#and midas followed soon after :)

[popfizzles]

would anyone like to hazard a guess to which of my Violet Pokemon reached level 100 first

[ahhnini]

midas touch - rafe cameron x fashionista!reader

synopsis - based off this ask!

moodboard ⋆·˚ ༘ *

word count - 1.4k

warnings - oblivious!reader, bestfriend!rafe, flirting (from rafe), alcohol consumption, fluff, slow burn, not proofread!

a/n - i diverged a little from the request, but i hope you still enjoy! <3

you snap a mirror pic of your outfit for the day, putting up a caption, then uploading it to your instagram story. you fix any wrinkles from your outfit before heading outside to meet up with your friends.

“there’s our little influencer,” kelce says as you enter the cameron household. you smile and roll your eyes playfully, sitting down on the couch, “to be fair, I never thought my account was gonna get popular,” you shrug before continuing, “but it does feel nice knowing that people around the world like my outfits.” rafe comes through the back door, four beers in his hand. “we still waiting for top?” “yeah, should be on his way, though,” kelce replies as he puts an arm around your shoulder. rafe hands you a beer while you lean on kelce’s shoulder. you don’t miss the look rafe gives you. his gaze becoming sharp. you clear your throat as you open the can and take a swig.

as soon as topper arrives, the hangout officially begins. this was a tradition between you four, once a week you would hang out at each other’s houses.

this “tradition” started a long time ago. at first, it was just you and rafe. you remember how he defended you from your bullies, how he had been so selfless, despite everyone saying he was the opposite. you remember how his kind blue eyes would glance at you during homeroom, to make sure you were all right. you noticed how during lunch he would sit in close proximity to you, just in case anyone would try to be a bother.

you were shy when you asked him if he wanted to hang out with you outside of school for the first time. fingers fidgeting, voice soft and eyes looking down. you thought he was gonna laugh in your face, but when he said yes, you felt something spark in your heart.

rafe eventually became friends with topper and kelce, and the four of you clicked together like missing pieces in a puzzle. the summer after you graduated high school, you started a fashion account on instagram. posting various outfits, recommendations, and making get ready with me vlogs. you were hesitant, but the guys assured you that you had nothing to worry about. they were right, and everyone absolutely loves the content that you post.

after your account started blowing up, people from the obx found out and started following you. it made you slightly insecure at first, thinking they had been following you to poke fun at your content. but when you realized that you had started setting fashion trends across the island, that insecurity dissolved.

topper jumps off the roof into the cameron pool, splashing the three of you. “so stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head and smiling at him as he swims to the surface.

midnight struck, you were outside with a blanket wrapped around you. you all sat in a circle, eating takeout while gossiping — yes, gossiping, about the new family that moved into figure eight. it was the guys’ guilty pleasure, though they’d never admit it.

you scoffed at their endless conspiracies, deciding to just listen. you take a deep breath, crisp air hitting your nostrils. topper and kelce stand up, announcing that they’re going home. you, however, don’t want the night to end, so you ask rafe if you can stay over. thankfully, he says “yes, of course.”

both of you snuggle on the couch, rafe breathing the scent of your hair in as he not so sneakily peeps at your screen. you check your socials, and see that engagement is going up. rafe softly speaks, “how does this work?”

“hm? what do you mean?”

“do you get free stuff?”

“sometimes. but I mainly post things I already have,” you shrug.

rafe makes an ah sound before putting his chin on top of your head.

this felt…intimate. none of the other guys would be this physically close to you. you quickly brush those thoughts away, concluding that rafe is only this close to you because you’ve known him the longest. you put your phone down, leaning against rafe’s chest. this felt so natural for some reason. closing your eyes, you fall asleep, rafe loosely hugging your waist.

the next week, you were sunbathing in the sunny skies of saint-tropez. you had been invited to paris fashion week, and you had some free time after the event. however, you missed your friends, and you were texting them 24/7. you were replying to something topper said in the group chat, when someone approached you. good lord, he was attractive. he smiled at you, pearly whites adorning his face. you swore you could’ve heard church bells ring. “hey, mind if I set up my towel here?,” he asks, voice smooth and sultry.

“go ahead,” you move your sunglasses to the top of your head, taking a good look at him.

“i’m johnny,” he sticks his hand out.

you smile and say your name.

“are you from the states too?” he asks, quirking his head over to the side.

“yeah — north carolina,” you clear your throat, suddenly becoming nervous.

“oh cool, i’m from Illinois,” his eyes run up and down your body, and your cheeks grow red.

you two banter for a couple of minutes, before johnny bites his lip, as he asks for your number.

you smile and give it to him, he does seem like a nice guy after all.

the humidity of the outer banks is painful. turns out, when you came back, there had been a heatwave going on. to add onto that, the ac at your house broke down. so here you were, back at rafe’s, waiting until your cooling system gets fixed.

“how was your trip?” he asks, bringing out popsicles from the fridge and handing one out to you.

you beam at him, “absolutely amazing. I was freaking out over how many designers I met.”

“damn rafe, we don’t get one?” kelce says, laying down on the cold tile floor. “get one yourselves,” rafe gruffly replies.

topper and kelce glance at each other, wiggling their eyebrows. you don’t see it, but rafe does, and he scowls at them.

topper calls out your name again,“why’d you stop texting us halfway through our trip?”

“yeah, did you run out of data or something?” kelce questions.

“um—yeah, so…” you trail off, looking at the ground. “I met someone, and we really hit it off,” you smile, and the two boys make an ooooh sound, teasing. you continue, “yeah, we’ve been talking for a week now, and he seems like a chill guy,” you chuckle. “so sorry I ghosted you guys.” “you’re good, just, rafe was gettin’ all pissy when you wouldn’t answer,” topper sprawls across the tile. “shut up, top,” rafe groans.

“c’mon, don’t act like you were about to hop on a plane yourself to go visit her,” you giggle at topper’s teasing. you found it endearing that rafe cares about you so much. guess he’s still the same boy after all these years.

“rafe, I hate him!” you scream into your pillow. “I know sweetheart,” rafe gently rubs your back, sighing. after a month of talking, you and johnny decided to meet up again. in new york. it was stupid, meeting up with a guy you’ve met in real life once. he played you, hard. he had completely flaked on the meet up itself and ghosted you. money wasted and heart broken, you sulked on your bed.

“am I stupid, rafe?” you ask, tears staining your cheeks. “no, sweetheart. a bit oblivious, yes. stupid, definitely not.”

you sniffle, rafe handing you a tissue.

rafe whispers, “i’ll beat his ass for breakin’ your heart.” you know he didn’t mean it, but you shake your head regardless. sitting up, you face him, “he doesn’t deserve your time anyway.” he smiles, eyes crinkling, “that’s the spirit.”

there’s a sparkle in his eyes. without knowing it, you lean closer to him. you feel him breathe, soft breaths hitting your face. you don’t stop, tilting your head and pressing your lips against his. oh god, what have you done?

he kisses back, arms wrapping around your waist. your mind moves a million miles per hour. you tangle your hands in his hair as he lays you down, crawling on top of you.

“are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? you know, our relationship’s gonna change after this, no going back,” he says breathlessly.

he’s so beautiful. taking a deep breath in, you blissfully say,

“yes.”

divider by sseuda on tumblr

[loupy-mongoose]

The journey was long.

Vast seas, ending in the same blue-to-blue horizon wherever they looked.

Randy led the Linden party guided by the compass he held. Without stars, this was what they had.

They passed the time by talking. Singing. Playing games. Sometimes chatting with Wingull flocks they passed. Sometimes Akoya and Persim transformed and dove in to snatch up a fish snack.

While mostly they flew, sometimes they teleported. They couldn't do it too much as it could cause the Mews--usually Randy--To get queasy.

Akoya, and less often Persim, also transformed into large water type Pokemon, like Lapras, to give them all a break from the monotony of flying. It also offered the babies a chance to stretch their legs and get some activity.

They traveled for several hours. Perzi woke from a nap to find Lav asleep, and Randy draped over her. He was watching the three kits sleep with glazed eyes.

Hey, Mate. Want me to take a turn watching?

The thin Mew blinked at him, seemingly remembering that he was even there. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a yawn came out.

That's a yes. Catch a nap, Randy. I got 'em.

Randy seemed hesitant, but soon his look turned grateful. Thanks, Perz... He stretched his arms, then folded them under his head and promptly fell asleep.

After a little while, the kits began to wake up. Midas was easy enough. He didn't move around much, apparently resistant to waking. Rosie wandered around on the limited zone of Akoya's shell. But she was careful and didn't go far enough to fall.

Momo was the one to watch. Since she was confidently flying, Perzi had to keep a close eye on her, and wrangle her back if she decided to stray. But she was enjoying this "game" she was playing with Uncle Perzi so it was easy enough!

WARNING: The following comic contains child endangerment

Akoya plowed ahead with new urgency. Her family huddled on her back, gathered around Perzi and little Rosemary.

I'm so sorry, Rosie... I'm so sorry...

The little Mew shivered in her fathers hands as he held her close to his chest. Occasionally she let out uncomfortable twitters.

Randy, I... Persim's face was a mask of horror and guilt. I... I-I feel horrible. This... Th-this shouldn't h-have happened... I... Sh-she didn't...

Randy put his arm around the devastated Mew. Try not to worry about it, Persim. Let's try to keep calm so she can be.

Persim trembled under Randy's arm. As much as he might be angry at Perzi for letting this happen at all, the ache in his heart trumped it.

Thank you, Randy.

His ear twitched. He dared not turn his head for fear of smacking the distraught Mew with his muzzle.

If it weren't for you, she... He silenced, and shut his eyes, spilling tears down his cheeks.

Randy said nothing, and held him tighter.

Land!!

Their shiny Lapras mount jolted forward, and the riders fought to stay upright.

They watched as the spotted landmass slowly grew larger, signaling their eminent arrival in Hoenn...

And help for Rosie...

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START

...I'mma... go hide in a corner now.

Note: Randy's ring isn't present on purpose. He packed it away so he didn't lose it.

[midasslave1]

MIDAS ENTERPRISES

Are pleased to announce their newest and world changing venture in 2024 or anytime........

The amazing MIDAS family have achieved the improbable and developed the technology to travel back to any point of history we have chosen and remarkably met and negotiated with historical figures themselves to ensure you get your moneys worth, you may never want to come back.

Choose to travel back to civilizations that first discovered the alluring effect gold has and what kind of impact in the future as we know it.

CHOOSE FROM THE FOLLOWING TRAVEL DESTINATIONS AND TIME

ANCIENT EGYPTIAN GETAWAY

We have 3 fantastic experiences at the birthplace of mankinds fascination with this amazing hunk of metal for you to choose.

Meet Cleopatra herself - Her beauty will leave you literally breathless

Spend the day with a sexy Pharoah and despite never being lonely in bed , will dedicate the whole day to you and maybe hes after a soul partner.

Be close up and personal and witness the fine detail the mighty jackal god of the afterlife Anubis go through a mock weighing of the heart vs feather test.

ANCIENT ROMAN EXPERIENCE

Visit Neros Goldenhouse - where you will be showered with attention.

Or choose to dine with Nero and his senators where you be the guest of honour and the centre of attention.

Become a gladiator for the day and meet the mighty Julius Caesar ,be his champion in the arena.

SPARTAN ARMY SPECTACULAR

Become Spartacus and lead the mighty spartan army into battle, feel the excitement of wearing his golden battle armour.

RASPUTIN RUSSIAN RENDEZVOUS

Travel back to pre-revolution Russia and learn and witness the "mad monk " Rasputins mind control on a volunteer for your amusement. Maybe he will include you also.

AZTEC ALTAR ADVENTURE

Admire the ancient and sacred tradition of a golden sacrifice to their gods

Or...

Immerse yourself in the golden pool of sacrifice that the Aztecs use to dunk the chosen sacrifical adult male in bubbling liquid gold to appease the gods for the coming of the sun period.

MAGNIFICENT MAYAN MOMENTS

Feel the dark atmosphere and splendour of the golden mask as the Mayan priests seal a sacrifice into the mask with molten liquid gold. Maybe they will let you feel the weight of the mask and be part of rhis magical but eerie ritual.

MANY MORE TIME LOCATIONS WILL

BE ANNOUNCED AS WE NEGOTIATE.

suggestions are being taken ... must obviously be gold related and the theme of the travel is to experience the mystique and wonder of the time period and environment you find yourself in.

We hope to see you sign up real soon...

This is a once in a lifetime chance you just cant miss....

Stay for the time travel itself is limited to 24 hours... We cant guarantee your 100% safety ,this being a travel at your own risk due to the reallife dangers you may encounter.

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CALL NOW 1800 6239-64327

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[in-amor-veritas]

Hey hey,

For the Spotify wrapped drabble what about 44 x Wilmon

Hi you!!! 💕💕

You got

Midas: Skott

have some of my angel/demon forbidden love wilmon

Sunlight catches in iridescent curls, turns them from a dark and sumptuous umber to molten bronze. Wilhelm traces his lovers features with an outstretched finger, over his high brow, the cut of his cheeks, the point of his jaw, the bow of his full lips.

Simon sleeps, or pretends to sleep. His skin twitches beneath the ghost like touch as Wilhelm watches in fascination, transfixed by the imperfections of his mortal form, the way they serve only to make him even more achingly beautiful.

It’s times like these when he considers it—finding one of the fallen who can strip them of their celestial bodies, hide here on earth from the eyes of heaven and hell and live out together the brief span of mortal life like the humans do. Just barely a whisper in time.

With no responsibilities, no empire to serve, no one to answer to, no rules to govern him any longer.

Just him and Simon. The two of them slipping out from the reach of above and below.

He’s turning these thoughts over in his head when he feels a light touch, slim fingers curled around his wrist.

“How long has it been?” Simon murmurs. His voice runs over Wilhelm’s ears like water, smooth and cool and deep. Familiar and soothing.

Meeting like this, on earth in these bodies is the only way they can see one another, the only way they can be together. Since the dawn of time their kind have been at war, even with the uneasy truce held since the last great cataclysm. Officially they stick to their realms, unofficially however there is a long tradition of espionage, subterfuge and of course unauthorized contact between the envoys of heaven and servants of hell.

Wilhelm had met Simon first at the end of a spear and second with a hand stretched out to steady him as the other had stumbled from his first taste of mortal wine.

And from that moment on he had been a dead man walking.

“We still have some time.” Wilhelm speaks, pleased at the way Simon shivers when his breath fans over his skin.

“But never enough.” Simon’s voice wavers.

That won’t do. He won’t send his lover away sad. Wilhelm pulls him in, slides a leg between Simon’s and nuzzles into his jawline, his neck, kissing him, teeth grazing the little beating pulse point that sits higher up.

And Simon lets him, trusts him implicitly. Wilhelm could have killed him, it would be so easy, their bodies are so soft and vulnerable like this. He’s like a small bird in the palm of his hand, warm and feather light.

But the thought of hurting him, of marring his beautifully imperfect skin, of betraying him when he’s taken this long to earn his trust—Wilhelm could never do that. Would burn alive any person or being that tried.

Instead he moves down his body, drawing a sigh from his lips as he places a kiss on the inside of his thighs, up higher on his hipbone, the softness of his belly, his sternum, jaw and finally his lips.

Simon says sometimes he’s obsessed with his body with touching and tasting and biting and maybe he is. Maybe he is because it’s tangible and fills his senses in every way that seems possible. Because like this they are not fearsome and invulnerable and the product of an eternal power struggle. They are vulnerable, weak some would say, but they feel so much. Both in their hearts and their bodies.

“I need to go.” Simon whispers, pulling away from him, “And so do you.”

Wilhelm runs his tongue up a stripe of skin, the place on Simon’s neck where the perspiration begins to collect, such an interesting flavor. “We have time.”

“We don’t.” His lovers voice is amused, with an underlying regret that Wilhelm hates.

But like always, Simon is right. They cannot afford to be gone much longer. There are things to be done after all.

Wilhelm finally pulls back, feels the way Simon’s hands follow, thread into his hair and cup his cheek.

“I will meet you soon. When it’s safe.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He murmurs, petulant, but mostly for show.

“Angels don’t break promises.”

“Demons make deals not promises.” The expression in Simon’s face is worth it, a mixture of annoyance and fondness. Wilhelm kisses him again, with teeth and tongue.

“Okay. It’s a deal then.”

[rebouks]

Something inside Tristen snapped, Vicky’s grating voice quivering over his shoulder almost made him want to smash his head against the pavement just so he wouldn’t have to hear it anymore. “Trissy-…” He cut her off, whirling to face her with such a crazed look in his eyes that she actually balked. “I don’t fucking want this-.. you; I never have!” Her lips twisted into a pout as she regained her composure. She didn’t like it when he was sober, her little games didn’t work so well when he wasn’t shackled to her approval, her money, her connections.

“You’re acting crazy, can we just-…” He cut her off again, getting up in her face this time. He didn’t care if he scared her, didn’t care what he looked like-.. he wasn’t backing down now, lest she get under his skin again. “You created a life you don’t even want, and what for? Out of pure pettiness, because someone dared treat me with the tiniest amount of decency-.. and you couldn’t even keep your panties on long enough to make sure it was mine!” Still intent on keeping up the charade, Vicky tried to interrupt. “But it is y-…” “IT’S FUCKING NOT!” Tristen spat. Her shoulders drooped, a tiny shift in body language that told him he’d finally won. She’d given it her best shot, but the folded wad of paper hidden in Tristen’s pocket had broken her spell on him. It wasn’t his, she wasn’t his; he was free.

He’d tried to keep it together until he was alone, but the tears had fallen long before he’d managed to reach the solace of his makeshift bedroom. Courtney had followed him shortly thereafter, speaking words he didn’t hear, offering consolation where he didn’t want it.

The shame he’d tried so hard to bury bubbled up without permission, an ugly, strangled sob suddenly muffled by her closeness. She cradled him like one of her own. Like Robin after a bad dream, like Byrd when he hurt himself doing something he shouldn’t, or Wren when she couldn’t sleep; and to her surprise, he’d let her.

He could hardly remember what she’d said, or how long she’d held him like that, but before he knew it, he was alone again; drifting off into an emotionally spent slumber like a soothed child.

Tristen had grown fond the Bay, though like anywhere else he’d been, it’d soon become tainted with failure, regret and embarrassment. Oscar had tried all morning to convince him to stay, but it was no use, he’d made up his mind. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t care what happened to his flat or what useless possessions lay within; he’d snapped his phone in half, he had his bag, he had his hat, his shaky sobriety and his sanity. That was enough to get by, for now.

Tristen was going to do what he did best, run away; except this time, he’d accepted the situation for what it was. So, what if he was fleeing? Maybe he wasn’t meant to stay in situ, wasn’t meant to let his rotten roots take hold anywhere. The longer he stayed somewhere, the more time there was for things to go pear-shaped. King Midas’s illegitimate bastard, turning everything he touched to shit instead of gold.

Oscar sighed. “You can’t just.. leave.” “I can’t stay either…” Tristen pleaded. He didn’t want to argue, and his resolve wasn’t infinite. Shaking his head, Oscar released Tristen’s shoulder with one last squeeze that said; okay, but you better look after yourself. There wasn’t much more he could’ve said with words. The silence between the pair was broken as Tristen straightened himself, adjusting his hat with a forced, lopsided grin; almost like he was trying to feign excitement. “Thanks for everything…”

Oscar nodded, standing helplessly at the edge of the driveway as Tristen set out. He wondered how many times he’d done this; how many places he’d abandoned, how many people he’d cut off. “Maybe I’ll see you around…” he suggested. Tristen threw a rueful smile over his shoulder. “Maybe.”

Previous // Next

[empress-mizuki]

[Midas went by himself to Lost Lake to speak with Empress Mizuki after a bit of push-back from Marigold. She was concerned for his well being so soon after returning from such a disruptive curse, but he didn't want to let things sit the way they'd been left any longer. It wasn't often these curses afflicted him anyway, so he didn't imagine another would be on its heels.]

["These things rarely adhere to rhyme or reason." She'd said before ultimately relenting to his reasoning, and giving the King his car keys once they'd ferried to the island's northern beach.]

[Midas did not want to write a letter. He knew that making amends for disrespecting the Empress so thoroughly would mean nothing if she could not see that it was really coming from him. Valeria had understood, at least. Though also cautious about a follow-up curse, she herself having been insulted by the Prince didn't argue when Midas said he needed to apologize in person. (Though, maybe they were still sore from their own conversation underneath, and wanted the yacht to themselves for a little while. Not an impossibility.)]

[The island's roads brought him to the west side of Lost Lake. The King expected guards to be at it's gateways, and was surprised that his entry went unchecked, though that was also it's own relief. He didn't feel up to explaining himself to another party.]

[Walking up the steps and into the main temple, he took a moment to scan his surroundings. It was a lovely building, ancient with a thrum of power unfamiliar to him, but one non-threatning. Something told him that would change if the Empress decided not to forgive him. But, he also doubted she would be unwilling to hear him out. Hoped, anyway.]

[Farbeit for him to meander around a place he'd not been invited to look for the Empress, but something also told him that the same power he felt would let her know of his arrival. He made his way to the back of the temple, keeping his eyes out for Mizuki along the stone and wooden paths surrounding one of the portals that sat in the middle of the tranquil courtyard.]

@king-midas-fortnite

[It was not the power residing in the building itself that had told the Empress of the King's arrival. Indeed, his arrival had been anticipated since shortly after the spirits watching the Marigold had told her he had departed. The King's progress had been reported every time he had come within eyeshot of a body of water, and his path had been clear; he was headed for Lost Lake, which could only have one meaning.

She wasn't certain if she was fully prepared to face him after the humiliation she had suffered on his yacht, and having barely had time to recover from the repercussions of the brutal severance rituals just conducted on Vengeance, but as an Empress, she rarely had time to prepare herself between her responsibilities and meetings like these. As usual, she would have to play the imperial game with no room to breathe. Such was her life, a slave to the whim of the waters and whatever, or whoever, they brought to her door. Never had her crown felt like such a burden.

It was days like this that she questioned herself the most.

The spirits of Lost Lake itself had whispered of the King's arrival. Some had offered to bar the door, others offered to make him vanish into the depths, as they sensed their Mistress's anger, however controlled it was. But she bade them lie low and allow him to pass. Despite her anger and humiliation, her friendship with the King was one she valued deeply, and she wanted to give him a chance before losing that connection.

The Empress watched from the shadows of her open upper floor as the King slowly made his way into the main structure. His footsteps were soft, but her home was quiet, so she heard exactly where he was below her. Gripping her fan in one hand, she took a deep breath before silently moving to the railing of her balcony, looking down at him as he checked the courtyard.]

What purpose drives the Gilded King to invite himself to my sanctuary unannounced?

[kneecapandribcageinverter]

Complicated feelings about new COTL update. The one where you get to heal the Bishops.

I'll admit, I had complicated feelings about the Bishops being resurrected in the first place. See, Narinder has this whole questline about him grieving, but now it's kinda been rendered moot? But not really, because now he has to actually CONFRONT his siblings after... well, everything, and there was a lot that was lost and will never be the same even if they ARE back, so it's not like there's nothing to mourn.

Then there's the bishop regeneration quests in the new update, where you heal their maimed bodies, restoring their eyes, ears, throat, skull, whatever. Leshy can see, Heket can speak, Kallamar can hear, and Shamura can think straight again.

Somehow, this feels like it cheapens the experience. Part of the reason it was such a big deal was because it was irreversible. This family did things to each other that couldn't be undone or taken back. But now that it HAS been fixed, it makes the problem seem trivial, which in turn makes the solution seem trivial.

But I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing. I don't think it's a bad thing at all, when I think about it some more.

You hear a lot of people talking about how sad they get after losing their favorite followers, and I experienced something similar during my playthrough, but... I noticed something interesting. Once I got the resurrection ritual, I sorta stopped caring when my followers died. Before, I'd think "just you wait, I'm gonna bring you back as soon as I can." but now that I CAN, it doesn't seem important to do anymore. I just love that psychological effect, how godlike power makes mortality seem so trivial and inconsequential.

See, the Lamb is a god. Doing things like this is a godly thing to do, and this casual mindset about it is... divine. This game has gods coming to grips with newfound mortality, sure, but that's not what it's about. It's about the Lamb losing their mortality. Seeing these once profound moments rendered hollow by their own power is the POINT. This is a game where mortal limitations and restrictions are meant to be overcome. Time and time again, the Lamb overreaches what was allotted to them, and time and time again, they find that what seemed so high above them is not only within their reach, but right in front of their face. Like the opposite of Tantalus, the highest boughs bend down to allow them to harvest whatever fruit they crave, and the tide rises to quench their thirst.

Another thing I have a love-hate relationship with is the comparison between the questlines that you've got. You bring the bishops low, sure, that's your job now. But then, you're charged with saving your mortal enemies, offering your own followers lives as payment to do so.

Now, I liked the variable nature of most sidequests. You can be the salvation or doom of... basically anyone. You can help Sozo poison himself to death and then rehabilitate him. You can protect Plimbo's ship from the angry Witnesses. You can reunite Forneus with her kids. You can reignite a lighthouse, preventing people from being lost at sea. On the other hand, you could offer your followers to Midas, or become a cannibalistic slave trader's favorite customer. There is the infamous Fox questline, in which you sacrifice your followers and Ratau.

What I have complicated feelings about is that... we have the option to save our foes, and we have the option to betray our faithful. If we choose to be vindictive to our foes or loyal to our flock, that's not a quest option, that's just non-progression.

What I mean is, we can't choose to protect our flock, or the lands of the old faith, from these other threats, we can only choose to either do business with them at the expense of our allies or other innocents, or simply ignore them. Likewise, we can't hurt the bishops in a way that isn't DIY follower interactions. Sure, we can keep them in a pillory forever, or permakill them in a horrid way, but that feels more like torturing a Minecraft villager than actually taking revenge against the character.

What's more is, to fulfill the "good" sidequests, we have to betray our followers by feeding them to doors, or sacrificing them to resurrect Aym and Baal.

It's like... I'm oversimplifying, but the choices we have are: Being good to our enemies, being bad to our allies, or just choosing not to do those things. (Sure, there are follower quests, but I'm not putting "pick ten flowers for me" on par with "end a life to get me out of hell.") This peeves me off a bit. But I understand this too.

Remember what I said earlier about the Lamb going through an arc about not being mortal anymore? This is another result of that. These quests represent that, even with the "you can't turn it down, you can only decide not to do it yet" thing. See, you might decide not to betray your followers now, but... time will pass. With infinite time, infinite things will happen. You will outlive your own willpower, and eventually cave in even to the least appealing temptation.

The Lamb values saving the bishops for the same reason the player does: Because they're actual characters with significance to the player. To us, the followers are random NPCs, and to the Lamb, they'll eventually wind up feeling the same way. After so much time, their faces blend together, their voices fade to unintelligible babble, etc. But the Bishops were a Big Deal to the Lamb once upon a time. Even if it was because they were enemies, they were IMPORTANT. It's someone that still means something. I figure it's sorta like how AM in I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream keeps a handful of humans alive so that it still has something to do stuff to, and freaks out when they die. It's not about mercy, it's not about forgiveness, it's not about affection, it's about having something around that can make you feel something after all this time.

Complicated feelings, but it's a good game.

[aealrizen]

It was well into the afternoon of the next day by the time the group reached the western gate of Eutoli. The remainder of the trip had been relatively uneventful compared to the day before, with only a short excursion with vulture bats leading the group into having an early and cheerful lunch. The crowd had noticed a group of them in the distance, and while Zeera had wanted to detour slightly to avoid them Ian instead offered to hunt the beasts for a fresh meal for everyone. The creatures were too large for most people to risk hunting them, attempts usually resulting in large injuries. But Ian’s sniper rifle was able to make short work of them from a safe distance, and sharing the resulting food with the group ended up solidifying the change in the opinion of most of the group towards the three cyborgs. Having been given an easy ride through brigands, and then fed fresh meat for lunch meant that a good portion of the group was cheerfully waving goodbye when they left them at the gate. An action that Ian and Whip gratefully returned as most of the group left to take care of their next jobs, leaving the rest to ride through the first gate to Eutoli.

The entrance to the last of the domed cities was similar to Andapos, with layers of heavy gates and security personnel separating the wastelands outside from the protected civilization inside. Those who had the proper paperwork for an extended stay were allowed to follow the trucks into the enclosed dock within the walls, locals directing the escorts to park the vehicles and showing the volunteers where to unload the different types of equipment. It was a streamlined process, each item being checked against the documents, and inspected for any potential hazards to either people or the internal environment.

Since Benjamin had filed their paperwork as people who were to help unload, Ian, Whip and Midas had to delay entering the city until all of the transported supplies were organized into their proper containers to be delivered to their end destinations. It wasn’t hard work, especially since they were all capable of easily lifting way more than the average person. A feat that earned a chorus of surprised noises from the locals, which soon turned into amused chuckling and compliments.

Midas found it was hard to completely focus on his work, even if the machines he was helping to unload were interesting to look at and consider their potential functions. There was an odd smell that permeated the air ever since they’d passed through the first gateway. Rich, heavy, and settling in the back of his nose, practically resting on his tongue. Foreign, yet not. And Whip ended up sputtering a small chuckle when he caught Midas absently smelling his own arm while setting a broken generator down on a conveyor.

“What are you doing?” Whip asked, the mirth still in his voice as Midas raised his head to smell the air again.

“I’m trying to figure out what that smell is,” Midas admitted, brows scrunched in confusion.

“Sme- oh,” Whip started to repeat before he realized exactly what Midas was talking about. Right, as far as the kid’s active memory knew this was the first time he’d been to Eutoli. Which meant he’d definitely notice the one thing that marked Eutoli different from the other cities. “It’s the plants.”

“What?” Midas asked, brow furrowing more. He couldn’t even see any plants in here. Well, except maybe the little desk ivy one of the security personnel had. Surely that wasn’t the cause of such an all consuming scent that permeated the entire garage.

“On the other side of that wall are the open fields and forests of Eutoli. When you get so many plants clustered together everything smells different,” Whip explained, spreading his hands in front of him slightly after gesturing to the wall the conveyors were leading through.

The face Midas gave Whip betrayed that he didn’t quite understand or believe what Whip was saying, but Whip could only chuckle. “C’mon, we’re almost done. Let’s just finish up and go see for ourselves, okay?” Whip prompted, gesturing to the last truck that only had a few more items in it.

It seemed this was a common enough occurrence that the people of Eutoli had learned how to heavily streamline the unloading process. Something Midas found he was grateful for as it was becoming increasingly harder to focus on anything in particular. He just wanted to run through the last gateway and see the city for himself. See if there was anything at all that triggered some of his memories to return. Maybe even catch sight of that cathedral that had been in the database in Mortenheim. He figured that could be his starting point. Just find the cathedral and work out from there. Someone had to know something, right? It wasn’t just baseless hope that he had.

Soon enough they were standing at the last checkpoint before being allowed into the city, and Midas didn’t notice at all how the employee gave him a confused expression when Ian was the one to hand him their papers and passes. Nor did he notice when the guard stamped the passes and let them through with a “Welcome back,” comment instead of “Welcome to Eutoli,” like he had with the others who had permission to stay longer. A comment that made Whip frown slightly, but after looking at Midas and how absent the lad’s expression looked, he didn’t voice any of the questions in his mind. Surely if the guard knew Midas he would have said something, yeah? Maybe they just had a record of Ian or Whip having been there before, and that had prompted the change in greeting, as well as the way people seemed significantly less concerned with their foreign presence than with others that had been there.

The questions in Whip’s mind were decidedly filed away for later considering there was an entire city of people they could talk to just beyond the next set of doors. They could come back to the security worker as a last resort, and not hang up the line asking odd questions that would make his job harder.

It wasn’t the first time Ian or Whip had walked through the last set of doors leading to the inner city of Eutoli. But it had certainly been a long time, and the view was just as breathtaking. Frosted glass doors opening to rolling slopes of green as far as the eye could see. A humid breeze pushing into their faces as Midas sucked in a gasp and absently rushed ahead a few steps, running to the edge of the patio and onto the slightly shaggy wild grass. It was completely different from the other cities. Where Andapos opened into concrete streets and tall buildings painted with cool blues and artificial browns, and Cerah’s pale streets picked into sterile cleanliness by machines boasted the presence of humans, Eutoli was predominantly green and full of texture. Cascading hills of grass led into fields of wildflowers right next to steps of rice paddies leading into farmlands that intermingled with orchards flowing into towering forests. Anything that wasn’t green was dirty brown or irregular grey from unshaped stones. Even the city of humans looked less like a city and more like countryside houses built around the natural curves of trees and hills instead of clearing the way for structures. And the only ones that remained functional were small. Any towers of glass had long since fallen to rest and be reclaimed by the precious foliage that Eutoli now coveted.

Midas stared in stunned silence for a stretch of time, his eyes scanning the entirety of the world inside the dome that contained its own clouds. Everything looked remarkably unremarkable. Everything was new, yet just as it should be. The rustle of wind in the leaves and grass, and a hustle of sounds from living creatures that weren’t human. A pocket of fairytale forest wrapped up in a protective shield of technology keeping it separate from the wastelands outside. Such a peaceful place that warranted a sense of serenity.

Which meant that Midas’ sudden exclamation was a lot quieter than he usually was. “Rice fields!” Midas suddenly gasped when he noticed them, raising a hand to point while glancing back at Whip and Ian before he started sprinting down the hills towards them.

There were no pathways that weren’t overgrown. People here didn’t like to trample the ground into barrenness. So the grass whisked past their legs as Ian and Whip gave startled noises before quickly following Midas’ path to the flooded paddies. It took less than thirty minutes for them to reach them, the green stalks of rice only being so easily identifiable because of the blanket of water they rested in. And when they reached the edge of one of the pools Midas paused only for a moment, just long enough to raise one foot at a time to yank the boots off his feet before he splashed into the clear water.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Midas commented, a little breathless as he started almost shuffle walking along the channels between the sections of rice. “The mud under the water is so soft, just like they said it was. Because they keep fish in the water too, and if you stand still they’ll sometimes come and - snrk- nibble your legs.” The explanation came through barely smothered excitement as Midas wandered a little further away before he forced himself to stop, standing still as he said to and almost immediately getting the small carp to swim out from the rice and bump against his calves, causing him to snicker and giggle. And as he kept looking back at the other two, Ian and Whip exchanged a look with each other.

They were hesitant at first, not sure if they would get in trouble for just walking into the rice paddies without permission. But no one was yelling at them, or running to tell them off. There was even a woman with a wide hat that looked to them, but only raised a hand in a pleasant wave before she continued wading through the fields, checking on the plants and fish. It was enough to convince Whip and Ian that it was okay for them to follow Midas’ beckons to join him, taking their own shoes off and stepping into the surprisingly cool water. The mud at the bottom squishing between his toes earned a snicker from Whip as he suddenly understood why Midas had been so excited to get his feet in the water. And Ian found the cool water and resident fish paying him no mind to be strangely calming. It was easy to catch up to Midas, and they ended up falling silent as the lad started to babble facts about the farming methods there, all of them holding their shoes out of the water as they aimlessly wandered the fields.

“They raise fish in the paddies because they can be used as food, but also because they act as natural pesticides for bugs and snails that are harmful for the rice. So they’re able to grow more healthy plants since they don’t have to worry about chemical pesticides.” Midas’ sounded proud to know what he did about the rice fields, happily sloshing through the rows and rows of crop while looking at the fish, the plants, the small birds that would land on the plants from time to time to eat the seeds and the bugs. “The fish make for a great dinner too. I think they have carp and also tilapia, which is really good with lemon- Ah! I’ve had lemon carp before!” The realization caused Midas to abruptly turn around to face Whip and Ian, a huge smile lighting his eyes as he realized it wasn’t because he was regurgitating an encyclopedia that he knew all that he was saying. He could remember having a whole, braised fish for dinner before, seasoned with lemon juice and herbs. He was about to ask if they could look for a place to get some for dinner that night, but Whip suddenly reached out to caution Midas as he continued walking backwards.

“Ah, Midas look out!” Whip called hurriedly, moving forward to try and grab Midas before he stepped back further. There was someone behind Midas, hunched over in the fields catching some of the fish and putting them in a basket. A huge straw hat was blocking their features, and Midas seemed to be paying less attention to his surroundings now that he was thinking about the fish. Whip ended up too late in his warning, but thankfully the girl broke out of her working trance soon enough to stumble out of the way with only a slight bump from the distracted lad. She gave a tiny yelp as Midas bumped into her, but didn’t seem too upset.

“Sorry!” Midas immediately blurted, dropping his shoe and reaching out to catch the girl’s arm to keep her steady. As she raised her head, Whip noticed quite the length of blonde hair tied in two braids pinned up where they wouldn’t dangle in the water, and strikingly blue eyes above faintly freckled cheeks. She must have been only a teenager, and incredibly shy since she had yet to say anything.

At first Ian thought it was just because she wasn’t used to seeing strangers, but then he noticed how her expression changed from anxious surprise to open shock. And after that Ian was quick to notice Midas had frozen as well, staring at the girl’s face in frozen silence as his mind screamed empty thoughts at him. His grip on her arm went slack, and she raised her hands to cover her mouth in a smothered inhale.

“......Meri?” Midas suddenly asked, the word sounding foreign to his ears but right in his mind, his eyes still openly staring at the girl.

She didn’t respond verbally, the hands covering her mouth starting to shake before she suddenly gasped, turning around to run in the opposite direction in borderline panic, leaving her basket behind without a second glance.

“Ah, wait!” Whip called out, stumbling forward to try and grab the girl and keep her from running. Meri? Was that her name? Did she and Midas know each other? She couldn’t just run away and not say anything. Why did she look so scared?

And yet it was Midas who reached out an arm to block Whip’s path, holding him back. “Don’t. You’ll just… scare her- she’s very… shy…?” Midas cautioned, his comments as broken and the headache scramble of thoughts flooding his mind, causing him to raise a hand to his temple and squint an eye. There were broken pieces of images in his mind. A little girl with a stuffed bear that she always carried with her, hiding half her face as she peeked over the top of it. Knowing that she always spoke incredibly quiet, often not saying anything at all, especially in crowds. Her name was Meri. He was pretty sure it was Meri. But… he couldn’t sort through the other thoughts to remember who she was exactly. Was she someone’s sister? A daughter definitely, but to who? She was friends with… who again? There were so many faces popping into his head now. Some didn’t seem to fit, some came to mind without a reason to be there. It was like shortly after he first woke up. Everything dumped into his mind like a trash bin with no organization, and the labels all ripped, faded, or missing completely and potentially replaced by something else. It was headache inducing, and he winced as he dropped his other shoe in favor of holding his head with both hands.

“Midas?” Ian prompted, concern saturating his voice that was deliberately kept quiet as he moved forward to lean down in front of Midas, hands resting on the lad’s shoulders gently.

“Give me a minute,” Midas requested in almost a whisper, leaning forward to bump his head against Ian’s chest and taking advantage of the semi shade he was providing. “Too much. Just… give me a minute.”

He sounded pained and overwhelmed, so Ian just relented to wait, and keep him close. “Okay. Take your time,” he bid quietly, keeping an eye on only Midas now as Whip took the role of watching their environment.

____________________________

First

____________________________

Forget the 1500 word limit I'm too excited to post all of this at once ahhhhh X'DDDD

[dr-pepperrrr]

A Parallel I Would Lay My Life On - Part 2

A story of second chances told in fragments. Posted on AO3 under the same name.

He felt the shake vibrating the walls around him, eyes fluttering open. Wondering what was happening now. Trapped in the same cell that he had been in for what felt like a century. No way to tell when day or night was, the brief reprieves blessed by Persephone giving him no clues either. The Underworld trapped in a permanent dusk. It could have been a few years, it could have been a hundred. 

The shaking continued, growing stronger. Something big was happening. He felt a harsh thud in his chest, gasping as he tried to curl in on himself. Heart racing in his chest, something he hadn't felt in so long. Unsure what it meant, still locked into the shackles that kept him in place. Time still passed slowly, energy building in his muscles. Glancing up, he willed the shackles to gold, jerking slightly as he watched it spread. Mind racing at what it could mean. He let it cover the chains, yanking harshly, stronger that he had been before. Pausing when they finally snapped, arms falling to his side. 

He stood, legs still shaky with nerves. Unsure of what to expect if he managed to escape. Where did one go when faced with the endless void of the Underworld? He pressed his hands against the door, watching as it turned to gold under his touch. Using his one hand he had left, he aimed a punch at it, the door denting in. His strength was returning quickly, grateful that his curse granted him more than the average person. Another hit, the door crumpling in further. A third, the door flying open, metal locks that had blocked it from the other side scattering loudly across the worn marble floor. 

He glanced up, jerking backwards at movement in front of him, the shadow of a person standing in his path. Fear filled him, it was too soon to be caught. He had just managed to start his escape, was expecting at least a little bit more time. 

A familiar voice hit his ears. "Couldn't even wait for me to unlock the door?" Brows furrowing as the person stepped forward, matching scar to him. Both hands still, both covered in gold. He staggered forward, taking in the sight of Marigold in front of him. She was grinning at him, and he felt his heart race. A sadness creeping through him. 

"When did you die?"

She frowned at that, a confused look on her face. "I didn't. I came to get you out." She seemed to pause, looking around. "Come on. We need to get out of here first, back to the yacht. I can explain more once I can stop worrying about turning around to a god standing behind me." He followed after her, confused as she led him down a set of large marble stairs, the same ones that Persephone had taken him down when she felt graceful enough. Forward, through the murky green waters, shifting around them as the faint screams of the souls trapped in the river echoed off of the walls. Ahead, instead of darkness, there was sun. He paused as he stepped into it, forgetting the feeling of warmth on his skin.

"Hurry up," Marigold called out from further ahead. "We need to get away from here right now. I don't know when Hades might show back up." At the mention of the god, Midas quickly darted forward. He could take the time process everything later, now he needed to get as far away from here as possible. 

Dark rocks covered the land, the coastline unfamiliar as they made their way forward. He continued to glance behind him, expecting to see a wall of guards, a chain flying towards him, ready to snatch him back to his cell. Every time he looked, the landscape remained empty. His steps faltered slightly as he took in the yacht, looking the same as it always had. Almost unable to believe he had escaped, wondering if this was just some elaborate hallucination forced upon his as punishment. Maybe his mind had finally broken. Marigold went along the zip line first, and he quickly followed. Eager to be off the ground of the Underworld. When he landed, he saw two people standing still, weapons drawn. A woman with a sword in hand, and tiger hybrid with a shot gun. 

He stilled, Marigold nodding her head towards them. "Sit," the woman with the sword commanded. "You will wait here until he arrives." Marigold motioned for them to sit, lounge chairs spread across the deck. 

As they waited, the armour that he had worn while in the Underworld, a gift from Persephone after one of the more unpleasant experiences he had, was slowly becoming uncomfortable. The air was warm, humid. His hair stuck to his neck now with the length. He knew they must be somewhere along the southern coast, nothing that he could see looking familiar. The coastline nothing like he had seen before he had died, wondering what had happened to the island while he was gone. What he had missed. He glanced over to Marigold, studying her. She looked older, but not by much, so he knew he couldn't have been gone for more than a couple years. 

"Do you know who this leader is?" He asked quietly. She shook her head, giving a small sigh. 

"They've all been on the move since they summoned the gods here. They were originally at war with another group, which somehow Agent Jones is the leader of, but none of them seem to care now that the gods are actually here. Which, I guess we can thank them for that, or else we wouldn't have been able to find you." She was keeping her voice low, eyes trained on the other two as they paced the deck. 

Sweat slowly dripped down Midas's neck, grimacing at the feeling. He stood, pausing as the other two raised their weapons towards him. He raised his hands in slowly as a show of peace. "I'm just looking to take this armour off. It's a little hot." The women seemed to think it over before she lowered her sword, tiger following suit. He groaned as he unclasped the buckles, letting the metal fall onto the deck with a loud clang. The shirt that was underneath was damp, sticking to his skin but infinitely cooler than the metal that had been on him.

The sound of a zip line caught their attention, Midas back on edge. Marigold watched the stairs intently, waiting for the groups leader to make an appearance. He seen a flash of white hair first, mismatched eyes scanning the deck as they landed on him. He felt like his chest caved in, air leaving his lungs quickly. His blue eye had two scars crossing it now, similar to his own, wondering what had happened to him here. Wondering how he managed to survive. Marigold heard his gasp, following him to her feet as he stood, taking a step forwards. 

He paused at the cool look of indifference on the mans face as he turned to face the other two. "Montague?" Heart racing as the mans eyes slid over to him, confusion crossing his face. 

"Do I know you?" Still condescending, still accented. Midas faltered at his words, taking a step back. Something was off. He looked to Marigold, a frown on his face.

"Where are we?" 

She looked to the other group, then back to him, seeming to debate on her words. "You're not on the same island as before," she told him slowly. "Through a .. Series of unfortunate events, the island we were on was destroyed, for lack of a better word. We barely made it through to this one." Midas looked back to the Montague that was here now. The same. Completely different. No memories of whatever snapshot of himself had been placed in the Loop. 

He shook his head, glancing back to Montague, letting himself sit back in the chair. "Sorry, no, you don't." The man hummed, raising his brow as he turned, speaking to the woman again. Words too soft for Midas to hear. He watched as Montague frowned, crossing his arms, glancing back at them. The same look of annoyance on his face that Midas had been so used to seeing. 

He sighed, rolling his eyes before making his way over. "You may stay here if you wish, but it remains my yacht." Midas felt the frown on his face as he stood, not missing the way Montague's flicked over him. His stare still full of judgment as he raised a brow, meeting Midas's eyes. 

"It's my yacht."

A smirk was on Montague's face now as he leaned forward, pressing into Midas's space. Eyes locking onto his, smirk growing as Midas sucked in a breath at the proximity. His voice was low as he spoke. "Says who?" 

Midas spluttered, indignant as he opened his mouth to reply, Marigold cutting in quickly. "Thank you, it is very much appreciated." Glaring at Midas, she motioned for him to walk inside, shooing him along. He glanced back, meeting Montague's eyes, his stupid little smirk still on his face as he winked. When he turned, Marigold was frowning at him. 

"What the hell was that? How do you know him?"

Faltering at her question, Midas debated on how to answer. He hadn't told anyone about Montague before, keeping everything that happened between them to himself. He crossed towards the bar cabinet, stacked with liqour that he would never buy for himself. With an annoyed sigh, he poured himself a drink, taking a sip before meeting the woman's eyes. 

"I met a version of him on the other island. Before the Device event. He was just a small time thief, but we grew to know each other .. very well." He paused, tossing back the rest of the drink. "We.. It was.." Sighing as he shook his head. "He went looking for me at the Agency when the Device first came out and I was going to his place to get him. He didn't make it out in time." 

Marigold listened as he spoke, knowing Midas well enough to piece the story together with the parts that had been left unsaid. Her hand slid over his shoulder as a show of comfort. "Well, this one is not whoever you think he is. Don't act so star struck next time, you're going to scare him away, and we need all the help we can get right now." Midas scoffed at that, rolling his eyes. 

"I did not act star struck."

At that, Marigold laughed loudly. "Okay, buddy. Whatever you say." 

--

The next time Midas had seen him, Montague was lounging on one of the chairs on the main deck. The woman he now knew to be Nisha was beside him, frowning, smacking the palm of one hand with the back of her other as she seemed to try to explain something to him. He watched Montague raise an eyebrow, roll his eyes and then wave her away. She stood abruptly, a look of anger on her face before stalking away. He heard the zip line not long after, signaling she had left the ship. 

He glanced over, watching as Midas seated himself in another chair. Studying him. "Why do you look like that when you see me?" 

Midas looked away, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about." He heard the man hum, glancing over, his eyes still locked onto him. He stood, slowly crossing to where Midas was. He picked up his arm with the missing hand, Midas's heart quickening at the feeling of his touch. 

"What happened?" 

Midas gently pulled his arm away, meeting Montague's eyes as he stood above him. "A man decided he wanted my powers for himself, and thought cutting off my hand would give it to him. Instead, he didn't get what he wanted and I died." 

"And what are your powers?" 

Midas's eyes narrowed at him. "I can turn things into gold. And I'm stronger than normal people." The man made an interested sound, studying him. Motioning him to stand as he took a step back. Midas slowly got to his feet, watching Montague curiously. 

"I would like to see how strong you are." 

With a scoff, Midas shook his head. "I'm not fighting you." With a flash of movement, he ducked just as Montague's foot flew by his face, a blade tucked along his shoe just grazing his cheek, the feeling of wetness trickling down his face surprising him. His brows furrowed as he took a step back, Montague taking one forward, a grin on his face. 

"If that is what I want, then you will do it." 

Midas laughed. "That's the most entitled thing I've ever heard." He paused as he seen Montague's hands shift, diamond coating over them. Fingers lengthening to sharp tips as it slowly crept up his arm. Just as Montague launched himself forward, Midas let the gold flow through him, covering his body, the man tackling him to the ground. 

They struggled back and forth, both gaining the upper hand before losing it. Over and over. He gasped as he felt his back slam into the ground, diamond fingers wrapped around his wrists above his head, the other gripping at his neck. The diamond disappeared from Montague slowly, a sly grin on his face as he leaned forward. Midas let the gold fade away, feeling Montague's thumb dig into his chin. "I guess diamonds are better than gold," he purred. As soon as Midas felt his hand loosen around his wrist, he ripped them free, flipping them easily as he pulled his knife that was sheathed along his hip, pressing it lightly against the skin of his neck. 

Montague grinned up at him, something flashing in his eyes. "How did you know I like knives?" 

Midas felt his chest constrict. Memories of Montague under him in a moonlit hallway, saying the exact same words. He gasped in a breath as he stood quickly, needing to get away from the man that was not the Montague he had known. Not bothering to look back, knowing the man was probably confused at whatever had just happened. 

--

He sat in the sun once again, shirtless as he basked in the warmth, watching the light reflect of his new prosthetic. Still reeling from Jules arriving on the ship, eager to have a chance to make things right with her after everything. He watched the fingers move, unused to the feeling after spending so long with nothing but a stump at the end of his wrist. He glanced towards the stairs at the sound of the zip line, Montague appearing. His eyes raked over Midas, a smirk crossing his face as Montague finally seemed to falter. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Nothing. Did you need something." 

Montague nodded, motioning with his head for Midas to follow. He could feel his eyes on him as he leaned forward to grab his shirt, tracing over his tattoos. When he stood, Montague's cheeks were dusted with pink, looking out over the water. He leaned in as he walked by, their eyes meeting quickly. "Lead the way." With a shaky breath, Montague gave a quick nod, guiding them towards the zip line. 

"So where are we going?" 

Montague gave him a sly grin as he slid behind the driver seat of the car. "We are going to spy on a god." Midas's stomach twisted. Uneager to see a god after escaping such a short time ago. With a laugh, Montague pushed at his shoulder as he buckled himself in. "Relax, it is not the same one who trapped you. We are going to watch Zeus."

With a roll of his eyes, Midas sighed loudly. "Right, cause that's so much better."

Fiddling with the radio before he took off, Montague continued to smile. "Do not worry, I will keep you safe." Midas wanted to smack him with how condescending he sounded. 

"I can keep myself safe just fine," Midas scoffed.

"Well, I am not the one who died am I?" He laughed, glancing out of his window as he continued. "That was you." Missing the way Midas seemed to freeze at his words, lip twitching down. He looked back finally, confused at the expression on Midas's face. "What is that face for? You look like someone has just kicked your puppy." 

With a shake of his head, Midas managed to tear his eyes away from the man, shaking his head. "Nothing." Montague hummed, narrowing his eyes at him as he drove them towards the marble city. 

--

Tipping back his glass, Midas drained the rest of the liqour that was in it before he grimaced. Still not to his liking, but he guessed there couldn't be a complaint considering he was alive in the first place. He stood, legs starting to feel loose as he walked back to the bar to refill his glass. The conversation he had with Montague in the car replaying in his mind. Memories accompanying the words. 

I am not the one who died, am I? The sight of the Agency crumbling, burying Montague's body somewhere in it. One of the first times he found himself regretting his actions, wishing he could turn back time. Let Montague know the plan before he had gone through with it, so he wouldn't go looking for Midas. He grabbed the bottle, bringing it back with him. 

The sound of a zip line, Montague appearing on the deck not long after. Midas nodded to him, keeping himself laid back in the lounge chair he was occupying. Montague looked around before raising a brow. "You are drinking alone?" Midas gave him a nod. "Well, then I suppose I will join you." He grabbed a glass for himself, letting himself fall into the chair next to Midas. 

"What is the celebration of the night?" Montague asked, a small smirk on his face. 

With a short laugh, Midas shrugged his shoulders. "I'm alive, and I want to." 

"That is a good reason." Montague seemed to hum to himself, eyes flitting around the deck before finally landing on Midas. He stood quickly, motioning for the man to follow. "Come." Midas wanted to roll his eyes, grabbing the bottle of liqour and standing instead. Trailing behind Montague as he led his way through the ship, towards the upper level. He watched as Montague glanced behind them as he walked through the bedroom, making sure Midas was still following before crossing onto the deck, placing his glass on a table beside the hot tub. Meeting Midas's eyes before he pulled his shirt over his head, smirking at his faltering steps. 

"Will you join me?" Montague asked softy, still smirking as he unbuttoned his pants. Watching as Midas's eyes flicked down, away just as quickly before he nodded. He slid them off, leaving his briefs on as he got into the pool. Eyes heavy as they watched Midas pull his shirt over his head, fingers fumbling over his belt to get it off. He slipped into the hot tub not long after, heart racing at the way Montague was watching him. Unused to having that stare focused on him after so long. Taking a shaky breath as Montague crowded into his space, flushing at the proximity. "Why do you get so flustered around me?" 

Moving himself backwards, Midas aimed for a casual tone, grimacing when he still sounded offended. "I do not." The man laughed at his response, Midas's heart beating quicker at the sound. They even had the same laugh. Once more, Montague pressed into his space, faces close together, grinning as he watched Midas's eyes flick down to his lips. 

"You do." He watched as Midas's breath seemed to catch. "Can I try something?" Swallowing thickly, Midas took another deep breath. 

"What did you have in mind?" 

Fingers brushing at Midas's jaw to lead it up, eyes low as they stared at each other. "Just a bit of fun," Montague murmured, lips brushing against the skin of Midas's jaw. Another shaky breath as he nodded his head, wanting whatever Montague would give him. He felt another hand trace along his thigh in the water, reaching his own out to run his fingers against Montague. Lightly brushing over his hip, watching as the man's eyes fluttered, sensitive there just like he had been before.

Finally pressing their lips together, a soft sigh leaving him as his body seemed to relax. The two of them continued, Montague sliding himself forward to seat himself on Midas's legs, hands roaming before he stood, motioning for Midas to follow, across the deck and into the room before pushing him back onto the bed. Their hands working quickly between themselves, Midas watching every reaction that crossed Montague's face intently. Drinking in the sounds that fell from his mouth. 

Eyes heavy as he watched Montague clean them off, before slowly crawling along the bed, head tilting slightly. "I trust I am not overstepping if I stay the night?" Instantly Midas was shaking his head, moving backwards to make room for the other man. Montague smirked, falling onto the bed beside him before he lifted himself up on his elbow. 

They spoke lowly through the night until Montague started to drift off. The conversation reminding Midas of when they had spent the night in his office of the Agency, going through the papers Montague had stolen for him. He found himself watching Montague as he slept, tracing over his face, the new scars, trying to memorize everything. Thinking back to Marigold's words when they first arrived. Maybe he was acting a bit star-struck, but that was neither here nor there. 

--

Montague continued to spend more and more time on the ship, half of their days spent with him dragging Midas somewhere across the island. Frequenting the hotel, his hotel, that was nestled at the base of a mountain range, Montague bickering with the blue haired woman there. He smirked as he watched her and Montague argue, glad that his attitude was being directed towards someone else. 

The other days were spent with Marigold, sometimes Jules. Gathering what information they could while he scoured over different maps. The thought of being able to leave foreign to him. Exciting. Praying Montague wouldn't put up a fight when it came time to leave. That he would be leaving with them. 

He woke up to an empty bed beside him, sunlight streaming through the windows. Quietly walking towards the deck, he heard voices outside, on the deck below him. It could hear Montague say something, annoyance clear in his voice. A woman responding. He crept forwards, standing next to the railing to listen to their conversation. 

"You have never spent this much time on your boat. I only worry that you are forgetting your duties." Montague scoffed. Midas wanted to as well. It was his boat. 

"I did not forget. And now that I can not run the hotel, where else should I spend my time?" 

This time, the woman scoffed, recognizing Nisha's voice. "Are you sure that's the only reason you're here?" 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"I've seen the way you look at Midas. He's with you every time I see you now." Montague remained silent, and he could picture the glare he was probably sending Nisha. Heart beat quickening at her words. The silence continued to grow before Nisha spoke again, voice softer. "What is it about him that has you like this?" 

Midas waited, feeling like he shouldn't be listening to the conversation. Staying anyways, wanting to hear Montague's response. 

"I do not know," he finally told her, voice quiet. "He feels familiar to me. Like I have known him in another life. He makes me curious." The woman hummed, sighing softly, the sound of a chair scraping along the deck. 

"Just be careful, okay? And don't forget about next week." 

At that, Montague let out a sharp laugh. "How could I forget that?" Footsteps echoed across the deck, Midas's curiosity growing. Wondering what would be happening the following week. He stepped away from the railing, slowly making his way towards the main deck. Wanting to ask Montague about it, wondering if he should. The sound of the zip line rang out, and he watched two bodies cross towards the grassy cliff with a sigh. He would have to ask another day.

--

The humidity along the coast seemed to continue to build, almost suffocating with the heat. Midas sprawled himself in the shade, already warming up even though he had just gotten out of the water. Montague was groaning, still floating in the water before he seemed to still. Even with sunglasses covering his eyes, he could tell that the man had caught sight of something. Instantly on guard, wondering if they were about to be attacked, he stood from his chair to ready himself. 

"That is moving fast," Montague commented. Midas finally followed his gaze, heart settling even as his body tensed. Dark grey clouds ahead of near black ones were converging towards them, quickly crossing the sky. Already the sun seemed to dim, heat and stickiness maintaining. Thunder rumbled low through the sky, and Midas half expected to see them turn purple like they did in the Loop. Instead, lightning flashed through them, white illuminating through the grey. 

"Get out of the water," Midas ordered. Montague sighed, pouting as he swam towards the deck. A few drops fell from the sky, landing lightly on Midas's skin. Even the rain seemed warm right now. He sighed as he noted some of the chairs on the lower deck had cushions on them, not wanting them to get soaked. He quickly crossed the deck as Montague pulled himself out of the water, grabbing what cushions he could carry. He motioned for the other to grab the rest, flinching as thunder rumbled loudly overhead. A few seconds later, lightning flashed through the sky just over where the Underworld now rested. 

Before they could take a step, rain fell from the sky in sheets, drenching them almost instantly. He shouted in surprise, Montague dropping the cushions in favour of running for cover. He felt a laugh bubble out of him from the sight, deciding to follow suit. Already the cushions were heavy with water, no way to save them from the rain this time. As he ran towards cover, he seen Montague flail his arms as he tried to steady himself, the deck slippery from the downpour. He tried to slow himself, a look of surprise crossing his face as he slid forwards, barreling straight into Montague. Groaning as he hit the deck, Montague landing heavily on top of him, he felt another laugh slip from him at the absurdity of the situation. Not five minutes ago they had been swimming under a hot sun.

The sound of Montague's laugh made his heart race slightly. He guided Midas back up, pulling him into the yacht to finally get them out of the rain. The temperature was noticeably dropping, still warm but no longer unbearable. 

"Come with me," Montague murmured, leading him by the wrist through the ship. Bringing him up to his room, drying himself with a towel before he crawled onto the bed. "I like to watch the storms from here." Midas felt his breath catch, watching Montague pat the bed beside him. 

Midas slowly laid himself in the bed, mind swimming with memories of him and Montague waiting out the Storm on the yacht. Watching purple clouds and lightning flash through the skylights. Montague lifted his hand, tucking himself in under Midas's arm, letting his hand fall onto his chest. He traced circles across his skin, overly conscious of the way Montague's body rested against his. 

"Why is your heart beating so fast?" Montague asked quietly. He flushed, pausing as he opened his mouth. Unsure of how to answer the question. Settling on something as close to the truth as he was willing to admit. 

"You make me nervous."

Montague twisted in the sheets, face dangerously close to Midas's as he grinned at him. "I am the reason your heart races like that?" He seemed to purr at Midas's words, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Knowing the mans ego had no doubt grown in size from that confession. He let out a soft breath and the feeling of Montague's lips brushing against his, eyes meeting as lightning continued to flash in the sky, further out over the ocean now. "Good. You make mine race too." 

Midas groaned softly at the feeling of their lips pressing together, pulling Montague closer as they waited for the rain to stop. 

--

Once again, Midas found himself driving around the island with Montague. This time he was behind the wheel, the other changing the song over and over as he searched for one he liked. They passed by the large lake, Midas's stomach twisting as he imagined the Agency there. Unpleasant memories flooding him. Up ahead, the sight of a tent caught his attention, before he slammed on the brakes, Montague sliding forward in his seat with a sound of annoyance. 

Midas was already out of the car, walking up the hill towards the banana that was standing a top it. He hadn't seen Peely in too long, missing his friend, wondering how he had managed to come to this island. Raising a brow as the banana froze, he turned, watching Montague slowly cross the grass, him and Peely staring at each other with narrowed eyes. 

"Do you know him?" 

"I may have met him once or twice," Montague said with a frown, ignoring the frustrated sound that left the banana. Hands quickly moving through signs. Midas turned quickly, staring at Montague. 

"Why would you kidnap him?" 

"I did no such thing." Hands flying, Midas watched intently, nodding. Pausing, eyes meeting the bananas. A shake of his head. A sound of annoyance left Montague behind them. "What is he saying?" Another car pulled up beside the one they had driven, Montague groaning as Jones stepped out of the vehicle, hand already resting on his gun, pausing at the sight. 

"How are you alive?" His eyes darted between the two men, apprehension on his face, back to Midas. He turned, watching Jones coolly before a slow smirk crossed his face. Thinking back to his brief time in the IO headquarters, finding files filled with information of himself in Jones' office. The man had been intent on figuring him out, never quite getting enough information to stop Midas. 

"It's been a long time, Agent Jones." Jones tried to raise his gun, Midas darting forward to rip it out of his hands, turning it to press it against his forehead. Behind them, Peely made a sound of distress. Midas frowned at Jones before looking back, taking in what was being said by Peely  before he sighed, rolling his eyes and pocketing the gun. 

Montague watched the interaction with curiosity now, trying to figure out how the trio knew each other. Peely motioned with his hands, Midas watching before he nodded, beckoning Montague forward as he seated himself in one of the chairs. Still on alert, Montague stood behind Midas, not wanting to sit down and let himself be at a disadvantage. Jones watched the interaction before he rubbed a hand over his eyes, sighing. "Please tell me you're not working together." He stared at Montague blankly, eyes narrowing. "Why would you bring him out of whatever hell finally managed to trap him." 

At that, Montague seemed to growl, anger flooding him. "I am becoming tired of being blamed for others actions. I did not release the gods. I did not steal the banana. And I did not free Midas." 

At that, Jones rolled his eyes. "Of course you didn't. You just happened to be apart of all of them. Coincidentally." With a sigh, he leaned back into his own chair. "What are you doing here?" Midas shrugged at his question, gesturing to the banana. 

"Catching up with an old friend." Jones huffed, crossing his arms as the two began signing to each other. Watching Montague pace behind them with narrowed eyes. Finally, as the sun started to set, Montague ducked behind Midas's chair, murmuring something low into his ear. Tilting his head to meet his eyes, Midas nodded at whatever was said, a small smile forming, Jones watching intently. Midas stood, nodding to the banana. "It's been good to see you. We'll head out now." Turning to meet Jones' eyes, he raised a brow before giving him a curt nod. "Hopefully I don't see you again." 

Montague let out a loud laugh, hearing Midas's words as he crossed the grass towards the car. Jones watched them go, shaking his head as he looked back to the banana. "I will never understand how you could be friends with that man." Peely shrugged, a small smile on his face, waving at the car as it drove away. 

--

Waking to a cloudy sky, Midas groaned as he sat himself up. His wrist was aching, storm clouds seeming to roll over the island quickly. Ready to open up, spill their contents over everything. He sighed, making his way to the deck. Marigold was pacing, glancing over towards the large statue that jutted from the mountain. 

"What's got you so worked up?" He asked, frowning. It was rare to see her on edge like this. 

Glancing his way before turning back to the mountains, she let out a soft breath. "Montague and the others left about fifteen minutes ago. They had a lot of weapons and ammo, and I heard the tiger say something about Zeus not knowing what was coming for him." She paused, finally looking back to Midas. "I have a bad feeling about that." 

Thunder rumbled over the island, clouds twisting around themselves as Midas's heart started to beat faster. Anxiety crashing through him. Unwilling to lose Montague a second time. Lightning flashed across the sky, travelling towards the statue. Marigold picked his guns off the chair, handing them to him as he crossed the deck. Her own weapons already holstered, ready to go. She followed Midas quietly, across the zip line to the car that had been left there. He could feel the jittery feeling in his limbs, praying that they could make it to the marble city in time. Praying Montague wouldn't actually be stupid enough to try and take on a god. 

Slamming the car into park, the two of them darted out, taking the stairs two steps at a time as lightning crashed into the building in front of the statue. He could hear gun fire starting, not bothering to look at Marigold before he was running. Rain started to pour from almost black clouds, blurring his vision, blocking out the sounds of the fight. 

He took the last step towards the building, a loud boom echoing through the building before he seen Oscar fly across the room, slammed into a far wall. A harsh yell, more gun fire. Lightning illuminated the inside of the building, and he watched Montague lunge forward, crashing into Nisha as he dragged her to the ground, the flying bolt just barely missing them. He shoved her away, Midas pausing as diamond glinted across his skin, covering his arms as he darted forward, fingers sinking into the gods chest. 

A deep laugh sounded through the room before Zeus swung his hand out, sending Montague flying backwards into another wall. Fully incased in diamond now, slowly disappearing as he stood with a grimace. "Get Oscar out of here," Midas instructed, turning his gun to the god. Marigold ran forwards, lifting the tiger with ease as he slung an arm over her shoulder, legs barely able to keep himself upright. 

Midas let his gun fire as the god darted forwards, aiming for Nisha. She flew back, the smack of her head against the marble loud even over all the other sounds. Montague lunged forward once more, still oblivious of the extra help. Oblivious to his team's disappearance. Midas growled as he opened fire once more, watching as Zeus turned to him instead. That finally made Montague pause, surprise crossing his face at the sight of Midas. 

As if sensing his distraction, the god quickly sent a bolt of lightning hurdling towards the man. Midas shouted out, knowing he wouldn't be able to warn him in time, watching as the lightning struck, diamond only half covering his body. He ran forwards, ignoring the god that was letting himself drop to the floor, a dark grin on his face at the sight. Montague's breaths were shallow, a web of red lines creeping over his neck, disappearing under his shirt. The world around them seemed to fall silent, Midas's breaths overwhelmingly loud in his ears as he yanked Montague off the ground, letting gold cover him as he dragged them towards the front of the building. 

He heard the sizzle of electricity in the air, the crack of a bolt being thrown as he dropped Montague, groaning as sharp heat shot through him, body freezing for a moment. Gone just as quick, the metal of his body managing to absorb most of the hit. Again, he picked Montague up, dragging him forward, Marigold outside of the door with her gun trained at the god a welcome sight. Oscar was finally standing again, picking Nisha up off the ground where Marigold had dropped her. Turning without a backwards glance as he started towards the stairs that led out of the city.

Shots continued to ring out behind him, knowing Marigold was trying her best to keep the god distracted as he took Montague to safety. The man was still barely concious, head lolling to the side. Finally, he felt the weight lifting from his shoulders, watching Marigold slip under the mans other shoulder, helping to get him away. 

Arriving at the ship, Nisha was finally awake, a look of worry and something else crossing her face. She paced along the grass as Midas worked on getting Montague out of the car, watching as they started towards the zip line. Finally, she let out a deep breath. 

"Tell Montague that I am done." Midas paused, brows furrowing in her direction. "The Society is done. Everything I have done was to try and keep my family in good standing, but after this... I have a chance to do some good. With Hope and Jones. Tell him I'm sorry," she glanced away, shaking her head as a look of sadness crossed her face. "I just can't do this anymore." Oscar turned with her, walking beside her without a word. Midas knew he felt the same, knowing that him leaving with Nisha was more than enough to show how he felt. 

With a grunt, Midas lifted Montague to his shoulder, attaching himself to the zip line with one hand as the other held the man, making sure he didn't fall to the water below. His breaths were still shallow, and Marigold followed him to the top floor, bandages in hand. He tugged what was left of Montague's shirt off, grimacing at the network of red lines and cuts that seemed to cover his torso. Suddenly his hand felt heavy, surprised to find the shirt turned into gold. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed a bottle of saline to wash out some of the wounds that littered the marks, growling in frustration as that turned to gold as well. He reached for a stack of gauze before Marigold's hands stopped him. "Go sit, you're too worked up to do this right now." 

He took a step back, watching as Marigold's hands worked quickly. Pacing back and forth behind her before she huffed, turning to look at him. "If you're going to be breathing down my neck like that, I'll make you leave." Midas paused, eyes narrowing at her before he let himself fall into a chair. Leg bouncing, worrying his lip. Almost standing as Marigold pressed something along Montague's skin, making him wince even in unconsciousness before she whipped her head towards Midas at the sign of movement. "Stay put." Letting himself lean back into the chair in an attempt to relax his body, unable to but at least out of the way. 

Finally, she took a step away with a deep sigh. Glancing towards Midas, she raised a brow as his eyes stayed trained on Montague, lost in thought. Replaying the sight of the lightning bolt hitting him. Replaying the sound of his racing footsteps echoing through his phone just before the Agency fell. The sight of him cresting the stairs after he had first escaped the Underworld. Crashing into him in the hallway of the Agency as he ran from Midas's guards. A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts, Marigold meeting his eyes with a soft look. 

"He's going to be okay. He'll just need some time." With a curt nod, he trained his eyes back on Montague, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

"Thank you." 

She pat his shoulder lightly, disappearing down the stairs. 

--

From the lounge chair he laid in, Midas watched as Montague slowly walked along the deck, a look of frustation on his face. He remained silent, waiting for the man to sit. Finally, he heard a loud sigh, almost veering into a groan. Comically dramatic. "I am sick of this island." Midas nodded slowly, glancing over at Jules sitting at a table further back. She was watching him, just as Midas was, eyebrow raised. 

"Then let's go," he finally replied. Montague's eyes met his, confused. 

"Where will we go?" 

"Anywhere." He paused, glancing over to the black rocks that still covered the land to the north of the island. "I wouldn't mind getting away from the gods for a while." Montague crossed the deck, eyes darting behind them as Jules stood to leave. When he looked back to Midas, there was a small smirk on his face. 

"You would leave this place with me?" He traced his finger along Midas's jaw, guiding his head up for their eyes to meet. Midas felt a soft smile cross his lips as he nodded slowly. 

"I might just follow you anywhere." 

Montague bit at his lip lightly as he seemed to think over his words. Letting his thumb brush over Midas's lip as a small smile slowly crossed his face. "Good. Then we will go." 

[valeria-fortnite]

[A package wrapped in blue awaits you on your nightstand, surrounded by tiny droplets of water, a note attached to the top, reading as follows:

"The River Guard wish you a Happy Winterfest with all you hold dear, Mx. Valeria, and may joy follow you forward."

The box contains a carefully copied, hand-bound recreation of the book you examined during your tea with the Empress, Ten Breaths Of The Great Dragon. This version was new and crisp, and would not fall to age so easily as the original. But in every way except the burned cover, it was the exact same book.]

@empress-mizuki

[ Valeria had meant to open the present the night of the holiday, she had but distractions had gotten in the way and then Midas' curse left her irritated and too busy to even really look at the gift. Only given a reprise to finally pull away the wrapping when the prince found himself accosted by Deadpool, someone whom Valeria still had little interaction with. Much to her displeasure. ]

[ That was a later upset though as they stared down in mild surprise at the gift, and a little bemused at being given an assumedly handbound book after gifting Midas a similar set of gifts. It was a very welcome gift though and she flipped through the crisp pages with a smile. ]

[ She supposed she had been too standoffish and fake with Mizuki, something the empress so far showed no reason to deserve such treatment. As she continued to skim the pages she decided she'd repay the gift soon. ]

[evita-shelby]

Incantatrice

Chapter 19

Cw: offscreen murder

*Spoilers* rip Arthur

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @wandawiccan60 @zablife @call-sign-shark @cljordan-imperium

The negotiations with Polly Gray had gone well.

For letting them live and move to Boston with Ada or Australia with Polly, all she had to do was hand over Tommy Shelby. They’d give up their life of crime and never bother again.

Tommy had damned them all, it was only right that he gives up his life for them. It wasn’t like he lived anymore, he merely existed.

One man in exchange for many.

Well, two actually.

Polly didn’t know about Arthur, but Edward Ross needed to be avenged. It was the least they could do for Mrs. Ross and the other mothers of the other boys he’s maimed and killed in the boxing ring.

But that wouldn’t be traced back to them, after all, was it Changretta’s fault that Mrs. Ross had bought a gun for the occasion? Was it her fault that Arthur killed her Edward?

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” Ada Thorne asks as they meet each other for a third time in the library.

“Yes, I was one of your investors, and a guest at a charity gala my family invited you to. Don’t worry, your company will be in good hands, we Rileys got a Midas Touch when it comes to business.” Eva kept her back to her and perused the shelf some more.

Shelby had spies everywhere, Eva had rooted most of them out and now there were several here watching them. Good, she thinks as she sows seeds of suspicion between Tommy and his only sister.

Especially after it’s just them and Finn left.

“I’d ask why you are doing this to us, but I already know the answer.” The woman took the book next to hers and wisely didn’t ask for what she already knew. “What do you gain from this?”

“Justice for my husband’s father and brother, a kingdom ripe for the taking.” Eva answered honestly, no need to lie about it now. It was all going to end soon, very soon.

February 3, or near that date.

Tommy would be dead, every Shelby scattered to the wind and the Changrettas building an empire from Tommy Shelby’s ashes.

All because the man didn’t verify if the shooter had even been Italian.

“The Spiniettas fear you, don’t they?” Ada asks something even her brother and aunt didn’t seem to piece together. “They know you are the reason Luca is on a whole other level, and they know he isn’t satisfied with following orders anymore. So the two of you took your chance to leave and carve out your own place here.”

“Even your brother didn’t put two and two together, Mrs. Thorne, color me impressed.” The witch comments and yet refused to turn around. “My husband will stop once Tommy is dead. As long as you keep away from this you and your son and your little brother will live. You can even keep your share of the company.”

“I won’t betray him, if that’s what you’re asking.” The communist turned businesswoman caught her drift very well. No wonder the legal part of Shelby Company was doing so well.

But Tommy won’t trust her word either, not when Polly is betraying him and Arthur dying in an hour.

“Not asking you to, just asking you to focus on other things.” Eva smiled and gestured to Benjamin Younger waiting to meet with her just on the other side of the aisle. “You could be happy again, Ada, happy with your son and perhaps a daughter. All you have to do is step aside.”

Ada doesn’t speak, but Eva hears her agree to it anyways.

“I didn’t think the woman had it in her.” Matteo laughs in surprise when the decoys deliver the news.

It had not been planned by this, but Luca knew better than to deny a mother long overdue justice.

Arthur Shelby had been dead the moment he came into her parlor and sat there while the boy in the photograph was cold in the ground. Mrs. Ross had been told how he hurt his wife, how her sweet Edward wasn’t his last victim and given the push needed to buy herself a gun.

Only Thomas was left and soon enough he’d be joining his brothers in hell.

“No one knows rage like a mother,” Luca said taking a new matchstick into his mouth. He’d been warned of this chance in plans, of the wagon in his path and how this helped seal the deal with Polly.

A nephew is not a son, the witch had said as she kissed him goodbye this morning. You will have your enemies at your feet before the first flowers even bloom, my love.

“What makes you think your old whore will keep her word, Luca?” his right hand asked knowing Arthur was part of Polly Gray’s deal.

“She won’t want me to kill her little boy. I didn’t run out of bullets by accident, you know.” The capo couldn’t wait for Polly to know just who she was dancing with.

She’d thought herself safe believing they didn’t know she was spying for her nephew, but after today, she’ll know better.

Polly Gray overestimates herself, he knows that very well. After all, she’d thought he’d never find out about her dalliances with Gray while he was in America. Luca had to teach her a lesson, teach him a lesson too.

Perhaps after this is over Luca will tell her how he killed her husband and had her children taken away for cheating on him all those years ago.

She could hold a grudge, just not as good as he did.

“Salvatore, take us to London. I have a meeting with Sabini.” Luca ordered as he made plans to take over London even if little Aurora Sabini lives long enough to marry his son.

[loupy-mongoose]

Slowly, Randy came to his senses.

He didn't get out of bed right away. A sleep that deep and luxurious was hard for him to come by, and he was going to relish it.

What finally convinced him to get up was the smell.

Eggs. Bacon.

Mmmmmmm...

He stretched, remembering the trip and all it entailed.

Rosie...

He sat up and looked around. He vaguely remembered that Perzi had been in here with her when he'd gone to bed, but now they were gone.

He was alone.

He stood up, stretched again, and left the room.

The aroma blasted him as the door opened.

Viviana and Akoya, in human form, were busy in the kitchen. Lav, now in her Mewtwo form, was at a circular table with a plate of syrup-laden pancakes. Beside her, Midas carefully licked and nibbled at his own pancakes, while Momo was messily consuming hers. Randy chuckled at the sight of her.

Guess she'll be needing a bath soon.

Lav looked at him, paused her eating, and smiled. Morning Daddy!

The ladies both turned to him. Viv smiled at her son. Ah, good! You woke up!

Kinda hard to sleep with that in my nose. Mmm!

Viv showed her teeth, her smile turning sly. That was the plan~

I hope you got enough sleep. It's been hours, but I wouldn't blame you if you want more.

Nah. He pulled up a chair beside his children. I'm plenty rested!

His stomach growled. Lav and Midas looked at him, Midas tilting his head in curiosity. Dah hungee?

Randy smiled at the little Mew. Yes. Very. He rubbed Midas' head. Smart boy!

Akoya placed a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him, then wrapped her arms around his neck from the back. Hope it's good. I know I'm not the best at cooking, but I tried to follow directions the best I could!

Between you and Mom, I'm sure it's fantastic! He turned and pecked her on the cheek. Thank you. Thanks Mom! This and pancakes--that's a lot to make.

Viv set plates for her and Akoya down, smiling warmly at Randy. It's my pleasure! All your happy faces make it no work at all. She watched Momo slap her paws yet again into a puddle of syrup. We'll make sure Momo's bathed as well. You don't need to worry about her.

Randy took a bite, grateful at her words. Then his previous concern resurfaced. ...Where's Persim and Rosemary?

Akoya looked at him, her expression turning slightly defensive. Persim took her out for a bit. He was... really not liking being in the house. She continued before Randy could say anything. We talked it over. He'll be careful. I can't imagine Rosie will want to be apart from him at all anyway.

Randy didn't respond. He poked a bit at the food on his plate as he mulled over it all.

He and I chatted... He... He's sure you're mad at him.

...I was... But I wanna put that aside. I know he's upset about it, so I want to focus on how we can learn from this. He shrugged with a bitter chuckle. I can't exactly claim I was a great father when I started, after all. He lifted another bite to his mouth. I'll find him after I eat. I need to put that water under the bridge.

Randy walked out the back door. Before transforming to seek out his brother-in-law, he looked around the yard. Then, he spotted what he was after.

The blue and white bird, her head tilted up to the morning sunlight.

He smiled softly as he approached her. Hearing his footsteps, she turned to him, her eyes cloudy with cataracts. Hey there, Sivvy.

Sylvia's tiny white beak, chipped and streaked from age, formed into her own smile. Randy!

He took her head in his hands, gently rubbing her head with his fingers. I need to find Akoya's brother, but Mom told me you were out here. So I wanted to say hi.

She trilled happily. You didn't need to, dear boy! I know you have serious business to attend to. I'll still be here when it's settled.

He gave Sylvia's head a soft kiss. Regardless, I'm sorry I missed you yesterday. I hit a wall.

I understand! Please, don't worry about it! You take care of the hurt little one and her poor father, okay? He's worried sick.

Randy nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him. Understood. I'll do my best, Sivvy. He patted her head, backed away, and transformed. Talk to you later.

Good luck with the brother, dear!

And with that, Randy took off.

As he'd learned and practiced, he reached out with his energy. Before too long, he sensed the loud tide that must be Rosemary. He made sure the little bundle in his hand was safe, and set his course for it.

Soon, he spotted Persim floating through the trees and tall grasses. Not sure how to start, Randy cleared his throat.

Ahem.

Persim slowly turned, but not fully. The side of his face that Randy could see was filled with guilt and fear.

Randy smiled before floating to Persim's side. The orange Mew refused to make eye contact.

I'm not mad.

Persim glanced at him. His tiny daughter was clinging tightly to his chest fur, her left foot bound in a miniature splint. Perzi was supporting her with his hand.

Yes, things could've gone better.

But I can say the same about events from my past. Choices I've made...

All we can do is move on and try to do better. Learn from what's happened.

He held out his hand.

Believe me, I know it isn't easy. But Akoya and I are always here to help you, when you need it. ...Not if. When.

Persim looked at his hand, before sighing and taking it in his own.

That's... That's a huge relief... Thank you, Mate.

They exchanged soft smiles before releasing their grips.

Then Randy turned his attention to the little red Mew. He spoke softly to her. Hey, Rosebud. I know you're really scared, and probably don't see me in a good light after taking you from your dad. He handed out his bundle--a small lump of Tamato berry shavings. But I brought you a peace offering.

He held the shavings up by her until she turned. Her eyes were narrowed--a far cry from the usual silent-curiosity they usually displayed. Randy felt his heart break all over again. Would she ever have that look again?

But as he held still, her little nose started twitching, and she leaned toward the berry shreds. She carefully reached out and took some in her tiny little paw, and nibbled on it. Randy smiled, relieved to witness her eating something.

Persim gave them a warm look. You'll win her back, Mate. Just give it time.

Randy sighed as she took more of the shreds from him. Time and spicy shavings.

That's a cute nickname, by the way. Rosebud.

Randy's ear twitched. Huh? Oh, I have been calling her that, haven't I? I didn't even notice.

Mee...?

The timid voice brought his attention back at her. The little Mew was giving him a narrowed side-eye. Realizing he had strayed beyond her reach, he moved the berry shavings closer. She snatched some up and began nibbling again.

He chuckled.

Hopefully this means more spicy shavings than time...

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START

Just so you know, Rosie was fed in the morning. I don't imagine she ate much due to her stress, but she was fed. Randy's just happy to witness her eating.

Also he hasn't put his ring back on yet. XD

[goldenmechanicalheart]

No dni, Ill block as I see fit

Alright, this is how I think the timeline goes along with shipful headcannon:

-Midas was very much a king of a successful kingdom before the loop and the island became his concern.

-Jules was born :D

-It took Midas awhile to warm up to her. But she soon became all he cared about. Despite his kingdom slowly falling apart from his carelessness.

-On her birthday, Midas had a rose garden made for her. But she wasn't interested in gardens at this time and prefers to work on mechanics.

-Jules was soon old and independent enough to no longer need him around. She decided to move away from the kingdom to focus on being a mechanic. This puts Midas into a depressing spiral and misjudges his parental role.

-As wealthy as he is, he seeks more wealth in hopes to find his purpose. Only to find a curse he saw as a blessing. He tries his abilities in Jules's rose garden, thinking she wouldn't come back.

-Jules returns to find her grown roses were gold instead of red. Not only her garden, but everything she owned as well was made of gold. Upset, she confronted her father about this. Midas attempted to comfort her out of joy of seeing her again, completely forgetting about his golden touch and kills her.

-Hades enters the living world to claim Jules soul. But Midas made a deal with Hades for his daughter's life. Which he doubled crosses and practically cheated death and ran away with his resurrected daughter.

-Jules declares to never see Midas again.

-Midas finally falls from grace and discovers the Imagined Order and the loop from a certain island. He works under them before finding out Jules was on the island. He devises a plan to create his own group, soon dividing them into two factions (three if the Midas' crew counts)

-GHOST and SHADOW was born.

-With I.O distracted, Midas reconnects with Jules and creates The Device together. But it failed and caused them to separate due to the ocean flooding the island.

-Midas turns into shark bait. While Jules takes over for a bit to clean up after Midas, believing he wasn't coming back. (Or cared enough to)

-Midas escapes the shark and attempts to bond with Jules for the summer over ice cream. Which brought them a little too close for average comfort. Midas makes a promise to meet her on the Marigold yacht later that day for a surprise: Showing her his tattoo of her mechanical owl. (Edit: Although this backfires since he's topless here anyway. So anything goes)

-Midas breaks his promise after he meets Kado Throne who dismembered Midas's left (?) arm. Leaving him to Hades for the taking.

-Jules feeling abandoned decided to follow her own path alone, wanting nothing to do with him again. Until aunt Marigold informs her about Midas's whereabouts.

That's pretty much all I got.

[sequinsmile-x]

Congrats on 500 + followers! 🎉

I would love to request hand holding no 13 “linking hands together during sex” - happy writing (hopefully!) x

Thank you so much!! <3

This turned into a full-blown one shot, which I think we ALL knew was going to happen at some point with this prompt collection!

I have made this a separate fic on Ao3 so Midas Touch can keep its G Rating.

-x-

Exploration

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Emily, Zac is falling asleep.” 

She looks up from the math homework she’d been helping Jack with, grateful for the distraction. She looks over to where Jack is pointing, and smiles at the sight of her youngest, half asleep on the armchair his head nodding up and down as he continued to attempt to watch the cartoon she’d put on for him to keep him occupied. 

She stands up and walks over, running her hand over Zachary’s dark hair, idly thinking about how it would need a cut soon, “You ready for bed Zac?” 

He shakes his head, the stubbornness he’d inherited from both of his parents shining through in his dark eyes. 

“No.” 

She looks over his head to Jack and exchanges a wink with her oldest before she reaches down to pick Zachary up. He wraps his arms around her neck, one of his hands immediately curling around her hair, something he’d done ever since he was a tiny newborn. She groans as she heaves him onto her hip, the sound coming more from habit at this stage than any discomfort. 

“Mama hurt?” 

She kisses his forehead as she settles him onto her hip, “Not anymore, sweet boy,” she says as she starts to walk towards the stairs, calling over her shoulder as she goes, “I’ll be back in a little bit, Jack.” 

It had been two months since she’d been hurt on a case, a knife to the shoulder as the unsub they’d been chasing cornered her. He’d hit her with such force, shoving her into a wall as he stabbed her, that she’d cracked two ribs. The knife had broken during the attack, the tip of it chipping off against bone, and she’d had surgery to remove it. 

It meant she spent three days too many in a hospital on the otherside of the country from her children before she was released to go home. Aaron had sent the rest of the team back to DC as soon as it was clear she was ok, but he had stayed with her despite her insistence she’d be fine. She was secretly grateful for it, always able to find more comfort in his coddling than she’d ever admit. They’d called Jack and Zachary each night, their youngest too young to understand why his parents weren’t home yet, and she doesn’t think she’d ever felt relief like she had when they finally walked through the front door of their home. Aaron had caught Zachary in his arms before he could run into her, his excitement at finally seeing his mother overriding the conversations Jess and Jack had with him about how he had to be careful. 

The recovery had been brutal, much worse than she had anticipated initially. The injury to her ribs made doing the exercises she had to do for her shoulder excruciating at first, pain burning through her chest and abdomen that was a little too familiar. A phantom of her time in Paris chasing her, always at the edge of her memory, prone to catching up with her from time to time. 

What kept her grounded, the thing to remind her that she wasn’t alone anymore, was her family. Aaron fussed over her, following the doctor's orders to the letter as he made sure she took the recommended amount of time off work. He’d clearly encouraged Jack to help look after her. The young boy carried things around the house for her in a way that was entirely unnecessary, always asking if she was ok when it was just the two of them. Zachary was too young to understand that she was hurt. The almost two year old prone to a tantrum at the start when he wasn’t allowed to snuggle up with her in their usual way, so keen for his mother’s love and affection he’d cry if he couldn’t have it. 

She was better now. The ache in her ribs was a distant memory, and her shoulder was almost back to full working order. It still felt a little stiff at times, a soreness to it if she overdid it, but she was ready to go back to work properly. She’d been back in the office for a few weeks now but her doctor, and therefore her husband, were insistent on her staying out of the field at first. Which is how she found herself at home with the boys when Aaron was on his way home from a case in Idaho. 

She missed him. In more ways than one. 

One of the first questions she’d asked her doctor, to Aaron’s chastisement, had been when she’d be able to have sex. She knew from experience that she’d be warned off of it for a little while to allow herself to heal, but she’d felt the eight weeks she’d been quoted was a bit extreme. Unfortunately, Aaron had taken it very seriously, saying he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt her, that they’d have to wait until the doctor gave her the go-ahead, and she was going crazy. Every time he touched her, his hand at her lower back, or his fingers grazing her waist as they lay in bed, it felt like her skin was on fire. Burning for him in a way that was reminiscent of before they got together when she only had her dreams to go on for what it would like to be with him.

It was worse now that she knew exactly what it was like. How it felt to be taken apart by him. Loved by him. 

She’d walked away from her follow-up appointment with her doctor that afternoon with a letter saying she could go back in the field, and that all ‘normal’ activities could resume. A thought that makes her smile as she walks into Zachary’s bedroom, flicking the light on as she enters. 

“Big bed?” Zachary asks, rubbing at his eye with the hand that wasn’t wrapped up in her hair, his exhaustion slowly taking hold. He’d slept in with her whilst Aaron was away, partially because it was a comfort to both her and her son that she had allowed herself to indulge in, partially because he’d figured out how to climb out of his crib and she’d wake to find him next to her anyway. 

“Not tonight, baby,” she replies, kissing the side of his head as she paces back and forth in his room, trying to lull him to sleep so she could put him down, “You have to sleep in your own bed.” 

He frowns at her, a look that was Aaron through and through, and she has to stop herself from smiling, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep though.” 

He buries his face in her neck, his grip on her hair increasing, “Story?” 

Emily smiles and rubs her hand up and down his back before walking over to the rocking chair they still kept in the room.

“Ok, I’ll read you a story.” 

She’d read him as many stories as he wanted. 

She had plans for the big bed tonight. 

___

She waits upstairs even though she hears the door close as Aaron gets home. She smiles as she listens to him go about his routine, something she could describe in great detail if she needed to. As familiar with his as she was with her own. 

She hears both of the boy’s bedroom doors open and close again a couple of minutes later as he checks in on them. She can picture him leaning in to kiss each of their foreheads as he retucked their bedding around them.

He finally walks into their bedroom, a smirk on his face as he opens the door, shaking his head at the sight of her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else, a coy smile on her face. 

“Subtle,” he comments raising his eyebrow at her, reaching behind him to close their bedroom door. 

“The doctor signed me off,” she explains, leaning back slightly onto her elbows, ignoring the slight pull of her shoulder at the movement, “I’ve got a clean bill of health.”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, smiling widely at her, “I saw the letter you left out on the kitchen counter…including the lines you highlighted.” 

She laughs lightly, “I didn’t want you to have any doubt. As my boss. Or as my husband.” 

Aaron shakes his head again and walks over to her, leaning down to stamp a quick kiss against her lips, his smile widening as she chases him as he pulls back.

“Hi,” he says, reaching to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering at her cheek, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” she replies, seeing how his eyes flash at the double meaning. She turns her head to kiss his palm, “So much.” 

She pulls him towards her by his tie, kissing him fiercely as she holds him in place. She sighs in relief when he kisses her back, his hand still on her cheek as deepens the kiss, tasting the desperation on her tongue. 

He ends up kneeling in front of her, ignoring the crack of his knees against the floor, everything else disappearing apart from her. He’d missed this too, the last two months without her like this torture, but the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her. 

He refused to be added to the list of people in her life who had. 

He unbuttons the shirt she’s wearing slowly, paying close attention to her skin as he does so. Her breath catches in her throat as he drags his lips down her neck, nipping at her pulse point before he kisses her collarbone. He closes her eyes and loses herself in the feeling. 

She freezes when he moves to slip the shirt off of her body, his fingers catching the new scar on her shoulder. The tingling feeling left behind against the still numb skin unexpectantly pulls her out of the moment. She wanted this. Him. She always wanted him. 

She’d initiated this, she’d started it. But for a moment all she can think about is the still red line across the front of her shoulder. Yet another place she had been stitched back together, another repair on the tapestry of her skin. She can’t explain it, why she feels self-conscious, but she finds herself holding the shirt together without meaning to. Her hand seemingly reaches for it by itself, clutching at the material as she blows out a breath. 

He immediately picks up on the tension in her body, how she stiffens against him, and he pulls back. 

“Are you ok sweetheart?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

She shakes her head, “No,” she assures him, reaching out for him with the hand that wasn’t covering herself, “No you didn’t hurt me,” she sighs, familiar patience for her shining in his eyes as he stays silent, knowing her well enough to understand she’d tell him herself. “It’s the scar on my shoulder,” she smiles tightly at him, feeling ridiculous as she says it out loud, “It’s…new.” 

Aaron frowns at that, cupping her face to tilt her head so she’s looking at him, her attempt at avoiding eye contact failing. 

“I’ve seen it before, sweetheart.” 

At first, he’d helped her with pretty much everything, the combination of her ribs and shoulder injuries rendering her arm useless. He’d helped her get dressed and washed her hair for her. He’d even changed the bandages on her wound and held her hand tightly as the stitches were removed. 

This felt different. The intimacy of it making her more aware than ever of yet another change to her body she hadn’t been able to control. 

“I know,” she says, her tongue sticking out to wet her lower lip as she shrugs slightly, “It’s just…”

“Different,” he finishes for her and she nods, a smile ghosting over her face.

“Yeah. It’s different.” 

He understood. He had more scars than he could count, each a memory of something he had overcome. Something he had survived. It was one of the many things they had in common. Topographical changes across the maps of both of their bodies. Something that they both sought out in the early days of their relationship, exploring the hills and valleys they’d imagined for years. 

“You’re beautiful, Em,” he says, stroking the skin of her cheek. She smiles at him, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“You have to say that,” she whispers back, her eyes meeting his, “You’re my husband.”

“It’s true,” he says, leaning in to kiss her, his lips ghosting across hers, his breath skipping across her face, “I’ve always thought so,” She sucks in a breathe as he presses his lips to her cheek, then her neck, restarting the pattern that he’d already begun, his teeth once again nipping at her skin, “Let me show you.” 

She nods, her breath catching in her chest as he looks at her for a response, his eyes dark with desire “Yes.” 

Aaron gently pulls the edges of the shirt apart again, her hands falling to her sides as he gently pushes the material down her arms. The sleeves gather at her elbows, trapped in place as he’s distracted by her exposed skin. He trails his fingers over her shoulder, making her shiver as he pays special attention to the scar there. He leans in and kisses it, gentle affection pressed into the raised skin that, makes her nerve endings crackle. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says again, his hands ghosting down to her as he guides her to lay down, standing so he can look at her properly, “So fucking beautiful.” 

Her cheeks burn from his compliments, from the way he’s looking down at her, but her reply is cut off as he turns his attention to the small scar on her left breast. He leans down to press his lips against the four-leaf clover she had never removed, something she once hated now a sign of what she had overcome. He sucks a bruise next to it before moving on, a silent declaration that she was his that he’d been making since the very first time they’d done this. A primal claiming of her that she thinks she should hate, but can’t bring herself to. 

She closes her eyes as he strokes his fingers over the scar under her ribcage, the biggest of them all by far. It was large, a starburst of scar tissue across her abdomen that had been further warped by pregnancy, the thick white skin stretched almost to its limit from when their son had laid underneath it. She finally realises what he’s doing, how he’s reminding her of everything she’d survived to be here with him. That her scars were as much a part of her to him as her smile. As the way she loves him. 

Sometimes, she found herself wishing that he’d known her before any of it. That she’d given into her desires in those early days and fucked him in his office. Back before either of them had faced off with their monsters and come out the otherside, fractured but not broken, but forever changed. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, her hand finding purchase in his hair, her fingers tangling in amongst the short locks. 

“Fucking perfect,” he mutters, his words muffled against her skin, lost in the magic that was his wife. The woman he still couldn’t believe was his. He shifts again, kissing the thin scar at the very bottom of her stomach, just about her pubic bone. A sign of another thing she’d got through, the birth of their son that had become very scary very quickly. 

It reminded him of her strength, of how she’d clearly been terrified as the doctors explained they needed to get Zac out now but how she’d tried to assure Aaron that everything would be ok. Tears shining in her eyes as she held his hand, her body once again torn open for something she couldn’t control. 

He pulls back from her and Emily gasps, cool air hitting her skin. She pushes herself up on her elbows and watches as he pushes her legs apart as he kneels down again, his hands running up her thighs, making her twitch as the callouses of his fingers make goose pimples spread over her skin. He shifts closer, his broad shoulders pushing her legs even further apart, his hands hooking around her thighs. The anticipation makes her shiver, the knowledge of what he could do with her making her skin fizz, love for him crackling under her skin. 

Aaron leans in and licks through her, groaning at the taste of her, and she throws her head back. She has to tamper down her moan, well aware of the kids sleeping just down the hall. 

“Fuck,” she grunts, her thighs tightening around his shoulders, “Aaron.”

He pulls back from her just enough to press a kiss to her inner thigh, biting at her skin in a way she knows will leave a bruise.

“So good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing her skin again, “So good.” 

He dives back in before she can respond, his tongue relentless against her as he steals the words from her throat. He builds her up slowly on purpose, using his acute knowledge of her, of her body, against her. By the time she tips over the edge, it feels like every nerve ending in her body is on fire. She somehow has the ability to think just enough to cover her mouth, to muffle the moan that escapes her as he pulls pleasure from her. 

He barely stops, and she laughs, pushing at his head with a breathless chuckle, “Fuck, Aaron. Stop.”

He pulls away immediately, looking up at her, “You ok?”

“I’m more than ok,” she replies, trying to regulate her breathing again, “But I want you.” 

He smiles at her and stands up, the sound of his knees popping loud in the otherwise quiet room, and she laughs as she watches him take off his clothes, not worrying about hanging them up neatly for once as he lets them fall to the ground. 

“Are you ok there, old man?”

He glowers at her, eyes narrowed playfully, “I’ll show you old.” 

She sits up, finally removing the shirt of his that she was wearing and throwing it on the floor as she moves a little further up the bed.

“Is that a promise?” 

She laughs a little too loudly when he joins her on the bed, the sound brought to an abrupt stop as he kisses her fiercely, the taste of her on his lips as he lays on top of her, finding the usual comfort that he did in the cradle of her hips. 

Aaron reaches between them and guides himself into her, groaning at the familiar sensation, pressing his forehead into hers. She hooks a leg around him, encouraging him to carry on. 

He links their hands by her head, squeezing their fingers together as they establish their rhythm, something they had perfected long ago. He loses himself in the feel of her, the way she clenches around him, her face pressing into his shoulder. He can tell when she is getting close, a familiar catching of her breath in her chest that was always the first sign, followed closely by her leg tightening around him, her heel pressing into his back. 

He unclasps one of his hands from hers and reaches between them, delicately running his finger over her in a pattern he had memorised their very first night together. Her spare hand hooks around him his shoulder, blunt nails digging into his skin as she tips over the edge. He follows soon after, suppressing his groan into her collarbone, his teeth sinking into her skin in a way he knows she won’t thank him for the next time she has to get dressed for work. 

They lay there for a moment, the only sound in the room their heavy breathing before he pulls back to look at her.

“You ok?” He asks again, his voice thick with desire and love and something she’s never been able to name. 

She wants to be annoyed at him. Wants to roll her eyes, but she can’t. Too blissed out and in love with him to be frustrated at the fact that he cared so much. The way he loved her was something she once thought wasn’t real. Something she’s sure she’d consider coddling if it was anybody other than him. 

“I’m fine, honey,” she replies, the hand on his back moving to push some hair off of his forehead, her smile soft as she looks at him, “I love you.” 

He leans down to kiss her, a quick thing against her lips as he squeezes the hand that was still in his. 

“I love you too.” 

___

Aaron wakes up to the feel of tiny hands on his face. Little fingers digging into his cheeks. He opens his eyes and is met by the sight of his youngest son, the low light of the room just enough for him to see his face. 

He’s immediately grateful that he and Emily had showered and changed before bed, and that she’d convinced him to change the bedding. The days of getting through the night without some kind of interruption were behind them, although he wouldn’t change what he had now for anything. 

“Zac?” 

“Daddy!” He exclaims a little too loudly, clearly excited to see him, “Missed, Daddy.” 

Aaron sighs, reaching out for his son and heaving him onto the bed, shaking his head as the toddler immediately snuggles into him. 

“I missed you too, buddy,” he says, kissing the top of his head, “You have to be quiet though, Mommy is asleep.” 

“No she isn’t,” she grumbles from next to him, rolling over to face the two of them. The fake annoyance in her voice is given away by the smile on her face. Zachary immediately reaches out for her, and she gathers him into her arms. She shifts towards Aaron so their son is snuggled between the two of them, “Hi sweet boy.” 

“Hi, Mama,” he says sleepily, already yawning as if he wasn’t the one who had woken them both up. Emily makes eye contact with her husband and smiles, running her hand up and down their son’s back as he falls asleep on her. 

“How did he even get out of his crib?” Aaron asks, breaking out into a yawn.

“Oh, he can climb out of it now,” she replies simply, smiling at the horror in his eyes. He shakes his head at her, “He figured it out this week. I think it’s time we get him into an actual bed.” 

Aaron reaches out for her hand and links their fingers together. “He is 100% you.” 

She frowns at him, narrowing her eyes, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“No,” Aaron smiles, leaning down to kiss her. “It’s a good thing, sweetheart. The best.” 

-x-

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[atropinenightshade]

Masquerade of life and Death idea excerpts

He didn’t believe what was said to him. Her life for his? It was absurd. She survived too much just to learn that she would die so soon. She seemed healthy as of now, even after… well, he didn’t want to think about that. But perhaps– could it have been that thing which damned her? Was Death tricking them all, just finding any excuse to get her? Also, some other disturbing prophecies from those blasted seers were eating away at his mind. Prevention was the best measure. Those things didn’t have to come true if Rafal was careful enough. She didn’t have to die if he could watch out for things that could possibly kill her. 

and:

Of all the ideas on earth they could think she was, they decided to believe she was a succubus and send her back to hell with the flames. Rafal was now less hated, though still punished for following the wicked path of dark magic and vice. But it was mostly her being a demon and luring him in. Maybe she would have laughed about it if she wasn’t about to burn. Maybe she would have made some retort, such as St. Laurence being burned to death and going to Heaven rather than Hell. But in this inconvenient situation, it would only make matters worse.  She could spot that one particular Midas in the crowd, giving Rafal a “I told you so” kind of look. And he wasn’t wrong in doing so. Only, she wished he could use his clever little brain to help instead of– “Thanks a lot, Blanche,” Rafal hissed, interrupting her wild stream of thoughts. “You seriously associated yourself with the Elders of this town? Not even a commoner. The religious leaders who have sway over this entire community.” “How rich of you to say such things,” she spat. “You were the one being so obvious with that poor young Arabella. You’re lucky none of the others followed us here, considering the fact we are supposed to be engaged.” “Our engagement is an act. They know that already.” “Yes, but everyone else outside our little circle, such as your prudish, stiff-necked family, doesn’t. But you should keep your mouth shut because we are running out of time. They are approaching us with matches and probably will spare us by a few minutes with some ridiculous speech.” “I wasn’t saying anything unimportant.” “Hypocrisy and ego are very unimportant things, if you’re asking me. But you never do, so I won’t waste my time beating a dead horse.

these may be edited when they have a final draft with a set plot but here are things i definitely want in my fic.