#instead of ignoring polyamory as an option there's a whole other reason to have to choose | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ohheyitsokay · 3 years ago

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trials

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending

summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you

it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story

note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain

Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.

This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.

It was a lie.

They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.

Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.

He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.

You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.

He deserves more than sharing.

Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.

Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.

Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.

It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.

“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”

Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.

Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.

It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.

Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.

She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.

Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.

He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.

She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.

And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.

It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.

She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.

Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.

“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.

“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.

“Cant you see it’s for the better?”

There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.

“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.

“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.

You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.

On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.

Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.

When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.

He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.

“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.

“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.

“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.

Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.

“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”

You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.

It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.

Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.

He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.

Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”

And he says “I love you.”

He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.

They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.

It takes time, and work.

He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.

He works on that, too.

Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.

It was easier than winning Will back.

“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?

“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”

“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”

It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.

And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.

It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.

Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”

Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.

“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”

Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.

“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”

“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”

His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.

“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”

“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.

“He loves us.” Another kiss.

“You.”

It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.

“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.

When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.

But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.

You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.

The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.

For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.

The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.

Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”

His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue.

“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option.

The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.

Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them.

“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.

"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.

"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"

The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.

"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."

"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.

"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

poly frontier taglist:

@grogusmum

#triple frontier #poly frontier #triple frontier poly fic #triple frontier x reader #will miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #francisco morales x reader #benny miller x reader

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themockingcrows · 5 years ago

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Cult of the Tainted Rose

This fic is Not Safe For Work As Hell

cw: vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex, anal sex, sex pollen, polyamory, Beta ot4, dubious consent, strap ons, pegging, vaginal sex

THIS FIC IS AVAILABLE ON MY AO3!

When Jade and Rose decide to combine a scientifically engineered rose specimen with the best of black magics to see what would happen, they wind up with more than they bargained for.

“You don’t need to be gentle with it, this isn’t something that’s going to fall apart if you touch it! Promise!” Jade said with a hearty smile as Rose investigated the flower in front of her.

It was gorgeous really, a supple white rose with subtle blue blush to it, deeper near the stem and softest at the tip. The thorns looked razor sharp and the petals soft as clouds, so Rose still hesitated before she reached out to stroke them. They were solid under her fingers, but just as soft as she’d imagined, leaving her to sigh gratefully when the petals didn’t break off into her hand like she feared they would somehow.

“See? Told ya,” Jade said proudly, dusting soil off her hands and onto the edges of her jeans before she remembered the smock and rubbed there instead. “It’s my best specimen yet! I’m gonna crossbreed it with a lot of others soon to see what it can bring to the gene pool as far as resilience goes. So far not even bugs have been an issue!”

“...And that’s why you wanted to run the experiment on this one,” Rose concluded as she poked the tip of a thorn cautiously, sucking on her finger right afterwards when it inevitably stung a droplet of blood from her.

“Precisely. This is the best science can make so far,” Jade said, coming closer to the pot to stroke the flower like a pet, smile fond. “I wanted to see what the best magic can make with that.”

“I’d hardly say mine is the best magic, especially compared to others,” Rose said with a smirk. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

Jade leaned over and kissed Rose on the lips, transplanting some of her dark lipstick onto her own mouth before she pulled back. “You’d better take that compliment! Who else would I trust with one of my precious plants?”

“I’m not responsible if this goes south and kills this sample,” Rose said with pursed lips as she thought. “It’s possible that the spell could sap everything out of it to fuel itself. ...You do have a spare right?”

“Of course, I’ve got other samples from it, and I’ve already got more seedlings going in the trays,” Jade said, rubbing her mouth finally when she realized the texture felt different. Ignoring the dark smudge on her arm she gestured to the rest of the greenhouse. “We’re going to be doing this indoors, not out here, by the way. I don’t want the other babies to be affected if something goes wrong.”

“Of course, of course,” Rose said, already going over in her mind what might work. Letting the magic do as it wished seemed to be the best option… though, with dark magics, that could be a bit risky to say the least. “And you just want to see what will happen anyway. There’s no set goal?”

“Precisely. I just want to see what happens with the best science rose meets Rose’s magic! It’s like a rose squared in a way, just a lot cooler,” she said, smirking at her own joke when Rose herself rolled her eyes. Apparently John wasn’t the only one with a propensity for shitty jokes in that family tree, how could she keep forgetting.

“Alright then. I think I know how to get this show on the road, shall we head inside?”

Jade whooped excitedly before plucking up the carefully tended pot and leading the way out of the greenhouse and into the house. The living room seemed to be the best place for this to take place, being the larger room, and should anything go wrong the wooden floors would be fairly easy to clean. Hopefully. Dark magic was a bit hard to plan around sometimes, she just hoped it wasn’t an inky explosion of some kind, unless Jade was secretly hankering for black flooring all at once.

The flower was placed front and center with prominence on the coffee table, but its proximity to the many other flowering plants in the living room gave Rose pause as she fished her wands out from her bag. “Remember that whole ‘what if the plant gets killed’ thing? What do I do if it goes after these instead?”

“These can be replaced, even if I’d be a little sad,” Jade said. “They’re mostly garden variety things, the harder to replace things are in the greenhouse already. If these wither.. Well. It’ll free up pots for some NEW plants! It’s a win/win!”

Rose shook her head but smiled fondly. This was just one of the reasons they all loved Jade so much. She was the only one of them that could keep things growing and alive, the one who could revive plants from the garbage and make them into prize winners in mere months. Her spice garden was unrivaled, and even her mint was carefully controlled. Everything she touched seemed to turn green and colorful with lush blossoms in no time at all… it was quite the power to witness over time, and it was hard to tell if it was the science, the natural green thumb, or the way she gave daily concerts and readings to all of the plants in her care that made them grow so well.

Had to be the love.

With her wands ready, Rose took a few steps back and pondered her target once more, trying to clear her thoughts to commune properly. What would the Old Ones do with a plant… It was kind of a thrilling prospect, the more she considered it. “You might want to step back,” Rose warned, “I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen. I’m going to just lash out at it and see what comes.”

“Waaaay ahead of you,” Jade said, popping up from behind the sofa to give a thumbs up before ducking back down.

Wetting her lips, Rose turned and grasped her wands more firmly before closing her eyes and breathing slowly in and out, clearing her mind. Listening… listening for the whispers of the old tongues she’d listened to so closely before for answers and guidance. They came to her eventually, cold and dark but comforting, soothing, a hand stroking down her back like a cat being pet as she returned to something that felt like home.

The stroking didn’t stop there, though. Her mind wandered a bit, the sensitive patting feeling akin to touching the rose earlier. Thoughts intertwined and flickered before she could control it, yonic imagery of the flower overlapping with herself. Rose squared. Someone touching her as she’d touched the rose, touching her sensitive petals, petals that wouldn’t break if you got a little rough. The hand down her back felt like it flitted between her legs when she finally opened her eyes and cast the magic that had accumulated.

Was it too soon? Too late? Hard to tell, but it felt good to cast this spell. Better than she’d anticipated it would feel to cast after so long of not just letting the magic do as it pleased. She felt powerful in ways she didn’t normally think possible, dangerous, beautiful beyond compare… and when she came to her senses, that all seemed to have been passed on to the flower. It’s soft blue hue looked electric now, stimulated and further bloomed than it had been before, larger. It glowed softly, as if a black light were shining over it from somewhere out of view, ghostly and unnatural yet sumptuously appealing. She wanted to touch it again, to stroke it, to see if it was still as soft as before. Without a second thought, Rose transferred her right hand’s wand to her left and reached the then empty hand out to stroke the petals ever so gently.

The flower erupted with a soft puff of barely visible pollen the second she touched it, rising high into the air and spreading with the soothing scent of roses and fresh water. Jade popped up from behind the sofa not a moment later, wanting to see what had happened after the flash of light she’d seen go off like a flashbulb so close by.

“Rose? Did it work? What’s… oh wow,” she said softly, jumping over the back of the sofa to come get a close look, adjusting her glasses. The smell of roses and fresh water was intense, but not unpleasant. It was like a perfume applied to perfectly washed skin, all encompassing and welcoming to partake of. “I’m going to need to take some samples to look at this under the microscope. Magic under a microscope! Can you imagine?” she said excitedly, looking upt to Rose to see her reaction.

The reaction she caught was Rose lurching towards her to kiss her full on the mouth as if she were starved for it. Jade squeaked, startled, and it was just enough for Rose’s tongue to part her lips and gouge deep. Their breaths both grew ragged within moments, as one thing became abundantly clear: standing still was not an option. Permeated with the scent of roses, Jade reached up to grab Rose by the shirt before yanking her forwards and back, thudding down on the ground on her own back before rolling to pin the blonde down, waves of her long dark hair covering them both as they kissed like life would stop existing should they stop.

It was an obvious next step to start shedding layers. The only thoughts in their minds were More, Now, Warm, Wet, and Sex. God, the sex. It seemed so important suddenly. The only important thing in the world was to have sex right then, right there, or surely the world would implode. Off went Rose’s shirt before she pulled back from the kiss and abandoned her wands to the side like common sticks to wrestle the larger girl off her and onto her back instead, hands fussing with the front of her jeans even as her hips rocked against the curve of Jade’s well muscled thighs to get a bit of friction underneath her skirt.

They fought this way till the layers were all off and each was bare as a newborn, winding up face to face on their knees with their legs spread, each with a hand between the other’s thighs, rubbing at the wet slits they found with greedy fingers. Jade had to bend her back slightly to accomodate a kiss, taller than Rose by a good amount, and it made her breasts hang at such a nice level that Rose couldn’t help but break that kiss to feast instead. She teased a nipple with her tongue, with her teeth till it was hard, peppering Jade’s dark skin with her black lipstick in gaudy smudged lines as she went from one side to the other to suckle till she shivered and shook. The wetness on Rose’s fingers became more pronounced as she rubbed, finally urging her to slip a finger inside. When one proved to be insufficient, she placed two inside up to the middle knuckle, gasping when Jade’s larger fingers did the exact same thing without warning.

The sounds were lewd and wet as they worked out a tempo, Rose’s hand going quicker when it was apparent that was what Jade wanted and liked most, Jade’s going slower when she noticed how hard Rose liked to grind on her palm when she got close to a certain spot inside of her. They shook, finding it hard to stay still, hard to stay in place. This couldn’t last, they needed to keep moving, needed to do more. Needed more.

Rose was the one who broke position first, removing her fingers from Jade’s entrance and slipping them between her own dark lips while looking up at her with hazy eyes, tongue swirling till everything was clean to give an idea of what she wanted to do. Jade’s hand withdrawing, though hesitantly, at least seemed to be permission enough. Moving forward to put pressure on Jade’s shoulders, Rose pushed her backwards, back towards the couch till she got the picture and stood to go take a seat, shimmying herself to the edge as Rose crawled closer, a hungry demon in disguise ready to pray at the altar of sweet flesh before her.

Black kiss marks started at Jade’s navel before peppering lower, barely there outlines as the residue finally disappeared over the top of her pubic hair, lower and lower still till her tongue traced the pink nub of clitoris and began to suckle mercilessly.

It was intense, too much in fact, but Jade wasn’t about to tell her to stop. Instead, she arched her back and gasped, knees splaying wider reflexively as her toes curled, long legs awkwardly hovering in place before Rose reached up and clasped at either side of her thighs and pulled her close. Squeeze all you want, the touch said. Such a pretty pair of earmuffs should be worn with pride.

With the teasing over, Rose went lower and traced her tongue over the outer edges of Jade’s labia, flatly lapping over the ridges of her inner lips with a groan to get another taste of what had been on her fingers moments earlier. Unable to help herself, she finally slipped her tongue inside and swirled it about, sampling all she pleased, slowing only when she glanced up to check the beautiful view of Jade’s back arched and her mouth open, white, uneven teeth on full display. The moans were delicious as she was, and Rose went back to her task with gusto, one hand slipping down between her own thighs to stroke and rub at herself needily.

She needed… more. She needed a bit more for this to feel as good as possible. She’d kill for her toys from home, even if it was just the one with the suction cup. The idea of impaling herself on something large while making Jade cry out and spasm like this was appealing enough that Rose moaned with want, twitching. She came, hard, and focused through the mind numbing effect just enough to keep edging Jade along towards her own release.

More ambrosia for the greedy blonde, a thumb rubbing at Jade’s clitoris as she suckled and lapped away at her target, but… it wasn’t enough.

More.

Needed more.

The thought was terribly urgent now, and though neither knew it, the same thoughts were running through each other’s minds, carried on the heavy scent of roses and fresh water and the smell of sex.

More.

Without a word, Jade stood up like a sleepwalker and wandered nude through her home, up to her bedroom, to rummage for some things while Rose took care of what needed to be done. The caster would be the one to cast this second net. Rose stood up and walked to where her purse lay, her own fluids running down her thighs as she straightened and bent once more, pulling out her phone.

It’d take two calls.

No…

One call.

One call, and that would be enough.

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

Dave’s phone rang three times before he answered it. He was lounging on John’s couch at the moment, feet up on John himself as if he were a footstool while he played a video game. Badly, by Dave’s standards, but hey who was keeping track aside from him.

“Sup,” he said, not even checking to see who was calling. Whoever it was had gotten his number correct enough to make the phone ring, so a conversation they would have whether they wanted one or not. He kind of missed the last spam call he got, it had been a good way to waste an hour, talking them into ever entwining circles.

“Dave?”

“Rose,” Dave said once he recognized the voice, less confirming who it was but more mimicking her speech pattern in the moment.

“Dave… are you busy right now?”

“Define busy, because if by Busy you mean hecklin’ Egbert while he repeatedly beefs it at Mario Kart, then yeah, I’m busy as fuck.”

“ Shut up, I’m not doing that bad!” came John’s offended voice, reaching behind him with one arm to swat at Dave’s feet, wanting to make him uncomfortable. Talk shit, get hit.

“Says the guy who’s catchin’ every goddamn banana peel and shell ever released in the game from the first day of release till now, are you even gettin’ time to drive straight or are you just holdin’ the thing for fun at this point.”

“Ah, you’re at John’s, perfect,” she said. “We need both of you.”

“Yeah? What for?” Dave asked, fending off John’s slaps with his feet on his chest as he’d finally had enough to abandon his meager chances at victory to deliver a playful onslaught of his own.

“We need to feed the plants,” Rose said, before hanging up.

Blinking, Dave held his phone up to look at it, tempted to dial back but not doing so. “...Well. That was fuckin’ creepy.”

“What’d she say?” John asked, giving up his assault in favor of leaning heavily on Dave’s legs like a counterweight, letting himself be jiggled in place by the press of his feet.

“That we were needed. That we need to feed the plants.”

“Uh. And you said that was Rose, right? Was that Rose-Rose or spooky Rose?” John asked, slightly suspicious. They’d been summoned by stranger things before when she was communing or doing rituals, and some of the horror movie side effects had lasting precautionary measures to John’s psyche. Like trying to remember not to freak out if your friends pupils and irises disappear because startling sounds can cause the shrieks of the damned in response.

“It sounded like normal Rose. Besides, she was just goin’ to hang at Jade’s today, right?” he asked, gently easing John closer to his body by letting his leg bend to his chest, carefully controlled movements making his muscles burn in a pleasant way. “No need for spooky Rose if she’s just chillin’ there.”

“Mmm.. yeah I guess… But why would they need us to help feed plants? Doesn’t Jade usually have that on lockdown?”

“Maybe she’s got some new range of babies that eat raw steak for lunch and need some extra hands that don’t mind gettin’ chewed on a bit to feed’em.”

“I’d mind getting bit, fuck you!”

“Aw, poor John, afraid of gettin’ nibbled on by plants with puppy teeth,” Dave crooned, pressing John bodily backwards again with a grunt till he got the picture and stood up on his own power. “C’mon, let’s boogie and see what’s up. I’m curious now.”

The game chimed with the sound of other players victories, making John sigh and turn his system off. Not like he’d had a chance at that point anyway, but man it still sucked. “Okay, okay, let me just get my keys..,”

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

Neither was sure what to expect when they went to Jade’s place. The lights were on, but low from the outside, and the air smelled strange. Pleasant, but strange, more flowery than usual. They assumed Jade must have gotten some new plants after all, or something somewhere was in full bloom out of view, and knocked on the door.

And again.

With no response, John tried the knob and found the door unlocked, letting himself in. “She won’t mind, especially if Rose called us over,” he reasoned.

“Yeah I gue- Jesus H Fuckin’ Christ, can you smell that?” asked Dave, giving a soft hoot of disbelief, fanning in front of his face once they stepped inside. “It’s like the place got dipped into the flowery section of Bath’n Body Works.”

“Yeah, hah. Maybe the smell’s from the plants that need… fed,” John trailed off as they closed the door and wandered inside.

There were many things that the duo expected to see when they rounded the entryway corner and made it into the living room, but the scene before them was not one of them. Rose and Jade, both nude, were quite busy on the back of the sofa. Rose was bent over the back edge of it, bracing herself, legs spread into a wide stance as Jade fucked her senseless from behind with what looked like one of her larger strap ons. It made for a gorgeous picture really, Jade’s hair wild and unkempt, her hips working like clockwork, breasts bouncing from the force of impact, long legs bent to accommodate Rose’s shorter stature. One hand was pressing the back of her head down, long fingers clenched in her hair to keep her in place, with her free hand held her hip. A sharp slap rang out as she raised it and thwacked the side of Rose’s ass hard enough to leave another red outline of her hand. Beyond them, on the coffee table, sat the most gorgeous flower either of them had seen, and all around in the air the pollen was already starting to work.

“Should... Should we leave? Are we interrupting?” John asked obliviously, red in the face and gesturing back towards the door with one baffled hand. Dave, beside him, was taking his phone out and snapping a picture to commemorate the moment. It wasn’t a selfie, but it’d join the others from other times they’d all fooled around nonetheless. What a nice album of memories.

“Nice.”

“Dave!”

“What.”

Groaning quietly, John looked back towards Jade and Rose, only to find them separating and focusing their attention on them. Rose was wobbly on her feet and thoroughly wrecked, but she still had a hungry look in her eyes that made John feel harder than he’d already been when she came closer. Jade, still wearing her good strap, smirked and made a beeline for Dave’s side. Maybe it was just the girls, maybe it was the pollen in the air, but it took little effort for Rose to lead John’s large frame closer to the couch and get his belt off and even less for Jade to grasp Dave beneath the arms and practically carry him over as well.

Layers were shed with efficiency due to four pairs of hands helping. As the pollen took stronger effect and the scent of roses became overwhelming, Dave found himself tugging John down for a messy kiss between items being tossed this way and that, grunting when he felt Jade slip up behind him and yank his hair to tip his head back. She leaned and kissed him upside down instead, playfully pressing the tip of her dick against the crest of his ass as she pressed her breasts against his shoulders, free hand reaching down to grab him by the cock. A promise of things to come.

Rose, meanwhile, had slipped behind John and was already working both hands around his dick, stirring it the rest of the way to life. John wasn’t able to stand still. More. Need. Want. Sex. Wet. Now. The same string of thoughts that had been rushing through Rose and Jade’s minds for the last hour and a half was trailing through John and Dave’s thoughts, the plant knowing damn well what it wanted. What all the plants in the living room, now infected, wanted. What Rose had wanted when she cast her spell. Almost frantically, John sat down on the couch and reached for Rose’s waist, lifting her up and setting her down on his lap, groaning when she didn’t waste a second, spreading her legs and sliding down around his cock like a tight fitting glove. Jade had really done a number on her from the feel of it, she was wetter than he’d ever seen her and already starting to bounce in place, hands resting on his shoulders.

Jade, thankfully, had brought lube with her when she brought the strap downstairs, knowing the boys would need it once they arrived. She made use of it now, steady fingers teasing Dave’s ass open as she leaned him against the back of the sofa where Rose had been minutes before, opposite of where she was now. His hands sought hers on John’s shoulders, fingers lacing as he leaned forwards, trying to catch her lips as she moved, failing to do much more than catch her splotchily marked lips as they passed by. She slowed her rise and fall on John’s lap and rose up onto her knees to kiss him instead, prompting John to grasp her hips and start fucking upwards from below, letting her stay steadier save for fleeting bobs of her breasts and head.

It was appreciated. At least until Jade finished her fingering and started to gently work the toy into place. It was a size Dave had taken before many times, the familiar toy roughly the size of John’s dick, but it’d been a while since they’d been this desperate for it. Impatient. Needy. Dave shifted his weight from side to side as Jade slowly worked in inch by inch, backing out enough to let the lube spread more before pushing inside further each time. Soon she’d bottomed out and leaned forwards to kiss up Dave’s back, biting the back of his neck ferally when she rocked her hips back and slammed them forwards the first time.

Jade followed Dave’s moans like directions, angling their bodies this way and that till they found the perfect angle for his prostate, hammering at the internal ridge mercilessly as Rose had attacked her clit earlier. When his legs buckled and tried to give out suddenly, she hefted him back up and braced him in place, one hand stabilizing on the couch and the other gripping his pale hip hard enough it left the imprint of finger marks and soft ridges from the tips of her nails.

Both blondes were a mess of moans, hair in their eyes, sweat on their brows as their lovers worked them over. ...Yet it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough when Rose forced herself lower as John came, clenching tightly around him as she finished again. It wasn’t enough when Dave gasped and painted a few patches of the wooden floor white and panted for breath.

It wasn’t enough, not for the plants. The plants wanted More. Wanted Now. Wanted Sex. Wanted Wet. Wanted Hard. John, Dave, Rose and Jade wanted More, Now, Sex, Wet, Hard.

More.

The pollen wasn’t satisfied.

Rose peeled herself off John’s lap when Jade pulled out of Dave and let him walk on wobbly legs to the front of the couch, following him with the eyes of a predator as he took over Rose’s position like a changing of the guard, slipping down readily onto John’s still achingly hard cock, still plenty wet from his earlier release and Rose’s fluids. A few bounces was as far as he got before Jade was stopping him and pushing him forwards against John’s chest, trying to fit against him like a puzzle piece. The tip of the toy probed at him, demanding entrance, though he was unsure if it was even possible when something was already within him. Rose crouched behind Jade and helped to steady the cock as it repeatedly attempted to gain purchase, her other hand reaching up to knead at one of her full breasts before trailing touches down her lipstick marked torso and abdomen, the worked up sweat making for a nice texture when she scratched gently with her nails before dipping lower to finger her encouragingly.

Jade and John traded positions a few times, one entering and pounding away before withdrawing and allowing the other into place, working him open more and more as he relaxed… before finally they were able to, gently, accomplish it. John hissed air when he felt Jade’s toy against his dick, the warm pressure around him almost too intense to handle. Rose had scootched aside and climbed up onto the couch, alternating between kissing John and Dave’s breathless mouths as Jade slowly began to move for the both of them, rubbing sensually against John’s cock every time she pushed inwards, rocking Dave further forwards onto John every time she pulled back. She fingered herself busily and groaned at the sight as Dave shook and shivered, dick already spilling against John’s stomach. The brunette wasn’t far behind, grunting as he came, Jade pulling out to discard the soiled toy and strap. Among the items she’d gathered was a washcloth, and she wasted no time in throwing it onto John’s lap the second it was empty, Dave rising as if in a trance to follow Rose’s lead to the floor.

The blondes tussled for control of the situation, unsure of who was going where for a hot minute, before Dave finally got Rose on her side and sank his dick into her wetness, hefting one of her legs up to improve the angle till she cried out.

John, still on the couch and feeling light headed, didn’t get much reprieve between the call of the flower and the beckoning crook of Jade’s finger from the other side of the flower. He washed himself off before rising to follow her call, sinking down to his knees before her when she settled back and parted strap marked legs before him, a goddess in her own right. Her tangled hair fell wildly around her shoulders now, framing her flushed face as she stretched and arched her back showily.

Not able to resist, John lowered down to get a taste of her as Rose had earlier, nose deep in pubic hair and happy as a clam as he feasted, licking and suckling ways he knew she liked till she tugged his hair and pulled him up.

Oral was good and fun, but after that long wearing the strap, she needed something substantial to work against to get off again.

More.

Now.

The plants demanded everything they had to give and more.

Dave and Rose continued to cry out as they writhed on the floor across from them, while John scooted up as Jade demanded and aligned their bodies, finding it easy to slip inside of her. Unlike when playing with the blondes, they were about the same size, making it easier to be a little rough with how they moved with one another. John stayed still for a moment to catch his breath before starting to roll his hips in place, trying to find the best angle he could. When it wasn’t quite feeling right, he pulled back briefly and lifted Jade’s legs, bending her in just such a way that her legs were hooked around his forearms at the knee, deepening the angle substantially and letting him sink in as deeply as possible with each thrust. Jade’s pleasured cry was a good enough indicator for him as he muffled her with a kiss, working his hips like a piston, rocking her against the wooden floor as he braced with his hands.

The effects of the plant lasted well into the night before finally, blissfully, the magic link was broken and the rose wilted, the taken energy more than enough to fulfill the obligations of the cast spell and then some. So, too, did the rest of the plants in the living room wilt.

Jade and Rose were a tangle on the floor, Rose with her face against Jade’s breasts and one hand flung out to the side as she panted shallowly. Dave and John were beside them, arms wrapped tight around each other as they panted dazedly.

“...What… the fuck… was that…” Dave eventually got out when he could think. Well, when he could think of anything aside from the fact his balls must be raisins by now and how walking was going to be off the menu for the day. Maybe the entire weekend. Sorry boss, sick day, can’t walk. Why? Doesn’t matter, mind your business, can’t walk.

“...I think I made a miscalculation with a spell,” Rose said, not lifting her head, words coming out slurred.

“The plants’re dead,” Jade confirmed dazedly, squinting. Where had her glasses gone? When had they gone anywhere? Things were cloudy and some details hard to remember. She reached out to pat John on the hip comfortingly. “You alive?”

“Barely,” he groaned. “Ugh. My head… At least it doesn’t smell like roses anymore.”

“Yeah,” Rose chuckled.

“...Now what,” Dave asked, looking up at the ceiling. Weirder things had happened before somewhere surely, best to just take these kinds of things in stride. At least it had happened with people who were already his partners instead of a group of strangers, right?

“Wanna get pizza?” Jade asked. “I’m starving .”

“Do I have to move or put on pants,” John asked. “I think my everything is broken.”

“Rock paper scissors for who answers the door,” Rose suggested with a tired grunt, her own stomach suddenly realizing it was painfully in need of fuel.

“You’re on,” said Dave. “Prepare to lose.”

They supposed, all tangled up on the floor, sticky from several different sources and covered in sweat, that this would at least make a funny story someday. For now though, they took solace in one another for the experience, ate too much pizza, and eventually limped their way to the shower in pairs before retiring to Jade’s oversized bed for an impromptu sleepover. Their dreams were deep and blissful, their sleep regenerating, and their bond was stronger than ever before.

#beta ot4 #homestuck #my fic #happy easter whoops lmfao

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psqqa · 5 years ago

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by the time i stopped to consider why the fuck i was putting this together in the first place, i’d already typed most of it up. idk i guess i just like throwing my joy into the void, where the void can either choose to ignore it or derive some joy from it itself. either is fine.

anyway, i’m never going to have enough of these in any one category to put together a proper FST or anything, nor am i capable of imprinting on a song for reasons that aren’t like “feathers.......hawks”, because really this is all driven by my terrible sense of humour, but what i have collected so far Sparks Joy, so into the void it goes.

psqqa’s list of songs applicable to bnha in some way, shape, or form

No One Is Alone - Into the Woods - this is a vibe i’ve been getting from the manga for a while but then the my villain academia arc just totally cinched it (while we’re seeing our side/maybe we forgot/they are not alone/no one is alone)

Falling - Haim - this one is a bakugou song for me, which probably says something about me because i’m fairly sure it could almost equally be a midoriya song if you wanted it to be. yes, both could be good, but the brain doesn’t always work that way. (they keep saying/don’t stop/no it’s never enough/i’ll never look back/never give up/and if it gets rough/it’s time to get rough)

Ice and the Storm - My Brightest Diamond - inatodo. i did warn you. (darling we’ve accumulated/too much miscommunication/in the beginning everything is soft/not defensive/perhaps we begin again/shining)

Sacrilege - Yeah Yeah Yeahs - feathers.......hawks. probably dabi/hawks given the options so far, but that’s pretty immaterial tbh (fallen for a guy/fell down from the sky/halo/round his head/feathers in our bed)

Girl - Anouk - listen i’m not going to lie, i’ve never fully been able to figure out what the hell is going on in this song. like, i would say it’s just straight up anouk being in love with the titular “Girl”, but then there’s the “him” in the first verse so who even knows. i’ve settled on polyamory, which makes this my jirou highkey got the feels for yaomomo and lowkey got the feels for kaminari and she needs yaomomo to understand this so they can work on a frankly totally unnecessary because kaminari is already all in baby Wooing Plan (still got my hands/they’re clinging/so i just keep going/i don’t know where i belong/could i belong to you)

Electric Feel - MGMT - electric..........kaminari. i like to think of it in terms of kaminari/jirou/yaomomo. idk maybe he gets bored waiting for them to plan their Wooing Plan and just takes matters into his own terrible pickup line hands. or perhaps it’s just aimed at yaomomo and we can take these two songs jointly to be The Wooing of YaoMomo. which actually now that i’ve typed it out i am quite fond of as an idea. (i said ooh girl/shock me like an electric eel/baby girl/turn me on with your electric feel)

the three song stretch that runs Slow Show-Apartment Story-Start A War - The National - The Soul-Crushing Weight Of Being In Your Early-To-Mid-Twenties!kiribaku. this would be like triply the case if i were reading this manga in 2012 instead of 2019. (i wanna hurry home to you/put on a slow dumb show for you/and crack you up - be still for a second while i/try and try to pin your flowers on/can you carry my drink i have everything else/i can tie my tie all by myself - do you really think you can just/put it in a safe behind a/painting lock it up and leave/walk away now/and you’re gonna start a war)

Fireproof - The National - also kiribaku. look man idk what to tell you. it just be like that sometimes. (you’re fireproof/nothing breaks your heart/you’re fireproof/it’s just the way you are)

The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts - Sufjan Stevens - man of steel, man of heart...............tetsutetsu. pick your tetsutetsu ship of choice. it doesn’t matter. all parties equally applicable because only a steel man can be a lover/if he had hands to tremble all over/we celebrate our sense of each other/we have a lot to give one another

New Shoes - Paolo Nutini - kirishima song!! (hey i put some new shoes on/and suddenly everything’s right/i said hey i put some new shoes on/and everybody’s smiling/it’s so inviting)

Dance Apocalyptic - Janelle Monae - mina song!! what can i say, it’s got mina energy. also i feel like ‘dance apocalyptic’ would a great hero name for mina. (but i really, really want to thank you/for dancing ‘til the end/you found a way to break out/you’re not afraid to break out)

Whoo! Alright – Yeah...Uh Huh - The Rapture - kaminari song!!! do the lyrics even work for him? who knows, i’m just in it for the cowbell. and so is kaminari. (people don’t dance no more/they just stand there like this/they cross their arms and/stare you down and/drink and moan and diss)

Invincible - OK Go - now i could, and i guess sort of do, think of this as a bakugou ship song generally, but to be quite honest, i think it’s probably just the song his brain plays on a loop whenever he does anything (when they finally come to destroy the earth/they’ll have to deal with you first/and now my money says they won’t know about/the thousand fahren/heit hot metal/lights behind your eyes/invincible/oh oh oh/you’re invincible)

Daniel - Bat for Lashes - tododeku - don’t @ me (daniel/when i first saw you/i knew that you had/a flame in your heart/and under wild blue skies/marble movie skies/i found a home in your eyes/we’d never be apart)

Gekommen um zu bleiben - Wir sind Helden - BAKUSQUAD!!!! i mean, also like 1-a generally, but for me it’s really the bakusquad.....also i literally just realized that the band name itself works really well here (wir gehen nicht/aber wenn wir gehen/dann gehen wir in scheiben/entschuldigung ich sagte/wir sind gekommen um zu bleiben)

Don’t Call Me Baby - Madison Avenue - the kacchako song. why? because i was reliving the turn of the millennium. next question. (don’t think that i’m not strong/i’m the one to take you on/don’t underestimate me boy/i’ll make you sorry you were born/you don’t know me/the way you really should/you sure misunderstood/don’t call me baby)

You Will Not Take My Heart Alive - Joanna Newsom - All Might. although i think this entire album is one he would Have Feelings about. and tbh it’s impossible at this point for me to consider any one song off this album entirely on its own. it’s always within the greater context of the album as a whole. (and i won’t come round this way again/where the lonely wind abides/and you will not take my heart alive)

Don’t Wanna Fight - Alabama Shakes - bakudeku. i didn’t actually think any song would ping me as bakudeku at any point, but here we are. (what you like/what i like/why can’t we both be right?/attacking/defending/until there’s nothing left/worth winning)

Mrs. Robinson - Simon & Garfunkel - hawks/dabi-hawks/endeavour melodramatic clusterfuck. no i’m not taking questions. (DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE/DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO/DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE)

Riot Rhythm - Sleigh Bells - riot........kirishima. but yeah kirishima and bakugou are bros and that’s Good. they might also be more than bros, but that’s up to you i guess. (because my best friend/she's okay/carve you out/all the way/straight A kids/like a treat/she stands up/takes the heat)

In The Shadows - The Rasmus - tokoyami. i feel like i’m virtually incapable of talking about tokoyami without also mentioning this song, but like, you’ve seen the video right? (i've been watching/i've been waiting/in the shadows/for my time)

The Hero - Queen - this one is probably cheating, given that it was written for the actual soundtrack of an actual superhero movie, but it’s not like there’s any rules to this and i’ve never seen the movie......or anything else with flash in it i guess, so whatever. anyway, not so much All Might as like every character in this manga when they were 4yo watching All Might. (he’s for every one of us/stands for every one of us/he’ll save with a mighty hand)

Impossible Soul - Sufjan Stevens - this wasn’t on this list until sometime around 2:30 AM last night when i was lying awake because i didn’t take my nightly melatonin and something something i can’t even vaguely remember the train of thought but it ended in me deciding this was a good bakudeku song. not so much the first part, but like ‘do you want to be afraid’ onward. maybe the eight minutes of “boy we can do much more together” will be enough for bakugou to get the message. (boy we can do much more together/better get it right/get it right/get it right/get it right/boy we can do much more together/it’s not so impossible)

to be updated if further song pinging happens, i guess?

#bnha #so many of these songs have videos that i never knew existed and have never seen before #the one for sacrilege in particular is real fucked up #the daniel one appears to have changed the intro #which is bothering me #but fine #i will live #sound is a colour i know

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mz-hide · 5 years ago

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Trick of Might - Chapter 11

Aka: a Dragon Ball Z slash fic.

Chapter 11

A little breather from the smutfest with some plot in which Piccolo may or may not be onto something and Bulma is a barely-managing adult.

(Warning: contains a lil spicy VegeBul moment)

Summary: An ancient enemy makes a sudden comeback into Goku’s life. Long-suppressed memories surface again and it’s no longer possible for the young saiyan to ignore them. Warnings: Dubious Consent, (because of drug use) Ships & Pairings: Bulma/Vegeta, Goku/Vegeta, Goku/Turles, Goku/Turles/Vegeta, Turles/Vegeta, Raditz/Turles, Nappa/Turles, Nappa/Raditz/Turles Contains: Threesome - M/M/M, Group Sex, Polyamory, Aphrodisiacs, Secret Crush, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Love Triangles, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Biting, Scratching, Boners All Around, Feral Behavior, (just a tiny bit), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content

You can find the rest on my AO3 page (username: originalmonkeyhydes)

It wasn’t as if Piccolo was truly intimidated by his former enemy’s wife. Chi Chi was strong for sure, but not in comparison to a Namekian warrior. He had no real reason to fear her. Even so, he found himself flying off in the direction opposite to the Son family’s house. Bulma had made a lot of sense when she’d suggested that bringing back the news of her husband’s disappearance and her precious child’s unconscious body in the dead of the night was something she might not have taken easily. And a Namekian’s hearing was very sharp, their ears very sensitive. Piccolo didn’t need to risk making an attempt to know it wouldn’t have been a good idea. Instead, he flew to a place of peace and quite, where he could watch over Gohan while waiting for him to regain consciousness. The air was still quite warm in the wastelands. A spot on the soft, tender summer grass would have made a fine enough place for his pupil to sleep for the night. He’d been used to it during the year Piccolo had spent training him, after all. Sure, in the morning the woman would have been furious, waking up to find both her kid and her husband gone without a word or warning. But if he’d waited for the sunrise, Gohan would have been conscious again and Piccolo would not have been there to hear it when he made it back home to explain the situation. The green-skinned warrior flew at a leisure pace, constantly, mildly aware of the monstrous energy radiating from afar. Cell’s energy was still obnoxiously foreboding even at such a great distance. The bug-like android made no effort to conceal his outstanding aura. So far he’d kept his word and let time fly by without causing any more panic. The world was already shaking with the danger of the upcoming tournament that would have decided its fate. Cell would be the type for self-complacency. Piccolo could believe he would truly just sit the entire month out without even making a move to re-assert his undisputed superiority or train. He seemed to believe he didn’t need to. And, of course, he was right. Even so, the constant presence of his aura at the corners of his conscience was making Piccolo beyond uneasy. What if that monster gets bored and decides to make a move while Goku is gone? Who’s going to face him then? As much as irks me to admit it, even having Vegeta around would come in handy right now. With those two idiots gone, there’s only so much the rest of us can do. We can still count on Trunks, but… He looked at the boy in his arms and felt a familiar uneasiness take hold of him. Gohan had grown strong. He had to remind himself the boy was now stronger than him. If he was stronger than Cell, that he didn’t know. Goku was keeping the details of their father-son training to himself, leaving Piccolo and all the others in the dark. If he were a betting man, he would wager the saiyan had done that not to give his friends too high hopes. Part of him wanted to trust the man’s secrecy, part of him couldn’t help but doubt him. Goku was a capable fighter, maybe the only hope they had to save the planet from the new menace. Piccolo had grown to know and respect him over the years, he’d grown to care for his son too, so much that their unlikely new-found friendship had eclipsed his ancient unconditional hatred. But how was he supposed to trust Goku now? The saiyan had just disapeared on them without saying a word. But even that would have been fine, if the distraction hadn’t kept him off planet for so long. This is the kind of reckless behavior that almost got him killed on Namek. He can’t afford to keep behaving like this when he has the fate of the world on his shoulders, he moped, gently landing on a plateau of his liking, laying Gohan down on the soft, fragrant grass. The rock still retained a faint trace of the scorching direct sunlight it had absorbed during the day and let out a pleasant glowing warmth. Even at that height, the temperature was still pleasant and the rock formation shielded them from the strongest gusts of the desert winds. Nevertheless, the Namekian took off his heavy clock and set it over the sleeping boy’s body to shield him from the chill of the night breeze. He sat down next to his pupil and let his eyes roam the landscape, absorbed in meditation. A slight frown creased his forehead upon noticing a familiar disruption of the otherwise harmonious skyline. There was an unnatural void where once had been plateaus and mountains, as if the land had been swept clean. A lot had happened since then and he hadn’t ventured to that place, but Piccolo still remembered where he’d died. He hand’t been alive to see the mountains crumble and rock turn to dust to know that was the destruction brought about by Goku and Vegeta’s first fight. Another wave of fretting irritation washed over him. Goku’s night escapade had been just the cherry on top of a cake of foreboding signs he’d elected to overlook. Lately, the man’s behavior had been debatable, to say the least. Since Trunks had showed up to warn them about the androids, something had changed. Initially he’d seemed to take the threat seriously. He’d trained diligently, pushing Gohan as hard as he would push himself. Piccolo had found his intensity fitting for the occasion. He could have almost sworn Goku had started being considerate, possibly for the first time in his life. He had suggested not to use the dragon balls to resolve the problem, so that Vegeta would have a reason not to antagonize them anymore. That had felt like a smart idea. Piccolo saw it as the next best option to fix the mistake of leaving the other saiyan alive. He hadn’t noticed that Goku was actually just being reckless. He had forgotten to take his medicine. He had forgotten his own life was at risk. And then, even after Vegeta had proven himself unworthy of trust, he’d kept spurring him on, going to the length of telling him about the hyperbolic time chamber. All the conniving, the teasing, the flaunting and the unexplained secrecy… Piccolo was starting to think it had all been a just a game between the two saiyans. And he sure as hell did not like that thought one bit. He lifted his eyes to the sky, brooding. Now that those two had gone and took to space together, he didn’t know what to think. Especially since the faint, ominous energy orbiting about the solar system hadn’t waned nor spiked since. Knowing Vegeta, there was a good chance he was going to take the occasion to test his power and stroke his ego. Knowing Goku, there was no way he would have turned down a challenge if the Prince had presented him with one. That was the whole reason he’d spared him, even after he’d threatened to destroy his planet and kill his son. Piccolo retroactively cringed in indignation at the thought. Saying he disliked Vegeta was saying very little. Though he’d grown to understand and respect Goku, first as a worthy opponent and then as something akin to a friend, when it came to his decision to spare Vegeta, he had very little trust in his judgment. And he was starting to have little trust in his own. He’d just let the saiyan go. He’d just knowingly let the proud, overconfident, delusional Prince of saiyans get to something that could potentially make him a serious threat again. If Goku had been wrong and the tree had produced fruits, Piccolo wasn’t sure Vegeta wouldn’t have consumed one and took the chance to take his nemesis out once and for all. He would have done it, even if it had meant he would be dooming Earth to certain destruction. He had a spaceship, after all, he could decided to leave everything behind him, if he wished to. Why wouldn’t he, after all? The Prince had put the whole planet in danger before. He was the one responsible for Cell’s final form. He was the one who’d allowed him to transform. His arrogance was what had doomed them all. But, more than that, it had been Goku’s fault. He was the one who’d pushed them all down that dangerous slope the moment he’d decided not to use the dragon balls. He’d wanted it all. And he’d wanted all that, he’d put himself and all his friends though it all just to keep Vegeta on the planet. But does Vegeta even care for that? No. All he cares about is to become stronger than Goku so that he can have his rematch and beat him. And he doesn’t plan to show the same mercy Goku has showed him. If he wins, it’s the end. All he wants is to beat Goku. So, why waste the chance, when he has a way to become stronger than him right in front of him, ripe for the plucking? He gritted his teeth. One would think that, after all the training they’ve been through and ascending beyond the level of a super saiyan, it would be impossible not to feel it if those two were to fight. I can’t sense anything like that. If they’re not fighting, then… what are they both doing up there? Gohan mumbled slightly in his sleep, turning to the side. His serene sleeping face was a nice distraction from his disturbing trail of thoughts. The Namekian put his worries aside, focusing instead on keeping watch over his pupil.

Her entire body was flaring with anger. Her stupid experiment wasn’t going well, sitting in the lab had been infuriating. Once frustration had gotten to her, her hands had started shaking, her mind had stopped reasoning but she’d refused to stop. And then the damn thing had decided to explode right in her face. She was lucky she had been wearing a mask of she would have lost an eye. Or set fire to her hair. Not that it would have been exceedingly regrettable, considering it probably look awful anyway. Bulma had been feeling uncharacteristically ugly for a while. She felt swollen and possibly constipated. Her clothes seemed to fit too tight and her skin and hair seemed to be more greasy than usual, no matter what she did. When she wasn’t chewing a gum, she gnawed at her nails. And to top it all off, there was a warm, tight, stirring coil in the pit of her stomach that just wouldn’t leave her alone. After handling the rest of her day so poorly, deciding to resolve that particular issue was probably a bad idea. But she felt too pent up to care. “My room. 10 minutes”, she demanded through the intercom. The holographic screens were probably showing a face as inviting as her tone. It was a good thing Vegeta was facing in the other direction, one hand behind his back and one on the floor, pushing his weight up with seeming difficulty. Droplets of sweat ran down his sides and fell to the floor as if they’re been made of led. Gravity in the chamber must have been impossibly intense. “Not now, woman, I’m training.” Not a tone she was willing to listen to right now. “I was working the other day but I had to drop everything and indulge you when you came looking for me, didn’t I?”, she insisted, defiantly. “You liked it.” Arrogant asshole. “You’ll like it too. Now get over here.” “I told you, I’m training. I don’t have time for your stupid whims.” “If you don’t come now, I’ll turn the gravity chamber off. You know I can do it.” “You wouldn’t dare-“ Bulma shut the communication off, abruptly. She wasn’t having any of Vegeta’s attitude that day. She accessed her remote control panel and shut the power down. It wasn’t long before she heard the Prince’s heavy steps as he stormed to her room. When he got in, he was fuming as she was. He hadn’t bothered washing sweat off his face and chest, nor putting clothes on. He was still wearing a pair of training shorts and the scent of exertion. To Bulma’s satisfaction, he also wore a look of astounded surprise the moment he saw her, already naked and confrontational, arms on her hips and head held high in a defiant pose. He staggered. A hint of color showed on his cheeks, and not from anger, this time. Good. “I warned you.” The saiyan glared at her, nostrils twitching. She could read tension everywhere in the stiffness of his body and a conflicting glimmer of interest in his dark, flashing eyes. By that time she’d had plenty of fights with Vegeta to know what kind of emotions confrontation stirred up within him. She could tell when she had already won. “Dammit, woman! Do you need it that badly?!”, he growled. “You’re lucky I didn’t increase gravity enough to crush you instead of turning it off”, she uttered, drily, pursing her lips. “If you play nice you might be able to convince me to turn it back on.” But of course, Vegeta wasn’t going to play nice. He picked her up -not as girls dream to be picked up by their knights, but like a potato sack, flung over his shoulder- and threw her onto bed. Her head spun, but she didn’t complain. The rough treatment was just what she needed right in that moment. Her legs were spread open before she knew it and her breath grew hoarse when the saiyan’s hand started touching in between them. “You really needed this, didn’t you?”, the Prince asked, cruelly, as she bucked against his palm. “That’s what I call you up here for, isn’t it?” The scientist whined when warm, calloused digits flicked along her lips, finding the abundant wetness that had bloomed within. She didn’t need much more touching and teasing before she was ready to accept them inside. Her hips tilted and her thighs twitched, feeling them curl against her walls, making her gasp. Vegeta compensated for the compliance of one of his hands with the other, pinching one of her nipples, hard enough to sting. She squealed and slapped him. Her palm throbbed from the hash blow, he’d barely budged. There was a smirk on his face when he pinned both her hands over her head. She didn’t fight against his hold. But she did press a knee against his crotch and cherished the spangled grunt that earned her when she increased the pressure. “You are being bitchier than usual today. And not in an attractive way”, the saiyan hissed, his voice deep and raucous. “But it’s working, isn’t it?” She could feel him swelling against the rubbing of her thigh. “It won’t work forever.” “I beg to differ. You love being kicked around.” “Not as much as you love playing with fire. What exactly do you think will happen if you keep riling me up like this?” “How else can I get your attention, when you keep avoiding me?” “I avoid you because I can tell you’re hormonal. You’re insufferable!” “Then maybe I will stop taking the pill, you asshole! How does that sound?”, she said, surprising herself. The Prince understood well what protections were for but he hadn’t been too enthusiastic about using them. He’d agreed to get tested for any possible alien disease he might have had. After the results had been happily inconclusive, their last bag of condoms had been left to expire on the nightstand. She couldn’t deny it, as much as she enjoyed letting him finish inside her, she had grown tired of the pill. Even with the superior custom Capsule Corp version, side effects weren’t worth it. “If it’ll tone the crazy down, then fine!”, Vegeta rebuked. He sounded as exasperated as she felt. “Alright, maybe I will!”, she threatened and bluntly yanked the saiyan’s shorts down his thighs, freeing his erection. “Fine, then!” “Fine!” She was so aroused she didn’t stop to think about what they’d just said. By the time Vegeta had slipped inside of her and made her whole bed rock under his forceful thrusts, her mind had been tacitly made up. Later, with her arms and legs wrapped around the saiyan’s sturdy built, cradling his head against her shoulder and feeling his heat spilling inside of her, her eyes had drifted to the box of pills on her nightstand and found resolve in her decision. A sort of primal, whimsical urge had found its way into her brain…

When her hand found nothing but cold sheets, Bulma’s head shot up, almost instinctively. She blinked in confusion, the heaviness of sleep still resting on her head, looking at the empty space beside her in the bed. For a moment, she’d forgotten. Vegeta never stayed afterward. He didn’t sleep in her bed anymore. Or was it she who didn’t let him? She couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. She rubbed her eyes, trying to chase some of the tiredness away. Outside, stars had started to fade. Sunrise had just started to brighten the night sky. The day was on its way, but not quite there yet. She forced herself to slip out of her bed and look outside. From her room she could see most part of the yard. The landing strip where her spaceship had been anchored was still empty. Vegeta hadn’t come back. Or not to her back yard, at least. Judging from the time, it couldn’t have been more than four of five hours since he’d left. Still not a worrying amount of time. She diligently checked the security cameras around the house and then into Trunk’s room. No sings of the saiyan and her precious baby boy was still fast asleep. It wouldn’t have been too long before he’d woken up, demanding her milk. Nevertheless, the late-night snack from the night before might have bought her some time. And she knew just how to use it. With a relieved sigh, she let herself fall down on her bed once more, crawling under the sheets, baby monitor in hand. She figured she could slip in a couple more hours of sleep, if luck assisted her. She would have surely heard the spaceship engine when Vegeta deigned to come back.

#kakavege #vegekaka #vegebul #dbz fanfiction #dbs #dbz #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #my fics #Trick Of Might

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living-dead-parker · 5 years ago

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Tickets - P.P

Summary: You got tickets to a concert and heartbreak. Who do you go with? Do you even go?

Warnings: this takes place during the school year so we’re ignoring ffh lmao but it does end up being spideychelle, flash and brad aren’t assholes and no one can convince me otherwise bc I make the rules around here, Felicia hardy bc I fucking can, cussing maybe, and angst.

I’m considering a very self-indulgent part two polyamory imagine w Felicia and Brad so lemme know if that’s something y’all want. Also, Brad and reader are seniors and they’re both eighteen.

Word Count: 1.7k

"Oh cool," you call out to no one in particular, not looking up from your phone. In fact, you were talking more to yourself than anyone, really. As soon as the words left your mouth, you look up and see your group of friends look up at you. "Sorry, I managed to snag two VIP tickets for the Yeah Yeah Yeah's show coming up."

"Oh really? That's awesome," Ned responds, sending you a smile. However, you feel a little bit sad when you realize that the person who you wanted to take with you, well, you can't.

You can, but you can't. As in, you can ask them and they can say yes and they'll be able to go, but it's the principle of it all. Peter's not yours anymore, he's not your boyfriend and that makes you sad. He's happy with going after Michelle and it makes you kind of sad. However, you'd rather him be happy and if it's with Michelle, then who are you to hold him back? Plus, they're not actually together. Part of you hopes there's still a sliver of a chance, while deep down, you know you're holding on to some false hope.

So now that leaves the dilemma of who to take with you. You have six options, but you'd rather not go with either Peter nor Michelle for selfish yet obvious reasons. That leaves four options, but deep down you know you don't want to go with Betty because she's more of an acquaintance you hang out with because of mutual friends. So that just leaves Ned, Flash, and Brad.

"Who are you taking with you?" Brad asks. You look up at him and see him already staring at you, a glimmer in his brown eyes. Almost like a look of adoration. Oh, sweetie.

"Not sure yet," you begin, looking up at the group of friends around you. Seeing Peter and Michelle lost in their own world, only looking up as their conversation dies down, kind of makes your chest feel heavy. Your heart drops. However, you shake the feeling away, not wanting to give into it. "I don't really know who I want to take."

"You should take me," Flash responds, holding his head high and giving you a smirk. A friendly one, at least, which makes you giggle.

"Or how about that Felicia girl you're always talking about?" Ned pipes up, earning a nod from Brad. "Isn't she like your new best friend?"

"She's not really a fan of them," you begin, though you feel the small smile spread across your lips at the mention of your new best friend. Some argue there's more, but that's far from the truth. She's helping you every step of the way through your heartbreak as a best friend. "She'd say yes if I asked her to come, but I don't want to do that to her. She already deals with enough of my shit."

"Is she single?" Flash speaks up, earning chuckles from Peter and Michelle. Even Betty giggles. However, Ned and Brad roll their eyes almost at the same time as you.

"Leave the lady alone," Brad defends.

Brad had the opportunity to meet Felicia, as he was over at the Tower once when she came over. The two hit it off and the three of you seemed to be like the best of friends around each other. Though Brad would never admit it to you, that though he has a crush on you, he sees that you and Felicia are a match made in heaven. Better than you and Peter ever were. However, he'll keep that to himself for now as you mourn the heartbreak of losing the kid you loved to the girl who you thought was a close friend. Though that was the only case as neither of you managed to make relationships with other girls until Betty and Felicia came around in your lives. Through Felicia or through SI you made new girl friends and you found yourself drifting further from Michelle.

"Hey, the girl is hot-"

"And she's not into little boys, okay?"

"You're only a year older than me, Stark."

With that, you ignore Flash and continue talking to Brad for the rest of the lunch period. The two of you discuss how you should organize a sleepover at the tower with Felicia and himself. You were quick to agree, as spending time with the two of them always seemed to make you genuinely happy. Your mind was never on Peter or Michelle, they made you laugh beyond belief, and they made everything fun. Brad had become one of your best friends, as he was now in the same grade as you and you were in all of each other's classes. Now as the school year approaches its end, you're finding yourself making pacts with him and Felicia on keeping up your friendship.

Lunch was soon over and you were left confused about who to invite to the show. You know Flash really likes the band and Ned likes them too. Brad sort of likes them, but it's not something he'd kill to see, so he's at number three on the list. As the day progressed, you find yourself thinking about.

A day turns into a whole week and the show is rapidly approaching. Once again, you're sitting at the lunch table, staring at the tickets in your hand. Unsure of who should go with you. With you at the table sits Peter. Michelle is running late, and everyone else has some test to makeup, some club, and who knows what else. Today is just you and Peter.

"I really like her," he goes on, speaking about Michelle. The more and more he talks about her, the more it breaks your heart. At least until you hear him say, "Have you ever been around someone who makes you so nervous and sweaty and you just want to say nice things to them and love them?"

The urge to respond with 'yeah, you' was strong, but you fought it off. He moved on and you can't blame him. People change, feelings change. However, as he drones on and on, further tightening the knot around your throat, you decide to stop holding back. He's had his peace, you need yours.

"Peter, I get it," you cut him off. His eyes go wide and his lips shut as he looks at you. His brows are furrowed as he keeps his eyes focused on you. "You're in love with Michelle, I get it. And I'm so glad you're trying to make things official with her. I'm happy that you're happy because after I met you, that's all I ever wanted for you. To be happy," you continue. You shake your head and bite your lip as you feel your eyes gloss over. Peter scoots closer so that he's directly in front of you. He reaches for your hand but you tug it away from him. "I get that you moved on and I'm fine with that. I can't hold you back. But you need to understand that it wasn't so easy for me to move on."

"Y/N I-"

"Just let me talk. You've had your peace, I just want mine. Nothing that I say is meant to guilt-trip you, to convince you to come back to me, or to hate on you and Michelle. But I can't hold onto any of this any longer. Seeing you so happy with Michelle kills me, because that was supposed to be me. I was so convinced that we'd be together forever because we were so unstoppable. So unbreakable. I never imagined myself wanting to settle down in the future and have a family, but then you came along and I wanted it with you. So to come back and lose you like that, it hurt me beyond belief. It hurt me, to see you move on so quickly, to see you all over Michelle, it hurt so much Peter. Because before all of that, you told me it would be us. But as I said, people change and feelings change. I don't blame you for that. But I need you to understand that it's not easy for me to move on. So I'm sorry if I'm ever staring too hard, or if I'm distancing myself from both of you, but I'm doing it for me. You're allowed to move on and be happy with someone else, you have every right. But I also have every right to be hurt and mourn the loss of the love of my life."

Peter's quiet as he looks at you, his eyes never leaving you. He sees the stray tears fall and he fights back the urge to wipe them away. Though it's more of a habit than anything. If he does it, he knows it'll stir up some unwanted emotions, so he stops himself. Instead, he watches you look down at your hands, biting your lip. He sees you wipe the tears away and put on a fake smile.

"I know dad wouldn't want me to be upset over this forever. In fact, he'd want me to be the bigger person and to make amends. So, I've decided," you say after a while of silence. At the mention of your father, Peter feels like he'd been punched. He vowed to Tony that he'd never hurt you. Yet here he was, hurting you. "You and Michelle can have the tickets."

"What?" Peter says, eyes wide and voice laced with genuine shock. Are you serious? "Y/N, we can't t-"

"I know you and Michelle enjoy the band much more than I do and the same could be said about anyone else in the group. Plus, I'm planning a sleepover with Brad and Felicia on that night. We'll probably be busy drinking and flying around in dad's suits to attend some concert. So, just take the tickets and enjoy your time with Michelle. Don't let the tickets go to waste."

With that, you stand up and grab your things. You set the two tickets down in front of Peter and walking away. Not giving him time to fight you on it. So instead, he grabs the tickets and puts them away, beginning to think of ways to thank you. Though a voice in the back of his head tells him that leaving you alone might just be thanks enough.

Send me feedback, requests, and asks!!

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monsterkinkmeme · 6 years ago

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FAQ & Rules

Hello! Welcome to Monster Kink Meme!

This blog is a source for writing and art prompts for monsters & kinks. Pretty straightforward. Here’s a basic FAQ, mixed with our rules.

What is the point of this blog?

This blog is to generate writing and art prompts, similar to @write-it-motherfuckers and @writing-prompt-s, specifically for exophilia writers and artists.

Can we submit prompts?

Yes! Please do, either through the submission button or through asks. Asks are best for short prompts, or things that you want to keep anonymous. Submissions are best for longer prompts, and cannot be anonymous. We love getting prompts from folks. If you have a request for a story, please phrase it as a prompt. We aren’t a request blog, but a prompt blog.

Who can participate?

Anyone over the age of 18.

How can we participate?

Other than submitting prompts, if you see a prompt that inspires you, write or draw something and reblog it with the original prompt. Also, tag liberally.

Art submitted cannot be anonymous and must be from either the artist who created it or posted with permission from the artist who created it. Do not repost someone else’s art without their permission. This includes using it in moodboards (those collages at the top of stories.)

I see you suggest genders/monsters. Do I need to use those?

Mod prompts will sometimes have suggested genders & monsters. Those are totally optional and can be ignored if something else inspires you.

Submitted prompts that include requested monsters or genders should be considered mandatory, since people submitting those are setting up specific situations they’d hope to see.

Do I need to use a specific tense or point of view? [x]

No! The exophilia community does a lot of writing from second person present tense as a stylistic thing, but that doesn’t mean you should limit yourself to that. Write what feels comfortable to you. If that’s third person, write that! If it’s past tense, then that’s fine, too!

Can I write about sexy stuff? Kinky stuff? Polyamory?

Yes! We leave our prompts open, but if something you write takes a sexy turn, or features extra kinks, or multiple partners, that’s totally fine by us. (As long as it abides by the rules below re: what we don’t allow.) We love that stuff, it’s just that a lot of what we’ve gotten so far has been sweet rather than spicy.

Just make sure you TAG APPROPRIATELY. Use the citrus scale, tag for content (anything that people may want to know about before choosing to read your story), and follow the content rules. (We want consent, no incest, no underage sex, and no bestiality. Beyond that, it’s fair game.)

Where do I find monster inspiration?

We’ve got a post here. The short version? Everywhere! Pop culture. Cryptids. Mythology. Dungeons & Dragons. Video Games. Movies. Your Imagination.

I need writing help. Do you have advice?

We have a post here. It’s got advice from a bunch of us about how to start, how to continue. How to do the thing. The biggest thing is just to go for it. You’ll never get better without doing.

If a prompt has already been “filled,” can someone else write about the same prompt with a different story?

Yep! We’d love to see as many iterations as you guys can think of! (Someone asked Aelia about it, there’s a post.)

Are there any format expectations/requirements for stories?

Generally we like to see something that lists Characters, Content, and Rating, and a Read More link when appropriate.

Characters tells people who/what is in your story. Reader & monster genders would be listed here.

Content would be where you put any tags (see the next question) and warn people about anything that may squick or trigger, as well as any acts or situations that they may be interested in, or which they may wish to avoid. This allows people to make good choices for themselves.

Rating is based on our Citrus Scale.

If your story is more than about 6 paragraphs, or it’s explicit or potentially triggering, we love to see you use a Read More/Keep Reading tag after the first paragraph or two so when we reblog it people don’t have to scroll forever.

How should I tag?

There’s two spots we love to see tags!

1: Ahead of your story. If you put tags before your story, your readers can make informed choices about what you’ve written, and whether it’s a good/safe choice for them. This is where we want to see tags about any kinks, sex acts, or content warnings for readers.

2: In the tumblr tags. This is where you put things to make your story searchable, so DO NOT put NSFW or “sexual” tags here, as it will make the post inaccessible by searching. This is where all the tags about citrus scale, monster types, reader & monster genders, pairings, and fandoms that apply should go. Here’s a post about unsearchable tags. Using these tags will make your post “disappear” and we’d hate to see that happen.

We have a handy guide to how we want to see the citrus scale used for stories that people hope to see on our blog.

Overall, USE CONTENT WARNINGS. We cannot stress this enough. We want readers to be able to make informed choices about what they read to avoid “squicks” and triggers.

Should we use the “teratophilia” tag?

We would prefer you didn’t for two reasons: A: teratophilia is no longer a searchable tag, and B: given the original definition of the word (sexual attraction to deformed, disfigured, or monstrous people and a form of paraphilia, I.E. attraction to the disabled), the moderators of this blog feel it is both inaccurate and insensitive.

Most (not all, but most) monster-lover writers now use the much more accurate term exophilia (the love of extraterrestrial, robotic, supernatural, or otherwise non-human life-forms) to describe our work. Robophilia (sexual attraction to robots) and xenophilia (sexual attraction to aliens) is still permissible.

Topics we don’t allow/won’t post/reblog:

Real people (like actors, musicians, and other celebrities)

Incest (including step/adopted family members)

Non-con/dub-con (including rape-play)

Whump (”Hurt/Comfort” fics that focus more on the hurt and less on the comfort. Not to be confused with standard Hurt/Comfort or BDSM)

Bestiality (creatures that don’t possess the mental capacity to consent)

Under-aged/pedophilia (with the minimum age being 18)

Everything else it totally fine.

If you plan on writing anything along these lines using our prompts, please make it a separate post, and do not tag us in it. This is because we want our notes to be relatively safe for people to look through, but also because we don’t want to be associated with things that violate our policies.

We would also like to point out once more that this is a prompt/prompt fill blog, not a request or roleplay blog. If your story/submission does not meet our rules and is NOT a prompt/prompt fill, we will not be posting it on our blog.

Do not plagiarize books/movies/video games for your prompts.

We’ve seen this cropping up a lot recently. We will not post them if we spot them, and if we miss it and someone points it out, it’ll be deleted. [x]

General Expectation for Respect/Sensitivity

We didn’t want to phrase this one as a question necessarily but we wanted to make it clear that on the whole, not only do all of the mods of this blog embrace the idea of an open community, but we endorse appreciation over appropriation, as well as sensitivity and respect when working with creatures from races and cultures that are not your own, or sexualities, or genders which you do not identify with. We love representation, we just want to see it done well.

Mod Traveler has a post on her blog that sums it up well and includes links to educational resources for people looking for more info, but you should be able to reach out to any of us for more information about what we mean.

What are “theme days”?

We (sometimes) have two theme days a week where we request prompts that fit a specific theme. Prompts that come in on those days which fit those themes get posted immediately instead of getting queued.

Trope Tuesday is all about our favorite tropes with monsters mixed in. First Date Friday is about the trials and tribulations of first dates. We currently do them weekly, but that’s subject to change.

What are tropes?

We’ve had a few questions come in about this! We’ve answered it here, and here. But the short version is; storytelling shorthand. Common “cliche” situations that readers recognize, and may have set expectations for. (”Oh no someone is getting married and I need a date!” etc.)

I saw you reblog something from [other prompt page]. Why?

So, we reblog from other prompt pages because we are trying to keep enough prompts in the queue to have stuff posting with consistency. We’ve been trying to share relevant prompt posts from other places (with permission from the other blogs, in every case) to ensure there’s enough content.

I wrote a story but you didn’t reblog it!

If it didn’t violate any of our rules, we just might have missed it in the notes, or it wasn’t about monsters. Please feel free to tag us, or message a member of the mod team directly. :)

Will you post a story I submit to you?

Only if it’s a direct response to one of our prompts, and/or it involves monsters. We’re a monster prompt blog. :)

Do you have a masterlist?

We do! We have one for Fills and one for Prompts.

I don’t like something I saw posted, what do I do?

We can’t control what people post in response to prompts posted here, but we won’t ever reblog something that doesn’t fit the spirit of our blog, and we’ll never post prompts that go against our rules.

With the exception of our explicitly not allowed list, we abide by the “your kink doesn’t have to be my kink, and that’s okay” rule. The tl;dr version of this is “if it doesn’t violate the rules, but you don’t like it, just keep scrolling.”

If you feel it does violate our rules but it slipped through the cracks somehow, please send one of the mods a message, and we will help you out with it.

That’s it! We’ll update as needed! Have fun and get creating!

- Team Kink (AKA: @aelia-likes-monsters, @elizabethtarington, @hufflesmonsters, @monstersandmaw, @cozycryptidcorner, @demonsigh, & @thetravelerwrites)

#MKM Rules Post #MKM FAQ Post #MKM Announcements #MKM Mods #MKM FAQ #MKM Rules

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fandumb-thoughts · 5 years ago

Link

Rating: General

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Harry Potter - JK Rowling

Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Characters: Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin

Additional Tags: polyamory, poly trans Sirius Black, Hindi James Potter, animagus choosing, animagus, explaining why Peter is the Way He Is, marauders, fix it fic, start of a fix it fic, marauders era, Peter Pettigrew isn’t awful, that’s just the tea, well he is awful, only he’s not awful as a fifteen year old, cuz like, he’s just a kid, and he was one of their friends, ignoring that is ignoring the magnitude of the betrayal, Sirius has a shitty homelife, but it’s kinda background?, werewolves and shit, the war is happening in the background, domestic marauders

Language: English

Series: Part 1 of “Choices (are uniting)”, Part 1 of “A Hundred Divides (make a piece whole)”

~~~~~~~~~

Sirius was the first one to see his potential animagus forms.

He dreamt of a tree with bark that was blackened like coal. It was twisted, and gnarled, and rotted at the core. But above the tree sprouted young and pure leaves that shone through with sun and shaded the ground below.

There was a rabbit near the edge of the roots that was too terrified to move, erratic eye movements showing he was caught debating. Bolt and hope to outrun what endangered him, or hide in the roots and hope to avoid detection.

There was a snake that lay coiled at the base of the tree, half hidden in a deep hollow. His eyes glinted a familiar, unnatural blue-grey.

There was also a tiger, proud and lazy, dangerous claws glinting obsidian in the sunlight. He lay far away from any roots--away from the protection of the shade, farthest from the other creatures.

There was also a Grim, standing right before Sirius. Or rather, a large black dog that looked uncomfortably like a Grim. His eyes were blue-grey, like the snakes, but instead of unnatural it seemed rather more striking. As Sirius looked at him, he sat and wagged his tail, head tilting and tongue lolling from his mouth.

When Sirius awoke to Remus nudging him awake for breakfast, he debated on what he should say. Tell them he saw that he was still, somewhere deep down, part Slytherin? That part of him was skittish and terrified of what his future held, that some days he wanted to run and run and run and others he wanted to hunker down and weather the storm? That part of him was powerful but lonely, and content in the way it was? That the strongest piece seemed to be a loyal, obedient dog that took a rather uncoincidental appearance of a Grim?

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, bumping their shoulders and tangling their fingers together over the silverware.

Sirius fought the urge to pull away. There was no reason for him to get so flighty.

“Of course,” he said, stiffly.

Janmesh narrowed his eyes at him. Whenever Sirius was uncomfortable he reverted back to a very formal way of speaking, as had been ingrained in him. Shit.

“I just-I had the dream last night,” Sirius admitted. It was the final step to the animagus process, just in time for the full moon coming up in a week and a half. All there was left would be to choose, and then the transformations should be possible.

Janmesh leaned forward excitedly, nearly sparkling with excitement (or maybe that was just the water he’d shaken out of his still-wet-from-the-shower hair a minute ago, clinging to his skin). “Really? What did you see?”

Peter squeezed Sirius’ fingers, silently supporting him. He was sensitive like that, he understood that whatever Sirius had seen had shaken him up. It was a sweet gesture, just like Janmesh’s excitement was sweet in an entirely different way: it was a distraction. And Sirius loved ignoring his problems.

With a reassuring squeeze to Peter’s fingers he made an attempt to match Janmesh’s enthusiasm. “There was a tiger, a rabbit, a-uh, a snake, and a big black dog.”

Janmesh ignored Sirius’s stumble over the ‘my animagus form could be a snake,’ like a good friend/maybe-significant-other/whatever-the-fuck-they-are should do. “Really? Which called to you the most?”

“The dog was right in front of me, and seemed the friendliest.”

“You’ll have to focus on that when you go to bed tonight, then, and drink-”

“What are you talking about?” Remus asked, practically flinging himself onto the bench next to Janmesh, reaching blindly for the kettle.

“Divinition,” Janmesh answered casually, automatically pouring Remus a cup and pushing it into his hands so that he wouldn’t knock something over or burn himself. “Peter has a dream journal as an assignment this month.”

Remus mumbled something to indicate that he’d heard, too tired to continue the conversation. Sirius thought he ought to start studying before late at night, and go to sleep at a decent enough time so he’d be able to function before noon.

“Speaking of that, I’m going to be late,” Peter squeaked out. He was so terrible at lying it was cute. “See ya guys.”

Sirius twisted his neck so Peter could press a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing off to his first class. “Bye, babe.”

Janmesh grinned. “You’re so cute.”

“Fuck off, it’s better than being starry-eyed over someone who doesn’t even look at you.”

Janmesh placed his hand over his heart, and dramatically swooned into Remus. “How callous! You wound me!”

Remus elbowed him, knocking him to the floor. They both laughed. Remus glared through foggy, baggy eyes.

“C’mon, Moony, off to Runes for us,” Sirius prompted, leaning across the table to push a piece of buttered toast and bacon into Remus’s mouth before he could curse at him for interrupting his morning caffeine.

“See you in Charms!” Janmesh called after them. Lucky bastard, the Arithmancy classroom was closest to the Great Hall. Then again, Arithmancy first thing in the morning.

~~~

When Sirius fell asleep to the effects of the binding potion that night he thought of all of the options that had been presented to him.

The rabbit was the first thing to greet him.

“We’re scared,” said the rabbit. He had Sirius’ voice, but it sounded younger. Sirius’s blue-grey eyes seemed trapped within the rabbit’s face. “We’ve always been scared.”

Sirius nodded. It was true.

“It’s all we’ve ever known, for a long time. It’s comfortable.”

And it was comfortable, in a familiar sort of way. Sirius had grown up in his mother’s house, and his family’s world. He knew how to navigate it and avoid trouble, and how to run from it when he met it. It would be so easy to silently struggle and stay right in the position he’d been born into.

“I don’t want to be that person anymore,” Sirius told the rabbit.

“Very well.”

The rabbit vanished, and next there was the snake.

“We were raised to be this,” said the snake. His voice was smoother, refined in the way all purebloods were forced to be. Sirius’s eyes fit within the snake’s face but didn’t belong.

“I’m not a Slytherin,” Sirius protested. “I’m a Gryffindor.”

“That’s not the only indication of character,” the snake said. “We have it in us. We could do great things.”

Sirius could do great things within pureblood society. He was higher in line for lordship than any of his other cousins, aside from Alaric, and Alaric was a Prewett in name. The chances of the family magic claiming him as heir after his mother Lucretia were fairly low. It would likely go to Sirius’ father, and then Sirius if he hadn’t married out of the family at that point. He could have power. He could-

“That’s not who I want to be,” Sirius told the snake.

“Very well.”

The rabbit vanished, and next there was the tiger.

“We don’t need anyone else,” said the tiger. His voice sounded old and arrogant. Sirius’s eyes were wrong and disjointed in the tiger’s face.

“Yes we do,” Sirius argued.

If tigers could smirk, the tiger would be doing so.

Sirius wanted to squirm under his stare. He-he was self reliant, wasn’t he? The only people that knew even close to everything about him weren’t his friends, or even his boyfriend….s. It was his cousins and brother. In their own strange way, they stuck together. Even then the information shared was only enough so that everyone was able to get by in the strict way of living within their family and marriages and Hogwarts house. Sirius could shut himself down completely around his friends, and close himself off from his cousins and do things all on his own. No expectations to live up to, no rules to follow, free-

“I don’t want to be alone,” he told the tiger. He didn’t know if he fully believe even himself.

The tiger was judging him. He didn’t believe Sirius fully either, but it was Sirius’s choice to make.

“Very well.”

The tiger vanished, and next there was the Grim.

“We want things to be different,” said the Grim.

Sirius nodded, almost shaking with relief. All of the other options seemed to be rooted in staying right where he was, doing slightly different variations of what he was already being forced to do.

“No matter what happens, we need to go with our heart and stick with what we know is true,” said the Grim. His voice was Sirius’s voice. Sirius’s eyes were too intelligent for a dog, but they were fitting.

“Yes,” agreed Sirius, reaching to make contact with the Grim and bind his soul to him.

The dog stepped back. “There is danger in blind loyalty. Do you accept these dangers, know of them? Do you believe I am the best piece of you?”

Sirius thought of the rabbit, and the snake, and the tiger.

“Yes,” he answered honestly.

“Very well.”

~~~

Janmesh saw an elephant, and a squirrel, and an owl, and a stag.

He dreamt of a river bank, the water slow moving and vast, and a grassy bank. The sun made the water shine and the grass alight a vibrant green.

In the water was an Asian elephant, pouring water over himself with his trunk. He was powerful and proud, uncaring to the other animals about. He had no reason to worry, so he didn’t.

The squirrel scurried between the small trees and bushes along the water’s edge, making cheerful noises as he played, unheading of the predator that sat on one of the branches.

The owl ignored the squirrel. He was a barn owl, pale-moon face staring smugly down at Janmesh. He was above the rest, arrogant in his full view of the world.

Then, closest to him at the edge of the water was a stag. His antlers weren’t quite full grown, but they gleamed in the sunlight. He watched over the squirrel and the uncaring elephant and the arrogant owl. The cautious protector.

Janmesh woke up to Peter screaming.

He bolted upright and shoved aside the partially-opened drapes around his bed. Peter was knocked to the ground, a great black dog with gangly legs and too-big paws standing on top of him and attacking his face.

No, not attacking. Licking.

“Sirius!?” Janmesh cried out, elated. The dog leapt off of Peter and bounded up to Janmesh, tongue lolling out of his mouth, tail wagging.

“What in the bloody fuck is going on?” Remus growled, poking his head from his drapes, squinting.

“Oh, um-” Before Janmesh could come up with either an excuse or begin to explain that they had been attempting to become animagi since the past summer and had neglected to tell him as a surprise, Remus continued.

“Just get the dog out of here and let me sleep until I physically need to be up.” And with that Remus snapped the drapes closed.

“Dramatic,” Peter remarked in a whisper. Janmesh struggled not to laugh. Sirius-the-dog thumped his tail loudly against the bedpost. Remus let out an ominous growl.

“C’mon,” Janmesh told them and ushered them out of the dorm and up the boys staircase. The few early-risers gave Sirius some odd looks but decided not to comment. Upon reaching one of the empty rooms towards the top of Gryffindor tower, Peter locked the door behind them.

Sirius ran around the room, jumping and knocking into things. Janmesh had seen toddlers that were more coordinated, but at least Sirius could functionally move.

After three loops, he stopped and shifted back into his human form.

His very naked human form.

For all of five seconds Sirius didn’t seem to realize, so caught up in the excitement. “I did it! I did it firs-oh fuck.”

Peter covered his eyes with a squeak and a blush. It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen anything before (living in a room with each other for over four years would ensure that), however, it was very rare that it was Sirius being unclothed--even more so since he’d openly admitted to fancying all three of them.

Janmesh valiantly decided to pretend that nothing too-far from ordinary was happening. He wasn’t going to check his...maybe, almost boyfriend out, no matter how much he wanted to. He also wasn’t going to look away, making it blatantly obvious that he wanted to check him out.

“Might’ve been the first one to shift, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be automatically able to keep your clothes, mate.”

Janmesh forced himself to focus on Sirius’s face, which was tinting pink high along the cheekbones. Even though he didn’t look down, he could tell Sirius was twisting up to attempt to cover himself up.

“U-ha-um-”

Instead of waiting for a more intelligent response, Janmesh pulled off the nightgown he wore over the flannel sleep pants Remus had introduced to all of them (after years of having his stolen, Remus had just gifted them each two pairs last Christmas and James wore them nearly every night).

Sirius’ blush intensified as he took the offered garment, quickly pulling it over his head.

“He’s decent, Peter, you can stop being scandalized,” Janmesh teased, shoving at Peter.

“Yep,” Peter managed to say, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground.

Sirius wouldn’t make eye contact, either, just as red as Peter. Janmesh’s nightgown was too big on him, and it kept making attempts to slip down his shoulders.

“I had my dream last night!” Janmesh announced, perhaps a bit louder than he meant.

“Lucky,” Peter mumbled.

“What’d you see?” Sirius asked eagerly.

“An elephant, an owl, a squirrel, and a stag,” Janmesh relayed proudly.

Sirius frowned. “None of those would be quite useful against Moony, would they be? A stag would get eaten, a squirrel and an owl’d be too little, and the elephant would be a touch too dramatic.”

“Hey, the owl could, uh, could be lookout! And the squirrel would probably be good for getting through the Whomping Willow!”

“That’s actually a good idea,” Peter said. “Accuracy levitation is finicky, and it’d be a bit suspicious if any of the professors looked out and saw a stick hovering in midair.”

Sirius spun around Janmesh and Peter as he passed to get to the door. Janmesh attempted to will away the heat in his face at the reminder of how graceful Sirius could be when he wanted to, the aesthetic only intensified at the swirling of the borrowed nightgown.

“It will also be easier to fit two of us and a squirrel under the cloak, rather than trying to squeeze the three of us.” Sirius opened the door, and the collar of the nightgown finally slipped off his shoulder, exposing the sharp line of his collarbone.

“Huh-yeah!” Peter agreed, hurrying to follow. From his momentary stutter Janmesh knew Peter had likely noticed the same thing he had.

“Squirrel it is, then,” Janmesh confirmed.

~~~

That night Peter dreamed of a black bear, and a blue bird, and a rat, and a wild boar.

He was in a field of raspberry bushes. He couldn’t see the edges of it, but he knew that not too far away there would be a little stone cottage with painted blue shutters. It was his muggle aunt’s place, out in the countryside. The sun was weak, but still bright in the middle of the sky.

The black bear was eating from the bushes. He moved slowly and calmly from bush to push, rolling gate peaceful as it sought out more of the sweet fruit.

The blue bird sat on one of the bushes that had yet to be picked over by the bear. The berries on that particular were full and ripe and red. The bird was jealously guarding the bush from the other animals there.

The rat was hard to see, hidden in the underbrush. He ate the berries from the lowest branches and the ones that had fallen to the ground. They weren’t the beautiful berries from the blue bird’s bush, or the bountiful feast that the black bear had, but they were food and it kept him hidden.

The boar was paying no heed of the black bear, marching right in front of his path and interrupting him when the boar wanted the berries the most. Even the blue bird with his beautiful horde was not enough to stop the boar, though he did not attempt to eat from the bird’s bush, only around it. He was fearless, yet still respectful.

~~~

And here is the divergence. The moment that would define the rest of history--or, at least, the history of the four boys sleeping in the dormitory that night.

Either Janmesh Puther would choose with his head, or he would choose with his heart. The conversations with his animal pieces would go along a similar strain as Sirius Black’s had. Janmesh would be at the same stream as in his first dream, only he wouldn’t really know that, and the pieces would try to sway him to their side.

The elephant with freckle-spots around his eyes would tell Janmesh that he should reclaim his heritage of an ancient and powerful pureblood, to bask in the benefits of the Puther name.

The owl with heavy brown markings around his eyes would tell Janmesh that he was capable of great things, if only he stopped lowering himself.

The squirrel with pale spots around his eyes would tell Janmesh that the world was harsh and cruel, and he had people like his parents and Dumbledore to look out for him. He was still only a child, these things weren’t his to worry about.

The stag with large white marks around his eyes would tell Janmesh that he was in the best position to help his friends. He wasn’t the best duelist, and he wasn’t a genius, and he didn’t even know how to properly cheer someone up when they were unhappy, but he had the name and the wealth and the support that came behind it.

Janmesh would always reject the idea the elephant proposed. He was uncomfortably aware of the privilege he had over Remus and Peter and Lily and Sirius, in some regards. He wouldn’t ever want to ignore that.

Janmesh would instantly chafe against the owl’s suggestion, despite knowing, deep down, that if he were to mature some things could be going much differently in his attempts at wooing Lily and actually talking things over with Sirius. His parents would be less exasperated at his interactions with the rest of pureblood society.

To the squirrel, Janmesh might accept. It would be with trepidation, and the squirrel would make him hear out the stag first, but he would agree. Even if what the stag promised was true, it was not the correct choice for him. His friends need him to be a squirrel and he couldn’t be a stag, or else the very friend he was becoming an animagus form might try and hunt him.

Or, Janmesh might reject the squirrel. He would tell him that he didn’t want to live that way, with his head buried in the sand, that he had an obligation to his friends and if the squirrel wouldn’t allow it, he’d find another way to be there for them. In this version of events, Janmesh would immediately agree with what the stag was saying. He wouldn’t care what warning was issued with, just that he couldn’t live his life the way the squirrel wanted him to.

If Janmesh went with the squirrel, he would wake Sirius first by chittering loudly in his ear, and then wake up Peter in the same way. The three would go to the same empty room as the day before (this time with clothes for Janmesh in tow) and discuss the dream that Peter had.

If Janmesh went with the stag he wouldn’t have a choice on who to wake first as his young antlers would get tangled in the curtains and he’d nearly bring an entire bedpost down while clattering around. Sirius would be forced to explain to Remus why there was an animal in their room for the second morning in a row, inciting a disagreement that wouldn’t end until after the full moon.

If Janmesh went with the squirrel, the next night Peter would go with the wild boar. It had felt the most right to him. It was brave in a way that Peter had tucked way down deep inside, and not oblivious like the bear or jealous like the bird or scheming and afraid like the rat. Remus wouldn’t be woken up by his first transformation because he would have fallen asleep in the common room late the night before, and they would go with the plan to surprise him outside of the Shrieking Shack (in order, of course, to be sure that as a werewolf he wouldn’t attempt to kill them). The next day Remus would be furious at the risk but secretly touched.

If Janmesh went with the stag, the next night Peter would go with the rat. It would make the most sense, if they still needed a small animal, and Remus had shouted about how a dog and a stag was already enough attention, without a third giant animal in the mix. Peter wouldn’t wake anyone up with his transformation, he would sit on his pillow with some strange sort of forlornness that he couldn’t place, until Sirius pulled back the curtains to wake him and offered up a beaming smile at Peter’s accomplishment.

But these are just two possibilities, neither set in stone.

Janmesh had to choose, and his options were difficult, each weighed for their worth with the information that was known.

But choices, as everyone knows, have power.

#harry potter #choices (are uniting)#a hundred divides (can make a piece whole)#my fic #part 1 #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #polyamory #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders #james/sirius #peter/sirius #remus/sirius #hindi james potter #i carve validation and also have so many more fics planned out for this pls enjoy

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