#being treated like a stupid little piece of property my beloved!!!!

[acidiccunt]

my forehead says “stupid” btw <3

[fetus-cakes]

Furiosa: some jumbled thoughts

I genuinely think Mad Mad: Fury Road is one of the best modern movies ever. I rarely ever like prequels/sequels to beloved 80's franchises and yet Fury Road had me thinking and talking about the themes and storytelling for literal years after the movie was out. I even got the soundtrack and played it constantly while driving.

So! That means I had insanely high expectations for Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga. I don't think I was ever going to be 100% happy with any origin story for Furiosa, as nothing can really beat the limitless potential of an untold story. I still tried to go to the theatre with an open mind. Alas I was disappointed.

My verdict: Mediocre! much like when Nux ate shit right in front of his idol, this movie fails to stick the landing.

so my first complaint is: SHE HAD LONG HAIR WHAT IS UP WITH THAT SHIT

it's not just an aesthetic choice, in a world where a person fights all the time and she got to repair the engine while the truck is moving, long hair is a LIABILITY. it's going to get caught in a wheel and rip her WHOLE scalp offfffffff her whole scalp!

plus. it looked like a perfectly coiffed wig, which is so out of place in the WASTELAND. how does hair the wasteland look? it should be DIRTY and OILY, there's no fucking shampoo. instead her wig only got a little dusty at the end. here's my actual biggest complaint: it felt that they were contractually obligated to use the exact same sets, costumes and characters as Fury Road; we BARELY got introduced to any new people or places. EVERYONE looks the exact same as they do in Fury Road, which takes place NINETEEN YEARS after the events here

it's so so fucking boring that Immortan Joe, People Eater and Bullet Farmer look THE EXACT SAME as they do in Fury Road

in Fury Road there's the implication that Joe is slowly dying of various tumours and diseased flesh, but he used to be younger and healthier. we should have seen fit, strong Joe at his prime and maybe this was the START of his health problems; if this movie was any good we should have seen why he wears that teeth mask (it's to hide his possibly cancerous jaw)

People Eater has both syphilis and elephantiasis, both implied to be diseases he got from being a cannibal, but by the time you lose your nose and your leg looks so swollen those are later stages of those diseases, he's close to death in Fury Road. if he has no nose and a swollen leg at the start of Furiosa, that means he held on to life and sanity for nineteen years, which is very very unlikely Fury Road makes a BIG DEAL that Joe cares about his "wives". He treats them like property and obviously is a rapist piece of shit, but he does care a lot about what happens to them

you're telling me that Joe of all people wouldn't rip the entire citadel inside out looking for Furiosa went she went missing?

that he's so stupid he couldn't put two and two together that a little girl went missing from his harem and later a teenage girl appears "out of nowhere" among his warboys? and this teenage girl seems unusually healthy and capable, unlike most of the children of the wasteland? Furiosa SHOULD have been about her victimization at the hands of Joe and her many many attempts to escape, WHICH ARE MENTIONED IN FURY ROAD. instead we see her trying to run away once (1) and she never gets punished by Joe. her anger at him in Fury Road makes no sense now

I wouldn't say I want to see rape in a movie like this, but we got set up to think there's a lot more sexual violence in the wasteland. it's explicit in the Road Warrior, it's implicit in Fury Road

we got set up to think Furiosa was a "wife" or was at least the victim of Immortan Joe in a way like that we know for a fact that JOE has set up a system in which women, especially healthy women who can have children, are at a premium and he gets first dibs there's a very unsubtle gender divide in the Citadel that we know is Joe's doing because he's the one obsessed with having healthy babies and knowing this, they're expecting us to believe Furiosa was never the target of unwanted sexual attention? in this society that Joe specifically set up so women could be victimized? I have a hard time believing it

I really am not saying I want Furiosa to be the victim of sexual assault, but I do want them to give us a good reason why she is NOT when the previous movies have established this is a regular thing.

like we could have a scene where she escapes the harem very violently but gets caught, Joe might decide she's too much trouble to keep as a breeding stock but she's feisty and strong so he will give her a chance as a War Boy, and he gets to imply that he will force her to bear children if it she's not a good fighter what we get instead is that she dressed up as a boy (and somehow doesn't get caught for years despite her disguise being shit) and then gets taken up under the wing of Praetorian Jack and she doesn't disguise her gender anymore; and Joe doesn't care?? huh???

I WISH this movie was more about Immortan Joe establishing his own cult of personality that we see fully formed in Fury Road.

it would have been so good to see War Boys not quite as manically loyal to him until he comes up with the idea that HE is a god-king that will take the boys to paradise (Valhalla) 19 years is a good timeline to establish that sort of lore about himself. the fact that they ALREADY have it when Furiosa comes to the citadel is so SO boring

it's so boring that basically NOTHING changed in the citadel for 19 years, there was no power grabs or changes in hierarchy or changes to the lore that Joe has about himself everything was consistent and running smoothly for Joe for nearly twenty years? in a wasteland where resources are extremely scarce and people are CONSTANTLY murdering each other for water, gasoline and food? stability? in THIS economy?

it would have been more interesting if part of the movie was that someone else had the Citadel and then Joe came and took it and established his own society; and we see Furiosa trade one insane warlord for a different (perhaps worse) one literally one of the things that makes the Mad Max universe cool and fascinating is that the more fractured society gets, the more people in their own little pocket cities reinvent society with their own set of insane rules the only good thing about Thunderdome was the the fact that they had the Thunderdome to settle their disputes!

loyalty is a biiiiiiig theme in Fury Road, both in how Immortan Joe artificially enforces it with his cult of personality and how Furiosa and Max have the real thing for each through shared trauma it's so insane to me that loyalty from Furiosa to Joe is not addressed ONCE, it's something that he would demand from her he just accepts that she works for him? Joe is 1000% the sort of man who would force Furiosa to shoot her own friend to prove her loyalty to him, but we don't see anything like that

(this point is minor compared to the rest) I never understood chris hemsworth as Lord Dementus, like what the fuck is his deal he got better towards the end of the movie, but the first half he was so over the place was he gonna rape Furiosa's mom? no? why does he want to have the pretty girl-child so badly? is HE a pedophile? no? he likes children, but not in a creepy way? then why does he act so weird with her is he a capable war lord or just an idiot? hard to tell! why doesn't he sell Furiosa to Immortan Joe as soon as Joe expresses interest? slaves are a premium resource! if he really likes Furiosa, then why does he relent and give her to Joe when it's clear she's going to be breeding stock? it's like they saw Lord Humungus from Road Warrior and said "we want this character but without the S&M gay shit, oh oops but if he's interested in little girls that's bad in a different way"

we barely see Furiosa kill anyone in this movie, she doesn't even join in the WAR (the war that she SHOULD join to show her loyalty to Joe so he would trust her with the war rig!!) in Fury Road she is both ruthless and efficient killer. She's not cruel, but she has zero time to compassionate. someone explain to me how the hell she got to that point without murdering people up close and personal as a younger woman. in Fury Road she is NOT afraid to get into close quarters violence with Max, despite not having a gun and having the handicap of missing her arm (and not having her prosthetic one on). this tells us she's someone who KNOWS how to fight, someone who doesn't hesitate to kill

final thoughts: the music was so anemic, during one of the war rig fights I literally found myself thinking "where's the music? the music is supposed to get us pumped up for the action right now. I don't feel the adrenaline these characters feel!" did they record ANY new music for this movie? or was it all from the Fury Road soundtrack?

final final thought: Lord Dementus being used as living fertilizer for the peach tree is so stupid and impossible. It would have been better to shown him as a corpse, rather than someone who impossibly stayed alive for months or years for a sapling to grow. Did she implant the peach pit in his dick?

Showing clips from the original movie on a sequel should be cardinal sin in filmmaking. It's like they don't trust the audience to remember, or they're telling us "you liked this right? remember how much you liked this, you'll have positive associations with this current one!" do not remind me I could be watching a better movie instead of this

[mrs-gucci]

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way). 

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property. 

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers. 

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms. 

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight. 

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back. 

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house. 

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him. 

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him. 

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump. 

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more. 

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room. 

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable.  Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence. 

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change. 

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you. 

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging.  “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises. 

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length. 

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance. 

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches. 

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace. 

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly. 

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate. 

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

-

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day. 

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

[slytherinknowitall]

Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks

Chapter 6: Early Advances Between Dusty Phials

(Click here for chapter 5!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Even though she would have never admitted it to anybody – especially not to her friends or the Potions Master himself – Hermione started to regret being Snape’s apprentice relatively soon. After embarrassing herself so severely and barely being able to hold back her tears during their first lesson, it only went downhill from there.

Having to create the start-of-term assignments for all years (except for her own, of course) turned out to be the most pleasant task the teacher had planned for her. After only a few weeks of working under Professor Snape, her back was already in constant pain from crouching over to finely mince hundreds upon hundreds of Alihotsy leaves, her hands were terribly calloused from pestling the rock-like horns of Catalonian Fireballs, and her eyes were reddened and unceasingly burning after spending dozens of hours over bubbling cauldrons while stirring various types of concoctions. Even though she had always loved the art of potion-making and was actually thinking about pursuing a career in that field, she was now questioning whether or not she should continue with the apprenticeship. To make matters even worse, the Quidditch trials had started at the beginning of the second school week which meant that Ginny, Harry and Ron were too busy to spend a lot of time with her. And so only a few days into her final year, the teenager already felt pathetically lonely.

“I just don’t understand why he’s being so nasty to me,” Hermione thought grimly as she made her way from the light-flooded Advanced Arithmancy Studies classroom on the castle’s first floor to the bitter cold depths of the dungeons. Earlier this morning, an owl had delivered a note from her tutor to the window of her small suite. It had instructed her to come to his office at 10 a.m., despite the fact that that was her free period.

“I’ve never had these kinds of problems with any other professor! I mean, not to sound smug, but I’m one the most accomplished students Hogwarts has ever seen – and Head Girl on top of that! Every other teacher is at the point where they almost treat me as their equal, but Professor Snape doesn’t even show me an ounce of respect. Why does he have to be so vicious and mean? Unlike Harry, Ron and his ‘oh so cherished’ Slytherins, I at least put some genuine effort into my work. And yet he still hates me for some reason!” The young witch furrowed her brows as her light steps echoed across the grey stone floor.

“And he’s not even taking his job as my instructor seriously! How will hours of scrubbing stinky cauldrons and polishing the classroom’s desks help me in becoming better at brewing potions?”

Soon enough, she reached the heavy door leading to the professor’s office. Before she had the chance to knock, however, a disgruntled “Enter!” resounded from the room on the other side. Pushing the door open, she caught a first glimpse of the pale man’s moody expression. “Great,” she thought to herself. “It’s not even midday and he’s already in a sullen mood. Lucky me!”

“You’re late,” he snarled before she could even take a step into the room.

*************** *************** ***************

“Late? But it’s only two past ten, Professor!” the girl said with a quick glance at her wristwatch.

A look of surprise crossed Snape’s face for a millisecond before he was able to mask it. The small Muggle device looked almost identical to the one he had on his wrist at this exact moment; they were both made of the same plain black leather. While most electrical devices did not work at Hogwarts, old-fashioned watches seemed primitive enough to not go haywire around all the magic. He himself had found this out during his own years as a student, but he had yet to encounter anybody else who also knew of that piece of information. So he was genuinely caught off guard.

The Potions Master growled quietly. He was more than irritated with himself over this little surge of emotion. “Don’t be foolish, Severus! Sooner or later, some student who grew up in the Muggle world would have been bound to discover this detail. That stupid brat isn’t special in any way,” he berated himself.

“I do believe my note said ten o’clock, not two past ten.”

“Well, yes, but I had Advanced Arithmancy Studies until ten. Even though I left early, it still takes a few minutes to get from the first floor down to the dungeons, sir.”

“Aren’t you a witch, Miss Granger? As one, being punctual should be an easy task. I do seem to recall a period of time when you were able to attend several classes simultaneously. Yet you cannot arrive on time to a simple meeting?”

He saw her open her mouth to fire back, but he quickly cut her off. “Anyway, it is not my job to teach you basic manners. For your tardiness, I shall deduct ten points from Gryffindor. Now that that’s settled, let’s move on to the actual reason of why I ordered you here.”

She frowned in frustration as he continued. “Yesterday, our beloved gamekeeper decided to introduce the first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to a pack of Crups. Interesting creatures, I’ll admit; however, he seems to have forgotten to warn them about the beasts’ dislike for Muggles beforehand. Two Muggle-born Hufflepuff students, fraternal twins to be exact, wore hand-knitted scarves made by their mother. Irritated by the scent, the alpha male attacked the both of them. Thankfully, they didn’t obtain any severe injuries, but they are suffering from concussions and are still slipping in and out of consciousness. Madam Pomfrey has therefore asked me to prepare two fresh batches of Wideye Potion. As this is an urgent matter and the potion already takes a long time to brew as it is, I require your help to speed up the process.”

The brunette had a shocked expression on her face. “Two injured students? Why was I not informed of this immediately?! As Head Girl, it is my duty to –“

Severus cut her off. “Lighten up, would you? I am sure that Madam Pomfrey had other things in mind while she was busy caring for those two students. Besides, it would have been unnecessary anyway. What would you have done – go to the infirmary and hold their little hands?”

The young woman was visibly boiling inside but kept her mouth shut. He continued, “I have asked Mr Filch to supervise the students I would have normally taught this period. Since they were given a written assignment and aren’t working on a potentially dangerous potion, he should be able to manage. However, this means that the classroom is occupied. I therefore have no other choice than to use my personal laboratory for this task.” He could see her hazel eyes light up immediately.

“Don’t get any foolish ideas, Miss Granger. This will be a one-time-only occurrence. As you will enter my private chambers, I will expect you to behave accordingly. You will not touch anything or move around freely unless permitted. You will also not mention the fact that you entered my rooms to anyone.” The wizard made a small pause before carrying on. “We will be using ingredients from my personal storage room, which you shall use sparingly. I will require your help for the first few steps after which the potion has to brew for several hours. Following this, I will perform the final steps on my own and then deliver the bottles myself after dinner. Now, we shouldn’t waste any more time. Follow me.”

Standing up abruptly, Snape left through the office door and started to make his way through the dungeons’ winding hallways. Not once looking back to make sure that his apprentice was still behind him, he soon made a turn and entered a small passageway hidden behind a statue of a famous wizard, who lived during the 17th century. Reaching the unsightly painting leading to his quarters and ignoring the tedious knight living inside it as always, he quickly muttered his password – of course, making sure to be quiet enough so that the witch couldn’t hear it. When the frame swung to the side, the both of them entered and found themselves in the teacher’s sitting room.

He could see her look wander across the room, and he knew that she must have been taken aback by its appearance. Except for a small open-hearth fireplace and a black wooden door on each wall, every single inch of vertical space was covered in old, battered book shelves, which literally held thousands of literary pieces. Severus had always been a bookworm and while he owned an impressive collection of wizarding books – some of which were rare one-of-a-kind volumes – he also possessed a wide array of Muggle classics. And though he had always been a true Slytherin, the former Death Eater hadn’t found it necessary to decorate his quarters in the corresponding colours. Truth be told, there wasn’t a splatter of silver or emerald green to be found in any part of his private chambers. The two big wing chairs facing the fireplace were of a deep purple colour and the fuzzy rug on the floor in front of them was midnight blue. The large mirror hanging above the mantel as well as the elegant chandelier lightening up the room with faint candle light were coated in yellow gold. In the back of the sitting room, there was also a navy blue sofa and a small table made of Macassar ebony next to an old-fashioned secretary loaded with dozens of pieces of parchment paper and some ink-smeared quills.

Before the student could take in anything else, Severus ushered her through one of the four doors which led to the Potions Master’s pride and joy: his private laboratory. It was a rather cold room, only embellished by the countless phials in all the colours of the rainbow that lined it. Over the years, he’d equipped his workroom with numerous appliances and tools from all over the world, thus making it a potions lab even the most experienced brewers would give a finger for. He kept it immaculately clean too as dust and other forms of dirt could easily distort the ultimate result of a potion. No one, not even the headmaster himself, had ever set foot in this room. And now he was standing here with the insufferable know-it-all. Severus sighed internally.

“All right, Miss Granger,” he said. “We shall start immediately. I am sure that you have had the Wideye Potion recipe memorised since I taught it to you during your third year.”

She nodded her head to confirm. “Good. While I will begin by crushing the snake fangs and the Standard Ingredient, I would like for you to heat up the Dried Billywig Stings in that cauldron over there. Remember that since the infirmary is in need of two batches, we will need to double the amount of every single component. You may take the required ingredients from my storage room in the back, but do not touch anything else.”

For a short while, they worked in silence. Using an antique mortar obtained during a recent journey to Bulgaria, Severus was so focused on his task that he’d almost forgotten about his student’s presence in the room. Once he had finished and looked up, however, he had to gulp. Having taken off her long robes and grey jumper, Granger was biting her chapped lips in concentration as she was standing bent over the bubbling cauldron, which was almost half her size. The first few buttons of her white blouse had been opened and its sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Due to the heat and steam coming from the boiling potion, her brown locks were clinging onto her forehead as a few beads of sweat were rolling down from her pale face to her slender neck.

The half-blood quickly turned away. It was the first time that he noticed that the girl he had taken a dislike to during the very first lesson he’d taught her was not the same bushy-haired 11-year-old child with the buck teeth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, she had blossomed into an attractive young lady right in front of his eyes.

“Attractive?! She’s my student! I must have been lacking female company for a bit too long if I am starting to have impure thoughts about the Golden Trio’s Hermione Granger herself,” he criticised himself angrily.

“Sir?”

Alarmed, Severus turned around only to stare directly into the widened eyes of the Gryffindor Princess. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that I’m done with the Dried Billywig Stings and would now like to add the rest. If you’re finished, that is,” she said, seemingly a bit out of breath. The wizard noted that her cheeks were slightly blushed.

“Ah, yes, Miss Granger … Go ahead.” He frowned at how hoarse his voice suddenly appeared to sound.

(Click here for chapter 7!)

[kisbunzies]

Nights in the garden

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It’s always cold in her dad's garden at night . There were cracks in the mountain that let in sunlight and breezes from the outside world so the mountain tended to reflect the weather up there . she sat on her swing , the one she and her brother asriel built together. How late was it like 3am ? everyone else is probably asleep , except dad he somehow manages to work until sunrise. “Welp might as well give up and head in-”

“Heya flower girl. I see your just *hangin around* there”

“Sans! What are you doin up ? “

“My dads working late . you”

“Same . and for once chara’s asleep.”

Sans and lucida had know eachother since day one but they became bestfriends when they were six because he snuck into to the royal garden. they also learned they both were obsessed with earthbound. It was learned too quickly that Lucida loves bad jokes and will laugh for hours at sanses puns and pranks .

Not long after their friendship started they learned something else they had in common . sleep issues

Lucida and sans both got vivid nightmares , alot of the times about the same thing. It was scary but being able to talk to eachother about it was nice , heck asgore even bought luci a dream book so they could figure out what they meant , but the dream lucida had tonight was special

“So yeah i had a dream both my siblings were consumed by ravenous buttercups”

“Thats weird , i uh had a similar dream”

“You dreamed my siblings were eated by buttercups ? kinda s-”

“No its was different but the same”

“Explain ???”

Lucida got down from the swings and onto her elbows onto the ground infront of where sans was , he seemed to be thinking nervously about what he was gonna say . different but the same , thats never happened before

He took a deep breath in before quickly saying

“I dreamed that you ran into the buttercups after some voices and for some reason i tried to stop you but you insisted that you could help them and then and then and then”

“Sans calm down take your time”

“When you reached the buttercups one ,,,, shot through your skull and just dropped you infront of me”

“Oh well then , dont know what to say to that”

“Luciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”

“Im joking im joking , but sans”

She put her hand on his shoulder

“Im sure its gonna be fine

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

It wasn’t fine

Years after the day that came to be know as “the incident” , things had changed so much for the two it sometimes shocked lucida that her life was considerably normal at one point , chara and asriel were gone , her parents were divorced , she spent the majority of her life till that point in the hospital

To be frank , life for lucida dreemurr was a mess

Walking through the garden she’d spent the happiest days of her life felt dull , each things filled with memories of the past

Wow look it a snail , mom loves those things

Yeah and mom also eats emm too

Chara , you know thats not funny

Aww cmon , im just tellin the truth , when she runs outta butters she replaces it with snail slime

Ewww luci stop them

As she walked over to the old swing , her eyes filled with tears , flowers blooming out of the sockets as she sat down on the old contraption . her and azzy used to spend hours pushing eachother on it trying to see how high they could fly while chara recorded with an old camera they found in a pile of trash . she’d have to go back and look at those recording sometime.

“Oh hey luci , didn’t notice you there”

“Sans ?”

She looked around until she found him , sitting in some flowers that never seemed to die no matter how ruined they were . she walked over to sit next to him noticing his demeanor , this was gonna be a rough conversation

“Yup thats me”

“Heh , guess you never broke the habit of breaking into my parents property huh ?”

“Hey su casa mi casa amirite”

“Thats not how the saying goes but sure”

Sans chuckled just a bit before looking down at the ground at something , it was a piece of fabric and a name tag

W.d gaster

“Missing him again”

“Yeah , i know its stupid but-”

“Sans it not stupid ! your going throw the loss of a loved one , thats tough crap to deal with I SHOULD KNOW”

“yeah”

Lucida looked at , Sans who wasn’t smiling . it just didn’t look right for the guy not to smile . He was usually the funny skeleton who could make anyone smile , you knew shit really hit the fan when sans the skeleton didn’t smile

“I remember him , he was a good dad”

“He always treated you like family huh”

“Oh remember when you and me were like 7 and like he somehow taught me and you fucking sign language in one afternoon and my mom thoughts we were throwing up gang signs”

“Yeah and she freaked out and tried to get your pops to put the entire underground on watch because of it”

“JASHGJH and the week before he let us burn veggietales in an incinerator cause he hated it and my mom thought he was spreading anti christian progaganda”

“OMFG AND SHE TRIED TO GET ME AND PAPYRUS BAPTIZED AND HE BIT THE PRIEST”

“AND GASTER JUST BURST INTO THE CHURCH AND GRABBED YOU AND PAPYRUS BY THE COLLAR AND LEFT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED”

“JSAHJGHJHGhjadghj yeah , he was cool , im gonna miss him”

“Me too , he might have been pretty chaotic and kinda outta order”

“Omg sans he’s your DEAD FATHER”

“But he was just a good person who wanted to help at heart”

Lucida looked at the badge and motioned for sans to let her see it , she noticed that in the corner there was a little black smudge of some unknown material

“You know , we should put his badge in like a monument or something”

“You think they’d let us do that”

“Of course sans , he did save the life of the royal families only surviving child afterall”

“And made the core”

“And just build the basis of monster science in general”

“A monument would be nice , considering we didn’t get to have a funeral”

Luci looked at sans with a purely sympathetic look , tilting her head a to dully smile at him. Putting her arm around his shoulder she spook what she didn’t know were on of the last time she’d remember his name

“W.d gaster , beloved royal scientist and father , inventor of core”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

hope you enjoyed this random oc fic i wrote at 1am because sleep is terrifying and i wanted to start actually telling people about lucida's backstory

also im not a sans simp HEY HEY LISTEN IM N-

[ladyreneeslore]

Arwen’s Stories

My name is Arwen and once I was all alone. I'm not sure about my early years, the memories are hazy and distant and I imagine that is for the best. I was still quite young when I met first my Paladin. In those early days we were always alone and I was frightened all the time. I had no family to remember and his memories where something that he did not wish to think or speak on at length, and while he has certainly spoken to me enough over the years to piece together his earlier life, that is his story to tell, or not. When he encountered me first I was hiding in a cave and nursing a badly torn wing. Seldom do we fae invoke sympathy in the heart of others, as our speech lends a sense of detachment whether that is our intent or not, but Paladin tells me that while he heard my physical voice as real and substantial as it was, that he also heard my words in his head in a different voice, soft and hurt. He still hears me this way, as no other has ever done so in the many years since. While it long baffled me, it never seemed to shake him for a moment as he says that he knew immediately that he had heard the voice of my soul speaking to him and that [i][/i]it[i][/i] is my true voice, not the physical one. Oh, but he would not share these thoughts with others, and I only share them with you as part of our history to be read years after we have left this life. For a great while we were alone, he caring for my wounds as we traveled the lands of my awakening, the Viridian Labyrinth.  He only remembers that he came a great distance and that he followed the windsinger . While I was recovering fresh injuries incurred in a mad flight from a small and angry beastclan, Paladin was covered in a myriad of fresh wounds and old scars. The greatest one could be seen only in his eyes.  In fact, in the beginning when I asked his name he hung his head in sorrow and shame and told ne he did not have one. I was dumbfounded.  I have since heard of extremely pious dragons chosing to call themselves "Unnamed" to reflect any honor or glory they achieve onto their deity, but he was only slightly older than myself and I was not long into early adulthood. I swiftly decreed that I would name him and it would be a grand name to reflect himself. After all, I had chosen my name from a delightful book I had read. He demurred but only a bit, I rather think he liked the owning of a name and one given him based on his personality. I told him to give me a fortnight and I would chose his name and we would have festivities and make a party of it. He blushed a bit, but agreed. Within those two weeks I cannot begin to tell you how much of an adventure we had and how many times I would have died where it not for my dearest confidant. He never showed the slighest concern for himself, he always looked after my safety first. After that fortnight was up we made camp and broke out our stores of food, a plethora of insects for myself and meat (yuck) for my stalwart companion. For much of our travels I had settled on his shoulder and held on tight, for Mirrors are very fleet of foot. After we were all situated to eat I pulled out a sparkly cerdae horn (thanks to my companion's skill) and instructed him to drop to his bended elbows before me. He quirked that eyebrow at me, but complied and I touched each of his shoulders in turn with the horn, being sure to sprinkle a little of the beautiful dust on him each time and said "I, the Lady Arwen declare you to be named now and forever Paladin for your valor and your unending steadfastness to your friend. This name serves as a reminder to all that you value life more than most, have courage greater than many, and have earned the highest honor this mere lady can bestow on you. You, Paladin, are a dragon of honor." (I was SO glad I had read that book) I swear there were droplets of liquid in Paladin's eyes, but that is all I will say on the matter. He has used it as his name ever since.

Not long after, perhaps a pair of weeks later we met Aragorn and his friend Parseltongue. They were not much older than me but oh! so much bolder and of course they were as mountains and myself the anthill with Paladin the in-between.. But still, how close we became, we inseperable friends, well, once Aragorn and Paladin stopped their manly posturing and trying to out-do one another. There is still a bit of competition there, but they usually behave. Usually. My past wast lost and Aragorn turned his back on his, having some sort of falling out with his kin and leaving his home. Parseltongue, of course, had set out on the grand adventure of finding his charge and destiny.  On learning that I had bestowed Paladin's name on him, Aragorn and Parseltongue both insisted I do them both the same honor. I was flabbergasted, Why on Sornieth, I asked, would they want to change their true names? Aragorn, then Fleetfoot, wanted to break all ties with his family. Paladin nodded his head solemnly in understanding at this, and Parseltongue, who was then named Cletus, well- you can imagine why he wanted a new name. When their vehemence convinced me that they were quite serious I had named them in 2 minutes, falling back on two of my favorite books, (did I mention that I LOVE to read?) for their names.  On reflecting that it took me 2 weeks to choose a name for him, and that I chose the others' names in two minutes a look of deep affection came over Paladin. When, after the renaming,  I laughingly said we should start own clan-that was it. I had always been devout in my studies and relationship with the Gladekeeper, a fact I had never hidden. Paladin, Aragorn,  and Parseltongue encouraged me to continue my studies as a Priestess, while they would train to provide for our safety. This naturally became the charge that would be the focus os Parseltongue's life for eternity. From the beginning we always said our clan would be open for any dragon willing to pull their weight and become part of our family, they would be free to join and leave at will, unlike some of the older lairs, where members were treated like property. Our insistence on the individuals rights and treating all the members as beloved and special family members led to our clan's designation as The Clan of the Great Family.  Apparently this ideology resonated with others, as we frequently have to expand the perimeters of our lair as it continues to grow with new members joining and new families expanding inside the great family.

It must be that Paladin's inner demons from his early childhood still linger and haunt him, as he still treats me as the "Lady" Arwen and not an equal, and at this moment I am quite perturbed with him for this ongoing behavior as I have expressed to him the blatant stupidity of this backwards thinking on numerous occasions and he acts as though I am a silly young girl who does not know her own mind. He infuriates me with this condescending "Paladin knows best" behavior because I know that he cares for me. I hate this trivializing of my self awareness of my own feelings. I've known that I love Paladin for years and told him so but he plays it off as a joke or a feeling of gratitude gone too far. I'm not a hatchling. I am a fully mature dragon, I've had short relationships with other dragons to begat acolytes for the Gladekeeper, and possibly to get a reaction from Paladin but he just makes it a point to avoid me for a time and then never mentions it again. The male is absolutely maddening. But I have time, and patience, and a lifetime of love saved up for him, should he ever open his eyes. Any of the four of them. ********************************************************************************************************************* The dearest dream of my heart has been realized. These last few months have flown as with wings. My love Paladin has declared that he returns my feelings and we have begun our life together. If that were not enough to praise the Glademother for we are to start a family.  Oh, and to see the love and pride shining from my Paladin's once sorrowful gaze. I will never know a greater joy until I walk with the Glademother.