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle a/n: Hey loverly – thank you so much for the prompt! I love that you guys are digging the Punk!AU that Joz and I have created! I tweaked the end of this request a bit because canonically Jaskier is with Reader BUT I did give you angry smut and Feelings and Valdo’s Origin Story(ish) and gave Indie!Reader an HEA all of her own. I hope you like it!

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” Jaskier spat the words as he thrust into you, one hand gripping a bared breast and the other holding your hips, guiding it down onto him.

“You’re such a pretentious fucking asshole,” you snarled back, seizing a handful of chestnut hair and using it to pull Jaskier’s head to the side, exposing the thick expanse of his neck that you sucked and kissed and moaned into as he fucked you harder.

“Always have to have the last word don’t you?” he groaned, “I’m going to fuck the sass out of you.”

You laughed and clenched tighter around him as he sped up, gripping his broad shoulders for support, trying hard to force out words but only guttural moans are driven through you.

This wasn’t what you had anticipated when you ran into Jaskier in the parking lot. Vicious Mockery and Feather Fall had both performed at a show that went wildly better than either of them could have anticipated. It went so well they nearly didn’t badger each other as they had their separate after show parties at the dive bar just off the highway. You were usually the cooler headed one of the group but when Jaskier made some snide little comment about enjoying this moment cuz the next time they’d just be an opening act for his band, you hadn’t been able to bite back the words. You called him a prick and a mediocre lyricist. He’d retaliated just as swiftly, throwing in your face that Aevryn had chosen Vicious Mockery over them. You’d told him his singing was like a fillingless pie, not entirely sure that made sense in your half-drunk state but it had struck a nerve. He’d pulled you in for a bruising kiss that you eagerly returned and now here you were, having angry sex in the back of his two door car that you’d tried to insult by comparing it to a clown car but he’d ripped your panties off by then and pushed you into the backseat with his fingers already seeking your wet warmth.

“You know the worst thing about you?” Jaskier asked, gripping your chin and forcing your eyes to his, the usually serene blue stormy with anger and lust.

“What? That I’m better than you? That you want me even though you hate yourself for it?” you challenged, gasping the words out as you felt yourself nearing release.

“That you’re actually really fucking talented but you waste it on that shit band and for what? Valdo’s money? You could do so much more on your own and you fucking know it.”

You opened your mouth to fight back but your orgasm caught you off guard and all you could do was moan and thrash against him while he kept his relentless pace until he came as well, the two of you left panting and spent in the backseat as the adrenaline slowly left your systems. You pulled on your panties and righted your shirt, getting yourself together before climbing over Jaskier to get out of the car. He gripped you for a moment and you shot him a dark look, fuming over his last words.

“Y/N,” he said, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Fuck you,” you bit out and then crawled out of the car, marching to the tour bus Valdo’s father had bought you, trying to swallow the bile that rose in your throat.

—–

You nervously tapped your fingers against the porcelain mug, staring at the pretty leaf design the barista had poured into your latte. You didn’t know if Jaskier would show. When you’d DM’d  him, four months after your horribly ill-advised but not at all regretted hate fueled quickie in the back of his car and two months after it was announced that you were leaving Feather Fall, you’d expected him to back out. The only thing that had really tied you two together was your mutual disdain for each other’s bands and now that you didn’t have the band there was really nothing left. At least that’s what you told yourself to expect, trying hard not to get your hopes up as you heard the little jingle of the door and looked up to see if this time it was Jaskier.

He looked the same as always. Maybe a little more tan, a souvenir from his recent tour through California, but he was still wearing his signature jeans and button up (well, half-buttoned up). He had his glasses on today, a little reminder to himself that he didn’t have to be On and could focus on what he came here to do. He smiled when he saw you and you were relieved to see it was a genuine one that lit up the clear, sky blue eyes. You thought back to the last time you’d seen them and just as quickly put the thought out of your head. You weren’t here for that today. You were here to make amends.

He ordered something at the counter and then walked over to you. You did the awkward dance of shake hands or hug or kiss cheek and settled on a hug, laughing slightly at the absurdity of it.

“How have you been?” Jaskier asked, settling into his seat.

“Good! Doing pretty ok, actually. I’ve got an agent and I’m working on a demo right now,” you said, clutching the mug in front of you for comfort. Jaskier’s drink arrived and you rolled your eyes. Of course it was a London Fog.

“That’s brilliant! Is that why you’re in LA?” he asked. You nodded, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah! I don’t go home much. It’s still a bit… awkward,” you said.

“Valdo still pissed?” Jaskier asked, as though he hadn’t seen all of the interviews or the soundbites where Valdo was very clear about how he felt about you. He’d made a big deal about not letting the band be “abandoned” and that it was going to be best for the group overall. You thought you’d be hurt by it but you knew you’d hurt him when you chose to leave. First Aevryn and now you. He was losing his little group and sure, that wouldn’t happen as often if he didn’t push everyone away or act insufferable, but you knew there was a lot to unpack there and wished him and whatever therapist he landed in front of well with that.

“I’m really happy you reached out. I’ve been thinking about you,” Jaskier said.

“Jaskier I know the way we left things was… a bit intense,” you began. He snorted and tried to hide it by taking a drink but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“I needed you to know the truth. I don’t hate you. There were times I did and honestly you made it so damn fun to mess with you. But you are talented. And Vicious Mockery is a good band. And you’re right, most of what we accomplished we did through Valdo’s dad. And I was fine with that for a long time but… it just wasn’t fun anymore, you know? There was more fighting, especially after Aev left. I think we took for granted just how much of a buffer she was between Valdo and the rest of us. And I’m not trying to just pin it on Valdo. I think as a group we just brought out the worst in each other. But I don’t want to do that anymore. And that’s why I left. That and what you said,” you took another drink and Jaskier waited patiently for you to look back up at him and continue talking.

“I can do more on my own. Maybe not more famous or more money, but I can do more that I’m proud of and that I want to do. And I didn’t want to think about it but you helped me face it. So… I wanted to say thank you for that. And set the record straight,” you finished. He smiled at you, a soft, warm smile that made you feel a bit braver. He reached forward and placed his hand on yours.

“I’m really happy for you, Y/N,” he said, “And I said some shit I didn’t mean too. Well, I meant it at the time, but when I wasn’t half-pissed I didn’t as much. You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks. You too. I mean I’m not going to be going around to any Vicious Mockery concerts or buying merch, I have a shred of loyalty left in me after all. But you don’t need my well wishes. You’re already killing it and I know you’ve got what it takes for the long run,” you said.

“From your mouth to our agent’s ears,” Jaskier joked.

The pair of you sat for a bit longer, joking and sharing stories. He was headed to Washington next and you told him you had a feeling something good was waiting there for him. You would’ve said it about anyplace he was going but he still beamed at the words, ever eager to find an adventure on the horizon. When you hugged goodbye you exchanged numbers that you knew you’d probably never use but still liked having and you headed back to your car, heading out to find your own next adventure.

[ruiyuki-archives]

Star Tear AU - Momo ver.

This is an AU I wrote on the todomomo discord server eons ago. Anything posted to this blog will be transcripts of old original work and not really edited, save for formatting. I have no guarantees if I will ever finish these AUs either so these will only be kept as an archive.

Original transcript posted to tdmm discord: Aug 2020

Momo ver. Alternate timeline: Todo ver. Part 1 || Todo ver. Part 2 || Todo ver. Part 3

ALRIGHT YALL NEW TROPE ALERT ➡ STAR TEAR DISEASE

Basically the cousin of Hanahaki Disease. Unrequited love causes a person to cry star tears accompanied by the sound of twinkling and if the feelings are not returned said person goes colour blind

And I just !!!!

tdmm AU where Momo gets star tear disease and the first time she cries in front of Todo after the exam with Aizawa she cries star tears???

And she doesn’t know what it means and neither does Todo but maybe Aizawa does and recognizes what it means but idk

So Momo goes on this whole literary quest to research what it means. And Todo volunteers to help bc umm?? Even the pressure point in her foot doesnt stop this phenomenon so he wants to figure it out too

And along the way they dig through the UA library on study dates and dig through the bookstores and dig through the interwebs together

Spending more and more time together, Momo starts to realize she’s feeling something. that is until one night she finds it on the web what star tears mean

Its her unrequited love for Todoroki

And her realizing this just makes it w or s e

Bc the consequence of not having her feelings returned means she goes colour blind

Or you know what, im just gonna alter it and make it more angst. She goes fully blind, ya lets do that.

SO MOMO

Poor bby is grappling with this realization and coming to terms with it all on her own; recognizing that if she doesnt let Todo know after all this time spent together she’s come to love him....... she'll go blind

But ofc its Momo... poor bby selfless Momo....

Her feelings and her own and not a responsibility of Todo to like her back and cure her of this disease so there is NO WAY she’s gonna burden him with that

Plus they’re both too busy tryna be heroes and shouldn’t have this as a distraction

So ofc Momo's not gonna tell Todo

And she cries and cries even more star tears that twinkle in fill her room in the dark like galaxies in the sky.

Its really beautiful.

She'll accept that she'll go blind never to see the face of her loved ones again. Her parents. Her friends....... Todoroki.

And that potentially she might have to give up her dream of being a hero if the blindness compromises it.

But she'll accept that.

The next day she wakes up and cant see a colour

And slowly it begins.......

She loses green first. Its hard to distinguish green from yellow

Then yellow goes

Then orange

Then one by one colour fades over weeks and weeks

Ofc shes not telling anyone.

She fakes it in class, during hero training, during her internship

That when Ochako and Hagakure asks "isnt the colour dress cute?" holding up a lovely chartreus and gold dress, she lies and says yes even though she sees gray

Which breaks her even more

And so she cries alone at night some more star tears

And it keeps going

All the while Todo noticing from beside his desk......

something is off...

But he doesnt ask her. Not yet.

Because after weeks of spending time with her researching, he believes they’re close enough that she'll share with him what’s going on

He didnt question it when she told him "its ok Todoroki san, we can stop researching"

"Did you figure it out?"

"Yes. Its nothing to be concerned about anymore"

He doesnt question it when he notices her in the morning at breakfast,,, the little speckles of star dust glimmering at the corner of her eyes

And he doesnt question himself either when he starts to think the twinkling tears she cries when she thinks she is alone,, makes her look really beautiful

Its those some odd moments when he passes the classrooms on the way back to the dorms at sunset that he sees her alone by the window,, looking out,, as the sun paints the sky reds pinks yellows and oranges,,, that she stares out and star tears fall from her eyes, twinkling in the setting light

And he thinks to himself that she is really beautiful,, a shadow against the setting sun

So he watches and thinks some more

That shes beautiful even without the sunset. Beautiful in class answering the hardest question. Beautiful in battle when her tactics win over her opponent. Beautiful studying when he notices her little motions when shes concentrating.

But while Todo thinks that to himself, Momo cries. Little star tears in her eyes.

She cant see the sunset anymore.

.

.

.

He doesnt think its serious when she tells him to disregard the matter

But when he happens to run into her when visiting his mom at the hospital, and she’s on her way out from the optometry & ophthamology department to get this whole eye thing checked out, thats when he realizes

Oh. This is serious.

And he starts trying to get her to talk but she’s being all avoidy and tight lipped

Cuz from Momo’s doctors’ appointment, the doc told her there’s no cure unless she gets over the feelings herself or her feelings are returned

And really now, she still thinks its her burden to bare not his

So logically the only thing she thinks she can do to slow down the blindness from the tears is to shut down her feelings for him. Put them in a box. And become cold.

Todoroki hates that.

That she’s being avoidant and cold when he knows something is wrong and wants to help her but she is being so not Momo anymore

He wants the kind, loving, selfless, pure hearted, strong Momo he's grown to learn and respect and know back

And that’s when he realizes he really cares for her

Not just admiring her beauty. Or respecting her battle instincts and leadership

That he realizes he really likes her

Perhaps even loves her.

So thats that.

Until its mission time.

Cuz its not angst until someone gets hurt and the other realizes they’ve been keeping a secret all this time sooooooooo

Smth smth UA kids vs a new baddie or minor villian or idk it could be dabi for all i want bc i put dabi in everything lmaooo

But who they’re fighting is not important

The important part is tdmm are on the same team

Maybe deployed as partners even

And theyre fighting back to back against some grunts

And at this point Todo is frustrated he’s not getting through to Momo just after he shook his own world realizing he likes her

And Momo's being all cold but civil and she is completely colour blind.

Theres no undoing the damage in her eyes. She can see in muted muddy tones and grayscale.

So for plot convenience lets say the villain has some kinda colour distortion quirk that mixes up the perception of colour from the true colour in a form of illusion or smth idk

So when the grunts in all black uniform end up attacking them, to Todo and Momo, one looks dressed in red, another in green, others in blues yellows purples

tdmm do pretty well fending them off until Todo notices 3 of them in blue green and purple about to attack Momo at once

And she’s ready to fend them off but doesnt notice a 4th one in red coming in for a swift sneak atttack right behind the green one

But Todo does notice

And he shouts

"YAOYOROZU THE RED ONE"

But she cant tell

And the knife lands deep in her shoulder

And Todo burns the rest to a crisp

You can imagine what the conversation is in the aftermath, when Momo has her shoulder bandaged up and Todo tending his own wounds

"Yaoyorozu.. please be honest with me. Why didnt you avoid the red one when I shouted?"

Because, he knows, that the heroine Creati he's trained along side with for so long would have been able to anticipate the grunts assault

That she would have expected a sneak attack amidst a simultaneous attack

But the fact that she didnt. Couldnt. Avoid it definitely means shes been handicapped

And Momo, upon being asked, hurt and tired from their battle finally relents

She cant lie to him any longer.

"It was because... i couldnt tell. I couldnt distinguish their colours. I havent been able to for a few weeks now.... I've..."

A star tear falls from her eyes.

"I've lost my colour vision Todoroki-san"

Tiny galaxies fall from her eyes as she finally explains to him what these tears are

And Todo is speechless as she talks, only able to hear the twinkles against her words broken against sniffles and hiccups

And when sh’es said all she knows - that this is a disease that will turn her blind, that there is no cure and it comes as a consequence of loving someone who doesnt love you back, that she doesnt want to burden the person she loves with her responsibility, that she has been trying bury her feelings to save herself ...

He finally asks: "Who is it.  Tell me who it is that you love Yaoyorozu"

.

.

.

.

"You. Its you Todoroki-san"

And his heart broke.

He pulls her into a hug,, so tight she thinks she might be crushed

And its his turn to cry against her

Because all this time she was doing this for him

"Im sorry Momo. Im so sorry. You dont have to suffer alone anymore. Because we're partners, long before I even realized it"

"Eh?"

He looks into her eyes, unwavering

"Im in love you too."

The tears that fall from her next are no long starlight.

Epilogue/trivia:

Momo loses her colour vision following the colour wheel starting with green ➡ yellow, orange, red, etc until blue is last to go

Shes most heartbroken about losing red and blue cuz those are the colours she associates with Todo (when she cant see the sunset anymore its when she realizes she lost red and that’s why she’s crying)

Since the damage of the disease cant be restored, she has to deal with greyscale vision for some years

Eventually Eri rewinds it for her once Eri can control her power

but for those some years Momo is so busy!! cuz she goes into genius mode and starts creating (and probably working with Hatsume) vision impairment accessibility tools? Yes

and bc I have an unhealthy obsession with the todofam, Natsuo probably ends up getting a case of the disease for some odd reason if he ever broke up with his gf and Todo upon hearing it is like NO GO TELL HER PLS

He’s not gonna let anyone else on the other end feel the guilt that he did for Momo

> archives masterpost

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 16 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: OKAY DUCKENZIES. This part dragged my ass. It took forever, but once again, I’m so happy with it. My schedule has been punishing. I can’t stop writing and never feel like doing anything else but I have a full time job and my relationship and all this other shit in my life and I have to sleep sometimes and I’m trying to find a balance. But I’m so happy lately? I’m so lit all the time, everyone I know IRL is like “what is UP with you” because I’m writing a book (this, this is the book) and I’m fucking beside myself, I’m so relieved about it, I’m so happy about it all the time but I’m also having a hard time disconnecting from it to plug into other things lately. Still working out how to do that. The thought Kenzie has about Duncan in the beginning of this part (”...you are exalted in my eyes and my body and my soul”) is literally a thought she had about him in another life, and she will never know that. Plume has a really fancy three-course menu that I didn’t feel like writing about at length, so I sort of chose one thing for each of them off it and skipped the rest. Here’s A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE, imo one of the best love songs of all time. The man who got upstairs at Kenzie’s work and tried to hurt her will feature again. I listened to this remix of Imogen Heap’s Headlock a lot for the sex (69 dudes) in this part (sex which I am very proud of if I may say so, I can write a goddamn sex scene y’all--THREE SEX SCENES THANKS); cuz the mood in that is VERY sex-vibe Duckenzie. Duncan’s dream that Kenzie is an angel is based on @inkedbadwolfart‘s ICONIC Michael x Mallory piece. Deep Creek Lake is real but the cabin I’m creating that belongs to the Shepherd family is of my own invention. I’ve never liked “Dunc” as a nickname for Duncan and it doesn’t really fit Duckenzie, so I came up with another nickname I like more and Kenzie will indeed call him Dunny every now and then when she’s feeling particularly affectionate from here on out. This is the top Kenzie wears in the morning and this is the skirt (which I ordered the other day, can’t wait to get it!!). This is her star necklace. These are her pointed boots which she wore to Le Diplomate as well and I have them irl and they are legit my favorite shoes I own and always make me feel sexy hence them giving Kenzie that feeling too. Here’s the short-sleeved button-down Duncan puts on in the morning; summer clothes from here on out for awhile, babes. I had to put The Chain in this part; I’m a die-hard Fleetwood Mac/Stevie Nicks fan. A reminder that the MASTERPOST wants you to reblog it and pass it around because I won’t be loading the fic up on AO3 until it’s totally finished, which...I don’t know how long that’ll take? Maybe a few more weeks, maybe a month, maybe longer. Still not entirely sure where this story is ending, I figure I’ll know when I get there. The Shepherd mansion (that is, Annette’s mansion) is some kind of cross between this mansion and this one in my mind. The chairs in the dressing room look like this. To my beloved Duckenzies: @impiorumrequies, @hi-ilovedamien, @nat-de-lioncourt, @ladywriter94, @leiwya, @icouldrun, @killcort, @starscavengers, @carousallie, the list goes on--I love you more than words can express. THANK YOU.

“I would like for you, Mackenzie, to do a few interviews with us next week.” Kenzie refocused on Duncan’s mother; her thoughts had been full of Duncan’s eyes (sky and storm) since he had gazed at her so lovingly and pushed something into her; wrapped his love around me, like a blanket made of softest gold, that’s what it felt like, and I pushed it out of me and onto Annette and then her face fell and she looked so confused and then she softened...the anger in her eyes towards me dissolved and now her eyes look the way I think they probably looked when she was a girl, a girl who wanted something else; wanted to be loved, wanted to love. A wave of affection for Duncan had crashed into Kenzie, and she couldn’t help but gaze over to him with fierce devotion; you are my Prince, most beloved to me, and you are exalted in my eyes and my body and my soul. The thought had fallen, soft as a sheer curtain, over her sight and her mind, as if it were something she’d read in a book somewhere and forgotten; and she had stared at him and flowers had bloomed in her thoughts to behold him; and the moment had extended, spread out far beyond itself, and she had felt the weight of time and the depth of his love for her again and she was lost in it for a little while.

“It’s important...that if you and Duncan are going to be...together...you understand your new responsibilities as a part of the public face of Shepherd Unlimited.” Annette spoke with a strange slowness, as if something was holding her back, and Kenzie couldn’t decide if it was the heavy energy that now hovered in the room (something that passed between Duncan and I, I don’t understand what it was, but it had some kind of power) or Annette’s own inability to say what she was truly thinking or feeling. Or her inability to accept the idea of them, truly together. Whatever the reason, Kenzie looked away from her; she found Annette terribly beautiful, but Duncan’s mother had a strange coldness that raised the hairs on Kenzie’s neck, drained the blood from her fingers. As Annette spoke, she seemed to gain momentum, falling back into her clipped cadence. “That will include making public appearances with us and coordinated communication with the press. I’m sure Duncan has mentioned this, but I expect you to come to the house tomorrow to do a fitting for the Gala. Everything has to be carefully planned, it’s the most important public event of the year for the organization. From now on, you’ll be expected to present yourself publicly with physical, verbal, and behavioral sophistication. Duncan himself has been a poor example of that lately.”

Kenzie looked back across the table to Duncan; his eyes betrayed none of his discomfort, but she felt his annoyance, drifting in dark colors: To hell with sophistication, keeping her safe is what I care about. If she isn’t happy, nothing else matters. His thoughts fell over her with fierce warmth; Kenzie felt as though she could drink them, swallow them, absorb them, feel them as though his fingers were all over her.

“Mackenzie, do you understand me?” Annette took another long drink from her wine glass, eyes hovering across the table at Kenzie.

“I...yes, Annette. I think so.”

“That article published today was an opposition to the company. I expect you to turn down editorials of that nature in the future.”

Kenzie was silent, pressing her lips together. No, I don’t think so. I’m going to write about what I feel strongly about. Or why write at all.

The waiter returned at that moment, mercifully, and Kenzie breathed a silent, internal sigh of relief. She had the distinct feeling that Annette not only did not tolerate being lied to, but that she was preternaturally skilled at sniffing out said lies; that she could pinpoint them with precision and yank them out of a person. Better to lapse into silence than to lie to her, I think. Annette ordered foie gras; Duncan ordered lobster. Kenzie looked down the menu, lost; she hadn’t even contemplated food under Annette’s steely gaze, and it seemed to be in a foreign language, suddenly.

“I think you’d love the risotto, Kenzie,” Duncan said to her gently. She nodded to him gratefully and said “I’ll have that.” Thanks baby. Affection washed over her again and he gave her a little smile. Baby, you’re doing so good. Just a little bit longer and we’ll be done. Soon, we can escape. Annette ordered another bottle of wine; the one she’d had on the table when they’d come in was already half empty. Duncan’s mother tipped it carefully into Kenzie’s wine glass, filling it about a third of the way, and pushed the stem closer to Kenzie, pointedly. Then, she poured another glass for Duncan.

“To the continued success of Shepherd Unlimited and our dynasty.” Annette raised her glass and nodded to both of them with stern expectation. Duncan raised his and nodded at Kenzie a little; she brought hers up with a timid hand and Annette clinked against it with a sharp tap. Kenzie drank a small sip of the wine; hope it isn’t poisoned, she thought wildly, watching Annette drink from her glass again, eyes skirting over to Duncan taking a deep gulp of his, as if he were terribly thirsty and it was water. Duncan looks so beautiful. But he always does. His hair fell over his forehead, perfect waves down the sides, falling behind his ears. The velvet blazer gave him an almost royal appearance; like his throne was sitting in some vast chamber somewhere, waiting for him. His straight nose and full lips were like a statue carved by a master sculptor; he seemed too lovely to her to be real, I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking that, feeling that way, like he’d been molded from the first human clay and every piece of come after had been slightly less. He pressed one long hand against the side of the stubble at his cheek; I want to bury my fingers in that stubble, I want to breathe it deeply into my senses, impossibly intense blue eyes carefully switching between the two women sitting in front of him, warily at Annette, with aching affection at Kenzie, then back again.

“I am capable of putting my differences with Madeline aside if you can conduct yourself appropriately,” Annette spoke again. Her gaze slid between her son and Kenzie; she seemed to regard their obvious adoration with a mixture of disdain and incredulousness; she can see how much he loves me, and it’s upsetting her, Kenzie thought. Well, Annette, get fucking used to it.

“Do you think you can do that?”

Annette stared at her, hands around her wine glass, head cocked slightly, her eyes like dark pools. This woman is like a very dark well, Kenzie thought. And I don’t know how far down the bottom of the well is. I think it might be a very long well, and very, very dark. But she loves Duncan. I can tell. I don’t know if the love is the kind of love I know, the kind I feel for those I care for; her love is different, I think. But I do think, in his case, it’s real love, in her fashion.

“I’ll do my best, Annette.”

“Your best must be as close to perfect as you can possibly make it, dear. Or else you will not last long in our world. Steel your mind, Mackenzie. You no longer have the luxury of living anonymously. To be part of this family, however long that may be, you accept the scrutiny and criticism of the nation.”

Kenzie bit her lip, clutching her hands together in her lap. “I can handle it.”

Duncan’s eyes flickered over her, bright with intensely warm emotion. So brave, so brave, she heard him think. ....your strength around you like gold...oh, Kenzie��

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Annette replied, and Duncan said, immediately, “She can, Mom. She’s one of the bravest people I’ve ever known. She’s amazing.”

“You sound drunk already, Duncan,” Annette rolled her eyes, her expression annoyed.

“Today someone got up into her office and tried to attack her,” Duncan said, his tone going dark as he looked at his mother. “They said something about the Shepherds taking everything away from them, so they were going to take something away from the Shepherds. I hired her a bodyguard yesterday, thank god--he’s the only reason she wasn’t injured. Being thrown into our world can’t be easy, and yet she was the one who insisted we still come to dinner tonight, Mom. I was contemplating cancelling on you. Already Kenzie has proven she is more than capable of navigating this world and has the resolve it takes to weather whatever comes her way. And she deserves your respect.”

Annette was silent and looked down; there was a flicker over her features; “I didn’t know about that,” she said, carefully. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Mackenzie.”

“I’m okay,” Kenzie said, fighting to keep the trembling edge she felt out of her voice. The truth was she didn’t feel very okay at all; the incident at One Franklin Square had terrified her and Kenzie longed for nothing more than the dinner to be over and to be held in Duncan’s arms in the safety and quiet of their bed with the rain falling against the window. Sweet Fates, hurry us on to that place, through this storm, through this rain, through this difficulty, she thought, looking into his eyes, fighting the bubbling emotion that threatened her again, feeling crushed and laid bare by the beauty of his face and the love in his eyes. She wanted to tell him what had happened in her own words with her own mouth and then she wanted him to press his mouth with aching need into her body and tangle the black sheets into symbols of their passion and their love and their devotion and press his fingers into her mouth and against her throat and down between her legs, where they belong my love, where you belong, pressed against me. I want to be alone with you my love and I don’t want to be here anymore. But Kenzie knew that this was part of the test; the test of knowing if she could indeed suffer a lifetime of Annette Shepherd; if she could put her love before her exhaustion and help Duncan in this way. And so she said again, “I’m okay. I would do anything for Duncan. I will do anything.”

“God, but you do remind me of Madeline.” Annette shook her head, as if to clear away her disorientation.

Two waiters came in then with their dinner; Kenzie’s risotto was delicious, savory and sweet, and she sent warm, grateful thoughts across the table toward Duncan again; he smiled at her and she was struck with another ache to hold him, to touch him; she watched his fingers stretch out at the side of his salad fork, towards her; he tapped them a little every now and then, and she could feel his impatience, his restlessness, his aching need for her. She wondered if Annette garnered strange delight from keeping them apart like this, even across a table; Duncan’s mother seemed like the kind of person who never did anything on accident, everything, every movement and inflection and gesture, ever-calculated. She’s trying to exert her will over him, Kenzie thought. Show him that she still owns him even though he belongs to me now and his desires have changed and she wants to pretend like she can’t see it but she can and that’s what made her so disoriented. She didn’t expect to see love in his eyes when he looks at me, because she hasn’t seen it there before, not like this. But she saw it. And now she knows. Now, she can’t pretend it isn’t real, or that he’s infatuated, or what he feels is only lust. Even Annette can’t deny that Duncan Shepherd fucking loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

Kenzie couldn’t help it; she smiled at Annette, and Annette returned it, but very small, a smile that did not extend to her eyes. You think you’re going to be able to control me now, Kenzie thought. But you won’t be able to. Duncan is going to change your company. He’s going to change everything, and I’m going to help him. We’re going to take all of Shepherd Unlimited and we’re going to give its riches to people who need them and we’re going to create beautiful things and we’re going to help people and you won’t be able to stop us. I know it, deep in my bones. Kenzie turned her eyes to Duncan and he was watching her with intense concentration, a morsel of lobster paused in his fork in midair, halfway to his mouth; as if he had heard everything she’d been thinking and was struck with it, as if her could see her drawing him a map that was invisible to Annette even though she was sitting directly in front of them, and the luminous smile in his eyes filled her with a depth of glowing energy that felt like sunlight on her skin. Yes baby. Yes, we will.

-------

It was well past 10 when Annette finally released them; by then, Kenzie felt as though her body was in physical pain, such was the depth of her desire for Duncan to hold her. I thought yesterday had been long, she thought, but today was almost unbearable. Annette had insisted on discussing endless details of the most recent episode of Duncan’s show, and he answered her in clipped, short sentences. Every now and then she shot Kenzie a suspicious look and seemed to change the way she was about to say something; she thinks she can’t trust me, and she’s not necessarily wrong, Kenzie thought. Finally, Duncan had come around the table and helped her out of the seat on Annette’s left side; relief flooded her at the warm, smooth feeling of his large hand grasping around her fingers; “It’s time for us to go, Kenzie had a very long day today, Mom.” “I expect you at noon sharp, Mackenzie,” Annette had said, her eyes flashing at Kenzie with a dismissive shimmer; Duncan leaned forward and she inclined a sharp cheekbone for him to kiss. Then, Duncan pulled Kenzie out of the room with a pointed determination, leaving his mother there to her own devices; Kenzie followed behind him, dizziness washing over her in a wave as they stepped out of the cocoon of the secluded room and back into the warmer light of the restaurant, and then out to the polished foyer. She could hear the rain falling against the windows; Duncan had pulled out his phone with his other hand and was texting Samuel, then he looked at her with a terrible softness (those eyes, my love, those blue eyes) and tucked the phone back into the inner pocket of his velvet blazer, his fingers coming up to her cheek, their warmth sending a flutter of sensation down her skin.

“Baby, you did so fucking good,” he whispered down to her mouth, and Kenzie sighed at the sound of his voice, her body flooding with the relief of his touch. “God, I wanted to touch you so much, that was agony. You are so brave and I’m so proud of you, Kenzie--”

“I wanted to touch you too, baby, Duncan, I wanted to so much--” Kenzie pulled him down into her roughly by the lapels of his velvet jacket, his full lips crashing against hers with a deep heat, her hands going into his hair, those waves like fading autumn and Duncan’s hands fell down to the small of her back, pressing her tightly into him, the desperation in his touch filling her with coiled hunger, her hips grinding against his thighs. The doorman and the people at the reception desk nearby carefully ignored them; Kenzie felt grateful towards them. Four hours with Annette Shepherd unable to touch each other and I think we’ve earned this. Duncan’s phone sounded; “Come on, Samuel’s here,” he breathed into her and his breath was sweet with wine and the chocolate mousse they’d had for dessert and Kenzie heard the tiny moan that escaped from her lips as he pulled away from her, such was her need for him. “Come on baby,” Duncan said again, pulling her gently through the door, “let’s go home.”

In the shadowed backseat of the BMW Kenzie folded close against him, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked under her; Duncan’s arm was around her and her head was in the crook of his chest, her face pressed into his smooth shirt, and Duncan was looking down at his phone; emails. “I messaged Ben today,” he murmured to her, softly, tucking his phone away, as Etta James floated towards them from the stereo again (I want a Sunday kind of love...a love to last past Saturday night...and I’d like to know...it’s more than love at first sight...), “I want you to sit in on the interview, baby, okay?” Kenzie smiled despite how tired she felt; “I’m sure Ben will love that.” “It doesn’t matter what he thinks of it, because I’m not doing it if you aren’t there.” Kenzie nodded; she looked at Duncan in the dappled color of the neon lights they passed and was struck again by how beautiful he was; feeling shy suddenly, her affection tumbling out of her, unable to be contained: “Duncan, you look so handsome right now.” He turned his head to her, smiling, and she saw the shyness in it; in him. “And you look so lovely, baby.” That he felt shy before her, too, made her heart clench. Kenzie pulled her phone out of the little clutch on the seat beside her; she opened the Instagram app on her phone as Duncan said “Baby, what are you doing...”

“I think it’s time we took a selfie together, baby,” she said, matter-of-factly. Kenzie lifted the phone above them and reversed the camera so it faced them; she looked up into it, her eyes bright and wide under her dark eyeshadow and carefully applied mascara, her head still tucked under Duncan’s arm, and he inclined his head down to her, pressing his nose gently against her hair, closing his eyes. Kenzie snapped a picture; Samuel had been driving through the glow of downtown still, and the lights had fallen over them in pink, blue and gold; over Duncan’s cheek and Kenzie’s forehead, giving the picture a haunting luminescence. Kenzie brought the picture up to her eyes--it stopped her heart, the peaceful expression on his profile, the glittering aspect of her gaze, the lights falling over them.

“We look so good together, baby--” Duncan whispered into her ear, and his lips fell into the small space below; Kenzie gasping at the sweetness of the sensation, “--you are so fucking beautiful.” Kenzie sighed into his lips, pressing closer to him as she typed: The longest day, the greatest love. She hit Share with a satisfied smile. “You always look fucking beautiful,” she argued, her voice soft. “No, you fucking do,” Duncan murmured as his lips fell down her neck, his fingers threading through her hair. “You do angel, you do…”

Kenzie was aching for him, her body pulsing with need, but she hadn’t really told him what had happened that day, and she longed to; the burden of it was pressing into her heart, and she felt as though the weight of it was crushing her. “Baby, I...wanted to tell you what happened today.” Duncan lifted his head up immediately, leaning back to look at her, his face serious. He looked over her shoulder; “We���re home, baby,” he said, and Kenzie glanced behind her to see Samuel had pulled up to the high-rise. Finally. Samuel handed the roses to Duncan carefully as they got out of the car; there were no paps anywhere, and the rain was stopping again, the thunder moving off far into the distance and a barely-there drizzle fading away, the sky finally clear. The moon had returned though it was again barely a sliver in the sky; it hung there over the building as Kenzie looked up at it, an omen of the new cycle that had begun in earnest now; my new life has begun, and my life of anonymity is gone, she thought, the echo of Annette’s words falling down. Duncan carried the flowers carefully beside her as they moved upstairs; Anchaly gave him a nod, then looked at Kenzie with a smile; “you look lovely, Miss Stone, I trust whatever was distressing you earlier has been taken care of,” and Kenzie smiled back at him, nodding. Anchaly had a new book now; it was The Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion. “Yes, I’m better now, thanks, Anchaly.”

In the elevator they stared at each other, Duncan’s hands full of roses, Kenzie’s hand reaching out to tuck around his arm. “Before the man got upstairs, there had been some other people who had tried to get up, reporters from a magazine or something, I’m not really sure,” she started. “But the security downstairs caught them before they got to the elevators. The other guy was faster, I guess, and he didn’t really look like paparazzi--I don’t think he was.” The elevator slid open quietly and Kenzie used her key to open the penthouse door; Duncan continued to listen to her, quietly, as he opened the cupboard under the sink and brought out a Waterford vase for her roses, which had begun to wilt a little; fitting, because that’s how I feel too, Kenzie thought. Kenzie took the vase gently from his arms and brought it over to the coffee table alongside the low leather couch; the roses immediately threw their brilliant color against the juxtaposition of light and shadows there, one of the reading lamps switched on by the housekeepers. Kenzie looked down at them, emotion washing over her again. Then she turned to him and folded herself into him and Duncan kissed her hair and closed his eyes. “He had really wild eyes, I remember that. Like he was lost. But Harris had just gone to the bathroom...he was only away from me for a minute, I swear. The man comes up to my desk and he’s in a big overcoat and shaggy hair and he smelled...strange, sort of like gasoline. He grabbed my wrist with this terrible grip--” at that Kenzie looked down at her wrist and for the first time that day noticed a small purplish bruise that had begun to form there, Duncan reaching down delicately to examine it, bringing his lips down to her skin; “and he hisses into my face, looking right into my eyes. He said “There you are. I saw you on the videos. The Shepherds took everything away from me, so now I’m gonna take something away from the Shepherds.””

“God, baby.”

“He starts dragging me and Precious sees him but she’s too far away, she’s down at the other side of the office, and he’s so strong it feels like he’s going to snap my wrist and rip my hand out of my arm and I’m trying to get out of it but--but he’s just too fucking strong.” Kenzie felt tears in the back of her throat; she turned, pushing her hair to the side. “Unzip me, baby,” she said, and felt Duncan’s warm, long fingers between her shoulders, gently pulling the zipper down, his face pressing into her hair. Kenzie reached for his hand and then she pulled him, slowly, softly, into their bedroom (ours) and pushed the dress off her shoulders, stepping out of it, her hands coming up behind her to unclasp her bra and she could feel Duncan hovering there, close, but it was as if he was afraid to touch her. She turned and looked at him for a moment; he was still fully clothed and absolutely regal in his velvet blazer and she shivered, vulnerable; she pressed against him in just her panties now, his arms coming around the softness of her bare skin, and cradling her with his body, so much larger and so warm. “Harris comes out of the bathroom--” Kenzie continued, feeling able now that he was holding her again, “--and he sees this man pulling on me and I look at him and I scream help Harris help me and he goes up to this man and he hits him right in the throat under the chin with the flat of his hand and...the man just crumples like he’s made of paper.” Kenzie drifted her hands down the soft velvet of Duncan’s arms and turned her eyes up to him; his expression a dagger into her heart, his eyes dark with the memory of the fear she had seen there when he’d run out of the elevator and to her desk, his face white, his body shaking as she fell into his arms. “I just sort of stood there in shock for awhile, by the time I felt like I started breathing again I realized Harris was holding me up and my knees were buckling and he picked me up like I was a doll and set me in my desk chair and I just...I just burst into tears…”

“Oh Kenzie, oh, baby, oh no…” Duncan’s lips came down and kissed her eyelids, first one, then the other, his mouth came down and kissed the tip of her nose and then her cheeks, one at a time, and then her mouth, kissed her mouth with aching supplication and Kenzie thought that’s enough, I’m done and I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight, I just want you to kiss me, kiss me everywhere, kiss me forever, and Kenzie whispered “Duncan,” into his mouth and she turned away from him to the lamp beside the bed and switched it off and they were bathed in darkness, the low light from the living room spilling through the doorway for a moment; “Shut the door, baby,” she whispered, and Duncan obeyed, turning and pressing it closed, and now they were in darkness entire, but for the low glow of the city somewhere far away through the window. “Your eyes look like gold,” he said to her, and he threw his blazer onto the floor (that’s right baby, abandon everything except for us) and moaned softly into her as her hands came up to unbutton his shirt, pulled his belt out with aching ease, unbuttoned his pants and pushed them away. “And yours look like blue fire,” she replied, up into his lips, pulling him down to her as she fell back onto the bed. He hovered above her and she could just see the outline of his hair over his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the shadow of his stubble, the soft shape of his lips, open and his stare falling down over her, and Kenzie loved the darkness because in that moment it felt like it was holding them, shielding them truly from the eyes of the world, creating a secret place where they could hide and all other thought could fade and only the two of them existed, in this place. His lips came down to her nipple and sucked with urgency, fingers coming around to push her breast into his mouth, and she shivered as his hair fell against her collarbone, a whisper of his love, and her hands went down his back, nails digging in and leaving red trails that were lost in the shadows, her legs coming around him, crossing at his back, pressing her sex up into his groin where she could feel the hardness of his cock through the two thin layers of fabric that covered them there. Duncan continued to suck, swirling his tongue over the hardness of her nipple again and again, then moved to the other breast and worked at it carefully, his free hand drifting down to the waistband of her panties and toying with it carefully in his thumb and index finger, pressing into her hip bone, but not moving them further down, not yet.

“I think my mother liked to try to keep us apart tonight,” he whispered against her between sucking on her, the tickle of his breath against the wetness he’d left on her making Kenzie’s eyes flutter. Duncan’s musky-wood smell was falling over her in the darkness and it made her heart beat wildly up into where his lips were devouring her, and she was dizzy with the strength of her senses, the presence of him in the absence of sight. “She wanted us to not be able to touch each other, but she failed, because I’m going to touch you everywhere now, I’m going to touch you until you’re written into my skin like a tattoo that can never be erased, I’m going to kiss you a thousand times, baby, kiss you until I’ve memorized every inch of you...”

Kenzie was murmuring before she even realized it herself; a low hum of yes, baby, yes, mhmm, yes, fuck, the feeling of his mouth on her in the darkness kindling a fire low in her body that made her want to writhe, and she was pulling his face up to her to taste him, breathlessly connected, and her hand fell down his ribs to his hip bone and into his briefs where she wrapped her fist around his cock--it was achingly hard, thrilling her again, sending a shiver down her body and he arched into her, moaning into her mouth as she pushed the fabric off him, cradling his ass in her hands for a moment, dragging her nails down to his thighs as she pushed the underwear off him and he said “Oh fuck, baby, that feels fucking good--” and then he yanked her panties down with one terribly strong hand and Kenzie’s heart stopped for a moment with the force of it, gasping as his index finger pressed harshly between her legs, into her clit, his mouth hovering over hers again; if she’d been standing her legs would have buckled instantly, instead, her legs keened back, lifting her sex up towards his hand, up so her ass fell against his thighs with a low slap, and she uttered another little moaning cry into him, her fist still clutching his erection and his hardness was sending currents of energy through her core, her cunt convulsing for a moment in anticipation. Duncan seemed to feel this current under his fingers flush against her; he let out a pitiful groan into her cheek, and she felt his cock convulse under her fingers.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, his blue eyes staring down into hers in the dark, penitent, devoted, and the outline of his expression in the deep shadows one of aching adulation, and it made Kenzie feel as though he was whispering a prayer into her, a prayer of worship, a prayer to her only and always, a priest to her, and a prayer so fervent it made him most beloved in her eyes. “I’ll do anything you want to you, I’ll let you do anything to me, fucking anything. Tell me, angel.”

“I want your lips on me and I want mine on you, baby, I wanna suck your gorgeous cock while you eat me,” Kenzie whispered, and she moved from underneath him, pushing his arms gently so he lifted away from her, following her carefully, completely supplicant to her direction; Kenzie pushed him down into the pillows now, his head falling into their softness, his long form stretched out underneath her, and she straddled him for a moment, staring down at him. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness and she could still see that aching devotion falling down the beautiful contour of his face; he reminded her of a Renaissance painting, a man who also seemed unlike a man in that he was so radiantly graceful and sublime, a higher form of man, an ideal of the ecstasy of human imagining. How are you mine, she thought again, dumbstruck and shivering, and his hands came up to cup at her breasts, and she pressed a finger down between his lips and he sucked at her skin, her thumb grazing down his stubble. Kenzie moved back a little, moved until she felt the hardness of his cock brush up the sensitive, wet space between her legs; Duncan moaned into her finger, closing his eyes; those eyes, low blue flame, a constant candle lit for her and her alone.

“Am I your angel, baby,” Kenzie asked, her body thrilling at the feeling of his length flush against her pussy and ass, her cunt twinging again, the spasm of the muscles there sending a thrill of demanding need through her thighs. She let her sex press into him that way for a long, aching moment, knowing it must be as intense and terrible for him as it was for her, relishing the intensity, pressed against his need.

“Fuck, Kenzie, yes, you’re my angel, you are the only one,” he said into her fingers, and her hand fell down to clutch around his adam’s apple, desirous for more, a longer prayer, a deeper worship, a worship from his mouth into the core of her being, and she squeezed a little, her nails pressing into his skin, and he gasped. Kenzie’s mind filled with heat, her senses suddenly feeling like scalding water overflowing, and she raised her little palm and brought it down against his cheek with a snap, the little slap startling her ears and his eyes flashed at her in the dark and Kenzie said “Worship me with your mouth now, baby,” and he said “Yes, baby, come here,” and she knew he was commanding her--the slap and her hand at his throat seemed to have kindled an animalistic rush in him--and her need to be filled was bleeding into a need to do what he wanted now, and she was lost in the clash of her desires as he gripped her thighs and carefully pushed her down so he could turn her at the hips (god he’s so fucking strong, his hands could rip the life out of me, drag me down into oblivion, my Hades dragging me down with his beautiful, terrible hands, down into the depths to be devoured by him entirely devoured this way devoured in his aching lips), flipping her carefully but with an ease that made her heart jump into her throat; suddenly her back was facing him, her legs slipping down to straddle on either side of his chest under his arms, his cock pressing between her breasts now, and he yanked her up, demanding, to his face, so her cunt hovered just below his lips and his cock was brushing against her jaw; he pulled her into his mouth and Kenzie cried out, whimpering helplessly as his tongue immediately pressed into her clit, terribly warm and dripping wet, and her head fell and she drooled onto the head of his cock; she felt her eyes roll back into her head as he ate at her, and Kenzie steeled herself and opened her mouth and took his hard cock (fuck he’s fucking big when I look at him this way fuck he’s huge) into her and carefully pressed down, her tongue working against his length, and she felt him shuddering under her as his tongue probed into her soaking wet cunt and back to her clit again, focused there with a precise, deft rhythm; Kenzie opened her throat, willing herself not to gag as she took his whole length into her for a moment, then worked herself back up carefully. She could feel her thighs shuddering, the feeling of his mouth shattering her desire for control; it was bleeding out into a desire to give him terrible, transcendent pleasure--in this moment, Kenzie felt gold waves of emotion falling from the top of his head down into her body; I want you, only you, only you and always, always to be pressed into you this way, only to worship you, only to feel your mouth, only to feel you, you belong to me and I am yours entirely and there is nothing without you, there is void in your absence, that is all I know for certain, I wanna fuck you until I am lost in you and I become you and you are me and together we are something else, I wanna fuck you endlessly and so hard and so deeply and so often--

Kenzie moved her mouth up and down, working her hand at the base of his cock, her tongue swirling at the sensitive hole at the smooth head of his length; her saliva dripped down from her lips, down the shaft of him, and she moved her hand up and down and the sound of the wetness sucked in her ears as she moved her head again, faster for a moment and then with aching slowness, and Duncan moaned against her, against the swollen lips of her cunt, swollen with his attentions, swollen with terrible want. “Fuck baby, you taste so fucking good, god, your mouth feels so fucking good, fuck, I can’t--oh, fuck--Kenzie, fuck, baby, gonna--” Kenzie could hear the tremble under his words, the edge, and she dipped her head down further so the head of his cock pressed into the back of her throat and she felt his tongue lave out and press harshly into her clit, press there with wanton concentration as his hot come spurted into her mouth and she swallowed, once, twice, the taste of him salty and thick, her eyes going hazy as she felt the edge of her orgasm cresting down between her hips; she pulled back and up so she was sitting on his mouth, her ass at his nose, and pressed her hands into his torso, the taste of his come coating the inside of her mouth, and she looked up at the ceiling, dark with shadow, and his hands were on her thighs pressing her down onto him and Kenzie cried out as her orgasm forced itself roughly down through the center of her and bright flames burned behind her sight, filling the blackness of the room with intense light as she lost herself in his devoted prayer, the most ecstatic of prayers, his mouth and his tongue rushing every bit of her out into him in that moment, extending her helplessly into oblivious exaltation.

“Kenzie, baby, oh, baby, Kenzie--” Duncan’s hands were pulling her softly down, murmuring her name with aching softness, and Kenzie felt like she was coming back from a far distance to his arms; back from the brink of of edge of the universe, and she was sliding off him and she was beside him now, her head falling onto the pillow, hair falling across her cheek, close to his face, his arms clutching her with fervency, as if he couldn’t stand the sudden cease of the closeness of their orgasms; she pressed into him, her leg coming over his thigh, and he kissed her and the taste of her sex filled her own mouth as he did, and her tongue came against his and Kenzie thought I could die, I love him so, I could die right now and this would be enough for me, how can I bear this, how can I bear how much I love him, it’s so much, it fucking hurts, it aches.

“Duncan, I love you. I love you so much. I wish there were other words--”

“Shhh, baby. No. I know. I have to ask you something,” and his mouth was at her forehead, his hands threading her hair, his fingers pressing to the sides of her face; Kenzie could feel the weight of his cock, going soft, pressing into her stomach, and the thin film of sweat on his skin against her, and his eyes seemed almost white in this light, ethereal in post-coitus. “Do you feel like...sometimes...you can hear what I’m thinking? I know...I know it sounds crazy--”

“Yes, baby. Yes. I heard you tonight, I think, when we were with your mother--it’s not the first time, but I...I thought I heard you think that I was so brave, brave and that my strength was like gold, and, before that...you looked at me and it felt like you pushed something into me, you pushed you love and your faith into me and it spread around us--”

Duncan was nodding into her--“Yes,” he was whispering, “yes, baby, yes, I didn’t imagine it, yes, that happened, yes, you can hear me, you heard me, you felt it too,”--and she could feel the smile on him, though she could barely see it; his body felt as though it was smiling, a coiled joy in him as he pressed more deeply into her, his hands falling down her waist to clutch her hips into him and his hips ground against her and she sighed; a sigh that was more like a cry, and tears came instantly into her eyes, tears at the intensity of her orgasm and at the intensity of what had just passed between them; the realization that they had both experienced that energy tonight, that they had both heard each other’s thoughts, somehow, madly, impossibly, and yet somehow possible, and the wildness of this revelation stopped her heart; sweat broke out instantly on her skin and she was filled with terrible longing for him again, in a sharp wave that crashed into the center of her chest.

“How--” and Duncan was kissing her again, his mind falling into her and it felt like a thousand pinpricks of light that had burst into brilliance under his skin, in the lining of his soul; how, how, how, but the how suddenly meant nothing; the only thing that mattered was the understanding, the reality, the knowing, and Kenzie wondered if she willed it enough, if she wanted it, if she could hear him now--she focused on the feeling passing between them, the connection of their mouths pressed together, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky smell of him that fell over her in bursts, the aching strength of him pressing into her, the soft cascade of his hair as she pushed her fingers through it, in the dark; I don’t need to see him with my eyes to see him, to truly see him, the low blue glow of him, the radiance of his beauty. I think I could see him, really see him, at the very end of time. I think I could pick him out of a million other souls and know him, instantly. And then she did hear him; heard the tenderness under every beat of it, and she felt lost in him, like he was pressing his lips onto the deepest, most secret part of her: Kenzie, I think I’ve always known you, I think we knew each other in some other time and in some other place, and I think we were together then, and I think it’s destiny that we found each other again, and I think no matter what happens someday we will find each other again, because that’s our Fate; that’s what they wove for us, when time began, they wove our souls together and it cannot be changed and we cannot be long parted from each other and we will always find each other again, because they will It--and their will is the way of things. You are my One, the only One, until the end of all things. Mackenzie. I love you. I love you. I love you…

Kenzie pressed into him, pulling him gently so he was on top of her now, their mouths still crashing against each other as these thoughts, his thoughts, and she knew they truly were this time, fell into her like a waterfall, like a rainstorm, and Kenzie’s hand came down to his cock again and slid up and down as he grew hard and she lifted her hips up onto his thighs and slid down onto him, her cunt slick with release, and they gasped into each other, his hands buried in the golden cascade of her hair and clutching her hip so she was pressed flush into him and this way, us together, it’s the only thing, she pushed the thought into him and she knew he didn’t need to speak, knew he heard her, his eyes staring into hers then closing, overwhelmed, and Duncan nodded into the bridge of her nose, his hair falling against her eyelashes, yes, the only thing, the only thing, to be here with you, beloved of all, most beloved, my love. He pressed into her, then out with aching slowness, then began to ride into her with a measured, building rhythm; his hand came down from her hair and Duncan brought his fingers up to his mouth to suck them carefully, not breaking the tide of his concentration as his length pressed into her with wild urgency, and brought them, slick with his spit, into her swollen clit, still, already, aching with wetness from his mouth; his other hand came up from her hip to press into the center of her chest, between her breasts, as if to hold her heart; as if to feel its luxuriant pounding through the tips of his fingers; his thighs pressed down into her, forcing her legs wide, and he was so hard Kenzie ached; ached with the knowledge of him. Their minds came together again, for a moment, from spinning around each other; the intensity, the intimacy of the touch--of our souls, she thought to him, and into her he pressed another thought--our bodies and our souls, Kenzie, for both of mine are yours.

“You’re gonna come,” she breathed into him, her mouth pressing into his nose, pressing against his eyes, which fluttered closed against her; “and I’m gonna come at the same time, okay, baby?” She arched up into his hand, the feeling of his fingers making her want to scream, making her hips grind up, making her want him inside her always.

“Okay, Kenzie, baby, okay…” Duncan’s eyes stared into her, needy, aching--and then he let out a little whine into her that seemed involuntary--a little cry that seemed to echo out from the center of his being, and Kenzie said “Shhh, baby, I know--” “Kenzie, how, I found you, somehow I found you, fuck me, I fucking found you--” “Fuck me, baby, fuck me,” Kenzie demanded, her eyes rolling back as the sensation of his fingers rushed her up to the edge, “Fuck me like that, fuck me hard like that, give me your hard cock, baby--” and Duncan pressed into her with such force that she felt the scream building at the back of her throat--”I’m going to--come--”

At that moment Kenzie felt herself slip down over the edge of her orgasm; felt it cascade up through her, from the ends of Duncan’s fingers deep up inside her where his cock was buried in her, and at the same time her cunt clenched down onto him with ravenous need and her scream, completely overcome and tinged with a sob, rattled out of her--and then she felt Duncan press his mouth into her neck to stifle the strangled scream that came from his own throat, and he came deep inside her and they clung to each other, convulsing, trembling, and Kenzie could feel the hot wetness of his tears falling into her hair and against her skin where his face was buried against her ear and she felt the sob of his body as her own hot tears coursed down her cheeks and her arms clutched around his back and her sex spasmed again and again against his length, sending dizzying shocks up her body. Kenzie brought her hand to his cheek and her heart spasmed painfully at the wetness there; in the darkness she could see the glowing white-blue of his eyes again, now overcome by his orgasm and the emotion that had fallen out of him with it--Duncan Shepherd, her prince, so soft and pliant and vulnerable in her arms, and she gathered his sweetness in this moment against her and knew she would remember it always; Kenzie knew that she would look back on his tears in her hair on this night; knew that if she ever doubted at all that he loved her, she would look back to this night, the tender color of him as he clung to her and know that he did; know that he always would, would because it was their destiny to love each other, through every shade of time.

------

Later, after their tears had dried, Kenzie lay against him with her head in that space under his arm; her space, and Duncan’s hand threaded through her hair behind her, lazily, absently, her leg crooked over his thigh, one of her hands on his belly with his hand hovering above, his pinky crooked against her thumb; they were silent, the only sounds coming from the faraway drift of the night outside, and Kenzie couldn’t hear any of his thoughts now; couldn’t perceive their shape, knew that they were hazy with the weight of his orgasms, hazy with tiredness, hazy with the depth of the emotion they had shared, and she felt sure hers were hazy in the same way, that he couldn’t see them; she was on Duncan’s side of the bed (somehow she knew this inherently; that she would always sleep on the other side, but tonight they hadn’t moved from the way they’d fallen post-coitus) and had switched on the lamp there, on the lowest setting; the bronze light fell over them as they stared up at the ceiling, and seeing him now, after the sensation of him bathed in darkness, struck her with wonder; to see you that way, and then this way.

“I think we can only hear thoughts when...when whatever is happening is really intense,” she murmured into his cheek, and Duncan sighed into her, closing his eyes; “I think you’re right,” he said, hand coming from her hair to hold her at the incline of her arm above the crook of her elbow, press her naked torso into his hip. “Kenzie, I can’t believe it...it’s so incredible…I never believed in anything like this before now. I never believed in things I couldn’t perceive with my own eyes. Now...I do believe. I believe in all of it, now. To be near you is to believe.”

“You think of me so tenderly,” Kenzie whispered, looking up at him. “It takes my breath away.”

Duncan’s eyes were still closed, as if he was afraid to look at her; “I love you so much, Kenzie. I don’t have words for it. It...scares me. But it’s the most amazing...the most moving thing I’ve ever felt...” Kenzie’s eyes fell over his wildly beautiful face; like this, he was like an aspect of the Pieta, or some aching divinity; to be loved by him shatters my soul into a thousand pieces, each one raw with sensitivity, each one alive with so much feeling I can barely stand it.

“I love you too, Duncan. Please tell me you felt it from me.”

He nodded; his eyes opened and they were shining with tears again. “I did. I do. And I heard those thoughts towards my mother from you, baby--I heard you--that we’ll help people and create beautiful things--and we will, I promise we will, I love you so.”

Kenzie sat up and pressed a kiss into him, and smiled; “Oh, Duncan.”

“With you beside me, Mackenzie, I promise we will make everything I have--everything we have--into something beautiful. Baby, I swear.” He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing along her fingers, making low heat coil in her belly.

“Duncan, we can make so many people happy. As happy as this. As happy as we are,” she said, and then Kenzie suddenly pressed the tips of her fingers into Duncan’s torso, unable to keep her smile at bay, dancing them along his skin, all of her joy spilling out of her; a peal of laughter burst out of him and Duncan jerked to the side to get away from her tickles, and then he pulled her down onto him and rained kisses between her breasts and Kenzie thought more joy is coming and our love will make us brave and so bright and our love will bring light to others and she knew, in the deepest part of her soul, that it was true.

------

When Kenzie woke the sun was shining down onto the bed (it’s summer, she thought, we should go to the beach soon, I’d love that, kissing him in the sand with the blue ocean stretched out before us) and Duncan was (wonderfully, blessedly) still sleeping quietly beside her. They’d slept naked (like that first night, Kenzie’s thoughts drifted, sleepily, eyes roving over his saintly face, the delicate incline of his eyelashes, the pout of his lips, whatever dream she’d had instantly forgotten, that first night where my heart was shattered by you and you kissed my ankles and said god, you taste good and I fucked you wearing that necklace that had taken me so long to save the money for and when you woke you hovered over me again, desirous, and I knew it hadn’t been a dream, and I knew I’d be content to always be in your bed, a bed we’ve now made ours from our passion), and Kenzie could feel the delicate press of his fingers against her hip, their bodies turned towards each other, Duncan’s curls falling over the pillow. She pressed her toes into the incline of the top of his ankle, down his foot and up again, where she could feel the hairs on his smooth, long leg, and pressed toward him, hungry for his heat. Kenzie lifted her face up into Duncan’s neck, sending little kisses down from the incline of his jaw to his adam’s apple and the elegant fall of his collarbones; Duncan let out a little pliant sigh, his big hand coming up from her hip to clutch her against him, immediately needy; she marveled again at the way it seemed to cover so much of her body, wherever it touched her; she felt enveloped under his hands, cradled in his colossal embrace. Kenzie felt the hardness between his legs press between hers (fuck, he always has an erection in the morning, ugh, fuck me baby) and the musky smell of him fell through her (he smells like sex, like the woods after warm rain) and he said “Kenzie,” and she thought like a prayer, he says my name so lovingly, “what time is it, baby.”

“Only after 8.” The smell of him was making her dizzy, making her cunt pulse down towards where she felt his cock pressing to the inside of her thigh; Duncan’s eyes opened to stare at her, and Kenzie breathed out a little, wondering if she’d ever not feel frozen with the intensity of his gaze. “We can sleep for hours still if we want to, baby...”

Duncan kissed her gently, just once, sleep still clinging to his eyes; Kenzie brought her hand up to brush the bits of skin that had gathered at the corners of them away with one careful finger, admiring the hairs along his jaw and the straight fall of his nose, the dusting of tiny beauty marks along his left cheek. His eyes were open still, half-closed with the remnants of the sleep he’d just left; and he said “You were an angel in the dream I was having,” and his eyes fluttered, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, one of his hands coming up between her shoulder blades, one falling down to clutch, fingers spreading, over her ass cheek.

“Oh really. An angel, huh?” She pressed more kisses into his chest; into the bones of his shoulders, still marveling at his smell. Duncan was nodding into her, greedily; pressing her mouth up into his, his fingers tightening around her skin, speaking between their lips; “Yes. You had wings and a halo that looked like it was made of stars...of starlight. I was...I don’t know who I was. I was dark. I was something dark. And you put your arms around me and I was full of light and relief. Your touch was...healing. It healed me. You were divine, baby. You are divine.”

“You aren’t dark, Duncan. You aren’t.”

“Kenzie...I’ve done...there are things I’ve done that--”

“Shhhh. They don’t matter now. We’re together. You aren’t dark. You aren’t.”

His tongue was in her mouth and she was shifting up onto him in the soft morning light, on the incline of his hips against the trail of hair on his abdomen that led to his groin, pushing herself up from the center of his chest so the lips of her vulva were pressing down into the upper side of his morning wood, and he moaned into her; “I’m never gonna stop wanting to fuck you, Kenzie,” and she said “Good, baby, because you’re gonna fuck me again right now,” and she lifted her hips and pushed herself down onto his thick erection so she was straddling his thighs and Kenzie whined as he filled her, “god, baby, you’re so fucking hard,” and he groaned a little, as if trying to steel himself against the intensity of the sensation, and Kenzie put two fingers in her mouth and rolled them along her tongue; saliva dripped from them as she brought them out and pressed them against her clit and worked at herself, hard and immediate, as she rolled her hips on him, his shaft totally buried inside her so she could feel the knobbed surface of his balls against the bottom of her ass, feel him throb deep inside her, filling her so much she wondered if he’d tear her apart; it made her shudder and throw her head back, and she watched his eyes, hazy with sleep a moment ago, go wide and roll back as she rode his aching cock.

“We all have darkness in us--” Kenzie breathed down at him as she moved her hips and rubbed at her clit, building a tantric cadence with her body, “--but you have so much good and so much loveliness in you, baby, and it was there before we met, I know it--”; Duncan’s hands came up, one pressing to her breast and kneading at her nipple, hard now in her arousal, the other at the small of her back, his nails digging into her skin there, as if to chain her against him; “Don’t stop, baby, god you feel like fucking heaven, fuck me,” and his voice begged, she could hear the edge in it, the need; she smiled, and he gazed up at her, his expression rapturous; that beautiful face, that gorgeous face, like a God, like Hades to his beloved Persephone, like Dionysus beholding Ariadne, like Apollo, most fair, smitten with Daphne, or Eros folding Psyche into his arms: just for me, when he looks at me that way. It’s only for me, and I know it. I can feel it. That gaze is for me and me alone, for I am most beloved among all to him.

“Kenzie, angel,” he breathed, and she watched his eyes flutter with the wave of his release rising, the intensity of the softness and wetness and tightness between her legs; god I love to see him in the light, she thought, I want to stare at him all fucking day, I want to drink him like wine. Her sex ached; ached with their fucking from the night before, ached with need for him now, ached so wonderfully that she thought she might faint from it, the intensity of the want there coiling like a spring that would cut and maim when it broke forth; “let me, baby, please, let me touch you,” he whispered, and she lifted her fingers from her clit to let the large, warm pad of his index finger flush itself against the bud of nerves between her legs, her hand falling down over his palm to grip at his wrist, holding him there--”There, that’s better, baby,” he murmured, “God, I can’t wait to get that fucking mirror,” and she nodded and said “You wanna watch yourself fuck me, huh, baby,” and he said “Fuck yes, I wanna watch myself fuck you, Kenzie, angel baby, fucking goddess,” and she laughed a little, and her laugh seemed to stir his desire further and she felt his length spasm inside her and his other hand came up from her breast and around her neck and she gasped a little “Fucking yes, baby,” and he squeezed, the pressure of his fingers constricting the air from her lungs and Kenzie’s heart pounded harshly in the center of her, and her sex twinged under his fingers and then he was pressing his hips up into her and moaning her name as he came, “Kenzie, angel, Kenzie, baby--” and she whimpered as he hand went tighter for a moment, tight enough to make her gasp longer, harder, fuck yes, baby, I love your hand there, forcing me down onto you this way, she knew he heard, and then she came under his hands, came and knew that as she did, he saw the halo around her head as she hovered over him in the sunlight; the halo he’d seen in his dream.

------

“Baby, I was thinking--” Duncan said as she sat at the black obsidian island in the kitchen, in the Marie Laveau tee shirt, staring down at her phone in one hand (Instagram; the comments on the photo of them together were absolutely wild and it had wracked up over 35,000 likes; Claire had already sent her several links to websites gushing about the photo, including one from BPF.com: DUNCAN SHEPHERD AND GIRLFRIEND MACKENZIE STONE POST FIRST SELFIE TOGETHER ON INSTAGRAM; LEGIONS OF FANS COIN NICKNAME “DUCKENZIE”), hair over her shoulder, a spoon poised in her other hand over the bowl of granola with blueberries and blackberries he’d given her, to her delight--”We own a cabin around Deep Creek Lake...it’s about a three hour drive from the city, and it’s...well, it’s a very large cabin, very secluded. Sometimes my Uncle BIll and my mother still use it for private parties, mostly. We used to go there more often when I was young, but it’s been about two years since the last time I stayed there. I was thinking...we could go there and stay for a few days. After the Gala. We could get away from the paps and my mother and everything...all of this. It’s so beautiful there and there are deer sometimes and I think--”

“Yes, baby, fucking yes,” Kenzie cut him off. “Dunny, I would fucking love that.” She couldn’t stop the grin that broke over her face as he turned to her, his blue eyes smiling down at her incredulously, the espresso he’d just made her in his hand. “Dunny, huh? That’s a new one.” He brought it over to her (he was in black sweats again, his torso bare) and she leaned up as his face came down to her; his kiss tasted like bitter coffee and sweet berries and him, all of him, and she sighed into him, gently pulling the copper espresso cup from his hand, her fingers trailing over his languidly.

“That’s what I wanna call you, baby,” She grinned again. “Dunnybunny.” She laughed. Duncan snorted, his face breaking out into a smirk that became a snorting laugh of his own. “I can’t wait to see my mother’s face when you call me that in her presence.”

“Oh, I definitely will, in that case. Not much will make your mother like me less than she already does, so I have nothing to lose.”

“She does like you, though. She can’t help it. The way she kept mentioning that you look like Madeline; that was her way of showing you affection. How could anyone not like you, baby?” His fingers came across the island as he leaned down onto it, trailing down her arm, her wrist, her hand; Kenzie’s phone lay just beyond her fingertips; Duncan glanced at it, noticing the Instagram photo open on it, eyes falling over the hundreds of thousands of likes. “Everyone loves you. And they should.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she smiled up at him, toying with the ends of his fingers, feeling her cheeks blush. Duncan smiled again as he turned away to make another espresso, this one for himself. “Yes, Miss Stone, whatever you say, Miss Stone.”

“Ugh, no, don’t,” and she stood and ran over to him and threw her arms around his back, burying her face in his skin, hair falling in her eyes. “Don’t call me that. Call me baby. Call me Kenzie. Call me angel.”

“Fuck,” and he turned around so she was looking up into his eyes and he said “Kenzie, I will call you angel a thousand times a day if you want me to, anything you want belongs to you now, just say it, just tell me what it is and it’s yours, okay? I mean it. Anything, baby. When’s your birthday, anyway?”

“July 17th. Anchaly told me you’re a Cancer too, so yours must be close to mine.” Kenzie’s arms still gripped Duncan’s hips, and his hand had come around to that soft spot under her ear, down into her hair, the tangles of sleep brushed out. “July 6th,” he answered, pressing his lips into her forehead as she stood there barefoot, feeling tiny in his embrace again, wildly vulnerable and soft and small. “My mother always insists on having a huge party...invites a hundred people, all politicians and celebrities, god, I always hate it, but this year--this year I’ll love it because you’ll be there.” “Mmhmm, of course I will, baby...but I have no idea what to do for a present--what do I get for the man who has everything?” She grinned up at him.

“I do have everything. Now, I truly do, baby. Now the party will always be for you, too. Oh, Kenzie, I love that. I love that our birthdays are close.” He pushed his fingers gently along her cheek, his arm around her shoulder; the tenderness in his voice made her heart shake. “Kenzie, I love you so much, being with you is like--like I’m fucking high as a kite all the time, wonderfully drunk--” he pressed his lips down onto her cheek, along to her ear, and Kenzie shivered, her body arching up into him, unable to stop herself. “That cabin sounds so wonderful, baby,” Kenzie said, trying to break the spell that had begun to weave between them again--she’d have to get ready to go to the Shepherd mansion soon, it wouldn’t do to arrive disheveled in front of Annette Shepherd from fucking her son on the table. But I do want him to fuck me on the table, Kenzie realized. We haven’t fucked on the table--not this one or that fucking beautiful cherrywood table in the other room--I want him to lay me down on it and fuck my fucking brains out standing. “To get away from everything like that sounds so perfect, everything has just been so insane…”

Duncan pulled away from her, nodding. “That’s why I thought of it. I don’t want you to get...overwhelmed. The paps are enough to drive anyone insane, but they hound this family like wolves at raw meat, ever since my grandfather became one of the richest men in America back in the 70’s. And the way they’re acting around you scares me. I want you to be safe and happy more than anything, baby. And it’ll be just the two of us. Just us.” His hand fell against her lips, probing gently. Kenzie opened her mouth a little to let his finger in, tongue swirling over it, her eyes lifted to his and she could see the heated desire coiled there again, could see the shape of the thoughts drifting inside him; he’s thinking about getting a hook for the ceiling in our bedroom, a hook to hang velvet rope, rope to tie me up and fuck me standing while we watch each other in a gilded mirror and I fall down onto his face as he eats me on his knees and he’s thinking about using that plug on me and then fucking my ass himself, fucking me hard in the ass with his big cock and coming inside me there, and her senses tingled and vibrated with the onslaught of these thoughts. Fuck, baby. Fuck, yes. She sucked at his finger as his thoughts crashed against her, and his eyes went bright with his arousal--blue like the summer sky drifting outside these windows, all my little plants hanging along it now, resting on the spotless sill--Kenzie was sure she had never wanted a man so much in her life as much as she wanted Duncan; she wanted every part of him, every secret, every shadow, every crevice and contour of him memorized, every inch explored, and the desire for him seemed to grow rather than dissipate every time they fucked, every time they came close together as if their minds were linked (but they are, we can each other’s fucking thoughts sometimes), every time he made her come with his mouth and his hands and his hard cock. The thought of exploring each other for days, sheltered by woods and a lake and the quiet of nature, with no one to tell them where to be and no one to take photos of them and no one to stare at them or scold them or probe them for details made her ache; god, that couldn’t come soon enough. But there was so much still to get through, first. Ugh.

“I should get ready to go to your mother’s house, baby,” Kenzie whispered, with regret. Duncan was leaning down to her again, his nose brushing against hers, his mouth hovering just above hers, his breath shallow, his thumb wet with her spit, now trailing along her bottom lip. “But I heard that. And the answer is yes.”

“Fuck, Kenzie.” He pushed his mouth onto hers and she returned his aching kiss for a moment, then pulled back and spoke into him, hearing his breath go ragged.

“While I’m with your mother, you should do some shopping. For us.”

“Uh huh, Kenzie. Yes, baby.”

She slid out of his grasp; Duncan groaned in frustration, and Kenzie could see the flush of his skin, looking at him over her shoulder as she stepped towards the bedroom. Her hip ran into the edge of the island, not looking where she was going; she blushed, wincing, and Duncan bit his lip, looking down at the floor and then back up at her, shyly. Kenzie saw the vulnerability in his gaze at her having heard those thoughts, raw and carnal and full of hedonistic want of her; but they had sent a thrill through her, one that made her think of the colossal painting that stretched across his study again; The Youth of Bacchus, the pleasures of the flesh, my body and your body, baby, together, where they belong.

“Wanna come watch me get dressed, baby?”

“Ugh, yes,” Duncan groaned, and came after her as she ran towards the bedroom, past the dark red roses on the coffee table, laughing.

------

Most of Kenzie’s clothes were still on the rolling clothing rack she’d used in her old apartment; the clothes that had been in her sun-and-moon dresser still stacked neatly in large boxes. Duncan had, somewhat shyly, asked if he could put all her things away for her--while she was busy with Annette--in the drawers on the right side of the walk-in closet; “I’m going to move the things I have in there out; it’s your side now.” “Are you kidding, baby, it’s my dream for someone else to do my laundry for me. You can put my clothes away every damn day. You can be my personal stylist,” and she clutched him around the waist for a moment, pressing against him, and he smiled down at her. “You’ll have one of those for real very soon, baby,” he replied. “Annette insists, for all public events. Also--now that I’m thinking of it--I have a service deliver groceries here several times a week. If you write down everything you think we need and give it to Anchaly in the morning, it’s here at night. It’s safer--and especially after that incident yesterday, baby, I think you shouldn’t go out alone for things like that. Harris should be with you if you need to go shopping for any reason. You should use the card I gave you to order anything you need online as much as you want to; Anchaly signs for packages, too.”

Kenzie frowned a little, leaning away from him, going over to her hanging rack and pulling out a black collared sweater with short sleeves, throwing it on its hanger on the bed. She leaned over one of the boxes that littered the corner, finding the high-waisted mini skirt she was looking for; it was black too, with gold buttons down the front. She pulled the Marie Laveau shirt off, standing there in just her underwear for a moment; as she pulled the skirt up, wiggling it over her hips, she avoided Duncan’s gaze from where he stood standing at the door of the walk-in closet, leaning against it, eyes focused on her; she couldn’t hear him right now, but knew anyway that he was looking at her with both affectionate concern and desire.

“Kenzie. I understand your frustration, baby. I do.”

Kenzie breathed out, leaning over another box, finding a strapless tan-colored bra, snapping it over her arms and pulling the cups over her little breasts (she’d remembered reading somewhere that for fittings a strapless bra should be worn), and then she turned to him, in just her bra and skirt, the frown still creasing over her face. I can’t help it, she thought. This sucks. “It just...makes me fucking sad, baby,” she said, tucking a golden-tawny wave behind her ear, reaching for the shirt she’d tossed on the bed. Duncan came over to where she stood; he slid onto the bedspread, grasping her hand before she could pull it away, crossing his legs, pulling her gently down to him. “Like I’ve given up a part of me...one that could go to the grocery store and just...get groceries. Fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s like this.”

She knelt on the bedspread, mussed from their passion and their sleep, looking at him; the bareness of his shoulders and the fall of his hair and his expression of remorse, blue eyes burning, oh, those eyes; then she pressed her arms around his neck, and Duncan put his face into her hair and pulled her into his lap, breathing her in.

“I know it’s not your fault, baby,” she murmured. “I just...I can’t believe...in just a week...so much can change. Everything. You know?”

“Baby, I know. Everything is different now. It feels strange to me too--everything I thought I wanted for the company...it was really something my uncle wants-- something my mother wants. I want something else. I want what you said, what you thought across that table when you looked at my mother--to bring other people happiness like this.”

Kenzie nodded into his neck, her body filling with sweet affection for him, a golden cascade of love--to choose your light over your darkness takes courage, my dearest love, and I am so proud of you, so proud to know you and love you in this moment, was the thought she pushed into him, and his arms tightened around her and she felt the emotion in the way he moved his head against her, felt the tremor in him, overcome with her admonition. You aren’t dark. You’ve chosen to be something else. That’s what matters.

Kenzie heard her phone trumpet from the kitchen island where she’d left it; she glanced over at the silver alarm clock on Duncan’s side of the bed and noticed it was 11:30 exactly. “Baby, I think I have to go soon,” she whispered into him and Duncan sighed. “I wish we could just stay home together, today,” he murmured into her.

“Me too, baby. But tomorrow we can. Tomorrow we have the whole day to ourselves. Maybe I can finally put all my things away.” She kissed him and Duncan closed his eyes; “Or we can just fuck all day, baby,” he said into her mouth, and Kenzie grinned into him, shivering. “I’m curious how many times I can make you come in a row--” And she wiggled out of his arms teasingly as he said this, loving the hungry look in his eyes. “Get that mirror and that hook,” she said, staring at him for a long moment, “and we can test that theory,” then, Kenzie went back over to the boxes in the corner, pulling out a pair of black socks, slipping them on her feet. Duncan watched the incline of her leg, letting out another soft little moan, almost involuntary; then he climbed off the bed and went to the walk-in closet, pushing his sweatpants down as he did, kicking them off, still looking over his shoulder into her eyes as his cock came free of its constraints, not quite erect, but not soft either; in that between state of arousal and anticipation; he slowly moved his hand down to it, gripping its shaft for a moment, leaning against the doorway, eyes falling up and down her body in the little sweater and mini skirt, his mouth open just a little, and Kenzie bit her lip. “Bad boy,” she whispered. “I’m gonna punish you later.” He grinned at her and went into the closet. Kenzie passed by to get her phone from the kitchen and couldn’t help but glance to him undressed, his back turned to her now; his wide shoulders extending down to his round ass and thick thighs, the fine hairs on his legs visible in the warm light of the closet. Beloved. Like the statue of David. I really do wish we could stay in bed all day, worshiping each other. If we ever get tired of fucking, it won’t be anytime soon.

Kenzie reached for her phone as she reached the island, looking down at the text.

Samuel: Miss Mackenzie, ready when you are.

Harris had today off; Kenzie supposed it wasn’t necessary to have him at the Shepherd mansion (there was no chance of paps being there; there was heavy security around the clock), though, she thought, it would have been nice to have his large presence beside her, in case Annette tries to poison me, only half-facetiously, biting her lip. On my way down in 5, she replied. Thanks Samuel. Kenzie went back to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway of the walk-in closet; Duncan was mostly dressed now, in tailored black slacks and a short-sleeved button down; “I don’t think I’ve seen you in short sleeves yet, baby,” she said softly, coming up to him as he did the top button, facing her; glancing up at her. “You look nice. You always look nice. But I like you in short sleeves. You look more...relaxed, or something.”

“I’m pretty sure naked is the most relaxed state you’ve seen me in, Kenzie,” he said, eyes in hers, his radiantly beautiful smile making her shy again. “Also, the short sleeves are for practical reasons--the high today is 81.” Kenzie turned to where several pairs of her shoes were lined against the floor; she hadn’t had time to organize these yet either, but she picked out her long black pointed boots, leaning against the drawers as she pulled them on under Duncan’s watchful eye; he was switching between buckling on his black Movado and staring at her legs again as they vanished under the black velvety fabric of the boots; they always made her feel pretty when she wore them, and she felt like she could use all the help she could get if Annette was going to be breathing down her neck for a few hours. “Samuel’s waiting for me downstairs, baby,” she said, looking up at him, straightening, clutching her phone in one hand, reaching for him with the other; he grasped her arm, stepping forward, and leaned down into her, and his heady, musk-wood smell fell over her again, dizzying and deep. “I’ll text you when I’m done with your mom, okay?”

“Okay, baby. Thank you for doing this. But remember what I said, if you don’t like what she wants you to wear, you don’t have to wear it. Erik is reasonable, he’ll understand.”

Kenzie reached over to where some of her jewelry was lined on the accessory shelf built into the side (her side) of the closet; she slipped the long necklace with tiny gold star charms on it around her neck; it dangled to her stomach, and she flipped her hair back over her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips. “How do I look, baby.”

“Like my Kenzie. Like a fucking angel.”

“Can you see my halo and wings still?”

“Always.”

She blushed; ugh, this fucking Prince. Fuck me, pressing her face up to kiss him again, then dancing away as he tried to grab her closer--”You are too fucking good at that,” he said after her, his eyes like deep ocean, and she giggled as she snatched the little convertible bag from where she’d left it by the wall in the living room, dipping down to smell the roses on the table, their evocative sweetness floating up at her; she glanced towards where she knew his bust of Nike was on the left side of the Bouguereau prints, and spoke a silent prayer for a day that wasn’t rife with the stresses of yesterday; spoke a silent prayer that in Annette Shepherd’s presence, she would be fearless and calm. Duncan followed her out, barefoot; he watched her go to the door and pull it open, and she said, “Wish me luck, baby.”

“You don’t need luck, Kenzie. You are beloved of the gods.”

She stared at him, puzzled; she could feel the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “That’s a funny thing to say, Duncan.” He came up to her, hands falling through her hair with adamant affection, before she could slip away from him again. “It’s true. I said it because it’s true. I feel it. Destiny. Our destiny. This wasn’t luck. It was destiny. It is our destiny.”

The doubt slipped from her mind; the confusion melted. “It really is, isn’t it.”

“Yes. It really is.” He kissed her fiercely again; his mouth bruising into hers; touching in thin tendrils down to her stomach. She pressed into him for a moment, suddenly possessed by her sadness at leaving him; then pulled away softly and stepped into the hall.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, baby.”

“Mhm, Kenzie. I love you.”

“And I, your Persephone, love you.”

“Oh, baby--”

Kenzie ran away from him down the hall to the elevator, which magically, somehow, opened for her before she even pressed the button. She turned as the doors slid shut, and he was leaning against the frame of the penthouse entrance, arm clutching the lintel, eyes on her, and she knew he was thinking of flowers in her hair again, petals floating down and leaving a secret trail behind her as she descended back to earth.

-----

Samuel had his foot on the gas of the BMW as soon as Kenzie slid into the backseat; she’d taken more time than she thought upstairs (your son was distracting me, Annette) and it was fifteen till the hour. Today he was listening to Fleetwood Mac; Kenzie clapped her hands together, delighted; listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise--”Samuel, can you turn it up?” She saw Samuel’s very white grin at her in the rearview, and watched his hand reach out to the knob on the Harman Kardon sound system; Stevie and Lindsey’s voices crashed into her on either side as if they were in the backseat with her.

“And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again, I can still hear you sayin’, you would never break the chain--” Samuel had the windows down and the wind whipped her hair across her cheek and neck, and Kenzie thought of Duncan’s hands and his blue gaze and his mouth and his hair on his forehead and the stubble on his cheeks and his height towering over her but his looks of longing into her eyes and toyed with the little stars on her necklace, feeling them carefully, singing along softly to herself. We can hear each other’s thoughts sometimes. A week ago I would have thought current me had lost her fucking mind. But I know it’s real. How can it be real? I don’t fucking know. But it is.

“Miss Mackenzie, your voice is so beautiful,” Samuel said, glancing up at her, the smile still at his mouth. “You should have been a singer, like Ms. Nicks.”

“Thank you, Samuel. To be compared to Stevie is the highest of compliments.”

“Just so.”

Chain, keep up together...Chain, keep us together…

As Samuel pulled up to the gate of the Shepherd mansion, Kenzie’s stomach did a backflip and she floated away from the strains of Christine’s high, cheerful voice: you, you make loving fun, it’s all I wanna do--Holy fuck, Kenzie thought. This is huge even for a mansion. She could see the tall Colonial-style windows over the gate, the Roman pillars extending in the doorway, a balcony above. I need to remember Duncan’s family is one of the richest in the country. Fuck. Am I ever gonna get used to this? Samuel spoke into the intercom (“Mackenzie Stone here to see Annette Shepherd,”) and the gate buzzed open. Kenzie glanced down at her phone; it was five till. She silently thanked Samuel’s magical powers of speed again. Samuel pulled up around the curving driveway to the entrance; vast double doors seemed to stare down at her with hostile judgement. Kenz, you got this. Remember the way Duncan pushed his love into you last night. The way you gathered it and moved it and made it more. You can gather it that way again, just remember that feeling. Be brave like Momby.

Kenzie breathed out, thanked Samuel (and silently, Stevie) and stepped out of the car, boots clicking on the smooth, tasteful cobble of the driveway, looking up at the house, bag slung over her shoulder, phone clutched in her palm. It was sunny and beautiful today; it was truly beginning to feel like summer. Kenzie breathed in deeply and let it out again; don’t let her get to you, no matter what she says, Kenzie. Momby wouldn’t. Duncan wouldn’t. Don’t do it.

She waved a little at Samuel before she shut the door; “I’ll text you when I’m done, is that okay, Samuel?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie. See you later.” She turned away as it clicked shut, steeling herself again for a moment, then going up the three wide, smooth white steps to the double doors, both with opulent knobs made of embossed gold; she hesitated, unsure of the etiquette; do I knock? Kenzie reached out and turned one of the knobs, apprehensively, peeking her head slowly into the interior of the house. Inside, it was as opulent a place as she had ever seen; if Duncan’s penthouse was spotless, you could eat a steak off the floor of the foyer of this house; Kenzie felt immediately far too ordinary to be here; too flawed, too insecure, and far too human. She toyed with the idea of running out, waving Samuel down and speeding off. But that, of course, was impossible.

A woman came towards her, beckoning sternly. She was very tall (probably taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, reminded of Harris) and had hair so blonde it was almost white; it was pulled back into a very tight bun that looked painful to Kenzie, and her face was done up with carefully-applied, subdued makeup, her thin, nude-lipsticked lips pressed together tightly. She wore a very tight, very neat pantsuit in dark gray with low black kitten heels, and she looked very strong, with wide shoulders and hips. “Mackenzie Stone, come here.” Her voice had a slight accent, one that Kenzie couldn’t place. Danish? Swedish? “I am Ingrid. They are in the South Wing.” Kenzie jumped inside, pulling the big door shut behind her; the foyer was eerily quiet but for a huge grandfather clock swinging in one corner. Ingrid beckoning with a short motion again; “Come, now, thank you.”

Kenzie stepped quickly behind the woman, who moved very fast and almost noiselessly; I bet this woman could kill someone easily without ever getting caught, Kenzie thought with a chill. I guess Annette needs people like that around her. Ingrid led her around the right side of the curving double staircase, down a hallway hidden behind it, towards the far end of the mansion; if Duncan has one Bouguereau original, I can’t even contemplate how many of these are authentic, Kenzie thought, gazing around at the paintings that adorned the walls (they seemed to mostly be a mixture of Impressionist and Modern art--but there’s nothing here as beautiful as The Youth of Bacchus, she thought, it’s the most beautiful painting I have ever seen, and my boyfriend OWNS it), the sconces and shelves that held Ming vases and sculptures and china and embossed books. Ingrid turned a corner sharply, then opened a long white door (another embossed gold knob) to a round, wide parlor room, modified to look like a dressing room, with a round dais in the center and several mannequins along one wall, a few very beautiful Regent-style white-and-gold armchairs littered here and there; Kenzie saw Annette stretched languidly in one of them, dressed in a flawless cream-colored wrap dress with a black sash tied at her waist, her perfectly styled hair falling down her shoulder, her expression hidden by the angle, and a man with a very bright floral scarf, a shiny bald head and very long false eyelashes standing with a hip cocked facing the doorway, gesturing at her flamboyantly and telling a story, animatedly.

“--I said honey-bun, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I’m going to do, I tell you what the fuck I’m going to do, then you give me the time I need to fucking do it.” The man cocked his head, batting his lashes. Annette let out a little barking laugh. “Needless to say, I--” The man broke off, noticing Ingrid at the door, and Kenzie hovering behind her.

Annette glanced back. “Oh. Mackenzie. You’re actually on time.”

Uhhhhh. Kenzie’s hands came up to the star necklace, noticing her hand was trembling. What would have happened if I wasn’t?

“Thank you, Ingrid, you can shut the door.”

Ingrid gave Annette a curt nod, and gave Kenzie a long glance as she left, her eyes going from Kenzie’s feet up her body to her hair around her shoulders and down again, a judging glint in her cold eyes. Yep, you got it, I’m fucking Duncan, you’re right, Kenzie thought. Stare away, make sure I have the right genetics and the birthing hips and my boobs are the right size. I wonder what Annette will say when she hears I don’t want to have kids, ha! The door shut behind the woman with a loud, clean click, and the man in the eyelashes came toward Kenzie, pressing his hands theatrically to his cheeks.

“My, my, my, what a little cupcake you are.” He reached for her hands and Kenzie extended her palms into his, her cheeks burning with apprehension. “A little rose petal, a babydoll blooming bud, a teensy slice of delectable red velvet. I’ll bet he’s been nibbling at you night and day.”

“Erik, that’s enough,” Annette said, and Kenzie glanced over to her to see an expression of sharp annoyance in her eyes; whatever mirth may have been on Annette’s face a moment ago was gone, replaced with a calculating neutrality.

“Lord, Annette, as if you can’t see why he’s absolutely head-over-heels.” Erik rolled his eyes, letting Kenzie go, giving her a little wink that Annette couldn’t see from where she sat. Kenzie pressed her lips together tightly, trying not to smile. I like him. “She’s like a tiny little princess in a fairy tale. Snow White. Rose Red. Princess Peach. I’m Erik, sweet thing. And you’re Mackenzie. And this is Annette--oh, you knew that, of course.” Erik turned to Annette, giving her a long look and a coy smile.

“Mackenzie, come here, we have a lot of work to do and I have a meeting at 3,” Annette said to her curtly, standing up and beckoning to the dais. “Erik needs to take your measurements, and then we need to discuss a color palette.”

“I’m thinking mod,” Erik gestured vaguely towards Kenzie’s hips, flicking his wrist. “Like Edie Sedgwick at a Renaissance fair.” Annette made an exasperated noise from the back of her throat as Kenzie came up beside her, heart pounding, and grasped Kenzie’s arm suddenly with a tight, pinching grip, pushing her onto the dais. “Measurements, please, Erik. Mackenzie, hold still.”

Erik spent the next ten minutes or so pressing a measuring tape along Kenzie’s body as she moved as he told her to; Kenzie looked down from Annette’s appraising gaze, which seemed as cold and heavy as ice; she tried to remember the warmth that had spread around the table over dinner last night, but it slipped away from her, just beyond her grasp; without Duncan there, Kenzie felt lost inside her doubt, caught in the approximate, austere eyes of his mother. I doubt those comments from Erik helped warm her heart to me today, Kenzie thought, exasperated. Her stomach felt sour and she contemplated asking for a glass of water, but Annette’s frown deterred her. She remembered Annette didn’t know she’d moved into Duncan’s penthouse yet; oh fuck, she’s really gonna love that one. Annette’s quietness unnerved her--who knew what Duncan’s mother was thinking behind her dark-well eyes. Erik fussed over her, as if to fill the silence between them: “Look at your tiny little hourglass! Those hips, my dear, absolutely to die for. A pity you’re not a little taller, then again, Madeline was never known for her height, was she. How is she these days, by the way?”

“Very well, thanks for asking.” Kenzie’s eyes slid to Annette, who raised her eyebrows, then back to Erik, who was pressing the measuring tape along her bust with careful precision; he had clearly done this a thousand times before her, and his interest in her breasts was completely non-existent beyond the practicality of his duties. “She’s retired now. We had a wonderful time with her the other night.” She looked at Annette again for a moment, seeing the angry flash in the other woman’s eyes; kicking the hornet’s nest, Kenz, she scolded herself, but it was too late; heat was rising behind her temples. I am good enough for your son, Annette. You may never think so, but that doesn’t fucking matter. You’re going to accept me eventually because your son loves me and that’s not going to change. This is our destiny. He said so himself to me. He knows it too. I may not be the trust-fund heiress to an oil company in Texas you would have chosen for him, but I’m the one for him, tough shit.

Erik seemed to have finished his measurements, taking note of them on a little yellow notepad with a fountain pen in his manicured fingers; “Annette, what do you think for colors. I’m thinking black and white with a gold embellishment.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Annette said, her tone biting. She sat in the armchair facing Kenzie, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form; half-full of resentment, half a simmering superiority.

“Ummmmm,” Erik said, rolling his eyes a little again. “Honey, you’re the one who insisted she do this with you in the first place.” Kenzie gave him a grateful look.

“Mackenzie, I hope you understood how serious I was last night,” Annette said, ignoring Erik. Kenzie bit into the inside of her cheek, willing herself to stay calm. “If you are offered another article in the nature of the one published on Friday, you will turn it down.”

“Annette, with all due respect, I’m a journalist working for a liberal publication. I’m not a Republican, and dating Duncan doesn’t suddenly make me a centrist. Maybe you should ask Duncan what he really wants for the company in the first place, since he’s going to be helping you run it soon.” The words tumbled out of her, and Kenzie immediately bit her lip, fumbling her hands together. Oh fuck, Kenz. What was that.

A cold pallor fell over Annette’s face; it made Kenzie’s blood chill in her veins. Erik’s mouth snapped shut and he raised his eyebrows, a little hiss of air escaping his lips. Annette sat up very straight in the chair, setting her hands on the armrests with her fingers tightly curled. “He told you that, did he,” she hissed.

“Yes. We’re together now. I deserve to know about his life.” Kenzie tried to quell the tremble that had started in her hands; adrenaline pumped through her, making her feel as though she’d just taken a hit of weed. “You seem determined to hate me, Annette, but I don’t hate you at all. I wish you could see that Duncan doesn’t want what you want; that he’s sensitive and good and kind and wants to be surrounded by real things, beautiful things. He just wants to be loved, just wants to love--and we love each other. Why would you try to deny him of that?”

“I don’t have time for this today.” Annette stood, eyes blazing. “Mackenzie, if you speak a word of what Duncan has told you to anyone, I will make sure you seriously regret it. Erik, get her a fucking dress, I don’t give a shit what it looks like. Give her a fucking brown bag to wear for all I care.” She stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

“Oh, honey, you are Madeline Stone’s daughter, aren’t you?” Erik turned to Kenzie, a grin falling over his features, his long eyelashes batting at her. “She had that coming; and you have nerves of steel.”

“Not really feeling like it at the moment,” Kenzie said, voice audibly shaking. Now that she had started to come down from the adrenaline, she felt woozy and sick.

“So, what do you want to wear?” He pressed a finger to the side of his face.

Kenzie tried to clear her head, her mind frenzied and racing from the exchange with Annette; then, like clouds parting to the sun, she thought of the one friend who had been a constant in her life since they were in middle school; their friendship carrying her through high school and shitty jobs and college and a breakup and her bumpy first year at the Post when her self-doubt had been at an all-time high. Clairebear. Morgan Winthrop.

“My...my best friend Claire. She works for a designer. Morgan Winthrop.”

“Oh, honey, I know Morgan. We go way back. We used to go to Studio 54 together. You want Morgan to make your dress?”

“I--Yes. Yes I do.” Kenzie tossed her head back, pushing her chin out. To hell with this. It’s my life and my relationship and if I have to go to this Gala, I want to wear what I want to wear. The theme is based on me after all. Gold in the darkness. He said it was based on me. That it’s for me. It’s me.

“Darling, I think that’s marvelous.” Erik tucked his head down to her conspiratorially. “I can see why you’d be drawn to Morgan’s aesthetic. And I think she’d know just what to do for you. A little birdy told me Duncan based the theme on you, a little slice of starlight--little golden moonbeam that you are. I’ve never seen him this way. You’ve gotten down under his skin, babydoll. You’re in the soul of him, now.”

“So...you’ll help me?”

“Darling. In a minute. I want to see that boy happy. And Annette does, too. She just needs to realize that. With your help, I have a sneaky suspicion that won’t take as long as one might have thought. You’re a bold little burst of fresh air.”

Kenzie hopped down from the dias, heart pounding, and went to the armchair where she’d placed her convertible bag, pulling her phone in its gold case out, opening her contacts to Clairebear. She hit the call button, raising the phone to her ear. Claire picked up after two rings. “Hello, Kenzie? Is everything okay?”

“Clairebear, I need your help. I need Morgan’s help. I need Morgan to make my dress for the Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala. And I need it to be the most amazing fucking dress of all time.”

[peaches-of-1]

How the Jinch Stole Christmas

A Grinch!AU where Jennie tries to steal Christmas but three sisters and a town full of Whos change her mind.

Jennie Kim was resting as she often did this time around this perfect time called noon. However, the sound of carols and jingle bells woke her up all too soon. Oh the sounds of Christmas cheer, it made her flinch, but what else do you expect from one the Whos called the Jinch? She took her face mask off and threw it down. What were the Whos doing in their wretched little town?

Looking at her calendar and seeing all the crossed off dates. Jennie realized that it was the one that she decided to most hate. It was Christmas Eve and everything was bustling. Here and there and everywhere the townspeople where hustling. The last bit of decorations, bobbles and trim. Little did they know that the Jinch’s patience had at last grew wayyyy too thin.

“They’re hanging their stockings and making it bright.” The Jinch scoffed and sneered. “This doesn’t feel right. How is Christmas Day already so near? Three hundred and sixty four days of silence could never replace all the noise noise noise once everything that the holiday spirit held is perfectly in place!”

She imagined the toys and joys that would be given to the girls and poise and then, and then all the noise! Noise! NOISE!

The beeps and clangs from all technological thangs.

The youngers would get all the things with spinny spinning wheels.

So many Whos would go click clack in their brand new heels.

They’d gather in bunches and talk talk talk while at all the new things and lights they’ll continue to look at and gawk

They’ll probably play jenga while others read manga, falling wood on tables abound.

They’ll dance wearing tressingles. Face full of makoloos.

They’ll drink their sojingles. Happy to listen to foolaroos.

They’ll pop and cheer and cherish everything that’s dear.

And the Jinch didn’t want to hear any of that this year.

“Kuma, my darling.” She said to her yapping precious pup. “I know hate it too, isn’t the constant silence enough?”

Jennie picked up her dog with chocolate floofy hair that covered his whole body and made him look like a tiny grizzlie bear. Then she gave him kisses because he was the only thing she would ever love.

“I need a way to ruin Christmas. If only an answer came from above!” Eyes up to the sky, she waited for the perfect plot. But did a miracle happen and squash the Christmas spirit and turn off the awful Christmas music?

It did not.

So the Jinch sighed and slammed her door shut, but then the cute little darling heard a small sound that hit her right in the gut. Her Kuma had run outside to play in the snow.

“Quickly, back to the door I must go!”

Jennie threw open the door and could not see her Kuma anywhere and that was because her brown fur and become way too fair. He blended in with the snow itself for when the door was shut, the white flakes came from the roof to make a very sudden hut. The dog was ok since it’s fur kept it warm, so he shook most of it off. There was no cause for alarm. Most of it came off, except from his chin.

But the image in front of her made the Jinch give a wicked grin. Bringing her pup inside, her brain and arms began her most mischievous plan. As if there was anything she knew about Christmas is that it all depended on one very very fat man with cheeks so red it could start a fire. Jennie searched her closet to see if she could create the right holiday attire. After some time and some sewing and snipping, our Jinch knew she had the perfect outfit.

She chuckled to herself, “Once I’m done with them, the Who’s won’t know what went missing.”

The Jinch used the white curtains to make a beard for her face. After smiling in the mirror to herself, she made sure everything else was in place. Using the cases from the pillows she would usually rest her head, she used the pillows themselves to make it look as though as if she had been extremely well fed. The pillow cases were sewn together to make the Jolly Man’s sack where all the Christmas trinkets would be stored after her night long attack. There was a sleigh in the backyard that she had decided to use. She had stolen it last year since the town when the town got a bigger one and said that this one was old news.

There was just one thing missing that Santa had and that she lacked. That was a reindeer that obeyed every time the whip was cracked. Though, the big man didn’t have a whip and neither did she. The only thing that she had was her hot cocoa colored puppy. Kuma needed an antler, a tree branch would do. She made it so the twig would stay put and off they flew.

Into the town, they slithered and stole. By the end of the night, the Jinch would have made the Whos pay a very big toll. Into the first house the grumpy girl snuck and made it so that all of the stockings from the fireplace became unstuck. After getting everything into the sack and out the window, there was only one thing left in this house that had to go. The pink tinsel Christmas tree with decorations placed with care. The Jinch started to tie it up, but something made her stop right there.

“Santa, that you?” A voice slightly muffled made Jennie the Jinch jump in fright.

It was nothing but a tired who eating in the middle of the night. A rice cake was hanging out of her mouth. Jennie had to think of something quick, or the plan would go south. She swallowed the treat all the way down.

Then she looked that the supposed Santa and started to frown, “I’m Rosé. You’re Santa cuz you’re fat. Oh wait, Santa Claus, why are you messing with our tree like that?”

“Well you see, my dear.” The impersonator fibbed. “You got the wrong tree. This one has already been dibbed. Don’t worry, my child, I’ll bring you a new one. I promise, I promise, it’ll be perfectly done.”

Before the Jinch could finish his nightly chore, another tired Who made her way through the empty corridor. This one had very dark hair unlike her sister with locks quite fair. Both had on pink sweaters so soft and cozy. Jennie really hated people like this who were nosy.

“This is Lisa, she’s younger than me.”

This Lisa girl worried too, “What are you doing with our tree?”

“Your tree belongs to another, so keeping it would be wrong. But I cross my heart dear, your tree won’t be gone long. I’ll take this tree to the correct house and put the correct one in this exact place.”

Rosé nodded, a new treat passing her lips. Hearing new footsteps, Jennie couldn’t believe that wasn’t the end of all the nighttime trips. A girl with hair in a very messy bedtime bun came into the living room to join in to all the fun.

“Why are you out of bed? What did you get up to do?”

Lisa introduced the girl, “This is our big sister Jisoo.”

The situation was explained once again and they all said it was fine. The Jinch promised to have it have their new tree set up before it was nine. And so the three girls went back to bed with tired eyes and promises and a craving that had been fed. Jennie sighed and said that was close before she finished emptying all the other Who houses in their neat little rows. All the toys they went into her sack. As if she would keep her promise of it ever coming back. For her plan was the throw it off the edge of her mountain home, and she couldn’t wait for the the whole town of Whoville to whine and bemoan.

When it was all done, she did just that. Jennie couldn’t wait to get out of her accursed Christmas hat. She leaned in and listened just as the dawn was breaking because she knew it was around this time that the whole town would be awaking. She waited for them to see that Christmas was gone with their gifts and decorations. The Jinch couldn’t wait to hear their cries. However instead of whining and complaining about what had gone missing, Jennie just couldn’t believe her eyes.

All the Whos down in Whoville gathered around the tree and began to sing a carol about friends and family. That’s when Jennie realized it wasn’t about gifts and trinkets or any of those things. What mattered really was the togetherness that the Christmas season brings. The Jinch realized that Christmas wasn’t something you could steal. It was what mattered in one’s hearts of hearts. It was about what one could feel.

Speaking of hearts, Jennie felt hers beat. She felt guilty and bad about what she had done, it really wasn’t neat. And so she pull the gifts back from ledge before it went over. Our beautiful and sweet girl followed what her inner goodness told her. She brought back the gifts, and trees, and decorations alike. Then someone gave their own gift to her, what she always wanted, a bike! Real festivities bagan and everyone forgave only on one condition that Jisoo layed out.

“From now on, you behave.”

“I promise I’ll be good. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. It just seemed that even without me that you could have so much fun.”

Lisa honest and told her what they thought, “We always sent you an invitation, but it seemed like you always forgot.”

Jennie was glad things were cleared up and everything was fine. The townspeople also invited their new friend to join them and dine. Everyone got a plate piled up with food and even fluffy Kuma was in a happy mood.

So Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight. Oh wait, oh wait, that isn’t the ending for this one, right?

[softboywriting]

Heal Me // Doctor!Shawn (A Soulmate AU) Part 4

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“Why didn’t you go to your appointment today?” Shawn asks as he walks into your bedroom. No, it’s not yours. It’s the guest room. You were his guest. “I asked if you needed a ride and you said you had one. Why didn’t you go?” He sounds angry? Concerned? Upset?

“My ride fell through. I was going to reschedule but-”

“You didn’t reschedule right away? Did you call and say you weren’t going to make it?” His arms are crossed and he’s standing, weight shifted to the left, a very defensive pose. Why was he getting all upset? It wasn’t as if you weren’t living with a medical professional who kept tabs on you every day. It wasn’t like it was a big deal that some other doctor didn’t get to look at your leg. Shawn was more than enough, you thought.

“Shawn, I called but they had no openings this week. I said I would call back tomorrow after I found out when you would be available to take me,” you speak calmly, voice soft and level as to not irritate him any further. “My sister’s car was hit by a snow plow. She won’t be taking me anywhere for a while.”

“Oh,” Shawn runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He paces just inside the doorway, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “Sorry I snapped at you. It’s been a long day, I shouldn’t make excuses though. I should have let you finish talking.” He looks over at you and you just smile a little at him. It was interesting, getting to see what he was like when he wasn’t actively trying to be perfect. “I can take you whenever. I don’t have any meetings and I’ll just be doing early morning rotations in the ER on Monday and Wednesday. The rest of the week I’m going to be working over nights as a back up in the trauma ward.”

“I hate over nights,” you mumble.

Shawn smirks and takes a step toward you. “You hate overnights because.....?”

You shrug. There was no way you were going to tell him it was because you hated being alone in his house at night. That you would miss him making you tea before bed and watching Cake Boss reruns until it was after midnight. Because that was becoming a thing you really enjoyed. “They just suck,” you say and he laughs.

“You’re not the one that has to work them!” He comes over and sits down next to you on the bed. “I think you hate them because you’ll miss me.”

“Yeah right.” You roll your eyes. The pink tint to your cheeks gives you away though. He knows you like him. “What is there to miss?”

He looks appalled. “Uh, excuse me, I am very missable.”

“Hmm, I don’t see where.” You look at him and then look around him and laugh, “Yeah, you’re too big to miss.”

“Not what I meant,” he groans and you giggle, knowing you’re getting under his skin. “You’re such a little shit.” You smile big and he pushes you back on the bed, falling back to lay with you. “For real. Why don’t you like my overnights?”

“It’s weird being alone in a place that isn’t mine.”

Shawn looks over and you’re looking up at the ceiling. He bumps his hand against yours and you clench your jaw, tamping down a little squeal of excitement that nearly escaped you. “It could be your place. If you wanted.”

“Are you asking me to move in?” Your heart is racing. This is a little crazy. No. This is a lot crazy. Sure, you really liked Shawn’s place and you really liked spending time with him and talking to him. But moving in, like for real? That was some advanced relationship level stuff. Not two and a half weeks stuff. The idea seems crazy logically but your heart says it’s perfect and you want nothing more than to wake up and see him every day. You think it must be because you know he’s your soulmate and you must be projecting your dreams on to him. This sort of thing doesn’t happen and doesn’t work out. You realize he hasn’t replied and you’ve been lost in your own thoughts. “Shawn?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He covers his face with his hand that isn’t touching yours.

You hook your pinky finger with his and he lifts his head to look down at your hands together. “It’s okay. You just got caught up in the moment.”

“Isn’t that when the truth really comes out?” he asks quietly.

“Might be.” You look over and he’s staring at you, a smile on his face. He looks so cute like this, so boyish, not at all like the grown ass drop dead gorgeous doctor he really was. It makes you feel like you have butterflies in your stomach, knowing that this was something you would get to see as often as you liked if you were a couple.

Shawn curls his pinky into yours and says, “We should take a look at that leg, since you missed your appointment and all.”

You wake up in the middle of the night a few days later. The power is out and you can tell by the eerie silence in the house. No background hum of the furnace, no quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, nothing but dead air filling every room. It’s strange, the noises you are used to hearing when you think things are actually quiet. You sit up and look around the room, it’s dark but not pitch black, the lights outside reflecting off the snow outside creates a dim glow about the bedroom. There’s a storm going on and it’s loud. The winds practically roaring around the trees and homes, snow flying every which way. Whether it's falling from the sky, being kicked up off the ground or falling from rooftops, you couldn’t tell. Everything was white as far as you could see out the window from the bed.

“Are you awake?” you hear Shawn ask from just beyond your door. He pushes it open and walks in, careful not to trip on his own two feet. “Do you know how long it’s been out?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I just got up. I think the wind woke me up.” The window rattles violently and you jump, gripping the blankets, eyes snapping to it. Shawn walks over and makes sure the lock is tight, pushing it in hard and flipping down the little locking mechanism on top. The last thing anyone needed was a window blowing open in a storm like this. “Do you think the basement would be warmer?” you ask as he turns to you.

“Definitely. We should get down there before it gets too cold up here. The couch has a pull out bed in the den,” Shawn says and comes to stand beside the bed. “I’ll have to carry you down.”

“O-oh. I’m sure I could make it if I scooted down the steps?”

“I am not letting you scoot down the stairs in the dark. Speaking of which, I need to get some flashlights for us, my phone isn’t bright enough. Stay here.”

You laugh and throw your hands up comically, “Oh yeah, cuz I’m gonna get up and walk away.”

Shawn laughs and leaves the room to go get some flashlights from a utility drawer. He returns with a bag of candles and a single flashlight. “I swear I have five flashlights somewhere but of course I can only find one.” He tosses it to you and you flip it on. It’s one of those really bright LED bar light kind. It illuminates a good portion of the room. Shawn hands you the bag of candles and stands beside you.

“Are you going to be able to lift me?” you ask nervously as his arm comes around your back. “I’m not like super light or anyTHING!” He lifts you up with ease, surprising you, one arm around your back and the other under your knees. You’re pressed against his chest and holding the light down against your stomach. You lay your head against his shoulder. It feels so intimate and you lose yourself in the moment until-

“The light, honey,” Shawn says softly and you lift the light up. “Thanks, wouldn’t want to accidentally drop you.”

“Y-yeah.”

Shawn carries you out of the guest room and to the living room where the door to the basement was. He’s careful as he steps down each stair and you hold on to him, arms around his neck, fearing he could accidentally lose his footing at any moment and send you sprawling. Twelve suspenseful steps later and you’re in the basement. It’s still very warm and from what you can see it’s spacious, fully finished, and it looks like another living room but slightly smaller. There are two doors on the left of the staircase and another along the far wall. “There’s a bathroom down here, so we don’t have to worry about making a trip upstairs for that,” Shawn says as he carries you into the room.

“I hope the storm passes soon,” you say as Shawn lays you down carefully on the couch. He hums in agreement as he starts setting up candles all over and lighting them with a lighter he had in the bag as well. Soon the room is bathed in a soft orange glow and Shawn turns the flashlight off, setting it on the coffee table he dragged aside so he could pull out the bed from the secondary couch.

“Do you mind sharing the bed with me?” he asks as he locks the legs of the fold out bed in place. He goes to one of the doors beside the stairs, a closet it seems, and pulls some blankets and pillows out of it.

“I don’t think so? Why would I?” You are glad he can’t see your face as you say this. It would have given you away so hard. Of course you would mind. He was huge and cuddly and he smelled good and he was everything you ever dreamed of. How could you not mind?

“You’re not worried about me bumping your leg?” Oh. There was that. He comes over to you after a moment and squats down in front of you on the floor. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally kick it and have you be in pain.”

The way the light reflects off his skin makes him look otherworldly. He’s all soft looking with his dark eyes, tousled dark hair, and cute concerned look upon his face and he stares up at you. “I think I’ll be alright. You wrapped it really well. I haven’t had any problems.”

Shawn nods and hums. The next thing you know he wraps his hands around your thigh, well, mostly around your thigh, and he’s looking up at you. “How’s it feel?” he asks and you can almost see his cheeks flush bright red as he realizes what he’s said to you and how suggestive it sounded. “I mean your leg. Is it cold?”

You wiggle your toes a little, trying to get a sense of how it felt. “Um, I’m not sure? I’m a little chilly all over?”

“Do you mind if I-” Shawn lifts the hem of your borrowed sleep pants. They’re a pair of his and they’re really loose around your legs. You nod, letting him lift the pant leg up over your cast, bunching it up around your mid thigh. He slides his hand over your knee and cups the bit of your calf that isn’t covered with bandages. “It’s pretty cold. Do you mind if I try to get the blood circulating a bit?”

You aren’t sure how much blood he’s going to get to circulate because you’re pretty sure it’s all run to your face and between your legs. The way his hand was resting on your thigh and the other one around your calf had you so turned on you couldn’t think straight. “Can it be cold?”

“I would prefer it wasn’t. I don’t want to have any circulatory problems with it if it gets too cold. That’s the last thing you need. I asked if you wouldn’t mind because what I want to do may seem a little intimate.”

“I- uh...what are you going to do?

Shawn slides your pant leg back down over your cast and then puts his hands on your leg. “I’ll need to massage your thigh, stroking downward toward your knee. I might massage up here too,” he touches your hip and the side of your pelvic bone,” I promise, no funny business.”

“I know. Alright, go ahead.”

Shawn picks you up bridal style again and moves you to the couch bed. It’s almost like a dream the way the candles are lighting up the room, Shawn is laying you on the bed, his hands soon to be all over you. If this was your honeymoon, you might have died. But it wasn’t. It was a snowstorm and your leg was getting colder by the second. “Let me know if I hurt you,” he says, kneeling on the bed next to you and putting his hands around your thigh. He strokes downward, applying light pressure and then goes back to the top and starts again. He does this over and over again, his fingers coming close to the heat between your legs. There is no way he doesn’t feel how hot you are for him.

“Does it feel better?” he asks.

“Y-yeah?”

Shawn slides his hands up, fingers rubbing gently down your hip and your groin to your leg. You let out a soft moan and he freezes, hands on your hip. “Did that hurt?”

“N-no. I think it’s fine. You can stop.”

“Oh,” he says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “Oh I see. I’m sorry I should have realized you might get turned on.”

You flush red with embarrassment. He can’t tell in the dim light, but you hide your face anyways. “I should get some sleep,” you mumble into the pillow you’ve put over your face. “Goodnight.” You roll on your side and try to ignore Shawn as he crawls to the other side of the bed and pulls a blanket up over the two of you. He chuckles and you groan softly into the pillow.