#god i can't stop thinking about ponytail soul now

[bleachbleachbleach]

Hello, I've been hooked up with Bleach since 2008 but still there are things that don't sit well with me. I hope your thought would bring me into the light lol. Like.. Didn't Masaki stay in Soul Society? I mean, is Ichigo able to meet her somewhere in SS since he now could easily travel between two worlds. Same question with, can Orihime meet Sora? Chad meet Abuelo? Uryuu meet his mommy, etc etc. Do you thonk Gotei 13 have the updated data of each residence of Soul Society? When I think it over, I hope it's not that easy for them to meet their late relatives since it wouldn't be special to be seperated by death 😅 Waiting for your amazing explanation! Thanks

As far as how the nature of souls and memory and the slippage between worlds works, I feel like canonically, different characters have offered several different explanations, which is a multiplicity I appreciate. But as to why people aren't meeting up, we get one fairly straightforward explanation:

[Bleach 076]

(Lol that woman doing her hair while standing in line. An icon)

That is, why don't people meet up with their dead loved ones in Soul Society? Because it's statistically hideously unlikely and logistically a nightmare. People are punted off all over the place and there's some implication that memories fade over time, though at what rate and for what reason may not have rhyme nor reason.

But I think that explanation also invites two additional interesting questions:

If each soul is numbered, why can't these numbers be used to locate souls?

Why wouldn't you expect reunions in an afterlife?

Ways of Knowing

You'd think that naming and numbering districts and giving souls numbers would suggest that there's some kind of great ledger of souls that the Gotei keeps and they know where everyone is. We know that the Gotei has enough Rukongai census data to know when fucktons of souls suddenly go missing, after all. But we also know that they don't know what number goes to which soul and which souls are where; if they did Byakuya probably could've reunited his dying wife with her baby sister, even if it were still logistically a nightmare to do so. What are logistics in the face of limitless money?

And I mean, most people living in the United States have a social security number. But even though there's a billion more ways that number comes into play when you're trying to live in the US than your soul ticket number is likely to bear on your Rukongai life--taxes, mandatory K-12, digital footprints, bills, etc.--it's still hard to keep track of people. And I say this living in a very modern, surveillance-state era. At 331 million-ish, does the US have more or fewer people living in it than Rukongai, making it easier or more difficult to keep track of them all? Who knows.

To use an example that's dealing with a smaller number of people--and therefore, one might think, a more manageable dataset--during World War II, the US forcibly removed and incarcerated Japanese Americans at 10 incarceration camps and a number of DOJ prison camps. Every Japanese American family was given a number and sent off to X or Y camp. Despite the fact that this is recent history, was a literal federal operation, and concerned a population of 125,000 (much smaller than 331 million, and much smaller than the number of souls in Rukongai), and multiple call numbers for related documents housed at the National Archives, there is no complete, official record of who was incarcerated where, when, or for how long. Only this year is any of that narrative-through-information beginning to take shape, and notably not through the labor of the federal government.

So do I think Soul Society has complete, updated, or remotely useable records of all the souls in Rukongai? Hell no. No, I do not! Just thinking about how straightforward such a task seems on paper in our world and how utterly apart it is in practice, it doesn't surprise me at all that there aren't records for these things, nor assumptions that locating lost family members would be possible. And that's just the practical aspect of it.

Ways of Being

One thing that separates the historical example I used from whatever it is Soul Society is doing is, if a federal government is going to forcibly remove and incarcerate people, they better not lose (or never create) the damn receipts. To do otherwise is a failing atop a failing.

By contrast, at the thematic and/or spiritual level, I think it's understood--it is an existential belief--that Soul Society/Rukongai is not a place of reunion. It is a place of passage and of wandering, and to arrive in Soul Society is usually not helped along by shinigami. Konsou, the tickets, the numbered districts--those are all accoutrements that now exist, they are things that created Soul Society, but they are not this afterlife. This afterlife was not a place of reunion before it was any of those things, and is remains one even after their creation.

I think it's possible to trigger a kernel panic if your soul was briefly housed by a bird and some very-much-alive guy wandered into the afterlife through a secret trapdoor, and then you get to reunite. But I think it's not necessarily something you come into the situation seeking.

Souls get stuck in the Living World because they snare on this or that element of what was once their life, so I think it makes sense that in Soul Society, those same holds are not part of what it means to be or feel as a soul in Rukongai (particularly as memories fade, but not necessarily because memories fade).

And to return to the practical, I think the churn of souls is unpredictable enough to help the mindset that Rukongai is not a place of reunion. Your soul could be in Rukongai for three days before you die and return to new form in the Living World. You could be there for centuries. If you were to enter Soul Society with the expectation of finding one specific soul, you could spend a frenzied, obsessive lifetime searching for a soul that has already lived seven different cycles, back and forth between the realms, further and further away from you, without you.

And then who's the hungry ghost?

--

For further reading, @unohanadaydreams has some awesome recent posts on the Rukongai Ticket Fiasco here and here!

[captain-n-crunchies]

Pretty girl

Tsubaki x Black Reader ( we a girly girl now!)

F/c= Favorite Color

f/ch= favorite character

s/s= shoe size

" She's a lovely girl, I wish she would see it though."

' Tsubaki, she honestly the prettiest girl I've ever seen! I mean look at how stunning she is! She has pretty hair, cute outfits, and she has the patience of God she's like Anna Hathway! But she never sees it...'

I think this as I boredly stare at the board, Steins trying to dissect some bird again and Maka trying to stop him? I dunno I just twirl my hair and daydream when Patty taps my shoulder.

" Hm? Oh, hey patty girl" I smiled at her.

"Hiiii! Me and Liz, Tsubaki, and Maka was thinking of going to the shops after classes today and I want YOU to come!" She's like honestly like a mind reader or somethings because, I was going to go to like the thrift or the shoe store because I literally have nothing to wear!

" Omg! I legit love you, I'll go! When we leaving" I open my phone and try to set alarm because Death knows I can't keep up with the time when I'm going somewhere. Patty sends me the time and where to me and we talk about random things like does Lord Death know how to do cartwheels, can aliens turn into objects, do animals try to put on clothes? Ok Soul looked at us weird when he heard me say I thought animal testing was animals rating products...

*After Classes, around 2:45 and We in our room in a choas*

" I SWEAR I HATE FASHION SOMETIMES!"

I scream into my pillows, like nothings ever goes right!? I have a denim skirt that I thrifted, and I wanted to pair that with this white halter top but, it dirty and I can't wear it again because I stupidly spilled like red sauce on it! Which is confusing because it's not ketchup so what is it? I dunno so, I try a pink long sleeve but nooo its hotter than ever and I have nothing else to pair it with!

As I flip through the piles and piles of clothes I get a knock on my door, my meister/weapon is out for a family trip, so I answered and there goes pretty girl.

" Hey reader! wanted to come over before our hangout to see you."

Tsubaki tender smile graced her lips, and I smiled back subconsciously. I let her in and I sigh sadly.

" Tsubaki help me pleaseeee, which shirt pink halter with dark denim or yellow thank top and light blue jeans?" I switch the shirts put and down so she can see, and she takes a moment to pick.

" Pink top, it matches the jewelry you have"

" You're a genius!" I squeal and run to change clothes, thank Death I had just my locs in two ponytails (or whatever style you wanna wear). A spritz of perfume or 50 spritz and a twirl in the mirror and I walk out with a strut.

" I look fabulous, I look like coquette icon who Lana Del Ray? I see only Reader Del Slay!" I cockily strut around the room while Tsubaki chuckles and acts like a fan girl.

" Omg! Its reader!? Omg sign my shirt!" We both giggle at that and I grab my keys and we walk out my dorm, its 10 minutes before we supposed to meet up Patty and them so we just walk around campus talking about what we've been up too.

" So, your saying BlackStar had to go to the school nurse because he...fell off a building trying what now?"

" It's honestly still confusing to me" Tsubaki sighs pitifully, and I giggle at that. We walk to the entrance of the DWMA and we see Patty, Liz, and Maka waving at us. We walked down and we headed to our first store; 'Deathly Good Looks' it's like a thrift store but, no granny clothes a lot of vintage items and a bunch of items from the late 80's to mid 2000's. We walk around trying on sunglasses, hats, and purses and I move onto the back of the store looking for anything pink or f/c and fav/ch, as I looked around, I see Tsubaki looking at this dress with wonder..

" Ouu! Thats so pretty, your gonna try it on?"

" Hm, you think I should? I don't know if it'll be as cute on me"

I don't know but when she said that I almost tackled her, WHAT DOES SHE MEAN!? She could pull off a garbage bag and I'll want to wear it!

" What do you mean!? You'll look like a 90's baddie with this! especially if you wear some brown sandals, shades, and have a cute hair style you'll look better than the girl who first owned it!"

Tsubaki blushes at that and I wished I paid more attention to that though; I push her towards the dressing room and tell her to try it on; she takes a few minutes and when she comes out, I couldn't help myself.

" GOOD GOOGGLY MOOGLY WHATS ALLAT BACK THERE!"

I didn't even to say it! But the dress said her body was teaaa and the way she just walked out like she ain't all of us up?? Who does she think is?

" So, it is pretty? I like it" She asks looking in the mirror.

" I'll bite you" I say intense, and she laughed, the girls came over and complemented the dress on her and she changed back; we paid for our items and headed to the shoe store, since the kishin was released we've all had no late-night curfews unless you had a mission or a kishin was around, so we headed to the shoe store quick.

At the store I think I was in heaven honestly from platforms, pumps, flats this store would be bankrupt without me like I'm single handily an unofficial official owner! We look around and I show Maka some sandals that would match this dress she wore to the death anniversary, I saw some Bebe slippers and I went to see what size they we're a perfect s/s! I put them in a mini basket they have and look for more shoes today wasn't that good a lot of sneakers which I should've got if the sandals weren't telling me to buy them! Liz and Patty had like 50 carts of shoes and Tsubaki had a few items, we paid for those items after telling the twins when are they going to wear 'stripper heels'? And we headed to a nice diner close to the school.

We ordered our food I got a tiny burger and fries (if tiny means a sonic burger with a side of large fries and a triple Oreo fudge milkshake then yea girl...tiny) and we sat down and talked and gossiped about the boys, what drama was around, and stuff we've been doing. As we talked and ate, I kept staring at Tsubaki...omg that's sounds so creepy I gotta fid away with words, or is it thoughts since I'm not speaking? I don't know point still stands! But she's so pretty it's hard not too! She caught me a few times and blushed this time I saw and it's so cute I wanna bite her but, that'll be weird.

When we were done, we headed back to the dorms and said our byes, me and Tsubaki headed to her dorm since we were only one level down.

" Hey.. so, a saw you staring at me at the diner, I just wanted to see if you was ok?" ...' I'm not a spy, I'm not smooth, how could she see me I thought my side-eye was perfect! Omg she probably thinks I'm creepy and is gonna hate me!' The thoughts ran quick through my head as I awkwardly smiled and chuckled.

"Oh that! oh it was um..."

" Was what you said at the shop earlier true? Am I pretty?"

I was confused until I thought back to my she's so pretty rant...If I said it out loud then she heard which means she think I like her and I do and she's like me back now we-

" Your speaking out loud again reader"

oH...That's amazing thank youu!

" Oh..act like you've never heard that I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable! bUT-"

" I like you too reader...a lot actually

" You saying i'm bad? Ok girl thank you!" I say now giggling and twirling my hair, see I knew I gotta all the girls like I'm Nick Cannon with this!

Tsubaki goes on to tell me she didn't think she was as pretty as I made her to but, it broke my poor heart because she so gorgues!

" Tsubaki girl, I can't lie good, nor I can't say if someone is ugly or beautiful because I have my flaws but you! Your like so pretty it hurts! I look at you and your aura and the way you act entranced me, the way you care for your friends all the time you're so tender it makes me blush anytime you have a concern over me! If you don't feel beautiful then I don't know what I am!"

Tsubaki stares at e during my rant with wide eyes and when I was done a tear fell down as she hugged me tight..

" Thank you..Thank you so thinking that reader..."

I hold her and tell it it's all true, we walk to her dorm and she stops.

' So, are we a thing now? It's fine if-"

" So we married now?" we said at the same time, we both laughed at that.

" So..we girlfriends?

" Yea! I guess so!" I said all giggly now, Tsubaki smiled at me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as a bye.

" Bye Sweets see you in class"

" Bye bye Prety girl!" I said walking away with a wave.

Pretty girl, My pretty girl

A.N: (I finished! OMG THIS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER THOUGHT OF! Like y'all don't know how Patty and her was my soul eater crushes before anyyyy one! But let me know if you like this and I can write more for her because she so bad!

[junisfics]

Blurred Lines* — Armin Arlert

Request:

Can I request a first time with Armin? Like it’s his first time with the reader

Summary: After a particularly emotionally draining mission, Reader tells Armin she can’t wait any longer

Warnings: Fluff, Smut / Nsfw 18 + (Loss of Virginity, Unprotected Sex), Graphic Depictions of Violence, Brief Descriptions of Illness

Word Count: 3.3k

Notes: yes i hc armin as having a big ole dick on him... have u seen the energy he radiates?

Your legs are pulled up against you with knees resting against his chest. He holds you between his legs and you both sit messily on his bed.

Armin's hands were careful as they comforted you, his palms that glide over the planes of your back and sending shivers down your spine. You cried quietly into his neck with an arm draped around his shoulder, the other resting gently at the base of his neck.

He whispers solace nothings into your hair;

"It's not your fault."

"It's okay, y/n."

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

It was a child. Torn mercilessly in half in their own kitchen. Blood and insides strewn everywhere from the sheer brutality and force that they were ripped apart. It was only their upper half, blood pouring from their mouth and a blank look in their eyes. They're neck had obviously broke from the fall, the contortion of the limb dramatic, head jerked violently to the side.

You threw up in a garden, stomach emptying itself over a bundle of fruits. Armin had held your ponytail back as your tears mixed in with the vomit that dribbled down your chin. You'd hiccupped over and over as you cleared your throat. The image burned into your eyelids.

He pulls your face into his hands, shifting you to face him as you sit cross legged between his legs. His eyes are gentle and kind, brimmed with their own tears that threaten to spill over. His hands are warm, comforting and tender, thumb brushing over your cheekbones.

"Shh, it's okay."

He can't stop your crying or the incoherent words that spill from your lips as your tired eyes look into his. It pains his heart and soul, choking back tears of his own.

"Armin - they - their intestines - " You hiccup with every cry, head bobbing in his hands. You fist his shirt in your hands, crying to him as if he wasn't there himself.

"y/n, you need to calm down." He soothes, using a hand to flatten the hair atop your head and tucking it behind your ear.

"I - Armin - it - it was a child."

He didn't know what to do. His heart aches in his chest. He wanted to take your pain away.

You didn't understand why this singular event had such a traumatic effect on you. You'd seen plenty of dismembered bodies before. Something about the way their eyes were empty and lifeless struck a nerve inside you.

He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to yours. You hiccup once then twice into his mouth but takes them in, only pressing you harder against him.

It's the only thing he's sure will calm you down and shut you up. He drinks in your sobs, salty tears slipping past his lips and onto his tongue. His kiss drowns you as you kiss him back passively,

His lips are gentle, moving smoothly and carefully against yours, sending warmth throughout your once panicked body. Just like that you're grounded, brought back to Earth and brought back to him.

You need more.

You lean into him, getting up to your knees and standing on them so his head tilts upwards for his lips to stay pressed to yours. You take your legs and bring them to the outsides of his and he follows suit and brings his legs closer so if you would sit you’d straddle his thighs.

His comforting hands fall from your face to your waist with an uncertain undertone.

Does he let you continue? 

Obviously, rather indecent thoughts have crossed his mind more then once during this occasion but his guilt stricken conscience has prevented him from pushing you any further; that... and well... the fact that neither of you have done anything past feeling each other up as well as the clear fact that you’re in a negative headspace.

His thoughts go out the door as you crawl further up his body, pressing down on his chest so he lays flat on the bed, head coming down on the pillow. You sit down onto his lap and are unexpectedly ( to you at least ) greeted by his semi hard erection that’s beneath you.

You walk dangerously close to the unspoken line you have both set; the line of experience and inexperience, of comfort and uncertainty... desperation and satisfaction.

Your chest is flush against his as you kiss at his used lips before making your way down his chin and jaw. Your fingernails scratching at his toned chest. His mouth drops open and eyes fluttering back closed as your lips kiss and bite at the fragile skin just below his jawline, hands gripping at your hips a little to tightly to feint composure.

“y/n, I don’t - I don’t think this is the best idea -” He opens his eyes. He struggles restraint.

He wants nothing more then to kiss and hold and feel you, to have his hands travel over every inch of your bare skin and tangled in your hair. He wants to kiss you until neither of you can breathe right so you pant desperately into his mouth and cling to him like a lifeline.

You sit up, just enough so you can look into his deep blue eyes and take in the flustered expression on his face.

“I want to, I need you. Armin, please, give me this. I’m ready.” You plead, his face back in your hands and noses bumping together as you beg for him.

His breath gets caught in his throat as he desperately tries to maintain composure. He wants to give himself to you, place himself directly in your hands and have you take everything you could ever need from him, but he has no idea if you’re in the right place to make the same decision for yourself.

“I want to forget, just make me forget.” You mumble against his lips.

With that, he hands himself over and the line between desperation and satisfaction is blurred like ink on wet paper.

In answer he sits up, slightly bumping his forehead to yours before grabbing the neck of his shirt and pulling it roughly over his head. You waste no time in doing the same crossing your arms around your torso and grabbing opposite sides of the hem of your shirt and pulling upwards. 

His cock twitches beneath you as his eyes land on the foreign skin of your stomach and chest. He’s filled with complete and utter need.

His hands seem to have minds of their own as they grab at the exposed skin of your ribs, gliding over the goosebump ridden flesh, eyes drinking in the milky canvas before him. Once he realizes his actions he pulls back, eyes returning to yours and hands once back at your clothed hips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask if that was okay-”

You shut him up the same he did to you, pressing your lips back against his.

“No, please... touch me.” You whisper, raking your fingers through his tousled hair, “It’s okay”

As much as you appreciate his consideration, you lack the patience.

He does as you wish. Hands return to untraveled panes of flesh that send whimpers up your throat and heat flooding south to where you need him the most. Every inch of your bodies tremble with arousal and inexperience but you wouldn’t dare stop.

You drag your hips experimentally across his, feeling his now completely stiff length glide against you in torturous pleasure. You let out the first real moan he’s heard from you into his mouth and his pants grow uncomfortably tight. 

His chest is warm against yours, still clothed nipples dragging across the toned muscle. You knew Armin would have at least some muscle on his lanky body thanks to the strenuous training the Survey Corps had provided, but never would you have expected to be feeling the extent of toned ridges of his muscle beneath your fingertips.

You take one of his wrists in your grasp and pull him so he rolls on top of you, his waist between your thighs and forearms coming to brace himself beside your head.

“Take these off.” You mutter, grabbing at the sides of your pants and yanking them, lifting your hips in the process to both pull the waistband over your backside and get closer to him.

Your undergarments, his pants, his boxers. Three layers between you.

His mind goes blank, listening to your words and aimlessly pulling the clothing down your legs and tossing it beside the bed. He does the same while he’s standing, stripping himself of his pants and revealing the painful tent in his boxers.

Undergarments. Two layers.

He returns to you, left knee between your legs, cock brushing up against your thigh thanks to the slight bend in your knees.

It’s not as scary as you’d thought. You’re going completely off instinct, trusting your gut and going with the flow. He brings comfort to your nervous body with his own, sturdy and strong. 

Cautiously, his mouth attaches to your neck, licking and nipping against the skin before him and unintentionally leaving deep purple marks in his wake. Multiple mouth shaped bruises are left down your neck and chest without thought, then leading to the tops of your breasts.

He doesn’t know what to do. This is where he has no clue what he’s doing anymore.

You use your abdominal muscles to sit up just enough to reach behind you and unclasp your bra.

He panics.

“Armin, look at me.”

He does.

“I don’t know what to do next either.” You admit, a soft smile upturning your lips, “All I know is that I need you right now.”

“God, me too, I need you so bad, so fucking bad.” His voice is raspy, grained with lust.

Your stomach twists at his use of an expletive. Seeing him like this. Seeing him unfiltered and unhinged awakens a deeper part of you that sends your heart up your throat.

You. He needs you. Not anyone else on this godforsaken planet. He wants you. 

He kisses you again, and with his left wrist back in your hand you guide it down your tense stomach and to the waistband of your panties. When you can feel him moving on his own accord you release your grip. His fingertips are cold as they dip beneath the waist band and tickle the skin below your navel, sending your back arching up against his forearm. 

“I’ve never- you’re gonna need to guide me.” He drops his forehead against your own.

“Um - so there’s this -”

“I - um - know my anatomy, y/n, just tell me what you like.” The corners of his lips threaten to upturn in a smile.

Something about him wanting to make you feel good sends excitement coursing through your veins.

Just tell him what you like, y/n.

You go blank.

What do you like?

You’re brain goes a mile a minute trying to search for when you’ve experienced the most pleasure. Scanning over memories of you tucked under the covers, hand between your thighs and eyes shut tight as you imagined his hand instead of yours. The pads of your fingers circling your clit teasingly light to where your own hips were bucking up against you and begging for more.

Yeah, you liked that.

“Be gentle,” You say quietly, “Tease me.”

He does what he’s told.

Hand slipping lower on your body until his middle finger can search gently for your clit, and once it does so it presses down with a featherlike touch. It’s different. It’s oh so different having his fingers touch you compared to yours. It feels immensely better, senses heightened by thousands. And when his fingers press in tender circles you feel like you could explode.

“A - Armin -” You whimper for him, his eyes that were once trained to your center meet yours, blown with lust.

“Is that - that okay?” He asks, seemingly out of breath.

“Fuck - yeah.” Your voice flies a pitch upwards in response and just as you had predicted your hips stutter up against his hand, wanting more.

He was in complete and utter awe. Was this truly his doing? Was this because of him? The way your body reacted to his touch was exhilarating and had him on edge.

With another wave of pleasure your hand flies to his wrist, not to stop him, no, but to brace yourself. Nothing in your entire life could have prepared you for the way he was making you feel. 

His fingers retreat, “Shit - sorry - did I do something wrong?”

He’s completely out of breath, chest dragging against you as he pants. He has to control himself or he’s not going to last. Just feeling your body twitch and grind against him is enough to tip him over and if he didn’t compose himself soon he wasn’t going to get the chance of being inside you.

“N - no, more, give me more.” You beg, digging your nails into his forearm and feeling the muscle flex under your grasp as his hand obliges. 

He swallows a groan at the feeling of your slick coating his fingertips. You were so ready for him

“D - Did I do this?” His tone isn’t teasing, it’s completely genuine with surprise and incredulity. 

His dick throbs painfully in his boxers as you whimper out a little ‘mhm’ in response to his question, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

Slowly, but not annoyingly so, he pushes his middle finger inside you with ease and something between a moan and a gasp leaves your lips at the sensation. When he’s buried himself to the knuckle he takes your mouth in his to distract him from the feeling of you clenching around his finger.

“I - I want another," You say against his lips.

He removes his finger slowly to relish the way the wet of your walls drag across his digit. He replaces the one finger with two, middle and ring finger entering you effortlessly.

Then languidly, he pumps his fingers in and out of your heat, kissing your neck with an open mouth. Your back arching against his warm body and legs trembling. When his fingers curl slightly to hit that perfect spot inside you, your mouth falls open in an inaudible sob and right hand slapping the bed and gripping the sheets.

His own jaw slacks in reaction and a string of curses follow under his breath and he feels himself pathetically teetering the edge of release as he grinds desperately against your thigh for some kind of relieving friction.

With a few more strokes of his fingers against your slick walls you’ve climbed your high and threatening to spill over his digits. It was all too much to fast.

“Stop - wait -” You whine and his fingers withdraw only moments after you speak.

“Are you okay?” He says in a breathy whisper.

“I want,” You pause to think, picking the words over in your head to try and express your need, “I want to cum on your cock,”

His brain short circuits, mind going completely blank. He could feel his heart ramming against his ribcage. He’s brought back to life by your pleading voice.

“Please,” One of your gentle hands come to rest on his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

He nods, not even able to force words out of his mouth, then gets to his knees embarrassingly fast to pull the remainder of your clothes off your bodies.

Seeing you in this state of vulnerability and exposure had his tender heart swelling in his chest. Even covered in scars and bruises you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen... and so sure that he will ever see. You’re perfect. You’re lovely eyes filled with lust and admiration as you look up to him, arms crossing over your torso as you grow slightly uncomfortable with the time he takes to stare at you.

“You’re - you’re so beautiful.” He says, leaning back over you to press comforting kisses across the planes of your chest and neck before returning once more to your lips. 

As his hips slide between your legs his cock brushes up against you, skin on skin. Zero layers. He shudders at the feeling, the arm beside your head that braces him up shakes under pressure.

“Is this okay?” He looks in your eyes to search for even the tiniest glimpse of doubt behind them... and he finds none.

“Yes, please.”

Glancing between your bodies that are slick with sweat and arousal he takes himself in his hand, pumping his fist over himself a few times before pressing the head at your entrance.

“It’s-s gonna hurt... a little,” He can’t even focus. You’re so wet, so warm against him. He needs to feel you. For someone who’s never struggled with patience before he’s sure as hell struggling now.

“It’s okay, please, I promise”

He pushes painfully slow into you. His mouth on yours, hair tickling your face.

He was right. It hurts... but it hurts so fucking good. His length stretches you open and filling you so immensely full. The pain is manageable, you were so ready for him. 

And now you’re so tight for him. Your slick heat swallows him, pulling him to the hilt and sending the head of his cock against your cervix. You cry out, hands clawing at the hard muscles in his back as he gives you a moment for adjustment.

Once you’re comfortable you grind your hips slowly against his and savoring the changes in pressure as he shifts within you.

“You can move,” You say, locking your ankles at the base of his spine.

His forehead falls to your collarbone to groan against your skin, “J - Just give me a second.”

If he’d move, he would have most definitely came inside you... and he tries his best to stop the mere thought of it from flooding his head.

Afters a few heartbeats of rest he pulls back, sliding his cock out of you before thrusting back in a little faster then before.

You can feel every inch of him stretching you open, every ridge and vein that lines his pretty dick drags across your walls. Moans spill shamelessly from your lips and onto his, his tongue now licking at your open mouth and high on the taste of you.

All of a sudden the weight of him inside you begins to feel really fucking good. His pace increasing, pulling his length all the way out before slapping his hips back against yours.

"I'm not going to last, I'm sorry -" He says, slipping his right hand over your cheek and into your hair and looking into your eyes.

"Me neither - Armin I -" Your head tilts up the sky and he kisses your jaw before speaking to you.

"Look at me, please." He whispers.

You do, you gaze back into his kind eyes as you succumb to him, putting yourself in his palms as you feed off of each other to climb your orgasms. When he hits that spot inside you with his head you spill over, gushing around him.

He follows suit, burying himself as deep as he can go and emptying himself of everything he has inside you.

You milk him dry.

Your chests heave against eachother as he presses a bruising kiss to your swollen lips.

The lines were walked over, crossed, blurred, obliterated... and it was okay.

[marsbutterfly]

Mirrors

Note: I have been working on this for months. Every time I listen to this song, I think about slow dancing with Hanji. Please I’m begging, let me know if y’all like it <3

Summary: Stars shine brightly in the sky outside but inside the crowded ballroom, the only star you are interested in is Hanji.

WARNING: Slightly NSFW! 

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“Aren't you something to admire

'cause your shine is something like a mirror

And I can't help but notice, you reflect in this heart of mine”

The music that echoes from the main hall is now muffled by the closed doors. You take a few steps forward, propping your body on the balcony as you watch the leaves on the trees dancing with the wind.

Strands of hair fall from their assigned position in an elegant bun. As you shiver, you wrap your arms around your torso in an attempt to keep yourself warm. 

Sliding your hand up and down the sides of your arm, you silently take your free index and middle fingers towards your mouth, a red lipstick mark staining your skin.

A smirk curls up on the right corner of your lips as you think about the tall, brunette awaiting for you inside the ballroom. Her black suit perfectly matches her eye patch as the waves of her hair fall over her shoulder, still the usual messy ponytail.

You take a deep breath allowing the cold air to fill your lungs. The wind hits your face and your nose turns bright red in response. Your eyes analyze the land ahead of you while you pay close attention to the armed soldiers protecting the building.

“Y/N.” A voice pulls you away from your thoughts. Immediately, you turn around and bow to her, paying close attention to her cheeks as they turn red under the pale moonlight.

“Your Highness.” 

“I still can’t get used to that.” Historia says. The long, red cape she wears sweeps the floor as she walks closer to you, and in her eyes you can see how desperate she is for a break from the overwhelming attention she’s been receiving. You flash her a compassionate smile before extending your hand, helping as she struggles with the flowy white dress she wears. She mouths the words “Thank you” in return..

“Would you like a cigarette?” You ask, opening the container as the smell of tobacco quickly hits against your nose. She shrugs, quickly shaking her head while putting her hand up, trying to gently push it away. All you can do is laugh in response.

“God, no.” She says, a laugh of her own escaping her small body, “Just the smell makes me want to cough and plus, it wouldn’t look good if anyone saw the Queen smoking.”

“I don’t smoke them either.” You place the container back into the small pocket hiding in the fabric of your red dress, arms quickly wrapping around yourself once again in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold. “But I learned that it’s always a good idea to have a pack with you when dealing with the higher-ups.”

After taking a few more steps forward, Historia places her hand on your upper left-arm. Neither of you say anything for a few seconds, simply enjoying the rare seconds of silence surrounding you. It doesn’t last more than a couple of minutes.

“If you ever feel alone and the glare makes me hard to find

Just know that I'm always parallel on the other side”

Rushed footsteps come from behind you. The blonde girl by your side lets out an audible sigh before turning around to face whoever was making their way through the massive door and you notice a hint of sadness hidden in her ocean blue eyes.

“Your Highness, your presence is being required.” A tall soldier says, short of breath after running towards you. Historia hangs her head low, shaking it slowly. 

“Go.” You try and encourage her, “Those military idiots in there won’t be of any help once the alcohol gets to their head.”

She grimaces before nodding, the soldier takes her hand and guides her to the massive brown doors of the ballroom. But before going in, he turns to you quickly. “Section Commander Y/N, Commander Hanji would like to see you.”

A smile on your face, you practically run back inside the building, your heels clicking against the floor as you pass the queen. She giggles and shoots you a quick glance. 

“They really are an amazing couple, aren’t they?” She quietly asks the guard standing next to the door, not expecting an answer from her other than a smile and a nod.

The sound of loud voices and wine bottles gently hitting the edge of glasses fills your ears. In one of the corners, the band plays an upbeat melody while couples dance around the room. Ball gowns coat the floor with glitter as they spin around like dandelions flying with the wind.

On the way in, you rush past the crowd, bumping against a few and quickly apologizing until you lay your eyes on her. She holds a champagne glass in her right hand as her left rests in the pocket of her high-waisted pants. Even though Hanji is a few inches shorter than most of the men surrounding her, she still makes a point to hold  her chin up and look down at all of them.

But as soon as her eyes meet yours, her face noticeably lights up. Once you are close enough, she excuses herself before quickly running towards you, careful not to spill the drink in her hand. Your arms wrap around her waist, face resting on the crook of her neck while she pushes your head as close to her as possible. 

“You were looking for me?” You ask, propping your chin up on her collarbone. She smiles widdly at you and nods, strands of her hair tickling your face.

“Yes, I needed you to save me from…. Them.” She tilts her head, a barely noticeable gesture but enough for you to look over her shoulder. A group of four men stare at you, one of them you quickly recognize as Commander Pixis, who simply raises his nearly full wine glass at you before taking a long sip. Once he places it down, there is nothing in it anymore and you let out a giggle against Hanji’s skin.

“I’m sorry, I needed some fresh air.” You say and smile at her.

“Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul

I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go

Just put your hand on the glass

I'm here trying to pull you through

You just gotta be strong”

The upbeat song quickly disappears and in its place a comforting silence appears. The woman in front of you takes a step back before extending her hand forward. No words are needed for you to understand what she’s trying to say.

You nod and take her hand, allowing her to guide you towards the dance floor. A red blush spreads across your face though you are not quite certain why. Perhaps it’s a result of Hanji’s warm fingers touching your skin or maybe the alcohol is finally hitting you.

Once both of your bodies come to a full stop, she places one hand on your back as the other remains holding yours. She pulls you closer and your focus now belongs to her intoxicating and intense, whiskey brown eyes.

Hand resting on her shoulder, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself as the band starts to play a slow melody. Couples all around you begin to move and you can feel your heart beating in your throat, a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Hanji’s grip on you tightens for a second and you feel a wave of calmness washing over you. Her feet begin to move, gently guiding you around in perfect sync with each other. The smile on her lips as she escorts you from one side to the other is nearly enough to outshine the moon, your heels clicking against the marble floor. 

For a second, it seems as if the world around you has disappeared and only the two of you remained. Curious eyes from the crowd now rest upon you, paying close attention to your movements. You can feel your heart racing in your ears, nearly blocking out the music.

Guiding both your hand and hers above your head, she spins you gently and you allow a quiet giggle to come out. As your body comes to a full stop, Hanji pulls you in, your palms resting against her chest while your eyes focus on the waves of her hair. 

Every last particle of air is sucked out of your lungs before your lips meet hers. The taste of the alcohol in her breath mixed with the faint smell of your lipstick brings out a feeling you are all too familiar with, comfort.

The softness of her mouth against yours erases every other thought you might have in that moment and the only one left is Hanji. The way her fingers feel against your skin or how you are able to feel the beating of her heart, rhythmically matching yours.

All eyes now rest upon the two of you, carefully waiting for your next move. In this moment, underneath the bright lights of the ballroom and the gaze of every superior in the Military, you realize you belong to Hanji, body and soul.

“Cause I don't wanna lose you now

I'm lookin' right at the other half of me

The vacancy that sat in my heart

Is a space that now you hold”

Lips finally separating, she smiles brightly at you before spinning you one final time and carefully supporting your body weight as you fall into her arms. When she brings you back up, your faces are merely an inch apart. 

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch your breath while she touches her forehead to yours. After what it feels like an eternity, you are able to break out of the trance her intoxicating eyes had you in and you finally notice the two of you are the center of attention.

A burning sensation takes over your cheeks and you shift your focus towards Hanji’s expensive shoes but before too long, you feel her index finger brushing against your skin and resting underneath your chin while she places her thumb parallelly on top.

She gently forces your head up and welcomes your eyes with a bright smile. You can’t help but allow the corners of your lips to rise in return. 

Before you have time to fall into yet another trance, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Quickly, you turn around, consequently freeing yourself from Hanji’s embrace. The bald man with rosy cheeks gets closer to her, making sure she can hear him over the deafening beat of the band’s new song.

She simply nods and you watch him walk away. You flash Hanji a curious look and, in response, she brings her lips dangerously close to yours only to make a detour and place them by your ear. 

“Let’s go outside.” She says, “I want to introduce you to a few more of my colleagues.”

You nod. Her warm breath hitting your skin now turns into the feeling of her lips biting your earlobe. A shiver goes down your spine and a part of you melts right then and there. She lets out a giggle before pulling away and grabbing your hand, gently guiding you towards the exit.

“Show me how to fight for now

And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy

Coming back into you once I figured it out

You were right here all along

It's like you're my mirror”

The cold wind hits your face as soon as you step outside but this time you are welcomed by loud laughs and the smoke from several lit cigarettes instead of the calming silence. 

Hanji closes her eyes, taking a quick breath before making her way down the stairs, your hand now resting on her upper left arm.

From a small group emerges a man you have never seen before. The insignia on his chest indicates he’s a part of the Garrison but nothing more sticks out to you. He reaches for Hanji’s hand and she quickly obliges.

“This is my Y/N.” She says. You simply nod and smile at him.

As they strike a conversation, you wave your hand at one of the servers and grab one of the many glasses of wine they hold above a tray. 

The liquid slides down your throat with ease as you try and focus on the words flowing around you. Hanji shoots you a concerned look, to which you simply squeeze her arm gently, wordlessly letting her know that you’re still there, and that you’re bored.

You wordlessly transmit what is going through your head by squeezing her arm repeatedly, “I. Want. To. Go. Home.” You pause for a few seconds, and then squeeze her one final time as if to say “please.” 

In response, Hanji laughs into her cup, acting like she’s paying attention to whatever the man in front of you is saying.

Suddenly, you feel her hand sliding across your hips. It doesn’t rest there for long before quietly making its way down. A gasp escapes you once you feel the pressure of her grasping the flesh of your ass.

You shiver gently, trying to play it off as if you’re cold but the devious smirk on her lips is nearly enough to destroy your cover.

With each look she shoots you, you feel the world around you spin for a second. You’re not able to tell if you're drunk from the wine or from those intoxicating brown eyes.

“Well gentlemen, it has been a pleasure.” Hanji says, and nods at them gently, “But we have an early start tomorrow and I would hate to deal with the initiation ceremony while suffering from an awful hangover.”

The men burst into laughter all at once, so synchronized it reminds you of instruments in a symphony. You simply smile and wave them goodbye before rushly following behind Hanji. 

As you wait for your ride, you pull her closer to you in order whisper to her, sweetly and desperately, “I need your fingers inside of me.”

Hanji looks at you out of the corner of her eye. 

“Then my fingers inside of you is what you shall get, my lady.” She replies, lust filling her eyes. Her hand rests on your lower back, pulling you closer and destroying every inch of space between you two.

“My mirror staring back at me

I couldn't get any bigger

With anyone else beside of me

And now it's clear as this promise

That we're making two reflections into one”

Outside, all you can hear is the clopping of hooves against the pavement. Yet inside the carriage, the sounds of your moans fill the air. 

You straddle Hanji on the carriage seat as your hands desperately unbutton her white shirt. Her blazer already lies forgotten on the empty seat across from you. The warmth of her fingers travels from your back to your ass, feeling the pressure of her squeeze as it drags a delighted sound out of you.

A smile takes over her lips before they shift to plant wet kisses on your jawbone. You groan quietly, your hands shaking as you push her now-unbuttoned shirt off, and you watch as the cloth slides down her arms.

Lifting your head, you wordlessly invite her to kiss your neck. She immediately obliges, her lips brushing against the area gently. She travels from your jaw to your collarbone and you melt against her touch much like snow in the sun.

Hanji giggles quietly, fully appreciating the savory image before her. You decide to use the break to your advantage and reach for her hand. You guide it towards your already soaked underwear and press her fingers into you.

Her fingertips brush lightly against the thin fabric of your lace underwear, dragging a prolonged moan out of you. Once she applies a bit more pressure right above your clit, you know you are done for.

Her middle and ring fingers move in small circles and a shiver travels down your spine. Instantly, you begin moving your hips against her, your arms wrapping around her neck as you try to balance yourself.

Once both of you quicken your paces, you begin to gasp desperately. Hanji’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, her warm tongue tracing along the dips of your skin. 

The carriage comes to an abrupt stop. Hanji’s hands move towards your hips, securing you in place. As your eyes meet, she giggles, and it’s so heartwarming that it fills the air and brings the corners of your lips up into a smile. Seeing her like this awakens the hundreds of butterflies in your stomach.

You move your leg, allowing her to get up and open the carriage door. Your hands carefully examine the seat, looking for her blazer. Yet all you find is the imprint left by her ass. Once you feel the expensive fabric in your fingers, you grab it before making your way outside the door.

As you stand outside, Hanji’s left arm rests on your back while her right scoops your legs out from underneath you. She lifts your body up, and laughs loudly as she carries you towards the building. She backs into the heavy, brown doors while holding you in her arms, and stumbles inside of your house. 

Standing in front of your room’s door, she shoots a look at you to silently ask you to turn the knob. 

After turning on the lights, Hanji makes her way past the small wooden table in the middle of the room and carries you towards the bed. You pull her in by the neck, sealing your lips together in a kiss. 

Your body is gently placed on the bed, kissing all the while. Her tongue gently explores your mouth and you crave for more of her touch, to feel her breath against your skin despite the smell of alcohol that lingers on her tongue.

Hanji laces her fingers with yours, and you notice how well they fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. You finally realize you need air and you mentally curse your lungs for their need to breathe, forcing your lips apart. 

With a smirk, she pulls away, gently grabbing your wrist and placing your hand right above her heart. As you feel the beats, you could’ve sworn they were saying your name.

She plants a quick kiss on your lips before getting up, quickly unbuttoning her own shirt while making her way towards the door once again. A whimper leaves your body and your bottom lip quivers. 

Hanji doesn’t say anything but simply locks the door before walking back to you, hands behind her back as she starts to remove her bra. A smile on your lips, you begin touching the fabric of your own dress before pulling it up your body.

The last thing you pay attention to before focusing solely on Hanji is the flicking light of the candle standing on the bedside table. 

As she lays in bed with you, her hands quickly find their way towards your boobs, gently pinching your nipple in between her fingers while resting her face on your shoulder, wet lips leaving small, purplish marks on your skin.

All you’ve ever wanted was for Hanji to feel like you belong to her and tonight you will show her that you do, body and soul.

“Cause it's like you're my mirror

My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me”

[allegra-writes]

“Fool’s gold”

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Sex pollen.

This is an alternative version to my fic "Fireproof", where the reader gets doused by the sex pollen instead of Peter, but you don’t need to have read that first. As any sex pollen fic, this can qualify as non/dub-con, so read at your own discretion and responsability.

Dedicated to @angel-spidey because without her this would have never seen the light of day💓

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Peter knew it was wrong. He knew it. He wasn't delusional enough to believe it was something other than the pollen making you act that way. Making you say those things. You had always been sweet to him, that was true, but you were sweet to everybody, didn't make any difference if they were a janitor or an avenger, it was one of the reasons he liked you so much. 

He also knew he wasn't the only one. His eyes weren't the only pair of eyes that strayed to you in the lab, Harley too seemed to be rather distracted whenever he was in your presence. And in fact, Peter didn't think he had ever seen Steve visit the lab that often before. Ever. And the guy was freaking Captain America, how could he ever compete with that? 

You didn't feel the same way about him, he had resigned to that a long time ago. To watch you from afar. To love you from afar. Because at least that much was true: the only way he knew he beated the other two men, beaten them by a long shot, was that he loved you the most. 

That was why he had left the med bay, because he couldn't stand it, seeing you like that, fighting against your restraints, skin flushed and eyes on fire, calling him, begging him to…

He wasn't able to resist it. 

And why he had walked away from the lab, leaving Bruce and Tony and even Stephen, to wrack their brains trying to find a cure, when the obvious solution was right in front of them. 

That was how he had found himself alone, in the dark, pretending to nap in the little on call room right outside the med bay, still in his suit after that disastrous mission they should have never let you tag along in the first place. Far enough from you not to hear your desperate pleas, but close enough to help if something happened. If the damn alien substance raised your fever enough to- No. He wasn't going to think about that. Dr. Banner was going to come up with an antidote. They still had time. 

Yeah, he knew it was wrong. He knew he should have told FRIDAY to alert mister Stark as soon as he heard the soft sound of your footsteps on the hallway. He knew he should have fled as soon as the knob turned and you entered the room. As you made your way to him. But he was paralized, frozen in place, as you leaned down over him, running your hot, way hotter than normal, hands down his chest, leaving fiery trails in their wake over the thin skin tight fabric of his suit. You raked your nails over his abs, feeling the muscle riple under your touch. 

"Y-you shouldn't be here" He stammered, as your fingertips came close, dangerously close, to the place where his suit was already starting to feel tight around his hips.

"Hmm… but you won't tell on me" your thumb traced the base of his length, a barely there caress that nonetheless had him jumping. "Will you, Peter?"

He breathed you in, another mistake. He could practically smell your desire, leaking through your pores. Pheromones, sweet and mouthwatering. 

He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

Even in the dark, he saw you smile bright at his surrender. Discarding your lab coat, you straddled his hips, little blue skirt riding up your thighs, and released your hair from its ponytail as Peter watched, entranced by your every move. You spread your legs a little more, letting your center come in contact with his by then obvious erection. He could feel your heat through his suit, choking on thin air when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear. 

"F-fuck…" He gasped, eyes rolling back inside his skull as you started rocking above him.

He tried desperately to hold still, to stop himself from bucking his hips up to meet yours, but it was impossible. Every cell in his body telling him to move, to touch, to take what he had wanted for so long. What he had never dared to dream he could have. 

You moaned at the delicious friction you were creating, and you could hear him starting to breathe harder too. He felt amazing, a soothing balm to your burning skin everywhere you touched. This was what you needed, what the chemicals running in your blood demanded. He was warm, and hard, and male. But more than that, he was Peter, and he had to be yours. There was no other way, no other ending for this story. 

You grinded your pelvis against his harder, the pressure on your clit just perfect, the coarse texture of his suit only adding to the sensations. You were making a mess of it, ruining it, but it was worth it just to hear his groan the moment your wetness seeped through the fabric. 

"We can't… we can't do this" Peter tried to protest, even as his hands flew to your waist to aid your movements. 

"Why? Because an alien pollen is messing with my head?" You got rid of your t-shirt, and Peter's reply died in his throat, you weren't wearing a bra either "because it's wrong? Because It's dirty and-"

A wounded sound left Peter's mouth, a wordless surrender, a sob at his own damnation, and he snapped, his fragile control finally shattering to pieces. One second you were on top of him, teasing him within an inch of his life, and the next you were trapped between the soft mattress and his hard body, as his lips ravished yours, one hand roughly massaging your breasts, the other slipping under your skirt, searching blindly, fingertips digging into the delicate skin of your inner thighs. He was furious in his onslaught, desperation clear in the way he was kissing you, all teeth and tongue. Greedy. Ravenous. 

Because if this was all he was ever going to get, just one night with you, as you used him to scratch an itch, then he was going to make the most of it. He was going to commit every little detail to memory: The shape of your body under his, the taste of your skin, the smell of your hair, vanilla and cinnamon and something else, something uniquely you. The sweet little moans falling from your lips. 

"Peter, please"

He almost died when you said his name like that, breathless and needy.

"What do you need, princess?" He sobbed, "Anything… it's yours…just-"

"You. I need you" You replied, graceless fingers clawing at his suit, "take it off, please, I need to feel you"

He obeyed, pressing the spider on his chest and practically kicking it off in his haste to return to you. You welcomed him back with open arms and open legs, as he crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he could find in the way. Your breath hitched when he got to that little spot just under your breast, and you could feel his smile against the curve of it, right before his lips enveloped your left nipple, calloused fingers circling the other one clumsily, unskilled. But you were too delirious, too far gone to notice, the miles of skin against yours both soothing and stroking the fire within at the same time. 

You cried out,

"Peter! Please, it hurts so much, please! I- I can't-"

He kissed the tears away, softly, delicately. A stark contrast to his own demeanour just minutes ago.

"I-it's ok. I got you" He cooed, caressing your face "I'll make it better. I promise" 

He braced himself on one arm, elbow digging into the mattress next to your face, as he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around himself, aligning with your center. It took him a few tries, even slipping out once. He had no idea what he was doing, only knew that you needed him, and he wasn't going to let you down. Your life depended on it, and it was too important, too precious for him to even think of failing. 

You raised your hips just a bit, and he was sliding in, easily, so easily, as if he was meant for it. As if your bodies were two pieces of the same puzzle, finally falling into place. 

"Oh god…"

You clutched as his shoulders, burying your hiss into his neck. 

"Oh my god are okey? Did I hurt you?" The panic in Peter's voice made you smile despite yourself. He was still Peter, the sweetest most caring guy you had ever met. Soft, even with his hard cock so deep inside you, you could feel it in your soul, in your very essence, already claiming you as his. 

But you didn't need gentle. You didn't want him to thread softly. You needed hard, and fast, and more.

"Peter… fuck me"

"I-..." His eyes met yours, and you saw a new determination in them, jaw squaring as he withdrew almost completely, only to surge again, tearing a new cry from your lips. 

He let instinct take over, starting to thrust in and out of you, your tight, silky heat making his eyes roll inside his head

"Fuck! Oh god… oh my god… you feel…" He panted, amazed, handsome face scrunching in pleasure, eyes closed and mouth slack, "Fuck, you feel so good!" 

You wanted to reply, to tell him how amazing he felt too, every inch of his thick hard cock stretching you just right. Every ridge, every vein sending shocks of pleasure to your body until you couldn't see straight. You could feel you peak already building, with every delicious drag.

"More… Peter, please… more" 

How could he say no, when you were begging so prettily in his ear, hand tugging at his curls making it hurt so good? He picked up his pace, hips slapping against yours. Over, and over, and over… 

You were still on fire, every inch of your skin alight, exploding in sensation but it didn't burn anymore. Now it was a simmering warmth, making everything sharper, more intense. Better than anything you had ever felt before. He was better than anything you had felt before. 

And Peter was lost in you, in your moans, in your body, in your cunt. In the way you were taking him, consuming him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle, letting him reach deeper, bury himself almost to the hilt. Your blunt nails digging into his back until he smelt blood. 

He fucking loved it, love the idea of carring your marks even after this was over. He knew he wanted you to wear his. 

His lips found your neck almost of their own accord, sucking and nibbling until the sounds leaving your throat were nothing short of pornographic, the wanton whines and moans resonating in the room until he was sure Bruce and Tony could hear them all the way to the lab. 

"Yes, scream for me baby girl, let them know how good I'm fucking you" Peter didn't know where it was coming from, that arrogance, that… possesivenes. He knew you weren't really his. It was the pollen, you would never be doing this otherwise. And he probably wasn't that good, it was his first time after all. 

But your cries, the way your whole body was trembling under his, were giving him confidence. 

"Oh god… you're coming for me, aren't you? You gonna come on my cock?" 

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, and he almost fell on top of you taken by surprise by the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock for the first time ever, triggering his own release. But he didn't have time to recover before you croaked a weak but firm, 

"More" 

He met your eyes, stunned, but all he found there was assurance and passion. 

He turned around on the small bed so it was you the one on top. 

"Ride me" 

You didn't need to be told twice, straightening on top of him, rising slightly on your knees only to let yourself fall back down, impaling yourself on his dick. He licked his lips, looking like a king with a hand behind his head, gazing up at you through hooded eyes. 

"Show me"

"What?" 

He gestured towards the mini skirt you forgot you were still wearing. 

"Lift up that pretty skirt, and let me see how good you take my cock" 

A little whine left your mouth at his words, and you did as you were told, never stopping your bouncing motions.

It worked as Peter imagined it would, his softening cock coming to life again as he watched it disappear inside you. 

"Look at that" he whispered, almost in awe, "such a beautiful pussy, looks so pretty, stuffed full of my cock…" 

You picked up your rhythm, a little unstable on shaky legs, both hands still holding the fabric up and out of the way.

"Peter…" you whimpered. 

"What do you need, baby girl? I told you, anything you want is yours… I'm yours" 

You moaned, incapable to find the words. Thinking was impossible, speaking was inconceivable, not with him still between your legs.

He bucked his hips, 

"Uh!" 

"That what you want, princess?" He smirked, smug, "Like it better when I give it to you?"

You nodded, shamelessly, your legs burning with the effort but stopping was not an option. He sat up on the bed, enveloping you with his arms, thrusting up into you faster, deeper…

You felt the head of his cock stab your cervix, and he must have felt it too, because he groaned, eyes glazing over. 

"Can you feel me? Feel how deep I am?"

"Yes" You hissed.

"Gonna come like this…" He took hold of your hips, bringing you down hard as he thrusted up, "come so deep inside you… mark you… from the inside" 

You could feel it approaching fast, the pleasure he was inflicting on you too much, too soon. 

"Fill you up so good…"

"Yes"

"Until it's gushing out of you… and then… gonna fuck you again…"

"Yes!"

"Come inside you again… make you my little cumslut…"

"Yes! Please… please give it to me"

He could feel you tense around him again,

"What do you need, princess?"

"Your come" You screamed, "Give me your come, Peter!"

"Fuck! My pretty little slut… take it… Take it!"

And you did.

…

You passed out somewhere between rounds five and six, utterly sated and exhausted, but Peter couldn't sleep, terrified of the moment you woke up, all the pollen consumed, the spell broken. He knew it wasn't real, but for a few hours, he had been happy, pretending you truly did love him, wanted him, as he had loved and wanted you since the first time he had seen you, all that time ago, the day mister Stark had entered the lab with you in tow, announcing Peter that he had a new lab partner. 

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, relaxed and happy, when he heard the buzzing coming from your lab coat, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! What happened? Please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It messes your hormones and hers up with every fluid exchange! Like an artificial heath”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance fucking up his brain, maybe he was the one fucked up, all by himself, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as horrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

The end.

[pixie-dust-and-pain]

Just Her And Adora (Catradora)

Summary: Catra has always had a crush on her best friend, but no biggie, she's working on it. of course, Adora chooses to come out just then.

Word count: 1384

Warnings: swearing

a/n: this is set before the finding of the sword and yes they get together in the horde i want my gay babies to be happy shut up

Catra doesn't really know what's happening to her. Actually, scratch that, she knows. She knows very well. The problem is that she doesn't know how to stop it.

They've worked past her abandonment issues, and she and Adora are supposed to be best friends, so why is it that every fucking time Adora smiles at her or comes within a five-foot radius of her, or even so much as looks at her, Catra's heart decides to run a marathon?

And when Adora smirks at her? Or leans down? Or exercises in front of Catra in that skin-tight suit, where Catra can see very clearly how muscled she is, her soul leaves her body?

Last week, Adora had picked Catra up when she'd refused to sleep, her protests muddling together because of how overtired she was, and had simply thrown Catra over her shoulder, and Catra could feel herself ascending.

She needed to stop. Not only that, but she also needed to catch a grip. Adora was her best friend, not someone whose lips she should be fantasizing about kissing in the middle of a lecture from Shadow Weaver.

Oh, right, Shadow Weaver. Another problem, like Catra didn't have enough already. Shadow Weaver may despise Catra right now, but if she found out about her feelings for Adora, she would murder her. Call her a 'distraction' or something like that before sucking her soul out. Or however Shadow Weaver killed people.

Adora's expertly dodging blows some distance away, kicking Lonnie's gut and grinning when she falls. They've been going at it for a while, and Catra's entranced by the way Adora's smile widens when Lonnie falls, and the way her hair is out of her perfect ponytail, and the way her eyes gleam-

Her opponent lands a blow at her rib, pushing her back. It isn't hard enough to hurt her in a way that matters, but it does throw her off balance. She slides, regaining it quickly, before smashing her elbow against their torso and dodging under their arm. They fall to the floor, and she wins.

"Good work, Lonnie!" Adora calls out behind her, racing to catch up to Catra.

"You, too, Adora. Gotta say, nearly lost 'cause I got distracted by your biceps," Lonnie calls back, laughing.

Adora grins, "Look who's talking,"

It's pretty obvious that they're joking. Adora jokes like that. But Catra can't help feel a prickle of annoyance. "Careful now," she smirks at her, "People may start thinking you're into girls," also I'm jealous, please stop.

"Well, they wouldn't be wrong," Adora answers, continuing on as if she hasn't just taken Catra's world and ripped it off its hinges.

"You're into girls?" Catra's voice comes out shocked. She's trying to calm herself, to make sure she looks nonchalant, but it really isn't working.

Adora simply nods.

She freezes, hit by the full realization of what that means. Adora likes girls. Catra is a girl.

What's wrong with you?

Adora may like girls, but it doesn't mean she necessarily likes Catra. But it does mean that there is a chance. There's a chance that Adora might like her back, there's a chance that they might get together-

And, she reminds herself, if you don't, it won't be because you're a girl. It'll be because you're you.

"Are you okay?" Adora asks, interrupting Catra's train of thoughts.

"Yeah, it was just a little weird," Wait, no, poor word choice.

"What? Me being attracted to girls?"

"No, Adora, not everything is about you. Just a little weird that you like girls, y'know?" Oh, God, what is she doing? Catra really wishes her mouth would shut the fuck up.

"Oh, is that so?"

"No, I mean. Yes, but no? I, you know, always thought you had a thing for Kyle?" Kyle? Really?

Adora blinks at her, "Kyle? The one who's dating Rogelio?"

"...yes?"

Adora sighs, annoyance obvious. "Catra, I thought we worked past this?"

Catra hadn't even noticed that they'd already gotten to the roof. That was fast. Had Adora unconsciously led them there or did she do it on purpose? And why was Catra thinking of that when there were clearly more important things to be worrying about? "Past what? Honestly, Adora, let it go. Said it was a little weird, that's all,"

"I can't just 'let it go'," she replies, adamant, "especially not when you're lying to my face,"

She pauses, gulping, before she leaps onto the railing. "Forget it,"

"No-Catra! Come back!"

Catra's already climbed up, though.

There are so many reasons she should just lie again, but something in her really wants to give in. So many reasons not to tell her.

She doesn't deserve Adora, for starters. Adora is everything she isn't, an angel to the core. The self-sacrificing hero, the good guy. Adora's the best, Adora deserves the best. She's too pure to be tainted by her, too sweet whereas Catra's bitter. Catra ought to simply lie again. It's what she should do.

"and it would do you both so much good if you left her. You're holding her back,"

Shadow Weaver's words echo in her head again, and she grits her teeth.

Adora has climbed up beside her and is simply staring. The light is making her hair look a shade golden, making it glow, as though she's some sort of ethereal being. She may as well be. It falls on her, softening her features, and her hair frame her face, still out of her ponytail from the recent fight.

She looks beautiful, and Catra is questioning how she can even breathe. She's unsure if she can, actually.

Shadow Weaver may be right, but Catra doesn't care anymore. She's tired of the old hag controlling her life, tired of the constant supervision and scrutiny. If she's going to go down, why not kiss Adora before doing it?

"Catra?"

"I've got a crush on you," the words leave her so fast it's like they're being ripped from her chest. It's painful, and she feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She's nauseous, and the fear is now bubbling up inside of her. Not only has she risked ruining everything she and Adora have, but she's also risked getting hurt again.

"What?" Adora's voice is barely above a whisper.

She takes a deep breath and tries to forget. The pain will always linger at the back of her head, the voices will always whisper, waiting to consume her. They'll warn her not to let herself become vulnerable, but that's what Adora has taught her.

"I've," she grounds out, focusing on her knees, making an effort not to look at Adora, "got a stupid crush on you,"

Keeping your heart open makes you vulnerable, but it also makes you strong. And, besides, she'd rather be vulnerable than forget the feeling of Adora's hand in hers, or the way her stupid little hair puff stands out.

"You like me? Really?" Adora sounds astonished, and Catra wants to smack her face.

She's growing frustrated, and finally meets Adora's wide eyes, "Don't you get it? I love you," the words hang heavily in the air between them, "I always have,"

She's done with the Horde. She's done with Shadow Weaver and her mind games and her threats and she's done with everyone else. She loves Adora, and she'd be damned if she let anything get in the way of that. A tear falls.

Adora doesn't want me. Not like how I want her.

"You love me?" Adora sounds like she's still processing the information, shocked and confused. Catra laughs wetly.

"You're such an idiot,"

"I love you too,"

Fuck Shadow Weaver, fuck her insecurities. She doesn't deserve Adora, and she's sure she'll hurt her again, but should she be the one deciding that? if Adora decides that she loves Catra, who's she to argue?

Catra leans in, her heart going haywire.

Fuck everyone else. It's just her and Adora.

Adora meets her lips halfway, hand reaching up to cup Catra's face as she pulls her impossibly close. It's so gentle and sweet and surreal, and Catra wants to feel like that forever, and Adora's so soft and perfect. Catra can't breathe, and she doesn't want to. She wants to stay there, in Adora's arms, forever.

It's just her and Adora.

[shadowknight465]

The Wrath of Life

Light. Light of all colours in rainbow except for purple.  Surrounded by a golden aura. It was beautiful yet he is afraid.  When he tried to touch it. It burned him. Causing him screech a unholy sound with repeated phrases like. "Sinful creature and True spawn of hell."

There was a knock at the door.

Do these people have a life outside of bullying me?

He thought as he opened the door.  Except that the person was not who he is expecting, in fact he doesn't think he has ever seen him before. Before he could the stranger's name. He barge in straight to the guest room. "What a lovely house you two have, Nightmare." He said putting down his things . "Do you mind if you can run hot bath for me?" He asked.

"Um. First of all I don't even know you.  Second you can't just go to people's houses and expect them to treat you like royalty. " He said crossing his arms. The stranger look at him. "I thought Dream already told you about me." Nightmare thought of what Dream said before he left. "Neil?"

"That's me."

"Hold on if you are really Neil then give me proof."

Neil removed his cloak. Revealing that the cat has lost an arm. Nightmare felt guilty.  " Don't put on a sad face little boy.  You are just being protective of your home, and that I applaud you." Neil woke Nightmare with his thoughts. Neil then smile. " I guess I forgot that Dream told me you're not very trustful with strangers." Neil scratch his head "Speaking of which ,  Do you happen to know a person name Hubert Cumberdale or better known as Salad Fingers?" Nightmare gulped.  It's been awhile since he seen Hurbert his first and possibly only friend.  Last time he ever saw him was the time he had to take Hubert to the asylum. "Yes. I've know him." He answered. 

"Hubert wanted me tell you thank you." Neil responded.

"For what?" Nightmare asked.  He doesn't remember giving Hubert any kindness in fact he thinks what he did was horrible. "Because of your actions Huber is now married with a beautiful wife they had a lovely child." Neil responded.  Nightmare sigh in relief. " So I was worry  for nothing?"

"Yup. Now can you please run me a hot bath?" Neil responded. Nightmare decided this time he would run him as hot bath.

~~~~~

Dinner was not like what he was expecting.  Instead of him cooking it was Neil. But at least it was good. Baked beans with roasted ham. With a cup of wine. He felt comfortable knowing the person living with him for a while is friendly. "Hey Night, what time is it.?" Neil asked. Nightmare looked outside. "Well it is dark." He said. "Well time for me to hit the sack." Neil got up and went to his bedroom. 

Maybe I should go to sleep as well.

Nightmare thought. He took of his shirt. Brush his teeth with a dry corn cob. And went the his bed.  Falling asleep as soon his head hit the pillow. However instead of his normal nightmares this one felt wrong. He was wearing the same clothes Moon was except it was mostly black and sliver. He has markings all of him and he was behind a female paladin. Her skin was kissed by the sun itself. Her short hair looks like fire and her eyes were a red and yellow gradient.

"Sun. Is something wrong?" He spoke, but it wasn't his voice.  The paladin said nothing. "Sun?" The paladin turn with a flaming sword in her hand. "What are you doing?" He said backing away slowly, but the girl's eyes turned snake-like. And she jumped to him. Stabbing him with her blade. He quickly got the blade off of him screaming.  "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" The girl didn't answer.  Instead she showed her snake-like fangs smiling. He knew this was a fight so he summoned his unprepared scythe. The girl called for help claiming Moon was a traitor again and all the women that came looks familiar.  "But Sun. Didn't Moon said-" One of girls tried the reason. "She lied to us again." She cut her off. Nightmare felt betrayal, but he doesn't understand why. None of the girls responded and attacked him. One tore his mask and shot him in his missing eye with a arrow.  A mix of magic and weapons overpowered him. He knows he can kill everyone if he takes his gloves, but he made a vow to never used his bare hands. So he decided to do the next self defense.  By placing a cursed on them. One where they are trapped in limbo. He place his scythe on the ground and chant in latin. However the paladin attacked him in the back. He felt his life draining from him as he hears a man scream. "Mi Nina." He shut his eyes for the final time with the feeling of wrath and sorrow.

Nightmare woke up in a cold sweat. As he looked around he saw that the scythe Moon gave him was with breaking. Eventually turning a bit bigger with a moth at the bottom. 

What just happened?

He thought. Maybe another vision? He eventually fell back to sleep. He'll think about it in the morning.

~~~~

The autumn harvest festival has arrived and Nightmare put on his more regal garment. Neil was getting a few beers and the townsfolk had forgot he existed.  He was thinking about looking into the lore of the festival until a mysterious stanger showed up wearing strange garments.  She was pretty however.  Skin that was kiss by the sun, flaming hair that's been put up by a high ponytail.  A gold-red mask covering half her face, but not fully her scar. 

The priest was the first to got up to her. "Hello madam." He said.

"Olá" She responded.  "Huh?"

"I said hello in my native tongue." She answered.

"Oh. Anyways  What a pretty thing like you brings in our beautiful village?" He said.

Here he goes again trying to groom someone.

Nightmare thought as he rolled his eyes.  He look at her again and felt off. Like he met her before.

It wasn't long till she spotted him. She walks towards him.  Later squinting her eye. "M-Moonie?" She asked almost crying. Nightmare felt awkward.  "No, I'm Nightmare." He said. She blinked. "Oh my mistake, you just reminded me of an old friend of mine." She said as she walk away whispering "Eu sinto Muito.". 

Why do I feel unsafe around her?

Nightmare asked himself.

"You best keep an eye on her." Nightmare heard a familiar voice.  He turned and saw Nox in disguise.

"What are you doing here?" Nightmare asked. "Errands." Nox reply.

"Hey, Nox can I have a word with you?" Nightmare asked. Nox set the large sack he was carrying down. "What is it?"

"That's scythe Moon gave me.  Is it perhaps any chance curse?"

"What makes you say that?" Nox reply. "Last night I had a dream where I was murdered.  But it wasn't me at all." Nightmare answer. "Maybe the scythe didn't like you." Nox said. Nightmare could feel the jealous aura coming from Nox.

What's make that scythe so important to him?

He thought. "I think there's something that you're not telling me.  In fact ever since we first met I could sense you have some grudge against me and I don't know why." Nightmare said. Nox glared at him than he towered over him getting ready to punch him. Yet he didn't.  Instead he just sighed. "Moon's soul stuck in it. And I don't want anything bad happen to him." Nightmare had seen this behavior before.  In both real life and in his books mostly his romantic novels. "Are you telling me that you're..." Nightmare begin. "No. Not like that." Nox begins to plea. "In love with him?.." Nightmare finished.  He's no love expert, but  He can tell Nox is in love with Moon. Nox blushed a purple hue before covering his face. "Look me and Moon first met we had a rocky beginning.  I was task with killing death by W.D Gaster. I would have succeeded if that man didn't spot me. When we met again  It turns out that both of us aren't so different after all and.." Nox stops himself and put his arm around his chest. "He was the only person I could talk to about these feelings of hate on being born with a uncomfortable body." Even though Nightmare can't understand he felt bad for Nox. "So what do you think about that dream I had? Does it mean something?" Nightmare asked trying to change the subject.  "I don't know myself. And I read all of Moon's books and scrolls." Nox answered. Nightmare watch Nox pack up. "Where are you going?" Nightmare asked. "Home. Hecate freaks out being alone at midnight." Nox replied. Nightmare took a breath.  Then music became louder and more vibrant, with the lights and fire becoming brighter and more warm. He turn and saw the stranger dancing with the strong man. Something doesn't seem right. Usually the strong man would refuse to dance for anyone, but the little girl he was targeting.  And he could've swore he saw scales of a snake on the stranger. The stranger later took the man to a small alley.  Nightmare thought that the man is just showing her around town. So he didn't pay much attention. He decided to try out the bobbing for apples he saw a couple of people did.  He should known better than to trust everyone when they pushed his head into the water. Luckily the little ones are making smores next to its fire they made themselves so maybe he can rest there.  As he headed to the campfire the little boy with the abusive mother grabbed him. "Nightmare, I don't feel comfortable with that girl."

"What girl?" Nightmare asked.

"The girl dancing with my mom." The boy pointed out. Nightmare took a look and saw that the stranger with the boy's mother.

Wasn't she with the strong man?

He thought. He turned to boy. "I'll keep a close eye on them while you have fun with your friends. Alright?" The boy nodded. Nightmare walks towards the dancers, but made sure that both of them can't spot him. He watch as the stranger convinced the abusive mother to go to the alley. Once there the stranger carefully removed the other woman's clothes. Nightmare thought they were going to court with each other so he turned away embarrassed. Even if he wasn't there the two women would eventually be found, and be hanged for committing homosexuality witchcraft. He left to tell the boy he might be getting two moms if they can convince the court. To his surprise the boy didn't pay no mind to it. In fact the boy just ask if it's okay with God. He doesn't know how reply due to him not being religious.  So they change the topic. Eventually Nightmare forgot about the stranger. Later he got tried and decided he had enough partying for tonight. As he went back home he heard a scream next to him. He turn to where the scream was and saw the unimaginable.

Everyone that danced with the stanger died in pools of blood and a demon snake mantis fire thing licking some from her hands. Nightmare backed away slowly until a woman scream caught the creature's attention. She smile and dash past Nightmare and grabbed the woman and begins to feast on her. By making her paralyze with the vemon in her fangs. Then she gutted her with her teeth. Later riping her limb from limb until she was nothing more than a pool of blood. Worst of all everyone saw it. While Nightmare ran.

Is that a Solarite?

He thought, but someone grabbed him and push him towards her. The Solerite took notice and held him down. Nightmare closed his eyes and hope that the death will be quick, except it never came. Instead she froze in place and is beginning to cry blood. Then stopped. "Você conhece o Nim?" She said.

"W-What?" Nightmare asked. "I said. Do you know Nim? You know that apple tree dryad?" She said.

"Yes. She's my mother." He said. She glared, but not at him. "Essa vadia...I know she would do this. But never to her own son."  She muttered.  "Nightmare, did you summoned this..thing?" A man yelled. "No. I barely even kno-" He was cut off. "As if you weren't evil enough you destroyed a sacred ceremony. " Nightmare look down.

Are they that stupid?

He thought. "Wait, I cause the massacre.  Not him. And how is he a part of it?" The solerite asked. "Didn't he summoned you?" Someone else asked. "No. I came by going on a boat by myself. " She answered.  "Well he bleeds black blood." A woman said. "I have a close friend who bleeds black blood and he would never harm someone unless he has too or is provoked." She replied. The solarite stood up and allowed Nightmare to stand up. Then she put her hand on his shoulder.  Surprisingly it didn't burn him. "Are you a scapegoat?" She asked. Nightmare took a deep breath.  "Yes." She turns to village.  "Raise your hand if you still think he cause the massacre?" Not surprisingly almost all of village raise their hands. "Good thing my pets love barbecues." She whispered. "Now come to me if you think he is innocent." All the children and some of villagers came forward despite their loved ones pleas and threats. She came up to them and pat them all on their heads. Later did the same to Nightmare. "Who are you?" Someone said. The solarite smile. "I am the wrath of life." She said as she turns into a snake and begins slithering away. Many tried catch her, but she was too fast. And those that did hands were burnt to a crisp. Nightmare took the opportunity to run. He went home grabbed Moon's scythe and spent the night at the in-hill. Planning to talk to Moon about her and about that dream.

[garbagefieri]

you're a good man, mr byrde.

Chapter Two: The Hotel Pool

(also on a03)

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

"I haven't smoked pot in…awhile." Ellis ceases tapping her foot on the concrete of the hotel pool area and looks at Marty sitting in the white plastic chair next to her. He's holding what remains of her joint and he looks relaxed for the first time she's seen. He gives her the last few hits of the joint and she accepts it, starting to smoke. "Yeah? Glad I could help. You're much more handsome when your face is relaxed." Marty smiles a little and notices Ellis is fidgety again, tapping her foot. He sighs before standing up from his chair and scooting it as close as possible to Ellis' chair. After he sits back down, he gently sets his hand on her thigh, his fingers flexing against her warm skin when he feels her body heat. She stops moving her leg up and down and widens her legs so his fingers just barely brush her inner thigh. Marty asks softly, "You alright? Ruth didn't tell me much about your ex, but based on your black eye, I assume he was an asshole." Ellis crushes the end of the spent joint into the ashtray on the wicker table next to her and exhales for a long second. "He expected me to stay home all day and be content with him doing cocaine off of his assistant's fake tits. And this is after I moved to that rich goddamn suburb for him. I said fuck that, he did this to my face, I called Ruth." 

Ellis sighs deeply after regaling Marty with the story of her black eye, slumping forward a bit. Marty pats her leg and clears his throat, pulling his hand away and back to his own lap. "I'm sorry, Ellis. He sounds like a prick." She nods and stands up, fanning her tanned face. "How is it still so hot? It's night time." Marty isn't feeling the heat, but his face reddens when Ellis lets her dark hair down from its ponytail, loosely braiding it over her right shoulder as Marty takes a deeper breath than he was prepared for. He watches her fingers and suddenly realizes how high he is. Ellis turns around, notices he is staring, and grins sweetly. She pulls her loose black t shirt over her head and Marty's eyes fall to her chest and stomach. Her breasts are bigger than any he's ever had the pleasure of touching, a thought that he dwells on for a second too long. He can see the solid peaks of her nipples inside the triangle fabric of her yellow suit top and his eyes widen slightly when she slips her jean shorts off. Ellis has a flat stomach, curvy hips and her ass fits perfectly in the black underwear she's wearing.  Marty's face is stop sign red at this point, and he barely catches the hotel room towel Ellis throws at him. "I'm getting in. Wanna come?" Marty sets her towel aside and shakes his head, watching her ass as she descends the white plastic ladder into the pool.

While Ellis swims, Marty heads back to his room to grab his bottle of whiskey. There are two plastic cups on the bathroom sink, and he grabs those as well. As he turns off the bathroom light, he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. His reflection looks more relaxed than he has in a long time. Being away from Missouri looks good on him. Or, maybe he's just at ease for the first time in awhile.  On a whim he takes his shoes and socks off, grabbing a towel and leaving his room barefoot. He can hear Ruth snoring through the walls. For just a second he thinks of how mad she would be to see him checking out her former babysitter. He smirks as his eyes focus on Ellis leaning on the edge of the hotel pool. She's gazing up at him and he quickens his pace down the stairs to her.

"What are we toasting to, Marty?"  His eyes don't leave the plastic cup full of whiskey as he says, "Ladies choice." Ellis sets her wet hand atop of his and gently takes his cup from it, catching his eyes as she steals his drink. "To my new friend Marty Byrde. Thanks for the rescue." Marty takes her forgotten cup and drinks the contents down quickly, his eyes leaving hers only once. Ellis laughs and does the same, ducking underwater and tossing her empty cup at Marty once she surfaces again. He catches it and gets splashed, berating her sharply, "Damn it, Ellis! You got me fucking wet." Ellis pulls her wet hair over her shoulder and swims closer to the edge where Marty is sitting. "Come in here, Marty. I'll get you fuckin' wet." She grins and her lips look black in the low light, but Marty slides down from his chair anyway. He had to be closer to her.

Ellis is playing with something real, she feels. Or maybe it was a combination of the weed and the alcohol. Either way, her skin started tingling when she first imagined Marty in the pool with her, and it hasn't stopped. He's sitting on the edge now, his bare feet in the water and his shorts pulled up a bit so as to not get wet. "Are you going to miss Texas?" Ellis swims to the edge of the pool and grabs the whiskey bottle from the edge next to Marty. She feels his eyes on her while she takes a deep pull from the bottle before taking it into the deeper water with her. She says after a long minute of silence, "No. The only person I cared about here fucked me over. I miss Osage. I miss my grandma, god rest her soul. I'm so happy to have Ruth back, but I miss that whole town. The dive bar where I used to work, going and visiting Wyatt when he and Three were little, tourist season…" She trails off and takes another drink while Marty asks, "Why tourist season?" Ellis grins and Marty's eyes focus on her mouth again. "I got laid a lot. Everyone wants to fuck the local with the good pot. Estelle grew it behind our house. Pretty sure she paid off the cops. Anyway, I did particularly well with the college girls wanting to experiment and the stoners." Marty laughs shortly and says, "Alright, I'll be sure to point some your way." Ellis splashes him and says while laughing, "No thank you, Mr Byrde. I'm 32. I don't need to chase anyone. It's been awhile since anyone's been anywhere near my downstairs." She takes a long drink of whiskey and passes it to Marty who says quietly, "Yeah? Shame." Before Ellis really registers what he said, he finishes off the last bit of whiskey and sets the bottle aside. Ellis smiles slowly and swims a bit closer to him.

"You're really not going to come in here with me?" Marty shakes his head and grins at the exaggerated pout Ellis has on her pale face. She swims closer to him yet and he asks, "Did you expect me to just strip down and get in?" He watches Ellis grins before she says, "I didn't expect you to strip, no." Ellis squeezes some water out of her hair and shrugs, then comes to stand around a foot away from Marty in the pool. His legs are open and he glances down between his legs to see her panties under the water only an arm's reach away from his form. Marty can sense where this is going and he sighs before saying, "I shouldn't." Ellis sees the hesitation on his face and she sets her wet hand on his knee before asking, "But do you want to? You don't seem like the kinda guy who gets a chance to do whatever you want very often. It's fun. Feels good." Ellis takes her hand back from his knee and looks him in the eyes. "Come in here, with me." He doesn't even hesitate this time, pulling off his shirt and sliding into the pool. His head goes under and the world is quiet.

Marty surfaces only when he feels the need to breathe burning his lungs. Ellis is swimming nearby with a large smile on her pretty face. As he rubs the water from his eyes, Ellis swims closer to him and his own smile grows as she grasps his shoulders. He swims backwards out of her grasp and says, "It is pretty refreshing. Definitely sobering. You happy now?" Marty finds his eyes glued to her black eye for a second too long. She seems to notice and says softly, "Happier than I've been in awhile." Marty extends his hand out to her in the water, resting it on her pale shoulder. "I'm sorry that prick hurt you. Men are shitty, I know." Ellis softly sets her hand on his atop her shoulder and murmurs, "You're not."

Marty breathes in deeply and looks into Ellis' eyes as she wraps her arms around his neck and backs him into the pool wall. He winces as his back hits the concrete and Ellis kisses his cheek to soothe him, murmuring into his ear, "Sorry, Mr Byrde. I'll make it up to you if you'll let me." Before he can register what she said and what she meant with her dark eyes shining in the light, her legs wrap around his waist. She crosses her ankles behind his back as he moves closer to her, bumping into her thighs awkwardly once and closing his eyes for a second. "Ellis…" Ellis pushes her hips into his and kisses his other cheek. She says nothing, but squeezes her legs until his body is flush with hers. She's still quiet, but he can't seem to be. "Ellis. Come on, we're in a hotel pool in the middle of the night." She nods once and rests her forehead against his. Marty closes his eyes once he hears her say quietly, "You can touch me. If you want." He lets his hands come to hold onto her shapely behind, exhaling shallowly when he squeezes her ass for the first time. Of course he wants to touch her. After another firm squeeze, he lets his head fall to her shoulder and presses his lips against it once. Ellis is perfectly still as she feels his mouth on the crook of her neck. She barely hears him say into her  shoulder, "I haven't touched anyone in so fucking long. You're so damn soft."

And suddenly, it's different. What started with some smiles and extended eye contact between Ellis and him has evolved into whatever this is. She's still wrapped around him, but she's just holding him now. Marty's head is buried in the side of her neck and Ellis is breathing in and out slowly, trying to get him to relax. Once he does, she can feel him almost slump against her. She holds him a little tighter and presses her lips to his head before asking, "You alright?" Marty nods against her shoulder and squeezes her a little tighter. He's about to answer her when he hears a screen door swing open with a creak. "Hey, pool closed at 9. Have to ask y'all to get out and take your fun somewheres else," a male voice calls from the direction of the hotel's main building. Ellis slips down and out of Marty's grip before he can stop her.

Nothing is said as they get out of the pool. The man running the front desk of the hotel is watching them from the other side of the closed screen door and Ellis flips him off as she dries her body off with her towel. She silently turns and locks eyes with Marty as she rubs the towel on her chest, her nipples obvious after the scratchy hotel towel brushes over them. He doesn't look away, but he pulls his shirt over his head and sighs once the eye contact is broken. Ellis wraps the towel around her waist and finally breaks the silence between them. "I guess it's bedtime." Marty nods and rubs his towel on his head, leaving his hair messy but drier. Gesturing for Ellis to go up the stairs first, he follows her lead silently. When she's close to halfway up the stairs, Marty places his hand on the small of her back. Ellis doesn't react in a way that he can see, but a small smile crosses her face. 

They walk side by side down the hall to their rooms, Marty's hand warm against the cool skin of Ellis' lower back. She stops and turns around to face him in front of her hotel room door. Ellis just smiles and asks quietly, "Do I get a good night kiss?" Marty doesn't hesitate, but presses his lips against her forehead instead of her mouth. He leaves his mouth pressed against her warm skin for a moment and she stays still. Ellis grins and, when he pulls away, says, "I'd invite you in, but…" Marty nods and murmurs, "I understand. Goodnight, Ellis." She slips into her room quietly. Marty can hear Ruth's snores from inside the room and he smiles to himself as he unlocks his room.

He lasts half an hour before giving himself permission to palm his hard cock and imagine Ellis. It's nothing pornographic, though. Just her in her too short shorts and bikini top. She smiles at him softly, and he realizes her black eye is healed. Marty sighs deeply to himself and he comes within two minutes.

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

[mystic-scripture]

#15 for your HARD OTP. The pairing you feel in your soul. Mystic, I'm letting you absolutely indulge!!! (lol can't wait to see what you write)

15. A gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss (Couple: Spendy (Wendy Durant x Spencer Reid)

Wendy walked to the elevator, heels in one hand as she rubbed at the back of her neck with the other. The bullpen was dark, meaning she most likely was the last person in, aside from maybe Hotch, but even he disappears upon occasion for food. Her stomach growled reminding her of her own mission for sustenance. The hunger pangs began about an hour ago, but she had reports to finish. 

Today had been one of the good days as much as it had been one of the bad. Three children were finally reunited with their parents while five lived on forever as fertilizer for roses. The former cyber terrorist agent was happy that she and JJ could finally bring closure to the mother of Charlie, a victim of eight years. Wendy smiled to herself, the elevator doors closing after she pushed the button for the lobby. Even the wonder boy of statistical facts was moved, not that he knew he saw her conversation with said mother. 

The ride to her apartment was quicker than she’d anticipated, given her mind couldn’t decide on anything nearby, and a tickling memory of some leftover Alfredo in her fridge. Turning the key, she stepped through the threshold, instantly repeating the process of discarding her footwear. Placing her bag on the table, and hanging her keys, Wendy turned to find an even better ending to the day than she would have hoped for. 

The living room flickered in warm candlelight, apple cinnamon spices wafting toward her. Soft, classical music was playing form the stereo, accompanied by low humming from the kitchen. She was so tired she hadn’t seen the second set of keys hanging next to the door. The kitchen light dimmed as a tall figure walked through the doorway, two bowls in hand, forks tucked under them. There was no surprise at her arrival, and no stop in his efforts until he’d placed the reminisced pasta dish on the coffee table. 

“Hotch mentioned seeing your car on the way out.” Spencer said, clearing his throat as he turned to meet her gaze. “Figured you’d be hungry.” 

She felt herself relax, having tensed at seeing she wasn’t alone in her home. This job got to hall of them a little too much sometimes. Her hand dropped from where it rested on her Glock, sending her boyfriend an easy smile. 

“Don’t tell me you waited for me.” She teased, looking at the second bowl. “I wasn’t even expecting you here tonight.” 

He shrugged, running a hand through his tangled tresses. “Not so much waited for you as god distracted doing other things. Your office is finally back to your standards by the way, sorry for never cleaning that up.” 

Wendy smiled, shaking her head as she pulled her tight ponytail from her hair, letting the slowly forming headache recede slightly. “No worries, I know how you get when you need to find something, case or no case.” 

She made her way over to him, leaning up onto her toes to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek before falling into the couch. The food was still pretty hot, but her stomach lacked a desire to care, and her mouth was used to being burned due to her impatience. Spencer followed her, eating with a little less vigor, and letting her decompress from the day. The two sat in a comfortable silence until Wendy had finished her food, leaning back with a sigh, and thankfully accepting the offered glass of wine. 

“You know, I do have to tease you a little, Sparky.” She started, taking a thoughtful sip before turning the glass in her hand. “I now you have an eidetic memory and all, but sometimes your use of it can be overkill.”

“When did I even use it around you today?” He said, surprisingly not offended. Instead, playful smile stretched across his face as he raised an eyebrow at her. “You were spying on me at work again?”

“It’s not spying if, as you just pointed out, we work in the same place and each happened to have been working in the same hallway.” She countered, pointing at him to emphasis her point. 

“A technicality.” He muttered, placing a hand on her ankles after she stretched her legs over his. 

“A fact.” She insisted. “But that just goes to my point, you are so married to your work that you don’t realize it sometimes.” 

“What makes you say that?” He asked, still unsure of where she was going with this. 

“ 5 years, 7 months, and 19 days? I mean really, Spence? I’m surprised you didn’t count down to the exact time.” Wendy said, sighing as he absently rubbed at the bottom of her feet. “I doubt there is anything else from that office that you keep track of with the same-.”

“4 years, 5 months, 12 days, thirteen hours and six minutes.” He interrupted her, making her eyes widen. “Give or take about 20 seconds or so...black flats, grey dress slacks, and a purple sweater.”

“What are you even talking about?” She said, lost in his warm hands, and pouting when he stopped his massage pull her up towards him. “Hey! That was, oh.”

She stopped herself upon seeing the serious look upon his face. She could barely hear him as he continued to go about their first meeting in embarrassingly intricate detail. He had it all, even down to the transferal paperwork in her hand, along with her credentials for editing. Instead, she watched his face, smiling to herself as she took in the different micro-expressions she’d grown to know and love. When he finished, she almost hadn’t noticed, too lost in the softness of his eyes, and the way his hands tried to draw it in front of him. Then her eyes went to his lips which had stopped moving.

“You’re still talking about work.” She deflected, pulling her legs up so that she was sitting upright next to him, and setting her drink down. She backtracked with a shy smile, admitting, “I didn’t think you noticed me like that then.”

“You say that like it was even possible to.” He said, shrugging. “It wasn’t every day I met a smart, pretty girl, that read and understood what I wrote. I didn’t even know that a girl like you could have existed until-” 

Wendy smiled, at that, pulling at his loosened tie to meet his lips to hers. The kiss was short and soft, more to get him to stop talking than anything else. She could almost hear the unsaid ‘what’ fall from his slightly parted lips. 

“I love you, you know that?” She said, wrapping her arms around his neck as he grinned widely, opening his mouth further to answer. “Don’t answer that with whatever you are thinking.”

He shook his head, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that she was the one that asked in the first place, dipping his head down to meet her in a longer, more meaningful kiss.

Yeah, today was definitely a good day. 

Tagging my Wendy crew! @perfectlystiles @kcnobls @starcrossedjedis @raging-violets @curious-kittens-ocs (Want to be added? HMU)

Send me a Pairing and a Fictional Kiss!

[boneandfur]

The Mask of Fate

Summary: when Bryce and Ari visit the Museum of Fine Arts, they make a startling discovery. Is the past truly the past? Or will Fate lend a hand? // Notes: Inspired by an edit made for me by @choicesarehard (at beginning of chapter). Much thanks and love goes to my writing pals, without whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are. // Words: 1470 // Song: Jenny of Oldstones by Florence Welch // Pairings: Bryce x MC, Ethan x ? //Rating: though this first chapter is only rated T, the rest of the work will have a hard and fast EXPLICIT 18+ rating. //AUTHOR's NOTE: if you enjoyed this, don't forget to like, comment & reblog!

PROLOGUE

Present Day

"Nox habet quod dies perdidit.” (Night holds what day has lost) -- Seneca.

"Tell me why you dragged me to a dusty museum on this nice, sunny day again?" Bryce laughs as Ari pays for their tickets, fixing her with a charming smile. "We could be out there playing Ultimate Frisbee."

"There's something I want you to see. Come on, slow poke." Ari digs her finger into Bryce's ribs, tickling him. "Eek!" The nearest museum docent, a girl with bright pink hair and a grandma cardigan, turns to stare as Bryce pulls Ari into his arms and rubs his nose against hers.

"There's more where that came from later, you beautiful, infuriating thing." His voice is a thing of beauty: honey and the echo of the tides, blowing over the bare flesh and warming her, like a tropical breeze blowing through the palms beside a white sand shore. "Doctor Riversong. Now, what's this special surprise?"

Ari tosses one dark ponytail over her shoulder, and winks, beckoning Bryce towards a door near a statue of Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine. "I know a guy."

•••

The back room of the museum is entirely too dusty for his tastes, and climate controlled. They couldn't have splurged for an upgrade? Bryce is wishing at this point that he'd thought to bring a wool sweater, he certainly owns enough of them living in the Northeast.

"Cold, Dr Lahela?" There's something about this 'guy' that sets all the hairs on the back of Bryce's neck distinctly on end, for all of his friendly manner.

"How do you know each other again?" Bryce barely moves his lips against Ari's ear, and yet Raines responds, his voice a liquid dark thing, smooth as a hand grasping silk sheets in pleasure -- or exquisite pain.

"Let's just say we have a mutual interest." Raines lays his hand over a panel on the door, and it slides open.

The smell of the little room is fresh and bright, like citrus and sunshine, for all its cramped space. Ari tugs at his hand, and Bryce allows himself to be led to a long aisle, made up of glass cases. Inside are the bric-a-brac of a world gone by, ranging from iron sickle knives to a doll with stone eyes, a child's plaything. Each has a small label, dated anywhere from 2000 BCE to 1600 CE.

Bryce moves along the glass cases, peering at the minutiae of lives lived thousands of years in the past. Ari has moved beyond him, talking with Raines. All of a sudden, he stops. There, in the case, is a bull's horn, gilded and flaking, bored with holes in a line. He knows what it is even before Raines speaks. "A bullroarer."

"Yes, you certainly know your history, Dr Lahela!" Raines sounds faintly amused, and Bryce feels soured, though nothing in Raines's manner is condescending.

He feels that he must have it, he must touch it. It's mine, Bryce thinks, although he knows it cannot be. He can almost feel the weight of the thing in his hands, and he knows the low roar it would make as it swoops through the air.

"From the height of the Minoan Empire, about 1600 BCE. That particular item was found in the ruins of the Palace at Knossos."

"You mean, like the Minotaur and Icarus?" Bryce takes a step back from the glass, although it pains him to do so. "That's just a myth. I'm a doctor. We believe in science, and what we can prove."

"You can't prove anything here, Doctor Lahela. These human memories, how precious, how fleeting they are." Somehow, it sounds like an incantation.

Raines removes a teak chest from one of the cases, weathered by time. The bronze lock crumbles in his hand. When he opens the case, the scent of labdanum is in the room, sweet and dark as vanilla and rich earth, like a woman who has just sat down after a bath, combing oil through her thick dark locks.

He then draws out a wax tablet, mummified and preserved by the centuries. "This was found in the ruins of old Ostia, buried under the foundations of a house near the shore. Some fishermen dragged it up in their nets in the late nineteenth century. It is a miracle it still exists."

"What does it say?" Ari strokes one fingertip over the lettering, entranced.

Raines raises a brow, reading aloud. "'Is that a stirgil in your toga, or are you just happy to see me?' Some things never change. Moving on..."

As Ari and Raines move on to the next case, Bryce hangs back. There is something about the teak case that fascinates him, like a medical curiosity. He crouches down level with the box. On the inside, there is lettering in Latin, almost too faint to make out. Medicae... Numidia. Something glints in the box, and Bryce removes it carefully.

It is a scalpel made of polished bronze, etched on one side with a drawing of a boy leaping over a bull, like the fresco he saw back in the hallway. When the world was new, when myths were made, oracles were spoken, and gods walked among men.

The smell of labdanum is back, and black storax, thick and sweet as the guava paste his mother would make for mochi. In the polished bronze, Bryce can almost see a woman, staring back at him down the centuries, dark eyed and skinned.

She was a medicae... of Numidia. At the house with the sign of Epione. In Ostia, where the blood oranges grow.

Bryce can almost see her turn her head to meet his eyes, as if to say:

Remember.

•••

In Ostia, there is a blood orange tree, under the sign of Epione, the goddess of healing. She is called Felicitas by the Romans, and her high priestess never turns a soul from her temple door. Harper grew up on the streets of Subura, back in Rome, where she learned the art of the medicae. She came to the port city of Ostia nearly two decades past, back when she was yet a girl, back when the blood orange tree was only a sapling, a reminder of the home she would never return to.

At night, when the locusts sing in the trees and the priestesses of that stone house wash the doorstep with salt water, Harper's lover comes to her in dreams. She will wake in the dawn-light, when the sun has not yet risen over the bay, and listen for the song of the nightingale; just as it sang beside their bedroom window, back in Subura, when they were young together.

(Back before the Legion, back before Ostia, before her hair began to turn gray, before her bones started to ache when the seas turn green with the coming storm.)

Beside her, the bed is cold, the place where he would lie is empty. Harper will roll over in her bed and reach beneath it for a chest made of teak and ebony, filled with the scrolls he has sent her. Each is like a precious jewel, a memory, hoarded and kept sacred. She will take out one at time, into the courtyard to break her fast.

(With sweet wine from Hispania, and blood oranges.)

Harper breaks the wax seal of the letter with a flick of her fingertip, and she smells the scent of him, her man; as though he sits beside her at the table, drinking watered wine and eating sticky figs, his deep blue eyes never leaving her face.

You get this crinkle between your eyes when you think too hard, my love, he will whisper, and press his thumb there, caressing the strain away.

(But like the space beside her in bed, Harper is alone at the table. She does not like to think about how many years it has been, or how many lines she can see beside her eyes in the beaten bronze mirror.)

She unrolls the carrying case carefully, wind and salt have done their wear and tear on the waxen leather packet. Out of the case falls a spring of fauna, and Harper carefully crumbles it in her palm, holding it to her nose to breathe in the strange scent. It is not a plant she knows, or has ever known before. If she did not know him better, she would think that he had a lover out there, in the far flung reaches of the Empire, and she would not blame him: it has been years since last they held one another.

(Yet a promise is a promise, and she has kept it, in her fashion.)

Under the same stars, in some far-flung corner of the Empire, Harper can picture him: sitting at his writing desk beneath his hospital tent, her man:

Ethus...

[lightshelldarkyoak]

Part 2: Moon Crossed Lovers

"WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!", Hades screams from the top of his corroded lungs as he tries to claw Hou Yi in half.  Hou Yi responds in kind while loosing arrow after arrow into Hades's shapeless form, "ABOMINATION'S FIRST!", said Hou Yi. Ever since Hades revealed his true form to Hou Yi the only sound heard in the distance has been that of battle.  Souls of the damned screaming in agony as they are forced to aide their master in pinning down the lone marksman. The fleet-footed marksman himself manages to dodge their un-dead grasp with ease, unleashing volleys of flaming arrows into the night while hes at it. Most would assume this battle of titans's to be a stalemate. Unfortunately though for Hades, Hou Yi was starting to get the upper hand. The heavenly marksman trained with the bow ceaselessly, even before acquiring the Raven Bow. Not even one day went by without training being involved in his daily regimen. Meanwhile, Hades lead a very sedentary lifestyle by simply sitting on his throne, watching the River Styx flow by, and listening to the throes of anguish as Cerberus mutilated those who dared to unlawfully exit or enter the underworld. thus with this grand difference in both ability and tempered skill the battle seemed to be nearing its end. however unbeknownst to both gods, a third more graceful goddess was about to make her way into the fray.

  Still deep within the caverns, a simple argument was ensuing over direction and pride: Chang'e: are you sure we're going the right way Mon? The Moon Rabbit: yes madam , if you follow me through this path here we'll make it to the surface in no time. Chang'e: That what you said the first time Mon. Not only did we not make it back to the surface,  it took us an extra two hours to make it back to the camp!

The Moon Rabbit: NOW LISTEN HERE MISSY! I may be an old moon rabbit but I still have pride in my animal instincts! and theses rabbit ears of mine heard a sound this way!

Chang'e: ugh, very well Mon.

The Moon Rabbit: That is another issue!

Chang'e: Hmmm?

The Moon Rabbit: why do you call me Mon?

Chang'e: Well your name is The Moon Rabbit correct?

The Moon Rabbit: YES IT IS INDEED I, THE ALMIGHTY MOON RABBIT! Chang'e: .........

The Moon Rabbit: (The most trolling look you can Imagine) 

Chang'e: ....Well your name is too long

The Moon Rabbit: Its my name madame

Chang'e: I like Mon better, its cute! 

Moon Rabbit: b-but madame

Chang'e: yes Mon?

Moon R. : I-

Chang'e: Yeessssss Mon?

Moon: ......I don't have much of a choice do I?

Chang'e: *shakes her head and brandishes a smile so bright it lights up the cavern* nope!

Mon: *sighs* very well, from this point on I shall be....Mon.....

Chang'e: Splendid! now lead the way Mon!

Mon: Uuuuuuuuugggghhh ..........!

  "Madame, I believe we are nearing the origin of the sound I heard not long ago, as well as the surface!" Mon explained with glee. A sparkle had returned to Chang'e eyes that Mon could only remember seeing when he first met her on the moon's surface. Granted, this sparkle shines much brighter for two reasons. Not only does Chang'e have a chance to finally look at the planet where most of her memories lie, she may finally get to see her beloved after so much time has transpired. "Now madam I must warn you of the dangers that are out-", before Mon could get a word in, Chang'e dashed into the open now dawn with reckless abandon. Hope and joy welling in her heart she bellowed, "MY BELOVED, I AM HERE!"

Dashing out into the sea of tranquility, Chang'e stretched her arms to feel the solar winds flowing through her kimono and kicking moon rocks along the way just for fun. eventually, she came to a stop and properly started stretching. In the process of all this stretching she knocked off what was most likely a millennia's worth of space dust from her kimono. Mon not exactly too enthused with all the dust, begins to have a sneezing fit because of it. Chang'e notices Mon's discomfort and performs an elegant crescent spin move that knocks all the surrounding dust away in one fell swoop. as She leans down to brush some dust off the rabbit's muzzle she asks, "Mon are you alright?" Mon replies, "I'll be fine madam, but we have bigger dilemmas to tackle". Chang'e responds with a quizzical look and tone, "where?" Mon simply points and says, "look". Chang'e looks in the direction Mon pointed, at first she can't make it out because of how bright it is compared to the caverns. Eventually her eyes adjust and after a bit of squinting she sees them, but most importantly him. His red scarf, long flowing ponytail, his distinct headdress, his eyes burning with determination to go beyond his limits, and finally his bow of feather and steel shining like a lighthouse in the distance on this vast ocean of rock and sand. overcome with emotion, she wailed one name: "HOOOUUU YIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"

Back to Chang'e and Mon, they were watching in the distance to see if the battle was over or if they heard Chang'e's voice. "Madame I think the battle is over" said Mon. " did he win, do you think he heard me?" Chang'e replies. "I believe so but its strange that the skeletal figure disappeared all of sudden" said Mon. "OH! I see him! Hiii my love!", Change yells joyously while waving. "hmmm, that's odd", Chang'e points out. "What's that?" Mon replies, "the last time Yiyi ran that feverishly was when a boulder was about to fall on me".  ".....................Madame I have a plethora of questions for that statement alone" said Mon. "Regardless, he does seem panicked. I wonder wh-" before Mon could finish his pondering, Hades's black visage arose from the ground enveloping everything in darkness. "Salutations Wench, I'll be borrowing your form " Hades said with a wicked smile. "MON HELP ME!", Chang'e yelled "MADAME WHERE ARE YOU, ITS TOO DARK!" Mon replied in panic. "YOU'RE IN THE WAY VERMIN!" Hades roared as he knocked Mon into a nearby dune. "GAH!" Mon reeling from the blow drifted into the sand dune and fell unconscious. "Mon!" Angered by Hades's treatment of one of her eternal companions Chang'e proceeds to threaten him appropriately. "SHOW YOUR PRESENCE SO I CAN END YOU MYSELF!" she yells with righteous fury. "very well, but be careful what you wish for. hihihiAHAHAHAHAH" Hades responds knowing full well his final plan is complete and unveils the darkness. As the darkness cleared and vision is returned to Chang'e's eyes a figure stands before her that is both bewildering  and yet very familiar. "So?" , said the figure flashing a cheeky smile. "how do I look?" the figure responded again with a near perfect replication of her voice. At this point Chang'e realized the horrors of what had transpired. What was standing in front of her was Hades, but in the form of herself.

"You monster", Chang'e spat as her graceful demeanor cracked for the smallest of seconds as she stared straight into herself knowing full well what Hades' s final scheme was. "Monster?" hades laughed " i'm just a damsel in distress and for all we know, you could be the monster here" Hades said with sinister elation. Chang'e had just about enough of Hades's illusion and prepared to dance his head clean off his body. Sadly before she could twirl, Hades's grabbed her arm and said "I would be careful where you spin princess, since lover boy is almost her". Understanding the gravity of the situation before her, she held back. Knowing full well the consequences of killing her clone right in front Hou Yi.

Hou Yi, now having caught up but gasping for air utters his beloved's name "C-gasp wheeze Chang'e where are you?". in perfect unison a response is heard, "here I am Hou YI".  Standing up properly from his hunched and haggard stance, Hou yi speaks, "strange, did your voice always res..o...nate". If it wasn't for the situation at hand, Hou Yi would have fainted. He was looking at not one but two Chang'e's, Both Identical in voice and pose. "C-Chang'e?" Hou Yi asked, "yes?" they both responded. Confounded by the turn of events, the marksman hunched over again for air but also to think. After a couple Moments of pondering , He realized there was only one thing to do. "lady and god of death, one of you is the my most cherished one." The Chang'e's looked on in silence while Hou yi continued, " I will find out who your identities are with questions and events that only me and Chang'e know, and once I figure who is who". he paused, "ONE OF YOU WILL DIE!" , the pressure from that statement alone sent shivers down both the Chang'e's spines.  So now begins the final gambit of the god of underworld, a game of memories with one wrong move or answer from either side leading to death.

Question after Question, with each being farther back and more specific than the other. A fool-proof plan except for the fact that each Chang'e had a perfect answer. Hades's was able replicate everything about Chang'e including past memories that only her and Hou Yi knew, all it took was a little help from the Oracles. Hou Yi was starting to run out of questions and patience. Meanwhile Hades was snickering on the inside as his perfect plan was coming to fruition. Simply put, running down the clock until Hou Yi would have to guess or finally buckle from the stress. If Hou Yi picked him and shot Chang'e he would wait until Hou YI inevitably came in for a hug and reap his soul. On the other hand if Hou Yi did shoot him but collapsed after, Hades would use that chance. By appearing from below Hou Yi, Hades would attempt to take him to the underworld with his ultimate ability before Chang'e killed him. It was a dastardly double edged sword that only Hades, the the god of the afterlife could forge. "Everything is going to plan" Hades's said in his mind.........Or so he thought. A couple feet away from this deadly game a certain fluffy companion was waking from his impromptu slumber.

Mon, The Moon Rabbit was stuck headfirst in moon sand for at least an hour before regaining consciousness.  When he did arise his response was.....unique to say the least.  *PTOOIE* "Goodness me the last time I had my head dunked in the sand for that long was when I lived with my nineteen brothers and sisters!", Mon said right before spitting more moon sand out. *Ptooie* "Now, where has the madam been whisked away to" taking the power of the impact into consideration, Mon guessed that he had not been sent flying too far. After scanning the area for what felt like an 10 minutes Mon saw a recognizable Figure in the distance making his guess correct. "there you are, but wait... there are two! hmmm" mulling his thoughts Mon had an idea. "lets try this for size", in a matter of seconds after speaking Mon's eyes  began to glow bright jade and that's when he saw it. "HA!" Mon scoffed, " you may be a master trickster but these jade eyes of mine see EVERYTHING, TALLYHOOO!". With pep in his hop and brimming with confidence, Mon scurried towards his master in order to break Hades double-edged sword into pieces!

Hou yi: .......Favorite toe....

Chang'e and Hades: ......Pinky......

Hou Yi: .......if you were Jing Wei, how would you say hello .....

Chang'e and Hades : ........Oh hey fam.........

Hou YI: ............THATS IT, I'M SORRY BUT  ITS TIME TO CHOOSE!

Chang'e's mind: NO MY LOVE

Hades's mind: FINALLLLYYYYYY!

Mon steps onto the scene in gallant bunny fashion!

Mon: HOLD IT!

Hou Yi: a talking rabbit?

Chang'e's mind: MON!

Hades's mind: VERMIN!

Mon: Never Fear, for I have a plan Sir Yi, but it requires secrecy.

Hou Yi: Tell me your secrets small creature

Mon, proceeded to whisper something in everybody's ears and at the end of it, everyone was ready.

Hou Yi: Could both Chang'es please move several paces from each other

Chang'e and Hades: Yes my love

As both Chang'es moved away from each other, Mon stuck with the original as they moved farther away from Hades's reach but stopped in perfect range for something else

Hou YI: Its time small creature

Mon: indeed sir Yi......... MY INSTINCTS ARE TOP NOTCH!

As Mon hollered this abnormal comment, Hades stayed perfectly still while Chang'e did a perfect twirl

Mon: *wink* there you have it

Hades: what?

Hou Yi: *smirks* indeed

Hades: pardon?

Chang'e: *giggles*

Hou Yi: NOW MY LOVE!

SUNBREAKER!

Chang'e:  RIGHT BEHIND YOU!

WAXING MOON!

Hades: AGH THE PAIN,  I CAN'T MOVE ! NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE ! NO! STOP! IT BURNS!  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Chang'e and Hou Yi unleashed their ultimate abilities in glorious fashion and timing! Crescent blades flew from Chang'e's kimono, cleaving through Hades's being and stunning him in place! Meanwhile 8 molten suns come crashing down where Hades stands practically incinerating him on the spot! This volley of fire goes on until the dust clears leaving the god of the afterlife in such a state that his only salvation is death and a quick return to the realm he left. "D-*COUGH*-damn you" Hades whimpered as he tried to reserve what life and energy he had left. Hou Yi being the chivalrous individual he was spared Hades's from his arrows point so that he could speak one last time. "H-how *cough* d-did you know?" Hades asked sincerely.  "Elementary" Said Mon, "these Jade eyes of mine can see who has consumed the potion of immortality and unlike you Hades, these two  practically looked like they were glowing". "....I see.... guess in the end that "light" was never meant to be mine after all...." Hades replied sullenly. " Well, anyway last words O' god of the underworld" Hou Yi said in snarky manner followed by Chang'e giving him a light smack for being petty. "Just five" Hades responds in kind, "See you in the underworld, ahahahahAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHMUUHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAhhaha...hhaa.hh...aa..........."

The ominous glowing miasma that constantly flowed from Hades's form began to dissipate, eventually his entire being began to disappear until not even his presence remained. After Chang'e and Hou Yi finished watching Hades fade out of existence, a plan thousands of years in the making was finally coming to fruition. Chang'e and Hou Yi simply turned, held each other in their arms, and a simple conversation ensued.

Hou Yi: ......So, any ideas? we might be on this rock for awhile

Chang'e: a few.....but you'll never get to know them until I say so <3

Hou yi: Ha! i'm a pretty patient man as you can see!

Mon: Yep! say no more! if you need this bunny he'll be in the cave!

Mon hops away as fast as possible realizing he's a third wheel

Chang'e & Hou Yi: ......pfttHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Chang'e: sure, sure, anyway I believe there is a thousand-year monologue we could never quite address. *smiles* care to help me?

Hou Yi: *grins* of course......... Chang'e, where are you?

Chang'e: Here I am Hou Yi. I'll be right here beside you, Always and forever.

.......yes they kissed, Happy?!

-Fin-

[mioriia]

二 | Chapter 2 | Arc 0.2

The Wandering Maiden | Chapter 2

❝𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒 𝕙𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟'𝕤 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕤❞

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

The moment I gain consciousness once again, a sudden jolts of pain strike throughout my spine instantly as I groan, frustrated with the results of the situation.

My eyes slowly flutters, squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me. I glanced around and took in a blur once I gain consciousness, blinking a few times, trying to gain focus on my surroundings.

The wooden ceiling was the first thing that caught my attention once my vision was sharpen, it was only then that I realized I was laying in a futon with a wet cloth placed on my forehead. The room is covered in complete darkness meaning it's still night time.

Wait, what happened?

Where did that guy go?

Why am I doing here for-

❝Are you alright?❞

I almost choked on air when a cute voice reached my ears, I slowly turn my head to the doorway where the source of lights was and I was met with a pair of soft aqua orbs. She has shoulders-length black hair and she was wearing a floral pattern kimono underneath a black sleeveless jacket.

❛Even her appearance is cute...❜

I didn't sense any danger vibes from her instead all I felt was a kind heart from the way she was smiling in a dreamy way. She seems so mysterious... I love her already.

❝Y-yes! My lower b-back kinda h-hurts but I think I can h-handle it❞

I didn't want to be rude especially she seems to be really nice girl and first impression is a good way to make friends after all! Though my voice cracked at the end and my throat hurts in the process, its feel so dry as if it was fries like a fried chicken.

I held my lips to tone it down however, it's get worse and worse than before as my coughing session continues to torture the heck of my beloved throat that's starts to sting a little.

The girl who I haven't learn her name yet call out to someone but I didn't pay attention to it before she excuse herself to get some water and her teacher, her footsteps were small and light as a feather if I was a normal human then it's would have go unnoticed.

However, I wasn't. I hope they won't found out immedietely or else it's won't end well, an evil being like me doesn't deserve the kindness of those who we called as humans.

Weather they're good or bad, demons are nothing but evil spirits who possess, tricks, kill and make deals with humans just to take their souls away once the time is up. I feel disgusted how I am one of them, a descendant of a demon with its blood flowing through my veins making me unacceptable by those who are loved by gods.

What's frustrates me more that I can't even remember a single about my existence, the only thing remained is the fact I'm a Kishino.

Wait a minute-

I widen my eyes in realization, raising my hand on my forehead ❛Where did I learn that from?❜

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

「Third Person's POV」

While the young girl was confused with the new information, she failed to notice the girl from before was now standing in front of her with a tray contains a whole tea set roughly enough for six people before kneeling down next to the younger girl which causes her to snap out of it, turns to face the older girl.

❝O-Oh, sorry for s-spacing out just n-now...❞

Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment while the older one smiles sweetly towards her as she pours some water into the cups before giving one to the brunette which she politely took it, thanking her along the way.

❝You don't need to apologize, you were bleeding so much when we found you❞

❝E-Eh? Really? Thank you so much for helping me...❞

❝You should thanks Giyuu for that, he was the one who brought you to us❞

❝Giyuu?❞

As if on cue, the ravenette female turn her attention towards the side. Her sudden actions confused the young one at the first few seconds before her pale blue orbs caught the shadows which resembles a human's, slowly glancing up in curiosity.

An elder individual with a tengu mask stood by the door and a young boy with peach colored locks of hair, reaching below his shoulders. A large scar is located near his mouth, his blueish grey eyes looks strong and calm as another young boy clings to him from behind, clearly seems to be afraid as he held his friend's clothes.

His medium length, messy black hair tied back into a low ponytail and his dark blue eyes caught the attention of the brunette girl who kept on staring at him intensely and this made the young boy shy away, hiding behind the other boy's back which made the girl blinked twice at his actions.

❝Giyuu is really shy, I hope you get along with him❞ the ravenette girl whispered to her when she notices how lost she was.

❛So, he is Giyuu... His shyness is pretty adorable❜ the brunette thought, smiling to herself.

❝Uhh... Giyuu-san?❞

By the sound of his name being called, he slowly raises his head from the taller boy's back as a signal that he's listening.

❝Thank you for saving me back then if you didn't find me, I would be a goner by now❞

Her eyes closed as her lips went upward, smiling kindly towards the boy, secretly telling him that she would do no harm to him which he slightly calm down, relaxing his body as he stammered his response to hers.

❝I only did what was right...Saving people who need help is one of the qualities of a demon slayer❞

The moment she heard these lines, she felt the coldness of her heart start functioning on its own, beating at a normal pace which resembles a normal heartbeat of a person.

❛Oh my gosh... This human boy is so precious...❜

That was the first time, she felt her own heart. All because of a human boy's kindness touched the cold core, enough to give her warmth.

A warmth that she never knew felt so good inside of her.

A warmth that she wants to embrace it for as long as she lives.

A warmth that she swore to protect.

This is the spark of the fiery fire burning deep in the core of a demon's soul.

❝W-What are you doing?!❞

❝Hugging you of course, Giyu-san!❞

❝But you're i-injured!❞

... Well let's just say that a small tomato was born in the end due to the embarrassment of his comrades laughing at his poor attempts of stopping the brunette.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

[shivercloud]

A little trouble never hurt anybody (Loki x reader one shot soulmate AU) part.1

Warnings: a little bit of fluff. And lots of cussing.

Summary: Loki and reader soulmate AU. you were recruited as an Avenger and an agent of Shield you were vicious and NO ONE messed with you. you were vicious yet caring and could be kind you were a tom-boy. Unfortunately, your soulmate happened to be the Trickster Loki Laufeyson/odinson whom you hated since he had killed your whole family in the whole New York incident, his very existence irked you, you wished him dead. But things change once your soulmark appears on your arm. After he escaped the Asgardian dungeon and took over Asgard. So Thor brought him back to Midgard and He was being punished by having to be an Agent of Shield against his will and being under 24/7 surveillance which you hated, you didn't see him ever since you avoided him and shot him a glare every time you DID see him.

Powers and abilities: you are half Asgardian so long life span, stronger then Midgardians, heal faster than Midgardians. You are a master assassin even better then Natasha was also kept in the red room but never had graduation since your younger and your parents found you and took you out before Natasha was graduated. You have the ability to control fire.

Onto the story.....

It was a normal day at the Avengers compound and it was 4 years since New York and almost everybody had a soulmate but you didn't you were thinking to yourself as the sun shone into your bedroom "am I EVER gonna get a soulmate? Will I forever be alone? Why can't I have a soulmate!? I don't want to be ALONE FOREVER!"

You get out of your bed in a pout and change into a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt and put your hair up in a ponytail and did your usual morning stuff and then went to the living room.

You saw everyone with their soulmates which made you envious and Tony asks "still no soulmark?" You pull up your sleeve and say grumpily "nope, I'm gonna die alone if only I wasn't half Asgardian, I hate my life and I hate well hated my Dad" Tony says "[Name] we all know you don't or didn't hate your Dad" you reply "I know, but I wish I was just 100% Midgardian, I HATE my life!"

Thor walks in and says "[Name] Being Asgardian isn't all that bad, your more advanced then Midgardians then" you reply "I DONT care! If I wasn't half Asgardian I'd be dead and wouldn't have to worry about never having a soul mate!" Thor says "if it makes you feel better, my Brother doesn't have one either" you reply "dont remind me of that nuisance and egotistical idiot! He doesn't even deserve one!"

Just then the idiot walks in and you scoff "look who's here now, the last person in the nine realms I want to see" Thor says "[Name] my brother doesn't do that anymore" you reply "I HATE his very existence, and I will NEVER forgive him he's the very reason I have absolutely no family" Thor says "[Name] I have no family either the only family I have is Loki" you reply "if you want some pity you've come to the wrong person, why don't you go get pity from your Soulmate! Being your Valkyrie girl" (Brunhilde is Thor's soulmate in this story). You stomp off to your room and shut the door and lock it.

Natasha walked into the living room and says "what was that all about?" Thor answers "Lady [Name], is upset," Natasha asks "about what now?" Tony responds "she still doesn't have a soulmark and she still hates Reindeer games" Thor adds "and I said something I shouldn't have," Natasha asks "did you bring up her family again?" Thor replies "yeah, sort of, I didn't mean to," Natasha says "you, know she's sensitive about that, we all do" Thor replies "I know, I didn't mean to upset Lady [F/N]" Natasha says "I know you didn't, I'll go talk to her."

Your POV

I went to my room angry And thought "I know I need to grow up and stop getting upset everytime someone mentions my dead family, but it's painful, remembering that and I also shouldn't get upset about not having a soulmate i'm not the only one, like sam and neither does Bucky that's it may be one of them are my soulmate, maybe Bucky is he is cute, but I don't even have a soulmark yet."

There's a knock at my door so I answer "who is it?" I hear Natasha say "it's me Nat" I respond "come in" and I unlock the door and Nat comes in and asks "you, ok [Name]?" You reply "good enough, you're lucky you have a soulmark and soulmate," Natasha says "yeah I was shocked when I found out about my soulmark" you reply "I knew that you and Banner were meant for each other."

You sigh "but, I have no one," Nat says "cheer up, I know you'll get one" you reply "I doubt it, everybody has one except me, you have Banner, Steve HAD Peggy Carter, Tony has Pepper, Thor has his valkyrie girl, Wanda has Vision, Clint has Laura, Rhodes has someone no one knows and I have no one its not fair! I don't want to die alone!"

Nat says "[Name] don't lose hope it took me about 10 years at least to find mine, and you age slower so I know you'll get someone, now come on everyone is here at the compound today, even Clint so we can do something with the team. Nat says " come on I thought we were best friends?" You reply "we are but, I'm still jealous that you have a soulmate, even if we have been through the same thing" Nat replies "yeah, I'm glad you didn't graduate."

You reply "I really wish I could've taken you with me when my parents got me out of that shit hole" Nat replies "it's fine, let's just go join the team I'll make sure you sit AWAY from Loki" you reply "fine, just I know those memories haunt you more than they haunt me, have you spoken to Bruce about it?" Nat replies "yeah, talking about it helps even if it was horrifying, but PLEASE let's go?" You reply "fine," Nat says "good, also if you ever get a soulmark, tell me," you ask "why?"

Nat responds "cause then I can help you try to figure out who it is if you won't know it by then" you respond "umm, ok," Nat says "now, come on Bruce and I will make sure you don't sit by Loki".

You respond "good, you're a good best friend" you and Nat get on your way and you say "I wish Shield wouldn't have done what they did with him" Natasha responds "we all do, except Maybe Thor."

You and Natasha go to the living room and see everybody gathered except Loki but that didn't matter anyway he and a tracking device on him and Tony says "we should do something, as a team something fun none of us are working" you ask Tony "then what do, YOU suggest?" Tony replies "hey, you finally came, I don't know 7 minutes in heaven?" You respond "HECK NO, besides everyone has a soulmate already" Tony replies "you dont, and neither do Barnes, or Wilson" you reply "Tony that game stinks and no."

Tony suggests "what about spin the bottle?" You reply "no, like I said you all have soulmates and I don't" you sigh "whatever, I'll be in the library reading until somebody, comes up with an idea of some sort, so goodbye" you leave and Tony says "she's still upset about having no soulmate isn't she?" Nat responds "I think so," Tony says "what if we tried getting Reindeer games and [Name] together?" Nat replies "no 1st of All. She hates his guts 2nd of all. he doesn't deserve my best friend 3rd of all. She doesn't even have a soulmark yet!" Tony replies "that's true, what about Barnes and her?" Nat points out "she and him no and like I already said, she doesn't even have a soulmark" Tony says "that's why we could experiment, because usually, you have to have some chemistry with your soulmate before the soulmark appears" Nat says "no, I think we should Let her do that herself."

Just then Nat's phone rings and she sees its fury calling and says "I have to take this it's Fury, probably a mission" Nat leaves the room and answers the phone and Fury says "Agent Romanoff?" Nat responds "yes, Director?" Fury replies "I have a mission for you, Agent [L/N], and Laufeyson well Agent Laufeyson" Nat responds "but [Name] hates Loki and I dont blame her" fury responds through the phone "that's why your there otherwise it'd just be them, im well aware of her hatred for him and I don't like him either, but, this mission requires him and her and you to make sure [Name] doesn't try to kill him or he try to kill her."

Nat says into the phone "i'll go get them and you can let us know our mission" Fury responds through the phone "ok" Natasha says "I'll put you on hold Fury."

Your POV

I just went to the library and grabbed a book and sat down just then I heard someone walk by and clear their throat and I look up from my seat and see Loki so I give him a sarcastic grin and then look back down to my book and cross my legs on top each other in a comfortable position and I hear Loki say "excuse me?" I ignore him and he says again in a more annoyed tone "excuse me!?" I growl and look up to him and ask "what!?" I look back down and he says "excuse me, mortal?!"

I snap my head up to him and snap "what?! And I am NOT Mortal sadly, I wish I was but I'm not, now WHAT do you want, your highness?" The last part was dripping with sarcasm Loki says "your sitting in my seat" I reply "well, boohoo, get lost because I don't give a fuck! You royal arrogant asshole!"

Loki responds "fine, then I'll sit there" he points to the seat next to me which I quickly put my legs onto and say "NOPE! That's reserved Loki says " oh, really? For who?" I respond "for my legs are you blind?" Loki throws my legs off but I kick him in the face and say innocently but with sarcasm "oops, didn't know that was your face, sorry."

I get up but Loki stops me by trapping me against the bookshelf and asks "why do you hate me so much?" I reply "easy, your arrogant, egotistical, selfish and a jackass!" I try to escape but Loki doesn't let me and Loki says "really, I know it's not just that" I reply "alright, you wanna know the rest then fine, you killed my family mercilessly easy because of your a jackass and a monster."

I snap "now LET ME GO! Or you'll regret it!" Loki replies "please i'm a god, you couldn't harm me in the slightest way" I challenge "oh, really, you think you're better than everyone?" I ignite my hands on fire and squeeze his wrists burning him and I question him "hurts, doesn't it?" Loki tries giving me a straight face but winces in pain and I smirk in satisfactory "I thought so."

He moves so I can escape and winces in pain and rubs his arm so he's no longer trapping me and I flip him off and say "Fuck you little bastard!" I throw my hair that came out of the ponytail over my shoulder and I leave to get a new book since I finished the one I was reading.

Loki's thoughts after that: "I like this Mortal, she's vicious and beautiful also fun to mess with she's feisty, just for a woman she dresses weirdly, no make-up at least I think. boyish- but still girlish yet clothing, no jewellery and a very strange attitude."

I grabbed a new book and went back to the soft bean bags and saw he was sitting on the one I was on before so I give him a glare and he just smirks while reading his book and he has his legs on the other one so I give him an unimpressed expression and he smirks while reading I pull the second beanbag out from under his legs and I 'accidentally' kick him in the crotch.

And he groans in pain and glares at me in pain still and I smirk and say innocently "oops" and I take the beanbag and sit away from him and just when I open my book and start reading i'm interrupted by Natasha which slightly ticks me off.

3rd POV

Natasha says to you "[Name], we have a mission" you groan and place your bookmark in the book and put it on the ground beside you and ask "what is it?" Nat responds "we need Loki as well unfortunately and luckily you two were in the same place at the same time" you say to Nat "I don't think that asshole can hear you."

Nat sighs and you shout "hey bozo!" Loki looks up from his book and glares at you and you shout "yeah, you idiot murderer, with hideous clothing" Loki glares and stays in his spot so you roll your eyes and say "get your ass over here!" Loki growls angrily and comes over and asks "what is so important that you MUST bother me while I read?! Weak Mortal!" You shout for the hundredth time "is not mortal you little shit I'm only half I wish I were completely mortal but I'm not so, shut the fuck up! There's something important to discuss."

Loki scoffs "fine, what?" Natasha puts her phone off hold and says "I suggest that we go to the table" so the three of you go to the table in the library and Natasha puts her phone on speakerphone and says "hello, Fury I've got them here now" Fury says through the phone "ok, well this is an important mission, the mission is there is a terrorist boat full of dangerous weapons and illegal weapons, a small shipment but still and I need the three of you to stop it from making it to the destination and I need you three to destroy them, but however there are hostages aboard the ship which you need to save and stop the shipment do whatever it takes to save the innocents and stop the shipments."

You ask "and why do we need the idiot to help out? Not like he'll be any use to us, why not just Nat and I?" Fury responds through the phone "it's too dangerous for just you two" you ask "then why not replace the idiot with someone I dont know..... Useful?" Fury replies "quit your complaining, you sound like a child and it'll either be just you and Laufeyson or the three of you your choice."

You groan and say "well Fury, I'm sorry as much as I like killing bad guys and saving good peoples lives I am gonna have to respectfully decline and putting bad guys where they belong" you shoot Loki a death glare and Fury says "well, too bad you dont have a choice, any other complaints?" Loki says "yes, I can't do this with HER, so I refuse," Fury says "too damn bad Laufeyson, we technically own you and if we didn't you'd be dead, a Quinjet sill be there soon to pick the three of you up an take you to shield HQ to get your equipment and Romanoff you need to check and take save any Shield intel, I expect all of you to put your hatred aside and work as a team, Romanoff is mainly there so [L/N] doesn't murder Laufeyson or the other way around, get ready the Quinjet should be there in a an hour, which'll leave you three with approximately 2 hours once you reach the destination to stop these weapons from reaching their destination."

With that Fury hangs up and all evidence of that conversation is erased automatically you say to Natasha "Nat?" She asks "what?" You reply "let's spar, I NEED to train a bit and blow off some steam" Natasha replies "I'm sorry [F/N] I can't I wanted to spend time with Bruce and the team" you reply "ugh, ok, then I'll train by myself."

Nat says "sorry, you might hate me for even suggesting this, but spar with him," you say in disbelief "heck no!" Loki says "and I refuse to train well spar with YOU, of all people."

You leave the library along with Nat and you go to your room and quickly go to the training room alone and you sigh unhappily once you get to the training room and you go over to the punching beg.

Using the right gear, you punch it hard and fast repeatedly in a frustrated way and while you're beating up the punching bag you think "ok, actually now I wouldn't mind sparring with Loki, it might be fun to beat the shit out of him, but I'm pretty sure he meant it when he refused" you hear someone walk in and say "I didn't think that the poor thing hurt you" you look and see Loki and you can't help but laugh quietly.

Loki comments "is that laughter I hear?'" You respond in a vicious tone "shut up, why are you here anyway?" Loki replies "because I changed my mind, I'll spar with you" you reply "well, it's too late now" Loki responds "are you sure now?" You reply "ok, fine, but dont get mad if I kick your ass" you leave the punching bag and go over to Loki

Loki says "you won't be able to kick my ass" you reply "sure, sure DONT underestimate me," Loki says "I won't but dont underestimate me either" you reply "weapons or magic?" Loki says "you know magic?" You reply "a bit yes and I can control fire, long-story-short my Dad whom you murdered mercilessly was Asgardian and taught me some Asgardian Magic," Loki asks "do you know how to do illusions?" You reply "not really, I mainly know Asgardian fighting and earth fighting and I can use fire magic."

You make a little flame dance on your hand and then make a little fire Cat appear on your hand and Loki says "that's actually fascinating" you reply "umm thanks? I guess" Loki replies "I'm sorry" you respond "for what?" Loki replies "for everything" you respond "are you ok?" Loki shrugs and answers "perhaps not" you reply "ok, well lets spar I want to get some training done before we have to leave for the mission and you better not screw it up."

Loki replies "more, like you better not" you growl basically and say in a competitive tone "lets spar," Loki says "ok, but weapons or magic?" You reply "just weapons, you're probably crappy with a weapon" Loki replies "oh, really? I don't do just magic, I do daggers as well and not to brag but I'm quite skilled with them" you reply sarcastically "sure."

Loki says "you'll see" you reply "what kind of weapons?" Loki asks "what weapons do you normally use?" You reply "my skills and shield weapons, but when I trained with my Dad I used small blades or well small knives, similar to daggers but different, but if I'm gonna use it I need to go get it" Loki replies "ok, well hurry, I'll just be waiting here."

You leave and quickly go to your room and you go to the drawer that you had it in and unfold it from the cloth you wrapped it in and took it out of the sheath and stroked your finger on it and say to yourself "Dad, mom brother, I'm sorry I would take this opportunity to kill him but I can't, everybody would notice, one day I WILL avenge all of you, I WILL kill him just not now, I'll at least get some of his blood shed onto here."

You put it back into its sheath and go to the training room and you see Loki waiting for you to return patiently and he gets up when you reach and you ask "don't you need your dagger" he uses his magic and makes one appear and says "I already have one."

You attack Loki without warning and just barely miss his arm and he laughs and mocks "you missed" you cuss "crap" and ask "you've got good reflexes huh?" you add "well, I've got better Reflexes" Loki lunges an attack on you but you avoid it and twist his hand around so his own weapon is pointing at his own throat and Loki says "maybe, I did underestimate you, I'm not gonna go easy on you now" you reply "ok, that's fine."

You and Loki spar for almost an hour both with scratches when you cut his cheek and make him bleed and he says "impressive, it's not easy to draw blood, but then again your half Asgardian" he wipes it off but it keeps on bleeding and he cuts your arm slightly leaving a tiny cut.

Natasha walks in and says "you two, quintet just got here let's go, so quickly change and then come on I'll be waiting by the door that leads outside" you nod and you say to Loki "you might wanna clean up that wound" Loki replies "I know" you and Loki leave and you say "as much as I hate saying this, your.... Decent at sparring" Loki replies "as much as I hate to say it as well, so are you."

You reply "ugh, I hate myself for this so much but, maybe we should spar again sometime, ugh your... A good sparring partner" Loki replies stiffly "I agree and so are you."

You and Loki go two different directions and you think "Dad, Mom, Big Brother I am SO sorry I know I shouldn't be making friends with the enemy, I am SO deeply, sincerely sorry, I've failed but I swear on my life I WILL avenge you, all of you, at least I'll try."

You quickly change out of your gym clothes and put deodorant and perfume on you gather some of your equipment since most of it was at shield HQ and you go and find Natasha waiting and she asks "where is he?" You reply "I have no idea, I dont keep fucking tabs on him!" Nat says "woah, sorry [Name] calm down."

Loki comes and sighs and says "let's get this over with" you see he's wearing his armour and say "you are SUCH An idiot!" Loki looks confused at you and asks "what did I do?" You reply "you can't go on a SHIELD mission in THAT!" Loki challenges "oh and why not?!" You facepalm and ask "have you been on ANY Shield missions at ALL?!" Loki responds "no" you reply "of, course you haven't, well what you're wearing it attracts WAY too much attention, working fo Shield you need something that doesn't attract attention but I'm sure shield has something for you to wear."

Natasha says "[Name] is right you can't wear that on a shield mission, it attracts too much attention but I'm sure Fury has something," you say to Nat "he's probably going to have to wear something like what Clint wears" Natasha replies "probably," Loki says "I'm still here and I REFUSE to wear something like that" you reply "your gonna have to."

You, Nat and unfortunately Loki board the Quinjet and fly off to Shield HQ on your way you say to Natasha "It feels like I haven't been on a mission in forever" Natasha replies "yeah, it has been a while" you reply "missions are my life, I've missed them, I'm never gonna give up my life working for Shield, its the best" Nat replies "yeah, Shield is nice they give everyone a second chance."

Loki just sits silently and looks at the ground and asks "how do you two get along so well?" You reply "we're best friends and we went through the same thing."

---------time skip----------

The three of you reach HQ and the door opens and the three of you get off and go in and go to the equipment room and Fury walks in and says "Agent [L/N], it's been a while, one of our top agents its good to see you and Romanoff good see you as well, I see Laufeyson actually came, figured he'd escape somehow" you reply "I'm shocked as well and it's good to see you, director" Fury says "Laufeyson, we, have some equipment for you, seeing as you dont have anything other than your Asgardian armour which will attract too much attention, its still your style but it's dark colours that won't attract attention, follow me Agent Laufeyson."

Loki follows after Fury, while you and Nat get your equipment and once you two have equipment on Loki returns and you can't help but look him up and town and take in how good he looks once you notice he notices you look at your shoes and Nat says "let's go."

-------------time skip-------------

You reach your destination and Natasha says "[L/N], Laufeyson both of you to save the hostages and then destroy the illegal weapons if possible you nod and Loki asks Natasha " why do you get to make the orders here?" Natasha replies "I have way more experience that's why now while I go save any Shield intel and you two NEED to work together, [L/N] you get to give Laufeyson orders" you nod and Loki grits his teeth together angrily and Natasha goes on.

Loki growls quietly "why must I listen to YOU?!" You reply "easy you've never been out in the field and I have, therefore I have more experience, now shut up and stop complaining you sound like a little boy" Loki spits "EXCUSE ME?!" You say nothing but saying "we're supposed to work as a team so just Fucking listen to me PLEASE" Loki scoffs "Fine."

.....later.....

You and Loki find the hostages but see that they're heavily guarded and you whisper to Loki "we need to do whatever it takes to get in their Laufeyson, which means you can kill the bad guys but not, the victims."

He nods and says "I'll go the other direction" you give him a thumbs up and he goes and you go and you both bust the doors down and you attacked by a bunch of guys but burn some of them and kill them by throwing them at the wall with force and snapping there necks another one attacks you and your hand is on flame and you put it on there throat and burn a hole hearing gurgling sound and they fall lifeless to the floor.

Loki says "and you call me merciless" you hiss "shut up" and you speak into your ear com "we've got the hostages, we need someone to come and get them" you hear Agent Hill on the other end "someone will be there right away" you reply "ok."

you and Loki untie the hostages and get rid of their gags and they look scared so you reassure them "someone will be here to get all of you home soon" they all nod and soon a Quinjet large enough for them arrives with one of the shield agents that you recognize but don't remember the name of and after all the innocents get on board they fly away.

Natasha finds you and Loki and asks "the victims are safe?" You nod and she says "well now, we need to destroy those weapons."

You nod and all go to where the weapons are located and find a jackpot you say "if we want to do this the easy way I could just burn this ship down, my fire is so strong that they'll melt" Nat says "check if that's allowed" you nod and say into your com "can I just burn this place down?" You hear Fury "yes, but do it once a ride comes I'll send one immediately."

A few minutes later a Quinjet arrives and you set the weapons on fire you're all on your way out when someone puts something on your mouth and nose and you pass out seeing Natasha ln the Quinjet and no sign of Loki.

After that, it was all black.

[shanastoryteller]

wow your writing in the gods and monsters series is amazing! i've always loved greek myths and you bring them to life and add a different twist that makes it better than anything i've ever read about mythology!! if you have time, could you do a continuation of the Hades and Kore story? Kore/Persephone is one of my fav goddesses and i can't wait to see where you take her story!

(continuation of: x, x)

The first time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, sheis reckless and stubborn and feels like she has so little left to lose, only anoverbearing mother she yearns to escape.

The first time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, shefights and swims and survives. She is picked up on the shore and carried tosafety in Hades’s arms.

The second time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, sheis reckless and stubborn and feels like she has everything to lose. She letsthe water take her, and she drowns.

The second time Kore throws herself into the River Styx, itkills her.

~

Kore wakes up after falling unconscious while being carriedby the King of the Underworld. Her skin is fully healed, no longer blisteringand burning. She’s naked under the soft blankets, but she was naked when shedove into the river, so she’s not too worried about it.

“I didn’t know you were a goddess,” someone says, and sheturns her head to see a little girl sitting by her bedside with black skin andgrey eyes and hair. She’s glaring at her, “I wouldn’t have tried to kill you ifI’d known. You shouldn’t touch my water – it’s not good for you. It will killyou. It does not care what you are.”

“It did not kill Achilles,” Kore says, pushing herself up sothe blanket falls to her waist.

The young Lady Styx huffs and gets to her feet, pushing openthe long wardrobe on the other side of the room. “It did, actually. What myriver takes, it keeps.” Kore raises an eyebrow. Styx doesn’t explain further,only places a dark blue gown on the bed. “Hecate put some of her old things inhere for you. She’s taller and thinner than you are. But you are a goddess. Youcan make it work.”

“I can,” Kore agrees, amused. She pushes herself out of bed,and her hair falls into her face.

Her hair has been a dark brown her whole life.

She strides over to the wardrobe and pulls it open, starringat herself in the mirror.

Her hair has turned pure, snowy white. The hair on her headof course, but the rest of it too. Her eyebrows, the light hair on her arms andlegs, going down her navel, the hair between her legs – all of it white.

“You’re lucky nothing worse happened,” Styx scolds. “Myriver usually does much worse than that.”

Kore touches one of her new, pale eyebrows. “That is anexcellent point, Lady Styx.”

With some clever magic, Kore pulls on the now perfectlyfitting gown. Hecate doesn’t tend to bother with them, only dresses up ifthere’s some sort of celebration that requires her attendance – something thathasn’t happened in a long time, ever since she irritated Zeus and Poseidon tothe point that they called for her head on a spike. The gown is old, even bytheir standards, but its beautifully crafted, stars plucked from the heavensand sewn into the bodice, waves from the seven seas curling around the longskirt. “This is very valuable,” she says, “Is Hecate sure she would like me tohave it?”

Styx shrugs, “She said it was a young woman’s dress, andhowever she may look, she’s not a young woman any more. It’s my favorite dressof hers – I was quite cross that she gave it to you, but I did almost kill you.So I suppose that’s fair enough.”

“Ah,” Kore says, not quite sure how to respond to that. “Isee.”

Styx grins at her and grabs her hand. The child goddess’sskin is freezing to the touch, but Kore doesn’t flinch back out of fear ofbeing rude. “Come with me now. Hades wants to see you.”

The girl leads her through the twisting hallways to apolished wooden door. It’s not the throne room, where Kore thought that thegirl would take her. She’s seen the grand inner chambers of Poseidon and Zeus’shomes before, of the lesser gods even, and Kore braces herself for somethingjust as grandiose and intimidating.

Styx opens the door and pushes her inside before vanishing.

Kore blinks and looks around.

The room is smaller than she expected. It’s lined withshelves packed with scrolls, and mounted on the opposite wall is large mapthat’s constantly shifting and changing, and it take her almost a full minuteof looking at it to realize it’s a map of the underworld.

“You’re looking better.”

Kore’s eyes snap down, and it’s only then that she noticesthe figure of Hades, King of the Underworld, hunched over his desk. His hairpulled in messy low ponytail, and there are dark bags under his eyes. He’s in asimple black chiffon, one no more presumptuous than any mortal noble wouldwear. He’s the most unassuming, unremarkable thing in already unassuming,unremarkable room.

Suddenly, she feels over-dressed.

“Thank you,” she says, not knowing what else to say. Shefeels – awkward, almost, in front of him, which isn’t something she’s ever feltwith anyone. She wants to climb into his lap and rest her head against hisshoulder. She wants to force him into some proper clothes for a king. She wantsto put him to bed and make him sleep until he loses those bruises under hiseyes.

She’s never wanted to do any of those things for anyonebefore. She doesn’t even know him.

Although – she knows he came for her. That he found an intruderinto his realm and picked her up and soothed her, carried her to safety andwashed her of the corrosive water of the Styx. He placed her in his palace anddid not touch her as so many other men would have touched her.

So perhaps she does know him. At least a little.

He rests his chin on his hand while he looks at her. “Hermescame with a message from your mother, demanding your return.” She doesn’t evenhave the time to panic before he continues, “I denied her. If she wishes tospeak to me in person, I told her she is welcome to step into my realmherself.”

“She won’t do that,” Kore says, “She fears your realm. Shefears how her power means nothing in your domain.”

Kore had never known her mother to fear anything – exceptthe land of the dead. She’d grown up thinking Hades must be a hulking, formidablefigure to pull fear from her mother’s breast, but that’s clearly not the case.

He smiles, and it’s the first hint of sharpness she’s seenfrom him. “I know. There will be consequences, of course. But those are myconcern. You are a guest of my realm, Goddess of Spring. Walk where you please,and do as you please. No one will stop you.”

He’s already looking back down at his papers, eyebrowsdrawing together as he scratches out a series of numbers and rewrites them.It’s a clear dismissal, but Kore can’t bring herself to move.

She’s never met this man before. Yet he stands against hermother, yet he welcomes her to his realm, yet he permits unrestricted access tohis home, yet he grants her every freedom he’s able.

“Thank you,” she says again. He gives an absent nod, alreadyreaching for another scroll.

She leaves as quietly as she came.

~

Hades in unsurprised when the first wave of deaths occur.Charon is run ragged in his efforts to ferry them across the river. It’s madeall the harder because Styx keeps her river churning at a fast pace to dissuadeany of the impatient souls from attempting to swim across.

“This is only the beginning,” he warns them. Styx pulls onCharon’s robe, and the ferryman lifts her and settles her onto his hip eventhough his arms are shaking from navigating the boat across her river.“Demeter’s wrath is – far reaching.”

“Is the girl worth all this trouble?” Charon grumbles.

Hades smiles and tugs on the hood of the man’s robe. “Youwere.”

Styx yawns and snuggles into Charon’s side. “I like her.We’ll keep up, don’t worry.”

Hades can’t help but worry. Styx and Charon are young yet,and he hates to do this to them. He won’t go and confront Demeter, however –that’s not his battle to fight. For now, the best thing he can do for Kore isweather the storm of her mother’s anger.

The best thing he can do for Kore is give her time.So that’s exactly what he’ll do.

He goes to Hecate after, a map clenched in his fist. “Timeto expand?” she asks when she sees him.

“It will be,” he says grimly. “it’s better if we can getahead of it.”

Hecate doesn’t disagree. They spend the next three daysplanning it, and a week hence they’ll pull the edges of his realm wider. Ifthey do it right, it will almost double the size of the underworld. If they doit wrong – well, it’s best that they don’t.

He returns to the castle exhausted. He wants to go straightto bed, but he should review the lists of the dead so that they can all be sentto the right parts, to the areas of his realm that will fit them best. If heleaves them in the waiting area too long, not only will they get restless, butit will fill up, especially with the volume they’re going through. A fullwaiting area tends to end in disaster, restless souls causing disasters evenwhen they don’t mean to.

He walks through his palace, souls and other beingsinclining their heads as he passes. He’s already resigned himself to fallingasleep as his desk when he pushes open the door and sees a head of white curlsbent over his desk. “Lady Kore,” he says, surprised. He’d given her access toall parts of his realm. He still hadn’t expected to find her in his office. “Issomething wrong?”

She’s got ink smudges on her cheek and her dark purple dressis wrinkled. “I’m nearly finished,” she says, eyes unfocused. “You’ll want tocheck it over, of course. But I’m a quick study. I’m quite certain I’ve gottenit right.”

Hades doesn’t understand. He walks over to her, and spreadacross his desk are the new names of the dead, and Kore has written a numbernext to each name. The numbers are the same that flash across the map hung onthe wall – each one corresponding to a sector of his realm. There are scrollsand scrolls of names that are the product of Demeter’s temper tantrum, onesthat had built up while Hades had worked with Hecate to ensure that there wasenough room for everyone.

All but the one currently spread out on his desk iscomplete.

“You must have been working on this for days,” he saysblankly. “You didn’t need to do that.”

She smiles at him. She has such a pretty smile. “You didn’tneed to let me stay, or shield me from my mother.”

“That’s not the same thing,” he says. He had decided he wasgoing to help her. That didn’t mean she needed to help him in return.

Kore reaches up, her fingertips lightly dragging against thedelicate skin beneath his eyes. “You’re exhausted. Go to sleep. I’ll finishthis up.”

“You don’t need to,” he says again, and he can’t stoplooking at her. He doesn’t know why.

She tucks his hair behind his ear and says, “I want to. Getsome sleep.”

He walks back to his room, but all he can think of is Kore’sfingertips on his skin.

~

The weeks drag into months, and the death toll grows everhigher. Throughout it all, Kore is there.

She’s at the river’s edge to help unload the new souls fromCharon’s boat. She’s there when Styx falls into an exhausted sleep, letting thegirl rest with her head pillowed on Kore’s lap. She’s there, every day, byHades’s side, effortlessly shouldering half the work to keep his realm running,to keep everything smooth.

“You know,” Hecate says, sitting across from Kore as shepours over the map of the realm and the population counts of different area,“this is the most successful seduction attempt of Hades I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not seducing him, I’m helping,” she says absently, thenlook up at her, “Wait, is he seduced? Because I could be. If he’s interested.”

Kore hadn’t known she could want someone beforeHades. The thought of touching Hermes or Apollo curdles her stomach, but Hades– that excites her. She’s never felt this way before. But she didn’t thinkHades felt the same. He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t look at her. They spendalmost every minute of every day together, and not once has he sent her acovetous glance.

Then again, if he were the type of man to covet her, shewouldn’t love him.

Because she does love him. She’s known that since thebeginning.

Hecate laughs and taps her on the nose. “My dear, he’swalking on clouds, even as your very presence threatens to plunge this realminto ruin. I would consider him quite thoroughly seduced.”

“Does he love me?” she asks, and she sounds young, and it isa childish question. But it’s important. If Hades loves her, she has a plan. It’sa plan that’s been lurking in the back of her mind since that very first day,since Styx let something slip that Kore is sure she didn’t mean to. But – shewon’t do it if Hades doesn’t love her. She won’t repay his kindness withbetrayal if he won’t forgive her for it.

Hecate is silent for a long time. She sounds surprised whenshe says, “You know, Kore, I think he does.”

Hades loves her.

She loves him.

There is a marriage in her future, if she does this right.But it will be no gilded cage – she’s tired of looking to other people to saveher, looking to Apollo, to Hermes, to Hades.

She’s going to save herself.

~

Kore hasn’t used her powers here, unsure of how spring wouldconflict with death.

She does it now, in the middle of the night, when Hadesslumbers.

There’s no life in the earth surrounding the palace, but itdoes not worry her. She is the daughter of Demeter, she is the Goddess ofSpring. Life from death is what she does best.

She takes off her shoes and digs her feet into the ground,closes her eyes, and uses every ounce of her power to turn this barren landinto – something else.

The trees are first, great towering things that fill theedges of the courtyard. Then grass, then flowers in every color she canimagine, all in full bloom. Shrubs and rose bushes, delicate ivy crawling upthe sides of Hades’s palace. She covers it all in fauna, in life. Then shefalls to her knees, pushes her hands into the earth, and makes something new.

It’s small, but it’s there. She rejects all that her motherhas made, and, for the first time, makes something completely on her own. It’sbarely a tree, barely as tall as she is. It blooms red, and as she forces it toage, the blossoms grow into heavy, round fruits, just as red as the blossoms. Itis only a single tree, in the middle of the courtyard. She hopes it will beenough.

“Lady Styx,” she says, “I need you.”

The child goddess appears before her, rubbing at her eyes.Her yawn cuts off midway through as she gapes at the lush garden that nowexists where before there was only barren earth. “Did you do this?” she asks,looking down at the kneeling goddess.

Kore holds out her dirt covered hands. They’re trembling.She’s parched and dizzy with the effort it took to make a garden in a placewhere living things aren’t meant to thrive, to exist at all really. Styx takesthem in her own cool hands. “Do you trust me, Lady Styx?”

The child goddess nods.

“Good,” Kore sighs, nearly drooping in relief. “I need youto do me a favor. I’m going to jump in your river.”

“You can’t!” Styx says immediately, grey eyes wide. “You’retoo weak! It will kill you!”

Kore smiles.

“Yes. It will.”

~

Hades is pulled from his bed and thrown against the stonewall with such force that, if he were not who he is, he would be dizzy from it.He blinks up at Hermes towering over him. Charon shimmers into existence behindthe messenger god, scythe raised to behead him. “Don’t,” Hades said.

“You dare tell me what to do after what you’ve done?” Hermeshisses.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he says, and points.

Hermes turns. Charon still has the scythe raised. “Whydidn’t you stop her? What is the pointof you if you simply let her die?” Hermes reaches out a hand – Hades doesn’tknow what Hermes is planning to do, and he’s not interested in finding out.

He’s up in an instant, grabbing Hermes’s wrist before he cantouch Charon and holding it just tight enough that his bones creak in protest.“None of that now,” he says mildly. “What’s all the fuss about?”

“You need to come to the river,” Charon says. “The rest ofthe twelve gods are there. They are angry.”

“Demeter as well?” he asks. He’s surprised. He didn’t thinkanything could entice Demeter to face him once more.

Hermes tries to pull his arm back, but Hades doesn’t lethim. Charon is still standing within hitting distance. “Of course she’s here!Her daughter is dead!”

He stares. “What are you talking about? Kore is fine. She’shere.”

“My lord,” Charon says quietly, and this is impossible, evenif Kore had died she would simply end up here,there is no true death unless he wills it.

Unless –

“STYX!” he roars.

She doesn’t come. For the first time, Styx does not comewhen he calls.

“Come with me,” Charon begs, “Please, my lord. Come withme.”

Hades goes. They go through the courtyard, and he’s soastounded by the changes that his legs forget to move at the sight of it all.There’s a garden in the land of the dead. Flowers bloom. Tree branches hang lowwith heavy fruit. But he’s drawn to something else – there’s a small tree rightin the center that looks almost as if it’s glowing. He reaches out and touchesone of the round red fruits that he’s never seen before, and as soon as hisfingers press against the firm skin it drops into his hand.

Charon tugs at his arm, desperate, “Please, my lord, wedon’t have time.”

He nods, absently tucking the fruit in a pocket of his robe,and following Charon to the edge of the river.

Hermes, as the messenger god, is the only one able to enterhis realm without his permission. Across the grey and angrily churning riverstand all the others – Apollo, Artemis, Hestia, Athena, Hera, Poseidon,Hephaestus, Aphrodite, then at the end stand Zeus and Demeter. Hermes next toApollo, arms crossed.

“What have you done?” Demeter spits, and Hades is sure thatZeus’s hand on her arm is all that prevents the goddess from attempting to leapacross the river and tear his head from his neck. “What did you do to her?’

“Hades,” Hestia says quietly, “she – we all felt it. How didshe die?”

Demeter howls and leaps at Hestia. Poseidon stands betweenthem and holds her back, an utterly bored look on his face. “Brother, anexplanation, if you please. Some of us have our own realms to attend to.”

“Lady Styx,” he says, forcing a calmness he doesn’t feelinto his voice. “Please come here.”

There’s a moment when nothing happens, and if she makes himto track her down within his own realm, he will be cross with her. But then she appears in front of him, shoulderhunched nearly to her ears, and her grey eyes wet. “I only did as she asked!Don’t be mad at me!” she hiccups and says, quieter, “Please don’t be mad atme.”

All at once, the entirety of the fury that had been buildingin Hades’s chest leaves him. The sorrow is just as strong, but no matter what,getting angry at Styx will solve nothing. He bends down on his knee and reachesout to touch her shoulders. She flinches away from him, and he pauses. “LadyStyx,” he says softly, “I would never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

She nods, a quick, sharp motion. He slowly holds out hishands, waiting, and doesn’t bother to hide his relief when she places her cold,trembling hands in his.

“Did Kore jump in your river?”

Styx nods.

It’s what Hades expected, but he has to close his eyesagainst the tidal wave of grief that threatens to overwhelm him. The River Styxis the barrier between life in death, and as such it is neither. Those who diein the river do not go to the underworld. They are simply unmade, their bodiesdissolved and their souls broken into a thousand lost pieces. “Why?”

“She said it was the only way,” Styx look anxiously into thedepths of her river, “She’s running out of time. I told her she didn’t have alot of time, that she had to do it quickly, that I would not be able to helpher.”

Hades doesn’t understand.

“What is she talking about?” Apollo demands.

Hephaestus rubs his wrists, “Styx, are you saying – that’simpossible, she wouldn’t have enough time – she wouldn’t even be able to think to do it.”

Just then, cutting across the air: “I hadn’t expected anaudience quite this large.”

Everyone turns toward the voice.

It’s Kore.

Her eyes are now as white as her hair, and she’s almosttransparent. Across her body are tiny cracks of pulsating grey – places whereshe’s used the clay of the river to push her soul back together again. “You didit!” Styx cries, running to the edge of the river.

“Thanks to you,” she smiles, “Your river tore me apart, asit must, but you did a very good job of making sure enough of me stayedtogether so that I could find all my own pieces.”

“What are you playing at?” Demeter snaps, eyes wild. “Getout of that river, this instant!”

“She can’t,” Hades says, heart clenching in his chest. “Sheisn’t alive. Not really. She is simply of the river – if she leaves it, shewill be of nothing.”

Is a cursed river spirit the only escape she could see? Itis a clever one. Demeter won’t dare touch her, can’t touch her, for all that bound Kore to her mother died alongwith her, but – but it is not a life.

She walks across the surface of the river until she’s almostclose enough for Demeter to touch. “I am Kore no longer,” she says, faceimpassive. “I am of your body no longer, my power is not from you any longer. Iam not something you can control anylonger.”

“No,” Demeter snarls, “Now you are dead. Is it worth it?”

The woman who used to be Kore smiles. “Yes.” She turns andwalks back across the river, to Hades. She holds out her hands. “Did you bringit?”

“Bring what?’ he asks, mystified.

Styx pushes into his side and digs into his pocket. He letsher, and she pulls out the strange red fruit he’d taken from the equallystrange tree. “Here!” She tears it in half. In the fruit are bright seeds thecolor and shine of blood.

She meets his eyes, and her smile softens. “Sorry aboutthis. You’re going to have to learn to share.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks. He hasn’t felt thishopelessly confused in several millennia.

The woman who used to be Kore takes one of the fruit halvesfrom Styx. “I am the Goddess of Spring. Life from death is all I know.”

She bites into the fruit, and the juice drips down her chinlike blood. Her eyes are the first to change, no longer a terrifying white buta warm brown. Her skin darkens and color bleeds into her hair again, her curlsturning the same bright red as the fruit. The grey clay flecks off her skin,and it’s whole and unblemished.

She steps from the river onto the shore. She does notcrumple. She does not dissolve into dust.

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and with a twist ofher wrist a red gown covers her body. She lifts her skirt and stamps her feetinto the ground, laughing. Trees sprout up around them. Flowers bloom alongwater’s edge.

There is nothing that happens in this realm without hispermission. But he couldn’t stop this if he tried.

“I am Persephone!” she declares, eyes bright. “I am Queen ofthe Underworld.”

Her power is now tied up within his realm, the roots of thetrees she grew are far reaching. She’s twisted the rules of her power and his,and stolen part of his realm out from under him, found every loophole andescaped her mother’s grasp by becoming something she could never touch orunderstand, by becoming something that was already a part of her all along.

If he hadn’t fallen in love with her already, he would now.

“Might you need a king?” he murmurs, stepping closer. Theother gods are yelling from across the river, but he can’t bring himself tocare. “Ruler of the underworld is such a heavy burden to bear alone.”

She grins, all teeth, and when he gets close enough shereaches a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down until she cancover his mouth with her mouth.

His arm curls around her waist, and she lets him support herweight as he continues kissing her, as she continues kissing him, as they beginthe rest of their lives as King and Queen of the Underworld.

Half of the gods across the river are laughing, and theother half are furious, but Hades and Persephone are unconcerned.

They’re gods. There’s no need for them to stop and breath –they can continue standing on the river’s edge and kissing until everyone getsbored and leaves.

No matter how long it takes.

Hades thinks this is a most excellent beginning.

~

Later, she agrees to spend half the year with her mother tocool her temper. But her grin doesn’t leave – it is her choice, it is a decisionshe makes that neither her mother nor Hades can go against.

She is Persephone, daughter of Demeter, Queen of the Underworld,wife of Hades, Goddess of Spring.

She is Persephone.

All the choices she makes are her own.

gods and monsters series, part xxiv

read more of the gods and monster series here

[so-caffeinated]

Amelia and Will baby sit Jules's kid and at each separate moments think, damn, "Amelia/Will would make a great parent" and basically they are super sappy and can't wait

Let’s pretend this was an actual flashfic instead of something I spent like a solid day on, okay? It’s roughly 5.5k and I believe I’ve totally fulfilled the sap requirement here. This might be the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written. And yes the last line is a variation of something quite familiar. #sorrynotsorry

September 2045 - Small Blessings

It’s not like everything in Will’s life has been perfect lately. It hasn’t. He’s had his ups and downs like everyone else. But the ups? God, they’re so much better than he could have ever expected, so much higher than he’d thought they could get. It’s been six months since Amelia quite literally walked back into his life, proving beyond any doubt that they could be as amazing together as he’s always known they could be. He’s never loved anyone like he loves her, never understood how deep that love could run, not until she showed up like she walked straight out of all his dreams.

Or, well… all of his dreams at the time. He’s quickly finding that he’s building new ones.

“Did I just hear their car pull up?” she asks, placing a hand on his arm as she pulls back the curtain of his front window to look outside. He takes a moment just to watch her. Her dark hair is pulled back neatly in a ponytail - unusual for her - and she’s dressed casually, wearing jeans that really, really fit her well and a solid black t-shirt that he finds a lot more distracting than she means it to be. But he barely has a moment to look her over because her shoulders droop suddenly, answering in full her earlier question.

“Any minute,” he promises, pulling her back and kissing her shoulder. She sighs and leans back against him, letting him hold her and relish her scent. It feels like a gift. Everything with her feels like a gift, and he savors it so much every single day. He thinks he always will.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, looking a little abashed. “I’m just… I’m kind of excited, you know?”

She is. He knows that and it’s so painfully adorable that he almost can’t stand it.

“It’s gonna be an interesting weekend,” he agrees, smiling at her softly before claiming her lips. It’s far from insistent, nothing meant to escalate, but that doesn’t me that he doesn’t feel it shoot straight down his spine the instant his mouth touches hers. It’s fortifying, reassuring. He figured out months ago that he wants to kiss her like this every day for the rest of his life. There’s not even a question of that. He’s just waiting for the right moment to tell her, the right moment to ask…

They break apart and she nuzzles her nose against his with a quiet sigh of contentment. Moments like this are amongst his favorite, these days. Oh, he loves making love to her, loves exploring her body anew night after night, but something about this is almost as powerful. It’s honest and soul-baring and he wants nothing more than to revel in this unity he’s found with her.

“Think we can manage it?” she asks. He can hear the smile in her voice, even if she’s too close to see it.

“I know we can,” he counters firmly.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings and Amelia jolts, stepping away ever so slightly and letting go to smooth down imaginary wrinkles in her jeans. It’s adorable and he has to shake his head as he grins and strides toward his front door.

For all of Amelia’s attempts to look calm and put together, the image that greets him on the other side of the door does not.

“Hey, so, she stinks and she hasn’t napped and I’m sorry,” Jules says immediately, holding his fourteen-month-old niece out toward him.

“It’s fine,” Amelia replies from over his shoulder, edging him out of the way to take the baby with an absolutely awestruck smile on her face. “Hey, sweetheart,” she greets. “We’ll get you changed so that you’re much more comfortable, okay?”

“Papa?” the little girl asks, looking around.

“Papa’s not here,” Jules tells the baby, brushing wisps of dark hair back from her brow before looking back to Will. She seems frazzled, but that’s probably just the effect of motherhood. “We’d never get out of here if he had to say goodbye and we’re running late as it is.”

Will glances at the clock. Sure enough, she’s a solid twenty minutes late. This isn’t surprising in the least when it comes to Jules these days.

“You have the number for where we’re staying?” Jules asks Will worriedly, pulling his attention back. In a rush or not, she seems like she can’t keep her hand from stroking her daughter’s back.

“And both of your cell phone numbers and your mother-in-law’s cell phone number,” Will confirms. “We’re good, Jules. Everything is gonna be fine. It’s just one night.”

Jules makes a stressed little whine at that and turns to her daughter to kiss her chubby little cheeks a few times, her eyes pinched shut. “You’re staying one big sleep with Uncle Will, okay?” she asks. “Just one. Momma and Papa will be back tomorrow around dinner to pick you up.”

Little Sylvia clearly doesn’t understand, but she picks up on her mother’s distress, suddenly looking like she might cry. “Just one big sleep,” Jules says again, forcing a smile onto her face and nodding at the baby. “Uncle Will and Aunt Amelia are going to take such good care of you, baby girl.”

Yeah, using those terms absolutely steals the air from Will’s lungs and from the look on Amelia’s face, he’s pretty sure it does much the same to her.

“Oh, I… sorry,” Jules flinches, looking between them. “It’s just… well… I mean, she had to call her something, right?”

“It’s fine,” Will assures his little sister, painfully aware of the way Amelia’s gaze burns against his skin. “It’s good, actually.”

“Oh…” Jules says, blinking at him. There’s a serious conversation in their future and Will is suddenly very, very aware of that fact. “Well… good,” Jules nods sharply. “That’s good.”

“Mama?” Sylvia asks, reaching her tiny fingers out for her mother.

“One big sleep,” Jules repeats, kissing Sylvia’s fingertips. Will has to wonder if the words are more for her daughter or herself. His little sister’s eyes are visibly teary and her voice sounds clogged. “And you’re going to have so much fun with Will and Amelia, baby girl.

For someone who really hadn’t wanted kids in the first place, Jules has surely fallen terribly in love with her daughter. Will still thinks she wouldn’t have chosen to have any children, even knowing how wonderful Sylvia is, and she surely won’t have more… at least not intentionally. But sometimes fate intervenes and Will is so grateful for his beautiful little niece as well as the effect she’s had on his little sister.

“She will have fun,” Will promises, taking the diaper bag and pack-and-play from Jules’ grasp. “We all will.”

“If you have any problems…” Jules starts.

“I have your number and Felicity’s number and Amelia’s mom’s number and your mother-in-law’s number and the pediatrician’s on speed dial,” Will vows, reciting it off like a list. “Plus, I’ve been a firefighter for fourteen years. We’re good, Julie-bug. Now go. Have a fun time at the wedding and tell my favorite brother-in-law that I said hello.”

“He’s your only brother-in-law,” Jules replies with narrowed eyes.

“Easy for him to be my favorite, then, right?” Will grins cheekily. “Stop stalling. She’ll be fine. I promise. I practically raised Beth, didn’t I?”

That point seems to mollify her some, but Jules is still a bundle of anxiety. Honestly, Will can’t blame her. Were it his own kids… fictional ones he might someday have… he can’t imagine he’d be in much better shape.

“Okay,” Jules agrees reluctantly. “Okay, I know you’re right. Sylvie, baby, I love you so much and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she asks, kissing the little girl a few times again, her hand cupping the baby’s cheek. “Be a good girl, okay?”

“No,” Sylvia announces loudly. Will chooses to believe that’s in reference to her mother clearly leaving rather than the notion of being good, but he supposes that remains to be seen.

“Yes, Sylvia,” Jules counters sternly. She’d nailed that ‘mom’ voice inside of twenty minutes after giving birth and it still kinda makes Will stand up straighter on instinct. Is that just a thing all women do? Is it a switch that flips the minute you have a baby? Would Amelia be like that?

“She’ll be a good girl,” Amelia says with certainty, cuddling the little girl close to her body in spite of the fact that the child definitely needs a diaper change. It doesn’t seem to bother Amelia in the least. “I know she will.”

“Yeah…” Jules echoes, swallowing hard and biting her lip as she strokes her fingers down Sylvia’s soft, chubby little cheek. This is harder for her than she’d thought it would be, Will can tell. She leaves her daughter with family often enough, sometimes even overnight with her parents or her husband’s mother, but she’s never been out of town and it seems that makes all the difference for her.

“If she sees you upset, it’s going to upset her more,” Will points out to his sister softly.

Jules blows some air through her thinned lips and nods before forcing a smile on her face and stepping back. “Momma’s gonna go bye-bye, now. Bye-bye, honey!”

“Buh,” Sylvia says, pressing her lips to her own palm with a smacking kiss and throwing her arm wide.

Even Jules can’t help but be touched by that, reaching out and pretending to grab the kiss out of mid-air and press it to her own cheek before returning the gesture. Sylvia grins at her mother and giggles, burying her face in Amelia’s neck. Will’s hard pressed to decide which of the women in front of him have the biggest piece of his heart in this moment. Amelia’s joy at Sylvia’s affection is blinding, but Sylvia herself is so painfully cute that it hits him hard. And Jules… he’d never expected to see Jules like this, not even when she told him she was pregnant. The softness about her when she’s with her daughter feels like an entirely new facet to her personality that’s come to surface. Will knows her well, he always has, but seeing her with Sylvia is like seeing her with fresh eyes.

Then again, sometimes she’s exactly the same person he watched grow up.

“Call me,” she demands suddenly, poking him in the chest as she turns toward the door. Her voice is bossy, insistent, entirely familiar, and Will has to fight back a grin because all of a sudden she seems eight years old and trying to hide in his room to get away from Nate’s wails all over again.

“You’ve got it,” he promises.

Jules leaves with a heavy sigh and a tight smile that is entirely for her daughter’s benefit. The second she’s out the door, Sylvia’s wriggling in Amelia’s arms in an attempt to get down.

“Hold on, little one,” Amelia cautions, lowering the toddler to the ground carefully. Sylvia scurries over to the window as soon as her feet hit the floor, peeking out through the curtains to watch her mother go.

“Buh!” she waves frantically before kissing the glass, leaving little lip-prints that Will has absolutely no intention of cleaning off anytime soon. “Buh-buh!”

She’s utterly adorable, standing on her tiptoes, pressed up against the glass, and Will can’t help shaking his head at his little niece. Beth is a teenager now… somehow… and he’s missed having a baby around, missed it more than he’d realized, even. He’s thirty-seven-years-old now and until earlier this year, he hadn’t really thought a family of his own was going to be in the cards for him. But now… now he thinks maybe. Now he wonders…

“Hey you,” Amelia says, perched on the floor next to the baby. She’s laid out a changing pad from the diaper bag while Will wasn’t even looking. “Let’s get you freshened up so we can play, okay?”

Sylvia clearly knows the drill and while her vocabulary is pretty limited right now, she seems to understand most of what’s being said to her. She lies down and sticks her chunky little legs up in the air while pronouncing “ick.”

Amelia just grins at her and kisses her toes as she grabs a fresh diaper. “Very ick,” she agrees. “But you’ll feel much better in a minute or two, okay? You’re such a good girl.”

The little girl beams at the praise and looks up at Will with a huge grin on her face. “You are,” he agrees, distracting her while Amelia makes quick work of the diaper change. Sylvia’s pretty well behaved for her diaper changes most of the time, but she’s even better when she’s distracted. He sits down next to her and lets her pat his face. She likes the feel of his scruff.

“Papa?” she asks again, looking around the room.

“He’s not here, honey,” Will tells her. Her cute little lips form a disappointed pout and she sighs. If anyone in the history of the world has ever been a daddy’s girl, it’s Sylvia. The subject of kids had not been something Jules and her husband had agreed on. Reluctantly, he’d decided Jules was more important to him than children, but Will knows that hadn’t been his brother-in-law’s preference. Sylvia had been a very-much-unplanned surprise and her father has thoroughly cherished his little girl every single day of her life.

And, even at a year old, she knows it.

“All done. Let me just go wash my hands and toss this and we can play, okay?” Amelia asks, standing back up with the dirty diaper in hand.

Sylvia grins and claps in response before maneuvering to her feet and climbing onto Will’s lap. She’s a cuddly little girl, always looking for a lap or someone to hold her - these things are not in short supply in her family - and Will is more than happy to be on the receiving end of his only niece’s affection.

“Happy to be clean again, huh?” he asks with a grin as she smacks a very wet kiss against his cheek. “Maybe save some of that love for Aunt Amelia,” he tells her, tickling her side lightly and earning a giggle. “She’s the one who fixed you up.”

From over by the sink in the kitchen, Amelia tosses him a glance over her shoulder with a smile, locking eyes with his. It’s sobering and dizzying all at once. And, for a minute, the only thing he’s aware of at all is her. God, he loves her so much, wants so much with her, wants to spend every day for this rest of his life trying to earn this same little smile that reaches her eyes. It makes his heart pound in his chest and his head spin.

He’s only pulled back to reality when Sylvia eases herself off of his lap and starts to wander around the space, taking stock of her surroundings. It’s been more than a few years since Will’s had to babyproof anything - teen-proofing is another thing entirely; he sort of trusts Beth, but he also no longer keeps hard liquor in the house because she’s fifteen and he remembers fifteen a little too well. Still… he thinks he did a pretty good job. And, really, Sylvia is better at following rules than Bethy ever had been at this age.

“Woof,” Sylvia says in confusion, peeking around the sofa. “Woof woof?”

“I don’t have a dog,” Will tells her. She looks supremely confused by this, but that kind of makes sense because she’s Jules’ daughter after all. Will has no doubt whatsoever that she will always have a dog in her life. “Sorry, kiddo.”

She doesn’t look any less perplexed, but she moves on, taking in her newfound environment little by little, peeking under the sofa and crawling beneath the coffee table.

“Need help with the pack-and-play?” Amelia asks, rejoining them and sliding her hand across Will’s shoulders before stroking her thumb along his spine at his neck. He sighs quietly at her touch, revelling in the feel of her fingers on his skin.

“I got it,” he counters, turning his face to kiss the soft skin of her inner arm. She shivers in response and he smiles up at her. “Want to keep an eye on her in case I missed something with the babyproofing?”

“Happy to,” she agrees. And she is, that much is immediately clear as she leaves his side and bends down to peek her head under the coffee table where Sylvia is just about to emerge. The baby gives a little squeak of surprise or delight. “Are we playing hide-and-seek, little one?” Amelia asks with a blinding grin. Sylvia giggles madly and tries to scurry away, but Amelia reaches out and grabs the little girl, swooping her up and blowing a raspberry against her neck.

Something about his niece’s laughter and his girlfriend’s flushed cheeks is utterly addictive and Will finds himself transfixed by the pair of them right up until Amelia turns away with the baby on her hip, talking softly to her as they head toward the kitchen. They make quite the picture together and Will finds himself hurrying to put together the pack-and-play so he can get back to being with them. The portable playpen/crib is fairly easy to set up and he’s done relatively quickly, moving it to his room before heading back out in search of Sylvia and Amelia.

They’re still in the kitchen and he finds them entirely because Sylvia can’t stop laughing. Those huge eyes of hers - so like Jules’, even if the color is different - alight with utter glee. She’s strapped into a booster seat at the table with a small plate of fruit in front of her, but she’s paying no attention at all to her snack, instead pulling a dishtowel away from Amelia’s face over and over in what has to be the world’s most entertaining game of peek-a-boo.

Will would be hard pressed to guess which of them looks happier. The delight on Sylvia’s face seems to fuel Amelia’s joy and he’s just… he’s so taken by it that he can scarcely breathe.

God, she’ll make an amazing mother. The very idea of her doing this with their baby one day, of their home together being filled with this kind of laughter and joy, it sends his pulse racing and his heart on fire. And he wants it.

If he hadn’t already bought a ring months ago, he’d be doing it the first chance he had now.

Abruptly, Sylvia grabs the dishtowel and yanks it a away, throwing it across the room with another boisterous giggle. The mock surprise on Amelia’s face seems to further delight the little girl and in spite of the fact that Sylvia really doesn’t know Amelia all that well, it’s pretty clear she’s developed a fast affection for her so-called ‘Aunt.’

“Up!” she declares, reaching for Amelia. “Up, up, up.”

Amelia’s more than happy to hold the baby and she unstraps her quickly before hoisting her into her arms. Sylvia gives a happy little sigh, snuggling up as close as she possibly can - she’s been a cuddler from day one - and Amelia looks so overjoyed by the toddler’s affection that Will wouldn’t be surprised to see her cry. She strokes the baby’s dark hair as she holds her close, looking like there’s nowhere in the world she’d rather be.

“Such a good girl, Sylvia,” Amelia assures her. “You’re very good at that game, do you know that? Thank you for playing with me.”

Sylvia nods and pats her on the cheek, like she’s offering up her approval, and it just makes Amelia smile more.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” Will tells them softly, closing in on the pair of them and wrapping his arms around Amelia before dropping a kiss atop Sylvia’s head.

“We are,” Amelia assures him. “But I think maybe I’ve worn her out.”

“No!” Sylvia protests. It would be a lot more convincing if she didn’t break into a yawn immediately at the end.

“You’re stronger than me, then!” Amelia tells her, raising both eyebrows as she looks down at the child. “You made me tired. I think I need a nap.”

“No,” Sylvia says again, shaking her head fiercely.

“Well, if I don’t nap, I don’t know how I’ll play more,” Amelia confides. “And I’d love to play more with you later, sweetie. Uncle Will and I had fun ideas for us to do together, but I’m too tired right now. Can I nap? Maybe you can help me fall asleep if you lie down with me?”

The skeptical look on Sylvia’s face is absolutely absurd for a one-year-old, and Will has to bite down on his lips to try and cage in a grin. Easygoing kid or not, she’s Jules’ daughter and the occasional case of extreme wariness is something she comes by honestly.  

“Up,” she says, turning toward Will and holding out her arms, clearly looking for an alternative to a nap.

“I need a nap, too,” Will tells her. “Putting your bed together was a lot of work.” She huffs and clings to Amelia again - clearly he’s only good for avoiding naptime when Amelia’s around. He can’t resent that. He’d choose her company, too.

“Let’s go see where Uncle put your pack-and-play. We’ll just check it out,” Amelia says. “Would you like to walk or have me carry you?”

The illusion of having a choice about what happens seems to help a bit and Sylvia clings to Amelia’s shirt muttering “up” on a yawn. Even as good and sweet as she is, naptime has never been easy with the little girl. She seems like she’s afraid she’s going to miss everything going on if she naps.

Amelia heads toward Will’s room - it’s hers too, more often than not these days - and bops Sylvia lightly on the nose as soon as they make it through the threshold. “Look at that!” she declares. “Uncle Will put it next to the bed so we can lie down right beside each other still. Wasn’t that a good idea? We should try it out.”

It almost works. Sylvia’s interested enough that she doesn’t wail immediately. But the moment Amelia’s set her down in the makeshift crib she bursts out into tears, stomping her feet and lifting her arms skyward. “No! Up! Up!”

“Okay, okay,” Amelia relents with a sigh, picking the baby up and soothing her hiccupping sobs by rubbing her back and making low hushing noises. There’s little chance of Sylvia letting go anytime soon, something it’s clear Amelia knows when she meets his eyes over the toddler’s head, giving a little shrug.

“Momma?” Sylvia asks suddenly, looking around the room like she’s just realized her mother isn’t there. Her big eyes water and her lower lip quivers as she works herself up to another bout of hysteria.

“It’s just us for right now, Sylvia,” Will says, sitting on the bed next to Amelia and cupping the back of Sylvia’s head gently. “We’re having a play date. Your momma and papa will be back tomorrow.

She looks so helpless, casting her eyes between them, and it sort of breaks Will’s heart to see her distress. “Momma,” she says again in a resigned, mournful little voice that would absolutely gut Jules if she heard it.

“Oh, sweetie. It’s okay,” Amelia consoles, rocking the little girl back and forth gently. Sylvia’s eyes droop tiredly, but she seems like she’s forcing them to stay open. “What does Jules sing to her to get her to sleep?” Amelia asks after a moment.

Will finds himself blinking back at her in surprise. “I’m pretty sure her singing isn’t capable of putting anyone to sleep,” Will informs her.

“She doesn’t sing lullabies?” Amelia questions in surprise.

“It’s incredibly clear right now that you’ve never heard my sister sing,” Will tells her. “Let’s just say it’s not one of her strengths.”

It is, however, one of Amelia’s. He’s known that for a very long time, since he walked into a supply room in City Hall more than a decade ago and stopped dead in his tracks, absolutely floored by her voice as she sang to herself, sifting through boxes of old files. Still, it’s not something he’s heard in a very long time now and it makes his breath catch in his throat when she stands up, starts pacing the room while holding Sylvia close and rocks the baby as she sings.

And he’s not the only one. Sylvia looks utterly entranced as well, her lips parting as she stares up at Amelia in awe.

Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, there’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby…

It’s incredible to watch the effect her voice has on Sylvia. For a moment, he’s tempted to take a video for Jules, but this feels too private for that, for some reason, too personal, and he finds he doesn’t want to share it. Not even with his sister.

Amelia tucks the baby’s head into the crook of her neck and rocks her gently as she goes through the song three times, a little softer with each verse, and Sylvia is fast asleep before much time at all.

“You’re incredible,” Will tells her without even thinking about the words as she settles the toddler down into the makeshift crib. Sylvia doesn’t stir in the least.

“It’s just a song,” she murmurs, though she clearly looks pleased by his praise.

“It’s not,” he counters, shaking his head and watching her in amazement. “It’s you. It’s everything about you.”

She blushes - actually blushes - as she looks down to where Sylvia sleeps soundly before taking Will’s fingers in hers and leading him out of the room. He follows easily, but doesn’t stop when she does, instead backing her up against the wall and pressing her to it with the length of his body as he cups her face in his hands and he kisses her breathless.

He pours everything into that moment - everything he wants to say, every ounce of what he feels - and when he pulls back slightly, she looks beautifully dazed.

“What was that for?” she asks. Her voice is soft and a little weak, something he revels in as he touches his nose to hers and strokes his thumbs across her cheeks. He could not cherish this moment more if he tried.

“Every time I think I couldn’t possibly love you more, you prove me wrong,” he tells her. It’s simple, but true.

“Because I sang?” she asks with a little laugh.

“For a million reasons,” he answers with painful sincerity. His voice is raw and a little hoarse as speaks, tracing the lines of her face with his gaze. Letting himself be vulnerable with her, with any woman, had been a hard-won lesson, but it’s so very worth it and moments like this one prove that to him every single day. She slides her arms around his neck, sending a shiver down his spine, and kisses him in a long, slow way that leaves him feeling simultaneously like the world might be dissolving beneath his feet and like the two of them are more unified than ever.

“I love you, too, Will,” she says, scraping her fingers through his hair when they finally part. She doesn’t go far. “So much.”

In the end, Sylvia doesn’t sleep all that long - maybe half an hour at most - but they spend the entire time making out on his sofa like teenagers. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips swollen, her shirt a lot less tidy and her ponytail nowhere near as neat by the time Sylvia loudly makes it known that her nap is done.

He’s thirty-seven-years-old and this is the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life.

Because of her. Because of himself. Because of how far they’ve come both individually and together.

The future looks bright to him, these days. It’s not like everything’s perfect; it’s not. But the weekend plays out before him like a ghostly image of the future that holds everything he wants. And, for the first time maybe ever, it feels like it’s all in within his reach.

They shower Sylvia with enough love and attention that she only rarely asks for her parents and she copes pretty well well with the separation. Better than Jules and her husband, actually, if the text messages Will gets are anything to go by. But, they’re reassured by a handful of calls and a dozen photos of their little girl giggling and having fun.

And she does.

Will and Amelia take her swimming and she delights in splashing them both in the face at every opportunity, but especially her uncle. Will would love to dunk Amelia and start some kind of water war, but he doesn’t dare when one of them needs to keep a hand on the one-year-old at all times. So instead, he holds them both in his arms as Sylvia grins mischievously and slaps her hands against the surface of the pool over and over, sending a spray of water everywhere.

The whole thing wears the little girl out and she falls asleep on Amelia’s lap watching Sesame Street shortly after they get back to his apartment and get cleaned up. Amelia makes no move to put her in the crib this time, though. And it’s a full hour later before Sylvia wakes and either of them go anywhere. Will hasn’t moved in that time, either, honestly. He’d wedged himself behind his girlfriend so that her head rested on his lap as the baby napped. They’d talked in hushed tones about plans for dinner, for the next day, for the game next weekend as he stroked her hair and Sylvia slept on.

In some ways, it’s amazing how easily their lives change to accommodate a child. Sure, it’s just for a weekend, but everything feels like it slides just slightly so that it all fits into place and Will finds himself thinking he could do this - they could do this - day in and day out.

Some of that is a credit to Sylvia herself, though. She’s admittedly a very easy child, sweet and loving, generally happy and rule-abiding. She only tries once to get into Beth’s room - the teen isn’t around this weekend, but she still has her own space; she will always have a room at her brother’s home. The child safety door knob keeps her out, but she also doesn’t try it again after Will scolds her lightly.

The only real challenge with her comes around two in the morning when she wakes up in hysterics sobbing for her parents. That’s a hard moment and nothing Will or Amelia can say seems to make a difference. Amelia tries to sing to her, but it doesn’t work this time. Sylvia pushes Amelia’s face away with her little hands as she wails for her parents over and over again.

It’s only when Will lies down, holding his niece against his chest that she starts to calm down. Her fingers stroke the tattoo on his bicep and she looks up at him with increasing awareness in her tired eyes. He talks to her in low tones, tells her stories about her mom, about her aunt and uncle, about her dad, about her grandparents. She probably doesn’t understand much of it, but his voice is soothing and she seems to find comfort against the warmth of his chest, curling up atop him and drifting back to sleep as he rubs her back and rambles on.

When he’s sure she’s asleep, he finally looks to where Amelia lies next to him and finds her staring with an awed expression on her face and a look of realization in her eyes.  

“What?” he asks, wrinkling his brow as he smiles at her.

“Every time I think I couldn’t possibly love you more, you prove me wrong,” she echoes, repeating his words from earlier. “How did I get this lucky?”

“We both did,” he replies immediately, slipping his hand into hers and intertwining their fingers together.

“Yeah,” she echoes, scooting closer until they’re pressed against each other, Sylvia still fast asleep atop him. Amelia tugs his free arm around her and rests their joined hands on the baby. She’s basically as close as she can be, close enough that he can see the adoration in her eyes, the contentment, and it brings with it a surge of the most incredible feeling of completion. “We did,” she continues, pressing a chaste but meaningful kiss to his lips. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

“Amelia,” he sighs, soaking in her closeness and savoring it for the gift he knows it is. “It was always gonna be you. There was never another choice to make.”