#but this is honestly how i first lost the bulk of my weight when i was fat so here we go again i fuckin guess

[boneseeking]

my self control has been slipping so badly lately i'm gonna have to start p-urg1ng again

i don't want to, but i know myself. it's what's going to happen.

[brucespringsteen]

Hi, do you have any beginner tips for lifting/getting into the gym? I no longer want to be a scrawny waifish butch and instead wanna be able to pick up my gf and look like mid 80s Bruce… If you’re comfortable talking about it I’d love to hear if you have any tips… I’ve been researching and have learned that diet is a huge part in building muscle but as far as the gym goes I’m lost… I’m honestly mostly just nervous because I have no clue where to start and don’t want some dude to help me (nothing wrong honest help I’m just shy and get embarrassed)… Thank you!!!

hi king 🤝🏻

im so happy 2 talk about this cos im in my musclebound era again

disclaimer what i know is a mix of what i learned from my dad and reddit threads LOL and my own trial and error. weightlifting really is the gayass journey of all time 💪🏼😋

first gonna keep it real with u ive lost a lot of muscle mass from stupid life events n being sad lol but im actually getting back into a routine for the first time in over a year. so i haven't properly lifted anything heavier than the 15lbs dumbells i got at home 😂 when i was once able to press more than my weight ✊🏼😔 BUT form is so much more important than lifting heavy. u will get better results lifting at a weight that you can control and build up lifting heavier over time 👍🏼 which i can go more in depth about how to do that. good form is so sexy and makes u feel and look so badass

u might find more eloquent lifters out there who talk about the mind and muscle connection and visualization. it's really cool stuff that connects practicing mindfulness as u workout which is what makes weightlifting so meditative to me. this will also help u maintain good form and i think nourishes a healthy mindset toward working out/yourself in general

n you are definitely right about diet playing a huge part. don't worry about bulking/cutting when ur first starting out, most important thing is making sure you're getting enough protein. if u are iron deficient i would look into taking a supplement! dont know all the science but iron keeps ur oxygen flowing better, so your stamina can be down if ur iron count is low. my mindset about diet is the simpler the better and u should never be miserable lol. i will never give up beer & pizza & a good time 🫡

second most important thing is sleep. make sure u get enough.

1. back/shoulders and biceps

going to the gym can be a little scary, but that's where having a routine helps so much 🧑‍💻doing one of those dynamic workout routines u find on an instagram reel every now and then can be fun and i recommend it. BUT doing a random workout Everytime u workout will make it difficult to see results. doing the same workouts is how u can see ur progression better and focus on good form. im talking about learning the basics of benching, squatting, and deadlifting. 😜✌🏼

if u can, i would aim a routine of 3-4 times a week. I kept it like this:

2. leg day and abs

3. chest and triceps

what helped in staying consistent w going to the gym was having a set time where i would go. ritualistic

4th extra day: fun cardio like interval training or boxing. OR if i was feeling like i just needed a chill day a slow incline walk on treadmill/outside😊 then do some really intense stretching/foam rolling

here is an example of a chest/tris day

The 3 "T's" stand for tiers starting with the most difficult exercises, so I could use most of the energy I have on it.

To elaborate further on how to see progress: say this week you're able to bench press 60lbs. Next week you try 70lbs on your last rep and it's kinda hard. The third week, you bench 60lbs again, and it feels a little easier now. The fourth week, you're benching 70lbs on your last two sets. By the fifth week, you find you're able to do your entire workout with 70! Etc repeat etc

when i first started i kept one of those tiny composition books w different workouts and id also keep track of how much i was lifting when i reached a new pr/mile time/etc. u can also just keep this in ur notes app. but i found having the paper in front of me was more efficient than continuously looking at my phone and fighting the urge to check apps in between sets lol. also if i was getting texts id have No Idea which just helped me reinforce the gym was Me Time

before u buy into a gym membership tho, take advantage if they have a free trial. u can find what time is least busy/if the vibe fits for u.

another tip. put a photo 1985 bruce on ur wall trust me this will help.

I can go more indepth about specific workouts or if u got other questions, lmk!

U got this!

[galahadwilder]

Future Perfect

This is my @mlsecretsanta fic for @crispypata! Crispy asked for DJWifi and Bunnyx, so I delivered.

*

It’s been a long week, and Alya is grateful for some alone time. While it’s always nice to have the others around, there’s an unstated pleasure in being the only one of her friends awake this early. Nino and Marinette are always asleep until very shortly before class, and Adrien may be awake, but his driver won’t be here for at least another twenty minutes. That’s a precious twenty minutes away from her sisters, away from anybody else. A precious twenty minutes of quiet.

Normally she’d spend this time updating the Ladyblog, moderating comments, writing posts, but after last night’s battle she just… she needs some time. Time to herself.

She’s shaking, just a little. She’s not even touching her phone. For the first time in a while, she’s actually reading a physical comic book—specifically, The Mighty Majestia Issue #48. Her first comic. A gift from her father when she was a little girl. It used to make her feel better when things were going bad. She needs that, a little bit, today. The feel of the paper under her fingertips.

It wasn’t her first near-death experience—she’s had a lot of those since Hawkmoth appeared in Paris. But Ladybug almost hadn’t made it last night. Alya had gone running after the Akuma, like usual, and…

A body flops down next to her on the bench. The warmth and weight of it—she glances to the side, and meets the familiar warm eyes of Nino.

“You okay?” he asks, laying his hand on top of the comic. “You haven’t read this since before we met.”

Alya nods. “Last night was bad,” she says.

Nino nods. “Yeah,” he responds. “Yeah it was.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

Alya is rarely the most perceptive person—more passionate than perceptive, honestly, though not for lack of trying (she tries really hard, it’s just… hard to tell what other people aren’t saying sometimes)—but she cares, and Nino is at school forty minutes before he’s usually awake and he seems unusually tense. She closes her comic. “Babe?”

Nino sighs, looking down as he picks at a hangnail on his thumb. “I can’t keep watching you die, Als.”

Alya’s heart judders. “You’re not okay, then.”

He shakes his head. “I mean Rena Rouge is one thing. I know you can protect yourself, and Ladybug is right there if things go bad. But every time I see you chase after a giant baby with no protection but that sexy plaid shirt...”

“I have a responsibility, Nino!” she says.

“I know,” Nino says quietly. “I can’t really ask you to stop, either.”

Alya swallows. “Are you... breaking up with me?”

Nino looks at her for a moment, then snorts. “Hell no.” He reaches up to Alya’s cheek, brushing her hair away from her ear. “You ain’t getting away from me that easy, girl.”

Alya relaxes, leaning into his palm. “Attaboy,” she says.

Nino grimaces. “I might… need a day or two to process, though.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

Alya’s heart falls. “You’re sure.” It’s not a question—Nino doesn’t make decisions half-cocked the way she does. He thinks, and considers, and once his choice is made, he sticks to it. That surety—that stability—is one of the reasons she loves him. Even if right now it’s hurting her.

“I’m sure,” he says. ���Just… I need a few days after. You know.” He hangs his head. “Seeing you die again.”

Oh, God, Alya wants to slap him. And maybe a year ago she would have. But today-Alya is not last-year-Alya, and, instead, she just drops her head a little. “It was a bad one, wasn’t it,” she says.

*

Alya trudges out of class, dragging her feet. It’s been a difficult day, to say the least, and Marinette—bless her—may be trying to help, but there’s not all that much to do.

“We could go to my place and stuff ourselves with Beignets,” Marinette offers, with her characteristic hyperenergetic movement. “I know you love the Majestia movie?”

Alya shakes her head. “I relax a bit better when I move,” she says. She looks at the basketball hoops. “Can you stick around for…” She catches a hint of green out of the corner of her eye—a familiar shade, one that she’s seen quite a lot. She blinks. “For a few…” She turns her head, and there—staring down at her from the roof of the school—is Carapace. “Uh.”

Marinette follows her gaze. “What are you—”

Carapace’s head jerks as he seems to realize that he’s been spotted, and he leaps down out of sight.

“What is he doing?” Alya murmurs.

Marinette’s iron fingers wrap around her bicep. “Alya,” she hisses, “that’s not Carapace.”

“What do you mean?” Alya says, turning her head, just in time to catch a glimpse of Nino—as Nino, not as Carapace—walking out of the locker room on the opposite side of the school from where Carapace disappeared. It’s too soon, too fast—there’s no way he could’ve come around the school that quickly.

“Excuse me,” she says, bolting towards her boyfriend. She grabs his arm and yanks him away from Adrien.

“Babe... what?” he says, looking at her like she just grew a second head.

“I just saw Carapace on the roof,” she hisses.

His eyes widen behind his glasses.

*

They didn’t really discuss it, at least not verbally, but they both pretty easily came to the decision that whoever this is, stealing their identities is not something this person gets to get away with. They don’t even talk it through before they’ve agreed to chase this imposter down.

“You’re sure he went this way?” Nino asks as they charge off down the street toward where Alya had last seen the false Carapace.

“Yes, I’m—!” Alya starts to snap, before she catches herself and—stopping her headlong charge by pressing a palm into a nearby wall—breathes in. “Sorry, sorry.” She glances at him. “Pretty sure, yeah.”

“God, I wish I had my shield,” Nino mutters. He grabs her hand and meets her eyes with his characteristic Nino Soft Look. “If this ends up being a bad one, please take cover?”

Alya grimaces. “The Akuma is using your face, Babe,” she says.

“Please.” His voice is calm and soft.

Alya thinks about how distraught he was this morning, how little she wants to do that to him again. “I’ll—I’ll try.”

Nino smiles. “That’s really all I can ask, isn’t it.”

Alya smiles, tugging him along. “You knew I was crazy when I asked you out,” she says, building carefully building back up to a run.

Nino snorts, vaulting over a street barrier. “That I did.”

*

It takes barely a minute before they reach the spot where the false Carapace must’ve gone, leaving them looking down wide avenues packed with people—none of whom are wearing a green hood.

“We lost him,” Nino says, puffing.

“I mean,” Alya gasps, “duh.” She leans onto her knees. “He’s got—powers, and we—we have, what—about eight—months of parkour training?”

A familiar whizz-crack comes from above, as a spotted red figure drops down in front of them. “Alya!” Ladybug says, glancing confusedly at Nino. “Did you see where Carapace went?”

“Nope,” Alya says. She leans in toward Ladybug, carefully eyeing the other people who are watching the exchange. “Definitely an Akuma, then?” she whispers, quietly enough that nobody else is alarmed.

“Maybe?” Ladybug whispers back. “Or a Sentimonster, or. Well. One other thing.”

Alya’s eyebrows narrow. “What other thing?”

Ladybug shakes her head. “Probably not important,” she says. She straightens and backs away, whipping her yo-yo in rapid circles. “Everyone stay calm and quietly evacuate the area,” she says in a clear, authoritative voice. “Calmly, please! Everything is under control.”

There’s a growing undercurrent of panic in the crowd at Ladybug’s words, but there’s a force behind her last sentence, a reassurance, that passes calm through the crowd like a ripple. Much to Alya’s surprise, there’s no stampede, no rush to flee. Everyone actually listens, beginning to carefully file away, emptying out the street.

“Any chance we could get our Miraculi?” Nino asks. “I don’t like this.”

Ladybug glances over her shoulder at him. “Not until Chat gets here,” she says. “I can’t just leave the Akuma without anyone containing it.”

A black blur drops out of the sky, rolling and springing to his feet next to Ladybug. “Good thing I’m here, then!” Chat says, leaning his elbow onto her shoulder.

Ladybug rolls her eyes. “Always so dramatic,” she says, turning to her partner. “Can you hold down the fort for a few while I grab backup?”

Chat eyes Alya and Nino. “So long as the Ladyblogger doesn’t get herself killed, yes.”

*

There’s still been no sighting of the fake Carapace by the time Ladybug returns carrying the bracelet and the necklace. Chat has been running across the rooftops, spying into alleyways, but hasn’t seen scale nor shell of him.

“Alya Césaire and Nino Lahiffe,” Ladybug intones, holding the two Miraculi aloft. “I’m trusting you with the Miraculous of the Fox and Turtle.” She purses her lip. “I’m going to ask you to switch, though. I don’t want us mixing up our Carapi.”

Alya grimaces, but Nino just nods. “Makes sense,” he says, taking the necklace and draping it around his neck. It sparks, and a tiny fox spirals out from it. “Trixx, Let’s Pounce!” Nino calls.

He flashes orange, sparks running across his whole body, and suddenly Nino is gone, replaced by an orange-clad superhero. He still has Carapace’s hood, peaked down over his forehead, with ears poking through holes in the top. Leggings are tucked into combat boots, black gloves cuffed over white-and-orange sleeves. He looks down at his arms, twisting his hands to look at both sides. “Hmm,” he says. “Pretty cool.”

“What should we call you?” Ladybug says.

Nino meets Alya’s eyes. “What about… Reynard?” he says.

“Reynard it is,” Ladybug says. She turns to Alya, handing her the jade bracelet. “You ready?”

“Always,” Alya says, sliding the bracelet onto her wrist. “Wayzz, Shell On!”

She feels her hair lift into a high ponytail as her glasses meld to her face into a domino mask. Unlike the Rena Rouge transformation, which slims her down, she feels herself bulking up. Armor plates slam into place around her chest, shoulders, and thighs. Everything feels heavier, but also stronger, more stable.

Reynard whistles. “Damn, babe,” he says. “Green looks good on you.”

Tortue Verte grins. “You expected anything else?” she ask. She absently lifts the shield. “Damn, this thing is heavy,” she says, looking at Reynard. “How do you even lift it?”

“Practice,” Reynard says, twirling the flute. “This is really light!”

“It’s basically bamboo,” Tortue replies, slinging the shield onto her back. “You ready?”

Reynard sheathes the flute on his own back. “Let’s take this guy down.”

*

Tortue Verte’s super jump is a lot like Rena Rouge’s—though, given the balance between her being slightly stronger with the Turtle and also being heavier, it’s a little weird to balance. She gets more distance but less height with each jump, and since her brain keeps expecting Rena’s jump arc, she keeps misjudging where she’s landing.

She lands hard on the side of her foot, twisting her ankle and stumbling shoulder-first into a chimney with a yelp. Her ankle is struck by stabbing pain, and she immediately collapses onto her side. She lies there on the roof, huffing, feeling desperate and foolish. This is not what she was hoping for.

She carefully drags herself up the chimney into a sitting position, carefully pulling the shield from her back and dialing Reynard.

“Hey babe,” he says, his orange-hooded face filling the screen. “You good?”

She shakes her head. “Landed bad,” she says. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

Reynard’s eyes widen behind his goggles. “Where are you?” he says. “I’ll be there in a—”

“Babe!” she interrupts. “Akuma. I’ll be fine up here.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “I’m sure,” she says. “Give that fake hell.” She hangs up, then collapses backward against the chimney with a gasp.

“Sorry I didn’t catch you,” a voice—a familiar one, but one she can’t quite place—says from behind her. “I think you’d have broken a few of my bones.”

She whips her head around to see a red-haired woman dressed in blue and white, bunny ears sprouting from her head, leaning on an umbrella as if it were a cane. Tortue tries to leap to her feet, shield up, but pain spikes through her ankle the second her foot meets shingle. “Augh!”

The woman immediately drops the umbrella, and her arms are around Tortue’s body. “Careful,” she says. “Don’t want to put too much weight on that.”

“Don’t touch me,” Tortue growls.

The woman laughs. “Relax, Foxy. I’m not an Akuma.”

Tortue blinks. Foxy? She’s wearing the Turtle, not the Fox, which means… “You—you know who I am.”

The woman smirks and throws up a peace sign. “The name’s Bunnyx,” she says. “Wielder of the Miraculous of Time, from ten years in the future.”

“Prove it,” Tortue says. “What’s Ladybug’s real name?”

Bunnyx snorts. “You’re not getting it that easily… Alya,” she says. “Also, Nino’s sort of downplaying how worried about you he is. You really should start being more careful before you give him a heart attack.”

Tortue stares at Bunnyx, then blinks. “...Okay, you’re for real,” she says. “What are you doing here? Are you warning us about something?”

Bunnyx shakes her head. “I brought Carapace and Rena back from my time for one reason,” she says. “Future Hawkmoth has discovered Ladybug’s identity, which has put her daughter in danger.”

“Daughter?” Tortue says.

Bunnyx continues as if she hasn’t heard. “Ladybug asked me to bring her back in time to protect her from Future Hawkmoth, but I needed backup just in case she followed us. You and your boyfriend were the obvious choice.”

“Where is she?” Tortue says, trying to work her way to her feet. She hisses as pain lances through her ankle again.

“Jeez, stay down, Tortue!” Bunnyx says, carefully easing her back into a sitting position. “You need to be careful. We need you for this one.”

“Don’t bother,” says a voice that sounds like Tortue’s own as an older, taller Rena Rouge lands in a crouch. “I had absolutely no self-preservation at that age.”

Carapace lands next to her, softer, gentler. “You nearly killed me like eight times,” he says, cradling a baby in his arms. He looks down at Tortue. “Hey, babe.”

Rena rolls her eyes, gently punching Carapace’s shoulder. “Don’t flirt with young me, you butt,” she says.

Tortue stares at the baby, wide-eyed. “Is that…” she murmurs.

Rena nods. “Our god-daughter,” she says.

Carapace smiles. “Do you want to hold her?”

*

“She’s… mine?” Ladybug says, gazing down into her daughter’s emerald-green eyes.

The baby laughs, reaching up toward her mother’s face and pressing her chubby palm into Ladybug’s cheek.

“Who’s the father?” Chat says to Bunnyx, hope shining in his eyes. (Tortue admits to herself that she’s just as interested in finding out.)

Bunnyx smirks. “Oh, Kitty Noir, you know I can’t tell you.”

Chat looks crestfallen. “Not even a hint?”

“She’s so small,” Ladybug whispers, pointing a finger at her daughter’s face. The baby laughs again, gripping her mother’s finger in between her hands.

“You said she’s my—our god-daughter?” Tortue says.

Rena laughs. “My boyfriend has spent more time pampering this little terror than he has me lately,” she says. She turns and pokes Reynard in the chest. “You’ve got some growing to do, babe.”

Carapace rolls his eyes. “Please don’t flirt with the babies, babe,” he says with a smirk.

The laughter that follows seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, and Tortue looks around, unsettled.

“...Wasn’t that funny,” Carapace mutters.

Bunnyx walks toward the edge of the roof, looking down. “Missing the point again, Shelly?” she says, pointing down. “It’s starting.”

“What is?” Chat says.

“ATTENTION PARIS!” a booming, feminine voice echoes deeply through the sky as if it’s rebounding off the very atmosphere, followed by a sudden eruption of Wagnerian opera. “YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO JOIN THE RANKS OF ODIN’S MIGHTY WARRIORS IN VALHALLA!”

“Ah,” Chat says, nodding. “Akuma time.”

“Bad one,” Bunnyx agrees, nodding. “We picked today for a reason. Two illusionists needed at minimum.”

Tortue gingerly attempts to stand, only for the pain in her ankle to spike like a jagged piece of bone. “Ah!” she yelps, collapsing backward.

Immediately, two sets of hands are holding her up—Reynard’s and Carapace’s. “You okay?” Reynard says, his eyes soft and concerned.

Carapace swallows. “I’m sorry, babe, but I—” He glances at Rena. “We are going to need you to stay out of this fight. You’re injured.”

“I can help!” Tortue protests.

Carapace shakes his head. “I know how much it means to you to be out there with us, but A—um, sweetie, I need you alive, okay?” He smiles, glancing back at Ladybug. “Besides, um. Someone needs to keep the baby safe.”

Reynard raises an eyebrow. “You are a braver man than I,” he says.

Rena laughs. “Oh, it’s just ‘cause she’s a baby,” she says. “He knows I’d rip his throat out if he tried that.”

“You are also much less suicidally reckless than she is,” Carapace shoots back.

Rena shrugs. “Fair point.”

Ladybug approaches, carefully laying the baby into Tortue’s arms with a look of regret. “Stay safe, okay?” she says. She looks down and presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “And keep her safe.”

Tortue swallows, overwhelmed by the—the everything. The trust Ladybug is showing her, the softness of the moment, the sadness in the child’s eyes as her mother goes back off to battle… it’s too much.

“I’ll do my best,” she croaks, trying not to tear up.

*

Carapace had carried her away from the battle. Vilekyrie controlled the sky, making it difficult to keep the baby out of her reach, but he’d found her a little out-of-the-way cubbyhole that nobody would come looking in during the attack. Or, well. Not a cubbyhole, really. More of a luxury suite at the Hotel Gran Paris.

“How did you know nobody would be here?” Tortue had asked him.

He’d only smiled in reply. “Spoilers,” he’d said. “Love you forever, but I gotta get back there.”

“Good luck!”

Now, about forty minutes into the battle, she can hear the clash of swords, the clanking of armor, the screaming of horses as they flew past her shaded window. She’d looked outside earlier, caught a glimpse of the copies of Vilekyrie flashing across the sky—copies of her that kept growing by the moment—and the marching of ghostly Viking soldiers on the ground: the Einherjar she’d selected from Paris’ citizens, transformed into undying warrior spirits. It doesn’t seem to be going well, but then, she doesn’t really have the best vantage point.

The baby is fussy, fussier than she was when Ladybug was around—Tortue can only guess that it’s because she wants her mother. The room has been stocked with formula and fresh diapers, and, thanks to her experience with the twins, Tortue has plenty of experience with taking care of a baby, but the girl just won’t settle down.

There’s a quiet footfall on the balcony—not a Vilekyrie, and the Einherjar can’t seem to climb. Tortue turns around to see the balcony door creek open, followed by a pair of large orange ears. “Hey. Mini-me,” Rena says. “You hanging in there?”

Tortue smiles, rocking the baby gently in her arms. “You didn’t tell me her name,” she says. “Feel weird just calling her ‘baby’.”

Rena ducks around the door, shutting it behind her, then bends down, cooing over the child’s delighted face. “HellooOOOooo!” She tickles the baby’s nose with her finger, and the girl laughs.

Rena looks back up at Tortue with a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she says. “No names. Spoilers.”

Tortue rolls her eyes. “Am I always this aggravating?”

Rena gently wraps her arms underneath the baby’s back, lifting her from Tortue’s arms. “Pretty much!” She turns back to the baby and blows a raspberry.

“What’s up?” Tortue says. “Why aren’t you with the others?” As if to punctuate her point, an explosion sounds in the distance, and Tortue raises an eyebrow.

“Needed to talk to you,” Rena says, sitting down on the plush velvet bedspread across from her. “Also, I told them you were planning on running into the combat zone, so…”

“I was not!” Tortue yelps, leaping from her desk chair. The baby immediately squeals in distress.

Rena grins. “I know,” she says, gently tickling the child’s nose. “But they believed me when I said it, and by the time they figure it out…”

Tortue sighs. Gods, her older self is annoying. “What do you want, Alya?”

The animation in Rena’s face slackens, and she looks down at her own stomach. “I… want to show you something.” Keeping one hand under the baby, she reaches behind her and unslings the flute, opening the space within. “Take a look.”

Tortue reaches inside the extradimensional storage space inside Rena’s weapon, confused—and then her fingers close around something small, round, and metal, and she understands. “You’re going to propose,” she says, fishing the ring out of the flute. She stares at it, entranced.

“Yep,” Rena agrees with a nod, gently bouncing the baby. “Bought the ring last week.”

Tortue doesn’t even know what to say in this situation. Is it… weird to congratulate herself? Some situations, there aren’t just good responses for.

Rena sees her face and laughs. “Don’t look so shocked, Mini-me,” she says. She carefully rocks Ladybug’s baby, staring into her green eyes. “I mean, you always knew we were gonna do this eventually.”

“Yeah, but… kinda young?” Tortue says, handing the ring back to Rena.

“Ladybug’s younger.” Rena absently places the ring back inside her flute, still bouncing the baby in her other arm. “About a year younger than you, actually.”

Tortue blinks. She’s—well, she figured out a while back that Ladybug wasn’t actually 5,000 years old, but she’d always assumed she was, maybe, Anansi’s age? The thought that Ladybug is younger than she is... “Yikes.”

“Yikes is right,” Rena says. “And she has anxiety. So every time you go running face-first into danger like you’re never gonna die…”

“Is this a lecture?” Tortue says.

“Little bit,” Rena responds.

Oh, great. The last thing she needs right now is a lecture from herself of all people.

Rena rolls her eyes. “Listen, Kit, sometimes—sometimes Ladybug isn’t gonna be there. She doesn’t always show up, you know.”

Tortue narrows her eyebrows. “Yes she does?” That’s, like, the big consistency. Aside from that one time where the Akuma and the Sentimonster were in different cities, Ladybug has shown up for every single Akuma battle.

Rena shakes her head. “She has a life, Alya. And, well, sometimes she needs Chat to cover for her.” She looks toward the curtained window, toward the sounds of the battle still filtering in from outside. “And sometimes, Chat and Viperion get taken out early, and the only person who can use the Ladybug is you.”

A chill runs down Tortue’s entire body. The responsibility of using the Ladybug Miraculous—it’s terrifying. It hadn’t even occurred to her that it might pass down to her, that—oh, no. This is… this is what Ladybug feels all the time, isn’t it?

“Listen, however you feel about Nino now?” Rena says. “It’s nothing compared to what it’s going to be. He and I, we’d do anything for each other.” She breathes in, stroking the baby’s head. “Which means that, well, you and I need to stay alive.”

“The Miraculous Cure—”

Rena shakes her head. “It’s good, but it’s not… 100% reliable. Sometimes, Ladybug can’t be there.”

Tortue’s mouth opens, closes. Opens again. “Oh.”

Rena stands and places a hand on her younger self’s shoulder. “Alya, someday, you’re gonna get hurt. You’re gonna get hurt in a way that Ladybug can’t fix, and you’re going to wonder if you even deserve this Miraculous. If you even deserve Nino.” She looks down at the baby with naked fondness in her eyes. “I’m telling you now—you deserve way more than you realize. But if you want to make it to see our wedding...” She trails off.

Tortue waits for her to finish, but Rena doesn’t say anything else. The implications in Rena’s words are disconcerting, and Tortue asks the question that’s burning inside her chest. “Am I going to die?”

“Of course you are,” Rena replies. “You’re going to die a lot. But some of them are going to be harder to come back from, and Alya.” Rena’s eyes bore into hers. “You need to come back. Okay?”

“Okay,” Tortue whispers.

“Miraculous LADYBUG!” Ladybug calls from outside, and pink insects swarm across the room. There’s a brief moment of pain as Tortue’s ankle snaps back into place, immediately replaced by cool relief as the pressure vanishes.

Rena puts a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell Reynard, okay?” she says. “About the ring.”

Tortue mimes zipping her lip.

Rena nods. “Thanks,” she says. “Oh, and one more thing—you’re also gonna need to be more careful if you want to get into a good journalism school. Nobody wants to be the professor that killed the Ladyblogger.”

Tortue blinks. She… hadn’t even thought of that. “That makes sense, I think?” she says.

The balcony door creaks open and Carapace peeks through. “Hey, guys,” he says. “How’s everything going in here?”

“Really great!” Tortue says. She eyes her older self. Rena is fidgeting, looking away from her boyfriend’s face, and Tortue realizes—if she doesn’t make the push, Rena isn’t going to do it. “I think Rena has something to tell you.”

Rena glares at Tortue. “Betrayal!” she hisses.

Tortue laughs. “You’ll thank me later.”

Carapace glanced between them, confusion written across his face. “Um, what’s going on?”

Rena takes a deep breath, then carefully hands the baby to Tortue. “Hold her for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Rena looks at her boyfriend, then drops to one knee, fishing the ring out of her flute. “Nino Lahiffe. Will—will you, um…”

Carapace gasps and covers his mouth with both hands, his eyes shining wetly. “Alya?” he whispers.

Both of them sit in shocked silence, staring at each other, frozen, and after a moment, Tortue gets fed up. “Babe,” she says. “Say yes.”

Carapace glances at her, then back and his girlfriend... then lifts his fiancée bodily into the air in a crushing, spinning hug.

“Yes, yes, yes!” he crows in delight.

*

The portal closes, leaving just the four of them behind.

Ladybug huffs in relief. “You know, I love Bunnyx, but… every time I see her, it’s a brand new disaster.”

Chat looks at her in confusion. “Every? Isn’t this only the second time?”

Reynard sidles up to Tortue Verte. “So, how was meeting your future self?” he says, as Ladybug and Chat quietly discuss something else off to the side. “Mine was a lot more confident than I expected.”

Tortue snorts. “Kind of a butt,” she says. “But then again, that’s not much of a surprise, is it.”

Reynard coughs. “I invoke my right to not incriminate myself,” he says.

Tortue smacks his shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

Reynard smiles. “Your dork.” He looks at where the portal vanished. “For quite a while, apparently.” He turns back to Tortue. “She tell you anything interesting?”

Tortue smiles, thinking about the proposal, about how happy she and her Nino were. About all the advice her future self gave. She has a lot of work to do.

“Sorry, babe,” she says. “Spoilers.”

[scribeofmorpheus]

Himmeløyne [28/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT WARNING (but like, tasteful smut)

A/N: Finally, an update! Sorry for the wait guys, truly, I honestly thought I would have finished this series before the Loki series premiered but I've been struggling with some personal, life-gives-you-lemons shit, and I was burned out--Bad! Anyway, hope you enjoy this little chapter.  ♥

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please

~Y/N

The great hall was filled with boisterous laughter—not prideful, but proud all the same, enamoured with the world in the moment. Clutter of wine goblets after every toast was like music. Fandral had occasionally burst out in song between each meal served, acting like the bard he was. Thor listened intently as Volstagg recounted the last couple of days while Hogun nursed his drink in silence, content.

“I think your dear prince is in need of saving,” Sif leaned closer to you, nudging her chin towards a far corner of the room. You blushed when she called him yours.

Loki was getting an earful from Heimdall. His ears were the faintest bit red—flustered, or perhaps embarrassed—yet, if one didn’t know what tells to look for, his discomfort would be impossible to deduce from simple conversation.

You watched the two of them converse in hushed tones. Loki caught your glance and gave a wink as reassurance.  

“Oh, I think he can handle himself,” you said to Sif. Then you saw Loki rub the back of his neck, an awkward laugh leaving his lips. Whatever Loki said had given Heimdall reason for pause. They both stood there, quiet, unsure of what to say, shifting from one leg to the other. “Or not.”

“They look like they’re being tortured, poor sods.” Sif took a sip of her wine, smiling into the brim. “Go. Save them. Again.”

You excused yourself from the table and walked over to the two men. You carried an extra wine goblet as a peace offering.

“Enjoying the festivities?” you handed Heimdall the goblet. Thankful, he swirled the wine around so he’d have something to do.  

“Immensely,” Loki said a little too enthusiastically. His toothy smile was forced, out of place. The awkward silence set in again.

“Oh, since the two of you are getting along so well, I’ll head back to the table. Volstagg is on his second boar, and Sif and I placed a bet to see if he’d finish it whole. My money is on half. Sif bet on a third.” You took a step back and both men protested. You had to resist the urge to laugh. Two gods, both immensely power, were terrified of awkward silences.

Heimdall cleared his throat as if he were about to say something. Loki reached for your elbow. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling too wide. His look was pleading, desperate and you found it adorable. You nodded discretely, shooting him a wink of your own. Loki let out a sigh of relief in secret, keeping one step behind you, as if you were his shield. It was subtle, but every time there was a sudden noise, he’d flinch. You reached for his hand. His hand warmed to your touch, so did his disposition

The room was lively, a stark contrast to how tense and unwelcoming the palace had been a few hours ago.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you said, toying with your wine close to your lips. “A day ago, this would have all seemed impossible.”

“A day ago I was being hunted by a figment of my mind. Strange is putting it mildly.” Loki’s hand squeezed yours as if he was trying to see if you were real. If everything around him was real. He emptied his goblet in a single swig. “Refill?” Loki took your goblet despite it being half-full and made his way towards the wine casks stacked against the wall.

“Get old enough, and little surprises you anymore,” Heimdall said, eyeing yours and Loki’s handfasting tattoos. “That, however, did. Is it what you wanted?”

 You searched your father’s face. There was concern present in his eyes, but his voice was soft. You looked down at your hand and then at Loki, and couldn’t help but smile. A fluttering filled your stomach. It had been a while since you’d been hopeful.

“It didn’t happen how I imagined it would, but, yes, this is what I want.”

Heimdall nodded, “That’s all I needed to know.”

“Really? That’s it?”

He smiled, “We’ve spent most of our time together fighting. Fighting the past, a king, magic. The last thing I want to do is be at odds with you. And, despite my reservations, if Loki makes you happy then I won’t stand in your way.”

“From where I was sitting, it looked like he needed some rescuing. What did you say to him?”  You watched Loki make his way back.

“Oh, that’s one secret I’m going to keep to myself.” With a smile, Heimdall kissed your forehead, ready to retire for the night. “Though, I can’t say that making him squirm didn’t amuse me. Now, I think it’s time I turn in for the night.”

“Goodnight, Father,” you said.

 He froze, momentarily, getting used to his new role, to the familiarity you were both beginning to find in your new relationship. Then, warmly, he said his goodbyes. His large frame disappeared into the bulk of the crowd and out the large doors.

Loki, more comfortable now that it was just the two of you, placed his hand on the small of your bank. His thumb brushed against the silky material there, his cheeks flush from the wine.

“Still in one piece?” you teased as he handed you your wine goblet.

“Barely,” Loki sighed in relief, shoulders slumping.

You set your goblet on a nearby table so you could run your fingers through his hair. “What did he say?”

He took you in his arms, fingers laced around the small of our back. “What any father would. That I should do my best to make you happy. And if I don’t, he’ll make sure I regret it. And I was very much inclined to believe him.”

Loki searched the room for someone, his eyes serious with thought.

“What is it?” you asked, selfishly wanting all of his attention to be on you.

He practically mumbled his next words, “I don’t see Baldrick anywhere.”

“Ah,” you smirked. “Your mother mentioned something about bribing him with sweets in exchange for a smile. I think she took him to the kitchen.”

Loki’s brow furrowed, but his smirk let you know it wasn’t agitation, it was reverie, the pleasant kind.

You cupped his cheeks to draw his gaze back down towards you, “Is something the matter?”

“N—No, everything’s fine. It’s just…there’s something about him. It’s like…” he shook his head, wisps of hair tickling his jaw. “I don’t quite know how to describe it.”

But you did, “Like you know him from somewhere.”

Loki nodded, that inquisitive look returning slowly. “Yes. Almost.”

A loud rumble, followed by some deafening laughter broke through the hall’s music. Loki flinched again, this time it was harder for him to hide his reaction. You walked towards the large doors, pulling him in tow. He didn’t protest, and from the look on his face, you could tell he was happier away from loud noises.

When the two of you were alone, strolling the hallways, hand in hand, you continued: “We’ve all felt it. It’s like we’re connected. But I don’t know-how, and he won’t tell me.”

“How did you find him?”

“That is a very long, very complicated story.”

Loki looked at the winding hallways, admiring the large columns and amber lighting. “It’s a nice night for a walk. We can take the scenic route.”

As you and Loki walked at a leisurely pace, stopping now and again to take in the sights. And once you started talking, it became easier and easier to keep going. Loki was silent, but you didn’t need him to say anything, you just needed someone to listen. It felt good, like a weight was being lifted, brick by brick. Before you knew it, you were stopped by a door, deep in the palace. It was your bedroom door. The two of you stood there, lost for words, and you could swear the air turned hot and thick. Instantly, you thought of the night by the balcony where you’d shared your first kiss. Suddenly, you felt the urge to close the distance between the two of you. You opened your mouth to say something, but Loki cut you off, his focus drawn to your intertwined hands.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said.

“For what?” you took a step towards him.

“Everything,” he looked you in the eye, squeezing your hand. “For being you. For… for being by my side when I needed you.”

You leaned close, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. At the contact, you felt a sliver of something electric, full of desire and a calmer sensation, close to contentment. Your stomach knotted, and you felt that familiar pull of your magic reaching out for his, anticipating that flutter to fill your stomach. You lingered in the kiss, waiting for his magic to touch yours, but the wait wasn’t ending so you broke away first, half confused, half disappointed. “Well, get used to it. Because it looks like you’re stuck with me.” You raised your intertwined hands to show off your linked tattoos.

The corner of his mouth twitched, that bashful smirk of his threatened to return. He kissed your forehead before taking a step back. “You should go in, rest. It’s been quite the eventful day.”

You couldn’t shake the thought that he was pulling away from you. As he motioned to turn around, you reached for him and said, “Stay with me.”

He tensed, mouth opening with no words behind them.

“I don't want to be alone tonight,” you said. “And, I think, you don’t either.”

“No. I don’t,” he admitted.

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

“Shutting you out?” he said the words as if they were an absurdity, then he laughed. “I could never dream of shutting you out.”

“I can feel this…distance between us, and I—”

A fevered rush filled your belly, the sensation you’d been yearning for and instantly, in a grand, sweeping motion, Loki cradled your face and kissed you. You could feel what he was feeling, and you knew it went both ways. You moaned into the touch and his reaction was equally carnal. His body pressed yours against the door and you could practically taste his desire, his lust. It was sweet and bitter all at once. Powerful. Glorious.

Your body reciprocated to his touch, tangling itself against him, one leg hooked over his hip. He held you steady, pressing the hardness of himself deeper. His tongue tasted of wine and you savoured it. A deep, pleasant rumble left his chest as he angled his mouth so he could further explore your own. Soon you were sharing more than emotions and phantom sensation, you were sharing thoughts, memories, fantasies. First was the memory of your first kiss on the balcony. It was tangled together with fantasy, of you beneath green, velvet sheets, moaning Loki’s name as he entered you. Then your own dreams melded in, the one of the snake and the cave. The rushing images were so potent that you could have sworn the fantasy actually happened.

Loki’s next moan was practically primal. You whimpered when you felt him harden against your lifted thigh. Your body started to ache, desperately. Loki held your tattooed hand against the door, fingers straining from the tightened grip. When the kiss ended, you both backed away, your lungs were so starved of air that you had to place your hand on your chest just to make sure you were still breathing.

“Your eyes are glowing,” he shocked out between breaths.

You placed your palm on your belly and squeezed, stifling a moan as you shut your eyes for a moment. “That was…” you swallowed, dazed by everything that was happening inside your body. “It’s never been this powerful before. This vivid. I can still feel you, feel us.”

“I hope that answers your question then.” Loki cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t shutting you out, Y/N. I wanted to do this right. Everything between us has happened so fast, too fast. But we have time now. Time enough to take things slow, to do this right.”

“Time has done nothing but keep us apart,” you licked your lips, still able to taste him. You shook your head, determined to take the next step. “I don’t want to do this right. I just want you. Besides, you can’t plead modesty now that I’m your betrothed.”

Loki stilled, a spark of mischief to him as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Betrothed? Till today, I never knew how beautiful a word it is.”  

You opened your door and tugged at his sleeve, “Stay with me.”

Loki crossed the threshold, one hand undoing the buttons of his coat. He had given you his answer.

 ~Loki

He had wanted to do things right, not to rush headfirst into a storm of lust and longing. But as soon as his foot was through the door, as soon as he saw that her bed looked warm and inviting, he was a slave to his desire. He had wanted this for so long, even before he met her, he just never knew how to put his feeling to words. He wanted companionship, someone to make him feel like he belonged. And in the chaos of them having known each other, Y/N had given him the one thing he’d been too proud to ask for: a home.

Loki loomed over her, enthralled with the way her heavy-lidded witch eyes were near-closed in anticipation of another kiss. He obliged, eagerly. His fingers deftly worked her corset out of its laces.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he said, fingers brushing against the soft skin of her belly as her gown fell to the floor. He rushed to lift her off the ground and bury his lips at the crook of her neck.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered, locking her ankles around his back. Her own fingers worked on his shirt. Every brush of her fingers against his chest made him shudder, his mind growing blank. He indulged himself in the taste of her skin, loving the way her body felt soft and right in his grip, rubbed flush against him.

“And, I, yours,” he devoted himself to her, with so few words. And then he pressed her into the mattress, felt the firmness of it give in to the weight of them.

Her room was dark, and with a single thought, his magic ignited the candles scattered in the room. It was an instant blaze. White, hot. For a brief second, he thought he’d set them both on fire, but it wasn’t literal, it was the intensity of their passion. He was drowning in her, and her in him.

The candlelight washed over her, making her look ethereal, imagined. Too beautiful with her plump lips, witching eyes and unfurled hair as wild as the forest. He loved how perfect she looked. He loved her. And by all the nine realms, he’d make sure she knew that with each kiss, each whispered, sweet reverence.  

 Her head was filled with mist, hot, sticky and in a haze. He could feel her spinning under her eyelids. He could feel what he was doing to her nerves, setting them alight, flooding them with pleasure. It wasn’t enough, he wanted to give her more.

His thumb found the mound of her breast. With such simple contact, they grew hard and tight, just like his cock. She let out a soft cry, back arching so they could stay connected. He brought his mouth to her swelling breasts, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. She tangled her hands in his hair, and Loki imagined her doing so when he was buried between her thighs, tasting her, enjoying the power of her surrender.  

“Let go,” he said, feeling her fight the tension building insider her. Their magic was completely linked, overpowering, and he knew she was afraid of how all-consuming their bond had become. In truth, he was too. It was a brilliant mix of hedonism and devotion. “Lose yourself to me, like I have to you.”

He pressed her hands flat on the bed as he brought his lips back to hers. She trembled beneath him, not bothered to bite back every moan. Something glorious was brewing in her belly, he trailed a kiss from her lips to the scar on her chest to her navel, admiring how their magic chose specific places to bloom. For her, it was her belly. For him, his chest. Then, gloriously, she came undone, gasping as her eyes blurred over, pupils dilated and dark. He nearly followed after her, gripping the sheets to stay grounded, present. He took a moment to steel himself as she began to remember the world around her. Yet, a part of her was still shrouded, hidden from him. A dark spot in a sea of light. Despite that, Loki had more to give her, and he was glad she wasn’t done either.

He rolled off the bed and discarded the last of his clothes. Y/N reached up for him, eyes just shy of open as she called out to him. He stirred at the sound of his name from her lips, husky.

“Say it again,” he pleaded, spreading her legs wider as he kneeled between them.

“Loki,” she barely managed to finish before her breath hitched.

His tongue was at her core, inside her. He had to keep his left hand balled tightly to keep from touching himself, from alleviating how desperately his body wanted to be joined with her. She rocked against his tongue, fingers knotting in his hair just like he’d imagined earlier. He let out a deep noise that was barely man.

She gasped, head rolling back as she struggled to keep centred, “That feels—”

Loki knew how it felt, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to fight the pleasure of this rush if he brought it on. Slowly, regretfully, he got off his knees and laid over her again. With what strength she had left, he rolled him onto his back and he let her, finding a new shock of delight at her dominance.

The pressure was immense for him now, as she straddled him, slick and ready.

“Are you sure?” he asked with the last shred of his willpower.

She sucked on her lower lip in, responding by wrapping her fingers around his cock, gasping as she guided him into her. Loki’s mind flashed bright with lightning, and he almost rushed to his release a second time. When they were connected, completely, he let her set the pace, bracing her body by the hips, using his strength to keep her shaking legs steady. From there, everything became frenzied. They found a rhythm, and Loki smiled every time she cried out his name. He enjoyed their endlessness. They were both eager, excited to tumble off the cliff together, joined, as one.

“I love you,” he said faintly as he filled her.

Then everything went brilliant. His head whipped to the side, climax sparking in his peripheral like stars. She shuddered, bracing his shoulders like a lifeline. He watched her climax again, swearing to remember this moment forever. Always.

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

 Sometime in the night, Loki heard Y/N stir and get out of bed. He spread out over the bed, body seeking her heat. His body and mind were both spent, too spent to even open his eyes. Time moved both fast and slow, and, eventually, he sensed her return to him, curled under his arm, and he felt complete again.

To be continued...

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[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Munchlax Line

Height two feet, weight two hundred thirty one pounds. I don’t think density works that way.

DESIGN:

I don’t like Munchlax’s face. It’s furry boddy, bear-like feet, fluffy arms, and tall ears are all fine, but when compared to the rest of it not only is its face woefully underdesigned, but the straight line of separation between the two colors that goes all the way around its head makes it look like the top of its head should just pop off like a South Park Canadian. For the most part, it’s cute, and I love the tiny bear-like design, but I really wish the darker color went down behind its jawline.

Also, it has blank eyes. The vast majority of pokemon either have proper irises or some sort of solid eye with a shine to it. Munchlax just has little dots in the middle of white spaces, and while it’s not the only Pokemon with eyes like that, it stands out as a design issue.

Snorlax, on the other hand, is basically perfect. It’s a big, fat bear-like thing that’s just flopping around and doesn’t want any part of this. I do wish the basic design was a bit more textured with less distinct lines to make it clear that this is a furry creature, especially at its forehead, but overall it reads like a real animal that’s not an animal we actually know.  There’s a brief appearance of Snorlax in Detective Pikachu, and honestly it looks perfect there. Just by making it clear that it’s furry the Pokemon gets a huge layer of life… But I can’t really complain about that not being there in most games, as Pokemon has a very smooth graphical style and even fluffballs like Pikachu tend to look overly smooth.

Gigantamax Snorlax is one of my favorite Gigantamaxes, because while Snorlax itself doesn’t really change, its sedentary nature allows foliage to grow up and over it. This brings in a strong addition of color and new design space without feeling as though it’s rewriting the Pokemon’s design. It also just looks like a really nice place to spend an afternoon. Would anyone like to picnic with me on a Snorlax’s tummy?

TYPING: 

Pure Normal is a great defensive type and a poor offensive one. Weak only to Fighting, but not strong against anything, the best normal types tend to be ones built for survivability. Fortunately, that’s exactly what Snorlax is. 

STATS:

With 160 HP, Snorlax is one of the beefiest Pokemon around, even when Legends are considered. 65 Physical Defense is a bit low for a tank, but  the HP more than makes up for it and 110 Special Defense is rather strong. Further, while there are others with more HP, none of them come with a higher Attack or Special Attack than Snorlax’s 110 Physical. It does have to get by with one of the lowest speeds in the game, but that’s a normal tradeoff for tankier builds.

Art by SillyFoe

ABILITIES:

Snorlax’s three abilities are, surprisingly, all quite good.

Immunity, likely the weakest of the three, grants immunity to Poison. As Toxic is one of the deadliest moves to tanky pokemon, this should be beneficial, but if that’s the worry it’s generally better to just include Rest in your build and instead use one of Snorlax’s other abilities.

Thick Fat, generally the best of the three abilities, grants Snorlax resistance to both Fire and Ice attacks. As Snorlax is generally already being used for defense, this is a great ability that allows it to more easily cover more attackers with the only tradeoff being that you’re then susceptible to Toxic. The vast majority of Snorlax builds are going to want Thick Fat.

And then there’s Gluttony. Gluttony allows a Snorlax to eat either a health-restoring berry or an ability-enhancing berry at 50% HP instead of 25% HP. While this is a very limited number of berries, it’s important to remember that Snorlax has access to the move Recycle and that its G-Max move has a 50% chance to restore a consumed berry. Further, Snorlax can use Belly Drum to immediately halve its HP to maximize its attack stat, and being able to trigger a berry off that enables survivability. A Gluttony Snorlax requires building around Gluttony and thus limits options, but a Gluttony build can be very good.

Art by Gyorkland

MOVES:

As a Gen 1 Normal type, Snorlax has access to way more moves than it will ever need, with random TM access like Thunderbolt and Psychic that it really has no need for. That said, Snorlax also has access to a number of solid attacks.

A Snorlax’s primary attack varies by build, but Double-Edge, Body Slam, and Return/Frustration all offer significant power with STAB. A Snorlax build should probably have one of these moves, but which one is entirely up to you.

For a secondary attack, Rock and Steel types both resist Normal but are conveniently both weak to Fighting and Ground. While Snorlax does have some useful Fighting moves, Earthquake also enables it to hit Ghost types, leaving only a few Pokemon like Mismagius and Skarmory to be serious road blocks.

If further coverage is desired, Snorlax has plenty of it, with the elemental punches, Heavy Slam, Seed Bomb, Darkest Lariat, and plenty of other options. Finding the right attacks is simply not an issue for Snorlax.

What Snorlax is best known for, though, is Rest. With its huge HP and solid defenses, a Snorlax can sleep through most attacks, especially if Sleep Talk is used to make up for the lost turns during Rest.  A Return/Earthquake/Rest/Sleep Talk lineup is a solid option on its own.

Another very popular move on Snorlax is Curse. Curse’s speed debuff is basically negligible to a Pokemon who has almost no speed to begin with, and Snorlax both leans heavily on Attack and can really benefit from just a bit of defense boosts. Further, Snorlax’s bulk and support from Rest enable it to build up Curse with less risk than many other Pokemon. 

Art by Heri-Shinato

And then there’s Gluttony. While a normal Snorlax is going to want Thick Fat, there are a few moves that would make it want Gluttony instead.

First off, G-Max Replenish has a 50% chance of restoring a used Berry, so if you’re planning to Gigantimax your Snorlax in a fight, using your berry early and then recovering it can go a long way. 

Second, Recycle simply restores Snorlax’s berry when used, and when combined with a Figy, Wiki, Mago, Aguav, or Iapapa berry this enables Snorlax to regularly recover HP without worrying about the ‘drawback’ of rest, though how much HP it recovers depends on which generation you’re playing.

Finally, while not exclusive to a Gluttony Snorlax, the use of Belly Drum to halve your HP and immediately max out your Attack stat is far safer when that move triggers berry recovery.  A Gluttony build that includes Belly Drum, Recycle, Body Slam (or Double-Edge), and Earthquake can work quite well for a Gigantamax Snorlax. 

Art by oddsocket

OVERALL:

Snorlax is a great Pokemon with a strong move variety, good abilities, and the ability to play as either a tank with decent attacks or a powerful attacker that can take hits. If anything, it has too many move options, but as more and more Pokemon exist, it’s leveling out to somewhere near fine. In the early days, Snorlax was an overpowered force to be reckoned with, getting weaker overall not because it’s any less competent than it was in Gen 1, but because there’s simply more competition from things like Mega Evolutions and Ultra Beasts.

That said, with a base stat total similar to that of a fully-evolved starter, Snorlax could certainly get a Mega Evolution without breaking anything… unless you’re of the opinion that Megas are already broken. Either way, Snorlax doesn’t really need any help to realize its full potential, it’s just having a bit of trouble keeping up with power creep.

Art by FistEastwood

[shattered-gothic-doll]

He Shattered Me... I Fled

It has been quite some time since I have written on the blog. Real life had taken a hold and it had turned into a bit of a mess. My Mother had lost the ability to walk for a year and so I helped her through that and got her walking again. I have also been dealing with my Father's loss of eyesight and that has been a bit much. I have been swamped with all this, the pandemic, and alongside a sibling who is next to no help and basically just left to go do his own thing. I have been through hell and back drowning and through it all Daddy has been my constant. How He has managed to keep me from completely falling apart with the weight I am under I will never understand. He always seems to be the first to know when it is becoming too much. He stole me away twice... by coming down to Texas and once when I knew I was seconds from losing it I flew up to Missouri to be in His arms and recharge.

I needed the reminder that I am His submissive and He took great care to remind me and to make me feel owned. This last time though I went up mostly because I missed Him and I wanted to see Him before the holidays as I knew once Christmas hit I would not see Daddy until March. I couldn't wait that long. We had missed our anniversary together and I just was over the distance. I still am honestly. It is especially hard on me when I have the bulk of the responsibility on my shoulders at home. I don't have Him here to counter the "Boss" role I have to take on through the day to day. It was wonderful just to spend time with Him. Sexually it was explosive as always, but with us we don't D/s every time in the bedroom, sometimes just Him making love to me is enough to trigger my subspace so we tend not to go overboard. He surprised me with a PS5 for our anniversary present, and I got new Michael Kors shoes in red and white and a Paris Jordan hoodie for Christmas from Him. I think it was mostly to keep me from stealing His LOL. Throughout all this I met more of His family and we met up with our friends who live there and don't get to see me often.

A few nights before I was set to leave Daddy grabbed the blindfold. I said earlier that we do not D/s often in bed and we don't, but the blindfold is something we have never used. I have a collar, cuff, and flogger set with a matching blindfold. It is in my favorite colors of red and black and it is probably my favorite set I have ever owned. A smile came to me as I turned so that He could put it on me. I had no idea what He had planned. This was completely spontaneous and I don't think Daddy knew how far we would take the play. Daddy is still becoming comfortable with exerting His will and Dominance over me. I tend not to push Him, but allow Him to explore this side of Him that has never been used before. His previous relationships did not give Him the comfort or security to show who He really is behind His placating façade. Daddy is very easy going and slow to temper. He shuts down instead as no one believed in Him enough to not question His power base. I am the opposite of every woman He has been with before me. I am the Submissive that knelt before Him and said "I believe in you, I trust you enough with my submission to hand over the reins." For me that is a huge deal as I was a switch before I dedicated my life to submission with Him.

Back to the scene Daddy took control from the very first moment. I didn't speak at all during... there was just something in the air that said He didn't need my words right then... He needed my complete submission and I gave it to Him. He took the flogger to me between mapping my body with His lips and tongue... I never knew which was coming and I felt myself free falling into subspace... but... it felt different. This was intense... I have been blindfolded before during my training years, but this was something else. Something deeper and just more. I couldn't even speak to tell Him that it felt different... that my fall into subspace was happening fast and deeper than I am used to. I started shaking. He kept going.

I could feel the ebb and flow of my body responding to everything He was doing, but surrounded by the darkness I only knew Him. It was not in the same way I have felt before... it was as if I was a part of Him now. The TV was on... I didn't hear it anymore though... I had tears wetting the blindfold, but I was unaware. He then took and made love to me in the slowest most soul rendering way possible. I felt His words to me during it more than I heard them. My world had shattered around me and I hadn't even orgasmed yet. By the time I actually did orgasm at His command, I was on sensory overload and blacked out. When I came to I was... broken. I knew I was broken... He had taken and completely broke me in ways I hadn't been. I was shook and overwhelmed and I don't know what else. I remember Him helping me to the bathroom after helping me get clean... He kept asking if I was okay... I remember telling Him I was... and I was... but I also wasn't. I couldn't stop shaking I kept crying and unable to deal with it I got up and grabbed my cigarettes. I slipped sweatpants on and one of our hoodies... mine I think, but I am not sure.

"Doll." Firm voice and He's sitting up looking at me with deep concern in His eyes.

My mind is reeling and all I can think is 'Don't ask... don't ask... don't ask...' and one other word is in the middle of that mantra... 'Run'.

"I'm okay... I'm... okay..." I responded quickly even as I headed for the door, walked out, and shut it behind me. Once outside I broke even as I lit my cigarette. I SOBBED. I don't even know what shook me so bad... I don't know why I felt so overwhelmed. I just sobbed and smoked. It took a bit for me to calm down, and the whole time I am still shaking. It isn't the cold outside I didn't even feel it though it was very cold out, but it was like my soul was shaking and it was rendering me an emotional wreck. I know it is foolish and I should have just stayed with Him, but I did not want Him to see me break... not like that. I think subconsciously I feared it would completely freak Him out and He wouldn't trust Himself to take me through that deep of a play again? I am still surprised I could even walk let alone end up outside. I remember feeling like I was still in subspace, but all my emotions and sensations were returning to me with the power of being smacked by a fright train at full speed. When I went back inside He said nothing just watched as I undressed and moved back into bed with Him. I was still shaking. He still said nothing as He pulled me back into His arms and surrounded me completely. I cried again though not as hard as I had outside... just soft silent tears as He held me through it and gave me soft kisses with soft spoken "Daddy loves you Doll" until I passed out from sheer exhaustion.

I am startled still by the power He wields that He can take me that deep and render me so broken that I felt the need to flee before He could see it. I do find myself wondering if I should have fled the way I did. I wonder what would have happened and been the end result had I stayed. There are moments where in my submission I tend to shut down and flee rather than frighten Him. I think it is because out of the two of us I am more experienced in the Lifestyle having been involved in it for years though never truly having a Dom of my own. Of course then there is that little dark side of me that questions when I make that decision. Did I do the right thing? Am I not refusing His Dominance over me by fleeing when He breaks me? Is He disappointed that I fled? I am sure at some point He will have to see it, but that one was so much more that even if He had asked me for an explanation I couldn't give it to Him. I am not even sure what He could have done to ease me through it. I didn't stop shaking apparently even when I passed out.

We still have not really talked about it. He questioned me that next morning and I answered what I could about it, but I know my answers were not satisfactory, but I also believe that He knows I can't explain what happened. I felt much lighter after my break and I really hope that Daddy doesn't see what happened in a bad light. It didn't seem like He did. I have been struggling now that I am back home to carry the weight of the "Boss" role again. I feel somewhat resentful that I am not allowed to stay in that frame of mind of deep submission. It is hard sometimes to balance the two. This was the main reason I wanted to stop being a switch and when I am home it is a constant reminder of that role. I am thinking soon there is going to be a shakeup there has to be. I need to find a better way to carry the load of my responsibilities to my family as the submissive soul I am. The next few months are going to be interesting.

~Doll

[magpie-scribbles]

Brass Knuckles

For the serve collab I wrote some spicy Rappa! Enjoy my lovies!!

Rating: E

Pairing: Rappa x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut

_________

Honestly it was a little unsettling, yet...oddly incredibly cool, the pair of brass knuckles gleaming up at you from the pink and white tissue paper that sat inside the overly done up box. You're almost a bit nervous to pick them up, half concerned they might have already been ...broken in; but the way they shone and glinted in the light of your apartment had you plucking the polished metal from their little nest.

They were definitely new as you turned them over in your hands, and then ever so gingerly slipped them over your fingers. They were slightly big, the metal not quite kissing your skin when you balled your fists. But it was a close fit nonetheless and you felt a strange rush of power zip through you as you looked down at the brutish weapons on your knuckles.

You hated to admit it, but you could get used to this feeling.

"Oh jeez!" You had spent so much time admiring the shiny objects you'd completely forgotten that they were part of a whole deal.

Routing through the box you found a small envelope under another layer of tissue paper; a simple envelope, with your name scrawled across the back neatly. A little more excitedly than you wanted to admit you ripped into it, a wrinkled piece of card stock falling out.

'Oh...the same person definitely didn't write this…' your name on the front was so neat and fancy, the company must have written it. This must have been written by your match…Their address; It was legible, chicken scratch but legible. But yikes...you read the address again;  that was not a nice part of town.

You looked at the knuckles adorning your hands, were you literally going to have to use these in order to meet your match...that thought definitely gave you some major anxiety.

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

Well, luckily you hadn't had to use the brass knuckles on your trip over to your match's place, though there were a few times you felt you fists clench around the rings.

But there you were, safe and sound at a not completely awful apartment complex, though it had definitely seen better days. The door to the apartment on the address looked a bit worse for wear, and you can't seem to find a doorbell or buzzer anywhere.

Apprehensively you knock, the metal of the brass knuckles ringing a bit.

It seems like forever as you fidget and wait before you hear heavy footsteps coming towards the door...very heavy...was your match a dinosaur?? You tense as the door opens and you nearly have to do a double take. The man standing before you is huge, so much so that you can't see his face until he hunches over a bit.

"Uuuuhhhhh hey…" you manage to squeak out, waving at the behemoth before you in a daze, holy shit his biceps had to be as thick your thighs… maybe ever your torso.

"Oh shit, ya wore them!" He grins, and pushes the mop of hair back that covered his eyes...oh! He has pretty eyes; honestly you were a bit surprised how pleasing he was. "Ya must be Y/N." He eyes you up and down and you can't help but squirm under his gaze. "Didn't expect to get such a cutie."

You blush and tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

"Thanks." He's already buttering you up and fuck you didn't think you'd be this effected, but god...he's tall, he's buff, he's got a deep rumbling voice and you can tell there is a feralness about him, and well...you shouldn't have already felt your legs beginning to tremble. "Sorry and you are?"

You stick out your hand...you stick out your hand…???

He laughs heartily and humors you, his hand completely engulfing yours and part of your wrist.

"Either you're shy or coy, I can definitely work with both…" your face feels even hotter. "Names' Kendou Rappa." He gives your hand a firm shake and you can tell he's using only the smallest amount of his strength.

He leans against the door frame. Hand that had just been on yours coming to relax on his belt. Your eye, damn them, immediately hone in on the the hands resting against the leather...and then over, No stop that!

"Nice to meet you Rappa" you reply, trying to act you hadn't just been ogling him.

"Call me Kendou, cutie" he's teeth flash. "Now ya comin' or what?"

Was that innuendo or was your brain just going haywire, because you actually got matched with a guy that you were very quickly discovering you would climb like a tree.

"Lead the way big guy." Oh god did you just say that. Either way he seemed to like it, his smirk growing as he stepped aside for you to enter his apartment.

You take his offer, moving past him, trying not to think about the heat of his body or his smell. He shouldn't smell this good…

As you take off your shoes you do a quick survey of the place; it's not awful, definitely a bachelor's pad. At least there weren't any naked lady posters adoring the walls from what you could see... like in the last guys place your friends had set you up with. Sad that a guy that signed up for a night of pleasure and romance with a stranger had more class than a guy your friends tried to get you with.

Removing your jacket you looked around for a hook...only to find it well above your reach...of course it would be, the guy was huge, he probably adjusted a lot of the things in his apartment to work with his size.

You hear him chuckle from behind you and then he's plucking the jacket from your hands.

"So ever done this before? The secret date thing I mean." You ask as he places your jacket up.

"Nah, first rodeo, usually do it the ol' fashioned way." He has an air of confidence about him that makes you think he's never had a problem picking someone up at a bar or club...why did that make you jealous? "How 'bout you princess?"

You sputter at the nickname but quickly regain your composure.

"Been on blind dates before...but nothing like this." You reply...you're still in the entryway of his apartment, glued to your spot.

"Somethin' we have in common then." He grins and fuck you feel weak in the knees.

You wouldn't call his actions or words charming, but truth be told, you didn't want that...no you wanted something else, something primal…

"So...what exactly are we supposed to do now, the sign up info didn't really give any outlines or rules." You fidget with the knuckles on your fists, the metal warming under you touch quickly.

Rappa seems to notice and his golden eyes flash with interest. And he budges up closer to you, not enough to set you on edge, but enough to feel his presence and make you shiver at it.

"Well, way I figure it I'd let ya take the reins sweetheart, whatever you wanna do. We could order dinner, get to know each other, do it the proper way…" he pauses, having piqued your interest.

"...or…" you almost whisper, and he leans in further, enough so his wild mane of hair tickles your face.

"...or." at this point you're sure the only thing keeping you upright was the wall behind you, pressing into your back. "We could move straight to dessert, and do all that other proper stuff later."

You lick your bottom lip; you hadn't been this turned on in awhile, and he hadn't even touched you yet. You definitely didn't want to waste your chance.

Leaning up, you practically had to stand on you tippy toes, your nose brushed his as you breathed in his air, your lips only a whisper away from his own.

"I've always had a sweet tooth…" you reply softly, teasingly.

He chuckles and that, and you can practically feel the rumble of it.

"Looks like we gotta 'nother thing in common." And before you can say another word he's scooping you up, your sound of surprise quickly muffled as he presses his mouth to yours roughly.

You immediately crumble in his arms and sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck, digging your hands into his wild hair. He growls at the feeling of your fingertips and angles his head, inhaling harshly through his nose, his teeth clacking against yours.

God this is what you wanted...what you craved, this primal energy. You register that you are moving but honestly you couldn't care less, already so lost in the feeling that was Rappa.

You hear the switch of a light and a dim glow kisses your closed eyelids. He's laying you down pressing you back into something soft, and you finally come up for air and dazedly take in your surroundings.

His bedroom, it's simple, cozy, though a little lacking in furniture, you see some weights in the corner, haphazardly lying about.

"How ya doin' princess?" He nuzzles into your neck, okay, maybe he was a little charming...in his own way.

You smile bringing your attention back to him, burying your hands in his hair once more and laying into him. You can feel him laugh into the kiss.

He moves you further up the bed, mindful of his weight and size as he drapes over you. One of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, the other slowly creeping beneath the hem of your shirt.

Your head is spinning; you want more and you want it now.

Your hands move to his back, gently pulling at the white fabric covering him. You whine, a pitiful sound that has him groaning, and propping up on his knees more so that you can pull the shirt over his head.

After that, it's a bit of a blur how you tear each others clothes off, his rough, strong hands making quick work of everything adorning you (even the gifted brass knuckles) before gleefully removing his pants and boxers when you hands come to tug at them in a weak attempt to remove them from your position.

Now laid bare Rappa sits up, eyes dark as he gazes over your form. You can hardly get enough of him, all bulk, scarred skin and just the perfect amount of hair dusting his chest, trickling down, down, down...holy shit…

"Look at you." He coos, cocking his head and observing you. "Like what you see??" He has a rather smug smile about that.

"Fuck…" you whisper, your brain shorting out.

He laughs at that and brings himself down for another kiss, which you eagerly accept.

You're already sopping for him, dripping onto the bed, when he presses two large fingers against your pussy. You arch and mewl at the sensation and he takes the opportunity to nip at your pulse point along your neck.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're already dripping for me." He husks against your neck, fingers swirling, gathering up your juices before he slowly presses a finger into you.

Your hands fly to his shoulders as the the thick digit enters you, a moan tumbling from your lips, as he curls the finger experimentally.

"Shit, you're tight, even though you're practically gushing." He groans, beginning to steadily thrust his finger in and out of your heat.

You honestly never knew you had such a thing for dirty words, but as he continued to move and added another finger while whispering the filthiest things in your ear, you felt your first orgasm approaching rapidly.

"Gonna cum for me sweetheart? Go on, make a mess." He's grinning, mouth just brushing against yours.

It only takes two more curls of his fingers before you're crying out, nails digging into his back as pleasure crashes over you, colors popping behind your eyelids.

"Fffuuuuccckkkk…" he groans, watching you tremble and whine as you slowly come back down from your high.

You pause for a moment to catch your breath before he lazily brings you in for a sloppy kiss, which you eagerly accept.

Then your world is spinning and you find yourself upright, legs sprawled on either side of his hips, your pussy smearing your essence along his thighs. Your gaze quickly goes down to the flushed cock laying thick and dribbling precum against his stomach. Honestly, you're not entirely sure how it's going to fit, you wonder if you can even get your hands around it fully. You decide to see if you can do just that, reaching out to grip his heated flesh. You hear him release a shuddering sigh as you run your thumb along one of the veins before completely circling him.

As you thought your fingers didn't touch and your pussy clenched at the notion.

You begin a slow measured rhythm, pumping him, making sure to thumb at the precum gathering at his slit, smearing it over the head and down his shaft.

Suddenly his hand is closing over your wrist and you look up, worried you had done something wrong. But the look in his eyes and the flush on his checks told you otherwise.

"Want ya to ride me, wanna see those pretty tits bounce as ya take my cock." He groans out, and you actually whimper in repy, his words settling heavy and hot in your belly.

You manage enough brainpower to nod and hike yourself up on your knees, positioning yourself over him. His large hands come to rest at your hips.

You grip him, tightly and slowly, ever so slowly you ease down on him. The stretch is both heavenly and too much, you manage to get yourself half way down his cock before you have to stop and take a breather. His hands are heavy on your hips but he doesn't push, even though you can feel the tremble of him holding back.

Finally you get used to feeling enough, pushing yourself the rest of the way down, your pussy lips pressing against his wiry pubic hair. You tremble and whimper, trying to ground yourself; you can hear Kendou trying to steady his breathing.

You place your palms on his abs, steadying yourself and then a moment later you lift yourself up, before impaling yourself again on his cock.

"Fuck princess…" he groans, the grip on your hips almost painful...but you kind of like it.

You begin a slow pace, getting more accustomed to his girth and feeling of his cock pressing up against your cervix. Though it doesn't take long until you're practically bouncing up and down on him and moaning nonsense.

"Kendou…" you whine when he thrusts up to meet you.

"Fuck look at you...look at you take me, such a good girl." He groans, one of his hands moving from your hip to your belly. "Feel that sweetheart?" He snaps his hips up. "Feel me practically rearranging your guts?" He says through gritted teeth.

You look down and nearly lose yourself then and there when he shifts his hand, you can see the press of him in your belly. His cock thrusting up, filling you more than you thought possible.

"Kendddooouuu…" your hands scrabble against his skin, nails digging angry lines down his stomach.

"Ya like that? Like seeing me split ya open." You can only nod in agreement as you weakly try to meet his pace.

You're so close, so close to your second orgasm, your body is singing, thrumming, ready to tumble over the edge.

"Gonna cum for me again? Want me to fill ya up?" His voice was strained, his pace was becoming sloppy, rougher.

"Yes, yes please, please, I'm so close, fill me up Kendou…" you whine, and bless this man, he brings the pad of his thumb to your clit and presses.

That's all it takes, the press of his thumb and you're calling out his name and cumming with such intensity you wonder if you lost consciousness for a moment.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" he hisses, hips snapping up, roughly and then he's pressing impossibly close and groaning as load after load of his cum shoots into you. There's so much it starts to leak out of you before he even pulls out.

You're a mess...sweaty, full of cum, but so incredibly sated you can't even put it to words.

Rappa's hands come to rest fully on your hips again, thumbs gently massaging your hip bones as you both find your words.

"That...was some dessert." You finally manage, your heart fluttering as he gives a genuine laugh.

You squeak in surprise as he picks you up off him like you way nothing, cum leaking out of you as he tucks you into his side.

"Told ya I had a sweet tooth." He replies as you nestle down.

"Mmmm I think I might be a little addicted to sweets now." You say and his large palm comes up to soothe over your hair.

"Whaddya say we order some food, do all the proper stuff and then start round two?" He says and you laugh.

"I think I like that idea."

[reddogcollar]

Gretchen

And a distinct, helpless feeling.

First/Prev/Next

Gretchen rode into Brackenholme, a couple days ahead of schedule. She'd managed to free herself of her duties in Hedgemoor early, and decided to travel ahead of the real heat.

In a half circle behind her, were the Harriers. A fraction of them, at least.

Most of the Harriers who'd fought for her during the war had returned to the lives they'd had before, farmers and blacksmiths, and the like. Nearly none of them wanted to pursue the life of a soldier after being thrust into it.

The name stuck, though.

Of those few who'd remained, Trent was among them. He'd insisted on coming along to Brackenholme.

They both knew he'd be better spent in Hedgemoor, and that he'd be expected to stay. And traveling with him, even with companions, felt daunting, after everything.

Though, it'd be cruel of her to deny him the chance to see his brother after so long, and downright insulting to insinuate he wouldn't be able to make the trip because of his condition.

Despite said condition, he'd seemed to fair well.

Everyone pretended not to notice his obvious discomfort, getting off his horse as they arrived in Brackenholme. She paid special attention to her cane, needlessly inspecting it of any damage that may have happened on the ride.

If was well made, and entirely too sturdy to sustain any notable damage. She scrutinized it thoroughly though, until Trent came up beside her.

It was probably hard on his knees, if she had to guess, which he'd commented on before.

The war and everything Lucas and his Wyldwolves, may they all rot, did to him had put tremendous strain on his joints. It frustrated her to no end that everything that could be done for him already had been.

His health was as good as it was going to get.

Putting the matter aside, as there truly wasn't anything she could do, especially now, she handed off her horse to one of the Harriers and walked to one of the lifts, as quickly as she could without dropping her cane and breaking into a run.

Trent followed, not bothering to try and squash down his obvious excitement. It was clear to anyone who looked at him he was there for a visit, and barely considered himself to be on duty.

She stepped into one of the Great Oaks lifts, Trent just a step behind her, and ran her hand through her hair as it lurched upwards. She knew there was no reason to, but she felt apprehensive.

As if the letters she'd received had been false, and there were strangers waiting at the top to tell her her loved ones were already dead.

After everything, it was hard to believe they'd survived.

She sighed, gripping her hair in a fist and putting most of her weight on her cane, and got a reassuring look from Trent. Before he could say anything, the lift came to a stop and she had to straighten and smooth out her hair before stepping out.

Forcing herself to keep to a brisk walk, she went through the halls with Trent beside her, just a half step behind, nodding at those she passed until she entered the main hall, where all the apprehension dissipated instantly.

There was Drew, looking troubled and staring out a window. Farther back in the room, Bergan stood talking with an advisor about something she could not hear.

Lady Rainer was elsewhere.

They came up behind Drew and Gretchen tapped him on the shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and causing him to flinch and turn around.

A grin split his face the second he laid eyes on them.

"Gretchen, Trent!" He briefly hugged each of them in turn, "You're here ahead of schedule, aren't you?"

"After freeing myself up, I could think of no reason to delay." She smiled, "Staying in Brackenholme has always been quite relaxing. How've you been?"

"Troubled, truth be told." He said, dropping his smile and glancing out the window, as if he were about to be lost in thought again, before waving it away, "But lets not worry about such things for now, its great to see you two. How've you been?"

She nodded, respecting his privacy no matter how she'd like to pry. It troubled her to think a friend of hers was suffering and there was, yet again, nothing she could do.

"I'm glad to see you too. I've honestly been feeling better than I have since before everything. Things are finally starting to feel solid again."

It was Drew's turn to nod. He was no stranger to the instability of war, either.

"And you, Trent?" He asked, turning to his brother, "How's Hedgemoor treating you?"

The brothers talked, briefly comparing their living arrangements to what they'd had on the Cold Coast before growing solemn and changing the subject, while she noticed Bergan coming over.

Not wanting Drew and Trent to be interrupted, they'd had very little time to talk face to face, even after the war, she met him halfway.

"Gretchen, my dear!" He pulled her into a bear hug, aptly enough, "Tell me, how've you and Hedgemoor faired since your last letter?"

"Thing's seem to be getting better by the day, Uncle. After Krupha's occupation in Hedgemoor, I feared none of the people would truly be able to rest until they'd all been replaced by a new generation. As for me, I've no troubles that I could burden you with." She smiled at him.

Of course, she had troubles, but that didn't mean she had the need to burden anyone with them but herself.

He nodded, leaving one of his hands on her shoulder.

"I'm glad to know you're finally coming to peace, as well as your city. What of Redmire?" He asked, as most developments had been so recent she hadn't had time to write of them.

"Redmire is being governed by a cousin of Count Fripp's, Brenn rest his soul, now that the bulk of his work in Bray is taken care of. Everyone who'd been displaced has returned, and you can barely tell what happened there. I only need to take care of one city now."

It'd felt like her duty, Hector being her cousin and the only remaining boar. He probably wouldn't want to be a Baron even if he could, anyways.

"Though, of course, that's also not a permanent arrangement. Its merely a favor on behalf of his departed cousin. Between the two of us, though, we'll have to find a suitable replacement before the stress of running two cities becomes too much for him as well." She explained, even now feeling guilty for putting what should be her duty onto an old man.

More so, it pained her that it was her duty in the first place, and not her cousin's to take care of. While being a Baron may not be his ideal, it'd mean he wasn't imprisoned, at least.

"No more of this political talk, though," She rushed on, quickly changing the subject, "How are you, Uncle?"

"I'm afraid how I am would be deeply intertwined with political talk, no matter what," He chuckled, "But I suppose I'm as fine as I can be. Busy, with this new celebration, that may well become annual, but its good to have a change of pace every now and again, eh?"

"And how goes all this preparation?"

"As smoothly as it could. Though I suppose that's helped by there being no strict guideline as to how things should go yet." His smile was barely visible through his beard.

She wasn't sure he'd ever been without it.

"If there's anything I could assist with, you know I will." She offered, then after his thanks, excused herself and left the Great Oak entirely.

She understood the concept behind celebrating their victory, and how it may boost the citizens morale, but she couldn't separate the concept from pointless slaughter.

Everyday that passed brought them nearer to when the war was won, and it made her feel ill. The reason she'd come to Brackenholme wasn't to celebrate, but to surround herself with as many people as possible, fearing what come when she was alone.

The Cats of Bast left an undeniable mark on all in Lyssia, not least on her.

She walked to clear her head, having no designation in mind, simply focusing on the rhythm of her footsteps and cane on cobble paths.

The celebration would mean remembering Whitley's death, sacrificing herself to save Trent, Cape Gala, and Lucas, in all his wretchedness.

To think she'd once looked forward to being married to him...

She walked that bit faster, focusing on the rhythm and nothing else until she found herself at the Garrison Tree.

Looking for anything to break her from her reverie, she went up to see Hector. It'd be nice to finally speak with him, with such scant replies he'd had to any letters she'd sent.

She was stopped dead by the guard stationed outside his room, though.

"I apologize, my lady, but I'm under orders to not let anyone see the Boarlord. He's been classified a danger to himself and others." He explained, tipping his head in a sign of respect.

She glared, finding that to be the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. What was more absurd, was that the orders would have had to have come from Drew.

"If he's a danger to himself, does locking him up alone really make sense?" She argued, crossing her arms and refusing to go back down.

"It does if he's a danger to others."

"Have you SEEN that boy?! There's no way he's a danger!" She said, quickly losing her patience with the guard, though she knew he was just following his orders.

"Tell that to Queen Amelie!" The guard exclaimed, becoming invested in the argument. It became clear he held some sort of resentment toward Hector.

Gretchen rolled her eyes, scoffing.

"She practically fell on his knife, it hardly counts as an example!"

"He raised a city of the dead! Where your cousin died, might I add!" The guard waved one of his hands about, gesturing as he spoke and nearly knocking against the door he stood in front of.

"It was Lucas who killed Whitley, and you'd do well to remember that!" She practically shouted at him, standing up straighter and becoming red in the face with anger. She wouldn't have Lucas's misdeeds attributed to her cousin.

"Besides, Hector was possessed the entire time. He can't be blamed for Icegarden." She added, regaining her composure to the best of her ability.

"He tricked the White Bears out of their city and took it over with the Ugri!"

"Well he didn't kill anyone to do it! He's hardly dangerous, and especially not to me, of all people." She said, to no avail.

The guard wouldn't budge, which was a comfort to a small part of her. At least if no one was allowed in, he'd be safe in there.

But loneliness clearly didn't agree with him, and he hardly needed to be protected from her.

She argued with the guard until her legs grew sore, and she started leaning on her cane more noticeably.

The guard sighed, standing up straighter and putting on a passive look.

"You're not seeing him and that's final, my lady. Those are my orders and I will not go back on them. You'd do well to go enjoy the rest of your day, instead of spending it arguing with me."

She bit the inside of her cheek, glaring at the guard. It was clear he wouldn't be swayed by any amount of arguing, and she didn't fancy trying to bribe him.

Furious, she left the Garrison Tree in search of Drew.

She found him just as he was coming off one of Great Oak's lifts, catching him unawares and grabbing him by the wrist.

"We need to talk, Wolf."

He looked surprised, not only by her tone but what she'd called him. Though it was leagues above "mutt", she'd reserved titles such as that for strangers.

She pulled him aside, where people were less likely to be disturbed by the impending argument, before going off on him.

"What in the world could've gotten into you, Ferran, to not only let Hector be confined to a cell in the first place, but now for me to find you've ordered your soldiers not to let him be seen, calling him a danger that he hardly presents?!" She demanded, keeping her voice low.

If she were to shout at him, everyone outside would hear.

This only made his surprised look appear more dramatic, muddled by confusion and a small amount of offence.

"Gretchen, that order was made by Bergan, just a couple of days ago! There's nothing I can do about it, short of trying to convince him otherwise, which I've been trying to do whenever I get the chance." He explained, quick to redirect her anger.

"Why in Brenn's name would he do that?!" She huffed, twisting her cane and driving it into the dirt.

Drew hesitated, as if conflicted, before clasping his hands.

"It'd be best if Hector told you." He answered, refusing to answer in any useful way.

"Well I can't if I'm not allowed to see him."

He was quiet for a moment, looking at the Garrison tree, craning his head back to see the top.

"Well, I climbed the tree last night." He supplied, looking back at Gretchen.

She turned to look up at the Garrison tree, rubbing her thumb on the smooth wood of her cane.

She could go for periods of time without it, but it was never long before the pain became impossible to ignore. She'd done the injury no favors in Icegarden, and the strain had undone a good portion of the healing it'd gone through prior.

She didn't regret a thing.

"I don't think that'd work for me." She said finally, looking back at Drew. She may be able to walk a distance but she had no desire to test her limits climbing up and down a Great Oak.

"Yeah." He nodded, tapping the White Fist's pointer against its thumb.

The clicking was the only sound between them for a moment, before the White Fist crunched, Drew holding it in a fist with a smile on his face.

"I may be able to help you though, come." He walked off in the direction of the Garrison Tree, not waiting. He stopped at a bench alongside the cobble path, a short ways away from the Tree, and had her sit down and wait.

He went into the Garrison Tree, and she was to wait either for the guard or Drew to come out, depending on if he could be convincing.

A minute passed, then another, and another.

After the fifth, she saw the guard leaving the Garrison Tree, seeming pleased with himself.

She waited another ten minutes before no one was in sight, and got up, walking as if she had nowhere to be and was just enjoying a stroll, before darting into the Garrison Tree the moment she neared it.

Outside Hector's door stood Drew, standing guard.

She smiled, thankful for his help, and slipped into the cell.

Hector sat a table with a book in front of him, looking at her with an owlish expression, as if he hadn't expected her.

"Hello, cousin." She quickly closed the distance, briefly touching his shoulder in greeting instead of hugging him. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Gretchen! Hi!" He smiled awkwardly, slapping the book shut and pushing it away from him. "This is rather unexpected!"

"I apologize for that, but unexpected was the only way I'd get to see you, it seems." She sat down, and asked, "What happened with Bergan?"

He grew as stiff as the covers on his books, and looked uncomfortable.

"Nothing important, really." He said, obviously not wanting to talk about the subject.

"Hector, it absolutely is important! Why have I been barred from seeing you?" She asked, refusing to ignore what was happening. She couldn't do anything if she couldn't understand.

"You really needn't worry about me, I'm fine. I'll get by." He insisted, glancing around the room. After everything, it seemed he still had trouble with eye contact.

"Of course I need to worry about you! You're my cousin and now you're being isolated. What kind of family would I be if I did nothing?"

"You'd be much happier family if you simply didn't concern yourself with it! I've enough books to keep me entertained should I be isolated, it won't kill me." He insisted, wrapping his good arm around his chest in an imitation of crossing them.

"Books do not substitute for a conversation, and if you're smart you'd know isolation isn't good for you no matter how books you've got!" She said, thumping her cane against the floor for emphasis despite being seated.

"I want to help you, but I can't if I don't know the full extent of the problem." She said, losing her argumentative tone for a more concerned one.

Hector stayed quiet, looking solemn.

"I can't tell you." He said quietly, looking down at the table top.

"Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do!" He quickly looked up, before appearing ashamed of himself. "I simply fear you wouldn't trust me."

They both flinched when they heard Drew knock on the door, softly three times.

That was her cue to leave, lest they run into someone on the way out and get caught.

She sighed, standing.

"I'll be back, cousin. And I expect to find out what happened. I'll help you no matter what." She put her hand on his shoulder again, lingering there while he gave his short goodbye.

With no excuse to stay and risk getting caught, she pulled herself away.

She spent the rest of the evening in Bergan's hall, puzzling out Hector's situation and what she could do. There had to be something, she refused to helplessly stand by.

It was there she finally bumped into Lady Rainer.

"Hello, Gretchen," She greeted her, smiling warmly, "I'm sorry I missed you when I arrived."

"It's no trouble." Gretchen waved it away, lost in thought and only half listening.

"Is something on your mind?" Rainer frowned. "You seem distracted."

She was quiet for a moment, considering whether or not Rainer would be able to help her. The Duchess had always been more reasonable than her husband, surely this matter was no different.

"You know what Bergan is doing to Hector, yes?"

Rainer's expression dropped, becoming saddened as she nodded.

"Aye."

"And it's a horrible thing to do, to isolate him!"

"It is." She nodded again, "I've talked to him about it, but he has the final say when it comes to serious crime. And he can be as stubborn as a goat."

"Hector is barely a criminal." Gretchen straightened, prepared to get into another argument.

"Gretchen," Lady Rainer started slowly, taking time to pick her words carefully, "I care for him too but he did seize Icegarden, nearly starve out your uncle, and kill the queen. These things shouldn't be overlooked."

"He was sick in the head! He shouldn't be vilified for being ill!" Gretchen argued, refusing to see her cousin mistreated.

"Of course he shouldn't. But it doesn't excuse the harm he caused. He can be helped without us disregarding his mistakes, which would do more hard than good." She said, still taking time to choose her words.

Years of debating with Bergan had forced her to hone the skill of convincing people she was right.

Gretchen deflated, becoming tired and sullen instead of angry.

"I have very little family left, and I cannot lose him, neither to death or Bergan disallowing me from speaking to him." She said, her voice coming out flat.

"I know. I haven't stopped trying to make him be more reasonable, and I don't intent to." Lady Rainer assured her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

It made her feel that much less helpless.

"Thank you."

[five-rivers]

Mask

Danny slouched against the back wall of the ballroom, mask dangling from his fingers. He didn't want to be here. If his parents weren't out there having the time of their lives, he wouldn't be here, but someone had to keep an eye on them and keep them from getting sucked into whatever scheme Vlad had this time.

He sighed, tracking the bulk of his father across the dance floor. His mother was harder to see, but she was never far behind.

A masquerade ball. Really. Ancients, Vlad was so pretentious.

(Internally, Danny thought that a masquerade ball could be cool... except, well. Vlad.)

His mother briefly emerged from the crowd, caught his eye, and mimed putting on his mask. Apparently she was watching him, too. With a grumble, he put the mask back on. Vlad had given it to him, and although he couldn't see or feel anything wrong with it, he still felt that it was suspect.

"Did your parents make you come, too?"

Danny glanced over. A girl was standing a few feet away. Her dress was red and puffy, and her mask was golden. Her hair was done up in complicated braids. She was, perhaps, one or two years younger than he was, though it was hard to tell with the mask. She was certainly shorter than him.

The silhouette of her dress crumpled as she also slumped against the wall. "You'd think that a masked ball would be, you know, cool, but it's just a bunch of old people jumping around and trying to talk business with the 'great Vlad Masters.'"

"Ouch," said Danny. "At least my parents aren't trying to do that, I guess."

"Oh, yeah? What are they doing, then?" asked the girl.

"I honestly have no idea," said Danny, watching his parents gyrate across the floor again. "Dancing? You could call it dancing." He shrugged.

"Ah," said the girl. "My name's Ellie, by the way."

"Danny," said Danny. "Nice to meet you."

"Same. So, what do your parents do?"

"They're scientists," said Danny, not wanting to get into the whole 'ghost hunting' thing. This wasn't Amity Park. Most people didn't believe in ghosts.

Ellie bobbed her head. "Cool, cool. I kinda want to be a scientist. Like, finding out new things, it just sounds really awesome?"

"Yeah, it can be fun sometimes," said Danny. "I don't understand most of it, though." He rolled his shoulders. Actually, he understood a lot more of his parents' work than he let on, in some specific areas more than them, even. Admitting that wasn't wise, however. "What field are you interested."

"Astrophysics, definitely," said Ellie, firmly. "Space is the coolest thing."

Danny grinned. "Oh, yeah. There's just so much. I mean, have you ever looked at the Hubble Deep Fields?"

.

Two teens talking together and having a good time evidently had a magnetic property. Three other high school kids had come to join them, all boys.

One boy was very tall and broad. During their introduction, Danny reflected that if he was on Casper's football team, Dash wouldn't be the star player anymore. Unlike Dash, however, Dustin was quiet, barely speaking at all and always deferring to the others.

The second boy introduced himself as Damien, and he was also tall, but thin and skeletal, like a strong breeze would blow him away. He seemed to realize this, because he had a pair of small enamel pins on the lapel of his suit: a skeleton and a scarecrow.

The last, Dmitri, a redhead, was about the same size as Danny. He reminded Danny of Jazz, for some reason (clearly, her psychology-camp-induced absence was driving him a little crazy). And, less pleasantly, of Wes. He had... a lot of questions. Not quite to the point of being annoying, but still a lot. There was also something wrong with his mask. It was hard to tell, but it looked almost as if one eye of it had been filled in. Danny didn't want to mention it, and ruin the atmosphere, though.

There was an atmosphere. Shockingly enough, these kids liked him, and they were much cooler than Danny would have expected of kids who's parents had been invited by Vlad. Which, yeah, was maybe a weird prejudice on his part. His parents had been invited by Vlad, after all.

Danny liked them back.

"... and the names of the dark matter candidates, whoever thought them up was a genius," said Dmitri, waving his hands.

"Well, yeah," said Danny, grinning, "if they were allowed to pick the names, they probably were the ones to come up with the whole idea for it in the first place. But I think MACHOs might be more likely than WIMPs. You've heard about the exoplanets they found last year?" He let his eyes briefly lose focus. "I bet there are even more of them, that we just can't see yet."

"Yeah, but there have been a lot of tests for MACHOs," said Damien. "You'd think we'd have seen a least a couple. And what about dark energy?"

"I don't think those two are actually related," said Ellie.

"Sure they are. They both have the word dark in them."

"Yeah, but I don't think they actually have anything to do with each other," said Ellie.

"They just have similar names," said Dustin.

"We can look it up, later," said Dmitri.

"Speaking of related," said Danny, "how are you guys related?"

There was a pause. "How'd you know?" asked Ellie. "Like, I could understand if you could see our faces, but..."

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. It just... Felt that way?

"We're cousins," said Damien, leaning forward. His body language spoke of nerves.

Danny couldn't imagine why Damien would be nervous about that, but he probably had his reasons. Family drama, maybe. It wasn't Danny's place to ask, he was a stranger.

Even if he was rather wishing he wasn't. How often did he meet people who shared so many of his interests? Never.

(Well, they were mostly just talking about the one interest, space, but still. And Dustin had mentioned liking Dumpty Humpty.)

"That's cool," he said. He would have liked to have helped. Maybe he still could, somehow? He and his parents were going to be here for a few days.

If he focused, there was an aura of something being not quite right with the cousins. Nothing he could put his finger on, and nothing to do with them as people, but... something.

"Hey," said Ellie, "what do you say we raid the snack table? It can't all be super fancy stuff we can't name, can it? I mean, at least there's punch."

Danny followed Ellie's gaze to the refreshments table. When he'd been over there before, everything had been covered, and he hadn't felt like fighting his way back across the floor and potentially losing sight of his parents. He glanced at them now. They looked like they were having fun.

He lightly bit at his lower lip. He knew Vlad had to be up to something. Otherwise, why bother with all of this?

But... new friends... He liked friends, and Vlad was always up to something. Danny deserved to have a little fun now and again, even so.

"Sure," he said. "We can ruin our dinner."

Ellie snickered. "That's the spirit!" she said, patting Danny on the back and slipping past him.

He smirked at the pun, even if it was unintentional.

"Yeah, better do it now, before there's a punchline," said Dmitri. "Wouldn't want people to think we're in a joke."

Danny choked a little, trying to swallow a laugh.

"That was terrible. You're terrible," said Damien.

"Hey, our new friend seems to like it," said Ellie.

Danny's core did a little bounce when she said friend. He really did want to be friends. "What can I say," he said, shrugging. "Better a joke, than a fist?"

Dmitri smiled broadly. Damien groaned, arcing his long body back dramatically.

There wasn't a line for the punch, or even very many people around the snack table at all. What few people had been there moved off, glaring, when the five children descended on the table. He caught Ellie sticking her tongue out at a woman who was giving them a particularly dirty look.

They gathered cups of punch and piled tiny plates high with pastries before retreating to a nearby corner to resume their conversation.

Danny was having a harder time following it this time, though. He felt tired. Drained. A little overheated. He wasn't used to wearing this suit. He went back to refill his punch a few times.

Words started to blur together. The inside of his head felt staticky. But he also... really content... New friends... His core felt strange...

"Danny?" a hand on his shoulder made him flinch, which made him sway rather dangerously. "Are you okay?"

Danny blinked at Ellie. "I don't feel..." he mumbled. What? What didn't he feel?

"Did someone spike the punch?"

"There's a room back here, you can lie down."

"I'll go get Father, he'll know what to do."

He was gently guided out of the ballroom, most of his weight resting on Dustin. There was a reason he should stay in the ballroom, but he couldn't remember what it was. Was someone missing?

Wait, spike the punch? Was he drunk?

The thought was lost almost instantly. His core, and therefore his mind, was lost in delirium and delight. New friends! But they needed his help, there was something wrong with them. But he could help! So, everything was good, and he loved his new friends very much.

The place they took him to was darker and quieter than before. They laid him down on something soft and squishy, and he giggled, weakly. They were talking. They might have been talking to him, but he couldn't understand aaaaaaaaanything.

He was so happy, helping his new friends.

The light changed as the door to the room opened. Music and other noises from the party briefly grew in volume, and were muffled again as the door swung closed.

"Well, that was faster than expected."

Vlad's voice briefly pulled him back into lucidity, and he struggled to sit up before collapsing again. No, all his energy had to go to his friends. They needed it. No time for Vlad.

Still, he glared up at the older man as he leaned over him. There were two Vlads. Was that because he was seeing double, or because Vlad had split himself?

The question was answered as Vlad picked Danny up. Danny was distressingly limp. He couldn't redirect any energy to his muscles, and thinking was hard. There was a thunk, and one of the walls opened up, revealing a hidden staircase. Vlad carried Danny down, but that was okay, because his new friends came with them, and- Oh!

There was another new friend down here!

Danny's core reached out to his newest new friend.

.

He came back to himself with only the sensation that something was wrong wrong wrong. He jolted up, only to be stopped by a pressure across his chest and shoulders. He squinted, trying to see. His mask was gone, and the clothing he was in felt different, looser.

"What'd you do with'm?" he demanded.

"They're just in the next room, Daniel," said Vlad. "Calm down. I had no idea you'd get attached to them so quickly. I had a whole program for this week for you to get to know them."

"No," said Danny. He finally managed to get his eyes open. He was in Vlad's lab, lying on something padded. He'd been strapped down, and there were various IVs running into his arms. One of them was a lurid ectoplasmic green.

"No?"

"Won't calm down. What did you do to me?"

"Nothing."

"This isn't nothing." He finally managed to find Vlad with his eyes. The man was sitting almost behind him. It was difficult to bend his eyes to look that way.

"Oh, very well then. I increased the energy levels in your core, allowing you to wake up and us to have this lovely conversation. The rest, my dear boy, was all you. An instinctive reaction on the part of your core, although you, as usual, took it too far."

"What?"

Vlad walked around the tube, to a position where Danny could see him more easily. "This will require some explanation. I realize this situation isn't intuitive, to one such as yourself." Vlad waved a dismissive hand.

Danny scowled, but had the presence of mind to bite his tongue. He needed to know what was going on. He was beginning to suspect that Vlad had drugged him, put something in the food or punch that only affected ghosts and half ghosts, but he had a feeling that wasn't quite right.

"After you and Jasmine blew up my football field, I came to the conclusion that you would never accept me as a father," said Vlad, with the air of someone narrating a tragedy. "I was forced to reconsider my methods and goals. You see, Daniel, all I really wanted was to be loved."

In Danny's personal opinion, that was a load of crap. Vlad, more than anything else, wanted control, he wanted power.

""To be loved," continued Vlad, "and understood." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "And who could understand me, but a fellow half ghost? So, I decided to make one."

"Wait, wait, hold up," said Danny, beyond horrified. "You made someone a half ghost? You killed someone?"

"What? No, don't be ridiculous, Daniel. I cloned you."

He pointed at something behind and to the left of Danny, and Danny craned his head back to see a tall, vertical tube full of ectoplasm. Inside floated a boy who looked just like Danny in Phantom form. The boy's eyes were closed, and there were tubes and wires connected to his body.

"That's just as bad. Oh my gosh, Vlad, you can't just clone people! Why didn't you clone yourself?"

Vlad's face twisted like he had just bitten into a lemon. "I had attempted to do so, initially, however, my ectoacne and other instabilities in my makeup precluded me from doing so. Cloning you was my only choice."

"We cured your ectoacne," said Danny.

"Yes. But I had already started this project. It did take time to grow your brother into maturity, Daniel. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, David was unstable."

"David?"

"The name given to him by your other siblings. Do keep up, Daniel."

"Other- You made more clones? Why?"

"I had done some research," said Vlad. "Into how ghosts normal reproduce and stabilize children. I discovered that family members, those ghosts with similar ectosignatures and core properties, play a major role in stabilizing and providing energy to newly formed ghosts. My ectosignature was too different from David's, but I thought that if I could just make one stable clone..." Vlad trailed off, the look in his eyes almost haunted. "I tried everything. A mix of your DNA and ectosignature and mine, extra DNA from your sister, your mother, even your father. Nothing worked!" Vlad threw his hands up, angrily. "They are all more stable, but none of them are completely stable!"

It took Vlad several seconds to calm down, during which Danny put a few more puzzle pieces together.

"Ellie and the others, they're all clones?" That hurt, for some reason. Did they like him at all, or were they only being nice to him because Vlad told them to.

"Yes," said Vlad. "Danielle is the most stable." He smoothed down the front of his lab coat.

"So, you need me to stabilize them. That's why you drugged me?"

"I didn't drug you Daniel. Your collapse was a surprising to me as it was to you. Based on my readings, I can only conclude that your core recognized Danielle, Dustin, Damien, and Dmitri as family, registered their instability, and attempted to rectify it by boosting your ectosignature and sending them energy. Unfortunately, the effort overwhelmed you. You are only a child yourself, and..." Vlad trailed off, almost sheepish, "it is my understanding that they process is usually undertaken by multiple adult family members, and with only one child at a time."

"Great," said Danny. "And you didn't plan for that to happen at all."

"I had believed that you would bond with them more slowly," said Vlad. "That your reaction wouldn't be so extreme."

"Well, it was," said Danny. "But they're stable now, right? So, you can let me go." He tugged against the restraints again. He hoped they were stable. He had heard his parents talk about what happened to destabilized ghosts.

"Sadly," said Vlad, sounding like he was gritting his teeth, "that is an incorrect assumption."

There was a long pause.

"I want to make a deal with you, Daniel," said Vlad.

"You- Are you asking me for help?" Not that Danny could refuse. For one, he was tied up, for another...

"I suppose. For my children. They are children, Daniel, and they will die if they aren't stabilized. Painfully. Perhaps not today, but within the month."

Danny's heart clenched, and his core shivered. Even if Ellie and the others had been tricking him, he didn't want them to die. He would do what Vlad asked, if it stabilized his... cousins.

He was going to go with cousins for now. Siblings felt a little too close at the moment, and 'clones' was sort of dehumanizing. They were the ones who had started it, calling each other cousins.

But even if he was going to cooperate with Vlad, that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to get as many concessions out of Vlad as possible. True, he wasn't going to get very many, Vlad was holding the cards in this game, but he still might be able to get something.

"What kind of deal?" he asked, cautiously.

"You cooperate with stabilizing the cores of my children," said Vlad, "and I will make sure your little town stays safe and protected. Fail to cooperate, and not only will Amity Park be exposed and helpless against any ridiculous poltergeist that comes through your parents' portal, but you will be unconscious. As demonstrated earlier, you do not need to be awake for your core to be at work."

Danny frowned. Apart from the threat (honestly, Vlad was borderline pathological) that was a pretty good deal. Heck, Danny wasn't even supposed to be back in Amity Park until the end of the week.

It was a good deal... too good.

"Exactly how long do you think it'll take, anyway?" he asked. "To stabilize all of them?"

"I don't know, Daniel, this hasn't ever been done before."

Danny scowled. He hated it when Vlad said his name with that supercilious tone of voice. "Fine. How long does it take with ghosts, Vlad? You said you researched it, didn't you?"

"The time varied based on a number of factors," said Vlad.

"It takes a long time, doesn't it?" asked Danny. "I want a cover story. One that doesn't make me disappearing for Ancients know how long my fault. I want to be able to talk to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz whenever I want. And I want to be able to veto anything too invasive or dangerous."

"You're hardly in a position to make demands."

Danny made a shrugging motion, hoping that Vlad wouldn't call his bluff.

"I can do the first," said Vlad, finally, "but if you want it to hold up, the second is impossible. The last is ridiculous. Cooperation means full cooperation, nothing less."

That was about what he had expected. "If I can't communicate with them, they'll just show up here, guns blazing. You know that."

"I think I can handle three human teenagers."

"Sure, but do you want to have to?"

Vlad frowned. "I will consider the merits of your suggestion," he said. "I'm impressed, actually. I didn't think you had it in you, to bargain with lives on the line." Danny swallowed to keep himself from gagging. "But in the meantime, do you agree to cooperate, or no?" He drummed his fingers on something Danny couldn't see.

Between Danny's Obsession, and what were apparently ghostly family bonding instincts, there really wasn't any way for him to say no. "Yes, fine, whatever. I'll cooperate. You can let me out of these things, now." He pulled at the restraints again.

"Oh, no," said Vlad, smiling, then moving out of Danny's line of sight. "Those are for your own protection. You see, your core isn't really mature enough to cope with sustaining five other cores, so we are going to have to significantly supplement your ectoenergy levels."

There was a small click, and the table Danny was on started moving backwards. After a few inches, it angled up, until it was vertical. Danny discovered that there were little platforms under his bare feet, and other supports to keep him upright in his new position. Directly to his left, floated the clone, David, in the glass tube. Danny's core seemed to strain in that direction. His eyelids fluttered.

Vlad walked back over and pulled something with two tubes attached to it from the space over Danny's head. "Open up," he said.

"Why?" asked Danny.

"This is a breathing mask," said Vlad. "It will supply you with oxygen and atomized ectoplasm at three times the levels generally available in the Ghost Zone. But this part," he tapped part of the mask that was fitted with something like a bite guard, "needs to go inside your mouth."

After a moment of hesitation, Danny opened his mouth, and Vlad inserted the breathing mask. Almost at once, Danny could tell the difference. The air coming through was just so much richer.

Vlad pressed the cup of the mask over Danny's mouth and nose and sealed the edges with tape.

"Now," Vlad said, as he began pulling other things from the ceiling and attaching them to Danny, "in a few minutes, I'm going to start giving you instructions. I want you to follow them. Cooperate, do you understand? The first thing I want to do is stabilize David enough that he is no longer dependent on the containment chamber to survive."

Danny was getting a bad feeling. Many of the wires Vlad was attaching to him mirrored wires attached to David. Vlad attached a few more wires, and inserted several needles. Danny tried to hiss at those, but the mask acted as an effective gag. Finally, Vlad inserted two small plugs into Danny's ears and stepped back, half smiling.

As Danny had almost expected, a curved glass barrier sprang from behind him and encircled him, trapping him in a chamber much like the one David occupied. Ectoplasm began to bubble up from below, from a source Danny couldn't see.

"You will be submerged shortly." Vlad's voice rang clear in the earbuds. "This will allow you to intake ectoplasm through your skin. You will also be in the same environment as David."

The ectoplasm hit the soles of Danny's feet, and he flinched. It was rising rapidly.

"Do try not to panic," said Vlad. "Now, I want you to focus on David."

It was at Danny's knees, now. He took a deep breath, reassuring himself that the mask was in place. He wasn't going to drown. He looked over at David. What did it even mean, to focus on him? Danny had no idea what he was like, not really. Like him, he guessed, but not?

"With your ghost sense, Daniel," said Vlad. "Not your eyes."

Danny scowled at him, trying to distract himself from the fact that the ectoplasm was up to his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to do... that. It wasn't something he normally did and had no idea how to go about it but-

Ah. Oh, there it was. There he was, Danny's new friend. That was easier than expected. Danny's core began to purr, some of the euphoria from earlier in the night returning.

The ectoplasm closed over his head.

"Good," said Vlad, his voice slightly warped. "It appears that you have connected. Now, I am going to stimulate and amplify that connection. I want you to stay focused."

Of course Danny would stay focused. He was helping his friend, wasn't he? He always stayed focused when it came to that.

Several of the places Vlad had attached wires began to tingle. His core jumped and he twitched. Everything briefly took on a very severe cast.

It was very hard to think, after that.

.

Vlad smiled at his readouts. Securing Daniel's cooperation beforehand had been worthwhile. Had he been struggling, it would have been difficult to establish the connection to this extent. David's energy and stability levels were increasing slowly but steadily. Despite the measure he was taking, Daniel's were dropping. Some of the data concerning his human half was less than ideal. That would be troublesome to deal with later on.

He took a moment to check in on his duplicate upstairs. The party was going well. Jack and Maddie hadn't noticed Daniel's absence yet. With luck, they wouldn't until the next morning.

Overall, tonight had been fruitful. With Daniel, he would be able to stabilize all five of the clones, and, perhaps, he would even be able to win over Daniel. He had seen the relaxed smile on his face when he had been with the clones. Vlad knew how powerful ghost instincts could be.

He stood up and walked over to the room where he had asked his children to wait. They should be told that their elder siblings would make a full recovery shortly.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Intro to Balancing Your Life || Morgan & Sasha

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @sasha-r-blog & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Sasha drops in on a new class on campus; Morgan is only too happy to offer encouragements.

“…And who is it that determines the definition of humanity? What kind of definitions do we see offered by Victor, or Henry Cleveral, or the Creature?” Morgan asked the class. The students, while not thrilled with some of Mary Shelley’s ‘big words’ had enough preparation to offer semi thoughtful ideas. Obviously, Victor thought he could define what human means. One of her try-hard students, eager to please every adult in sight, posited that while Victor’s definition of humanity is the one that dominates the narrative, the intrusion of the creature’s perspective halfway through the book is meant to compel the reader into questioning its validity. “Yes!” Morgan tossed the kid a candy from her bowl. “The midpoint crisis here upends our expectations through thought, rather than action. It is, structurally, the center, the heart of the story, changing what we believe to be true. But, are we convinced by the Creature’s definition of his humanity? Why or why no–”

Morgan’s timer, the theme song of The X-Files, went off.

“Shit. Alright, that’s time everybody! Do your homework, do your reading, and get ready for Fan-Fiction Friday! And you–” She pointed to the newcomer sandwiched at the corner of the seminar table. “Come see me for a minute. The rest of you: glad you love each other, but please get out.” As the room cleared out she began to gather up her things. “I’ll level with you, I haven’t checked my roster, so I’m not sure if you’re a late add or just checking things out. But either way, I might be able to answer any questions you have better one-on-one instead of just looking at you across the room.”

Sasha watched the other students mingle and leave, a second of nervousness keeping her in her seat before the professor called out to her. It was hard to parse the tone in Professor Beck’s voice when Sasha’s immediate assumption at a teacher saying to “see me” was that she had fuck up somehow. But either way, Sasha walked towards the desk, dodging any curious looks from her exiting classmates.

“Um, hi. Sorry I didn’t mean to cause any trouble by sitting in.” She shifted the straps of her backpack, tugging them against her shoulders, as if the weight would somehow shield her from the awkwardness. “I’m Sasha Rodriguez. You gave me your office hours awhile ago. I uh, didn’t get a chance to visit but I saw your name on the winter session course list  and thought I’d check it out. I’m trying to branch out I guess.”

It took Morgan a few minutes to place the girl. She didn’t give out her school contact information to everyone, but it happened often enough that she had more than one name floating around her head. But the more she looked at her, the nervousness, the eagerness, the closer Morgan got to a hunch. “Oh, you’re the girl trying to figure everything out in college. I’m glad you decided to come by. If you’ve got some spare time, we can go somewhere and talk? I’d love to have you join in the spring, if you like what you’ve seen so far.” She dumped her books and laptop into her bag, and shouldered the load, handling the bulk with ease thanks to her strength. “Come on. Why don’t you start by telling me what you’re branching out from and what you thought about class today.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” Sasha said as she moved to follow the professor. She still wasn’t used to how casual some professors could be. In high school they made it sound like professors were all strict, no nonsense, and unforgiving. And Sasha had certainly had professors like that during her first semester. But here was a professor throwing candy to students and cursing in class and talking about fan fiction. It was cool, but weird to process.

“I’m in computer science and I’ve only really taken courses in that department and math stuff. Oh, and also English 101, for the gen ed.” Those classes had been a lot different from what Sasha had just sat in on. Even the one English class she took didn’t really match up, that one having been run by an exhausted looking graduate teaching assistant who didn’t seem all that interested in teaching.

“The class was cool, though I feel like a lot of the stuff you were saying went over my head.” Sasha had a moment of internal panic, worried that came off as implying Professor Beck was bad at teaching. “I’ve just never been good at looking into books, but the class was interesting. I was surprised you mentioned fanfiction at the end. I didn’t think most professors even knew what that was.” Oh no, did that sound rude too? Sasha closed her mouth before she could say something dumb. Besides her advisor, if you could even count their meetings as conversation, and Ben, Sasha hadn’t really spoken one on one with a professor before. It still felt a bit surreal.

“Oh, that’s just because you’re coming in at the tail end of the course. I don’t throw my students into the deep end before I’m certain they can at least, you know, doggie paddle.” Morgan smiled good naturedly and lead them up to the main sitting area in the English building, setting her bag down carefully and making herself comfortable. “I can tell you that looking into books isn’t so different from the way you look into the stories in other media. Movies, TV, video games, comic books--our relationship to the stories we engage with say so much about what we envision for ourselves and the world. The more we understand and invest that relationship, the more empowered we feel to take control of our fate.” Morgan stopped herself from saying anything more and laughed, low and self deprecating. “Oh, jeez, don’t tell the other professors I said that. But, anyways, yes, the aforementioned reasons are what fan-fiction and other forms of counter-storytelling are so important. But more important than that is doing something that’s going to challenge you in positive, enjoyable ways. And making time for a little fun.” Morgan held her fingers up, like this much. “Can I ask how the rest of college is going for you, Sasha?”

Sasha followed her and sat in the unfamiliar sitting room. She gave a small smile as Professor Beck talked about stories and how people related to them, finding that she had been nodding along without realizing. She stopped once she did, somehow worried that it came off as over eager, as if a professor would ever get mad at someone being interested in what they were saying. If only the professor knew how close that hit to home for her. All those stories of kids getting superpowers, it was real. As if it had jumped straight off the page. As if Sasha had willed it into being. In the back of her mind Sasha wondered how she would have reacted to suddenly growing calls if she hadn’t grown up on comics and superhero movies. It felt like the blueprint to everything now.

Lost in her own thoughts she was a bit startled when the professor’s tone shifted. “No, no I agree, I think. I think all that stuff is important. Storytelling. I mean, I’m not much of a reader but comics and games and movies have been really important to me.” She wished there was a major in that stuff. Or crime fighting. She’d be on the dean’s list if her nightly patrols counted for credits.

“It’s been going okay. I mean, I don’t really do much outside of classes. I’ve been trying to do more but I mostly keep to myself.” It was the same thing she had told her advisor and Professor Campbell, but more and more Sasha felt silly for saying it. It wasn’t like she did nothing, just nothing related to college life. But it wasn’t like she could tell her professors she was protecting White Crest. Or at least trying to.

Morgan noticed Sasha’s interest and perked up at once. “You know, we do cover films in my class,” she said, grinning slyly. “And books. But still. It’s the same kind of thought process as with books, so it might as well be given its time and place. There’s plenty of other courses like that in this department, even a film and media studies minor. You should do what makes you happy, because undergrad coursework doesn’t matter half as much as you think it does. It’s all internships and jobs and connections and recommendations that help you get anywhere. And this place, college, has a lot of flaws and problems, but one of the best ways to make it worth it is leave knowing as much as you can about the things that matter to you most.” But that was about all the pitching she was willing to do on behalf of her class. Besides, being a student at UMWC came second to being a kid in White Crest. Morgan couldn’t help but look at the girl and wonder what this place would do to her. Morgan pushed the thought away, she couldn’t let herself focus on a big, bad future like it was some kind of unstoppable force.

“This might sound silly, coming from a professor who just tried to recruit you to their class, but I hope you do find other things besides school studies. There’s a much bigger world out there, and you should have something else in your life. At least friends and playing video games or going to Al’s at one in the morning or whatever kids your age do now. Life is for doing stuff, you know? Whatever it is you’re thinking about doing or joining, you should go for it!”

“I never really thought about taking a minor. I didn’t know they had one about film.” Honestly, more and more Sasha felt like she hadn’t planned much of anything when it came to school. Or life in general. But she supposed she could change that. If anything this talk had made her actually interested in looking into classes, something she had mostly breezed through doing in the past, simply checking off the boxes of what she needed for her degree. But if the professor was right and it didn’t matter that much... “Maybe I’ll try looking into classes for film and english and stuff like that. They seem fun. At least the stuff you were talking about seems fun.”

Maybe it would make school more interesting, instead of something Sasha went through the motions of to get to her real job. “Real job,” as being a superhero paid. As if she wouldn’t one day need a day job. College was a convenient way to pass the time and something she was told she had to do, but it would be nice to actually care about it, to feel like she was actually doing something.

“I do have hobbies...” Just none she could tell Professor Beck about. “But yeah, I should probably try to do more. I wanted to check out the library. I was supposed to help out with the comic collection there as a volunteer thing. So that’s a start I guess.” It had almost slipped her mind, but that was something she had been genuinely excited for. It was just hard to remember stuff like that during the day when she was normally up all night. Her nightly patrols had turned her days sluggish and uneventful, filled with quick naps between class and maybe some video games alone in her dorm before she put on her costume and went out again. And she loved doing it, of course she loved going out at night to keep White Crest safe. But at the same time...

“Do you ever just get really focused on one thing?” Sasha asked the question before she was thought about it, but decided to keep going, even if it was dumb. “Like, you have something you like or is important and you just focus on that and everything else just kinda blurs into the background?”  Sasha rubbed nervously at the back of her neck. “I don’t know if that makes sense. I guess sometimes I feel like that. But I don’t know if I want to change it.”

“The library is a great start!” Morgan said. “You’re going to learn so much, and probably find people who have similar interests to you when they come to check out materials. But I hope you do other stuff, not for credit, just for you. You’re only going to be young once--” Hopefully.

She couldn’t help but smile at Sasha’s notion, that hyper-focus was something rare or embarrassing. “Oh, all the time. I have some art projects that I do on the side, and I can get so lost in my carving that hours can pass by so easily. Same with baking, or cooking something really involved. It’s almost like you’re connecting to something else, outside of or beyond you. There’s you, the thing you’re doing, and this energy it gives you, right?” Morgan watched the girl’s expression to see if she was getting it right. “Even if it’s just kind of like that, I don’t think you should change it. Whatever that thing is, it sounds to me like the universe is giving you the green light to keep going.”

Sasha nodded, giving a small smile. She was happy that Professor Beck seemed to get it and not think it was weird. Sure, Sasha's focus wasn’t on crafts or cooking, but it was the thought that counted. Her mind lingered on what she said about being given a green light. Really, what was a bigger green light than getting her powers? But she knew there was more to it than that. There had to be a reason it was her. She had to be able to do something with her powers, something to really help people. It was comforting to have the professor say she was right, that the universe wanted her to do what she was already doing, but there was a pang of melancholy knowing Sasha couldn’t tell her, or anyone, the truth. How much did advice and validation matter when the person saying it didn’t know the full truth?

She shook the thought from her head. “Thanks. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask you a bunch of weird questions when I came to sit in. I think it would be cool to try out one of your classes though if you still have room for students.” Sasha chased away the worry of struggling in a class she wasn’t used to. If worst came to worst she could always drop that class. At least it would be something new, something she might actually end up liking.

Beaming and unawares, Morgan took out a post-it from her bag and scribbled out the class information before handing it to Sasha. “Don’t be embarrassed about questions,” she said. “Questions are how we learn. You’re never going to find anything interesting if you always leave well enough alone.” She stood up, getting the vibe that Sasha had opened up all she felt like so far. “I hope to see a lot more of you this coming semester,” she said. “Hoping even more that you do something just for you, but.” She put a finger to her lips. That’ll just be our secret.

“Thanks. I’ll try to keep asking them.” Well that was one social interaction that didn’t go horribly. Wasn’t great that Sasha considered that a victory for herself but she was going to take the feeling of accomplishment anyways. “And I’ll try to do stuff for myself too.” That was going to take more work than just registering for a class, but maybe it wouldn’t be the worst. She couldn’t promise herself she would put in the effort though. Tucking the post-it note into her backpack she smiled and said goodbye to Professor Beck. Maybe a few new classes would be enough to make her college life, and her daily life, seem a bit more exciting and a bit less like time to just get through. But her patrolling White Crest at night was still more important. Professor Beck didn’t have to know that part though.

[long-bodyswap]

Yotta Life

(Im sorry I don’t have the credits, but if you know the author you can @)

It’s been an adjustment lately getting used to all this fame and attention since Adele’s new album came out.  The whole world knew it would be huge, but even the most optimistic among us couldn’t have imagined that it would have the best selling first week sales of any album in history!  With massive, iconic numbers like that, it was only natural that she would need more security while she goes on her whirlwind press promo, and I’m the best in the business- ermmm- I mean technically my host, Peter Van der Veen is the best in the business, but it’s not like anyone could tell the difference since the spell I used gave me access to all of his memories, training, and personality traits.  No one has suspected a thing, and I’ve been inside Peter since he was Lady Gaga’s bodyguard!Possessing the top bodyguard for the stars has been a dream come true because I’ve met and spent time with almost all of my idols.  Gaga is much more normal in private than people give her credit for, but my favorite client so far has been Adele, BY FAR.  Never have I ever met such a witty, sweet, funny as shit, monumentally talented, and down to earth person.  Rumor has it she used to be quite the drinker before she had her baby, but every now and then she’s whipped out a little reward for the road with her team, meaning I was naturally drawn into the fun.  IIt’s been simply remarkable getting to know Adele and honestly consider her a friend.  She’s so honest and personable that I catch myself shifting out of Peter’s stern persona, dropping sass and giggling to her jokes.  I remind myself often that it’s only acceptable around Adele, but anyone who had previously known Peter would be immensely suspicious.  Still, it’s been the single most meaningful (and lucrative) gig I’ve ever done. You can see that I try my hardest to remain stern and serious.  It’s so hard because even her commentary during casual conversation is adorable and hilarious enough to make a stone gargoyle let out a good chuckle.  Sometimes it honestly is too much and I can’t help but smile and join in the silliness.  It’s comforting at least to know that Peter’s smile looks so fucking sexy- almost as sexy as his stern smolder.  

The bulk of the promo circuit ended in December so now that it’s January 2016, I finally have some time to myself.  Adele thanked me profusely for my service and friendship and begged me to free up my schedule so I could join her when her tour starts in April.  I promised her I’d lock in the dates, but it’s going to be nice to have some time to have fun behind closed doors…At the very least it’ll be nice to show off this body.Fuck, what a great day.  I’m rocking this perfect bronze and I can finally show off this sculpted body.  I work ridiculously hard to keep it up to Peter’s standards, but it’s so worth it.  Peter’s body looks sexy as hell in a suit, but it was meant to be seen and envied by others.  And the Adele gig was so lucrative that I’m set to be enjoying the next four months shirtless and glistening at this Mexican resort.  I used this morning to do a power workout of sprints and chest interval training in a nearby canyon, and then I rewarded myself with a nice afternoon spent relaxing at the beach.Peter’s sore muscles always made me horny for some reason, which meant that I was on edge almost all day every day…I didn’t mind though.  It reminded me of how powerful and full of my vitality my host was.  What I did mind though was burning in this hot sun.   Noticing a cute boy eyeing me, I saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.  The adorable fucker looked about my real age, but way better looking, not that that mattered since I was inhabiting Mr. Europe 2005.  Being bisexual, I’ve been able to use Peter’s body to anonymously fuck around with hotties from all over the world, but I’ve gotta say I’ve developed a strong preference for boys, so let’s test the waters and see if this kid wants a taste of the premier bodyguard to the stars.“Hey, kid.” I said in a deep, yet friendly tone.  “You got a sec to help me out with something?”  I made sure to flash him a subtle smile, also pulling my shades down so he could see the twinkle in my beautiful eyes.   It only took me a second to realize I had him hook, line, and sinker.That big smile was one thing, but I had also completely stopped him in his tracks.  He was walking back over to me without a single hesitation. “What can I do for you?” The chap asked with a friendly tone that was masking what I, after maaaanyy similar encounters, knew was lust.“You see, I’m going to start burning soon, so could you help me with a fresh layer of sunblock?”He kept his jaw from dropping, but I knew he was shocked and ecstatic.   “You mean, on your back?” He asked, treading cautiously.“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with the whole thing,” I said, pointing out my sculpted chest and abs before biting my lip in a fake show of nervous anticipation.  

The boy paused to think for a second before smiling again and walking over.  “Sure, I’d love to help out,” he said in a  way that tried to make it sound like he was just doing a normal favor for a stranger.  

I grinned in relief before putting my shades back on and getting out my tube of sunblock.  I laid down, making sure to get comfortable before I took a second to adjust my junk since I was about a quarter hard from the sheer testosterone pumping through my veins.  

“Sorry about that,” I said before getting relaxed again.  “Had a brutal workout this morning.  Always gets the testosterone flowing, if you know what I mean.”“I could tell you had a good workout this morning.  You’ve got the pumped look.  Maybe you can share some workout tips- I’m trying to bulk up, but it’s been kinda hard.”“Son, you don’t need to add a single pound of mass.  The lean look is really sexy on you.”  I said that right as he popped the cap open, making him blush before he squeezed a healthy helping of that cream into his hands.  

“That’s easy for you to say,” he said before slathering that cream on my abs.  I shivered and gasped from the cold, tightening my core from the surprise, but he kept talking.  “Especially when you have a body like this.”As far as I could tell, he had no idea who I was, so it was safe to see if I could push his buttons a little.As he spread the cream over Peter’s ripped abs, I quietly moaned from the feeling of those smooth fingers rubbing that coconut scented goodness into my stolen skin.  The look on this boy’s face was one of inner conflict.  He didn’t know if he should go a little further, but he finally got my subtle hint and began rubbing me more purposefully until he was giving my abs a slow and deep massage.  

“You have…so much definition,” he marveled as he worked his strong fingers more and more expertly.   “mmmmmmm that feels so good, kid.  Guess you could tell that yesterday was ab day,”  By this point his constant touch had me more than half hard.  He definitely noticed my long and thick cock growing in my shorts, but he didn’t back away.  He started massaging me even more purposefully, sensually even.  Damn, this kid had some kink in him.  

“And I’d bet money you did a chest day today,” he said slowly and smoothly as he began working his magical hands up to my muscular slabs of pec perfection.  I moaned louder this time as he worked his hands up to my chest so he was grabbing a pec with each hand, squeezing firmly enough to loosen up those stiff muscles.  He squeezed harder, massaging my sore chest and making me groan in a mix of ecstasy and agony.  I was shocked though as he, without stopping his deep tissue chest massage, began to gently flick and rub my nipples with his thumbs.  I inhaled deeply, feeling my cock twitch and continue to engorge as this boy worked Peter’s incredibly sensitive nipples.  My breathing picked up, getting slightly faster before this kid made his big move.  I gasped loudly as he leaned down and began sucking on one of my nipples before reaching the other hand down to rub my cock through my shorts, making it pulsate and swell to full hardness.  

“Unnnngggg,” I groaned as I looked down at this cutie with thick, bushy eyebrows give in to his hunger for cock, specifically my cock.  I gasped again as he gripped my cock through the shorts, feeling the thickness of my girth and the obvious length before smiling, apparently satisfied with Peter’s thick 8.5 inches.   “If you wanted me, you should have just said so,” he whispered seductively into my ear.  

I knocked the big tube of sunscreen onto the sand before grabbing him and pulling him on top of my powerful chest, enjoying the weight of his body against my greased up chest.  I brought my mouth to his and he eagerly opened as I locked our lips and brought our tongues into a dance of lust.  Fuck, he tasted so minty.  My rock hard cock pulsated as I humped my crotch up against his, feeling his hard dick rub back against mine as I let us get lost in the lust.   FInally breaking the kiss, I told him, “I have a room,” barely having the breath to make the sentence.  He just smiled before we made a mad dash to pick up our shit and cover our raging hard ons as we ran back to the hotel.   I woke up the next morning alone int he bed except for a little note that had a phone number and the name Zac.  Man, last night was crazy.  I mean, I’ve done some kinky shit with Peter’s body, but I think I blew four of Peter’s loads into that boy last night.  Yeah, there was the load when I was fucking him doggy style.  Then another when I was fucking him missionary.  The third one was when he was riding me.  mmmmm, the last one was my favorite.  I pinned that kid against the wall with my strong arms and bounced him up and down off my powerful thrusts until I finally blew that last load so deep inside him.  On that one things got so intense.  Zac was hollering and almost hyperventilating my cock made him feel so good.  He didn’t even touch his dick that time since he was scratching at the wall the whole time, but his cock still blew a load all over the two of us.  That was about when I hit my limit.  I remember roaring so loud I thought the walls were vibrating before finally, dripping in sweat and muscles and veins bulging all over my body, I blew all of the remaining cum in Peter’s balls so deep into that boy.  When I calmed down, I carried the boy back to the bed and we both laid there making out and squirming from the afterglow of our orgasms before passing out from our multi-hour fuckfest.  

I smirked as I thought to myself how this would be my life for the next four months.  I got up and walked over to mirror, admiring my boxer-clad vessel, still just as high off of the beauty of this stolen body as I was two years ago when I first took Peter over.  

“You’re one sexy man,” I said to the reflection before winking.  God damn, seeing Peter’s body respond to my actions was still so satisfying.  I felt a fluttery sensation deep in my gut before blushing from the sight of the sexy body in front of me.  Mmmmmm yeah, Peter might be a strong and tough man, but I can always make him do whatever I want because he’s powerless with me inside.  

“Don’t ever forget that you’re too weak to resist me.  You couldn’t do a thing to stop my soul from slipping inside you and stealing you,” I taunted his reflection as I leaned his head down to his pit and huffed in his manly sweat and stench from yesterday’s workout and fuckfest.  

“You smell like a real man,” I said with appreciation before I stripped off the boxers and brought them up to my face which instantly scrunched up into one of ecstasy, huffing in the crotch area, almost coughing from the power of the manly muskiness.  It was so fucking masculine and sexy, and it always got me hard.“That turns you on doesn’t it, you kinky queer?” I asked his reflection before I brought my lips to the mirror and pretended to make out with Peter.  My heart sank though as the cold glass reminded me that I was on the other side.  Sure, I could take over some other stud for a night and use my powers to mind control Peter into having a wild night of passion, but it takes me a lot of time to build up the energy to switch, so I only like to switch sparingly.  I need at least three months to build up the necessary energy, so I don’t use the gift for casual flings.  No.  It’s a commitment, so the stolen life has to be perfect.  I stayed in Peter for the last two years because life has been so perfect, but it would be nice to finally feel and taste his body from the other side…Still, I’d need to find the perfect body and life in the next week or two in order to have enough time to get back inside Peter in time for Adele’s tour.  I guess I’ll just have to wait until after the tour…My frustration built, and I decided to take it out on Peter.  Even though I knew he was blacked out, I liked to pretend he was aware of everything when I got mad.  Grabbing his semi-hard cock, I pumped it until I got it back up to full hardness, watching myself make angry, yet sexy and turned on faces in the mirror as I pumped myself mercilessly.  

“Yeah!  You like that you queer slut?!  I’m gonna make you eat every drop of this cum!  unnnnngggggggg it’s gonna taste so fucking good, you fag!  Who’s the tough guy now, you freaky fag?  Can’t believe a tough guy like you is gonna eat your own load like some queer cum whore!”  God, this always made me feel so turned on and so much better.  I was getting close to orgasm when the phone rang.  I instantly clicked ignore, but it started ringing again.  I growled as I clicked ignore a second time, but the damn phone rang a third time.  Cursing, I let go of Peter’s cock and switched to his professional voice as I answered the phone.  

Even though I was initially annoyed, I was so glad I picked up the phone.  Smiling from ear to ear, I listened to a very special new client ask for my services over the next three and a half months.  Apparently he needed extra security for his wife, so tomorrow I would be on an early morning flight to Beverly Hills.  My vacation wasn’t over, it was just moving to another locale…and I’d finally have the chance to taste Peter’s lips and mouth from another perspective.Fuck, I was so excited I went back to pumping Peter’s cock.  I ate his load, this time to celebrate!  Now it’s time for me to get cleaned up, buy tickets, and pack!It was so lucky to get that call from Bastian Gillmeier, or Bastian Yotta as the media and instagram know him.   couldn’t help but enjoy one more early morning walk in Peter’s body, happily flaunting his muscles as I left shirtless and enjoyed the feeling of the breeze on his skin.  But then I checked his watched and realized how late I was.  

“Shit!  Better get back and shower.  Gotta get to the airport.  Damn, I won’t even have time to yank out one last load!”   I quickly cleaned up and called for a cab, and before I knew it I had checked in and boarded my plane en route to Beverly Hills.  Still, I was frustrated by this libido and the desire, no, the NEED to feel Peter’s cock be relieved one last time.  It was one of those rare flights where it was barely at half capacity, and somehow I was the only one in the first class section.  This airline was my favorite too because instead of thin curtains separating first class from economy, there were actual doors, affording me a much greater sense of privacy.  Still, I didn’t feel comfortable pumping a load out with that cute flight attendant around.  With me being the only client, he was checking on me practically every ten minutes, and I wanted to make this last.  I thought about going in the lavatory, but there was something so nasty and classless about that.  No.  I guess I’d need to test the sensibilities of this handsome flight attendant. Maybe he could even help me out.  

I looked behind me and predictably saw him waiting there with a puppy like grin, waiting to please me.   “Would you like another drink, sir?”I flashed him an enticing grin as I thought pensively.   “That does sound refreshing,” I remark as I subtly relax in my seat, getting more comfortable and spreading my legs just a little.   “Another barcardi and coke?”“I don’t know.  I’m craving something a little different.  I’m just so on edge.  I could really use something to help me unwind,” I say breathy as I rub my hands in between my thighs and groan lightly.   This boy gulps loudly, nervously adjusting his tie.  “W-w-well…We have mojitos.”“No…that’s not what I want…” I say with a husky tone as I look him directly in his eyes, licking my lips while I rub my host’s crotch, groaning slightly more loudly as I feel this meat starting to get hard and strain within the confines of its denim prison.  

“Sir!  This is inappropriate!  I’m going to need to ask you to-”“Shut up and touch it.  I know you want to.  Your cock can’t lie to me.   “SIR.  If you don’t stop I’m going to have to-HUH?!” he gasped as I grabbed a hold of his arm and yanked him close to me.He was speechless from the shock as I pulled him onto my lap, keeping him firmly locked in my grip thanks to Peter’s strong muscles as I went to work grinding my tented crotch against his backside and reaching my hand around to begin rubbing his engorging cock.   “MMMMmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhmmmmmnnngggggggg” he groaned through Peter’s big hand that was muffling his shouts.  

He squealed as I grabbed a firm hold around his rod, stroking and pumping him through his soft uniform pants, breathing hot on his neck as I whispered into his ear.   “You’re getting so horny, boy.  I can feel you getting hard in my hand.  mmmmmm a tasty boy like you is just the refreshment I needed.”  I followed by licking up and down his neck, making him gasp as shivers coursed their way up and down his spine.   “You liked that didn’t you?” I asked with a chuckle before experimenting and easing up my grip on his mouth.  

He took several deep breaths before slowly turning his head to face me.  It could have gone either way at this point as I saw the panic and indecision in his eyes.  But then the look in his eyes focused in and I knew he has made his decision.  

He lunged as he joined his mouth with mine, moaning loudly into my mouth as he wrestled his tongue past my lips and hungrily tasted me.  I needed to remind him who the big man was in this steamy moment, so I forced Peter’s tongue into this boy’s mouth, reveling in the pleasurable moans echoing into my mouth as I ferociously tasted my mile high slut.   Pulling back, he now had a look of hunger in his eyes.  “I-I’ve never done this before at work…”“It’s just the two of us in here.  No need to worry about anything.”He looked into my eyes briefly before biting his lip nervously.“Can I…taste it?” He asked with such anticipation in his eyes.   I just smirked at him.  “You think I’d say no to a hot mouth like yours?  Get to work, boy.”I closed my eyes, smiling with satisfaction as this boy crawled down onto his knees, no longer able to suppress his desire as he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper.  I lifted my butt up to help him as he pulled down my pants and drawers, letting this big fat cock spring out, slapping him lightly in the face as he gawked at my host’s unveiled meat.  

I shivered as he immediately went to work, grabbing me with one of his hands, pumping me softly as he wrapped his lips around the head, getting it nice and moist as he swirled his tongue around.  My fingers were trembling, and the sensation crashing through my cockhead, down to my groin and down my thighs was so powerful that I had to bite my lip and focus on gripping the armrests just to keep from shouting out.  This boy knew what he was doing, and he had just barely gotten started.  

I felt the veins on Peter’s muscles expand, letting an intense surge of blood-flow crash through every part of his body.  It was a euphoria like no other, and it only intensified as this mile high slut began bobbing his slick mouth up and down, up and down, picking up speed as he kept sucking that meat and swirling his tongue over all of Peter’s most sensitive spots.  I cringed and scrunched my face it felt so fucking good, but I didn’t want to make too much noise.  At this point though I think he was almost challenging me to give in and admit how good it felt.  He finally had his wish as he all of a sudden jolted his head down, swallowing every inch of my meat as he scooped both hands up my shirt and found my sensitive nipples.  

My eyes shot wide open as he began deepthroating me with ferocious speed, all while squeezing, twisting, and rubbing all over my massive pecs, and particularly, my tight and hard nipples.  My back arched violently as a loud groan finally escaped my lips.  I bit my lip though to shut myself up, scrunching my face up again and hyperventilating as this boy kept swallowing my entire length.  

I couldn’t have hoped for a better last orgasm in Peter’s body, but I still wanted it to be at least partially on my own terms.  Growling as I felt the testosterone levels in Peter’s body rising, I grabbed the boy’s head with both of my hand’s, getting no resistance from him as I began to pull him down onto my cock, harder and even faster than he was already going.  Mmmmmmm it felt so satisfying as I used Peter’s strong arms to pull that mouth and tight throat down onto his juicy meat.  Such a good throat fuck, but I couldn’t hold my hips back anymore, so it got even more intense.  I know I might have been going rough on the boy, but he wasn’t complaining as I started bucking my hips up, thrusting into his mouth and thrusting powerfully down his throat.  The boy kept squeezing my pecs and nipples, getting more intense as I added more and more power to my throat fuck.  My toes were curling in my shoes as I looked down at this hungry mile high slut, and seeing the desperation in his eyes finally sent me over the edge.  Groaning loudly, I slammed his mouth down onto one last powerful cock thrust after what had seemed like an eternity of building pressure in Peter’s massive balls.  With that thrust, my pent up load was finally free, releasing stream after stream directly down the hungry throat that was so expertly milking my cock.  I shivered as kept yanking his throat down onto each new ribbon of cum, milking out over a dozen shots before the stream finally slowed to mere droplets which we sucked straight out of me with that skilled mouth.  

Attention Passengers,  Please prepare for landing.  We will be arriving in approximately five minutes.  

“Damn, sorry boy.  I guess I don’t have time to return the favor.”He just smiled adoringly at me though.  “No, don’t be sorry.  That was-That was amazing!  I’ll be thinking about you and this later tonight.  This will be on my mind for the next month at the very least!”He gave me one more passionate kiss before he straightened his tie and uniform, giving me a sexy wink as he made the landing preparations, leaving me in my golden orgasmic bliss.  He was kind enough to point to my ankles though, reminding me my pants and boxers were still down, leaving my softening meat out for the world to see.  I quickly pulled my pants back up as we began the descent.  

I hopped in the cab at the airport, unable to contain my grin as I gave the driver the address of Bastian’s Beverly Hills mansion.  The cab driver wasn’t particularly talkative, so I sat in eager silence as I mentally prepared for my transfer and mini vacation from Peter’s body.  

The passing vistas and palm trees zoom by as I absentmindedly reach my hands underneath my shirt and begin rubbing and feeling Peter’s body.  I know I’ll be feeling this body from the other side, but I’ll miss the feeling of ownership and possession.  Something about feeling Peter Van der Veen’s abs and squeezing those massive pecs with his own strong hands was immensely satisfying.  Taking over strong men and making them my hosts…my vessels…will always be my drug of choice.  

“We’re here, Mister,” the taxi driver says, looking at me with an odd expression as I realize I’m still circling Peter’s hard nipples.  I swoop my hands out from under Peter’s shirt, unable to help but go a little red in the face as I awkwardly thank and pay the guy.  I pull out Peter’s wallet, so comfortable now seeing his ID and associating that image and identity as my own.  That’s when you know you’ve found a keeper, when you look at your host’s ID and instinctively think, “Damn, I look hella fine.” 

I tipped the guy well to mask the awkwardness and walked over to the front door, suitcases in tow.  There was a note on the front door telling me to come on in and meet my new employers in the back.  The note said to just keep on following the central corridor until I reached them.   Opening the door, I was blown away by the extravagance of this massive and modern mansion.  

“What a great place to vacation,” I said aloud to myself in shock as I plopped my bags on the marble floor, closed the door, and began the long walk down the central hallway.  I passed by massive living and entertaining rooms, all decked out with expensive art, impeccable decoration, and state of the art technology.  The kitchen and dining room was as large as most people’s whole apartments, and I think I walked passed a whole new set of entertainment and party/recreational rooms.  It was simply unbelievable, but I got pulled back to reality as I heard light moaning emanating from the last room at the end of the hall.  

The moaning was definitely deep, low, and masculine.  Judging by the videos I had watched during my research, I knew it was Bastian who was cooing and making those sweet sounds of pleasure.  I could hear him faintly egging on what I can only assume was his wife, Maria.  That accent was still distinctly German, and thought some people thought it was a little harsh, I shivered from its foreign and exotic appeal.  I had never taken over a foreigner before, so I wondered if I would have the joy of speaking with such a German flare.   I kept walking cautiously towards the moans, concerned that I was going to interrupt a particularly private and intimate moment.  Still, I advanced.  That’s one of the great things about Peter’s body.  I’m this massive tank of toned muscle, but he is so light on his feet.  I barely make a sound as I walk right up to the cracked door and slowly push it open as I walk inside.  

“Huh?” I asked aloud as I creaked the door open and saw Bastian, shirtless and laying down on a medical table as his wife performed a spa facial.  She was dressed and made up to the nth degree with her pink mini dress, pumps, and full make up while she massaged her husband’s face, working the active ingredients deep into his skin that would help maintain his youth.  He clearly found the experience very pleasurable as the sounds coming out of his mouth were almost orgasmic.  

“That must be you, Peter,” he said in his sweet German accent and without even opening his eyes.  

“We’re just finishing the last step,” Maria said with a smile as she spread the remaining moisture serum down his neck before clicking a button that brought the reclined medical table back up to a chair-like angle.  

Bastian finally opened his eyes as he smiled at me, happy to see that he had been able to afford my services.  My host was, after all, the most sought out bodyguard in Hollywood.  

“Maria, can you give us some time?  I need to show him the house and talk about the next three months.  Here’s some cash–go buy something pretty,” he said as he casually handed her a thick strap of hundred dollar bills.  She was almost giddy with joy as she collected the multi-thousand dollar wad of cash and left to go shop to her heart’s content at her favorite designer stores.   “Now, that frees up some time for just us guys,” he said with a cheeky grin as he got up off the table and put his shirt back on.  

This was going too perfectly.  I tried to suppress my own giddy grin as he began to show me around the house, when like he said, it was just us guys.

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

If requests are still open, May i request a Drabble to where Forsyth is having too much at it with the food in Alms convoy. (Especially during battle) That he soon ends up to a point where he can no longer support his terms of moving and having python sticking around to just rather tease and help him out. Thanks! ^^

War and everything that came with it was difficult enough, but with the Rigelians having collected so much of the Zofian people’s hard earned food for themselves, and the decline of the Kingdom’s lands on account of losing Mila’s protection, it was made even worse by the Deliverance’s lack of rations. It was rare that they didn’t have to limit what people took from the convoy, and more often than not, someone was set up to guard what little they had -- just in case.

Forsyth had served plenty of hours as a guard for the convoy; not just to safeguard their food, but their weapons and armor as well. If they didn’t protect their supplies, and one of their clashes with the Empire destroyed or otherwise lost them, the Deliverance would be dealt a final death blow. It was a job that he took seriously, even if he would have preferred to be on the field of battle with Sir Clive and Alm. There wasn’t much notoriety to be won from staying towards the rear to guard the supplies, but there was still a knightly honor to protecting the continued survival of his comrades in this way.

Python, of course, didn’t share the same views. Whenever it was his turn to play guard, Forsyth often caught him napping or simply not staying vigilant. And, when confronted about his lack of enthusiasm for the work, would blithely state that they had never had their supplies targeted -- and why would they, when they had so little?

It was aggravating, but it wasn’t really anything new. Forsyth was happy to jump to Clive’s or Alm’s orders, and Python was...less so. It hardly mattered, if it came down to him covering for his old friend’s shifts on guard, he would do so for the good of the Deliverance!

It was easy enough at first. Forsyth was determined to show his strengths -- be it in battle, or elsewhere. He patrolled and frequently double checked their supplies, he even maintained the weaponry and armor that they had in reserves when he had the time. It kept him busy and on task for quite a while, but, eventually, the boredom started to get to him. And, what made the boredom worse, was the gnawing hunger that came with being stuck with an unreliable food source and being forced to remain by that food but unable to have any of it. It took a great deal of his willpower to keep himself on task.

However, one day, Forsyth caved -- much to his great shame.

It hadn’t been much, truthfully. Just a bit of dry bread to fill his achingly empty stomach. It had felt good in the moment -- it had been tough to swallow down on its own, just a step above stale, but a drizzling of honey had made it easier to wolf down. Despite it only being a mouthful or two, it felt like the bread took up so much space in his belly -- of course, some of this was due to a lack of regular eating, but also the building guilt of taking something that had not been rationed out to him. It didn’t take long, Forsyth stewing in his guilt for several hours as he stood guard, for him to think of a way to replace what he had taken. A hunter he was not, but he’d read in a book somewhere about trapping techniques, and vowed to teach himself this skill in order to pay back what he had unrightfully taken.

It took him over a week, but he managed to catch himself a rabbit to add to the stock of food they had. It had been scrawny, but it was something all the same. He hadn’t really thought of keeping up the habit of trapping; it was hard to set up and check them when they were on the move, and with the odd changes in the land, there weren’t as many animals around to easily hunt. But, it seemed that someone else had taken notice of what he had done, as when he went to tally up everything one evening, there were some additions. A couple of fruit, a few small birds. It was small things, things found as they marched on from place to place. Still, it was odd, but Forsyth kept it to himself in case him bringing it up to anyone else might scare the mysterious procurer off.

It was more important that they have more supplies than it was to go off trumpeting about this anyway.

And if he swiped one of the fruits, popping it into his mouth easily, it was also not spoken of.

Things went on as such. Every week or so, Forsyth would find more and more getting added to their stores of food -- most notably when he was scheduled to be on guard duty. Whoever was behind this had an obvious motive of getting his attention. Upon first realizing this, he stubbornly avoided any of the food. But, it was hard to avoid the temptation forever when it was right there, begging to be taken and practically gift wrapped just for him. He fought off the urge to sneak food for as long as he could, but once again, the bite of hunger had him nicking some of the smaller morsels that he could quickly and cleanly gobble down without much fear of their disappearance being noticed.

This was, of course, a slippery slope. One or two small things turned into half of something a bit bigger, and then all of that slightly bigger thing, which evolved into him simply taking whatever additional and non-reported food items suddenly appeared when he checked.

It was a guilty pleasure in every sense of the phrase. Guilt for taking more than his fair share, but pleasure from how the food tasted and filled up his growling stomach. And it didn’t take long for that temporary full stomach to start developing into something more…

While Forsyth had never been incredibly muscular, he also hadn’t been scrawny either. However, this very middle of the road physique made it very obvious that all the extra food he was getting into wasn’t being worked off.

His face had filled out a little bit, the hint of a double chin coming in. His shoulders had rounded with soft pudge that lead into pillowy arms, the soft flesh of his upper arms squishing out of his short-sleeved tunic like overstuffed sausages from their stressed casings. His chest had softened and plumped up significantly, giving Forsyth embarrassingly hand-overfilling moobs that would peak out the edges of his breastplate -- at least, back when he could still get his fitted armor on. While he wasn’t as heavily armored as some, his climbing weight made it near impossible to wear most of it regardless. 

Even without his growing chest taking up space, Forsyth’s belly had gone from lean to something quite tremendous. The more food he snuck away into his stomach, the more fat accumulated on his middle and the hungrier he got; an endless cycle of stuffing himself with the growing amount of extra food in their supplies. This only caused his stomach to balloon further out as the days wore on. Where it had first started off as just a slight pooch to his middle, it quickly grew large enough to make it impossible to wear his breastplate and severely stressed his clothes, and it only kept growing from there. His gut was marred with angry red marks from his burgeoning growth, his belly button deep enough to sink your fingers in to the knuckle; its sheer mass swayed in a chaotic rhythm whenever he lumbered about, meaty slaps sounding from his underbelly as it smacked against his thighs.

The one thing he could be somewhat thankful for was that his lower half hadn’t been hit too hard by his gorging. While his ass had certainly bumped up in size, it wasn’t anywhere near as noticeable as his middle or even his tits. His thighs were chunky and they brushed up against each other whenever he moved, but their malleable bulk didn’t get too much in the way.

Really, the big problem was simply how heavy he was, and how utterly out of shape he’d managed to become. It was a complete shame, and Forsyth couldn’t even be bothered to hide his embarrassment as he’d practically eaten himself clear out of his dream to become a knight on the same level as Sir Clive. He still did what he could to aid the Deliverance on the battlefield, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He’d huff and puff at the back of their forces, rarely if ever managing to take out any of the enemy, but still plodding along as best he could for what little was left of his honor and pride.

Honestly, the worst of trying to fight at his size came when he simply hit his limit of endurance, his weight dragging him down to the dusty earth with a gasp and a wheeze. Coming to his aid had been none other than Python, his aim true as ever as he shot the Empire soldier who had been looking to capitalize on Forsyth’s collapse.

“Hey there, big fella, need some cover?” Python drawled as he idly checked to make sure the soldier was down for good, tacking on a slightly snide, “A whole lotta cover, nowadays, huh?”

Forsyth would have argued with him, but he was out of breath and awfully hungry; they’d been marching for some time before this skirmish even broke out, and he’d not had time to fill up on his usual breakfast staples. “Spare me your attitude, Python,” he huffed out, leaning back in order to suck in larger breaths and not feel like his gut was crushing his lungs as he did so.

Python merely gave him a smarmy sort of look, posture lazy as he surveyed the battle pushing on without them.

“Y’know, they probably wouldn’t even notice if the two of us went back to camp. I’ve done...most of my share of the work out here, and you sure seem like you need to sit your fluffy self down and have a rest,” the bowman continued, already sauntering around his porcine friend’s side to shove at his -- soft, plush, squishy -- back like he was some sort of farm animal in need of a little motivation to get up and moving.

Forsyth was beside himself with how that fact wasn’t too far off now.

“We cannot just leave our comrades on their own--” he began to chide irately, grunting and making all sorts of ungodly sounds as he struggled his way back to his aching feet with Python’s less than helpful help. Forsyth was sure the man had prompted all this just in order to watch him flounder about like a ridiculously fat fish out of water.

“Ah, don’t worry about them. They’re totally fine without us,” Python hummed, rummaging around for a quick moment in order to produce something he’d been saving for just the right moment -- which this seemed to be. A sweet, sugar dusted berry tart that he’d haggled for in the last town over. He carefully waved the treat in Forsyth’s face, watching amusement as the green clad man almost started to drool at the mere sight of the little sweetie.

Check and mate. He could spend the rest of the time watching Forsyth stuff his chubby face and not do a lick of work back at base camp while the others cleaned up on the battlefield.

A real win-win in Python’s opinion.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Hitch

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 17 | Part 18 Hitch | Part 19 >

Disclaimer: sad fluff, some body insecurities

Author’s note: Can you tell it’s Monday? It’s Monday. Gosh I feel like I need a hug after writing this. 😭

Word count: 1.764

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

Do you ever look in the mirror, just to study the way you are slowly changing? I don’t want to say older. Just, changing. My eyes are practically always the same shade of brown, like milk chocolate, and my hair is often an equally chocolaty mess, pulled up in a bun. And I like it like that, too. 

And then there is my skin. Sometimes pale like porcelain, sometimes sun kissed with a hundred small freckles, dusted over my cheeks and nose. I don’t understand why people wouldn’t like their freckles by the way. I absolutely love mine. Unfortunately now that winter has come, I mostly look tired. Thank heavens for concealer!

I wonder by the way if men also look at themselves in the mirror like that. Especially since it’s generally far less accepted and normalised for them to wear make-up, even if it is just a simple concealer.

Anyways. It’s winter and I look like a walking, talking zombie, my once fresh looking skin now showing some mean little creases and fine lines. Admittedly, I do sometimes rub my skin with a little bit of extra cream when I see those lines. Not that I am willing to invest in those luxury treatments or get my panties in a twist, but still. It does, in some way or form, influence the way you feel about yourself.

I embrace change, but today? I am most definitely wearing make-up. Thank you very much.

Done-with-winter-already,

Ali

With the loudest of sighs I flung the refrigerator door closed, my shoulders slumping visibly as I plopped down on my chair at the dinner table, dinner long cleared away from the table but my parents still sitting there. 

My mom was the first to pick up on my sulking mood, her careful eyebrow raising up over her reading glasses as she put down her Swedish crossword, pen still in hand.

‘Looking for something?’ She asked casually.

‘No.’ I grumbled, looking over at dad who was still hiding himself behind a folded open newspaper. Mom sniffled and shook her head. ‘Then what is it, Ali dear?’

‘It’s just…’ My lip trembled - not even make-up could make me feel any better today. ‘..things are not working out like I want them to and..’ Sniff. ‘..it’s so frustrating.’

Slowly my dad lowered his newspaper. Usually it was my mom who dealt with any off-days on my end, which truly were sparingly. I didn’t really wish to share my troubles and thoughts with my parents too much, fearing they’d continue to see me as “their little girl”. I wasn’t a little girl for crying out loud. I was a grown woman of 37-years. I shouldn’t need my parents anymore, right?

‘Is this about eh..’ My dad started, squinting his eyes as if looking for any signs that I would go for his jugular right here and now. I didn’t. ‘..eh..Henry?’ He swallowed as I started to cry, shaking my head no.

Mom quickly moved aside her crossword and pen, reaching out her arms to smooth her warm palms over my shoulders. Even through the tight knit of my dark grey sweater I could feel the soothing calm of her touch. ‘What’s the matter baby? Tell us.’

‘UGH..it’s just.’ I sniffled and angrily wiped a few rogue tears away. ‘I..ugh..this feels so stupid. I just thought I had found a place of my own. I’ve been looking at some apartments..and..I thought I had found one. Ten minutes from here. Perfect. Finally. But..’ I furrowed my brows. ‘..I couldn’t get it. The owners chose someone else, despite me being first choice. I just got the news.’

Mom was quiet for a moment and dad swallowed harshly, the two of them deciding on how to go about it. I sniffled again and looked up. First at mom, then at dad, the both at them suddenly looking even older then I remembered them to be.

‘Oh..’ Mom finally exclaimed, seemingly relieved. ‘I thought it had to do with Henry. Woof! Thank god for that.’ She quickly pushed her chair closer to mine, wrapping a bony arm around my shoulder and pulling me in for a mom hug. ‘Come here.’ She hummed, squeezing me even tighter to her chest. ‘Hmmm! Well, you know you can stay here for as long as you want. We love having you here with us. Close to us. It gives our life a bit of…’ She leaned back and smiled, shrugging slightly. ‘..joie-de-vivre!’

I snickered, shaking my head in disbelief. ‘You could get a dog too, you know.’

‘Hahah oh we might, we might. We actually discussed it the other day. Would you like that, a dog?’ She asked at me, dad snuffing in amusement - either because he absolutely didn’t want a dog or because this whole shift of moods was amusing him.

Women.

‘That is yours to decide mom…dad.’ I gave him an exasperated look and he chuckled, quickly grabbing his newspaper again, hiding the cheeky grin that lingered on his lips.

‘But really, I am just glad that it’s not Henry. You and him are just such a fine couple together.’

‘Thanks mom.’ I smiled, wiping the last remains of my tears. I laughed. ‘I eh..actually confessed I love him the other day.’

‘OOOHHH.’ Mom near jumped with excitement and my dad quickly duck even further away behind his newspaper - he really felt uncomfortable with all this girl chat. Me and mom both grinned and before long we were deep in conversation about what had transpired between me and Henry the past few weeks. A talk that was long overdue honestly, because of course mom had HEARD  a gazillion things, but in her motherly role she had decided to wait for me to spill the beans.

Well. The beans were spilled. And I couldn’t be happier to hear how enthused and adoring my mom was about everything Henry concerned.

—

Henry carefully read the words on the screen of my phone, the both of us sitting on my parents couch, the rest of the house quiet as my parents were out. 

It was an e-mail I had received that afternoon. Bad news. Again. As if losing that house wasn’t enough, of course more shit had to happen. He slowly furrowed his brows as he licked his lips, scrolling back up - as if checking he didn’t miss anything in his careful read.

‘O..kay..’ He finally said slowly, sighing visibly. ‘Yea..’ I bit my lower lip and reached out for my phone, retrieving it from his hesitant fingers. ‘Are they even allowed to..’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘..make such a suggestion?’

‘I don’t know Hen. Ugh. What is it with this week?! I hate it. Two weeks ago it was all fine and now this? Please let it be over..’ I sulked, reopening the e-mail of the fertility clinic and giving it a once-over. Yep, there it was really in black and white; due to a rapidly growing waiting list they suggested that me and Henry would perhaps first check out “other means of fertilisation”, before enlisting for a sperm donor. Meaning, most probably and quite rudely; just forgo the condom and see where that takes you.

There went my plan B. My back-up plan. At least for another extra 6 months of extended waiting as they had simply pushed me back on the list now I had a “partner”. Could they do that? I don’t know, but it sure was a blow in the gut.

‘What would you do in this situation, Hen?’ I asked quietly, seeing him shift his weight to turn towards me. ‘Well, believe it or not. I think this is my situation too now.’ He swallowed and reached out for my hand, tentative fingertips stroking my palm.

‘True.’ I smiled with watery eyes.

We were after all a team now. Together. Boyfriend and girlfriend.

‘I eh..’ He shook his head. ‘Okay this is going to sound so stupid now, but I want to get it off my chest. Before I did the Durrell challenge, just really a few weeks before, I had a chat with a..’ He sighed. ‘..a woman who would wish to surrogate a ..-’

‘WHAT?!’ I sat up a bit and swatted his hand away.

‘No no..Ali. It..nothing happened. I just..’ He swallowed awkwardly. ‘I guess I just started my very own path in trying to become a father. It’s a thing that’s been on my mind for a long time now. I want it. Though it immediately became clear after that conversation with that woman that I could not do it like that.’ His eyes searched mine, hoping I would not hate him for it, understand him.

I sighed. ’Gosh..I thought you were going to say you had like a kid on the way and..-’

‘Ali.’ He grabbed my wrist and looked me even deeper in the eyes. ‘There is nobody else. There is no kid on the way. It’s just you and I.’ - ‘Okay.’ I quietly nodded and swam through the depths of his stormy blue eyes. I near drowned in them. 

‘So, you want to be a dad, hmm?’ A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it and Henry’s eyes instantly tracked it as it moved over my cold skin. With a tender finger he brushed it off, his lips curling in a sad smile. ‘Badly.’ He swallowed harshly.

He suddenly looked so fragile, like I could see right through those big bulking muscles and handsome features and see within, see the most deep and hidden away piece of Henry that I had ever gotten to see. 

With pensive blue eyes he was looking down, his hand re-interlocking with mine, his other hand now aimlessly hanging by his waist. He looked a bit forlorn, lost at the sea that I had found in his cerulean gaze.

The sea that was Henry. Sometimes calm and soothing, something strong and unbending. 

A sea that wanted what I wanted. Badly. 

Without words I crawled over to him, using whatever strength I had to pull him into my chest, his head resting in the crook of my neck and his breath slightly shallow. He was such a large man that it was hard to actually make him surrender and lean into me. Usually he was the one who was to protect and be strong. Now it was the other way around. Sighing harshly he finally gave in, his nose sniffing as his arms slowly folded around my waist.

‘All I learned is that I don’t want to do it alone.’ He finally gulped, softly.

I closed my eyes and let a hand roam over the soft material of his sand coloured cable knit sweater. Poor bear. My poor bear. I nodded.

‘Neither do I, Hen. Neither do I.’ I pushed my nose in his neck and whispered into his skin: ‘And I think you are going to be an absolutely great dad.’

He swallowed back a cry.

‘In fact I KNOW it is so.’ I smiled, pressing up a number of kisses on his skin until I reached his lips. ‘And all other things are just a hitch, a hiccup. What I really, really need.. is.. you. Let’s..let’s make this work.’ I sniffled. 

--

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[bainhardt]

#RibbonQuest2.0 - Part 3: Master Ball Rank or Bust

It’s kind of poetic, in a way. My very first meeting with Jin, and the beginning of our travels together, was commemorated with the chucking of a Master Ball - a guaranteed capture. It’s a one-of-a-kind ball typically reserved only for one-of-a-kind Pokemon (like Jin). When it comes to capturing Pokemon, the Master Ball stands above the rest as the symbol of infallibility, the promise of success overcoming any and all odds.

Well, we’re gonna need to channel that spirit in our latest challenge, because our success is anything but guaranteed: we have to take on the Master Ball rank in online rated battles for Pokemon Sword and Shield! Among our countless trials and triumphs spanning generations, Jin and I have never actually battled online against other real players. The World Ability Ribbon back in Platinum would’ve been our first foray, but the DS Wi-Fi connection had long been shut down in the time before our quest began.

Keeping with the theme of RibbonQuest2.0, this comes as an unexpected surprise. Jin, like all transfer Pokemon, is ineligible for rated battles; the standardized rules only permit Pokemon born and raised in the gen 8 games. Back when our time in Galar first started, I had never even planned on mentioning the Master Rank Ribbon, simply because we weren’t allowed to try and earn it!

But all of that changed with the release of the Isle of Armor DLC and patch version 1.2. By accepting the reset of your Pokemon’s move pool to only moves compliant with its gen 8 iteration, you’re allowed to mark your transfer Pokemon eligible for rated battles online! The icing on the cake is that Jin’s XD-exclusive purification move, Baton Pass (which I bent over backwards to keep even through all the Pokemon Contests), is now a TR which Farfetch’d can learn anytime. All’s well that ends well, I suppose.

It’s like getting your hand stamped at a concert, but with a side of forced amnesia.

With that, preparations were complete. There was nothing left to do but hop to it and get battling! The Master Ball Rank doesn’t earn itself, and if I’ve learned anything from our past, I think that means we’re going to need some help...

However, in the interest of cutting down on superfluous Ribbon Gang members like (sorry to single you out) Speedrun the Talonflame, I’ll only be honoring the final 5 actual contenders accompanying Jin when the ribbon is earned. Numerous grueling battles will be fought on the path to Master Ball tier and those stories will be lost to time, for only the best of the best deserve to call themselves part of Ribbon Gang 2.0.

I got boxfuls of second-stringers here, for real.

When first beginning in earnest with the July season, I mainly played Double battles, my preferred format for fun. I had a couple different teams, but never climbed any higher than Great Ball. Some teams of note included:

self-proc Weakness Policy Stamina Mudsdale with Skill Link support and Psych Up Stored Power follow up

Entrainment Plus Dedenne alongside special attackers with spread moves (coined the “fuck redirects” team)

a strange combo Sandstorm and Round team that was kind of an excuse to see if Refrigerate Aurorus could amount to anything

I was too committed to gimmicks, and at this time still hoped to reach the necessary heights using something built for fun at its core. I convinced myself that whenever I got around to really trying, it’d come together easily enough. In the past I’d do anything and everything to increase my chances of success, and I needed to return to this mentality moving forward.

After burn out from facing VGC competitive teams, several months of distraction with other games, and the arrival of 2021, I changed gears to test out Singles beginning in March. Despite having essentially zero experience with the format, I drafted two main teams during my Singles stint:

a Focus Energy Baton Pass team designed so every other Pokemon is then guaranteed crits with every attack

a Shedinja team with Pokemon like Ditto and Zoroark designed to help determine whether Shedinja can survive the opponents

Still sounds gimmicky, I know. I can’t help it. But a funny thing happened as I continued to chip away at this challenge: the Focus Pass crit team actually kind of... worked. Once you’re critting every attack, you start to notice just how many game mechanics critical hits outright invalidate. Intimidate? Your negative offensive stages are ignored. Bulk stacking opponents? Their positive defensive stages are ignored. Grimmsnarl and Lapras walling you out? Screens don’t apply against crits (although a Shell Armor Lapras did shut me down quite handily once). Honestly, the boosted damage almost feels like an afterthought.

Every team I played required considerable reworking as I’d progress, honing in on specific threats often encountered and dropping low-participation Pokemon who weren’t pulling their weight. There was even a rule set which allowed the use of extremely powerful Legendary Pokemon for a time (a very bad time). But all digression aside, allow me to introduce the team that would eventually carry me higher than ever, swiftly through Ultra Ball tier and directly into Master Ball. They are the new and final members of Ribbon Gang 2.0.

The ones on the left, I mean. This box is just more second-stringers.

First is Gepigop the Togekiss, sporting Super Luck as a core member of the original crit team. Spamming STAB Life Orb boosted Max Airstream is the Singles meta, after all. And he’s from my Y version, same as Speedrun!

Second is PkmnConquest the Kartana, probably the most consistent and useful member I picked up along the way. Give it a Scope Lens and it’ll BEAST BOOST its way to easy sweeps - just pray your opponent isn’t hiding any Fire types in the back...

It goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes Guillotine... the Weavile at number three. YUH. She was included as a direct response to the unending hordes of Cinderace and Zapdos I faced. Focus Sash and Counter helped her turn around so many unfavorable matchups, I can’t recommend it enough!

Bringing up fourth is 8008 8008 the Rhyperior. Need an idea of how broken Dynamax Zapdos’ bulk is? Rhyperior is the only Pokemon I found who can one shot it from full HP without needing to Dynamax in return... and even then, only using Rock Wrecker. Seriously.

In our final slot is AZKi the Espeon, because Hololive kept me company through many of my battle sessions, lol. After one too many Focus Passes were blocked by Taunt, I put an end to it with Magic Bounce. You remember that scene in The Incredibles where Syndrome’s robots were revised as they faced off against more and more heroes? She’s basically that.

By the time I was barely breaking into Ultra Ball tier, I found much greater success if I didn’t try to force the crit gimmick every time, but still had it if I wanted it on AZKi, the fourth in the succession of Focus Passers. Yes, after months spent honing my skills in battle, I finally learned that just bringing three Pokemon that can beat your opponent’s is the simplest way to a win. Incredible, I know. And win we did!

The final needed victory in Master Ball tier was secured by PkmnConquest, Guillotine, and 8008 8008, a trio I found myself locking in very frequently.

It’s... it’s beautiful.

With this Master Ball ribbon attached to my Master Ball Farfetch’d, we’ve finally brought our lengthy Galarian story to its conclusion. Having managed to snag this online-exclusive ribbon before these games lost popularity or network support, Jin is once again a tried and true Ribbon Master, and I’ve no unfinished business to worry about any longer.

Until it is time to take up your sword once more,

Rest easy, Jin.

POKEMON SWSH: COMPLETE!

[somethinglacking]

Within His Control

Summary: After learning the true Evol Kiro processed and experiencing the effect of it first hand, your mind comes up with more fun and lewd way to play with it. Of course, Kiro gets on board 100%

Rating: +18 Word count: 3292 Game: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice Warning: Spoilers for Chapter 14 Pairing: Kiro X Reader

Kiro explained his evol, and all it entailed to you. You listened carefully, asking questions when his explanation failed to be comprehensible for you — a lot of hacker jargon’ and a lot of rules of how the evol actually worked. You bit your lip, remembering when he ordered you to shut the door and lock it to keep everyone and anyone on the opposite side, including himself. Your eyes looked at him as you listened in wonder as the always cheerful man beside you smiled softly, and his thumb rubbed soothing, almost anxious circles into the back of your hand. You didn’t know if he was trying to calm you or himself. Possibly even both of you with his tiny action. You smiled, looking into the deep azure depths of his crystal eyes. 

“If you can control someone’s actions and mind like that then-”

“I swear that was the only time I used my ability on you! You have to believe me!” Kiro panicked his eyes wide begging for you to trust and believe him. 

You nodded as your leg bounced, and you fidgetted it. Kiro was frowning now at your anxious behaviour. You nodded to yourself, deciding to trust in the sincerity of his voice, and the way his brilliant blue hues pleaded with you. You looked at him, and he almost physically bulked as he prepared for your reaction to everything. You smiled at him, and the starlit relaxed a little and smiled back. His hand in yours tightened as he shifted a little, and a prolonged silence took over the room. You both focused on and collecting your thoughts before speaking further. 

You were the one to break the silence. “You know-” His eyes moved up towards your, his attention captured. You blushed and stared at the wall in front of you. “That could be really hot.” You mused, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding your thought pattern. “The mind control-” Your blush darkened. “Using it to control a partner during, uhhh, sex.” You whispered the last word like it was a complete taboo. You buried your face in your hands, and Kiro coughed as he choked on his own spit. Not that you could blame him, your attitude to his ability took a complete 360 turn. 

“Say what?” Kiro squawked, and you curled further into yourself. 

There was a heat collecting between your legs as you thought of the endless possibilities. Kiro’s eyes were so deep as they glazed over, staring at you clearly in thought. Your cheeks burned brightly with the forever blossoming blush. 

“You’re kind of naughty~” Kiro cooed, causing you to jerk your face towards him. He smiled brightly at you, a light pink dusting his own cheeks. “I never really thought of using my powers in a consensual way like that before.” The Idol mused. 

You huffed at his casual tone, never before had you both had a lewd conversation. Kiro looked at you and smiled with a wink. He doesn’t like playing fair apparently. “What exactly are you trying to get at?” You whispered, and his smile widened. 

“I guess if it were with you, I’d be willing to give it a shot.” He confessed so easily it made you choke on air. “What? Is it wrong for me to want to try out and be intimate with my precious miss chips?” 

“You don’t have to be so forward about it!” You defended yourself, and he laughed — a perfect melody of joy. 

“It isn’t like we haven’t had sex before~” He purred, shimming closer to you on the couch. His eyelids dropped just half a centimetre, but it was enough to make you want to fling your panties at him. “What are you doing acting so shy and cute for?” His voice took on a husk that had your body shivering in response. 

His lips ghosted yours, and you looked steadily into his endless blue eyes. “Thought you said you never used your evol for something like this before.” You whispered against his lips. 

Your hand cupped his jaw, and his gaze has you completely enamoured with him. Long digits caressed your cheek before making a home in your long locks. Kiro tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. “I haven’t. This is just regular old seduction, my treasure.” He cooed so perfectly before finally capturing your lips with his own. 

You already felt like you were lost under his complete will as his tongue slipped into our mouth, and both of your hands began to roam each other’s bodies. Slipping under fabric to feel the silky skin beneath. Your hands gripped Kiro’s shirt and helped you remove it, tossing it somewhere in his living room. After that, everything else you both wore followed. 

Soon enough, Kiro had you laid out comfortably against his sofa, his bare chest pressed against your own. You looked at each other through heavy lids, breath quickening.

"Are you sure?" Kiro whispered, kissing your nose as you took a moment to mull over what you were about to give your consent too. 

"Kiro~" You purred sweetly, caressing his face. He moved so his face was more level with your own. "I trust you." 

With those simple words leaving your lips, his eyes turned yellow, and the look of code and numbers found on a computer flashed within them. Your body froze beneath him, and you found yourself helplessly falling into the depths of his eyes. Free-falling and losing any will of your own. Only, unlike last time where this sensation confused and scared you, it thrilled you. It secured you. You smiled meekly, and Kiro smiled back before shushing you softly. His hands were caressing every inch of your naked body in a soothing movement. 

You gazed up at him, falling evermore into an abyss of his control. All rational thought left you, leaving you woven and bent to his mercy — nothing you could do as you slipped further under his spell, but trust. His lips moved, but you were nearly deaf to the buzzing as you free will slipped further and further out of your reach. 

“That’s it, baby, relax,” Kiro whispered directly into your ear. You shivered while whimpered needily. “I won’t hurt you, just breathe.” He cooed as you let yourself relax under his control. “You’re going to obey my every whim, your body will act on its own, but I promise to make you feel so good.” You smiled up at him, watching him closely with hazy vision. His weight felt good, pressing you against the mattress, secure and warm. 

At his mercy, your head lulled to the side against the pillow. His mouth met yours for a sensual kiss, one that set your nerves on fire, and made the fine hairs on your body raise. Tongue met and danced as you hummed in pleasure. Kiro groaned as the soft pets and rubs he was giving you before became rougher. The glided over your soft skin, exploring, teasing, soothing. When he gripped your breasts, you gasped and opened your eyes. You both adorned a lusty blush and heated blown eyes. Kiro’s large hands covered your modest bust, massaged, and teasing you pebbled nipples, pulling mewls of pleasure for you. 

“Cum.” He hissed, and your eyes widen as your body began to convulse under him. Your thighs shook as your cunt released and squeezed at nothing. A fire settled in your lower abdomen as you moaned out, and you twisted in pleasure. “That’s it, good girl.” His hands ran the length of your body, staying away from any pleasure points as your chest heaved, and your body began to relax once again beneath him. 

You felt dizzy having spontaneously orgasmed without any warning. You stared blankly up at the man before you, his golden eyes captivating you. “I honestly didn’t think you’d cum like that, without any simulation.” Kiro huffed, looking down at you with wonder. “I want to see what else I can make you do~” You groaned at his smile while beads of sweat rolled down your temple. 

Kiro shifted above you, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose. He gave you a sweet peck on the lips before journeying further. Just tongue ran up the column of your throat. His teeth lightly scraping on the descent. You crained your head, allowing him easier access to your pulse. Latching on to the sensitive spot below your ear, he let out a deep groan, one that sent thrills right to your leaking core. “Kiro.’ You breathed, and he lapped at the mark he just gifted to you.

His response was continuing to kiss down your body. You could feel your desire drying on the inside of your thighs as the man before you took his time kissing every single inch of you. His face buried itself between your breast as he kissed, licked, and sucked his way to one of their peaks. You cried out as his hot mouth captured a nipple and sucked and nursed. Your entire being was begging.

Kiro took his time lavishing each tit with his attention before bringing his decent once more. His mouth was impossibly hot as he left a trail of salve over your stomach where is tongue circled your belly button. 

Eventually, he made himself comfortable between your legs — his face level with your swollen sex. You covered your face feeling exposed and shy. "Look at me." His voice called, and without any will of your own, you obeyed. You peaked down naked form towards the man brushing his fingertips around your pussy, teasing you. "Don’t take your eyes off of me. Watch me pleasure you." Your pussy throbbed at the lewd demand as you followed his order.

Kiro brought his mouth to your slick mount, his wet muscle dipped between your lower lips, and he took his time licking and sucking them. You moaned, shifting as his tongue lapped and caressed your wet lips like a tender kiss. Kiro ran the flat of his tongue over the engorged bud at the apex of your pussy. Using the tip of his wet muscle to flicking a couple of times before gently wrapping his lips around your pleasure point. He sucked, beautiful and piercing yellow eyes watching you as your noises picked up. No matter how embarrassed you felt watching him ravish your most intimate part, your body wouldn’t let you shy away. You’re eyes kept glued to his, and pleasure shivered down your spine. You felt your face distorting with pleasure. Still sucking your clit gently, his tongue to rub tiny circles to the bundle of nerves. Hands explored the contours of your body, enjoying the feel of you under his fingertips. Noises picked up, and he halted his assault on you for a moment, releasing a shaky breath before running the tip of his tongue in and around every fold of your delicate flower, making you moan out in ecstasy.

Just as you were about to reach your peak, Kiro's voice boomed. "You're not allowed to cum." 

Kiro sucked harder, using his tongue to massage your swollen and needy slit as your body shook. His tongue rolling your bud, and a gush of your juices run down his face. No matter what he did or the pleasure that recoiled within your entire being, you couldn't fall over the edge to orgasm. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body went taut with need and pleasure. It hurt as you ached, and your back arched off the mattress completely as you sobbed with bliss. 

 His eyes drank in every moment as you sang for him so perfectly. Oh, he definitely wasn't done with you yet. After all, he was in complete control of you, not wanting to waste the time he had with you under his spell. He released your swollen bud and let his tongue lap at your juices, letting the tip slip into your quivering hole, and he groaned, tasting you. His cock was weeping for attention as precum rolled down his shaft from the head. 

Removing his mouth from your sex, Kiro shot you a beaming smile, as his fingers danced back down, pulling your body towards him. You relaxed, gasping for breath as your cunt pulsed, swollen, and red. Your eyes were glassy, fogged over from your sexual high at the effect of his evol. How beautiful and perfect; such a relaxed expression suited you. Slowly as Kiro nibbled the flesh on your inner thing, letting his fingers run the length of your sex before two made they're way home within your entrance. The starlit thrust in and out slowly, making a slight come hither motion watching your beautiful pained expression. Kiro would never get tired of pleasing you.

“Tell me it feels good. I command you.” His yellow irises locked with yours, and your consciousness faded even further. 

“Yeesss. Kiro, please. You feel so good, baby.” You nearly sobbed, unable to stop the pleading that left your lips and your embarrassing words. 

The celebrity smirked at you as he pressed his fingers up into a soft spongy patch within, and started a come here motion as he assaulted you. He buried his face once again into your sex, tongue lapping your clit with a sense of urgency. Kiro ordered you to scream, so your voice bouncing off the walls. You had no choice but to comply as intense, almost overwhelming pleasure assaulted your entire being. He ordered you to be unable to think of anything but the bliss you were in as intense waves of pleasure wrecked your body. Kiro looked up at your beautiful expression, wanting you to build up your release and edge you further.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I tell you.” His voice held authority that nearly sounded foreign to your ears. However, under his spell, your body held onto the edge of your orgasm, but never truly let you cross over into the abyss of pleasure this orgasm was threatening to be. Tears left your eyes as your greedy cunt pulsed and clinched against the fingers probing and fucking into you.

The most delicious torture.

Kiro hummed as he sucked your clit, as he added more presser to that spot. The starlit would smirk if his mouth wasn't already occupied and buried in your pulsing cunt. You made the most divine moans, curses that where gasped in pure ecstasy made his cock twitch, begging to replace his fingers. Unconsciously he rolled his hips using your leg to relieve the ache within his length. He needed to hurry you along. "I'm about finger fuck you, hard, and you're going to scream as you cum," Kiro ordered bring his tongue to lap your clit once more. He shifted, so his arm had room to move. Eyeing you, Kiro started to move his fingers at a punishing rate, pressing upward and making a come here motion as he did so.

Kiro watched you crumble, look absolutely wrecked over violent tremors of your orgasm. "Good girl." He cooed as you twisted and writhed beneath him, tears running freely down your cheeks. He helped you ride out the waves while planting a few final kisses to your pulsing cunt as he removed his finger. Kiro kissed every inch of flesh as he worked his way up to your body. You sobbed still twitching. He allowed his hands to explore in a comforting way. "You did well, my sweetest treasure." The starlit assured you softly before finally making it to your mouth, kissing you deeply.

“I’m going to enter you.” He spoke, and your pussy involuntarily moistened more and clenched around itself. “I’m going to count my thrusts, and on seven, you will orgasm without fail.” The lust that took your features at his words had him chuckling. “You’re adorable. Even this completely ruined state, you offer the cutest expression, my love.” 

Kiro kissed your nose as she shifted above you. Strong arms wrapped around your body as he laid his weight comfortably across your body. Snug and secure his knees, nudged you to widen your legs for him. You complied completely willing to give yourself over to him and pleasure. 

It was crazy how good his cock felt as it pushed into you. The way your walls stretched and fluttered around his girth, all the ways the length pressed into you. You moaned as your fingers gripped his biceps for leverage.

 “That’s one.” He grunted when finished plunging the entirety of his length within you. “Look at me, baby girl.” He whispered breathlessly. Your eyes locked with his, and he kissed you with every ounce of love he could muster. You sighed as he broke the kiss and rested his damp forehead against yours. 

Nearly withdrawing from your completely and harmonizing his moan with yours as he let every inch slip back in with motive. He breathed out “Two” You felt like crying at how absurdly swollen your spent pussy was, and how amazing it felt to be filled up after so long. “That’s it, baby.” Kiro purred as sweat dripped from his body and rolled down yours. You looked up at him with teary eyes as he repeated his action, only fasted, making you squawk as his balls slapped your ass. “Three.” 

He kissed you deeply, picking up his pace and making you squirm and buck against his length every time his thrust into you. Kiro grunted the numbers into your mouth. “Four, Five, ahh~ Six, ready baby?” You’re body tensed up, preparing for the magical word to leave his lips and send you falling once more into the pit of desire and pleasure. “Seven~.” 

With that, he thrust into you urgently, your body convulsed, and a low moan left from deep in your throat. You felt a gush of liquid leave your body as your nails dug into any skin they came into contact with. Your hips bucked into him, wishing for nothing more than to keep the pleasure frying your every nerve ending going. 

Kiro was all sweat and pants now, the occasional curse that passed his lips fell on deaf ears. His hips smacked into you as your pussy gripped and sucked his cock into the very end of your core. He was climbing as you descend from your high. Your pupils were blown, and your hair matted to the sides of your face. “Kiro~” You gasped, and he was done. His rhythm was offbeat as he pounded his throbbing length into you and spilled his seed eagerly within your depths with every twitch. 

“I release you.” He sighed, pulling out, feeling his seed leak from your quivering hole as he rested his spent body on yours. His face buried between your breasts, listening to your heavy breathing, and rapid heartbeat. Your fingers waved themselves into his sticky and wet blond locks, petting and combing comfortably. You both rested enjoying your blissed-out state and basked in the afterglow of your tryst. 

You stared at the ceiling as your body became your own again. Kiro nestled against your bosom, keeping you warm beneath him. Your body felt fizzy, and your mind dizzy. You remembered every single moment, every command, every orgasm. You leaned down and kissed the crown of his head, gaining the attention of a pair of very blue and dazzling eyes. Kiro gave you a heart wrenching honest boyish grin as his cheek rested on your naked breast. 

“You okay, miss chips?” Kiro asked, his eyes displaying his worry. You couldn’t help but huff a little giggle at the use of your strange pet name. 

“Never better.” You assured him, stroking his cheeks, and smiling as he kissed your inner wrist. Special Thank you to @alloveroliver​ / @alloveroliver-ash​ for proof reading And too @tofuoto​ for being my horny little cheerleader

[ograndebatata]

After The Storm

So... if I had to guess, this must be some sort of very absurd record. 

Explaining a bit better what I mean, I wrote this for the weekly challenge in the EoA Discord server, for the prompts ‘Future’ and ‘Dancing’.

Needless to say, it’s beyond late, and I honestly don’t know how well it meets either of those prompts. 

But I liked it enough to want to finish it and post it... so here it is.

I hope you like it. 

Note: Like the bulk of my Elena of Avalor fics, this one is set in my Tales of the Ever Realm AU. However, in this particular fic, I feel there isn’t anything glaringly incompatible with canon, so I think it can be read blind ‘fairly well’. Again, I tried my best to make it strong enough to stand on its own, but readers will tell me if I succeeded.

Note #2:  I don’t own the lyrics to the song ‘Once Upon a Dream’ used below. They belong to their respective creators, just as the Elena of Avalor main universe and any elements you recognize from it belong to their respective creators.

With this said, please check below the cut for the actual ficlet.

///    

After The Storm

In the Kingdom of Aravallia, February 19th, Year 9147 of the Ever Realm Calendar...

Trying to hold back the concerned frown that tugged at his face, Fiero strode fluidly through the beach’s wet sand, his tamborita thrust out before him as it sent an invisible magical ripple across the sand to clear a trail through the leaves and twigs and other bits of litter that had been blown across the sand by the previous night’s weather. Some might call him squeamish, but he wasn’t in the mood to keep flinching whenever he stepped on something sharp with bare feet, and the only other person around to see what he was doing wouldn’t think poorly of him if she saw him.

Which she didn’t. Because she wasn’t facing him. Like she had been about half an hour ago, Gracia was staring into the horizon as she stood by the water’s edge, her long black hair flowing in the wind, the pink wrap and yellow sundress she wore contrasting against her dark skin as they undulated around her,  the dress' hem swaying  around her legs and flapping against her tamborita, which she held in her left hand.

 From a distance, she’d seem alright to a casual observer. But Fiero had always been perceptive. Even two years ago, when he first met Gracia, he had been able to tell she was different from all other malvagos he had met. If he had seen her like this back then, he would have been able to tell how sad she was in the way her head hung slightly, in the edge of a slump to her shoulders. Now that he and Gracia had grown so close, had learned to read each other like written pages, she wouldn’t be able to trick him even if she wanted to, just like he knew he knew was true with him regarding her.

Of course, neither would try it by now. Even before they had come to an understanding, they had barely been able to treat each other like threats. Now that they had grown so close, neither would even consider trying anything underhanded towards the other.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Gracia’s shoulders briefly rose, then dropped again, her body shuddering in what seemed like a deep sigh. Again, Fiero’s face itched to shift into a concerned frown, joined by a weight in his chest and a shiver that washed over him as the wind briefly picked up, no doubt aided by the large cloud that kept blocking the sun, even though most of the others had cleared away to reveal a pristine morning sky. 

Perhaps leaving her alone while I made breakfast wasn't the best idea. He thought.

A slight pang sank into his heart at the thought. He had meant well when he did so - he’d only wanted to give her a warm meal to enjoy when she came back - but now that she had stayed outside for so long, not to mention wearing only a dress in this weather, he started to get worried. While he did want to respect the fact she might want to be alone, he also didn’t want to leave her in pain without trying to comfort her. He knew from personal experience that having no support when one was in pain was not pleasant. 

To put it mildly. He thought, the old scars from all the times that had happened to him briefly flaring up.

The breeze picked up around him, stronger, chillier, sending a second shiver through him before it settled down again. No doubt, his white t-shirt and light grey trousers weren’t the best outfit to shield him from this weather, especially with the latter pulled up to mid-calf. Gracia had to be feeling it even more, standing barefoot in the surf with the occasional wave washing over her feet and ankles, but she didn’t even flinch. Either she withstood it better than him, or she was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t even notice. 

Yes, she had her wrap over her dress, and could use her tamborita to cast a spell to warm herself if she needed, and even without it she was powerful and skilled enough to use her magic to do so. But still, he couldn't help but worry. 

Don't be like that. He told himself. She's an adult woman who's about as powerful a malvago as you. She can take care of herself.

His concern didn't fade. He knew that was all true, and he also knew he couldn't be consumed by worry all the time, but he couldn't just not worry to any degree, especially when he knew she was hurting.

The ground under his feet suddenly became even colder, an edge of actual wetness meeting his skin as he stepped onto the sand by the water's edge. He lowered his tamborita and retracted his magic; there was no litter to clear away here. The weight in his chest grew as he got a close look at Gracia, clutching her wrap to her with her right hand, the pain and sadness she emanated ever more visible, as if he was approaching a campfire. 

In a way, it was expected, for lack of a better term. Gracia was only human, and life hadn’t been kind to her recently. But it being expected didn’t make him feel better. The idea of her being in pain cut him up inside like a row of knives. Gracia had already been dealt far too much suffering; she didn’t need any more. 

And yet, life kept giving her further helpings of it. 

It’s not fair. Fiero thought, pain cutting through his heart as he finally got close enough to see her violet eyes, glistening with unshed tears. It’s just not fair.

The urge to rush over and wrap his arms around Gracia came over him. He pushed it back and stopped, then cleared his throat, careful to be loud enough to be heard over a distance. 

She started as if she was coming out of a trance, her tamborita swaying slightly with her movement.

“Fiero?” she asked as she turned to face him, showing him that, instead of the heavier makeup she wore with her malvaga outfit, she had chosen a more subdued look to go with the sundress. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up when I left?”

Before he could answer, she blinked, her eyes briefly widening. He guessed she had somehow noticed how much time had passed. So whether she’d noticed the chill or not, she had indeed been lost in her thoughts. 

The concerned frown pulled at his face yet again. Pushing it back, he smiled, closed the gap between them. 

“Don’t worry, you didn’t,” he reassured, running the backs of his fingers from her cheekbone to her chin. “And even if you had, you wouldn’t need to apologize,” he added as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

He said nothing else as he slid his hand away from her ear, cupping Gracia’s cheek. A hint of light returned to her eyes, her lips curling upwards as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. Then, she stepped closer to him, stretching up a bit. Mirroring her motion, Fiero leaned down, his lips meeting hers, their mouths lingering together before they drew apart.

Then, as he straightened himself, her nose scrunched up, her right eyebrow arching. 

The shift in expression working as well as a verbal question, Fiero explained. “Breakfast is ready.”

Her eyebrow arched another fraction, her nose scrunching up again. “What is it?” 

“Misto quente,” he replied, caressing her cheek again.  “Your favorite.” His need to be specific protesting in the back of his mind, he added, “It’s a bit different from the one made in Paraiso, but it's the best I could do with what’s sold in Aravallia.”

Her smile widened slightly. 

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

Despite her words, she made no move to walk back to their cottage, or any kind of move, other than letting her mouth fall back into a frown. 

The weight on his chest seeming to turn into a crack on his heart, Fiero moved his hand down and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. For a moment, her eyebrows knit together as if she was deciding what to do. Then magic flowed out of her right hand and into her wrap, two of its corners twistingly themselves together into a knot. Once the garment was secure around her shoulders, she switched her tamborita to her right hand and settled her left arm around his back. Wordlessly, Fiero drew her into him, her full figure settling against his lean profile as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

A wave washed over their feet. Fiero flinched in surprise, but no shiver came over him, the water somehow warmer than the air.

“If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen to every word,” he whispered into her hair.

Her left arm curled around his torso, her cheek shifting with her deepening frown, the change conveyed even through his t-shirt.

“Is there really anything I can say?” she murmured, snuggling her cheek into his shoulder.

He kissed her hair. “I understand if there isn't."

She curled her fingers more tightly over his side, a long exhale mixed with a pained whimper flowing from her. Again, Fiero kissed her hair. A softer, calmer sigh flowed from her, her form relaxing slightly against his’.

For a while, they stood in silence, the quietude broken only by the hushed murmurs of the breaking waves and the occasional caws of seabirds.

Then, Gracia found her voice.

“I suppose there really isn’t anything to say.” She took a breath, the sound telling Fiero she was either considering if there was anything to say after all or if she wanted to say it to begin with. “I just… I'm just still having trouble taking it all in. I’ve known my family was not very family-like for a long time, but that it has people who would go as far as they did…” She fell silent, her fingers loosening against him. “It's just... difficult to deal with.”

Fiero didn’t say anything. He simply kept his arm around Gracia’s shoulders.

“I admit that, in a sense, it shouldn’t be so shocking,” Gracia went on. “I’ve been a malvaga for over seventeen years. And I've met plenty of rotten people even before I was a malvaga. And I’ve seen my share of families who don’t act like families at all. And yet…”

She trailed off, briefly tensing up against him as if forcefully holding back the memories of the unpleasant discovery she had made. Fiero drew her even further into him, his other hand curling more tightly around his tamborita’s handle. 

“I’m sorry you got such a short end of the stick when it comes to family,” he breathed. “And that you learned what those four are like in the way you did.” 

Again, she curled her fingers over his side, her left hand running up and down his ribcage. “Don’t be. It’s better that I got to know. At least now I definitely won’t hold any illusions that things could have been different. Not with the four of them anyway.” She paused again, a shaky breath flowing out of her. “Still…”

Again, the words died in her mouth, her hand loosening again. Another wave washed over their feet, covering them up to their ankles. This time, it was followed by another stronger gust of chilly wind, the ambience around them darkening a fraction, as if the weather itself had decided to try and make them shiver. Neither of them blinked.

“You don’t need to explain,” Fiero soothed. He slid his hand from her shoulders and caressed up and down her back. “These things are always difficult to deal with. Especially when they happen to us personally.”

Again, Gracia didn’t give a verbal response, but the way she leaned against him, tired and drained while at the same time tense, spoke for her well enough. 

“I can’t help but be shocked also,” he went on. “I’ve been a malvago for almost thirty years, I ran into plenty of nasty bastards even when I was a wizard, and I got to see firsthand how charming your family is, even before everything happened. Still, to learn what those four wanted to do to you...” 

He cut himself off, an invisible foot suddenly kicking him. He’d gone more than far enough. 

“Point is, if I feel like this, I can only imagine how you feel,” he finished.

Another deep, tired sigh flowed out of Gracia’s mouth. Then, he felt her shifting against him as her cheek left his chest and her arm pulled away from him. Looking down, his green eyes met her violet ones, the crack in his heart growing at the sheer pain within them. 

“You know the worst part?” 

Fiero curled his eyebrow in a silent question. 

A briefer tired breath leaving her mouth, she replied, “On how I said it shouldn't be so shocking… In a way, it actually isn't shocking at all, considering what they have always been like. Looking back on it, the writing was always on the wall. I really should have known their natures from the beginning, rather than held any hopes about them.” 

Another sigh crawled out of her, slow and heavy as if she was trying to exhale wet clay. Pain flared up in his chest as if both halves of his heart were being pushed apart. A lump started to settle in the back of his throat. He gulped to force it back, curled his arm more tightly around Gracia as he kissed her hair again. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” he whispered. “ It’s not on you.” 

Her gaze shifted towards the sand at his words, self-reproach all too plain in her eyes. The pain in his own chest throbbed harder. A wave ran over their feet once more.

"Please, look at me,” Fiero begged, his voice thick from the effort he was making to keep it calm and soothing, rather than filled with all the anger he felt towards Gracia’s so-called family. 

Slowly, Gracia’s eyes turned up to his, pain roiling in their depths more intensely than ever before, just as the landscape around them seemed to grow darker once more, as if a thicker layer of cloud cover had just gotten before the sun. Carefully, Fiero brought his other hand up and, stretching his fingers as well as he could without losing his grip on his tamborita, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“It’s not on you,” he repeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You tried to follow their values as well as you could without compromising your own, you tried to step into their shoes time and again, you tried to give them the benefit of doubt multiple times, to believe there could be a sliver of kindness hidden deep within them, to help them when they needed even though they never showed a sliver of gratitude for, and yet all of them treated you like dirt.” 

A reminder flaring in the back of his mind, he added as he lowered his hand, “Well, almost all. But most of them treated you like dirt. And those four monsters actually started plotting to have you killed just so they’d get their hands on your money. And yet when their plot was discovered, they tried to beg for mercy by appealing to the fact they’re family!” 

He winced as he suddenly realized his voice had started to slip into a shout. He knew Gracia knew him well enough to understand he wasn’t angry at her, but he still didn’t want to further upset her by raising his voice.

Nevertheless, he seemed to have built up enough bile that he couldn’t avoid rolling his eyes and adding, “It’s beyond belief. They try to frame you for murder so you’ll be hanged and then say they’re family the moment they realize you found out their plot.” A sharp scoff blasted out of him. “Family, my…” Catching himself as he realized the word he was about to utter, he said instead, blood rushing to his cheeks, “Well, my that certain body part which is located on the side directly opposite to my front side, on the region right below my waist.” 

A bout of laughter bubbled out of Gracia, a happy glow blooming in her eyes. Though his cheeks kept blazing, Fiero smiled at the sound, feeling every muscle in his body loosening from it.  

“Are you sure your phrasing was verbose enough?” Gracia drawled once her laughter faded, her smooth contralto a fraction deeper and huskier than usual. “You might have been able to add two or three more sentences to that description.”

Unsure of what to say, Fiero could only shrug, though none of the defensiveness from his youth flared up within him. With Gracia, he always knew that when she teased him or poked fun at him, she did not mean to offend or hurt him.

“Well, what I said was specific enough already, I figure,” he said in an affected nonchalant tone, the red in his cheeks fading.

A mirthful spark in her eyes, her smirk shifted into a tender smile as she briefly curled her fingers around his side again, running a brief caress over his ribs. 

His voice calmer, Fiero went on, “Point is, they were just rotten, period. And they were beyond lucky that they not only lived to see another day but didn't even end up in prison. If they still want to be dirtbags rather than try to better themselves, it’s on them, not on you.”

Gracia’s smirk returned, though this time it didn’t reach her eyes. Knowing what was on her mind, he added, an edge of tension creeping into his voice, “Not those four in particular. 'Greedy heartless monsters' would be more appropriate for them. 'Dirtbags' is a label for your other relatives.” The same reminder from before flaring up again, he added, “Other than Esha and Anjali and Lavanya. And their husbands and children, as far as I can tell. But that still leaves literal dozens of people in your family who are…” 

This time, he was the one trailing off, his mind drawing a blank on a word good enough to refer to the kind of people most of Gracia’s relatives were. Still, her arm slipped down to his waist as her face fell. 

“I know.” 

The weight over his heart returning, Fiero pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. 

He knew he was repeating himself, but he meant what he said now as much as he did before.

He felt her face leaning away from his shoulder, though her arm moved up to rest over his ribs once more. He looked down; their gazes met again. 

“It's alright,” she replied. “You did nothing wrong either. You don't need to apologize.”

A long sigh washed out of him. He drew her back into him, as she let her head rest on his shoulder again.

"I only wish I could actually do something about this."

///

Hearing the sorrow in his voice, Gracia leaned up and put a kiss to Fiero's cheek, briefly pressing her hand to his side as she did so, feeling the breeze blowing over them both.

She knew he meant what he said, but she'd never dream of asking him to do more than he already did.

He looked out for her well being, he tried to help her to the best of his abilities, he listened to her when she wanted to talk, he always respected her boundaries, and he was there for her. 

That was all she could ask him to do.

She knew him wanting to do more for her meant that he cared, but she also knew that there were things he just could not do. All magic had its limits, and malvago magic in particular was very limited when it came to things unrelated to destruction. Having been a malvaga for as long as she had, Gracia knew that from personal experience. And even ignoring those limits, there were lines that no person with a sliver of decency and humanity crossed, and Fiero had much more than a sliver of either. 

It was more than she could say of many people she had met, including some who claimed to be paragons of virtue, only to turn out nastier than some fairy tale villains.

Like ‘those four’ as Fiero had labeled them. They claimed to walk the path of righteousness, to follow the values of old, and then they had tried to have her killed, and for such a mercenary reason to boot.

Not that any reason would have been good, but doing it only because they wanted her money to add it to their very much not-paltry fortune… It was just… it was just beyond low.

Don’t think about that anymore. An inner voice tried to insist. It’s not worth it. They're not worth it. 

A knot materializing in her chest at the thought, she took a deep breath, mentally pushing back the remains of the whirlwind within her as if the air she took in would do the job. Not thinking about them was easier said than done, especially after what they had done to her.

Having taken the deepest breath she could, she released, willing herself to let it out calm and slow, yet with purposefulness flowing through her. As the air rushed out of her, Fiero rubbed his shoulder over her wrap, pressing his lips to her hair once more, his embrace tightening a bit again.

‘It's alright.’ She read in his touch, even through the fabric. ‘Take all the time you need.’

Turning her head slightly upwards once more, she gave him another smile. The corners of his mouth curled upwards in response as he rubbed another circle over her shoulder.  

Her smile widening, she closed her eyes as she took another breath, slightly faster and shallower than the last, but still allowing the salty air to flow into her lungs, to mentally will what she could only call its ‘calming essence’ to flow through her being. Just as she let it out, the breeze around her softened, grew warmer, everything around them and their own bodies seeming to lighten a few shades, the sun finally peeking through the clouds. Another wave washed up the beach, moving past them until it rose past their ankles. Then, as it retreated, it seemed to take yet another bit of her inner turmoil with her, the knot in her chest softening further. 

A small sigh trickling out of her, Gracia nestled her head into Fiero’s shoulder, pressing her hand to his side once. Thinking about something else might be easier said than done, but it was better to do it than dwell on what those four had done just for the sake of it. And a good way to start thinking about something else was to start talking about something else.

Fortunately, while enjoying each other's company in silence was not a problem for them, finding things to talk about wasn't either.

Her gaze met his’ as she spoke up.

“Speaking of doing, is there anything you'd like to do once we get to Bansagubat? Other than following up on the lead we found on the Scepter of Night, I mean?” 

He blinked at her question, confusion flickering in his gaze. She knew without having to ask that he'd found her change of subject sudden. But she also knew that he'd go along with it as long as her attempt at not dwelling on the recent events didn't fail.

Sure enough, his brow furrowed into the focused look he often assumed when he was in deep thought, though he didn't bring up his left hand to hold its thumb and forefinger to his chin, due to the tamborita he held.

“I don't think so,” he replied after some time. “At least for now. I don't know enough about Bansagubat to have an idea of what to do there.” He cocked his head to the side, curling an eyebrow. “What about you, mi alma? Is there anything you'd like to do?"

He punctuated his second question with a knowing grin, telling her he'd guessed the basics of her answer. 

Gracia smirked in response. He did know her well...

“Indeed there is, mi amado,” she replied, her voice a fraction lower and slower again.

His knowing grin widened a fraction.

"Any chance I can know exactly what it is?"

Gracia started opening her mouth to reply, but the teasing tune she was mustering faded like a snuffed candle as she realized a few things. 

"I'd tell you if I knew, but I'm not sure yet myself. It will depend on how long we stay there, and on where we have to go to find our next clue, if it even exists to begin with."

Her eyes narrowed into a glare at the thought, Fiero's expression mirroring hers, both recalling how many fake clues on the Scepter of Night’s whereabouts there seemed to exist throughout the world.

“But there are quite a few dancing festivals in Bansagubat, at many places and at many times of the year," Gracia went on before her mind could start wandering down another bad path. "I’d like to be able to go to a few. Or then take a few classes on the local dances, if I find any. Maybe do both things, if we find the time.”

Her chest seemed to grow lighter as she went on, a familiar giddiness rushing through her at that line of thought. She had only been to Bansagubat once, and the stay had been too brief for her to do much of anything, but she had read about the kingdom, and, more relevantly to her tastes, about its dances. It was true that seeing drawings and reading descriptions on the written page didn’t compare to the real thing by any means, but the authors had been good enough that she could join the picture and the text to somewhat visualize what the real dances were like. And even if she hadn’t, she had always liked learning new dances, and Bansagubat had plenty that she wanted to learn.

A faint shift in Fiero’s face brought her back to reality - his knowing grin had become a fond one, no doubt at the view of the joy she felt bubbling within her and which she now realized had spilled over onto her features. 

That was one of the things she loved about him. While she knew he didn’t hate dancing per se, she also knew he wasn’t particularly fond of it. But he still wholeheartedly loved seeing her so happy doing something  she loved, and was genuinely happy to do it with her just because it made her happy. 

“I don’t see us staying at Bansagubat for less than several months,” he said. “I think we’ll find the time for that." He pursed his lips shut, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Or, if you’d rather I did so, I can also read up on Tolome’s treasure on my own while you have your dance classes and we read up on it together whenever you’re not in class or practicing.”

He winced right after he spoke, as if he thought he’d just put his foot in his mouth with his suggestion. Giving him a comforting smile, Gracia shifted around so that she now stood before him, her hand flowing from around his back to rest on his shoulder, on cue with another wave washing over their feet. The landscape seemed to grow a few more shades around them, though this time the breeze strengthened for a moment, as if unsure of whether to let up or intensify. 

“I get what you mean,” she told him. “And I don’t mind going to classes for some of those dances on my own. But we find classes for some others, I confess I was hoping you’d come with me.” Suddenly afraid of how her words might be taken, she added, “But I will accept if you don’t.” 

She punctuated her sentence with a calm smile to reinforce her words, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. She would indeed like it if Fiero went to classes for those specific dances with her, but she wouldn’t try to force him to if he really didn’t want to. Even before her time with her family, she knew how awful it was to be forced into things one didn’t want to do.

At first, Fiero’s forehead crinkled in puzzlement. Gracia knew without asking that he was wondering what kind of dances she might want him to go along on. But then, his warm smile returned as he raised his now free hand to rest it on her cheek, running a slow, tender caress over it.

“I’ll go with you,” he whispered. “Whatever the kind of dances you’re talking about, as long as you want me to go with you, I will.”

Gracia’s smile widened a bit further, her whole being suddenly lightening. It might be the kind of line too easily uttered, but again, she knew just from his tone and expression that Fiero was doing it willingly, because he knew it would make her happy. The fact he hadn’t even asked what dances she was talking about only reinforced it.

She snapped out of her thoughts as a hint of a scowl returned to Fiero’s face, as if something had just reminded him of an unpleasant memory. 

A frown replacing her smile, she asked, "What’s the matter?"

Putting his smile back in place, Fiero reached down and held her hand in his’, raising it up until it was level with their chests.

“Nothing serious,” he soothed. “Just a few bad memories of the last time I had dance classes.”

Gracia’s eyes opened a bit wider, a mix of amazement and realization pricking at her.

“So you did have dance classes…” Again reading a silent question in Fiero’s face, she explained, “I thought you had them from the first time I danced with you. You danced far too well to be a novice. But I confess it does seem a bit surprising.”

His own smile still in place, he briefly squeezed her hand more tightly. 

“I know. I didn’t ever think I’d have dance classes before I started them either. Dancing was never among my top-favorite activities until we started seeing one another.” Again wincing right after his sentence, he added, “Not that I ever hated it, but…”

He trailed off, unease creeping up into his eyes. Smiling again, Gracia rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. 

“I understand. I liked learning magic well enough when I was younger, but I didn’t throw myself into it until I became a malvaga.” Feeling the shadow of more unpleasant memories starting to creep over her, she went on before they could settle in. “Though now I’m curious on why you had dance classes if you didn’t particularly like dancing.” 

Fiero’s shoulders dropped at the question. This time, a sigh actually flowed out of him, his hand slipping off of hers. Gracia knew without having to ask that whatever he was recalling, it was not pleasant. 

But before she could tell him he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, he explained,  “I felt I should when I started training to be the Royal Wizard of Avalor.”

Gracia’s eyes opened a fraction wider. 

“What does dancing have to do with being a Royal Wizard?”

He sighed again.

“Nothing. But I wanted to destroy any possible grounds for criticism. They included failing to mingle and dance during formal events. So besides studying up on all the magic I could, I started learning other things I thought would help me for when I became Royal Wizard. Ballroom dancing was one of them. I was never actually tested on that during my so-called exam, but I guess that’s just as well, because my instructor said that if I didn’t get rid of the snake-like edge to my movements, I’d always be a lost cause.”

Gracia’s face hardened, her eyebrows settling into a straight line, her blood suddenly warmer.

She already knew enough about Fiero’s time trying to be the Royal Wizard to be angry on his behalf at pretty much everyone involved, but it still seemed that the more she learned, the more reasons she found to be angry. It still didn’t excuse what he had ended up doing, of course, but Fiero himself had always acknowledged such a fact whenever they talked about it, and just because she didn’t excuse the way he had snapped it didn’t mean she couldn’t feel sorry for him. As personally motivated as he might have been to a degree, Gracia knew Fiero had also wanted the post because he wanted to help people. Yet, it just kept turning out that more and more people involved in the game were against him, and for all sorts of nonsensical reasons at that.

And to think people from Paraiso were seen by Avalorans as high and mighty jerks, more shallow and vain than parrots! If she ever got to meet those particular Avalorans, she’d certainly have a few choice words for them on that matter. 

But most of them were dead anyway, and if they hadn’t been able to recognize Fiero’s worth before, her ripping them a new one wouldn’t do anything on that front. Not to mention that, unfortunately in every sense of the word, Fiero couldn't be a Royal Wizard anyway. Malvagos couldn’t be Royal Wizards because of the limits to their magic, and once wizards became malvagos, there was no way for them to be wizards again.

Some of her anger drained away by her inner tirade, she willed the remainder back into the depths of her being. Then, smiling at him once more, she held his hand and raised it, this time rubbing her thumb over his palm.

“Well, take this from someone who danced since she was three and was a professional dancer for over thirteen years.” She paused for a moment longer, until Fiero’s gaze was locked on hers. “You’re better than some of my dance partners, and I’m talking of people who danced for a living. And that’s a fact as far as I’m concerned.” She paused again, this time to make sure her sentences sank in. “But even if it wasn’t,  there are only two rules that one needs to follow when dancing.”

Fiero’s lips parted slightly, in a clear relay of his amazement. 

“Really?” he whispered.

“Well, not if you’re doing it professionally,” Gracia admitted. “Then the audience will expect nothing but the best, and in a competition in particular, the judges tend to have a mile-long list of standards, and failing to meet even half of them will rob you of any chance.” She released his hand, then rested her own on his cheek. “But when you’re dancing for fun, there are only two things that need to be done. To dance from the heart, and to choose a partner you like dancing with and who likes dancing with you.”

His smile returned at her words. Warmth again enveloped her hand as he put it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as he finished, his moustache tickling her skin. 

“As long as I’m dancing with you, none of those things will ever come into question.”

“Likewise,” she replied as Fiero straightened himself, their gazes meeting again.

And that was all either needed to say on the matter, their eyes telling each other everything else they needed to know as the breeze flowed around them, a wave again trickling over their feet and then pulling back.

Then, slowly, like a spark spreading across kindling, sunlight spread across the whole landscape, a warmth seeping into their surroundings, the breeze settling down even further until it merely ghosted over them, like the settings in the kind of fairy tale moments common in the ballets Gracia had performed in.

She knew this one was entirely natural and just a lucky coincidence, but she was more than happy to go with it. 

"Dance with me?" she requested, squeezing Fiero’s hand.

He squeezed hers in return, his eyes twinkling. 

"Of course, mi alma."

Her chest fluttering, Gracia slowly withdrew her hand from his’, then raised it until it was before the knot in her wrap.

“Let’s get ready then,” she said.

With those words, she channelled magic into the garment around her shoulders, her signature purplish-pink tone surging around it. As fluidly as a liquid, the wrap untied itself loose and then slid through the air until it hovered before her, folding itself into a neat rectangle. Once it finished, Fiero raised his own hand, sending magic forth as the glow around the bundle shifted from purplish-pink to a different violet shade. Retracting her own magic, Gracia raised her tamborita and aimed it at the wrap, landing a firm, but subdued smack on the drum. A purplish-pink glow bloomed around it, and the next instant, the folded cloth shimmered out of view with a hushed poof, teleported into what she knew was its proper place in its drawer.

That part of the task done, Gracia again channeled magic into her tamborita, purplish-pink sparks surging around its handle and drum with a faint hiss. Lowering the hand he’d been holding up, Fiero raised his tamborita to hers, violet sparks erupting from it. Then, as they put their tamboritas’ drums together, the sparks fused into bigger, brighter bolts of their shades blended together, a loud crackle lashing forth as their magic joined, finishing the protective spell that would safeguard their tamboritas. 

After holding the drum wands in place for a few seconds, Fiero and Gracia released them and, with a sweeping motion of their arms as coordinated as a dance step, sent them floating about thirty feet away, where they sank vertically into the sand. The bolts around them faded, but the tamboritas remained together as if glued, standing under their own power like two swords stuck on the same stone.

Their preparations complete, Fiero put an arm across his chest and bowed, while she curtsied in her sundress as formally as she would in a ballgown. Their gazes locked again, both stepped towards each other, her left hand resting on his shoulder while his right one settled on her waist, their other hands interlacing together. A familiar thrill bursting through her as she felt Fiero’s hand pressing to her left, she went along with the movement of his spin, her hair fanning out as she circled her way around him. A faint splash reached her ears as she stopped, but she barely noticed it as he released her waist and raised their entwined hands above their heads. Following the cue, she twirled in her spot and then put her hand back to his shoulder while his’ settled on her waist again. Her smile growing even wider, she pressed slightly into Fiero’s shoulder to convey what she wanted him to do; he followed along and spun to the left once more with her in his arms, though this time she tightened the circle as she walked around him. In perfect tune with her movement, Fiero stepped back, the two of them falling into their rhythm of steps and twirls and circles, the warm sun shining down on them. 

Reminded of a similar setup in a ballet she had once performed in - and in a musical version of the same story that she had gone to on her fourth date with Fiero - Gracia started humming a familiar tune under her breath, setting their steps to it.  

Again, Fiero curled an eyebrow even as he settled into her cue.

“Aurora and Phillip’s Waltz?” he asked.

“Just something to set our dance to, mi amado,” she replied without slowing down. “I thought this fit us.”

And it did. In more ways than one. Between the costumes they - or at least she - had been wearing on the night they actually started their romantic relationship, the dreams they’d both had on the same night not long before that occasion, and the musical adaptation of The Tale of Sleeping Beauty they had watched on their fourth date, she thought that the song fit them. Not to mention she had always liked it since she was a child, even if Princess Aurora’s tale had never been her top favorite. 

For a moment, Fiero narrowed his eyes, his look out of focus as if he was thinking of something. Then, he pressed his lips together as if gathering himself, and sent a warm tingle flowing into the thrill shooting through her as he began singing. 

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream

Not missing a beat, Gracia joined in.

I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

He pulled her just a bit closer as both sang the next verses.

Yet I know it’s true That visions are seldom all they seem

Their voices soared as they moved into the chorus, the breeze briefly picking up again, but not slowing them down in the least as they swept across the beach.

But if I know you I know what you’ll do You’ll love me at once The way you did once upon a dream