#i guess we'll see can i make a story out of it huh

[tackykachowch]

Hey guys remember that terrible letter in s2? Well, how about I tell you that it's actually worse than it seems?

Alright. For the purpose of my point being more clear I'll recite it here. *barely held in gag*

"Silco. I've looked everywhere, but it's clear that you don't want to be found. Oh, God, I'm shit at this (THEN WHY ARE YOU EVEN WRITING IT YOU STUPID IDIOT. Sorry). I'm sorry. When she died, I lost my head. I told myself that what I did to you was for the greater good, that you deserved it. But the dirt was on both our hands. Anyway, you know where to find me. Blisters and Bedrock"

So, it is obvious that Vander regrets what he did to Silco and that he doesn't view him as a "villian of the story" anymore, so to speak. His murder attempt was purely emotional rather than motivated by ideological opposition or something else. Great.

Buuuut let's rewind to the very start of the series. Right to episode one. There. Take a look at these screenshots.

So Vander says to Benzo that there's someone on their side (the Undercity) who is worse than enforcers. Not even someONE, but someTHING. This implies quite a big level of resentment if you ask me. While he's saying that, he looks at his right hand and touches his uhh...I don't. Know how this thing's called I'm sorry. Let's call it a leather cover. There's clearly a reason why he wears it now, and this seems to be connected to the "thing" they're talking about. Alright. I guess we'll find out more about this later.

Fast forward to episode three. Heeeeey, what is THAT??

So Silco cut his hand?? Well, that all makes sense now then. Something brought Silco and Vander to a conflict, which resulted in Vander trying to kill Silco, and Silco cutting Vander's hand when he was escaping from him. For now (💀) we don't know what exactly caused such a rift between them, but it apparently was something pretty serious considering that Vander even stopped referring to Silco as a person. While he does later says to Silco that what he did to him was wrong, but nothing indicates that Vander changed his opinion on WHY he did it.

Now, there could be an argument that Silco did something that made Vander hate Silco AFTER the river scene, and this is why Vander thinks so badly of him. But earlier in the same episode we see THIS reaction from Vander when Silco appears.

So here's the question: why would Vander react like that to seeing Silco if he knew of something horrible he did post their fallout? What's more likely, he hasn't heard anything about Silco AT ALL, whether he's dead or alive or what he does. So Vander's opinion of Silco ("something worse than enforcers") formed prior to their falling out and it didn't change over time.

Now that we have all that information let's go back to our dear, favorite letter.

Uhhhh so. Vander is an incredibly awful person???? Either that, or he has an extremely severe case of amnesia. Because why would he go from wanting to reconcile with Silco and not blaming him for what happened straight into thinking that he's worse than enforcers and not even a person?? Or in his mind these things can coexist somehow?? And to add to all of that, apparently he never told Benzo the truth about their falling out, and made him think that Silco is an "animal". What, was Vander so butthurt by Silco never contacting him that he went full 5-year-old-mode "Humph!! I hate you now!!" and proceeded to lie to everyone about Silco?? So much for a reasonable and peaceful leader of the Lanes, huh.

But we all know that's not the case at all. The case is, of course, that writers forgot to rewatch season 1 and made up a reason for Vander and Silco to fight which is not at all aligns with what we knew about them and their relationship before. This is, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, one of the biggest cases of negligence in storytelling that I've ever seen.

[fatecantstopme]

She's My Siren

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: The boys are working a case where several men have brutally murdered their wives for no apparent reason. Turns out they were influenced by a siren. The siren sees Dean and appears to him as someone he knows.

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), face sitting. Fluffy fluff fluff.

"So what do you think this is? Just a bunch of dudes ganking their wives?"

"I mean, that's what's happening," Sam replied with a shrug. "but I think something is making them do it."

"Well they're not possessed, so what's doing it?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea. Maybe we should call Bobby and (Y/N)."

Dean groaned. "She's gonna laugh at us for not figuring it out."

Sam smiled. "Probably, but we do need their help."

"Fine," Dean grumbled.

Sam pulled out his phone and dialed a very familiar number.

"Hey Sam. Having some trouble?" Bobby answered on the second ring.

"We can't figure out what's causing these guys to kill their wives."

"Tell me what you've got so far," (Y/N)'s voice said from the other end of the phone.

Sam put the phone on speaker so Dean could talk. "All we've got is four guys who murdered their wives for basically no reason. No possession, no shapeshifters, nada."

"All the husbands knew exactly what they were doing...and they all regret it," Sam added.

"Anything else?" Bobby asked.

"All of them met their 'perfect' woman not long before killing their wives," Dean answered.

"Define 'perfect'," (Y/N) said.

"They all said 'she was perfect in every way. Exactly what I wanted'," Sam responded.

The boys couldn't see the look Bobby and (Y/N) exchanged, but they did hear her soft chuckle. "And you boys couldn't think of anything that could fit that description?"

Dean gave Sam an 'I told you so' look. "I'm guessing you have something in mind?" he said aloud.

"I do indeed," she answered. "Ever hear of a Siren?"

"A Siren?" Dean asked. "Like Greek Mythology?"

Sam gave Dean a surprised look.

"I can read, you know," Dean mumbled.

"Yes, like Greek Mythology," (Y/N) said with a small smile. "What do you remember from the stories?"

"Uhh...they're super hot women who lured sailors to their deaths?" Dean said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and Bobby chuckled. "Sort of," Bobby replied. "They're actually quite hideous, but they can read minds. They appear to the guy as their ideal perfect woman, put some mojo on them, and make them kill."

"What kind of mojo?" Dean asked.

"Don't really know," Bobby answered. "Siren songs aren't really songs...more like a spell that falls on the person."

"Okay, so how do we find her?" Sam asked.

"Honestly, boys, my money is on her finding you," (Y/N) said.

"Great," Dean mumbled. "So...how do we kill a Siren?"

"We're...uh--gonna have to get back to you on that one," Bobby said.

"Just keep your eyes peeled and don't do anything stupid," (Y/N) said. "We'll get back to you as soon as we find something."

"Thanks guys," Sam said before hanging up.

"Sooo a Siren, huh?"

"Looks like it."

"Who do you think she's gonna look like?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Probably one of those chicks from 'Busty Asian Beauties' you're obsessed with."

Dean's eyes lit up. "Hell yes. Let's go find us a Siren."

**********

(Y/N) and Bobby had been digging through lore books for hours before they managed to find something potentially useful.

"I love a good 3,000 year old text," (Y/N) mumbled in annoyance.

"I'm not even sure what it means," Bobby responded.

"You're supposed to be the expert, Singer," she teased.

He chuckled. "Let me see it again."

He took the book from her and read the passage again...and again...and one more time for effect. "I think I've got it."

Bobby explained his reasoning to her and she agreed. She placed a call to Sam, but he didn't answer. When she called Dean, he picked up almost immediately.

"You got something for me, sweetheart?"

An almost imperceptible shudder ran through her body at the pet name. She was used to him calling her that and other similar names, but it never ceased to have an effect on her. She knew he called all the girls 'sweetheart', so she knew it didn't mean anything...not that she wanted it to...right?

"Bobby and I think we figured out how to kill her."

"Lay it on me."

She cleared her throat. "Uh, you'll need a stake, dipped in the blood of someone actively under her spell...then just stab her."

"Okay, sounds easy enough. We'll just get some blood from one of the poor saps sitting in a jail cell."

"Not quite, Dean," Bobby cut in. "The guy has to be actively under her spell...none of those guys are anymore."

"Damn. Okay, so how do we get it?"

"I have a terrible plan, but it should work," (Y/N) said.

"I'm always down for a terrible plan," Dean responded.

"Find the Siren, one of you gets dosed, the other uses his blood to gank her."

"You want us to get dosed?" Dean asked in surprise.

"Obviously not, but it's a surefire way to get the job done. As long as only one of you gets dosed."

"What happens if we both get it?"

"You'll probably try to kill each other," Bobby answered.

"Great. That's just great," Dean grumbled.

"If you've got a better plan, go for it," (Y/N) said with a shrug.

"We'll make it work. I'll call you when we're finished." Dean hung up without another word.

(Y/N) and Bobby exchanged another glance.

"Carvistly is what, three hours from here?" she asked.

Bobby nodded. "We should probably head that way."

"Agreed."

**********

"Any luck tracking down the Siren?" Dean asked when Sam walked into the motel room.

"Nope. Any word from Bobby or (Y/N)?"

"Got a way to kill her and a...rather terrible plan."

Dean explained (Y/N)'s plan, as well as how to kill the Siren.

"You're right, that's a terrible plan," Sam said when Dean finished.

"Yeah, but it's all we've got."

"Fine...but how do we find her? I mean, I've talked to all the vics and they all described a different chick. We have no idea what she's gonna look like."

"That's true. Guess we'll just have to hang out at the bar and hope she comes to us."

"We're lucky there's only one bar in town," Sam commented.

"Dude, for real."

The two hunters made their way to the bar and got themselves a high top table towards the back of the room, giving them a good vantage point of the rest of the bar.

"Do we even know how she's picking her targets?" Dean asked.

"Well, all of the guys have been married so far, but I'm sure she'll go for just about any guy desperate enough," Sam answered with a pointed look.

"What's the look for? You saying I'm desperate?"

Sam shrugged.

"I'm not desperate."

"Right...when was the last time you got laid?"

Dean scoffed. "All the time, man."

Sam raised his eyebrows and Dean groaned.

"Okay, fine, so it's been a while. That doesn't make me desperate."

"Whatever you say, Dean."

Dean grumbled as he took a swig of his beer. He was not desperate. Absolutely not. Dean Winchester was never desperate. Maybe he just hadn't been horny lately...a man doesn't need to get laid every day. It had absolutely nothing to do with a certain hunter he couldn't get off his mind. Definitely not.

Sam was scanning the bar, looking for anyone who seemed out of place...but no one was catching his eye. He felt a little bad for teasing his brother, but he just wanted Dean to admit the truth.

"I'm gonna hit the head," Dean mumbled.

He watched Dean walk to the bathroom, several pairs of eyes on him the entire time. Most were women, but none of them stood out as concerning. Just the typical hot bimbos Dean always seemed to take home.

Sam's mind began to wander a bit while he waited for his brother to return. He had a lot on his mind and working this job was, unfortunately, not his priority.

Dean made his way back from the bathroom, jarring Sam out of his trance. "I'm gonna get another beer. Want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Sam replied.

Dean walked off towards the bar and Sam's eyes followed him out of habit. Dean was halfway to the bar when a woman approached him. Sam's jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw her. Had Dean not told him (Y/N) had called from Bobby's two hours ago, he would have been certain she was here in the bar.

He watched the woman walk up to Dean and touch his arm, and he was out of his seat and heading their direction in an instant.

"Hey there, handsome," a woman said from beside him, her hand touching his arm.

When Dean turned to face her, shock lit up his handsome face. He knew it wasn't her, but the resemblance was so uncanny, he almost believed it for a moment.

Realizing the woman before him was the Siren, he quickly regained his cool. "Well hello to you too," he said with a smirk.

"How 'bout you buy me a drink?" she said lightly.

Her voice is wrong, he thought to himself. "I'd love to," he said aloud.

He followed her towards the bar, turning to see Sammy following close behind. The expression on Sam's face told him that his little brother knew what was happening.

Dean held back a little, allowing Sam to catch up to him.

"Dude, she--" Sam began.

Dean glared at him. “Not of word of this to (Y/N), Sammy. Not a word.”

Feeling a little more comfortable knowing his backup was there, Dean continued to follow the Siren. When they reached the bar, he ordered a beer and she ordered some fruity cocktail.

"So what's your name, beautiful?" Dean asked.

"Kimberly."

"Hi, Kimberly. I'm Dean." I guess she doesn't know everything...

"It's nice to meet you, Dean."

The bartender handed them their drinks and Dean followed her to a solitary booth in the far corner of the bar. Dean noticed Sam taking a seat not too far away.

The Siren leaned in close and began chatting with Dean, laying on the flirtation very thick. Despite the fact she was literally wearing the face of the one woman Dean really loved, he found it very hard to reciprocate.

Thankfully, the Siren didn't seem to notice. In all honesty, Dean's bad flirting was better than most of the population's good flirting.

A half hour and another round of drinks later, Dean found himself mere inches from the Siren. Her scent was intoxicating, and he wondered for a moment if that was the 'mojo'...except he didn't feel any different. He knew it had to be something else.

"Your lips look so soft," the Siren muttered as she reached up a hand to touch them.

"They are," Dean murmured as he leaned in closer. "Wanna find out?"

She smiled and for a moment--just a moment--Dean forgot that it wasn't her. His eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. He was instantly intoxicated by her...he wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice screamed at him, reminding him she was a Siren, but the feeling of desire--of mindless devotion--quickly overcame the voice.

After what felt like an eternity, she broke the kiss. Dean was breathless, but he knew he would have happily suffocated to death kissing her.

"Why don't you take me back to your place?" she asked, voice suddenly sultrier than he remembered it being before.

He wanted nothing more than to take her to his bed, so he agreed without hesitation. Dean took her by the hand and guided her outside, helping her into the Impala, and taking off without a second thought.

Sam came running out of the bar, just in time to see Dean speeding away with the Siren in his passenger seat. "Shit..."

When Dean arrived back at the motel, he escorted "Kimberly" into his room. "Sorry for the mess," he said quickly as he knocked a few books off his bed.

"Don't worry," she said as she came up to him and ran her hands up his chest. "I don't mind a little mess."

Dean looked down at her and let out a soft groan. "God, you are so beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled knowingly. She had been more than a little surprised when she read his mind at the bar...it was rare to meet a man who's ideal girl wasn't a tall, thin, bombshell, especially a man who looked like him. But she knew what he wanted and she was more than happy to give it to him...until she got what she wanted.

Dean kissed her passionately and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He began to slowly peel off her clothes and she tugged at his shirt. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head.

Suddenly, someone knocked on their door.

Dean groaned. "Ignore it."

She was happy to do so and continued to kiss him.

"Dean!" Sam yelled from the other side of the door.

Dean pulled away for a moment. "Kinda busy here Sammy," he called.

"Open the damn door, Dean! She's not who you think!"

"Don't listen to him," the Siren said. "He wants me all to himself."

Dean's eyes darkened. "But you're mine."

"That's right, sweetie. All yours," she purred. "And I can be yours forever if you just get rid of him."

"Get rid of him?"

"You have to kill him, Dean, or he'll take me away from you."

"That's never gonna happen, baby." Dean stood up and crossed the room.

The moment he opened the door, Sam punched him in the face, sending him spiraling back into the room. The Siren watched with a smile as the two men fought each other.

"Dean, you gotta snap out of it!" Sam yelled.

"You can't have her. I won't let you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Kimberly's mine, Sammy," Dean insisted as he swung at his brother.

Sam ducked out of the way and slipped behind him. Dean swung his foot around and managed to knock Sam to the floor.

The Siren stood off to the side, egging Dean on. "Kill him for me, Dean. We can be together if you just kill him."

Dean was on top of Sam, punching him repeatedly. Sam reached into his jacket and managed to grab ahold of the stake. He jabbed Dean in the arm and kneed him in the groin with a mumbled apology.

Dean groaned loudly and Sam pushed him off and onto the floor. When he stood up, the Siren noticed the stake in his hand, but it was too late. Sam was blocking her exit. She turned to run towards the window, but Sam was faster. He stabbed the stake into her back and she fell to the ground with a scream and a thud.

Sam turned back to his brother, who was now kneeling on the floor. "You okay, Dean?"

Dean looked up at him with a glare. "Did you really have to go for the goods, man?"

Sam chuckled lightly. "Sorry about that, but you were being a dick."

"I was hopped up on Siren juice, dude!"

"Well lookie here, guess they don't need our help after all," Bobby said from the open doorway.

(Y/N) came up beside him with a smirk. "Nice work you two. We thought you might need some backup, but looks like we were wrong."

"We can help with the body dump at least," Bobby said.

Bobby and (Y/N) stepped into the room and Dean yelled "no!" in an oddly high pitched voice. (Y/N) did her best not to look in Dean's direction, despite his outburst...his shirtless form made her stomach do somersaults.

"Jesus, Sam, how hard did you hit him?" Bobby asked.

Dean scrambled to get to his feet, but he wasn't fast enough to stop (Y/N) from seeing the Siren. Sam had reached for her, but he saw the look on her face and knew it was too late.

"I don't think that's his problem..." (Y/N) said softly, pointing to the body of the Siren.

Bobby came up beside her and cursed under his breath. He and Sam made eye contact and slowly started to back out of the room.

"Does anyone want to tell me why the Siren looks like my twin?" (Y/N) asked, stopping everyone in their tracks. She turned to fix all three men with a hard stare.

"We're just gonna...umm--go, uh anywhere else," Bobby said. He grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him from the room, closing the door behind them.

(Y/N) fixed her intense gaze on Dean. "Well?"

"I--um, well--you see, I...um." He couldn't quite meet her eyes.

(Y/N)'s expression softened. She could see his discomfort matched her own. "Sit," she said gently, gesturing to the bed nearest the door. "And maybe put on a shirt."

Dean sat down, tugging his shirt back over his head. She sat across from him, finally able to look at him without feeling incredibly awkward.

"It just sorta...happened," Dean mumbled.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah--you musta been on my mind when she read it, ya know? So she made herself look like you." He didn't want to tell her the truth...all this time he'd spent pretending he didn't feel this way was going to be thrown out the window in an instant.

"That's not how it works, Dean," she said softly. "Sirens can see your innermost desire...the woman of your dreams."

Dean let out a little groan and bit his lip. He exhaled heavily and finally lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Guess there's no point in lying then."

She shook her head. "Not really."

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest. It was so loud that he was surprised (Y/N) couldn't hear it. She looked beautiful, sitting there with a confused and concerned expression on her face. For the first time in the years he'd known her, he was struggling to push his feelings back down. Now that the box had been opened, he couldn't put them back.

"She didn't get your voice right," he said softly.

"What?"

"Your voice...it wasn't right. It was missing the softness...the--" he struggled to find the right word, "--the melody."

"You think my voice is melodious?" she asked in surprise.

"I think it's the most beautiful sound in the world."

She laughed, thinking he had to be joking. When his expression didn't change, her laughter came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, you're serious..."

"I changed my mind. Your voice is the second most beautiful sound in the world."

She swallowed thickly. "What's the first?"

Dean smirked as he crossed the short space between them and sat on the bed directly beside her. "Your laugh," he whispered.

Her breath caught in her chest as she looked at him. His expression was something she'd never seen on his face before, but it sure looked a hell of a lot like lust.

"Dean..."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm clumsily telling you how I feel about you," he answered honestly.

"That you like my laugh and my voice?"

He sighed. "I like them because they're yours."

She wanted to believe it, but she couldn't wrap her brain around the idea that Dean Winchester liked her. It wasn't even remotely possible, so he clearly had to still be under the Siren's spell. There had to be some alternate explanation for why the Siren took on her appearance.

"I guess the Siren's mojo really screwed with your head."

Dean shook his head. "It didn't mess with my head, (Y/N/N). It just made me face something I've felt for a long time."

Her breathing sped up as she stared into his eyes. "And what is it you feel?"

"Affection," he answered. "Adoration...devotion, desire, longing." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering on her cheek. "Love," he finished softly.

She inhaled sharply, disbelief evident on her face. "You love me?"

"With everything I have."

"Why?"

Surprise lit up his face and he dropped his hand. "Why? What do you mean, why?"

"I mean, why would you love me of all people?"

"I don't really know how to answer that...I just--I just do."

She shook her head and stood up. She began to pace and the words tumbled from her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. "There is absolutely no way that you, Dean Winchester, love me. I mean, look at you! You're literally perfection in human form. Every woman on planet earth with a set of working eyeballs wants you. You could have your pick of any fish in the sea! I've seen the women you go home with, Dean, and they sure as hell don't look like me. I'm not what any man would use to define the 'ideal woman'...I'm short, I'm certainly not thin--I've got hips and thighs and a big ass, not to mention large boobs and a soft stomach. There is nothing special about me. Someone like you isn't meant to be with someone like me."

Dean stood up and grabbed her, pulling her to a stop directly in front of him. "Are you done now?"

She was slightly breathless as she nodded.

"Okay, good. Now listen--I'm not perfect. Not even close. I'm aware that I'm attractive, but inside? Shit, (Y/N), I'm damaged goods. Beyond damaged. Why do you think I only bring home chicks that look like that? Baby, they're easy to entice home and there's zero strings attached. I've kept my feelings buried for so long, it just became easier to pretend they didn't exist. It kept you safe...I didn't want to expose you to the darkness that lives inside me. You deserve so much better than me, (Y/N)."

She stood there in stunned silence--unable to grasp a single word to say.

"And another thing--you're my ideal woman. I don't give a damn what society's beauty standards are. For the record, I love your thick thighs and that gorgeous ass of yours. I love your boobs, and your hips, and your stomach--baby, I love all of you. You're perfect. So don't you dare tell me you're not meant to be with someone like me...because in reality, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"Dean," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he tried to stamp out the terror that she was about to rip his heart out. He opened his eyes again and saw the whirlwind of emotions in her eyes. "Yes?" he asked tentatively.

"Please kiss me," she murmured.

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips crashed against hers in a searing kiss. He moaned softly, licking against her lips, silently begging to be let in.

She parted her lips, allowing his tongue entry. She sighed as he tightened his grip on her, pulling her flush against his chest.

Dean deepened the kiss, large hands roaming her soft body until they landed on her round ass. He gave it a light squeeze and she responded with a little moan.

Dean broke the kiss to begin trailing down her jaw to her neck. His lips felt like heaven against her skin and she clung to him, head tossed back in pleasure.

He nipped at her pulse point and she moaned softly, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He pulled away from her, slightly breathless, and leaned his forehead against hers. "I take it back," he whispered.

"What?"

"I've got a new favorite sound."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

He grinned devilishly. "Those pretty little moans you make? Those are my new favorite."

Her eyes widened slightly, but a small smile played at her lips. "I bet if you try hard enough, you can hear a few more."

He chuckled. "Oh, baby, you ain't seen nothing yet."

"Uhhh guys?" Sam suddenly said from the doorway.

They both turned their heads to face him, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

"Little busy here, Sammy," Dean grumbled.

"I can see that, but umm...dead monster body," he said as he pointed at the Siren's body.

"Gross," Dean mumbled. "I forgot about that."

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. "We should probably take care of that."

He nodded. "We'll pick up where we left off later." He shot her a wink and gave her another kiss before peeling himself off of her.

**********

An hour later, the body had been properly disposed of and everyone was ready to head home.

"You boys wanna come back to my place and rest for a few days?" Bobby asked.

Dean looked over at (Y/N) before turning his attention back to the older man. "Yeah, Bobby, I think we could use the rest." He glanced back over at (Y/N) just in time to see the soft smile on her lips.

Bobby nodded. "Sam, why don't you ride with me?"

Sam looked confused for a moment, but realization quickly lit up his face. "Oh, yeah--right. Sure. I'll uh, see you guys later, then."

"Mhm," Dean hummed, clearly not really listening anymore.

Bobby and Sam got into Bobby's car and drove off, leaving Dean and (Y/N) alone.

"So, uh...whatcha say we stop at the nearest motel on the way?" Dean asked with a sheepish grin.

She smiled. "I think I could be persuaded."

He grinned fully, reaching out to grab ahold of her and pull her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he leaned down to kiss her.

Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to take her right then and there, but he wanted better for her. Her kiss lit a fire inside of him that burned more brightly than he had ever felt before. He wanted her with a kind of desperation he had never known was possible.

"Why don't we skip the motel," she whispered against his lips.

"Huh?"

She glanced at the Impala. "The backseat is pretty spacious."

He chuckled. "It's plenty big enough, but I don't want our first time together to be in the back of a car. I wanna make love to you properly--on a bed."

She smiled, practically melting against him. "Then you better drive fast, because I don't know how long I can wait."

His eyes widened. "Yes ma'am."

She laughed lightly as he opened up the car door for her and she slid into the passenger seat. Dean ran to the other side of the car and jammed the key into the ignition. The car roared to life and he sped off toward the highway.

**********

"Oh thank God," Dean mumbled about 20 minutes into the drive. "There's a motel 10 miles up."

(Y/N) laughed warmly. "Step on it, handsome."

He grinned and laid his foot down a little harder on the accelerator. Less than 5 minutes later, Dean was pulling into the motel parking lot.

"I'll go get us a room. Should be quick," he said as he hopped out of the car.

A few minutes later, Dean returned with a room key in hand. He opened the car door and held out his hand for her to take.

"Come on, gorgeous. We've got important things to do," he said with a smile.

"Lead the way."

Dean had to consciously force himself to walk at a reasonable pace to the room. (Y/N)'s legs were a lot shorter than his and if he'd walked as fast as he wanted to, he would've been dragging her along.

As soon as they were in the room, Dean shut and locked the door.

(Y/N) glanced around. "Looks clean enou--"

Dean silenced the rest of her sentence with a well-timed heated kiss. He'd whipped her around and pressed her up against the door, hands gripping her hips as he kissed her passionately.

She gripped the edges of his shirt and tugged upwards, silently asking him to remove it. He pulled back, yanking the shirt off his head, before attaching his lips back to hers.

He slid his hands under her shirt and her body tensed up on instinct. She'd always hated people touching her stomach, but she did her best to push away her discomfort.

Despite her best efforts, Dean could feel her unease. "Baby, look at me," he whispered.

Her eyes met his and she visibly relaxed.

"I've got you, okay? I love you, I love your body, and I wanna touch and see every inch of it...but if you're not ready, I can wait."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his sweet words. Normally, she would have taken him up on his offer, but not now. She wanted this...wanted him...and that meant giving in completely.

She pushed him back ever so slightly, giving her enough space to unbutton her shirt and slip it off. It fell to the ground, leaving her upper half in just a bra.

She was self-conscious for no more than a moment. Dean's hungry eyes traced their way down her torso and back up, desire evident in his gaze.

He pressed his body up against hers again, a soft moan escaping his lips. "So fucking perfect," he whispered.

He slid his hands up her back and deftly unhooked her bra. She let him pull it off and toss it somewhere behind him. He groaned as he palmed each of her breasts in his large hands. He began to kneed them gently, pinching her nipples as she gasped.

Suddenly, his hands left her breasts and traveled to her thighs. "Jump," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

He gripped her thighs tightly. "Jump, baby. I've got you."

She looked at him like he was crazy, but she trusted him completely. She jumped up and Dean caught her with ease, tugging her legs around his waist. She locked her heels behind him and he pressed her back against the door.

Her breasts were now at the perfect height for his mouth to feast on...and feast on them he did. He sucked and nipped, his light stubble scratching against her skin deliciously.

His arms wrapped around her back and he lifted his head to look at her. "Keep those legs tight, okay?"

As soon as she nodded, he pulled away from the door and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, but instead of crawling on top of her, he stood at the end of the bed.

She sat up slightly. "Dean?"

He licked his lips and looked back up at her face. "Hmm?"

She crooked her finger, gesturing him to come to her.

Instead of climbing onto the bed, he leaned down and placed a kiss to her belly, just above her pants. "These should go," he murmured.

He made quick work of removing her jeans, his calloused hands gliding back up her legs to the hem of her underwear.

"I don't think you need these either." He tugged them off and threw them onto the ground.

She laid before him, completely bare, and she didn't feel self-conscious at all. She couldn't--not with the way he was looking at her.

His breathing was slightly labored as he stared at her. He palmed his painfully hard cock through his jeans, a strangled moan escaping his lips.

She sat up and licked her lips. "I can help you with that."

His eyes widened, pupils dilated to the point of obscuring his green irises. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded and slid off the end of the bed, dropping to her knees before him. She looked up at him and slowly began to undo his belt.

"Holy fuck..." he murmured. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she undid the button on his jeans and slowly began to pull them down.

He helped her take them off completely before she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs. "These are in my way," she said huskily.

He yanked his underwear off with such speed, if she'd blinked she would have missed it. What she couldn't miss, however, was his surprisingly large member mere inches from her face.

Dean noticed her wide eyes and he grinned. "Like what you see, baby?"

Her lust-filled eyes flicked up to his. "I like every inch of you."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about his body or his cock, but he didn't have time to think about it. She gripped him tightly and slid her mouth onto his cock, eliciting a loud moan from him.

She kept her eyes fixed on his face as she began to move her head and her hands in an expert rhythm. He could barely breathe as he stared down at her...pretty mouth stuffed full of his cock and her big (y/e/c) eyes looking up at him.

He slid his fingers into her hair, pulling it back from her face so he could see it better. The blunt tips of his nails raked against her scalp as he tightened his grip, a moan of ecstasy escaping his lips.

"Fuck, baby...feels so good."

She moaned around his cock, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure through him. His hips jilted forward slightly, causing her to gag a little. He instantly pulled back, not wanting to hurt her.

In response, she grabbed onto his upper thighs with both hands and tugged his hips forward, relaxing her throat as she did to take him even farther into her.

Her watery eyes met his in a silent plea. Dean was pretty sure he knew what she wanted, so he tentatively pulled back and thrust his hips forward gently.

Her eyes seemed to light up and she moaned loudly, giving him the confirmation he needed. He gripped her head with both of his hands and he began to fuck her pretty face.

(Y/N) tightened her grip on his thighs and desperately tried to keep her eyes open and on his face. She wanted to see him come undone more than anything. At this moment, she was just along for the ride.

Dean's grip on her hair tightened to an almost painful level, but she didn't complain. The moans and whispered pleas coming from his mouth were reward enough.

"Baby, I'm so close..." he groaned.

She released a deep moan and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. The moment his gaze found hers, he came with a moan of her name. (Y/N) didn't let go of his cock until she'd swallowed every last drop of his spend before finally releasing him.

He nearly collapsed on the bed, but through the fog in his brain, he remembered (Y/N) would have needs of her own.

"Come here, baby," he said softly as he reached for her. "Lie on the bed."

She stood up with his help and laid down on the bed, feet hanging over the edge. When Dean didn't move to join her, she began to shift uncomfortably.

"You're too far away," he insisted.

She immediately started to move closer to him, but he shook his head, grabbed her hips, and tugged her to the edge of the bed where he wanted her.

She gasped in surprise. "Dean!"

He grinned as he dropped to his knees. "What? I wanna taste you."

She looked a little shy. "You don't have to."

He looked at her in confusion. "I know I don't have to...I want to."

"Oh..."

"Baby, if you taste half as delicious as you look, then I'm going to be the happiest man in the world."

"Oh," she whispered in a slightly more surprised tone.

Dean grabbed her legs and threw one over each shoulder before diving into her pussy like a starving man at a feast.

"Oh!" What started out as a pleasantly surprised sound quickly turned to moans of enjoyment.

She'd known he would be good...after all, he had a lot of practice, but she hadn't expected to feel like this. Dean's mouth had been on her pussy for less than 30 seconds and she was already a gasping mess.

Her hand fisted his hair, tugging on it slightly, legs desperately searching for something to hold onto.

Dean was an incredibly fast learner. He paid attention to what made her moan, what made her grip his hair harder, what made her squirm...he was determined to be the absolute best she'd ever had.

"Dean," she gasped. "You--it--shit...feels so good."

He grinned against her pussy before wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking intently. His tongue began to swirl around her clit, spelling out her name in fast-moving cursive.

"Oh god!"

Her legs began to tighten around his head and he had a vague thought about wanting to be smothered by her thighs...but the thought was pushed aside when she cried out, cumming all over his mouth and chin.

He hungrily lapped up as much as he could before she yanked on his hair and desperately tried to squirm away. "Sensitive, Dean!"

He finally allowed her to pull his head up and he stared at her pretty face as he licked his lips. "Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he murmured.

"Huh?" she asked, clearly still dazed from her orgasm.

He smiled as he crawled on top of her, placing a kiss to her lips. "You taste like heaven," he whispered.

She blushed, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for another kiss.

He'd found himself growing hard again while he was eating her out, and as he deepened the kiss, his cock brushed against her pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

He smiled against her lips. "(Y/N)?"

"Hmm?"

"If I told you I wanted to do something really really badly, would you be willing to do it for me?"

She cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. "That would depend on what it is."

"Fair enough."

Suddenly, he flipped onto his back, taking her with him. She gasped as she found herself looking down at him from above. "You could have just asked," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh that?" He smirked darkly. "That's not what I want..."

Her breathing began to pick up pace again. "Then what do you want?"

He grinned wolfishly. "I wanna taste that sweet pussy again."

Her eyes widened. No one had ever eaten her out twice during sex. "But you just did..."

He nodded. His eyes softened as he looked at her, his fingers gently rubbing circles into her thighs. "Please baby? I would do anything."

She bit her lip. She couldn't deny, the idea of him wanting to eat her out again was an incredible turn-on...but she was still sensitive from a few minutes prior.

"Please," he begged again, green eyes widening.

She sighed, realizing there was no way she could say no to him when he was looking at her like that. "Alright."

He grinned. "That's my good girl. Now come up here."

Her pussy clenched around nothing at the praise, but then confusion settled on her face. "Come up...where?"

"Here," he said, patting his mouth. "I want you to sit on my face."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What? No! Absolutely not. No way." She tried to scramble off of him, but his strong arms held her in place.

"Why not?" he pouted.

"Umm because I could seriously hurt you! Or I don't know, smother you to death!"

He laughed lightly. "I would die a very happy man."

"I'm serious, Dean! I'm not light!"

The smile disappeared from his face as he took in the shock and disbelief on hers. He sat up and ran his hand along her cheek. "Hey, baby, look at me."

Her eyes slowly shifted to meet his.

"(Y/N), I want this. Badly. Now, I would never force you to do something you didn't want to do, but I don't want you to say no out of some misguided desire to protect me. I'm more than capable of picking you up and tossing you around, so I promise you're not going to smother me or hurt me. I wanna feel those sexy thighs of yours wrapped around my head as I devour that sweet pussy."

His eyes darkened as he spoke and it lit something inside of her. She was scared of hurting him, but she could see how much he wanted this. "I'll--I'll try," she whispered.

He smiled. "That's my girl." He laid back down on the bed. "Now come here and have a seat, gorgeous."

She blushed, but did as he told her--mostly.

"Babe, I said sit."

"I am sitting," she protested.

"No, you're not." He grabbed her hips and tugged her down so she was directly against his lips. "Fuck yes," he mumbled into her before getting to work.

(Y/N) gasped loudly. This new position changed the angle of his tongue inside of her and his nose bumped against her clit every time he moved.

Within seconds, she was a moaning mess above him, hands grasping onto the headboard for stability. Her hips started to move of their own volition and Dean gripped her hips to help facilitate the movement.

She didn't know she could feel this incredible...her body was shaking with a pleasure she'd never felt before--every nerve ending alive with need.

"Dean, I can't--I need--please."

He tightened his hold on her hips and focused his tongue on her clit as she rode his face. Seconds later, she yelled his name as she orgasmed, drenching his face in her slick.

God help him, but he didn't want to stop. He'd never been happier. The sounds she made, her taste, the need to pleasure her...all of it made him want to never stop.

Unfortunately for him, (Y/N) managed to scramble away with cries of sensitivity. She collapsed on the bed beside him, trying to catch her breath. Her legs shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm as she came down from her high.

Dean wiped his mouth and turned to look at her, a wide grin gracing his handsome face. "Thoughts?"

"You can...do that...again...anytime you want," she said between breaths.

He chuckled. "Oh, baby, don't tempt me." He rolled on top of her and gave her a soft kiss to her lips. He slowly kissed along her jaw and down to her neck, sucking on her pulse point.

She had no idea how he knew that would drive her crazy, but she was glad he did. Despite her exhaustion, she wanted him...wanted to feel him so badly she could hardly breathe. "Dean..." she whispered.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I want you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Where?"

She fidgeted a little before murmuring, "Inside me."

He pressed his index finger against her lips. "Here?"

She shook her head.

"Then where, baby?"

She took his hand and guided it between her legs, placing it against her dripping pussy. "Here."

His eyes seem to sparkle as he looked down at her. He wanted to hear her demand what she wanted, but this was close enough for now.

"Anything for you, baby."

He sat up and gripped his cock, giving it a few strokes before lining himself up with her core. His eyes flicked up to hers and he asked softly, "You ready?"

She nodded.

"Words, baby."

"I'm ready, Dean, please."

He pushed into her slowly, eliciting a sharp moan from her lips. The stretch was deliciously painful, but she was desperate for him to keep going. She whined softly when he stopped to let her adjust, so he continued to push until he was fully seated inside of her.

He dropped his head down to her forehead, breathing heavily. He'd never been gripped this tightly in his life and it felt amazing.

(Y/N) had similar thoughts. He fit her perfectly...a feeling she'd never before experienced. Like the last two pieces of a puzzle locking into place.

Dean shifted his hips, starting a slow pace to keep from hurting her. Much to his surprise, she couldn't care less about the pain, she wanted more.

"Dean, faster," she whimpered.

He couldn't tell her no even if he'd wanted to, and he certainly didn't want to. He began to thrust into her with more force and speed, earning moans of pleasure from her lips.

"You feel so good, baby. Never felt this good before," he whispered softly.

The room filled with the sounds of their shared moans, the salacious slapping of skin, and the whispered words meant only for each other.

Dean was about as far from a virgin as a person could be, and (Y/N) wasn't new to this either, but he had never ever had a sexual experience even remotely close to what he was feeling with her.

Most of his experience came from one-night-stands, which meant there hadn't been feelings of any kind involved, but with (Y/N)? He could hardly breathe, it felt so right. Three words crept into his mind, but he pushed them away quickly. He didn't want to ruin this.

He focused back on the beautiful woman beneath him and his heart nearly exploded at the sight. He'd never seen anything so incredible, so beautiful, so perfect. He was dying to watch her come apart for him--he just knew it would be a sight to behold.

"Do you think you can give me another one, baby?"

Her eyes widened. "I don't know, Dean...I've never cum more than once before and I've already done it twice."

He smiled. He liked knowing he'd done something no one else ever had. "Come on, pretty girl. I know you can do it for me," he murmured.

Before she could say another word, he shifted her hips to give him better access. The new angle left her speechless as his cock slammed into that delicious soft spot deep inside of her--a spot she hadn't been certain existed until this moment.

She dug her nails into his back, clinging to him for dear life. It felt so good she could hardly think. Her brain was filled with nothing but the pleasure she was feeling.

Dean knew she was getting close and he was desperately holding back his own impending orgasm. He would be damned if he came before her. "I need you to cum for me baby. Can you do that?"

She nodded and held onto him even tighter.

Dean's motions never slowed, his aim never faltered. He was determined to push her over the edge. He wanted it more than anything.

Her legs began to shake and strangled cries left her throat as she neared orgasm. With one final thrust, (Y/N) shattered--a broken scream of his name leaving her lips.

Dean continued to thrust, chasing his own high as he helped her ride out hers. "Where do you want it?" he whispered.

In her haze, it took her a moment to figure out what he was asking her. "Inside of me," she begged. "Wanna feel you fill me up."

"Fuck," he groaned as he moved impossibly faster. Moments later, he came harder than he could ever remember, emptying inside of her for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, his hips slowed to a stop and he nearly collapsed on top of her, completely spent and out of breath.

After a few moments, Dean pulled out and rolled over to collapse beside her on the bed. "That was...fucking amazing."

She laughed lightly. "I would have to agree."

He turned to look at her. "Best sex of my life."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, riiiiight..." She chalked up his statement to a post-nut haze.

"I'm serious, babe. There's something different about having sex with someone you love."

(Y/N)'s entire body froze, but her mind beginning to race. He'd said earlier that he'd loved her, but she honestly hadn't believed it. Hearing him say it now reminded her that she hadn't responded to him the first time.

Dean noticed the tension immediately and suddenly realized what he'd said. He started to panic...Shit, shit shit. "(Y/N/N), I--"

She waved him off. "Dean, you don't have to explain--" she started.

He pulled away from her so he could see her face better. "That wasn't some post-orgasm utterance. I meant it--I mean it."

She laid there, desperately trying to wrap her brain around what he was saying. "What?" she said again, softer this time.

He rolled onto his side so he could see her better. He reached out and gently caressed her face, eyes watching her reaction with trepidation. "I'm in love with you, (Y/N). I've known it for a while, but it didn't seem like something you would want to hear. I said it earlier in that motel room, but we didn't really have a chance to talk about it--and I don't want you to think for even one second that I didn't mean it. I love you with everything I have, baby. I would burn this whole world to the ground for you."

Hearing Dean Winchester say those words was enough to shock her into silence, but hearing them directed at her? It was a feeling she couldn't even begin to describe. "I don't know what to say," she whispered.

Pain flashed across his face, but he hid it before she could really notice. "You don't have to say anything."

"Of course I do," she insisted. "I never expected to hear you say anything like that to anyone, let alone me. I'm struggling to find the words to say...I guess I'm just unprepared. I never thought Dean Winchester would be the one making me speechless with his beautiful words, but here we are. All I can think to say is, I love you too."

A warm smile graced his features. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect response." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "I love you," he said again.

She smiled back. "I love you too."

Dean pulled her against his chest and held on tightly. He didn't want to let her go for fear of losing her. He knew their lives were risky--he knew either one of them could die at any time--and he didn't want to waste a single moment. He'd already wasted so much time pretending not to love her. He would never make that mistake again.

Apparently (Y/N) was having similar thoughts because she whispered, "I never thought I'd be thankful for a Siren."

Dean chuckled lightly and kissed the top of her head. "Me neither, baby. Me neither."

[mossygirl333]

Could I please get a marbel cake, incufsed chocolate cake and a blueberry cheesecake with a martini, a screwdriver,a cappuccino and daiquiri for John Price.

(I'm sorry if I ordered too much if you want you can take some stuff off the list I don't mind and if you do could you please keep the mafia au)

(Also another thing, in the mafia au it could be like reader has a deadbeat husband and he has not payed back John and bc of that John takes us as his form of payment instead of cash. Yk it's just a thought no need to put it in the story🤭)

AN: OMGGG THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEAAA!! don't worry, ur order is amazing (also dividers by @/saradika-graphics!)

mafia boss!Price x f!reader

Bakery Order: Marble cake- “Pose for the camera.” + Infused Chocolate Cake- "C'mon, take a few more hits. Getting high huh?" + Blueberry Cheesecake- “this night ends with you pregnant.” + Screwdriver - spanking + Cappuccino - overstimulation + Martini - Mafia AU

Tw/Cw: DUBCON, mentions of abuse, mentions of neglect, mentions of finance issues, cuckoldry (they make him watch the security footage of price fucking you 🫶), kidnapping, drugs (weed), breeding kink, spanking, edging, mafia au

Wine filling a glass and your raged breathing was the only noises in the kitchen. Shaky thin fingers bringing the cup to your lips, cheeks raw and flushed from crying.

Your warm breath hit the glass, fogging it up as the alcohol slipped into your mouth, running down your throat smoothly. But it wasn't enough. You just needed to forget him, forget the bruises that still ached against your skin. Bloomed and throbbing.

Why did he do it? Dinner wasn't ready. As stupidly cliche as it sounded (it made you laugh). You had a headache, took a nap and lost track of time. His heavy hands hurt, but not as much as his words. The sound of the door slamming behind him when he left still rang in your head.

A sob escaped your mouth, tears threatening to spill over against. You suddenly shut up when you heard the door open and close with forced gentleness. Tenseness pulled at your muscles, wiping your face and turning. "Babe-"

It was not your husband Gage who stood in the doorway.

A tall man stood, in a simple suit. His beard trimmed neatly, so was his hair. A few grays mixed in with the brunette. There was nothing extraordinary about his looks but his aura. He demanded power with how he held himself, demanding respect. Nearly made you do some military salut.

Another man was behind him, just an inch or two taller. His mohawk was messy, giving him the allusion of more height. He didn't wear a suit coat like the first man, but his appearance was still tidy.

"...Who...who are you?" You weakly whisper, fingers itching to grab a knife. Well you would've, If you didn't notice the guns on their hips.

"Where the hell is Gage?" The first bearded man asks, his British accent thick and rough.

"Out...of the house." You tremble. Were these fucking loan sharks? God what were they gonna do with you?

"Didn' know that fat shite had a Bonnie lass at home..." The second man murmurs, raising a brow at you. Eyes roving over your form. A shiver running up your spine with discomfort.

"Soap." The first man warns, his thin eyes sliding to "Soap" with a glare. His hands politely folded in front of his body. "Mrs, I'm John Price. This is Johnny Mactavish. We're here for your husband. He has..." He trails off, thinking for the right words. "debts. He has yet to pay back." He shoots a smile.

"I don't...I don't have money." You swallow thickly, panic gripping at your spine. Curling around your entire body, heavy and pressurized. Your heart slamming against your ribcage, trying to escape your chest.

"Pity." Soap mumbles, taking a few steps forward. "I guess we'll have to take what we see. Till he gets-" He pauses, eyes trailing over the bruise on your collarbone. Your hands scrambling to grab the fabric of your shirt to cover it up.

He shoots Price a look and Price approaches you, his knuckles dragging across your cheek, watching you tremble like a little Doe. He cups your cheek, pulling you from the counter. Leaving your wine glass unattended.

"We can't let him come back to you. You'll have to understand." He smiles, hiding the rage inside from your apparent abuse.

You weakly nod, feeling his hand drop to the small of your back. Guiding you along out of the house. Tensed up, jaw grinding up as you step into his car.

"We wont hurt you. And he wont hurt you anymore dove."

You sat quietly in his room, trembling with a glass of water. Price sat beside you, the first two buttons on his shirt were undone. He seemed so relaxed for a man who just kidnapped you.

You had been taken to one of those drawing rooms. The lights are almost orange and yellow in hue, causing long shadows to be casted across the tile floor. A bar was set in the back, where an unattended glass of whiskey sat. Bottles of alcohol that probably costed more than your shitty car payment sat on the glass liquor case.

You felt...almost poor in a room like this. Underdressed for sure, in an oversized shirt and your sleep shorts. It felt like the kinda room you dress up for, not like you owned any dressed, you pawned them off to pay your lovers debts off.

Lover. The word left a sick taste in your mouth. You drowned it out with a mouthful of ice water.

The bulge of his gun was something you couldn't stop looking at. In just a simple movement, he could end your life. And that thought was stuck in your head, making you be eerily still. Like a bunny that just sensed someone approaching.

He gets a text, looking down at his phone and soon turning to you. "Why were you with him?" His voice was gruff from years of smoking but that didn't mean his words weren't tender. Gentle. "A pretty little bird like you? With him? Why?"

You tense a little, fidgeting with your hands. "I guess I just-" Pause. "-thought it was the best I was gonna get." The words left your mouth in an ashamed tone. You felt like you should be honest with him, as stupid as that feeling was. It was best just to be honest than get punished for lying.

He snorts, a cynical bitter laugh leaving his lips. "You are a very sad story huh? You deserve, uh..." He trails off, eyes roaming over your form before meeting your eyes again. "A lot more confidence that's for sure." He leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. "You're tense. Ya gotta loosen up birdie."

You lean away from him for a second before settling down, still curled up in one of the plush seats. He stood up, walking over to the other side of the bar and pulling out something you couldn't see.

"Have you ever smoked babydoll?" Babydoll. It felt weird coming from a man, Gage definitely never called you that before. A warmth bloomed up in your chest, why didn't you ever notice how big his biceps were before? His hairy chest peaking out from the white clean fabric of his shirt. Those soft eyes that stared into your soul, you almost audibly moaned. "Babydoll?"

You snapped out of it. "Depends on what you mean by smoking." You quickly mumble. Rubbing your shoulder.

"Weed." He flashes a freshly rolled blunt.

"In college yeah." You shift. You were going to be high, in front of him? Completely at his mercy. For some reason, that didn't feel so bad.

He lights the blunt, sliding up on the cool leather couch. Patting his thigh. "Sit. Here." You freeze for a moment. And he raises a brow, smirking. "Did I stutter? Sit in my lap."

You shyly move closer, finding a comfortable spot on his massive muscular leg, He suddenly pulls you in, your cheek smooshed up against his pec as he places the blunt in your mouth. Watching your pretty lips wrap around it. "Take a hit.."

You breathe in, letting the smoke curl and sit heavy in your lungs before letting it out. You take a few more hits, the woozy light-headed feeling starts to show up. Mind blurry as you mindlessly breathe in the smoke.

He smiles down at you, watching as your eyes widen at the feeling of him kneading your ass. "I didn't tell you to stop smokin' birdie..." You quickly go back to puffing as he situated you, throwing you around like some toy. he makes you straddle him, blunt still in your mouth as you slowly grow more and more hazy.

"Feelin high huh baby?" "mhm..."

He shifts your hips across the bulge in his pants, and it isn't his gun. You press your forehead against his, breathing the smoke against his lips. Pussy growing slick at the feeling of him groping at you.

"Getting wet huh? Dirty girl..." "cant help it.." You whine, shoving your nose into his neck and breathing in the cool night air and heady whiskey like cologne that clung to his skin. Masculine was the only way to describe his beautiful sculpted body.

He shifted against the tight ropes of his restraints, Simon's breath hitting his neck as he positioned the laptop. A simple sleek thing, laid to rest on a table. Suddenly it opened and shined, blinding him slightly.

They were in a dim room, he could barely see anything other than the screen. It was uncomfortably warm, the hum of electricity buzzing in the walls. Simon settled, standing behind him as he watched whatever was playing with a perverted glee (that was hidden behind a skull mask). A security cam footage of some drawing room. His wife inside with that bastard he owned money too, his hands groping all over her plump skin.

He growls. "Why are you doing this to me? I was going to pay you back! I just needed-"

A heavy hand smacks against his head, causing him to reel back. He winces, feeling warm blood gush down his nose. "Shut it." A deep voice practically snarls in his ear. "Watch your little birdie get fucked by a real men you pathetic cuck."

His chin is forced forward, eyes locked onto the screen as John lays you down on the couch. His lips pressed into yours with feral desperation, sweet high-pitched sighs and moans leaving your mouth, swallowed up by Johns desperation.

It was all teeth and rough hands, spit slid across your lips as he tugs off your t-shirt, groping at your tits.

"Gonna get ya pregnant baby...and you'll forget about him."

Gage can't say a word.

He deserved it anyway.

Johns hand groped at your stomach, whispering praises as he kisses your bruises. Kissing away those harsh hands and wounds that your ex lover gave you. You were too sweet and pretty for him anyway, but Johns got you. And he ain't letting go.

"C'mon, move it.." He mumbles, letting you roll over to your stomach. "Ass up. Atta girl." He presses his hands into the fat before smacking.

You jolt forward, choking back a moan. "j- John."

"Thats right. Say my name baby, say it like a damn prayer." Your panties slide down to your knees, slick already sliding down those creamy thighs John loved so much.

"john." You moan again, wriggling your ass and arching your back. You may have been putting on a show, but not the kind of show where you fake cum. No you wanted to do this, wanted to tease him. "Want you in me..." You mumble, turning your head so you could look up at him with hazy red eyes.

A belt hits the floor, followed by another (more harsher) spank. "I know you do. Pussy fucking wet for me, all I did was rub your ass. Filthy woman, aren't you?"

You whine as you feel his leaking cockhead nudge up against your clit, rubbing precum across it. It knocks against your entrance, before finally sliding in. A full burning feeling bubbled up, whines leaving your lips as more and more of his thick cock speared into you.

"Gonna breed you." Thrust.

"Gonna put a damn ring on that finger the second we get a positive." Thrust.

"So fucking high, look at me. Look at me. Look at the mess youre making on my cock." Thrust.

They were slow, but deep, practically knocking the air from your lungs and making your belly tighten and burn. Tears filling your eyes as you mewled, arching your back and holding onto the couch like a lifeline. Desperately grinding your ass back when his thumb circles your clit. "I'll be your wife, please just let me cum!-"

He laughs, eyes suddenly meeting the camera he set up for this occasion. Oh how he'd love to look at Gages face, see the anger and pathetic distraught. He found your g-spot, making you cry out and try to claw away. "oh no not yet honey...I ain't finished." He growls, digging his fingers into your plushy hips and pulling you back.

You cried, feeling the snap coming on fast. You couldn't make any noises other than breathless moans. The air leaving you as you approach the finish line.

Everything stilled, and then it crashed down. Hot spurts of cum mixed with your slick, buried deep into your womb. His hips slid from yours, his sweaty chest resting up against your chest.

Maybe he was glad Gage didn't pay his loans. He got somethin' much better than money.

A pretty birdie, and a couple babes.

[lortsyall]

Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 1.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending....Pending....

Date: December 21st,2174.

Location: Office,Unit 4,Avatar Department,Human Outpost Biolab,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 10:15 AM.

A long time has passed since I've known about this once alien planet. 4.4 light years away,a world full of life,like a lost paradise,sat idly in silence,away from the death and destruction that has scattered over Earth like a goddamn plague.

The ones before us saw the danger of it all,and yet they turned a blind eye,all because the climate change and the fractures in the atmosphere caused by the heightened levels of carbon dioxide wouldn’t affect them in the long run. They’d be dead anyway by the time it got too serious. So much for doing the right thing.

I wasn’t even born when they discovered Pandora,though until I actually got a grasp of reality and gained consciousness like everybody does at 5 years old,I’ve actually wondered if the so-called “Goldilocks Zone” existed somewhere else. If God smiled upon the universe and gave another planet the privilege of life.

Trust me,I have no idea how I even got here. So much time has passed since I’ve breathed in the polluted air of Earth,but I guess it’s for the benefit of all.

Guess we'll do it like they always do,huh?Start from the beginning of it all.

Pending...Pending...

Date: January 26th,2170

Location: Home,New York,USA, Earth.

Time: 12:43 PM.

Nobody ever thought that a girl like me would end up as the head leader of the Avatar Department,or an important person in the Resistance. And I gotta say,I never quite imagined myself becoming this. I dreamt of stages full of fans,as my fingers gave birth to heart-shattering riffs. Of poetry books released under my very own name,painting the pages with complicated feelings and sensations,all of a broken and imperfect human heart. Of having my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,making my country proud as a well known actress overseas. Though all those dreams were scattered away,like a feather in the wind,the moment I decided to do what any other scared yet artistically talented person who wants to make her parents proud does.

I got into STEM. Mechanical and Biological Engineering.

And between the sleepless nights of studying,drowning myself in math equations and lab reports,I got a one-way ticket to Pandora in my first year of college,from the one and only Parker Selfridge. Head administrator of the RDA’s operation in Pandora. I can still feel the anxiety lingering on my tongue. They never came with internships for first years,so what was he here for?

He came in to give out 5 internships at my college,yet he left with a new potential piece for this chess game. Me. All thanks to a question he asked that I knew the answer of. And to think I almost didn't say the answer because I thought everyone knew it,but as it turns out,only I did. I sat in the hallway with my friends,staring dumbfoundedly at the bussiness card he gave me.

Only back then,the RDA were treated as heroes,important people who made way for a better life. For an undead Earth. The propaganda was all enough to trick a little mind like mine,though it’s funny how I always thought I was a step ahead of everyone. Life on Earth as I remember it was,to say the least…grey.

The cities were gray. The people were gray. The sky was…well,grey. And between spending the rest of my life here,with my dreams crumbling before my very own eyes,and going out there to actually fight for a new home for humanity,you can guess why I chose the latter.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening for me here anyway. Gorgeous girl,great personality,they all said,but nobody ever settled. Nobody ever stopped in their tracks to take in the pure and total beauty of the chaos that is me,so I never had a serious partner before. And…I guess I was also excited to see if the stories are true.

How an actual human betrayed his own race for a…Na’vi tribe princess?At least that’s how they put it,and I don’t even want to mention how embarrassing it was for the RDA to come back to Earth with their tails between their legs back in 2154. No unobtanium. No money. No Avatars. No nothing. I was three when that happened,and I remember playing with my cousins with our cardboard toys as our parents watched the TV in confusion and…disappointment,so you can guess why they made Jake Sully seem like an actual demon,and the death of a colonel was a pretty big deal,after all.

Thing is,the RDA only shows you the pearl in their hands,and not the mouth getting ready to swallow you whole. And now I know why they were so understaffed. That total failure after 2154 made people lose trust in the RDA over the years. But to me?

The decision came easily. I needed something new.

What didn’t,though,was the pure work I’d have to do in just 6 months. Learning the language of the natives,the Na’vi. Getting to understand the differences between our anatomy and theirs. The fauna and flora. The tribes. The ecosystems. And…of course,Eywa herself,though I learned that from Dr. Grace Augustine’s botany books,not from the RDA’s training program. I honestly don’t know what Selfridge saw in me,when I know I have friends better in college than me,but I better not question it too much.

I tried telling myself that as soon as I got in cryo,it wouldn’t be a goodbye,rather a…see you later. Looking back at it now,I think it was just wishful thinking. For now,I was me,the girl nobody ever really took seriously. Just another face in a sea of others. Next time I wake up,I’d have to work in an entire department with people twice my age.

Pending...Pending...

Date: July 31st,2174

Location: Pandora????

Time: ?????

The cryo-sleep thaw was a nightmare and a miracle all at once. My lungs burned as they dragged in air for the first time in four years, my throat raw and dry, every breath tasting metallic. My joints ached as if I’d aged a century.

“Subject revived.” the sterile voice of the AI announced, flat and emotionless. I tried sitting up, only to slump back down against the cryo pod’s restraints. My body wasn’t mine yet—not entirely.

“You’ll feel like shit for a while,” said a woman in a crisp lab coat, her voice muffled as she checked my vitals. “Side effects of long-term cryo. It’ll pass. Welcome to the ISV Valkyrie, and congrats on making it to Pandora.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Pandora.

The next few hours were a blur of debriefings and medical checkups. My body eventually began to cooperate, but my mind lagged behind. I shuffled through endless corridors with other groggy personnel, each of us too stunned to speak. We were like ghosts wandering through a ship that pulsed with life��technicians barking orders, holograms buzzing with real-time scans of the moon’s surface, the low hum of engines preparing for atmospheric descent.

When the ship finally broke through Pandora’s atmosphere, I felt it in my chest. The vibrations reverberated through every bolt, every panel, and through me. The world outside the viewport was alive. The dense, green forests sprawled endlessly beneath the floating Hallelujah Mountains, their bases wreathed in ethereal clouds. The sky shifted from pink to blue in the blink of an eye, its colors alien yet breathtakingly familiar.

For a moment, the hum of engines and the chatter of voices faded away. It was just me and the sight of this strange, beautiful moon—a place that could have been paradise if we weren’t here to ruin it.

The ship landed with a jarring shudder, and the real work began.

Adjusting to life on Pandora was like learning to breathe all over again. Everything about this place demanded respect—the gravity was lighter, the air richer, and the biology... unfathomable. Days blurred into weeks as I threw myself into the work at the Avatar Department.

My mornings began with syncing sessions in the link pods, my mind slipping into my Avatar body like stepping into a cold pool. It wasn’t seamless—at first, every movement felt foreign. I stumbled through training exercises, my longer legs and stronger muscles betraying me at every turn. But slowly, the body became mine.

Afternoons were spent reading over files on Na’vi biology, studying their neural networks and learning their language. The words felt clumsy on my tongue, but I persisted. When I wasn’t in the lab or out on field assignments to observe Pandora’s ecosystems, I was immersed in RDA briefings.

That’s where I first heard his name again.

Jake Sully.

The briefings spoke of him like a ghost, a legend who had long since passed into myth. But here, his name was a warning.

“Resistance forces led by Sully attacked the rail line near Sector 7 again,” one of the military officers growled during lunch at the canteen. “Three shipments of amp suits lost. That bastard and his little insurgents are crippling our operations.”

The room buzzed with tension as reports of attacks piled up. Sabotaged trains, stolen supplies, and destroyed equipment—it was chaos. To the RDA, Sully wasn’t just a traitor. He was the personification of everything standing in the way of their plans.

But the more I learned, the more conflicted I felt. The propaganda painted him as a terrorist, a man who had betrayed his own kind for a primitive cause. But every whisper I caught from the scientists who had been here longer told a different story.

“Maybe Sully isn’t the villain they make him out to be,” I muttered to Dr. Ellison one evening as we worked late in the lab.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable as he pointed towards a CCTV with his head,as if to say "Shut up. They're listening."

"That’s dangerous talk,you know. Keep your head down. Do your work. They don't like questions.”

I nodded, but the seed of doubt had already taken root.

The attacks continued, each one more brazen than the last. The RDA ramped up their operations in response, sending more troops and machinery into the wilds of Pandora. But for every move they made, the Resistance seemed to be one step ahead.

And then there was the tension between the people I worked with. Some were diehard loyalists, determined to see the mission succeed no matter the cost. Others—mostly the scientists—spoke in hushed tones about the beauty of the Na’vi culture, the interconnectedness of the flora and fauna, and the destruction we were bringing to this world.

I kept my head down, just as Ellison had warned. But at night, as I lay in my bunk staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but wonder: which side of history would I be on?

Pandora had a way of getting under your skin. The longer I stayed, the more I realized it wasn’t just a place. It was a mirror, reflecting humanity’s best and worst instincts back at us. And somewhere in the middle of it all was me—a girl who had come here for a fresh start, only to find herself caught in a war she didn’t fully understand.

The attacks became more than background noise; they became a constant undercurrent to life on Pandora. At first, they were just distant explosions, reports in the briefing room, or muttered curses from the military personnel in the mess hall. But over time, the Resistance started to feel like a presence, a shadow that loomed over everything the RDA tried to accomplish.

Jake Sully wasn’t just a name anymore—he was a force of nature.

The first time I felt the Resistance's impact directly was during a supply run. It was supposed to be routine—a quick trip to outpost Beta-5 to deliver Avatar-linked monitoring equipment. I was tagging along as part of my training, mostly to observe.

But the Resistance didn’t care about schedules or safety zones.

The attack was fast and chaotic. One moment, the AMP suits ahead of us were trudging through the dense forest, their movements mechanical and predictable. The next, arrows rained down from the trees, followed by explosions that sent the towering machines toppling like broken toys.

The ambush hit like a storm—sudden, violent, and unstoppable.

One moment, I was riding in the back of the supply truck, surrounded by crates of equipment and two guards sharing a nervous laugh. The next, the forest erupted in chaos.

The first explosion flipped the lead AMP suit, its towering frame crashing to the ground with a deafening roar. The convoy came to an abrupt halt as arrows rained down from the trees, their sharp points glinting like falling stars.

“Get down!” someone yelled.

I hit the truck bed hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My mask rattled against the metal floor as I scrambled for cover behind a crate. The world around me dissolved into a cacophony of gunfire, shouting, and the eerie war cries of the Na’vi.

The guards fired blindly into the trees, their exo-packs hissing as they struggled to maintain their aim under the pressure. I peeked over the edge of the crate just in time to see one of the AMP suits stagger, an arrow embedded in its cockpit.

Panic set in. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. I wasn’t a soldier. I wasn’t trained for this. My human body was fragile here—one wrong move, and I’d be dead.

I clutched the sidearm they’d insisted I carry, though my hands were shaking too much to use it. What was I even doing here? This wasn’t supposed to be my fight.

A shadow passed overhead. My breath hitched as I looked up to see a Na’vi warrior leaping from a tree, his bow drawn, his movements impossibly fluid. He landed on the roof of the truck with barely a sound, his golden eyes scanning the scene below.

And then, those eyes locked onto mine.

For a moment, the chaos of the ambush melted away, leaving only silence between us.

He stood above me, perched on the edge of the truck’s roof, silhouetted against the glowing forest. His figure was tall and commanding, every line of his body taut with a warrior’s grace. The flickering bioluminescence of the nearby trees played off his skin, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his lean, muscular frame.

His face was angular and strong, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline unmistakably Na’vi, yet there was something softer in his expression. His golden eyes, large and luminous, fixed on me with an intensity that felt like a physical force. They weren’t filled with rage or cruelty but something far more unnerving—calculated curiosity, as though he were trying to read my soul in that single moment.

The streaks of blue war paint decorating his face didn’t fully mask the smooth, rich azure of his skin, which gleamed faintly under the pale light of Pandora’s twin moons. His braids, adorned with small beads and feathers, swayed gently with each subtle movement, a testament to the culture he carried with him like armor.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that struck me—it was his presence.

He radiated confidence, a quiet power that demanded attention without arrogance. It was the kind of aura that made the world around him seem smaller, less significant. The chaos raging around us felt like a distant hum compared to the weight of his gaze.

And yet, beneath that commanding presence, there was something deeper—an unmistakable grief, perhaps, or a burden that someone so young should never have to carry. It was in the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth, and the way his hands gripped the bow with both precision and purpose.

“Drop it,” he said, his voice deep and steady, but with a softness that caught me off guard.

The words hit me like a command, though they weren’t barked or shouted. It was the tone of someone who expected to be obeyed—not out of fear, but respect.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. The sidearm in my trembling hands felt heavier than it should, as if the very act of holding it was a betrayal. His gaze flicked to the weapon, then back to me, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t looking at me like an enemy. He was looking at me like a question.

“You are… different,” he said, tilting his head slightly, the movement as fluid and deliberate as everything else about him. His accent curled around the words, each syllable infused with the lyrical cadence of his native tongue.

I wanted to speak, to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt dry, my voice lost in the weight of the moment.

He crouched slightly, lowering himself onto one knee so we were nearly at eye level. Even then, his presence dwarfed mine. Up close, the details became sharper—the faint patterns of his skin, the slight twitch of his ears as they picked up the sounds of the battle behind him, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“You do not fight,” he observed, the faintest hint of curiosity threading through his words. His eyes lingered on mine, their golden glow unwavering. “And you… fear.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement of fact, delivered with neither judgment nor malice.

His hand shifted slightly, and I flinched, but he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he pointed at the weapon still lying on the ground between us.

The Na’vi reacted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet with startling gentleness.

“You do not belong here,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Run.”

“What—”

“Go!”

He released me and darted back into the fray, moving with the grace of a predator and the determination of someone who had everything to lose.

I didn’t run. Not immediately. Instead, I crouched behind the truck, my legs trembling as I watched the battle unfold.

He moved like the forest itself, blending into the chaos with a skill that seemed almost supernatural. He wasn’t just fighting—he was leading. The other Na’vi warriors followed his signals, their coordinated strikes overwhelming the RDA forces.

For every bullet fired, they had an arrow. For every shout of anger, they answered with a battle cry that sent chills down my spine.

And yet, amidst the violence, there was something strangely... noble about them. They didn’t kill indiscriminately. They targeted the machines, the vehicles, the weapons. It was as if they were trying to make a point rather than simply annihilate us.

When the ambush finally ended, the Resistance had melted back into the forest, leaving behind a convoy in ruins. Smoke rose from the wreckage, and the air was thick with the smell of burning fuel.

I stumbled out from behind the truck, my legs barely holding me up. Around me, the survivors were regrouping, their faces pale and shell-shocked.

“Medic!” someone called, dragging a wounded soldier from the wreckage.

But I couldn’t move. My mind was stuck on him—the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d spared me when he could have easily ended my life.

“You do not belong here,” he’d said.

The words echoed in my head as I stared at the destruction around me. For the first time, I began to wonder if he was right.

[loupy-mongoose]

I wish my art motivation and my "want-to-move-the-story-along" motivation would get along, lol.

There's so much I rather would've drawn for this, but my brain is still in the Hisui rot. So, I'll have to make due.

Speech guide:

Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak in parentheses) ~~Telepathy is in... these things... Whatever they're called. XD~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

The group spread out among the foliage, keeping their eyes keen and calling out Midas' name.

As they searched, Akoya sent her husband a private vent.

~~Rrrrrrrrrgggghhh! ~~ ~~Why'd she have to come with us?!~~ ~~We'll find him fine on our own, then get right back to her. She doesn't need to babysit us! What threat do we pose anyway??~~

Randy struggled to suppress a sigh. ~~I know, Hon. But we really shouldn't do anything to upset her. We're on her turf right now, and she seems to be a high authority on it.~~

~~Huh. Well I'll be happy to be done with this and back home safely in Paldea.~~

~~I know. Believe me, I know. But let's just focus on one thing at a time, okay? Right now we need to make our way to Midas without her figuring out we can feel him.~~

Randy felt a stab of regret from her direction, and glance at her to see her giving him a remorseful look.

~~...I'm sorry.~~

Randy struggled to hide shock from Jamie.

~~For what?~~

~~For being difficult...~~ ~~Thank you for being patient with me, and... all this...~~

Seeing that Jamie was searching facing away from them, he met his wife's eyes and gave her a warm smile.

~~Of course, Akoya!~~ ~~I look forward to having Midas back and getting a chance to really talk in private.~~

Akoya sighed lightly.

~~Me too...~~

Midaaaas!

The pink-and-blue Mew perked up his ears, his tear-stained eyes opening wide.

(Mamah?)

His companion, a fluffy pink and russet Mew, also looked toward the calling voice. A purr was rattling from her in an attempt to calm the poor child she'd come across and curled around reassuringly.

Suddenly the young Mew bolted, startling his companion into silence.

(MAMAH!)

Midas slammed into his mother's chest. His voice came out as a whimper.

(Mamah...)

After a brief shock, Akoya smiled and hugged the little Mew close under her chin, and her eyes welled with tears. Midas... Oh thank Arceus...

Midas' fluffy companion flew up and nuzzled Jamie's head. Before Randy could comment on her, the girl gave her a startled look, but quickly recomposed herself.

(Hey, Jamie! Good to see you!)

It's good to see you too! But... a little surprising. Randy caught the quickest dart of her eyes in their direction. Clearly she was implying something, but what that was, he had no idea.

The stranger Mew smiled at the three newcomers. There was an... odd gleam in her eyes, but she turned back to Jamie, not giving any chance to ponder it.

Randy and Akoya exchanged glances. There was no avoiding it this time. She'd caught them all red-handed.

The man sighed. Yes, we all understand it.

Akoya's face turned serious, although she couldn't hide the shock she'd received. How did you know?

Educated guess. You reacted when Clover mentioned the bag. The red-haired girl met Akoya's eyes, but she appeared neutral, rather than hostile. Randy noticed that that subtle curiosity had returned.

Beside him, he saw his wife shudder. ...I don't like how sharp you are...

Much to Randy's surprise, Jamie gave a regretful smile. Force of habit. She took a snappy breath, as if to recenter herself, and straightened her postured. Shall we move on to the house?

The three Lindens looked at each other and nodded, and they set off again. But before they went far, Jamie turned to look at Akoya once more.

...So, did Midas call you "Mama"?

Feeling a wave of exasperation from Akoya, Randy answered for her, desperate to escape this weird dance of secrets they'd ended up in. We'll explain later. Can we just get somewhere where we can breathe?

The group continued on as the sun began to sink. Jamie's fluffy Mew buddy, Pari, floated leisurely around them, sometimes humming happily, sometimes picking up a chat with Jamie. Sometimes they would pass folks on the road, and Pari would wave cheerfully or let them pet her as she purred.

Randy realized then what Jamie had meant about this being a safe place for Midas to be lost at. Clearly the locals were used to having a Mew around--or two, if Jovie was as friendly and close to the people as Pari. Some Pokemon that roamed close by would come greet Jamie warmly, happy to see her back after her time away. And Randy caught glimpses of a deep, genuine smile on her face as she talked with them

He sighed, wishing things could be straight-forward, and hoped the two parties could soon find a comfortable middle ground.

He felt a gentle hand take his own, and looked over at his wife, unable to resist a soft smile as he met her eyes. Her other arm was tucked into her jacket to support Midas, who had refused to go back into the bag and was now hidden in there. Randy had taken possession of the bag.

He looked to his other side at Lav, who seemed as drained as he was. She'd been very quiet since they arrived, and he longed to pick her brain. But now wasn't the time. He felt a pang of guilt that she'd been so sidelined by all this.

He placed his hand on her far shoulder, looking for a cue that a hug would be okay. She turned up to him with tired eyes, giving a half-hearted smile and leaning into him. He tightened his grip around her.

As they walked, seeing their escort and new Mew companion at ease with the residents, his children safe in their arms and his wife and best friend by his side... he felt a deep peace settle in him.

Once they could get all the secrets and misunderstandings out of the way...

It wouldn't be so bad here.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

[vulpixisananimal]

<You jolt awake. Stars, you thought you'd survive that. It was just one story up, and sure, it was a little glass, but->

(Do you mind?!?!?)

<You roll your eye. No, but Odile did. Ha. Come on, Siffrin. Odile wasn't acting like herself. She was a dangerous enemy- we had to escape.>

(Stars, come on! You had to at least try and see what was going on, right?!?)

<Stop being stupid. Odile knows how to stop us Looping.>

(. . . I-)

<I'm right.>

(Shut up.)

<You sigh and sit up from the Favor Tree. Back here again, strange- oh stars, You hold your head for a moment. Headache, and sick. Your stomach churns, head pounding.>

(Craft exhaustion- stars, this is why, I wanted to-)

<We'll get over it. Just- just, breathe. . .>

(You breathe in, and out.)

(. . . Ack, stars. Why WERE we waking up here again? Wasn't it because of sleep that we make a checkpoint?)

<Perhaps whatever strange logic the Universe has at work counts our little meeting as a sleep. Which doesn't make sense, because->

(Yes I know we weren't asleep. I'm not stupid.)

<Could have fooled me.>

(You grunt, and shake your head. You start walking down to the homestead, seeing Ramos and Mirabelle walking up to meet you.)

(Mira waves to you.) "S-siffrin!! Oh thank Change, are you okay???"

(You laugh half-heartedly.) "Yeah, just a bit dizzy, it's the stage."

"It's. . O-oh!" (Mira perks up a bit at that.) "Oh then! T-then I guess we've, told you everything already?"

"Yup." (You nod.) "I'll try and make this quick. . ."

>>>

(You quietly open up the back door to the Homestead, which lead straight to the kitchen. Mirabelle and Ramos followed behind you, ready for anything. With Isabeau waiting for you up front, and Odile possibly going after you upstairs, getting in the back would be the best idea.)

<Or you could break in a window again.>

(After what you did?!? Not a chance.)

"Hey, wasn't Bonnie cooking here this morning?" (Asks Ramos.)

"O-oh, yes! They were getting along with Jan." (She tried not to bite her nails.) "W-we should, check on them! Make sure they're ok!!"

"Good idea." (You nod, continuing through the kitchen. Nothing too strange, so you continue-)

"I thought the kiddo usually cleans up after themself." (Ramos says, you look back, they're looking at some half finished dishes.)

". . . They do." (You squint. That's not like Bonnie. If they didn't clean up, they'd make sure someone else did.) "Let's hurry."

(You get to the doorway to the common area and stop. You hear some voices.)

"Get him upstairs, we can figure it out there."

(Huh? Oh wait you knew that voice. You pause for a second.)

"I, I don't, why should I trust you?!? I'm fine! I-"

(You didn't recognize that voice. You hear a craft spell of something. You feel Mira lean in a bit close to listen in. She asks,) "What is it?"

"People I met last loop. One of them gets effected." (You listen in again.)

"He'll stay asleep for a bit. I'll take him upstairs."

"I'll make sure everythings safe. Just be quick."

(You hear them walk off. You sigh.) "Stars, maybe talking to Polaris coulda helped but. . ."

"Maybe. . ." (Ramos starts.) ". . . Well, maybe next time I could do something about it? If we're quick to get here?"

(You nod.) "Right, next time. C'mon, lets find Bonbon."

<You're really worried about the Kid, aren't you.>

(You frown as you step out into the common area. Of course you are! You care about Bonnie, and you have to make sure they're okay!!)

<The time could be better spent looking for the star. Then the Kid could be safe.>

(You ignore him. You start looking for anything out of the ordinary. There's a few random dishes left out, Jan wasn't around, those three travelers went upstairs, Isabeau was waiting outside. . . Hmm.)

(Looking up to your friend and ally, Mirabelle looked distracted, probably worried about the rest of your family. Ramos was staring at that sign in your language.)

"It's just a cheesy proverb," (You call over, going back to looking around.)

"Wait, really?" (Ramos turns to you, hand on hip.)

"Really."

"Why."

(You shrug.) "Not every island thing is some omen- Oh, yeah that reminds me, Mira?"

"O-oh?" (Mira looks over to you.)

"Did I ever mention that I found a book in my language in the Dormont library?"

"Oh really??? What was it about?? Was it helpful or anything???" (Her eyes brightened- genuine interest! Yes!!)

"I mean, I got the title," (You stick your tongue out.) "The Cursing of Château Castle, volume 2."

". . . Pfft-" (That makes her giggle.) "Of all the things to be found there!"

"I know right?!?" (You shake your head.) "H-haha, I was so excited, too. Finally able to read it, and lo and behold. . ."

"Hehe, It was just a book from my favorite series!"

"Exactly." (You finish looking around and walk over to her.) "Well, nothing here. Upstairs next?"

(Ramos and Mira nod in agreement. The three of you get back in formation as you lead them upstairs. You make sure to step quietly, listening as you go, not wanting to be caught off guard.)

(You hear some talking, a door opening, then closing. You take a few more steps, and peek over the top of the staircase. There's no one in the hall.)

<What is your goal, Siffrin.>

(To find Bonbon, like I said!)

<Ugh, fine. If you're looking for the kid, why would they be here? Where should you go?>

(The room they were staying in? That's where you think, anyway. You walk through the hall, hand on your dagger, Ramos and Mira right behind you.)

". . . Which room was Bonnies again?"

"O-oh uh, that one, on the left." (Mira replies, pointing to a door further down the hall. You head over to it. Nothing out of the ordinary yet. You put an ear to the door.)

(You could see Mirabelle get more and more fidgety with each second. You wait, still. . . . No, you couldn't hear anyone on the other side. You try the door, locked.)

"Stars."

"I could break it down, probably." (Ramos suggests.)

(You shake your head.) "Too much noise."

"Uhm, what about the outside window?" (Mira asks.)

(You make a face.) "Yeah, that could work. Again."

"Why didn't you go in a window this time?" (Ramos asks.)

(Your face was all the response they needed.)

<It wasn't that bad.>

". . . W-well. . . Where, where else can we check?" (Asks Mira, finger to her chin.)

"I'm. . . Hmm. . ." (You tap your foot.) ". . . Your room, Jans, double check my own room."

"Lets check yours- out of Odile's way, hopefully, and maybe Isa did something." (Ramos suggests. You nod.)

<Your rooms one door down. Right side. You have a key for it in your pocket.>

(How did- Oh, it was YOU who was in charge this morning then?)

<It was. What of it.>

(Unpack that another day. You get to your room, listen at the door for a moment, then unlock it. The three of your slip inside and you lock the door behind you.)

"One bed?!?" (You hear Mirabelle exclaim. Uhoh.)

"Stars, you two really are like a bonded couple." (Ramos jokes, giving you a look.)

"S-shut up! I thought it was going to be two beds!!"

"Suuuuuure." (Ramos rolls their eyes.)

(You tug up the collar of your cloak. Stupid. Dumb. At least they wont remember this. You go over to your pack to check if everything's in order, only to find it isn't.)

"Oh blind it all!" (Your pack had been completely upturned, belongings spread out across the floor. Stars, what on earth was this?!? Null, did you forget to lock up once you woke up?!?)

<No. I made sure to lock the door.>

(Great. Mira came to your side with a sour look.) "Was, anything stolen?"

(You crouch down, sorting through your things.) "No, it doesn't look like it, but. . ."

(Among the items was a lot of scrap paper. You had been noting things down on them. A lot of things. Before you realized your amnesia was partially caused by freeloaders in your head, you had made notes to yourself. A lot of those notes you didn't remember. Each of those notes were laid out neatly, like someone was looking through them.)

"Someone tried getting in here." (Ramos comments, you look over, they were inspecting the window.)

<That window's stuck.>

"But isn't that window stuck?" (You echo.)

"Yep, but. . . Here, here and here, signs of an attempted forced entry. Probably gave up 'cause it would make too much noise."

<Very, very concerning. There is a good chance that was last night.>

(Yeah yeah.) "Who was trying to get in then?"

(Ramos shrugged.) "I dunno. Someone who could scale up to a second story window?"

"But whoever it was, that might be who we're looking for!!" (Mira says, almost excited.) "Oh this is like a murder mystery!!"

"But without the murder." (You hope.) "Stars, what a mess. . ."

"Don't think there's anything else here." (Ramos comments.) "Where to next?"

"I'm not sure. It was around now that Odile showed up last time." (You sit down on your bed.) "She was upstairs, and I opened the door and. . ."

<Quiet down, then.>

(You hold up a hand, and a finger to your lips, and listened.)

(. . . There were a few footsteps outside, from down the hall. There were a few voices, possibly the other traveling group. No-one coming upstairs. . . You hear some light footsteps run past your door, followed by a slower, heavier pair.)

<Going downstairs. Light footsteps are possibly Wren. Possibly Bonnie. Check that out next Loop. Heavier footsteps are either Odile or Vixul. Most likely Odile and Bonnie then, right?>

(Then you should go check on them! Make sure they're alright!)

<No. If Odile is being effected by Mind Craft, which I think she is, then Bonnie is too.>

(You frown. Stars, you hate that he's right. You wait a few moments more before saying in a low whisper.) "That might have been Odile going downstairs."

"R-right." (Mira nods.) "What, w-what's next then, Siffrin?"

"Don't know." (You shrug.) "This was where I died last time."

(You see Mirabelle wince at that. Oh, right, she's still not used to you dying. Eh, it was fine. You think for a moment, where to go next. . .)

"Uh. . ." (Ramos spoke up.) "I, know you can't exactly take a note thought the loops, but, maybe going through daily events could help? Where everyone is and such?"

"Right. . ." (You tap your foot. Where would you even start with that?) "Next loop, though."

"A-alright." (Ramos replies. They look out the window to the rain.)

(There's an awkward silence, and you're not sure what to do right now. Sneak to one of the other rooms? You weren't sure if Odile was still out there waiting for you. You were really sure she was downstairs now, but you didn't know.)

<There is still a lot to think about, Siffrin. For one, why did, assumedly Isabeau, look through your things?>

(Because he's being mind controlled?)

<No, stupid. Think deeper. Why would he be commanded to do that.>

(Why would he- right. Someone is in control, after all. Was it who talked to Ramos and gave them that star? They did seem like prime suspects, and they were interested in their guardian who was from the Island. Were they looking for more about the Island?)

<Good. You're on track. What about people we know are here.>

(Well. . . Jan? Maybe? No that just doesn't seem right-)

<"Doesn't seem right" isn't a good reason.>

(Alright, what about Vixul and her group? Sure, they seemed just as confused about this as you were, but she was a researcher. It would be up her ally.)

<Getting better, keep going.>

(What about that mystery couple who left this morning? We don't know much- well, anything about them.)

<Then that's who you should look into, right?>

(But they left long before any of this Mind Craft started! Who knows if-)

"Crabbing Stars-!"

(The strange mix of curses snaps you back to reality. You turn to Ramos, whos face was pressed against the glass, looking, concerned.)

"W-what's wrong???" (Mira asks, standing up. You stand too, going to the window. Ramos moves to let you look.)

"It's that sadness again." (Says Ramos. As you look out. . . Stars, it was. It was barreling towards the homestead. Looking as mean as last time! Come ON!  Why did this have to happen NOW!!)

"O-oh, oh no-" (Mira grabbed her sword, moving to the door.)

"Mirabelle wait, just a second." (You start.) "If, if we just rush out there, then we could be stuck between, u-uhm-"

(You stop talking at the look Mirabelle gives you. R-right. You, you couldn't just, leave a sadness to run rampant, even if you were looping.)

"N-nevermind."

(You hear a crash from downstairs, and a scream. The three of you race to save the day.)

[judesmoonbeauty]

Love Begins From a Mean Lie: Victor Collection Event Story

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. Translation notes are marked with *** Dividers: @/natimiles

It was one day when I went to submit a report to Victor........

Victor: This is a grave situation!

Victor looked through the documents and let out a curt voice.

Kate: Huh, is there something wrong...?

Victor: No Kate, your work is perfect as usual! It’s just……

Victor: WILIAROGJUDROGALELHARIWILJUDELL!

(Uh, is that some kind of spell…?)

Victor: ....This is the order of the cursed people you wrote in your most recent report.

Victor: Do you notice anything?

Kate: Notice?

Victor: I’m not in it!

Kate: Ah, that's true.

Victor often has a busy schedule as the Queen's aide…….

He can't put in as many Crown assignments as the others.

Besides, I had not written a report on Victor recently, as I was accompanying the others on missions.

Victor: ……. Actually, Her Majesty the Queen told me that she didn't have enough information about me.

Victor: So, Kate! Will you write about me with your own hand?

Kate: I'll leave it to me, that's what I do!

Kate: But ..... Is there any mission that you can participate in from now on, Victor?

Victor: That's the thing. Crown assignments are allocated based on everyone's abilities.

Victor: Adding me after the fact would please everyone, but I can't deny that it will detract from the mission.

Victor: Besides, even though Her Majesty the Queen wants the information, the Queen's aide's job is not going away.

Kate: As usual, you've been busy……

Victor: …..Yes! How about you interview me?

Victor: I'm sure Her Majesty will be pleased if you put it all together and give it to her.

Kate: An interview....... Okay, I will! I look forward to working with you.

…….Thus began the interview to write down Victor's information.

Victor: My name is Victor. I am a the Queen's aide and a member of the Crown!

Victor: Height 183.5cm! Birthday is February 20th!

Victor: If you deliver any presents to Crown Castle, I'll be grateful for them!

Victor: Charming points? There are many, but if I had to choose just one, it would be the mole on my mouth.

Victor: This is also one of the "Seven Wonders of Vic," where if you press it, the left and right sides will be switched the next day!

Victor: I’m a cheerful person, who loves everyone at Crown and is loved by everyone at Crown. (👀??? That last bit is news to me.)

Victor: ……Come to think of it, we were talking about how Crown doesn't have a mascot.

Victor: I guess you could say I'm the mascot!

Victor began speaking without pause, and I took notes earnestly so as not to miss a single word.

(…..Hmmm. There's a lot of subjectivity in Victor's work, so we'll have to separate that properly.)

(Any other questions…….)

Kate: Victor……when do you usually sleep? I feel like you’re always awake.….

On sleepless nights, I wander into the kitchen and find Victor busy making sweets.

Early in the morning, I woke up for some reason and was taking a walk in the garden, and I saw Victor watering the flowers……

Victor was always there when I noticed it, so I wondered when he slept….. 

Victor: I'm just like everyone else. Sleep at night and get up in the morning! That's the secret to good health!

Kate: That’s right. When we met in the morning, you didn’t even have bedhead, so I thought you weren’t sleeping.

Victor: No way! I'm a normal human being. I need my sleep.

Victor: I have naturally good hair, but I don't miss taking care of it every night, so it's hard for me to have bedhead.

Victor: But, it’s not like I don’t sleep at all alright? If you don’t mind, why don’t you come wake me up?

Kate: Eh…..

Victor: If I could see your face when I woke up,…….I would be so happy that day.

Kate: …..Ah, I’ll think about it.

Victor: Hehe, you’re always welcome!

Watching someone wake up makes me feel like I'm trespassing on their private life, which makes me feel a bit uneasy…..

(The only people who are allowed to see that kind of thing are the people who are really close to you.)

(….. I wonder if even the always energetic Victor is a bit languid when he wakes up from sleep.)

Even though I refused, I couldn't help but imagine Victor waking up.

(....should not. I need to concentrate on the interview! Next question is....)

Kate: Recently, have you done anything bad Victor?

Victor: Hehe...there's always evil in Crown! Good question.

Victor: Bad things…….I guess so. I lied to an innocent child for my own personal greed.

Victor: As an apology, I'm going to prepare a delicious royal cake for the child! That’s usual news.

Kate: Victor is preparing a cake to apologize! That’s new.

Victor: Of course, it depends on the degree of lying....... By the way Kate, what kind of cake do you like?

Kate: I’m torn...... I like anything with chocolate, and strawberry shortcake too....

Kate: Oh, and items made with seasonal fruits are also hard to give up.

Kate: .... But I'm not being lied to by you now Victor, am I?

Victor: …..Do you believe so? Maybe without you even realizing it, I could be telling a terrible lie.

Kate: Then let's go to a cake shop together.

Kate: I have a lot of questions and choices to make, so please bear with me.

Victor: Hehe……You're so cute and confused, I might just buy the whole store.

(Victor would really buy everything …..)

Victor: Now, what's the next question?

Kate: Next, yes….

Kate: Victor is full of himself and cheerful……

Kate: You don’t seem to have anything to be afraid of, but is there anything?

Victor: Afraid of…..huh.

Victor: ……Everyone at Crown.

Kate: Oh, maybe that’s why you’re “afraid of cake”? ***

Victor: "Afraid of cake"?

Kate: By telling people that you’re scared of what you like……

Kate: It's an oriental story where….. you can get what you like from someone who scared you.

Kate: Victor, I think you intentionally said you were scared because you love everyone in the Crown.

Victor: Hehe, that’s an interesting story.

Victor: It's true that I cherish and love everyone at Crown……but what I just said is true.

Victor: If the Crown follows its path to the end and conquers evil with evil…..

Victor: ……Someday I will be judged by them.

Kate: What…..?

Victor: …..I think there is such a possibility.

I didn't think Victor had any crimes that would warrant being judged by the Crown…..

I don't know everything about him, so I couldn't deny it.

Kate: Because you're afraid of being judged... Are you afraid of Crown?

(Like God announcing death, the Crown announces destruction to evil.)

(Victor may also fear Crown as a symbol of his own destruction.…)

Victor: ….It’s a little different.

Victor: If I'm guilty, I think I deserve to be judged. There’s no fear there.

Victor: Just…

Victor: I'm so happy now that I'm spending time with everyone...I'm sad and scared that it will end someday.

(Victor isn't afraid of being punished...he's sad that his days are coming to an end.)

(In that case….)

Kate: …. I don't know what crime you’re guilty of Victor.

Kate: That sin, if it can be atoned for in some way….I don’t know.

Victor: ….Yeah.

Kate: But ……I, too, want these days to continue!

Kate: So if I can help, please give me a shout.

Kate: I will always help you Victor, just as you always do!

Before I knew it, I told Victor that I wanted to help him, and he smiled kindly at me.

Victor: …..Thank you, Kate.

-Then I asked many other questions and finished the interview with Victor.

Kate: Hmmm ........ I wrote a lot, but….

Kate: Does Her Majesty the Queen really want this information .....?

There are some parts where Victor's way of thinking and personality are well written.

Even if Her Majesty the Queen were to read it, it would contain information that would be neither harmful nor helpful.

Victor: Of course, I’m very happy! I'll be sure to give it to Her Majesty the Queen later!

Victor's jewel-like eyes sparkled as he picked up my report and smiled.

Victor: ……Thank you for writing about me, Kate.

When I returned to Crown Castle after the interview, I met William.

In the color of the setting sun shining into the hall, his red eyes that never lose their edge find me, and they flicker happily.

William: …. It seems it took quite a while to submit the report today.

William: Did you have afternoon tea with Victor?

Kate: No, it seems that Her Majesty the Queen actually wanted information about Victor…..

Kate: I interviewed Victor and compiled it into a report.

William: Hmm? …..that’s an odd story.

Kate: What…?

William: Her Majesty the Queen knows Victor better than anyone. She wouldn’t say she doesn’t have enough information.

Kate: What…? Does that mean Victor lied? Why?

William: Regarding Victor's lie this time...Is there anything that concerns you?

Kate: Concerned about…..

FLASHBACK

Victor: ….. Thank you for writing about me, Kate.

What left a particularly strong impression on me was the happy look on Victor's face when he saw my report after the interview.

FLASHBACK ENDS

(Could it be….)

Kate: Victor lied…..

Kate: …..Because he wanted me to write about himself?

William didn't confirm or deny my guess, and smiled leisurely.

William: …..Our work must not be known to others.

William: Only those who walk under the light are etched into Britain's glorious history.

William: There's no need to complain about it. But….

William: Sometimes you may wish to carve it with your own hands and leave it behind.

William: -As Britain flourishes and shines brightly, there is a dark shadow that falls over it.

(Victor wants me to write it down…..?)

(….If so, he’d be happy.)

As a fairytale keeper, I can record Victor's steps and make him happy.

Thinking like that, I became even more motivated.

(Besides, I would like to continue to write about it.)

(…If I do that, I'm sure I'll be able to get closer to Victor.)

***Just a note about the "afraid of cake" scene and being linked to a story or tale in the East. I couldn't find anything myself and I'm 100% sure I translated this scene inaccurately. So, take it with a grain of salt.

[Master Lists]

[copperbadge]

The Adventures Of Joe Superfly

I haven't been able to work on Chicken Salad War much recently -- it's less writer's block and more a confluence of issues that mean when I have the time I'm too tired for something novel-sized. It's temporary, but when I don't get to write I do start to get restless.

So the other night as I was doing dishes I circled around to a small issue that keeps nipping at me, which is Ephraim. He's got the most normal name of any of the Ramblers, which is uncharacteristic of Ceece and Tully. Well, I thought, maybe they let Eddie name him, but why would they let Eddie, the oldest, name the youngest, and not the THREE OTHERS inbetween? And why would Eddie pick Ephraim?

I decided to do up a little story about Eph, how he came by his name and what his life experiences have been. Much of it's a spoiler that needs a content warning but I figured I'd share a brief fun scene. Also it's good practice for writing Eph's somewhat elliptical style of speech; he is a man who gives no unnecessary context, and sometimes no necessary context. (All the context you all need to know is that Ephraim's parents wanted to name him Cherry Windward and instead Eddie named him Ephraim Prunus.)

Noah was on dishes duty with Joan, Ed's newly adopted eldest daughter, the evening that Ephraim found Ed on the porch of the royal fishing lodge. He sat next to him companionably, rocking on the porch swing and looking out at the lake.

"How many different names do you think you'll have in your life?" he asked without preamble. Ed laughed.

"I don't know. I think once you become a king the name locks in place," he said. "I've been Theophile and Ted and Ed and Eddie, and now back around to Theophile, at least in public. And then there's 'Dad' too. Why do you ask?"

Ephraim shrugged. "Monday was telling Jes about you naming me. Got to thinking about it."

"Well, you did return the favor eventually," Ed said. "Ed has suited me. Thinking of changing your name?"

"I was thinking of going by Prunus," Ephraim said, with such a deadpan expression that Ed hesitated, then burst out laughing when Eph smiled.

"Punk," he said, shoving Ephraim gently. "I only gave you that one to make mom and dad feel better about you having a normal-ass name. Man, you could see Dad's gears turning. We can always call him Pru."

Ephraim cackled. "Pru! Funny. I guess just…thanks."

"For what, big guy?" Ed asked.

"I didn't think I'd ever see Europe. Didn't think anyone outside Santa Luna would understand," Ephraim said. "But you went all over the world and found somewhere just like home. And I get to be here too. Which means maybe…I can be other places as well."

"There will always be a place for you, anywhere I am," Ed said seriously.

"Yes but also. They get it." Ephraim put on a lilting Shivadh accent. "That's Ephraim, he's King Theophile's brother, he doesn't say much but he's a good lad. No, you let Mr. Rambler alone, he's just shy. Hello young Ephraim, point out what you want to order when you're ready." He looked back out at the lake. "They're kind. I could thrive here."

"But not just yet, huh?" Ed asked. "Not with Noah leaving soon. He's going to Aotearoa and then coming to California, where you'll be."

"Yes."

"And after he graduates?" Ed asked delicately. "Maybe both of you back here?"

Ephraim turned to him. "I don't have a five year plan," he said witheringly, and this time Ed knew he was teasing.

"You son of a -- how dare you accuse me of asking you for a five year plan! Like I'm some kind of responsible adult? Roasted by my own blood!"

"You need it, Your Majesty," Ephraim said, then sobered. "I don't know yet. We'll figure it out."

"I'm sure you will."

"If you were going to name me again, what would you pick?"

Ed tousled his hair. "Buddy, you are now and forever Ephraim to me unless someday you tell me otherwise. I can't name you again. I don't think you need it, you're only just growing into that one. But if you did want a new name, I think you'd have to come up with it yourself -- or ask Noah."

Ephraim nodded thoughtfully. "I'm okay. Just curious."

"I think if you do you should move even more towards the extremes, though. From Cherry Windward to Ephraim Prunus to, I dunno, Joe Superfly."

"Joe Superfly!" Ephraim crowed. "Joe Superfly Rambler!"

"The twins should be glad we named them Edward and Miranda," Ed mused.

"Edward Superfly," Ephraim gasped.

"It's a great movie!"

"Miranda Shaft!" Ephraim blurted, and both brothers laughed until they cried.

[atamascolily]

Walpurgis no Kaiten Trailer #2 Breakdown

Aniplex dropped a 35-second trailer with new footage from Walpurgis no Kaiten, so let's take a look and see what we got!

Homura falls backwards in a stained glass cylinder that contains a spiraling staircase (we'll see the whole thing in a later shot). Note that this is the doppelganger because of her headband, and that the glass has Homura's distinctive diamond sigil on it, among other things.

We finally get our dance scene--not a pas de deux, but a waltz! Headband!Homura spins Madoka around, leading the action, and she appears to have taken Madoka by surprise. Note that waltzes also involve going in a circle.

I've talked before about how the doppelganger appears to be courting Madoka in the first trailer and how I think a Swan Lake-style "choice" might be forthcoming, so add this to the evidence pile. Madoka's voice over, "I will go with hope," also seems to suggest a choice.

I'm not sure where this is located, but I think it might be Madoka's house? A house, anyway. There are photos on the walls and chairs.

Doppelganger Homura is down so bad, y'all. And can you blame her? Also NOTE HER EYE COLOR HERE, HER EYES ARE RED, not brown (key visual) or purple (original Homura). Eyes are the window to the soul...

(Red eyes automatically make me think "Incubator", but I'm withholding judgement on that until we get more info.)

HELLO VISUAL METAPHOR!! Okay, so first off, we have a fan spinning in a circle, a cross-quartered circle with a closed eye at the center (!!!) surrounded by taped cardboard holding together a box marked with the emblems of "fragile, handle with care". I feel like that one speaks for itself.

(What do you want to bet that that eye opens.... EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD IS SPYING ON YOU.)

Continuing the eye focus, here's a close-up on one of the Clara Dolls holding up a magnifying glass to enlarge their own eye. This is Ibari (Pride). Note the yellow flowers around the lower part of the glass and that Ibari's eyelash is similar in size and shape to the one on the box fan in the previous shot.

My guess is that the Clara Doll's role in this story is primarily as a group/decoration/background element rather than full characters in their own right (the chorus witnessing the action in a theater production, as it were), but I love how this shot turned out and would be happy to see more like this.

Doppelganger Homura (?) examines her reflection in a compact mirror. She has the headband, but her eyes are purple here, like the original. I think she's adjusting her appearance here--literally, if she can shapeshift--to match the original, especially since she's also missing the dark collar that characterized the doppelganger in the key visual. Note sure what is going on with her headband when I look more closely--it seems to stick out from one side of her head and doesn't lie flat??

The scallop shape and the "Dummee Venus" inscription are a little too on the nose in my opinion... Venus being the goddess of love and beauty who was born out of seafoam on a scallop shell. [Is there a Botticelli reference in the house? TBD!!]

I suppose this could be the original Homura here, but the context makes more sense for the doppelganger. Again, note the round/circle, and mirror imagery and focus on the eyes.

EDIT: I was wrong, "Dumme" is German for "fool", not a misspelling of the English "dummy", so this could be the original Homura after all. Although Walpurgisnacht is also a fool, so... I guess we'll see with more context, but I'm leaning towards Original Flavor Homura for now.

View of the spiral staircase from above... a circle combined with a straight line makes a spiral. Note that the surrounding glass has Walpurgisnacht's signature motif of "peacock tails", suggesting a connection between the doppelganger Homura and Walpurgisnacht, and that Walpurgisnacht herself appears as a circle on radar.

The staircase abruptly cutting off and going nowhere also seems like a metaphor, huh.

Balloons going free, compare to a similar shot in Rebellion where they are trapped in a glass dome where Kyouko and Homura have lunch (more on this in a bit). Boundaries and prisons are breaking down, magical girls/witches cannot be contained any longer.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Devil Homura is torn down and overthrown. Interesting that one stocking is red-striped (or is that a ribbon wrapped around her from someone else) and the other is pure white--but with a black bow around the ankle.

Madoka enjoys a nice date with...??

(Note: this shot is in a different place from the one that immediately follows; I believe the two are deliberately juxtaposed to be misleading. More on this in a bit.)

God, I love this shot. Half a glass (glass half full, even) with their surroundings in miniature, and the glass is cracked and held together by threads of gold (kintsugi). The ring makes her a magical girl, the outfit is a Mitakihara middle school uniform, and her hair is green, so this is someone new.

also the diamond-shaped placemats juxtaposed with the circular saucer.

Hi, new character!! I have so many questions, but it looks like they really are in a teacup, or at least a different teacup--the old glass dome from Rebellion (or someplace similar) is full of trees and also flooded and now home to water lilies and lily pads.

Nagisa is spending quality time in the ball pit (insert DashCon meme here). And so is this new girl... my guess is human!Charlotte, but I don't have any evidence about that besides vibes and the way these two shots mirror each other.

I love this shot so much! Not sure what's going on, but there's Sayaka in her magical girl costume at the bottom.

Based on the similar backgrounds in these two shots, Madoka is either having tea with Mami or tea with someone else in the same space. Cake and dessert and birthday themes, a la Charlotte's labyrinth.

Feather pillows exploding on a modernist couch.

Kyouko on a pillar/table eating a piece of cake. Cranes and cityscape in the background at night.

Runes and the pages of a book. Witches coming out of a book? Or... something else? (see below)

Flash shot of Sayaka bandaged in a theater.

And here's Kyubey! On the shoulder of the pigtailed girl last seen with Nagisa, wearing the dark collar of the evil!/mirrorverse Mitakihara Middle School like the doppelganger in the key visual. Her eyes are hidden by her bangs and she's smiling. Piloe of books/records (alternate universes, if Magia Record imagery is anything to go by).

Whatever's happening, Kyubey is so in on it, lol.

The salamander representing Homura's dark orb (powers) is stabbed with some kind of metal, near a tea cup, causing it to disappear and explode. It then transforms into a shackle. That's probably not good.

(Whose arm, though? Homura is the most likely suspect, but we'll see.)

White feathers ascending to heaven, a circular vortex made of clouds and shining light, spinning, spiraling...

One of which is a mixture of black and white. This feels very significant, given my earlier predictions about "confronting one's opposite" and "people are neither nor good nor bad but a mix a both" being major themes.

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have more thoughts later, but that's my quick off-the-cuff reactions for now!

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Brooklyn_Babylon

(#Interview3)

Welcome to the next interview of the Dear Writer Project. This Sunday I’m here with Gina (twopoppies here on Tumblr). Thank you so much for participating and supporting my project. It was a pleasure to interview you.

Gina about her writing process, her inspirations and what she finds most challenging about writing:

What does your writing process look like?

Oh, you're going to call me out right from the get-go, huh? LOL! My writing process is that I am a complete pantser. I hate outlining and I'm not good at it (probably why I hate it). I generally get inspired by something visual and then build a story around that. The difficulty is that often, there's a concept, but there's no real story to tell. Or, I can't quite flesh it out enough to make it worth writing. But when something connects, I go bother India (indiaalphawhiskey on Tumblr) who is my beta/BFF/cheerleader and we'll talk through the story idea.

She's super helpful in terms of pushing me to think it through enough that I can write a very basic outline of what needs to happen to get from A to B. Then, I wing it. LOL!

What does writing mean to you?

From the time I was a kid, I've always been involved in doing something artistic--from fine art, to costume design, to writing, etc. I've just always needed some way to express myself, creatively. It took me a long time to get comfortable writing fiction because there are a few people in my family who are highly respected authors, and I felt I needed something of my own to sink my teeth into. But now that I've started, I realize how much I do love it (even when I hate it), and how much it allows me to dig deep into my own thoughts and emotions and be more self-aware. Beyond that, I think I'm at my most comfortable when I feel I'm helpful/supportive/nurturing. I used to write non-fiction that gave me that outlet. It's interesting that I can see those aspects in my fiction writing, as well.

Do you know before you start writing if an idea is going to become a oneshot or a longer fic?

I can generally tell if there's enough of a story to make it a chaptered fic. Sometimes the chapters just separate naturally.

Like, in An Invincible Summer, the story unfolded so that each chapter was a different month. But I had a basic idea of how I wanted the story to progress over that time period. I think, for the most part, I let the story dictate how it's going to flow.

You don’t write (or publish) as regularly as some other writers in the fandom. Why is that and would you like to write/publish more in the future?

Part of the reason is that I have a really busy life outside of the fandom (and writing). I also don't like to write just to fill up space. And I don't want to publish anything I don't think is the best I'm capable of at that moment.

On top of that, I'm just not one of those people who has a million stories in my head. I'm very visually stimulated and there are long periods of time where I just don't feel inspired. I also second-guess myself a lot and often end up shelving my WIPs. And... even when I'm inspired, I tend to write slowly. I like to take time to make sure I'm really saying what I want to say in the best way I can. I want to grow and challenge myself with each story I publish. I just don't see a point in doing it without that sort of intention.

On which of your stories did you write the longest?

I think An Invincible Summer probably took the longest. But it was also one of the easiest for me to write because the story just wrote itself in some ways. I had a much clearer picture from the start of how things were going to unfold. At the same time, there were moments that just happened as I wrote that ended up shifting the story from what I'd originally planned.

I recently went back and re-wrote that fic, adding another 10K to flesh it out better. I'm so much happier with it (even though I loved it before), but I haven't published the updated version on AO3. Not sure whether I will.

Which of your stories came together the fastest?

The first one (Whoever, However). But it's also only 9K. Harry dropped that Beauty Papers spread and my brain exploded. The story was all there. I think Hike Up Your Skirt was probably the next quickest (again, it's not terribly long), but that one I originally wrote for the Anonymous Unicorns collection so there was a lot of freedom in getting to write anything I wanted without fear of judgment. If I could only harness that, I'd be able to bang them out!

What fic of yours was the hardest to write?

I think Literally Making Love.

It was an unusual premise, in that it's about a robot and a human falling in love, but I really struggled with whether I should make it "more" than a love story. It felt like it deserved to be "more", or that it should have more about how AI changes the world and a conversation about loneliness and the way the world contributes to that. So I kept feeling like I wasn't going down the right path with what I was writing, but India reminded me that there's just as much value in a lighthearted story as there is in "serious" writing. We all know the joy of sinking into a comfort fic, or kicking our feet at something really sweet and happy. So I let Literally Making Love be what it wanted to be and I was ultimately super proud of it. And, in the end, I think I did a good job of dealing with the ethical issues, even though I didn't make that the center of the fic.

What inspires you most while writing?

Visuals to begin with. I tend to get inspired by photos or a piece of art. Sometimes song lyrics. But visuals keep me going so I make moodboards for myself and I find quotes or pictures on Tumblr that feel like they belong to the story. I think all of my fics have a link to an inspiration tag on my blog.

And then talking through things with India.

It's so helpful to have someone who gets what you're shooting for and who has the same sense of what makes for good writing. So I'll brainstorm with her when I'm stuck or give her sections to see if it's reading the way I want it to... It keeps me going.

I don't know how writers do it all by themselves. There are times when I've read something so many times that I can't even tell if it's any good. And I do the same for her... helping her get through her writing challenges or brainstorming her projects also makes me a better writer.

In the notes of Literally Making Love you mentioned a 9 month long writers block. What helped you out of it?

Truly it was just that piece of fan art I linked in the note at the start. I'd never seen that artist's work before and this drawing of Louis building an unfinished Harry ended up on my dash and I said, "Well, I'd read the hell out of that." Sadly, no one else was going to write it for me, so I had to do it myself.

While talking about this, I pointed out that I searched a few tags of this particular trope after I finished reading Literally Making Love and couldn’t find more than a handful of fics, which I was surprised by.

Gina thinks people are put off by the idea even if there are so many ways to handle it that could make for a beautiful story.

What do you find most challenging about writing?

I was about to say finding a title, but then I realized that I only had trouble with that in two of the five I wrote.

Hmm. Honestly, I think the most difficult thing for me to write are arguments/fights.

I tend to be really passive-aggressive when I argue, and that doesn't make for very good reading. So I really have to work at crafting a back-and-forth that feels natural but also packs enough of a punch for the scene to work. In An Invincible Summer, the argument scene was pretty pivotal, and one of my betas at the time made me re-write it three times before she signed off on it.

Is there anything you can tell me about future projects you’re planning?

I'm working on another historical fic at the moment. It's slow burn and longer than anything I've written before. So that's a challenge. It's set in the 1880s between the Belle Epoch debauchery and decadence of Paris, and Victorian London's rigid social structure and moral conservatism. Basically, Harry is a French ballet dancer turned sex worker/courtesan. Louis is a British aristocrat whose father has sent him off to Paris to get "the gay" out of his system before he has to marry. There are some twists and turns, and I'm having a lot of fun trying to keep things sexy and exciting for a modern reader while still being true to the time period.

I still don't have a title, and I'm still working on a brief description to sum it up. But... I'm about 60K in and I'm having fun.

When I told Gina that that sounds like you’d have to but lot of research into it, she said:

So much research! But I actually love that part. I get really into the nitty gritty and look up everything. For example, did you know the ice cream cone wasn't invented until 1896 (although not patented until 1903)? LOL! I had to change a scene I was writing because all of a sudden, I thought, "Did they have ice cream then? How did they keep it cold? How did they eat it?" I honestly hate reading something when little details are wrong. It totally pulls me out of a story.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Gina a few questions about her works in particular.

Gina about her favourite scene she wrote, her experience with writing before writing fanfics and being inspired by her own family’s history:

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

Hm. I think Literally Making Love is my favorite because it's the most unique concept, and I'm really proud of some of the writing in that one.

Hike Up Your Skirt is, I think, my most popular one. But that's not surprising because it's complete filth.

Do you have a favourite scene that you wrote?

There's a scene in Literally Making Love when they're walking the dog through the woods, and they're talking about the concept of being lonely, and Harry realizes he's the only one in the world who can understand anything he's experienced. I just really loved how that scene came together. To me it's very visual, and it's got that kind of poetic, dreamy feeling to it that I love to find in fics (and am forever trying to emulate, but I think that might be the only time I've succeeded so far).

I told Gina that this was a scene that definitely made me think about the concept of being all alone with an experience. Here’s what she said about that:

I like moments in a story that make you stop and think about more than just the story you're reading. I think these days, we can much more easily connect with others who can understand most of our experiences very deeply. Although, I imagine if you were the only highly advanced AI robot in the world, you might have some experiences no one else has had to grapple with.

Is there a work of yours that was planned to go completely different than it came out in the end?

There are definitely moments within the stories that I never planned on, and they changed some aspects of how the story ultimately came together.

For example, in An Invincible Summer, the idea for Harry to hold on to memories by getting a camera popped out of nowhere.

In Literally Making Love, the scene of Louis painting Harry's tattoos over his scars came in a dream and that meant I added the aspect of Harry's body dysmorphia. So, little things for sure.

Whoever, However was your first fic you published. Did you write in any form before that?

I did.

I wrote non-fiction for a bunch of magazines and online outlets. I've also ghostwritten three books.

Beyond that, no. Just lengthy blog posts about two gay boybanders.

What were your inspirations for gathered on wings?

There was a photo of Louis in some sort of haphazardly layered jackets and standing in front of these graffitied walls, and it had this caption, saying that he looked like a PhD candidate at the Sorbonne. That was how the idea started.

I had wanted to write a teacher/student fic without the creepy aspect of grooming and inappropriate conduct, and somehow my comment led to Harry having been his intern and them meeting again years later.

Then, the research on all the modern art and the high-end art world informed the rest of the story.

You didn’t go much into detail how successful Harry’s art got after ‘Comrade’ recommended his art for an exhibition at the Marlborough Gallery. Was that the push Harry’s work needed to get the attention it deserved?

It was.

He'd been relying on sugar daddies to pay his way and to give him the connections to patrons. But Comrade vouching for him opened the doors to him being able to do it independently. It's that feeling of, "If I could just get my foot in the door, I could show them what I can do."

That was his foot in the door.

Gathered on wings was my first attempt at writing a chaptered fic, and there was a huge learning curve. There are parts of it I really like and parts I sometimes want to go back and re-write.

Do you think Louis’ identity in gathered on wings always stayed hidden even after they got engaged (and eventually married)?

I like to imagine that as Harry became more widely known, people became interested in his partner. And Louis would then decide to reveal his identity with a new installation that they collaborated on.

Staying hidden when your partner is famous is probably a hard thing to do.

I think so. Especially if you're in the same field. In a way, it mirrors the idea of the two of them coming out at some point.

You said in the notes for An Invincible Summer that it’s inspired by your grandfather’s life. Was that your only inspiration for the story?

It's what set the scene. Other than that, I knew I wanted to write about writing and seeing yourself in a book or feeling understood by someone you never met but who's somehow written about you and your life. The concept of feeling really "seen" is something that shows up again and again for me.

You didn’t go into any detail about Harry’s relationship with his adoptive parents after he left at the end of An Invincible Summer, even though his mother tried to support him as much as she could when he had to leave. Do you think they held contact after Harry was forced to leave or if he/they even went back as a part of H & L’s adventures?

I think Harry managed to stay in touch with his mother secretly and to eventually reunite with his sisters.

When I rewrote the story, I changed the middle sister to a brother to show another way that Harry was treated differently. So I imagine Big Jim and the little brother digging their heels in and acting like he never existed. But Harry and Louis eventually had a beautiful and extensive found family.

The end of Hike Up your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) is pretty much open. How do you think their relationship progressed and do you think they have a chance of having a normal (as in no power imbalance or manipulation) relationship?

Mmm. I actually started writing a second part from Harry's POV where you see that Harry is also playing a game to get Louis to fall for him. I see their relationship becoming a 24/7 Dom/Sub life. I think they're both way too kinky and maybe a little too depraved to have a "normal" relationship.

Are any of your original characters inspired by people you know in your day-to-day life?

No, actually. LOL! Very simple answer. They're all just figments of my imagination.

A lot of other writers in the fandom have difficulties or are just a little uncomfortable with writing smut. That doesn’t seem to be the case for you. Why’s that?

HAHAHAHA! No, I think it’s actually the easiest part for me to write. I’m not sure why. I don’t have a lot of hang ups around sex, so maybe that helps. And I love the idea of character development through intimate scenes.

How did you come up with the idea for your fic rec masterpost here on Tumblr and how did all of that start?

I think it just started because someone asked if I could recommend some fics in a particular category (If I remember correctly, it might have been dystopian fics). And I had too much time on my hands, so I decided to make a header and write little blurbs about why I liked each one I was suggesting.

Somehow that turned into a deluge of people asking for different things and, for whatever reason, I had the time at that moment. So I made rec after rec.

At some point it was annoying that people kept asking for the same things, so I just made an alphabetical masterpost.

Is there a specific trope or genre you’d like to read more of?

Oh, that's a good question. It's so much easier to tell you what I don't like.

Honestly, to me, it's really more about the writing than about the trope or genre. But I do really like a good enemies-to-lovers fic, and if you can write a new twist on a fake relationship, I'm all in.

Do you somehow track the fics you’ve read? And if you do, can you give me a rough number of how many you’ve read?

So, I only bookmark fics I've really loved. Obviously some I love more than others, but I currently have 655 fics bookmarked.

I've been reading in this fandom for 11 years. Some I won't have read all the way through, but counting those, I'm sure I've literally read thousands.

I've gone through periods where I've just got a lot more free time at one point or another. And when I entered the fandom in 2013 there were literally so many terrific fics I didn't know where to start.

And every time you turned around there was another. It was very addicting.

Are you reading anything right now? If not, what was the last thing you’ve read?

I have a hard time reading when I'm actively writing, so nothing really recent.

The last fic I read that I really liked was Danger I Can't Hide by CelticSky. It's actually a WWII fic but set on the airbase where H is a pilot and Louis is a mechanic. It's just so well written and so well researched. Highly recommend.

For the next part of the interview, Gina answered some personal questions about her experiences in the fandom.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a fan?

Since November 2013.

I took my daughter (who was 6 at the time) to see This Is Us. Did a little research to make sure this boy band was appropriate for her and then fell in love with them. We ended up seeing the movie three times, then bought it and watched it at home. She was a Niall girl.

She was my concert buddy for a while. One Direction at the Rose Bowl in 2014 was her first concert.

The weirdest comment you got?

Oh, I get some doozies on Tumblr.

I think one of my favorites was from years ago when I used to do a lot of NSFW fan art. I got an anonymous message from someone claiming to be Harry's lawyer and they were demanding I delete all of my fan art of Harry. HAHAHAHA! Like an attorney would send an anon. Or even ask for something like that. I still laugh when I think about that one.

Harry or Louis?

It's very hard to choose because they're both amazing. I'm a Harry girl from way back. But I obviously love and support Louis, too.

Harry just really inspires me in so many ways. And his music is more my speed.

Your favourite Harry era and your favourite Louis era?

Oh, that's hard. I think Harry's recent era (Harry's House) might be my favorite because he seemed so happy and so self-assured and confident in who he is as a person. He looked fantastic too. Other eras are special to me because of what was going on with the fandom at the time, or because I liked the way he dressed or whatever, but in terms of just enjoying him, I'd have to say this last tour.

Louis is a little more difficult for me because I've had a really hard time with his image over this last tour and his doubling down on babygate. I'm very happy he says he's really happy and proud of his album/tour, but if I had to pick my favorite I feel like he looked the healthiest and most at ease during MITAM promo. Oh, he looked great during his Walls promo, too.

Your favourite movie with H?

My Policeman. It was a bit uneven, but he really blew me away in some of his scenes. He understood that character inside and out.

Your favourite writer(s) in the fandom?

I actually have so many that I like, although many aren’t in our fandom anymore.

It might be easier to link you to a Favorite Authors rec I made a while ago.

What are your absolute favourite fics in the fandom?

I’m going to make it easy on myself again and link you to a Favourite Fics rec.

Is there a fic that is not necessarily your favourite but still always kind of stuck in your head ?

There are fics that aren’t necessarily the most groundbreaking or complex, but something about them makes me keep coming back to re-read. Don't kill me, but... My Favorite Re-Reads.

I wanted to give you a favorite out of that list, but as I scrolled I was like, oh wait, that one! No, that one! So... sorry, you get them all.

What makes you want to stop reading something?

Hm. So many things, honestly.

Writing where people try too hard to be poetic, continuous spelling and grammar mistakes, miscommunication as the only tension, no tension at all, characterizations that make no sense to me, fics that go on and on and on with no attempt at editing, kid fics, etc. I really have very few squicks, but bad writing is hard for me to ignore (I know "bad" is subjective, so I hope no one takes offense at that... just because I don't like it doesn't mean others don't love it).

Your favourite song at the moment?

Chappell Roan is stuck in my head lately. So, I'll say Casual (although Pink Pony Club is a bop).

Your favourite season?

Fall. Absolutely. SO fucking sick of summer.

The most unusual thing that inspired you?

LOL! I'd have to say the Vintage "Sleaze" novel that inspired Hike Up Your Skirt. It was called "Horizontal Secretary".

Who would you most like to read an interview from?

Well, I'm obviously going to say India because I think she's a great writer. But she's also so well-spoken and interesting.

I'd love to read an interview with CelticSky because I loved Danger I Can't Hide so much and I don't know them since they're on Twitter!

Lastly I asked Gina to give every work of hers a colour. Here’s the outcome of that:

Whoever, However -- yellow

Whoever, However is yellow, because when I think about it, I picture the warm, yellow shade of the wood paneling of the room they filmed in.

gathered on wings -- blue

I’m not sure why gathered on wings is blue in my head. Maybe it’s just because that’s the main color of the mood board I made.

An Invincible Summer -- green

An Invincible Summer is green because the rural Georgia setting became one of the characters of the fic. When I think about it, I see the sprawling farm, the rampant kudzu, blueberry fields, lunch under the oak trees… it just feels green to me.

Literally Making Love -- red

Literally Making Love is red because so much of the story is about what it means to be human and even though Harry’s heart isn’t “real” at some point he says to Louis, “Sometimes I feel like you made my heart too small because it doesn’t hold everything I feel for you. I feel it overflowing everywhere.” Or, maybe it’s because it has “Love” in the title. LOL!

Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) -- purple

I don’t know. The first thought that came to me was purple because I pictured Harry’s character with love bite bruises.

A huge thank you to Gina again. Thank you for being so open and honest while answering my questions. I had the best time talking to you and was so invested in every work of yours.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Eight

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word Count; 2,969 (nice)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature language

Notes; Last chapter for the weekend, so I hope you all enjoy it! Also, the first of many Sylus-centric chapters. I'm a Rafayel girlie at heart, so it feels wrong to have so many Sylus focused chapters, but it feels like Sylus needs a lot of chapters since he has a lot of good scenes.

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Masterlist

Don't forget to check out my ideas for the future to see what other plans I have for this story and any future ones I plan to write! Also since I accidentally posted seven early, I might as well post eight early as well and then I'll do nine later on today as a treat! 🩷

The next time you wake up, you're in the back of a van with your hands tied together. Your head was pounding, your mouth felt drier than a desert and you could taste something metallic on your tongue. You really didn't even want to open your eyes because of the pain, but you do take a few mental notes. The smell of cheap leather and that the van was still moving, be it shaky and rickety. You're most likely on a dirt road or a road that hasn't been used in some while.

Even though the man threatened to inject you with the neurotoxin, you really thought he'd at least keep his word and not go through with it if you didn't fight, but it seems like he did anyway. Good thing you took the inhibitor Xavier gave you.

Even though it's dark inside the vehicle, you notice your jacket is off to the side but your watch and your guns are missing. Possibly in the vehicle somewhere. As you think of a way to get out of this mess, you notice the man is talking on the phone.

“I took a big risk snatching prey from the Nest. The reward needs to be better than that.” You try to look and see what the man looks like but he's wearing a black cap and a mask over his mouth, though you can at least see his hair. It's not white so he's not the man you're looking for.

You begin struggling with the binding on your arms, trying your best to make them even a little bit more loose.

“You sure this is right? I've driven down this same road three times. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear the man sigh before the van makes a noise. “Just my luck. The car broke down all the way out here..” He angrily opens his door to step outside before he opens the back of the van. “Get out. We'll wait here.” He grabs you by your restraints and pulls you out of the van. You take the chance to look around at your surroundings hoping to see anything familiar but it's dark out.

He all but throws you to the ground on your already injured knees and you hold back a hiss between your teeth. “Not a soul to be seen..Just an abandoned yard. Hurry up and send someone over.” The man was still on the phone.

You notice dead trees, a metal fence that seems to have been broken before, large boulders and rocks. This place seems more like a graveyard than anything. Your gaze turns to a dirty cobblestone structure nearby, you assume it used to be white but its more of a cream or light tan colour now.

“You're wide awake, huh. Guess you're a tough gal but I'm warning you, don't try any trick on me. You hear? I'm not against hurting a woman.” The man scoffs, clicking his tongue as he brandishes a pocket knife and taps it against his palm. “So you're just a middleman. Are you working for people in the N109 Zone?” You ask with a raised brow, putting on a tough act.

“Shut up. Let me inspect the goods before I hand you over.” His voice was cold as he points the knife at you. “Where did you hide the aether core?” You can't help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, finding it amusing that he's looking for something intangible. He'd have to cut it out if he really wanted to 'inspect the goods'. Though before you can say anything else, you hear another voice.

“Kidnapping Onychinus’ prey without letting us know..Wow, that's not exactly polite now, is it?” The disembodied voice sounded amused and taunting.

“Who's there?” Your masked kidnapper quickly pulls you to your feet, holding the pocket knife to your throat as he looks around. Seems like he's panicking. But Onychinus? Hmm…so it seems like they weren't the ones who kidnapped you.

“She's ours, by the way. We called dibs a long time ago.” and then, seemingly out of nowhere, the man's hand gets cut.

You flinch and the man drops you from the sudden pain in his hand. You fall to the ground once more, scowling at the pain in your legs before sitting down on the ground so as to not hurt your bloodied knees anymore. Maybe a skirt was a bad idea… You turn back to look over at your kidnapper who was now on the ground as well, holding his arm.

Your eyes widen as you notice two masked men appearing from red and black smoke. “I'm really curious..She's brave enough to drink from a black glass.” One of the newcomers twirls a knife around in his hand before resting his foot on your kidnapper's back. The other man starts walking toward you. “I wonder what will she do when backed into a corner?”

The masked man kicks your kidnapper to the side, taking a few steps toward you and that's when you notice they're both wearing a full black mask with a hooked beak. You can't see their eyes or anything. They have their hood up and it seems like there's tiny red horns on the top of the hood. “You're pretty bold for releasing information about the aether core in the Nest like that.” The one with a piercing through his left horn says and the other, who has one through his right, leans his whole upper body to the side. “Explains why boss is interested.”

“I see…So Sylus sent you.” The man on the ground laughs as he rises up to his knees. “But the aether core….is mine!” He suddenly pulls out a gun from behind his back and aims it directly at you before shooting.

The smell of gunpowder fills the air as you flinch back with your eyes closed. Though, you don't feel any pain. Instead, when you open your eyes, you see the man covered in a dark crimson and black mist. His actions constricted and the bullet, so close to your face, wrapped in the same mist before it disintegrated the bullet as if it were never there. The fog wraps around the man's hand, causing him to drop his gun before it swells up around him, wrapping around his neck and lifting him into the air. The mist swirls around him, almost seeming like it's working its way through his body until the man…explodes. Or at least that's what you think.

You see no blood, only the smoke slowly falling down toward the ground as if it's job is done. Then you notice that the two men in crow masks are walking away. It seems their part is done so that must mean…your gaze is brought back to the cobblestone structure, there's now a person standing on top of it with their thumb looped through their belt loop. The sound of a large bell chiming in front of a seemingly red moon.

You now realize your binds are undone, you could leave at any time but you're paralyzed with fear. You haven't been sure what to expect for awhile now and you honestly thought you'd be happy to see Sylus for the first time but, in fact, it's actually terrifying.

A crow caws, flying through the sky until landing on his shoulder as the man on top of the wall reabsorbs his energy with a stretched out hand. He then steps toward the edge of the wall and disappears in a swirl of that same coloured mist before appearing a few steps in front of you.

“Take out the vermin that are still running amok.” The white haired man says, his voice a deep timber that you'd usually be freaking out over but right now you're freaking out for an entirely different reason. The men in the crow masks echo a ‘yes sir’ as Sylus slowly walks up to you. Once he's in front of you, he tilts his head to the side with a scoff.

“You're…also here for the core, right?” You manage to say, trying your best not to look at him because he's hot, but also scary. He crouches down, leaning a bit forward as he says, “Even if you wanted to sell your soul, you still have to find someone who can pay the price.”

He reaches down to grab your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look at me.” His voice void of any emotion, even though his facial expression was rather soft. “You-” you flinch as his right eye begins to glow. Voices that you feel like shouldn't be here begin chanting in your head. “Devour him..” They echo. "Take the power.”

Your head begins to pound as blood rushes to it. You suddenly look down and your hands are bloody. “Take it…” “Just…kill him.” You want to hit your head, you want to tell yourself this isn't real because you know it isn't. You're confused and your head hurts and you try to look away from him, realizing something is wrong with his eye.

Your hand darts out to grab the dropped pocket knife and you find yourself cutting Sylus’ cheek, the black and red energy holding your wrist in place so you can't cause anymore damage.

He chuckles, amused by your actions. “Is this how you greet a new friend?” He swipes his thumb across his cheek, the wound disappearing as if it were never there. “I guess you don't remember anything.” He says as he brings his hand up to brush his knuckles against your cheek. “Allow me to jog your memory.” His hand goes further down before wrapping around your throat. That's when you begin to panic, grabbing his wrist with your free hand. “Let go of me.” But your attempts are weak at best.

With his hand around your throat, he makes you look back into his eyes. “From your past to your future…to even all of the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I… were the same. True kindred spirits.”

You've must've blacked out because the next time you come to you're on the ground. “Three days. Yet we're unable to achieve even a simple resonance. How disappointing.” You hear Sylus before you see him. Three days? How come you don't remember any of that? You wince and turn your head to look in his direction, noticing that he's sitting with his legs crossed on a plush red chair. It almost looks like a throne.

With a wave of his finger, his evol wraps around you and pulls you toward him. “What do you want?” You ask, exasperated and you're almost to the point of giving up. Especially when you don't know what'll happen next or even what path is the safe one. You tug at the energy wrapped around you but your hands go through it like smoke until you find yourself in Sylus’ lap. Now any other time, you'd be throwing a party about being in a hot man's lap but right now? You're not sure how to feel.

“You went through all that trouble to enter the N109 Zone. I must fulfill my duty as your host.” He says before he uses his evol to lift your arm up, his fingers dancing along the soft skin of your wrist before making their way to your tightly closed hand. His index finger trying to wiggle its way under your fingers before he adds a bit more pressure, using his evol to pry your hand open. His palm pressing flat against yours before he intertwines your fingers and pulls your connected hands to his chest. His eyes closing as he tries to force the resonance. “Stop-” you try to pull your hand away but his energy evol keeps your hand and your body where he wants it.

The voice in your head coming back to rear its ugly head. “Devour him…He's yours..” You get that, you get that he's hot and all, but do you really need to devour him? It's not like he's yours either- “He's right there..before your very eyes.” Damn okay voice, chill. Thirsty much? “His..” “eye..” the voice is cutting in and out, you can only hear a tad bit of what it's saying until the energy dissipates with a tiny flash of light. The resonance worked?

Sylus scoffs, looking at the light dancing across his hand, “It's a shame your evol has deteriorated into its current state.” You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself and you throw some bait out. “My family's deaths…You're behind them, right?” If he's a love interest, you know there's no way he is but you have to, at least, act that way to find answers. “Family?” Sylus chuckles to himself, “The people closest to you might be the ones who want to kill you the most.” Your brows furrow at that. Huh, that was a theory you never thought about. But who?

Wait, act angry. Right…uh say something, anything. “Shut up! Right now, I just…I just..” your head begins hurting again, “I just want to kill you myself!”

What? That's not what was meant by “say anything” but alright.

You flinch as soon as the words leave your mouth. You didn't mean to say that, did you? Though as you're unable to control your actions, Sylus catches your hand. “Do you think your evol will help you in a fight against me? Your courage is admirable.” He pushes your hand away with an unamused expression. “You're lucky I don't like picking on the weak, kitten.”

…what?

Before you have any time to dwell on what he just called you, he holds his hand out and uses his energy to pull something toward him. One of your guns lands in his hand. “What're you doing?” You ask, a bit nervous at the firearm held firmly in his grasp. He makes sure it's loaded, cocks it, and then holds the gun out to you. “Didn't you want my life? Or do your words just ring hollow?”

Ah shit, here come the voices again. “Kill him.” Wait, the voices didn't want you to fu- Nevermind that, you really don't want to grab the gun but it's out of your control. Your hand moves on its own, taking a hold of the gun and even your mouth moves on its own. “You think I won't do it?” You hold the gun up to his head, internally screaming and pleading to not let this happen because it would be a shame if you were the one to kill such a handsome man. “Now…that's much better. Though, you do owe me a curtain call grander than death itself,” Sylus muses, wrapping his fingers around the muzzle of your pistol as he slowly brings it lower and presses it against his chest as your hands shake.

“I..” “Why're you trembling? Has your resolve already begun to falter? You weren't just bluffing, were you?” He tilts his head to the side and you honestly want to yell at him and ask if he's crazy or thinks he has nine lives or something but you can't since whatever mysterious power you have inside of you is still controlling your movements. “No, of course not. It's just..” you trail off and he slowly moves his hand down to wrap around both of yours on the gun. “Want some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?”

He's so hot, he's so-

Bam.

You…you shot him? You actually shot him? Are you sure you won't regret this later? That's actually like crazy that you shot him just now. Well- it's not like you had any part in it. You couldn't control your actions to begin with..

Darkness.

Darkness is all you see. You felt so…hungry. So empty. Anything would be great to fill this emptiness you felt inside.

“Devour him..” Shit the voices were back. “Its…your power.” It was probably Sylus’ power, but pop off voice.

You weren't sure how long you had to endure the voices but they finally went silent. Leaving you in the dark, alone. It almost…felt cold.

The ending is a bit abrupt, so I'm going to apologize up front for that- I honestly didn't realize just how cut it was since it lines up pretty well with the next chapter. You'll have to wait to see that next week though, unless I end up feeling excited enough to post chapter nine early! 🤔 Either way, I hope you liked the comedic turn I took with the second half of the chapter. It was too good to pass up. Also, I tried something different with the paragraphs. I added double spaces between specific, important ones and just the standard singular with everything else. Let me know which you like between (between chapters 6-8 and I'll start doing them like that in the future!)

Anyway, if there's any spelling errors and stuff like that, then that's on me. I've re-read all of these chapters so many times and re-worked so much of it, but I'm bound to miss some errors so hopefully it's not too bad!

Taglist; @orphicmeliora

[themareverine]

Until We Fall ▹masterlist | worst!Logan x mutant!fem!OC

summary: DP&W AU. It's been God knows how many years after Logan's death in North Dakota—and this wouldn't be much of a story without a shiny new villain with a hot new plan, or someone to save the world. Well, maybe two someones. Ok, you win, three. But first, you have track down that said someone—the Wolverine. And who better to do that than the girl who found him the first time? Logan/OC

a/n: *knocks on glass, looks confused* hi, anyone still here? If so, welcome in! here's my DP& W AU. i have no idea what I'm doing. this is a sequel that i'm writing kinda-sorta at the same time as my main series, Mare & the Wolverine, and yes, please know, this is kinda self-insert-y. let me live, will you? reposting from my old account, OC is a mutant.

series masterlist | nav | | next

It's Called an Intro, Motherf******

Hi, welcome to the fuc–I mean freak, show. Don't want to blow the whole damn budget on the first 2.5 seconds of page time, right? Critics, good God–they're the worst. One sentence in and they'll judge the whole effin' book, hook line and sinker without even getting to the plot. Frickin' internet has made everyonea literary genius. Not.

ANYWAY—you're probably wondering what the eff I'm doing in the middle of this shitshow, huh? A story that isn't mine, hell—a story that isn't even technically writtenyet. That's a Fox thing. Or an MCU thing. Or a….thing, I guess? Dunno, this habit of timelines and then redoing and undoing them like a nun unbuckling a priests robes in a spittin' hurry after church is getting old—nobody really knows what the heck is going on. But, that's showbiz, right?

Rabbit trail, sorry. Frickin' brain. Anyway, yes–here. Ahem.

Well, really, we've got ourselves a Code Redpool (see what I did there?) with this one—someone trying to take over the world, rattle some cages, all that jazz. And if you didn't already know, such sticky little cumsucking messes requires a little bit more than a mercenary with a mouth. We already know I can't—don't—save the world. Despite what the box office may lend. It's above my paygrade, my hero tier. This rated R mothereffer hasn't gotten there yet, not on his own. Maybe another million or fifty.

Could be different this go around, though. Who effin' knows. All I know is that to save a world, to make a story, you need a couple of things—a smashin' budget, a whole helluva lot of copyright law, and a hero. An "anchor being," because Marvel has to be frickin' special. Sometimes two when the situation is Redpool, like it is. Maybe three, because I'll be EFFED if I'm not part of this one. Earnin' my stripes, going all Tony the Tiger and shit. You know the drill.

To help me out, I need the big guy. Yeah. Not Jesus, though it could be argued He's a factor, here. Very non denominational, very off script, very demure. Think more…yellow. Feral, as it were. Canadian. Yeah, dumbass—we need the Wolverine. The guy with the forks, the mutton chops from the 70s that were definitely a…choice. Logan. Yeah, him. Mr. Feral Forest Weasel himself.

And we'll probably need someone who can help us get to Logan, since he wouldn't know me from fresh effin' ADAM. If you saw Logan, you'll understand. Though it didn't happen exactly that way, because this is an AU—that fanfiction shit, you know. Sigh. We need someone who's tamed the beast, has clawed under all that adamantium and seen the hero where a trainwreck of a multiple-movies-gone-bad guy has stood.

A girl, genius. We need a girl. And lucky for you, delightful little fourth-wallians, I've got just the one.

Buckle up, mothereffer's—shit's about to get Wolverine-d.

Contents ➳❥ somewhere in the past, north dakota (in other words, the prologue) ➳❥ always sinners, rarely saints

[cherrywhite]

TSV Fan Favorite Survey Results

Last week I made a small TSV survey for the heck of it and ended up getting way more results than I originally expected!! Wanted to share the results.

When I'm in a "Who's your favorite TSV main character" competition and my opponent is Carpenter 🤯 (Okay but.. is anyone surprised?)

Fun fact: for a while Hayward had only one or two votes and idk why that surprised me so much. Though I'm shocked he got more than Faulkner overall

Top 5 minor characters, as voted: Val > Shrue > Sibling Rane > Gage > Sid Wright

Also unsurprising! Though I regret that I didn't word the question as "Pick up to 5" instead of top 5. Val almost got 100% of the votes in this category... off by 4.. I respect you but also who are you 4 I just want to know

Top 5 side characters, as voted: Acantha > Nana Glass / Greve > Charity / Elgin > The Homesick Corpse > Chuck Harm (though Cross came very close to tying!!)

Acantha at the top is also unsurprising! Though.. looking at the top one.. looks like we all have a thing for old ladies, huh? Definitely my mistake in that I didn't add Em and Vaughn in there to begin with💦 Shoutout to the one person who voted Helen. Also, we love to see that Daggler got 0 votes.

Favorite God, as voted: Th Cairn Maiden > The Many Below > The Trawlerman > The Watcher in the Wings > The Saint Electric

The Beast that Stalks in the Long Grass and The Last Word each got one vote. Also, The Chitterling got a vote. Henge, the god Hayward mentions in s1, the one that takes things people wish to lose, got two votes! :D Idk why, but it's such an unexpected pull to me, it makes me happy to see it was remembered!

Top 5 s1 episodes, as voted: Chapter 4 > Chapter 7 & Chapter 15 > Chapter 1 > Chapter 13 > Chapter 3, 8, 11, & 12 (tied with 3 votes)

Fun fact: of season 1 episodes, only 4/15 episodes weren't picked as someone's favorite!!

Top 5 s2 episodes, as voted: Chapter 24 > Chapter 29 > Chapter 19 > Chapter 17 > Chapter 23

Also not surprised because chapter 24 is also my favorite (probably my most relistened to episode and it still makes me cry). Though, I will say, I was surprised chapter 20 didn't have more votes since that one also seems to be a favorite writing wise!

Fun fact: of all s2 episodes, only 1 episode wasn't picked as someone's favorite! (okay, idk why it's important to me to point out, I just think it's interesting!! Though I can admit I could probably phrase it better. I think the fave episodes are spread out pretty evenly for each season though, which is really neat in my opinion.)

Top 5 s3 episodes, as voted: Chapter 46 > Chapter 38 > Chapter 37 > Chapter 36 (we are not immune to a good tragic love story, I see) & Chapter 43 > Chapter 44

For a while, Chapter 38 had the most votes which I thought was.. idk how to better phrase it, but.. sweet. Because Carpenter's returning home episode was the fave of s2 and if Faulkner's returning home episode had also been the fave... something something we sure do love these terrible siblings, huh? But! Unsurprisingly the finale is the big fave of the season. How many of us have recovered from it??

Fun fact: Of season 3, only 3 episodes weren't chosen!

Boooo I shouldn't have given y'all the option to abstain from picking!! "Don't make me choose," you cowards!! /lh

mandatory link to this recommendation

Favorite episode title:

Hi. So, um. I'm an idiot. And didn't realize that Google Form automatically turns short answers into a bar graph. So unfortunately, the results for this one is..well

And half of these are the exact same title with slightly different phrasing 🙃

BUT I'm nothing if not determined so I went through and organized everything though I didn't make a pie chart. Needless to say. I think we all know the favorite episode title (care to make a guess?)

Favorite episode title: But We'll Never Be Rid of Each Other (25%)

Its Wrath Shall Scald the Sun came second with only 9% of the vote. We sure do love our doomed siblings, huh?

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Let Us Teach You - Chapter Ten

Click Here For Story Masterlist

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Description:

"Okay daddy, I trust you" I say. "What will you show me?"

"We'll start with something small, is that okay doll?" I nod to him, wanting him to know I said yes. Steve smiles at me, taking a deep breath, he swallows hard before speaking again.

"Lie back on the bed doll"

(Bucky and Steve have a daughter, and they teach her about sex)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2,328

P.s... This fic is not for everyone, it has incest. That is not a thing everyone likes reading, so if you don't like reading stuff like that, this isn't the fic for you. I'm no condoning any of this, this isn't real life, this is fanfiction :)

In the morning, I woke to Steve and Bucky smiling at me, I giggled a little at the fact they were both just watching me. 

"Morning doll, sleep well?"

"I did, what do we have planned today?" I asked, hoping they would say lazy day, I think we had more lazy days than productive days. 

"We thought we'd have a lazy day doll, if that's alright with you?" Bucky smiled. I beamed, getting exactly what I wanted. 

"That's completely alright with me" I giggled, snuggling closer to Bucky. 

"Oh yeah? You sure doll...we're not too boring for you?" Steve teased, his fingers trailing up and down my arm. 

"Never" I reply "I would much rather spend my time with you than anyone else" Both Steve and Bucky smiled at me, Bucky's arms tightening around me. 

"We feel the exact same way doll, the moment we're away from you, all we do it count down the minutes until we see you again" Steve spoke, I giggled a little and tried wiggling away from Bucky. 

"You two are so squishy" I giggled. 

"Squishy huh? Did you just call us... Squishy?" Bucky speaks softly in my ear. 

"Yeah!"

"Well isn't that a nice way to speak to your daddies" Steve spoke in a pretend angry voice. I said nothing, but snuggling into Steve, Bucky followed my movements and snuggled us both. 

"You're lucky you're so damn cute doll" Bucky whispered.

"Do we need to prepare daddy?" I ask, my eyes looking right up into Steve's eyes. Steve looked at me a little confused at first. 

"Prepare for what doll?" He responded. 

"For when we have sex" I say quietly, my cheeks going red. 

Both chuckled a little, Steve smiled at me and moved his hand to hold my cheek. 

"We'll darling, I'll need to use my fingers down there, make sure you're all relaxed and comfortable" Steve explained, his thumb stroking my cheek. 

"Okay daddy" I smiled, happy to have my question answered, my stomach grumbled a little and I giggled. 

"Someone's hungry, I guess we better make you some breakfast" Bucky spoke, his lips tickling my ear. 

"Yes please" I say and we all crawl out of bed. 

"Why don't you shower whilst I make breakfast" Bucky smiled at me. 

"Okay" I say grinning, I looked over to Steve "Join me?"

"Of course doll, I'd love to" He smirked and followed me into the shower room. 

I undressed and stepped into the shower, feeling the water hit my body, Steve stepped in and began covering me in shower gel making sure I was al bubbly. I copied his actions and washed him, it felt relaxing, the two of us showering, washing each other. Once all cleaned, I got dressed for the day and made my way to the kitchen, Bucky had finished making breakfast, so we ate together, sitting quietly. 

"What would you like to do doll?" Bucky asked. 

"Maybe we can play some games?" I ask. 

"Sure doll, that sounds fun, we can do that" Steve smiled. 

"Let's set up the Nintendo Wii! And I can show you both how to play...again" I smirk. Both Steve and Bucky laughed a little, they were awful at video games, and I mean awful, it was hilarious to watch, and secretly I loved watching them be awful at games but still trying to be good. 

"That sounds perfect" Bucky grins. We finish up breakfast and Bucky and Steve go and sit on the couch, I set up the console and gave both Bucky and Steve a controller each, of course I showed them how to use the controllers, and that they had to point it at the sensor in order for it to work. 

"You're like our little gamer girl" Bucky smirks at me. 

"Well you didn't have video games in the 40s, someone had to teach you" I responded, giggling. 

We play for hours, most of the hours are them learning the games, but nonetheless it was fun, and I loved winning every game, or getting higher points for them, it was the only time I did win against them. They hated losing. We had a few food breaks, but mostly snacks, we were in the gaming zone. 

"Can I ask something?" I ask randomly during a game of Wii Resort. 

"Of doll, ask us anything" Steve smiled at me as I turned to him. 

"Will daddy watch us, when we have sex?" My cheeks felt red and warm.

Bucky suddenly pulled me into his arms holding me close. "Of course I will doll! You think I'd miss it?" 

"No" I giggled, wiggling in his arms. 

"I will be preparing you my sweet, and then daddy will show you sex" Bucky explained in my ear, he said it deep, his voice sounded low and husky in my ear. 

"Okay daddy... Can we do it now?" I asked, looking at Steve with my puppy dog eyes. 

"Of course we can, are you ready?" Steve asked, I nodded, and the three of us rushed to the bedroom, Steve crawled onto the bed, and watched Bucky and me. I started to take my clothes off, but Bucky stopped me. He slowly started taking my clothes off, kissing my skin as he went. Once I was naked Bucky lifted me to lay on the bed, he laid me next to Steve so I was pressed against his side. Our skin touching. 

"You sure you're ready doll?" Bucky asked me. 

"I promise daddy, I'm ready"

Bucky smiled at my answer and moved so he hovered over my body, he kissed me gently, his lips feeling soft and gentle against mine. His lips stayed on mine for a little while, taking things really slow. His lips left mine, kissing along my jaw and down my neck, he sucked my neck gently, leaving a mark. He kissed down my body, leaving little marks over my chest, his tongue played with both of my nipples until I was panting for more. He gently bit down on my nipple, his fingers finally threading through my wetness, I was soaked, I could hear how wet I was, I felt dirty but it wasn't a bad feeling. 

"How d'you feel doll?" Bucky asked, his tongue tracing circles around my nipple. 

"Really good daddy" I whimpered as two of his fingers pressed into my wet hole. I looked over at Steve, seeing him watch us, his hand was around his cock, I felt fuzzy inside when I saw it. 

"That's what we like to hear doll, you're doing so good" Steve reached down to whisper in my ear. I whimpered loudly, Bucky's fingers moved in and out, repeating their motions faster and faster.

"Feels so good" I pant loudly. 

"What's the plan doll, wanna make you feel oh so good" Bucky mumbled, his lips moving against my skin, his fingers slowed as he entered a third, I whined a little, it hurt the tiniest amount, but I could take it. He slowly moved his three fingers. 

"So full daddy" I gasped. He looked up from my chest, his eyes full of worry, he stopped moving his fingers. 

"No, don't stop daddy" I whined. Bucky chuckled, he moved up to kiss my lips. I spread my legs further apart, wanting more of what Bucky was giving. Bucky chuckled, his lips on my neck once more. 

"You like that doll?"

"How will you know when I'm ready?" I asked, my words stuttering. 

"I'm stretching you open baby, so daddy can put his cock inside you" Bucky whispered, his voice sounded so different from normal. 

"Will I hurt?" I whimpered, a little nervous. 

"Only for a short while darling" Bucky whispered, telling me the truth "We promise only for a little while" His fingers sped up. his hips were rubbing against my leg. 

"Okay, I trust you" I whisper. 

Bucky smiled at my words "You're such a good girl, you're doing so good" He whispered against my neck "Stevie I think she's ready"

Steve asked me again if I was sure, and I told him I was 100%, I was so ready. Steve looked over to Bucky and then back to me, his hand was touching his hardness. They moved around, Bucky moved to lay next to me, whilst Steve took his place hovering over me. He moved his hardness to line up with my hole.

"Hold Bucky's hand baby" Steve whispered. I listened to him reaching over to hold Bucky's hand, I shut my eyes and braced myself, I felt him poking at me, and slowly he pushed his hard cock into me, I gasped loudly, holding onto Bucky's hand tightly, my other hand reached up to hold Steve's arm, I held on tight. Steve pushed further into me, he groaned as he was now fully inside of me. I moaned loudly, feeling fuller than I had ever felt. My eyes were shut still, my head resting on Steve's shoulder, and pain and pleasure surged through me. 

"That's it baby, you're doing so good" Steve whispered. The pain soon stopped and slowly Steve started moving in and out, slowly and gently, I moaned loudly at his movements, this felt amazing. Steve's breath was heavy, his head rested by my ear, and he was moaning with each thrust. Bucky was watching me, making sure I was okay. 

"I'm so glad we doing this, it feels so amazing daddy" I moaned, I felt so stretched, his cock was so big, it was hitting so many amazing places, letting the feeling overcome my body. 

"We're glad too, you're doing so good" Steve groaned loudly in my ear. His movements were still slow, so slow, I wanted more. 

"Daddy, can you move faster?" I asked, my voice not sounding like my own. Steve nodded at my request, his lips finding my shoulder, kissing me, sucking marks, he moved his hips faster, thrusting into my quicker than I could imagine, I screamed loudly, holding onto his shoulder and Bucky's hand. Steve's hips backed away and then collided with mine again, each time harder, instinctively I moved my legs up, wrapping them around his waist, somehow allowing him to thrust into me deeper than before. 

"Daddy you're so good at this" I panted, my words coming out with loud moans. I moved my head to face Bucky, he obviously knew what I wanted and moved forward pressing his lips to mine, I kissed him until I moaned again, allowing him to explore my mouth with his tongue.

"I love you both" I whimper, moving my head away from Bucky's lips. 

"We love you baby" They both spoke at the same time. I moaned loudly, my head starting to feel dizzy.

"So close" I whimper, wrapping my legs tighter around Steve's waist. Steve's hips thrusted into my harder and faster, I screamed at the feeling as I cam hard, feeling my body shake as it hit me. I held onto Steve's arm and Bucky's hand hard, the only thing keeping me from blacking out at the feeling. 

"Oh daddy, that was wonderful" I whispered wistfully. 

"Good baby, I'm real close" Steve answered, his hips moving still. 

"Daddy!" I gasped "Where will you come?"

"Can I come inside of you?" Steve asked me, his head moving to stare into my eyes. I nodded, he moaned loudly and pressed his lips against mine, his hips rutted against me, his movements becoming irregular, he moaned loudly, his breath getting heavier until he let out a loud groan, his head fell to my shoulders and I felt his cock pulsate within me, a warm feeling following that. 

"That felt so good" I smiled, my legs rested back on the bed, feeling overused and shaky. 

"You did so good baby" Steve whispered to me, kissing my cheek. 

"I did?" I asked, looking at them both happily. 

"Yeah doll, we're so proud of you" Bucky responded. I looked down seeing Bucky had finished all over himself. 

"Sorry doll, couldn't help myself watching you both" Bucky grinned. 

"I'm glad you felt good too daddy" I whispered, leaning over to kiss his lips. Steve moaned as he pulled out of me, I suddenly felt empty, my hole clenched around nothing missing the feeling. 

"I want to run you a nice bath my darling" Steve smiled to me, his lips pressing to my forehead. 

"Okay daddy, I really enjoyed myself, thank you" I whispered to Steve. He smiled at me and left the room. 

"Would you join me daddy?" I asked Bucky, he nodded and helped me out of bed, my legs still felt shaky. I followed him into the bathroom, Bucky slipped into the water first and patted his chest, I smiled and climbed into the water and rested my back against his chest. 

"You feeling good doll?" He asked, his voice soft in my ear. I snuggled into his arms, feeling safe and warm. 

"Perfect daddy, I'm sorry you didn't get to have me first"

Bucky chuckled, his chest moving me in the water. 

"It's okay doll, I'll get my turn soon enough" He whispers. 

"Exactly!" I say, my eyes feeling heavy as I use the sponge to clean myself. Bucky grabbed the sponge and took over, he slowly washed my skin, his lips gently grazing across the skin of my neck.

"Mmm so relaxing" I sigh. 

"You like that sweetheart? Feeling relaxed?" 

"So relaxed, I may need to get out and go to bed" I giggled.

"You getting a little sleepy?" He asks. 

"Can you blame me?" I answer. 

We got out from the bath, and Bucky toweled me dry, I heard Steve in the shower as we left the room. Bucky and I crawled into the bed, and he pulled me in close. 

"Daddy?"

"Yes doll?"

"I feel sore down there, it that normal?" I ask, my eyes shutting as I laid with him. 

"Yeah doll, it's normal, it'll go away soon" He explains. 

"Okay daddy, goodnight"

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ortho Shroud - Playful Gear Vignette

"That's super rare and amazing"

[Playful Land – Stage]

Ortho: Heheh, I got to sing and dance with everyone from Night Raven College, as well as all the other guests…

Ortho: That was the best stage show ever. I'm super glad I got to come to Playful Land!

Ortho: Now then. Time for me to check out some more places.

Ortho: I was at the game corner with Vil's group earlier, so maybe I'll get on some rides in a different area.

Lilia: Well then, how about you join us, then?

Ortho: Oh, Lilia Vanrouge-san, and Trey Clover-san!

Ortho: Thanks for inviting me to go with you. Where are you two heading now?

Trey: We're heading to the Undersea Walk area. Apparently, they make it look like you're actually at the bottom of the ocean there.

Trey: Really makes you feel like we're in a theme park, huh. Just walking through that will probably be fun.

Lilia: And of course, we're gonna find stuff to ride, as well. The one I'm looking forward to ride is the 'Whirl Bottle"!

Ortho: "Whirl Bottle"… That's one of those trackless rides. According to the park guide map…

Ortho: "This is a thrilling attraction where carriages shaped like glass bottles spin around on a revolving floor."

Ortho: "Once you climb on board, all that's left to do is to leave your fate to the ocean's tides! Careful not to become too dizzy."

Lilia: Yup. Doesn't it sound like a swell old time?

Trey: So basically, it's a teacup ride.

Trey: Back home… At the amusement park in the Queendom of Roses, just like the name says, the ride is with teacups.

Ortho: I bet that's 'cause the people in the Queendom drink tea basically every day. It's fascinating to see the differences just based on the region.

Ortho: Since the Playful Land's attractions are all based on the Wish Upon a Star story…

Ortho: Whirl Bottle must be modeled after the scene where the Wooden Puppet's teacher braved the stormy seas by using a bottle as his ship, right?

Trey: Aah… That makes sense. Now that you say it that way, I can see it now.

Lilia: I can't wait to see it in person. So let's hurry and get on to check it out ourselves!

Ortho: YEAH!

[Playful Land – Bazaar]

Lilia: ALRIGHT YOU SCALLYWAGS, TURN THE WHEEL, TURN THE WHEEL～～～

Ortho: AYE AYE SIR!! LET'S GOOO～～～!!

Trey: Both of you don't go so hard…! Urgh, I'm starting to get dizzy…

Trey: …That was a much harder ride than I was expecting. My head is still going in circles.

Ortho: Trey-san, are you alright? Did you get motion sickness from all of our spinning?

Lilia: I'm perfectly alright, but… Guess I just trained my inner ear better.

Lilia: Here ya go, I brought you water. You should take a rest on that bench yonder.

Trey: Thanks, Lilia. Once I feel a bit better, I'll go see how Ace's group is getting on and take a stroll around the park a little.

Trey: So you two go on ahead and have some fun. Go and enjoy Playful Land.

Ortho: Oh… Alright. Then we'll head on out.

Trey: Yeah, go on. Take care, have fun.

Lilia/Ortho: Yeh! / Okay!

Ortho: Trey-san said he'd be alright so we just left him there, but… Was that really okay?

Lilia: Kufufu, no need to worry about him. He said it himself, didn't he? It was just a slight bit of motion sickness.

Lilia: He's the Vice Housewarden of Heartslabyul. There's no way he's that weak of a person.

Ortho: I don't think being the Vice Housewarden of Heartslabyul really matters… But I do agree that he's not weak.

Ortho: But that ride just now…

Ortho: …Honestly, it wasn't too wild, right?

Lilia: RIGHT!? I was just thinking that it wasn't thrilling enough.

Lilia: Just as you surmised, the Whirl Bottle ride was based on the scene of the Wooden Puppet's teacher floating on the stormy seas.

Lilia: So don't you think that they should have had water splashing us, or a giant seagull attacking us during the ride?

Ortho: Absolutely! And instead of just spinning around and around, I would have loved being shaken all up and down, left and right too.

Lilia: Mhm. That would've been a great idea. There's not many rides out there that can give you the feeling of roughing it in a storm.

Ortho: But if we want to implement more random movements, we'd have to completely redesign the attraction's structure…

Ortho: Ah, but if we just adjust the program, maybe the movement and spinning could become even more random.

Ortho: It would be much more exciting to not be able to predict which way it'll move next, don't you think?

Lilia: Mhm. That's because it's just as thrilling whenever you face a foe that doesn't showcase their next move, after all.

Lilia: ...AH! ORTHO, CHECK THAT OUT!

Ortho: EH!?

[Playful Land – Bazaar]

Lilia: ...AH! ORTHO, CHECK THAT OUT!

Ortho: EH!?

Ortho: THAT!? …WAIT, WHAT THING!?

Lilia: When I say that, I of course, mean that. The ever exciting…

Lilia: GIFT SHOP!!!

Ortho: A gift shop…? Ah, I see it. They have a lot of character merchandise and sweets on display.

Ortho: It's probably a little too early to even think about going home yet… But are you thinking of looking at souvenirs already?

Lilia: Mhm. So actually, last night I tried to invite Silver and Sebek here too, but…

Lilia: Neither of them had the slightest interest in skipping school.

Lilia: Malleus had gone off somewhere on his own again, so I couldn’t find him. I wasn't able to invite him at all.

Lilia: That's why I thought I'd at least bring home some souvenirs from Playful Land for them.

Ortho: I'm sure if you got them special Playful Land merch, it'll be just like they came here with you.

Ortho: In general, the souvenir shops get crowded near closing time, so…

Ortho: The risk of the item you wanted selling out, or rushing and forgetting to buy something you wanted may increase.

Ortho: I've decided! I'll shop for souvenirs with you, Lilia-san.

Lilia: Good. Then, let's go on a little treasure hunt!

Ortho: They have chocolate crunch, cookies, and candy… They have the whole array of standard theme park fare.

Lilia: These are marshmallows, hm. I'm not really a fan, but the package is so cute that I'm seriously considering it.

Ortho: Ah! This pasta snack is made into the shapes of the Friendly Fox and Gentle Cat.

Ortho: This looks easy to eat even while gaming… I think I'll get this for my brother.

Fellow: Well, well, what a discerning eye you have, young scholar! That pasta snack is the third most popular gift here.

Gidel: … [nods]

Ortho: Fellow-san, and Gidel-san! You surprised me showing up out of the blue.

Lilia: It's usually my forte to catch others unawares, but… Looks like you've won this time.

Ortho: You said the pasta snack is the third most popular, right? So then…

Ortho: The assortment tin that had plain cookies in the shape of the Friendly Fox and cocoa cookies in the shape of the Gentle Cat must be the second popular!

Ortho: And the chocolate crunch with 12 different kinds of little charms randomly thrown in must be the first popular!

Ortho: …Is my calculated prediction, how did I do?

Fellow: Amazing deduction, young scholar, what keen insight! However… Mmm～ You're just a little off!

Fellow: You're correct about the second popular. However, the first popular is something else entirely…

Ortho: Ehhh～ I was wrong? I chose those based on the rankings of other theme parks in general, though.

Lilia: Kufufu… How naïve of you, Ortho. I knew at a single glance, you know.

Ortho: Eh, really?

Lilia: Mhm. The number one popular souvenir for Playful Land is…

Lilia: WITHOUT QUESTION, THE WHALE FIGURINE!!

Ortho: EEH!?

Lilia: Those raging waves, the violent sprays of water, and the lone figure of the fiercesome whale that opens its mouth widely to swallow everything it can!

Lilia: I'm surprised an amusement park has something of this quality. Isn't this more of a work of art?

Ortho: Hmmm… I do think it's really well made, but… Isn't think too big to even fit in one of the park's lockers?

Ortho: It looks heavy, too, and I don't think it'd be a great souvenir to want to haul home after a long and tiring day at the park.

Ortho: Besides, the scene depicted here is one of the scariest scenes in the Wish Upon a Star story.

Ortho: I can't expect this to be anywhere close to the top of the popularity rankings.

Fellow: Well now, how astounding that this figure caught your eye. You certainly know your stuff!

Fellow: This figure was made as a souvenir for those who have ridden the Expedition Whale ride.

Fellow: The whale's teeth, the waves, and the spray of the water… Everything is so meticulously added down to the smallest detail!

Lilia: As I thought. Come now, Fellow, tell us. Where on the popularity scale does this figure fall!?

Fellow: The rank of this figurine is…

Lilia/Ortho: Is…?

Fellow: Dead last.

Gidel: …

Lilia: DEAD LAST…!?

Fellow: Indeed. Rather, ever since this park opened, never has a guest actually chosen to buy this item.

Fellow: Ortho-kun hit on every possible reason. It's heavy, unwieldly, and above all, terrifying!

Fellow: It seems our pursuit of quality was our downfall. Ahh, how disastrous!

Ortho: That's what I thought… So then, what's the number one popular item?

[Playful Land – Bazaar]

Fellow: Playful Land's number one popular souvenir is… The "apple core" flavored candy.

Ortho: Apple core flavored candy! You mentioned those to us earlier.

Lilia: An apple core flavor is rather unusual. I wonder if it has its own specific tang.

Ortho: Vil-san said that the apple core flavored popcorn just tasted like regular apples…

Ortho: But if you're interested, we can go to Candy Road after this.

Lilia: Mhm. But first, I have to find proper souvenirs to bring home here.

Lilia: Oho, here's a hat that looks like the head of the Friendly Fox! And they have one of the Gentle Cat as well. I need to get both.

Lilia: I'll give these to Silver and Sebek, and for Malleus… I think the goldfish hat would be cute.

Lilia: Oh but wait, would he even be able to wear this with his horns…?

Fellow: Come now, Ortho-kun, you should also pick out something you want. Please take as much as you want home.

Ortho: Thank you! Although, both my carrying capacity and the space available in my room is limited, so I'll have to be more selective in my choices.

Ortho: My brother doesn't really tend to use stationary… Ah, but these might be good!

Fellow: This? Ah, our postcards. They're light, thin, and easy to carry around, so it's perfect.

Ortho: There's a ton of different designs, and there's even some that have a pop-up. I bet my brother would love something like this.

Ortho: It says here that we can drop them off in the mailbox in Gentle Square, but…

Ortho: If I write the address and drop it in the mailbox, will it really reach Night Raven College?

Fellow: Why, yes. It should reach your school in a few days. In addition, it'll come with a special stamp.

Ortho: A special Playful Land stamp! That's super rare and amazing.

Ortho: It'll be a nice little surprise for it to show up in a few days… I think I'll send a postcard to my brother.

Fellow: You sure are rather thoughtful towards your brother, Ortho-kun. Now, what sort of card design are you thinking to choose?

Ortho: There's so many good scenes in Wish Upon a Star, it's hard to decide.

Ortho: This one shows when the Wooden Puppet met the Friendly Fox and the Gentle Cat. Heheh, they're all smiles.

Ortho: It's always great to make new friends. But I think my brother would be more scared that bright and cheerful strangers are coming up to talk to him…

Ortho: This scene of the Old Toymaker and the Wooden Puppet dancing looks really fun too…

Ortho: The card with the scene where they're searching for a whale at the bottom of the ocean is really interesting with these little moving fish and shells.

Ortho: And this hologrammed card is… The scene of the miracle of when the Wooden Puppet became a real boy.

Ortho: Hrrrrm… There's so many that it's hard to choose, but…

Ortho: If I have to pick one to send to my brother, then it has to be this one!

Fellow: Have you made your decision? If so, then please, use our counter available for you in the back to write your message.

Ortho: Thank you! I picked out the card, alright, but now what about the message?

Ortho: If I write about how I had fun hanging with Vil-san and Lilia-san, that may go into too much detail and may hamper his ability to read everything.

Fellow: Oh my, is there that much you wish to write about? I'm so honored that you have enjoyed Playful Land so dearly.

Fellow: Sure hope your postcard actually arrives where you need it to safely～

Gidel: … [nods with smirk]

Ortho: Yeah! …Oh right, I'll write down about the Playful Stage performance.

Ortho: With all that singing and dancing… I had such a great time!

[Ignihyde Dorm - Idia's Room]

Ortho: Nii-saaan, you have a package. It's that thing you mail ordered, and… Ah, this is…

Ortho: As I thought! It's the post card I sent out from Playful Land!

Ortho: All of my souvenirs were left with the amusement park, so I had completely given up hope that this card would ever show up…

Ortho: What a surprise that it actually arrived here safely!

Ortho: I wonder if Fellow-san sent it for me? That must mean they made it safely to some other town.

Ortho: …That was really an ordeal, but I guess it still made for a good memory.

Ortho: I sure hope my brother likes the postcard I chose.

Ortho: Similar to how the Wooden Puppet and the Old Toymaker used their wisdom and courage to escape the belly of the whale like in this postcard art...

Ortho: As long as me and my brother join forces, we can take on quests of any difficulty.

Ortho: That's why next time, I really hope we'll be able to go to an amusement park together!

[peachy-panic]

The After Party

BBU Hollywood: Chapter 2

I guess this is a whole story now??? We'll see :)

Takes place after THIS.

WARNINGS: BBU, NONCON DRUGGING (LOTS OF IT), bad tripping, mentions of noncon, religious imagery and trauma, rich assholes and the hollywood elite

The tint on the windows doesn’t do enough to block the camera flashes as the limousine descends into the waiting crowd. Henry squints, turning his gaze forward and away. Beside him, Paul is on his phone, which is a mercy. His preoccupation means Henry can take these last few seconds to collect himself before the start of a very long night—as long as he is able to drown out the absent circles being traced on his upper thigh. Henry is so tired he thinks he might be able to drown out anything. If he only let his eyes close for a second or two, he thinks he might drift enough to—

A pinch on his leg—not hard, but firm enough to get his attention—pulls him back from the edge. Paul ends his phone call without a proper sign-off and shoves his phone into his pocket. Henry watches him carefully, assessing his mood. If the phone call was a bad one, it wouldn’t bode well for the rest of the night. But Paul seems to shrug it off easily as he produces a small, glass vial from inside his jacket. 

Henry grinds his back teeth but forces his expression to remain neutral. 

“Look alive, superstar,” Paul says, sprinkling a line of white powder across the side of his finger. “A lot of eyes on you tonight.”

Henry knows the routine, so he doesn’t hesitate when a finger is placed under his nose. He may even be grateful for it later, before the crash, when the dim lights inside the theater want to make his eyelids droop. For now the familiar sting in his sinuses elicits a few watery blinks. 

“Good boy.” Paul rubs a thumb gently under his eye to wipe away a bead of moisture before it can smudge the bright concealer keeping his dark circles out of sight. Henry lets himself be pulled into a kiss, closing his eyes on cue. It could almost be a comforting gesture of affection, if he lets himself believe it. “You did well today. You’ll do well tonight.”

It is not encouragement, but a command. Henry knows this but as he leans a cheek into the large palm that cradles it, he decides to let himself take small comforts where he can. Pretending, after all, is what Henry does best.

“You’re due for a reward. Maybe next weekend, we can take a trip. Just you and me, huh?” Paul says, smiling. “How does that sound?”

Henry fights to keep his expression in check, even as his stomach roils. Flashes of memory assault in a steady stream: the sticky sweetness of pineapple juice sucked from Paul’s fingers, a pill on his tongue (and another and another), the smell of chlorine and saltwater on Paul’s skin. 

“I’d like that,” Henry says.

His smile—the one that he spent months practicing and polishing and perfecting under the harsh fluorescent lights of the training facility—is plastered on for several seconds before the door swings open, exposing him to the awaiting crowd. 

The roar of sound and light and energy used to send his heart skittering. Now, he lets it wash over him as he steps one leg out of the car, then the other, raising a hand into a robotic wave, and he tell himself this is good. The screaming of the crowd is what he wants, what he needs, because Henry has been made for their adoration, and without it, he is nothing. Their attention is what makes him valuable. It’s what keeps him alive. 

Paul places a hand at the small of his back as he steps out beside him, and Henry’s shoulders roll instinctively at the touch. Shoulders back. Chin lifted. Smile bright. He knows this dance too well to let something like exhaustion make him miss a step. 

“Henry!” A faceless voice cries out from the crowd of photographers. “Give us a smile!”

His beaming smile turns toward the voice like a sunflower growing toward the light. The mechanical movement of his head on his shoulders makes him feel like one of the animatronic figures he was frightened of as a child, hiding his face against his mother’s chest at an amusement park he doesn’t remember the name of. A lifeless imitation of a real human being, uncanny in resemblance but with none of the light behind the eyes. What makes Henry so different from that, really?

***

By the time the film screening is over, and they step out of the theater and into the afterparty ballroom, Henry’s eyes burn with fatigue. The comedown snuck up on him well before the credits rolled, and it was all Henry could do to keep himself awake and aware, pinching his legs in the discrete darkness of the theater. He knows that Paul will pull him aside soon, into some corner booth or a bathroom stall, and give him another bump to get Henry through the rest of the event. He will need it, and at this moment, he craves it. 

Evening has long faded behind them, but the night is just getting started. 

After the second bump, the world moves by him too quickly. The party becomes little more than flashes of light and color, impressions of touch on his back, his arms, his neck, his face. Henry recognizes some of the faces; the usual parade of executives and A-listers that either greet him with hungry fascination or outright indifference. (He might prefer the latter if the fear of falling out of favor of someone’s attention hadn’t been so thoroughly trained into him). 

Eliza Darling is there, of course, dressed to the nines in an elegant red gown and long, black gloves, but she regards her co-star as little more than a prop, a breathing mannequin, as they are pushed together for photo after photo after photo. 

Once the press has gotten their fill, the cameras and media badges begin to filter out of the crowd. That’s always the first sign that the shift is coming. The night will become something different soon. Eliza leaves, too, hung on the arm of this week’s PR arm-candy, not before exchanging tipsy kisses on the cheek with Paul, and one for Henry as well. Just in case any cameras are still lurking nearby. 

It’s not long after that Henry is ushered into the backseat of a limousine. Paul is there, pressed against his side, but there are others as well. The other Hollywood high-rollers—studio executives, the upper echelon of producers on their payroll—and, of course, their contracted Companion stars at their sides, like ornately decorated shadows. Henry recognizes the others. It isn’t yet common practice to employ Companion labor in film and television, and some studios forbid it outright. Maxwell Entertainment has taken no such stance. 

Still, there are only a few of them in the business, and Henry knows each of them with some degree of intimate familiarity. 

Across from Henry and Paul sits Geoffrey Bellmonte, a sitting board member of Maxwell Entertainment, and nuzzled into his neck is a young man Henry knows as Aspen. Henry tilts his head to Paul's shoulder the way he knows he likes and tries to avoid both sets of eyes. 

It’s not often that Henry is made to perform with Aspen—at least not nearly as often as he is with some of the other favored Companions in the Inner Circle—and for this, he is grateful. They still spend plenty of time together in close quarters at events and afterparties like this one, and at each one Henry tries his best to fly under Aspen’s radar. 

He is a lithe, fox-faced beauty, all pointed features and long limbs. Henry knows that some of his features are the product of a customized plastic surgery plan, implemented before his final contract was ever signed, same as all of them, but there is an undeniable natural beauty underneath. The only thing sharper than his cheekbones is his whip-smart tongue. He gets away with more than most in his position. His cutting remarks and cold condescension—often aimed at Henry—are generally met with a level of endeared amusement from the Keepers. 

Several years ago, Aspen was the first contracted Companion to star in a major studio film. His contract used to belong to Paul himself, but everyone knows that Mr. Maxwell prefers to keep fresh talent cycling in. Nobody gets to stay under him for more than a few years if they’re lucky, but if they prove to be a fan favorite onscreen and an equally favored asset behind the scenes, their contract stays within the Inner Circle a little longer. 

It’s a widely known but unspoken truth that Aspen, growing closer to 30 with each passing day, is nearing the end of his welcome. 

After, when they are alone, Paul sometimes attempts to assuage Henry’s hurt feelings with silken promises that Aspen is only cruel to him because he’s jealous. Of Henry’s youth, of his beauty, of his time in the limelight. He sees in you an image of himself that he can never recreate, he tells him, as if someone else’s misery could somehow make Henry feel better. 

They arrive at Paul’s house in the hills a little after 2 a.m., where the exclusive after-after-party has already begun to trickle in. There will only be about thirty to forty people in attendance this time, and much of that crowd will end up dispersing into groups of two or three or more into guest bedrooms and balconies and hot tubs. 

Henry doesn’t know which he will end up in, and it does him no good to try and predict how the night will go ahead of time. 

***

Every light in The Hills House is programmed to change color at the click of a remote. Tonight, every inch is bathed in blood red. 

It’s exactly the kind of dramatic flair Paul Maxwell is known for, in his life and in his work. Henry thinks the red light and shadows make the house look like a nightmare in his memories. 

Still beaded in sweat from the brief three-way exchange he was pulled into on the living room floor, Henry sprawls among a tangle of bodies on the couch. One thigh is hooked over Paul’s lap, while his back leans against the broad chest of an older man he only ever sees at these kinds of parties. Fingers—he isn’t entirely sure whose—card through his damp hair, over and over. Is it pool water or sweat making the strands plaster to his head? He doesn’t remember, but he leans into the soft repetition, letting his eyes drift shut. 

How long has it been since he slept?

Call time was at six this morning—yesterday?—so that means transpo would have been outside to pick him up by five-thirty, and Henry would have had his alarm set by…

“Looks like someone is tapping out early.” Henry peels his eyes open at the saccharine voice, dripping with condescension. His tilted vision converges to form the smiling face of Aspen, who is draped over Geoffrey’s lap in the chaise across from him. “What’s wrong, Henry? Didn’t get enough beauty sleep?”

Paul’s hand lands heavily on his thigh, and the man pressed against his back rumbles with soft laughter. Geoffrey chuckles into the side of Aspen’s neck. The young man tilts his head to the side with practiced ease, opening himself to the affection, but his sharp eyes hold Henry’s the whole time. 

“Sorry,” Henry mutters, mostly for Paul’s benefit. The apology is met with a sharp squeeze, which Henry can interpret as either acknowledgement or warning. He will find out for sure later. 

“Looks like your boy could use another taste, Paulie,” the man under Henry says, the words vibrating through his upper body. 

“You offering?” 

Henry is jostled as the man reaches into his pocket for something just out of his line of sight. Whatever he holds up makes Paul’s eyes light with amusement. 

“How does he do with Lucy?”

Paul reaches over to scratch Henry’s belly, which makes him feel like a pet. “I think that’s a new one for you, sweetheart. Yeah?”

Henry doesn’t know what “Lucy” is, but almost all of his experience with drugs has been in Paul’s presence, so that must be true. He swallows, forcing himself to nod.

Paul’s eyes cut over his head, meeting Sal with a nod. “Go on, then.”

A hand from behind him taps twice on his cheek. “Open up,” he says. Henry obeys, and immediately a small tab that feels like paper is placed on his tongue. “Don’t swallow it. Just let it sit.”

Henry nods again, trying to hide his reaction to the bitter, sharp tang. 

The effect isn’t instantaneous, like it is with the bumps he takes off of Pauls’ fingers. For a long while, Henry lays there with his head on Sal’s lap, staring at the ceiling as the party moves around him. At some point, hands begin to wander again, sliding over his chest, stomach, legs, face, neck. 

Across from him, Geoffrey pulls Aspen into a deep, consuming kiss, but when Henry looks that way, he catches Aspen stealing glances at him. This time, it seems the usual coldness in his expression has been washed out by something he can’t quite identify.

***

Henry wakes up in hell.

It’s not the first time he’s had that thought upon waking, but it’s the first time it’s been true in such a literal sense. 

This is the hell from the Bible, the hell from his childhood, all fire and brimstone gnashing of teeth, and Henry has woken here, consumed by the flames. 

His limbs shoot out in every direction, flailing—or at least he means to? Is his body moving? There is something wrapped around him, suffocating him. Long cascading limbs. No, they’re tentacles. And he’s… He’s so hot. They’re killing him. He has to get free, free, free, free—

The flames stick to his skin like hot wax as he lands on the ground, soft and scratchy under his hands and knees. He crawls forward, desperate to escape the heat. He doesn’t know where he is and the ground gives beneath the weight of his palms, shifting between sand and concrete and carpet. 

Some part of him he doesn’t quite have access to knows there is water, and knows (hopes?) he is heading toward it. It is this thought alone that drags him forward, down winding tunnel-like hallways. Water. Water. 

Water. 

Water. 

Water. 

Light floods his vision. Henry spins around, thinking he’s been caught (by who? Who is he running from?), but he sees his own hand resting on a lightswitch. And then, much to his horror, he watches his fingers melt down the wall like candle wax. That can’t be good. Can it?

He doesn’t care, though, because then there is water! Water! He found it! It runs cold and beautiful over his hands, and then his arms, and then Henry is rubbing it all over his body, splashing it into his hair, on his face. He has never felt happier than at this moment. 

“Shit,” someone says behind him, and Henry watches as the word spells out in front of him in big, white, puffy letters. S H I T. He reaches for them and they dissipate like clouds of smoke. 

“Shit,” Henry whispers. It echoes through the cave behind the waterfall. “I found a waterfall,” he remembers to tell the person standing behind him. He feels it’s important to tell him this. Who is that anyway? Should he know him? “Do you want some water?”

But then the water stops, and Henry is so sad. 

“It’s all over the floor,” The Voice says again. 

Henry looks down at that, and the floor around his feet is squirming with neon-pink, rice-sized worms. They wriggle under his toes, some of them crawling up his ankles, cold and wet and slimy.

Henry begins to cry. 

“Shhhh. Henry, shh.” The shhhhhhhhh moves through the cave like wind, Henry can feel it blowing through his hair. He can’t stop crying. “Henry, listen to me. Look at me, please. You need to be quiet.”

Cold blocks of ice touch his cheeks, Henry leans into the touch but they melt quickly into the warmth of skin. Hands. Somebody’s hands. 

He follows the movement as the hands turn his head, and in front of him stands a tall, skinny man with a fox face. The fox is talking to him. Henry’s eyes are wide, but he can feel the tears burning his face like raining fire, and then he remembers he’s in hell. He lets out a wail. 

The fox says “shit” again. The words don’t appear this time. The bathroom door slams shut. When did they leave the cave?

“Henry, you’re okay. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?”

He listens, picturing his lungs like big, fat balloons inside his body, inflating his chest to twice its size with each breath. The air feels good. 

“Can I have my water back?” Henry asks the fox man. 

“You’re currently covered in it. Maybe let’s try inside the shower this time.”

The shower sounds nice. Put me in the shower, please. Thank you. You have to remember your manners, Handler Rex said. Please and thank you, ma’am and sir, you have to remember your place. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just close your eyes and feel the water for a minute. Try to keep breathing.”

The waterfall is back and he is standing directly beneath the stream. It’s nice. 

***

Henry opens his eyes and he’s on the bathroom floor. Aspen sits in front of him in nothing more than a pair of light-blue boxer briefs. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” Henry says. “You’re always mean to me.”

He can’t tell what face Aspen makes at that, because colors start to smear together, dripping like an ice cream cone on a hot day. 

“Maybe your skin is too thin.”

Henry looks down at his arms, turning them over and over. He can see the blood and bones and muscle and sinew beneath the paleness. Shit. Maybe he’s right. 

“Not your actual skin, numbskull. Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus Christ,” Henry echoes in a whisper. He doesn’t think he’s in hell anymore, so that name is probably okay to say here.

“The good news is you probably won’t remember most of this in the morning.”

“You looked like a fox.”

Aspen raises an eyebrow, and it keeps going higher and higher until it disappears into his hairline. Henry blinks and it’s back to normal. 

“A fox, huh? Are you hitting on me now?”

Henry pinches his face together. “No?”

“I know, Henry.”

“Okay. Why are you mean to me, Aspen?”

“Oh god. I’m way too sober for this.”

“Aspen?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Okay.”

“You’re really fucked up, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m really fucked up.”

“Look, I… I’m sorry, okay? About this. I didn’t mean to prompt that asshole to drug you. If anything, I thought he would just give you another bump to get you through the last couple hours. I didn’t… I knew Paul would get mad if you started snoring on Sal’s lap in the middle of the party.”

There’s too many words. The white, bubble letters try to spell them out, but they start popping like balloons before they can finish a sentence. Henry stares after them, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 

“I don’t really know what you’re saying,” Henry tells him honestly.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I can say it.”

“Am I going to feel like this forever?” He thinks he might cry again if that’s true. 

“No, Henry.”

H E N R Y. The bubble letters don’t pop this time. They float up and up and up until they disappear into the sky. He doesn’t think that’s his name, but he’s talking so nice and gentle to him, so he doesn’t bother correcting him. 

“It will be over soon. Just close your eyes. I’ll stay right here.”

*****

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