#intervention au

[sarcastic-sketches]

Intervention AU: Better late than never

Chp.1 Word Count: 1.4k

The start-up fic related to my posts on Anakin being the Force equivalent of a wifi hotspot and people realising Anakin’s headspace is amplified spaghetti

Ever since the issue with Clovis on Scipio, Padme had been having a lot of thoughts, specifically about her marriage to Anakin. Yet, the very idea of separating with him only made her sad. This was the same man who was kind and joked with droids. Who was compassionate when people were hurting and passionate about those he wished to protect.

That was her husband, the man she would lose, and she wasn't willing to give up just yet. Even if she had untangle the chaotic mess of contradictory thoughts that was Anakin Skywalker's brain herself.

AKA, Padme confronts Anakin about his fears and he actually listens.

[Read in full on Ao3]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[cubbihue]

Vhnemdkjf purble irep! Can we see more fairy irep and anti-fairy peri?

Yup!! During their schooling, where the most amount of swaps happened, the two would end up swapping in more than just color palettes!

Sometimes Peri would get caught scheming and plotting Irep's demise (Revenge for Ruining his Science Project). Or Irep will get caught doing something very nice and wholesome for another Fairy (Helping a new student find their way around school).

Just as Anti Cosmo and Cosmo has a bit of each other's personalities mixed up, Peri and Irep has a bit of an overlap in behaviors, haha. They both love to monologue, for example. The more swaps a pair does, the more mixed they get!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Based on my last post

Yearning blast. hit post

[cardboardmoon]

Optimus had hammered in the necessity of staying hidden from the outside world. For their own safety, no one but the Autobots and their human family could know of them. They were instructed to stay away from Jasper during the day and not to do anything that would draw attention to themselves.

Two hours later, Thrash accidentally became the leader of 100+ sheep.

Inspo

(Doing a practice run on a simpler style so it’ll be easier for me to update during school)

[kupidachillea]

What Yandere I think Ancient Greek mythology boys would be.

TW⚠️ General Yandere behaviour, biting, manipulative behaviour, clingy behaviour…mentions of self harm (not reader). Read at your own risk⚠️

Achilles:

🏺- I feel like if Achilles was a yandere he’d be more akin to the typical yandere. Jealous, possessive…almost like a land mine

🏺- He’s protective of you and wants your attention…only your attention. I think that speaks for itself about how this relationship would go.

🏺- He’s not overly touchy, but in public.,he has this weird thing about ‘laying claim’ to what’s his and making everyone know it..even if it embarrasses you…he’ll caress you thigh openly in public among other…things… he also tends to squeeze you into his chest and he has a thing for biting- and boy does it hurt..if you don’t stop him at times..you’ll be bleeding by the end of it

🏺- If you’re at home- he wants you in his arms. You’re sitting on the sofa? He’ll put you in his lap. You’re lying in bed? He’ll jump on top of you. And he’s heavy- so good luck getting him off of you.

🏺- despite his concerning behaviour..he truly does care about you..in his mind..you’re the only one that matters. He wants you to be with him for as long as possible..and don’t even think about trying to break up with him..he’ll find you.

Patroclus:

🌿- Patroclus would be one of those yanderes that aren’t openly a yandere..he’s more docile and less explosive. Though- he still has those red flags.

🌿- He’s a manipulator. Especially if you’re a sensitive and emotional individual- he’ll exploit that. Gaslighting you at times and telling you “I know what’s best for you, darling”. Yeah..not really the best part of this relationship.

🌿- He’s more touchy than Achilles. He loves to have his face nuzzled into your neck whenever he can..breathing in your scent as he holds you in his arms. Letting out a content sigh as he kisses your lips tenderly..but don’t let that tenderness fool you..he’s still got a few screws loose.

🌿- He’s the type of yandere to act calm whenever someone is trying to hit on you in public..usually it’s when you’re not around is when he finds that person and either beats them half to death or worse..he use to be a medic and warrior..he knows more than one way to put people through pain. Though It’d have to be very bad for him to immediately clock to that mode.

🌿- He knows you’ll never leave him..how pathetic of you to try.,you keep running back to his arms anyway even if you do. He’ll break you as many times as he needs to have you in his arms..he’s patient.. and once you do come back..either in tears for just looking like a sad puppy..he’ll pamper you and stroke your hair as he kisses you lips and whispers how much he loves you.

Perseus:

🛡️- This is a bit tricky..He’s like…an enthusiastic yandere..that’s how I describe it. He has limits on how far he’ll go..but that doesn’t mean he won’t do certain things.

🛡️- He’s not explosive like Achilles and he’s not a big manipulator like Patroclus. He’s a bit chill. He’s the one that is similar to being docile but at the same time his yandere tendencies will seep out.

🛡️- He actually warns you what will happen if you do A, B, and C. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way..he just wants to have a loving relationship with you without any casualties. Occasionally he’ll get mad..but he’ll never take it out on you..never. Though..a few chains here and there can’t hurt..right?

🛡️- He loves to be with you..he’ll check on you at work.. on the street at home..any time really. He’s just trying to look out for you and makes his hit list anyway

🛡️- So far you’ve never had a problem with him..he’s not very overbearing..he’s smart in how he does things..you’ll never know what he does when you’re asleep..you’ve never considered leaving him..and he’d like to keep it that way..he wants to shower you with words of praise and devotion,

Orpheus:

🎼- Orpheus is what I’d call a clingy yandere. When he first met you..it took him awhile to fall for you but when he did and you both got together it was a done deal for him.

🎼- He’s so clingy..he doesn’t like to be anywhere without some physical touch involved. After losing his first love- he won’t lose you. He’ll never lose you..he’ll make sure of it.

🎼- He peppers your face with kisses in public that it makes even married couples jealous..dear lord. His words are sweet and filled with honey.

🎼- Sometimes he wishes he had the power to hypnotise you with his voice..so he could make sure that you’d stay with him forever..but I guess locking you inside will have to do..trapping you under his body as he cuddles you will have to be enough.. chaining you to the bed as you both sleep together is what he has to settle for…such effort.

🎼- Once when you tried to leave him, he literally got down on his knees and begged you to the point of tears to not leave him..he said how he couldn’t live without out you and how he’ll harm himself if you do leave him…you fell for his trap and stayed with him..having pity on this poor man. Perfect..he likes it when you break and ignore your better judgement for him.

[ceruleanterrapin]

Doodles I did on @phykoha 's magma last night

I was drawing till maybe 4am—

Bonus: Me getting roasted by Phy

[dramaticlacrosse10]

divine intervention chibis for the soul. my soul specifically,,, and maybe urs too,,,

[infinite-hearts-333]

THE INTERVENTION CHAP 4 (RAGE)

Huh. That’s odd- Whilst North is taking the ‘bad dog’ approach to Sunny’s predicament, a certain snow leopard makes an appearance! Zelda, still a little unwell and bearing the red veins from her recent attack during a mission, has arrived at the gym to look for her crew. The Beast however, does not seem happy about that, and has been flung into a RAGE and has started to charge to Zelda!

Other credits!

@north-heats-stronghold

@novalizinpeace

@fandomssvetlanafrom

AU belongs to @onyxonline

[aetherprism]

drew the son boy son my son

[sarcastic-sketches]

Intervention AU: Better late than never

Chp.2 Word Count: 4.8k Based on my Intervention AU this is the conversation that starts it all off...

It hurt her to see him look so defeated but she had to press on, regardless.

“I take it you understand what I want to talk to you about.”

He raised a hand to scratch an itch behind his ear, suddenly unable to bring himself to look at her. “I can guess.”

“I appreciate that you’ve been trying to give me space,” she started, her words slow as all of her years of negotiation and political debate experience fled her in an instant. “It has given me a chance to think all of this through and it has made me realise a few things. Things we need to discuss as we move forward together.”

Anakin blinked, his gaze that had previously fallen to the floor now rising to look her in the eye. He looked surprised, oddly enough, but did not speak.

Read in full on Ao3 [Complete!]

[protagaster]

Part 6 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

Sigh.....

These vignettes tend to average around 3,000 to 4,000 words. Not bad, if I have to say so myself. After all, Blue and I put a lot of work, time, and effort into trying to make these fics as amazing as we physically can.

But, this one...

Do you know how long it is!? 7,000 WORDS!

AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!

...

You're all lucky we love you guys so much! Here's an extra long chapter, just for being the amazing readers you are!

Editor/Co-Author/Sister in Sin: the one, the only, @somereaderinblue (GeminiWillow on Ao3)! Gods, how lucky I am to have you by my side!

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

Keep Your Friends Close

Penelope and her crew try to navigate the waters back to Ithaca, but a devastating storm threatens to capsize their fleet. In order to get through the storm safely, Penelope decides to take the chance and ask for the Wind God’s assistance. 

While Aeolus agrees to help, trapping the storm in a bag and tasking Penelope to keep it secured, the Ruler of Winds does not plan to make the task an easy one. Penelope is prepared to do whatever it takes to keep the bag closed, no matter what Aeolus tries throwing at her.

Little does Penelope know, Aeolus was not whom she needed to worry about… 

~

Penelope knew she didn’t have much time. 

The raging storm blocking her fleet from progressing toward their desired destination had momentarily calmed. The waters may have quieted, but the dark clouds and surrounding mist still obscured practically every view and path within their line of sight. 

Penelope knew that her only chance to get past the storm and make it back home with all her remaining women intact was to enlist the help of the divine, regardless of how well that turned out, or rather, ended last time...

Specifically, in this case, the God of Winds, Aeolus. 

Looking at the flimsy rope ladder that led to the Wind God’s cloudy kingdom, Penelope couldn’t help the tidal wave of emotions that flooded her heart and mind: determination, excitement, and ever-present anxiety.

Determination, for Penelope knew the only way to make it past the storm was with the Wind God’s help. The mortal was nothing if not resolute, willing to do whatever it took and say anything she needed to ensure the God lended them the necessary aid to make it back home. 

Excitement, because Penelope knew they weren’t far from home. With the Wind God’s assistance Penelope would soon be stepping foot on the moist, golden sands of Ithaca’s beaches, relishing in the comforts of a shelter supplied with a warm bed springing with life and delicious food with smells so delectable they could already be tasted, none of it comparing to the way she would melt in the very real embrace of her loving husband and beautiful daughter. 

However, much as she loathed to admit it, there was also that tiny sense of dread that threatened to overtake Penelope’s beautiful fantasy… 

Anxiety, taking into account all of Penelope’s past experiences involving the Gods during the past ten years. Hera, who ordered her to do something horrible under the pretense “lesser of two evils”, and Ares… 

Nope, Penelope thought to herself with a quick smack to her forehead, she couldn’t think about that right now. 

At this very moment, Penelope needed to focus on her crew and making it back home. As long as she remained focused, vigilant, and resolute, Penelope’s fantasy would soon become reality. She didn’t need immortality or even fame. Just her home, family and safety.

Letting out a deep breath, though not as steady as she would have preferred, Penelope took hold of the long rope ladder that led to the entrance of the lofty cloud domain. 

Unwilling to waste even a second, Penelope began to climb her way into the floating island that housed the ruler of the winds. 

Before she got too far up though, Penelope took the time to look down and give her sister a reassuring gaze.  

Meanwhile, back down on the deck of the main ship, Ctimene watched anxiously, arms wrapped around herself, as her captain climbed higher and higher toward the isle of clouds. From a god condensed into the feathery constraints of a vulture in disguise to a giant wooden horse and now this. Oh, what stories she’ll have to tell!

She was still held up about her and Penelope’s argument from moments ago, not at all a spat but certainly not something that would be considered a “friendly disagreement”. Ctimene knew it was wrong to publicly question the woman who was her captain, queen, sister-in-law, and best friend. Others who held even one of those stations have screamed treason and unforgiving betrayal for less.

Right here, out at sea, away from the comforts of Ithaca and outside the bounds of their husbands’ embrace, Ctimene and Penelope were all each other had. Especially now, with Circes no longer in the picture… 

Sure they had their crew, women who showed only the utmost respect and unwavering loyalty despite the difficulties they faced during the last ten years; first as a homemaker, then as a soldier. Sisters-in-arms, who all accepted their lives would no longer be their own upon accepting a God’s permission to bear arms and still choosing to learn the ways of the warrior to fight for their futures. 

But there was something different, something special, about the bond Penelope and Ctimene shared that couldn’t be emulated with the rest of the crew. 

Upon her arrival to Ithaca, the very first woman Ares and Penelope taught the ways of a warrior to was Ctimene, with Circes following shortly after. Heck, it even got to the point where Ares began to grow fond of Ctimene! Or, well, as fond as a timeless embodiment could be for a being who won’t experience even one-tenth that they have. Not as much as he did Penelope, mind you, but enough to where the God allowed Ctimene to accompany their personal training sessions and even let her see him when other mortals couldn’t. 

The point was, amongst Ares’ band of Ithacan female warriors, Penelope and Ctimene were the very first. She daresay they were mavericks even. Would it be hard to believe then, that the bond the two women shared grew to be much deeper than with any of their comrades? 

But now, after the deaths of those 72 women, Penelope had lost Ares’ favor. The crew wasn’t stupid, they noticed right away when Penelope lost her divine luster and ironclad confidence. Sure she still had her rigorous years of training, above-average physical prowess, and devastatingly cunning mind, but how long would they aid her until she was out of her depth? 

How long would Penelope be able to rely on her own mortal strength and wit, before her luck ran out and it cost them all? Before it cost them everything-

No.

Stop.

Ctimene exhaled a long, heavy sigh that left her body no lighter than before. She shouldn’t let herself linger on this, she scolded herself. 

Penelope is a good leader. 

That first year of war she led the kingdom well, better than Ctimene’s parents would have even without Odysseus by her side. Later, when the men returned so damaged that everyone thought they were beyond repair, it was Penelope who guided them and their loved ones toward a steady recovery; Ctimene remembered how thankful she was to her sister for this, for her brother and husband were slowly returning to their former selves, physically and emotionally. 

Even when it was revealed that the eligible women of Ithaca would be forced to fight in their husband’s steads, Penelope did not weep in fear as Ctimene and others did. No, Penelope raised her head high with her spear held proudly, declaring that as long as her female warriors listened to her they would have no need to worry for their lives. How easy it’d been to believe her, their queen who’d been born a Spartan princess and taken under Ares’ wing before she was a woman.

And she was right. 

Penelope led all 600 of her women through almost a decade of war with their lives intact. There were many scars and even more injuries, but not once was a pyre lit for an Ithacan soldier. Those 72, they were a devastating accident no one could have predicted. As long as they continued to listen to Penelope, the remaining 528 would be able to give them as proper a funeral rite they could given the circumstances. 

… 

Right. So long as the crew listens. 

So long as Ctimene listens.

~

After a few minutes of climbing Penelope found herself at a dead end. There was no more rope for her to cling onto, for the ladder ended underneath a giant white cloud. 

Squinting at where rough fibers met condensed vapor, Penelope noticed the ladder looked as if it were connected to the fluffs of wind themselves. 

Tentatively reaching a hand out, Penelope’s suspicions were confirmed when her hand reached into the cloud and grabbed hold of even more rope. Continuing her climb while phasing through gusts of wind Penelope soon found herself at the true end of the rope ladder, which was held down by a rainbow nail. 

Pushing herself up, Penelope was almost surprised to feel her feet land on a sturdy, swishing ground made entirely of cloud. Looking around, the mortal noticed several strange pieces of cloud-architecture building and toppling themselves after every few minutes, as if their creator was not satisfied with their appearance. 

Wait, their creator! The owner of this floating isle of clouds!

Penelope cleared her throat, a couple puffs of cloud flying out, before calling out her plea in a regal voice reserved for war councils and battlefields. 

“Great Wind God, Aeolus, I don't know if you know this but our path to home is blocked by an impenetrable storm.”

Penelope turned left to right, this way and that, hoping to find the enigmatic ruler of this island.

…

Nothing. 

Well, legends did account that Aeolus was one of the more… playful Gods, one of the many tricksters to grace the heavens. Perhaps they were waiting for Penelope to look for them, sort of like an every-day game of hide and seek?

If so, Penelope would just have to oblige. 

“I ask for your assistance, so we at last can go the distance,”

Penelope searched every corner of the cloudy isle, running to search through fluffy white architecture before it was toppled and gently parting large tufts of soft fog in search of the God. 

So far, still no luck. 

“Can you cast the perfect winds for us and aid our journey home?”

From the corner of her eye Penelope noticed one of the nearby clouds gently shake, as if something was hiding inside of it. Carefully, Penelope parted the foggy white clumps in hopes of it held the one she was looking for-

… 

Nothing? 

Penelope tilted her head, confusion evident in her features. She was so sure that she saw- 

POOF!

Penelope jumped back, startled when someone appeared out of nowhere inside that same parted cloud. 

The person looked as if they were one with the clouds themselves, their body made of the same airy substance. However, unlike the various clouds surrounding them, their body, robes, and waist-length hair would fade from white to a very light blue. Their eyes, glowing in place of pupils, were also colored this same shade. 

They had a triumphant smile on their face, like they were pleased with having “won” this little game of hide-and-seek.

“Ha ha ha!”

The deity sprung out of their hiding place, playfully flying around Penelope like a hummingbird.

“I am the wind, twisting and turning, I give the fire enough to stay burning.” 

This was Aeolus, God of the Winds. They looked Penelope up and down, scrutinizing every detail both physical and spiritual. They grinned, tapping thier cheek with a finger as an idea came to mind. 

“Let's play a game.”

“A game?” Penelope tilted her head. 

“That's what I'm serving.” Aeolus shrugged nonchalantly. “And if you win, you will get what you're yearning.” 

A game? Really? Is that really all Aeolus wanted in exchange for Penelope and her crew to safely tread the stormy seas? 

No, the Gods were never that straightforward (and she would know). Penelope just knew there had to be more to it than that. However… 

She DID vow to do and say whatever she needed to in order to secure the God’s assistance. The captain would just have to ensure she remained extra vigilant to this God’s antics. And, should Tyche be merciful, perhaps Aeolus would find better entertainment sooner or later.

“Deal.” Penelope said, holding her hand out to seal the deal. 

Aeolus reached out to shake the mortal’s hand, only to fake out at the last second and pull their hand away. Judging from the mortal’s reaction, she had not planned on the God committing such an action. 

Aeolus smiled, ecstatic to have tricked the human woman for a second time, before manifesting a plain brown bag into their hand. 

“Take a look right here at this bag.” 

The Wind God flew toward the ocean’s horizon in a blur of their namesake. They collected every single dark and gloomy cloud both nearby and in the distance as though they were naught but scattered drachmas, throwing them all inside the brown bag. Soon, the only clouds visible were those that were beautiful, light, and gentle. 

The God returned to float in front of Penelope, playfully shaking the now full brown bag. 

“It has the winds of the storm all trapped!”

Aeolus sealed the bag with a rainbow tie, plopping it right into Penelope’s hands as if it were nothing. 

“All you gotta do is not open this bag.”

Penelope tested the weight of the bag in her hands. Physically it was surprisingly light, as a cloud or gust of air usually is, but the weight of what it represented made up for its lack of density, turning into a heavy burden on Penelope’s shoulders. 

Something wasn’t right about this. 

The seal on the bag was secured nice and tight. Even if an accident occurs where she is forced to drop the bag or leave it outside of her hands, it wouldn’t be enough for the bag to open by itself. It needed to be opened willfully, by a pair of hands purposefully unsealing the rainbow tie. That was an easy enough task to accomplish simply on its own. 

Was the game Aeolus proposed truly meant to be such a straightforward one? 

Penelope looked up, masking her internal suspicion with a cockiness fueled by false courage.

“Sounds too easy, what's the catch?”

That mischievous glare in Aeolus’ glowing eyes sharpened, proving Penelope’s initial theory correct. 

“Ha ha ha!” 

Aeolus snapped their fingers, summoning a group of tiny adorable creatures that looked strikingly similar to the lotus eaters from before; these one though, instead of being covered with fuzzy dark fur, looked like they were made of little fluffy clouds ranging from the white of winter to the light blue of skies. 

These creatures collected individual puffs of clouds, stacking them atop each other and shaping each one into the rough form of a human woman. 

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus replied with a little teasing “boop” to Penelope’s nose. 

“Never really know who you can trust…” Their little cloud creatures chorused in unison. 

Chillingly, Penelope couldn’t help but notice how each one looked almost exactly like one of her crew members back on the main ship. The cloud-women ran simultaneously to ambush her, each one trying to grab hold of the wind bag. 

“If they wanna get the bag open, you gotta say ‘no, sir’.”

“Sometimes killing is a must.”

Penelope, after dodging each cloud-person and striking them to evaporation, paused and stared at that little tidbit. Suddenly, the cool air of her cloudy surroundings grew chilling.

“What?”

“'Cause the end always justifies the means.” Aeolus took Penelope’s hands and spun her playfully, deliberately ignoring her question. 

“Friends turn into foes and rivalries…” The creatures echoed in the background, almost mockingly. 

“So keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus gently pet Penelope one final time, akin to how a child would an adorable new pet fresh off the teat of its dame. 

The touch was not rough, but it made goosebumps shudder across her skin. Mortals were not meant to touch the clouds and vice versa it seems.

“Never really know who you can trust…” 

The combined words of Aeolus and their little cloudy companions echoed in Penelope’s mind as she returned to the rope ladder, continuing to take over her thoughts even while she climbed down those coiled fibers and inched closer to her waiting ship.

Whatever it was the God and their little minions tried to insinuate, Penelope hadn’t the faintest clue yet.

Never really know who you can trust…

Quicker than it took to climb the swaying ladder, Penelope soon felt her feet ground themselves from rope step to wooden floor.

The first to notice their captain’s reappearance were the two youngest crew members aboard the main ship (and even in the entire fleet): Pelagia and Erato. 

Pelagia, the shorter, slightly older, and more assertive of the two, was quick to notice the strange brown bag attached to Penelope’s hip, its rainbow string a shiny lure.

“Captain, what's happening?” Pelagia asked with a pointed finger. 

Erato, the tallest, slightly timid, youngest member of the entire crew, followed her best friend’s pointed finger and in turn noticed what she was staring at.

“What's trapped in that bag?” The two youngsters asked in unison, their combined interest bringing it to the entire main ship’s attention. 

Penelope had prepared for this on her way back down. 

The rules of her and Aeolus’ little “game” stipulated that they were to keep the bag open at all costs. As long as she informed her crew of this, of how important it was to never have it opened, they would be alright. 

“Something dangerous, friends,” Penelope took hold of the bag, trying to emphasize her point. “We mustn't lag-”

“It's treasure!” Aeolus’ little minions interrupted, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and floating aimlessly near the bag. 

The two words they spoke struck the entire crowd like thunder.

Penelope’s eyes widened as she slowly turned her head to glare at the cloud creatures. 

“What?” 

“Buh-bye!” The creatures disappeared, just like that. 

Of course… 

She should’ve known, she should’ve expected this…

Penelope could feel her heart quicken, every heartbeat rapid and faster than her blood and breath could follow. A cold sweat dripped from her forehead to the back of her neck, her occupied hand and throat closing instinctively tighter. 

This is what the Wind God meant by turning her plea into a game.

THIS is what Aeolus and the cloud creatures were warning her about with their cryptic words.

Proving her point, many crew members already began to approach Penelope about the mysterious bag. Pelagia and Erato, already in close approximation, tried to take hold of the bag kept in their captain’s rigid grip. 

“Open the bag.” Pelagia said.

“Let's see what you got.” Erato added.

Breaking out of her stupor, Penelope clutched the wind bag closer to her chest. 

“No, do not!”

Every crewmember approaching her halted, confused as to why their captain would react in such a manner. She clung to the bag more insistently than a newborn babe to their mother’s breast.

“Everybody listen closely-” Penelope’s entire demeanor was a serious one, her expression, tone, and posture as assertive and commanding as it would be back on her throne; if one had to specifically describe it, the closest comparison would be a mother scolding her children to keep them in line. 

Penelope lifted the bag high enough for everyone to see, pointing specifically at its rainbow string keeping it tightly shut. 

“See how this bag is closed? That's how it's supposed to be!”

She then gestured toward the horizon, forcing the crew to look at the clear blue skies and gentle ocean waves. 

“This bag has the storm inside! We cannot let the treasure rumor fly!” 

Aeolus’ little trick complicated things, a lot. Still, even with this wrench thrown at her, Penelope’s original plan had some standing! 

Her crew was a loyal one; they had proved it time and time again by heeding each one of her commands no matter how ridiculous or outlandish they may have seemed in the moment. They fought together, killed together, kept her and each other safe from men twice their size and thrice their strength with nothing more than cunning, stealth, and effective leadership. 

So long as they remembered this, so long as they continued to heed Penelope’s words, then Aeolus’ little “game” would end in victory. 

The crew seemed to have agreed, for the most part. 

“We'll try.” Pelagia, Erato, and some of the other women affirmed, albeit not too surely. 

The majority of the women returned to their positions, though some of them allowed their eyes to linger on the bag far longer than Penelope would have liked. The only one who didn’t was Ctimene, for she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the brown bag… 

~ The fleet of 12 ships continued to set sail and stay their course. Night after night, day after day, the weather stayed sunny and breezy whilst the water below remained calm yet strong. 

Aeolus and their wind minions (winions, as Penelope began to call them in her thoughts) continued to tread closely behind the Ithacan ships, eager to keep track of how the mortal and her retinue were faring in their little “trust exercise”.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus would coo from above, taking note of how weary and restless the women aboard the main ship were beginning to grow. 

“Never really know who you can trust…” The crew chanted as they rowed, this growing feeling of discourse spreading amongst them. 

“Never really know who you can trust…” The winions would repeat, as if affirming this feeling inside the crewmembers. 

Aeolus observed the way Penelope stood at the edge of her ship’s helm, looking over the ocean’s path and her sailing crew in timely intervals. As days continued to pass with the ships traversing closer and closer to Ithaca, not once did Penelope allow herself more than a couple minutes of shut-eye. 

Despite her earlier words, Penelope knew the dangers of temptation far too well. She just couldn’t risk letting herself fall into slumber, lest one of the others try and open the bag whilst she slept, if not out of greed then curiosity.

She couldn’t let herself grow compliant when they were so close to home yet still not there.  

“Now they wanna get the bag open so they can have closure…”

Aeolus, watching all of this go on from above, noticed how one crew member in particular would inch closer and closer everytime Penelope dozed off longer and longer…

“Sometimes sneaking is a must…” “Sometimes sneaking is a must…”

A few more days, a few more nights. The women would all take turns rowing, resting, completing the litany of chores a ship needs to stay afloat, rowing, sleeping and repeat the daily cycle. The only woman who did not allow herself the luxury of sleep or rest was Penelope, who still held the bag close to her chest. She barely even ate, unable to stomach anything and unwilling to risk having either hand occupied on the off chance another’s tried to touch the bag. However, it was clear to the crew how exhausted their captain was growing based on her sluggish movement and bagged eyes.

Aeolus couldn’t help growing excited, for they could feel the scales of their and Penelope’s “game” tipping in their favor with each time the sun rose then set. 

“Cause the end always justifies the means,”

The crew looked at their captain, unable to keep themselves from thinking of how much she’s changed since the conflict in Troy came to an end. 

Ctimene herself was the most critical of this change, especially considering the time in which it prominently began revealing itself. 

“Everything's changed since Circes, so-”

Aeolus relaxed against their bed of clouds, gazing into the horizon a few dozen klicks away from where the ships currently sailed. From where they lay in the sky they could see a beautiful island filled with sandy beaches, luscious greenery, and a stunning palace waiting not too far in the distance. 

Still, the Wind God wasn’t worried. This right here was the climax of their little “game”, and everything exciting always happens near the end. 

Doubt, wariness, exhaustion, and the need to satiate always made for one delicious recipe of disaster.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Never really know who you can trust…” 

“Never really know who you can trust…”

Back down to the ocean, on the main ship leading the other 11, the captain of the fleet definitely looked like she had seen better days. 

Penelope’s hair was frazzled, tangled and sticking up from where it was tied back. Her modest sailor’s tunic and skirt, fitted in consideration for her feminine physique, was wrinkled haphazardly with no consideration for appearance; even her sandals were not tied as neatly as they should have been. Worse of all was her face, for her beauty turned haggard under days worth of neglect and dark eye bags weighed her once keen eyes. 

Penelope, despite her obvious need for sleep, did all she could to keep herself awake. Everything ranging from pacing and slapping her cheeks to talking to herself and singing to the waves like a madwoman. Some of the phrases she said here and there were coherent enough for the others to hear, but Penelope was so deep in her fatigue that she couldn’t even discern half the things rolling off her tongue at that point. 

Right now, inside this liminal state of paranoid awareness and sleep-deprived tiredness, it was curiously the moment Penelope found herself to be completely conscious despite her exhaustion. 

“For nine days I've stayed wide awake, trying to make it home with no storm or tidal wave,” 

Penelope looked down, just in case her body’s sensation of touch had betrayed her. Sure enough, the bag of winds was still tucked safe and securely inside her arms. From an outside perspective, it looked like she was hugging it. 

“I remain unopposed, the bag is still closed, and I'm getting closer to you…”

Penelope shut her eyes. Only for a second, she told herself. 

While her eyes were shut Penelope felt a familiar warm breeze, the gust smelling of sand and freshwater, caressing her cheeks; she could smell Ithaca’s signature foods and hear the island’s melodious tunes, so close and detailed it practically felt like she was already there. 

Reopening her eyes, Penelope found she was no longer leaning against the mast of her ship. Instead, she was standing before the entrance of one of her most favorite places in the entire kingdom: the royal bedchamber’s outside balcony. 

The handmade wooden doors, bleached white and carved lovingly, opened on their own to display what was outside. 

There he was, only an arm’s length away, leaning against the balcony’s railing.

His back was turned whilst he looked out over the ocean’s horizon, donning the casual robes he only wore for private lounging and sporting the leather brace meant to bring relief to his shoulder, something he only put on in the presence of those he trusted. His dark wavy hair swayed with the wind’s breeze; his tanned skin, slightly darker than his wife's, shined warmly against the sun’s golden beams. 

He turned, his earth-toned eyes meeting her watercolored ones. 

“Odysseus…”

Her husband’s name was music to Penelope’s ears, sounding like a soothing lullaby.

Penelope couldn’t help but let herself get lost in his eyes, deep browns that displayed an intense combination of intelligence, kindness, and adoration. Those eyes, the very first thing that drew her to Odysseus back when they were only teenage acquaintances, had the same effect on her now as they did 16 years ago. 

His lips split into a smile, small and soft and comforting with everything it offered. It was just like Penelope remembered it, exactly what she longed to see after being so cruelly taken away from him for almost a decade. 

There really was no doubt about it; even though he had inevitably aged, the same as any mortal after such a long stretch of time, Odysseus would no doubt be even more gorgeous now than he was 9 years ago…

Penelope slowly let her guard down simply because of his mere presence. 

“I can't wait to resume our happiness…”

A little girl suddenly appeared by Odysseus’ side, one whose hair and eye color strikingly matched his. She shyly held his hand while looking up at Penelope, her bashful smile somehow a perfect combination of the husband and wife’s. 

Penelope knew right away the identity of this little girl. It was her baby, no longer an infant of one year but a child of ten. 

“Telemachas…”

Penelope let out a serene sigh upon hearing her daughter’s name, her heart soaring with utter bliss. 

Telemachas’ little details, like her facial features and the length of her hair, would change shape every once in a while. Sometimes she would adopt more of Ody’s characteristics while other times she took more after Penelope’s attributes. However, this did nothing to frighten or deter Penelope; if anything, it did the exact opposite. 

After almost an entire decade of being torn apart by order of the Gods, Penelope would finally be reunited with her greatest and more precious treasure. No more would she have to fantasize about the face her little girl grew into, for soon enough she would be able to see and memorize every real detail with her own two eyes. Would she have moles? Freckles from the sun? Scars from accidents? Dimples on her cheeks?

Soon, they would be able to do everything Penelope fantasized about doing with her daughter: navigating the trials of womanhood, teaching her to fight as a warrior, simply doing what they enjoy, whether it be weaving, swimming, singing, or some other lovely activity, as long as they were by each other’s side…

Oh, how lovely it all sounded.

“Time for me to be the mother I never was!” 

Odysseus and Telemachas approached Penelope, her husband wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a steady, gentle embrace while her daughter carefully pried her clenched fingers open and placed their hands atop each other’s.

‘Just keep your eyes open…’

Penelope tried to lean into Odysseus’ embrace, tried to intertwine her and Telemachas’ fingers, only for her family to slowly distance themselves from her presence.

Penelope’s heart sunk as her family moved farther and farther away from her at such a fast rate. She tried to run back to them, wanting nothing more than to return to that embrace. However, Penelope suddenly felt her body, heart, and even her very spirit grow heavy with… something.

Whatever it was, it turned her into an anchor, slowly sinking to the bottom while her husband and child disappeared out of reach like driftwood.

“Why are my eyes and my heart and my soul so heavy?”

Looking back up at them, Penelope saw that the contentment on her Odysseus and Telemachas had been replaced with worry, unease, and bone-deep anxiety. 

But of what, Penelope wondered nervously.

‘Just keep your eyes open…’

What is it, Penelope thought raggedly as her breath grew short and her lungs burned, what was making them so nervous that they moved farther away with every step she took to reach them? 

What was keeping them so far away even when they were already so close to each other? 

“I keep on trying to embrace you both, why won't you let me?”

‘Just keep your eyes open…’ Her family answered in response, concern so very evident in their tones.

But of what?

…

Wait …

Peneleope felt her thoughts quickly derail; bated breath, welling eyes, and a cold sweat quick to follow. 

Was… 

Was it Penelope herself? Was she the thing they were so afraid of…

But-

That…

That can’t be it! It just can’t!

They didn’t have anything to worry about! Penelope is still the same woman she was before that fateful day 9 years ago!

Even if Penelope has done things over the last decade she was not proud of, things that will haunt her to the Underworld, said things she wished she could take back, and watched helplessly as others who didn’t deserve to lost their lives, none of it defined who she was! 

She was still Penelope, strong yet wise, stubborn but patient, daring and still careful! The very same woman who stuck by her ideals no matter how hard it was at times.

“So much has changed but I'm the same!” Penelope cried desperately, believing wholeheartedly in her words. Because they were true…

Yes, yes that’s right! Her words did ring true!

Right now, at this moment, this one single instance that marked the possible end to her journey, Penelope, exactly as she was the moment she left Ithaca, would be the same one to once again set foot in her home!

And this Penelope would never let herself become a monster. 

“Yes I'm the same!”

Penelope, with brand new resolve, was able to take the steps she needed to finally be within reaching distance of the two loves of her life. Just one more step and they would be in each other’s arms once more…

‘Just keep your eyes open…’

One. 

More.

Step… 

Just keep your eyes open…

Penelope collapsed, that last step impossible to take on her own. However, she did not fall to the ground. Instead, she landed inside the firm embrace of Odysseus’ arms. 

“...wake up…” 

Penelope’s vision grew blurry. Looking up, she was just barely able to make out Odysseus’ face.

Wait a second… 

Penelope squinted her eyes, unsure if they were deceiving her. Why were his eyes so wide and full of panic-

“Wake up!”

Odysseus suddenly gripped his wife’s shoulders, his expression frantic and voice filled to the brim with raw desperation. 

“Penelope, they're opening the bag, WAKE UP!”

Penelope’s eyes, her real ones in the real world, snapped open. She threw herself up into a sitting position, no longer laying against the mast…

Wait. Closed eyes… laying against the mast…

Oh no…

No. No. No. No. No. No…

BY THE GODS NO! 

She- she let herself sleep! Penelope let her guard down!

She looked down at her hands and arms, praying by some miracle that it was still in her possession. But it was just as she feared…

The wind bag was gone. 

Penelope looked up. A crowd of 6 women had gathered themselves in a circle. 5 of the women Penelope could tell right away. The 6th, though, had hidden herself in the center, away from the line of sight of anyone outside the circle. 

The only thing Penelope could see, in between the wall of 5 women, was the sixth holding a very familiar brown bag. The mystery crewmate used two fingers, her index and thumb, to gingerly take hold of the rainbow string keeping it sealed…

“NO!”

Penelope threw herself to her feet and tried to run toward them. There was still time, she could still make it home if she just kept them from- 

Something yanked Penelope back. Looking down, the captain saw that one of her hands was tied to the ship’s mast. It was right then and there when Penelope realized, with a deep sense of dread, that they had planned this.

Every single woman looked in the captain’s direction once they heard her cry out in agony. This included the circle of women currently in possession of the bag. 

But it was too late. 

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” 

The rainbow tie came loose.

Within the very next second, Pandora’s box had unleashed upon the crew. 

Never really know who you can trust…

Never really know who you can trust…

Clouds, big and wet and stormy grew, spilling instantaneously out of the bag to return to their rightful place in the aegean. The soft gentle winds from before became harsh and heavy. The waves below grew rapid and restless, becoming even more perilous as the rain spilling from those dreary clouds added to the strength of the ocean below. 

Storm…

The combination of high winds and treacherous waves forced the fleet to halt their movement forward. And then, with no warning, the 12 ships began to sail backwards.

That’s right. At such high speeds that the fleet would have appeared as a blur to anyone on the outside, the ships sailed further and further away from home and headed to an unknown destination. It would not have been too unreasonable, at that moment, to assume the ships could compete in a race against the Messenger Gods themselves. And win. 

Full speed ahead…

Aeolus, for the first time since they issued the challenge nine days ago, descended upon the fleet of ships. They wore a smile, an eerie, menacing, foreboding one. 

Despite her difficulty maintaining balance over the uncontrollable swaying ship, Penelope managed to steady herself just enough to make her way over to her ship’s top deck and stare face-to-face at the Wind God.  

“Where's the storm taking us?!”

Aeolus giggled, cruel and childish, as they stared down at the mortal being trying desperately to regain control of the situation. 

“I said to keep the bag closed, but you weren't compliant,” Aeolus blew a kiss at the fleet, the addition of their personal winds forcing the ships to somehow go even faster than before.

“If I had to guess? You're heading to the Land of the Giants…”

Soon, it did not take long for even Aeolus and their winions to no longer be within sight. 

Storm…

At the speed they were going it would have been impossible for any of the women to point out or distinguish any landmarks that would have helped them find their way back. 

Storm…

Immediately, Penelope realized it was the cannibalistic Laestrygonians that Aeolus referred to as the final destination of their strom-fueled ships.

If they ended up arriving at their intended destination, there would be no doubt the lives of her entire crew would be lost.

Penelope needed to stop the ships from getting there! But how… 

Penelope looked around frantically, trying to search for something that could help. 

No islands or land anywhere nearby that could block the ships’ paths, she doubted their anchors were strong enough against a God’s handmade storm, no amount of rope, whether it be the numerous amounts of brown coiled thread stacked against each other in the corner or rainbow string, would do anything against the sto-

Wait, rainbow string?! 

Penelope immediately returned her eyes to the ship's floor. Right there, laying discarded against the ship’s wooden floorboards, was the rainbow string that held the power to keep the bag securely tied in the first place. 

Whoever opened the bag had not realized its importance, evident from how they tossed it aside once it no longer appeared useful. 

Penelope grabbed the string before making a run for the bag, which was still spilling its windy contents into the sky and adding more clouds to the barrage. 

Ctimene, who was trying to steady their ship’s sails, who just so happened to be only a few feet from where the bag had opened , watched as Penelope forced herself to inch closer to it using all her mortal strength. 

Despite the bag’s winds trying to keep her away, Penelope managed to successfully get as close as she needed to. Kneeling down to better reach the bag’s opening, all the while devastating winds threatened to rip her face off her skull and her hair from her scalp, Penelope wrapped the rainbow string around the flaps of the bag and tried her damndest to close it once more. 

However, trying to close the bag alone only ended in failure with each attempt. The captain, knowing she couldn’t do this alone, looked around for something or someone that could help keep the bag steady enough to close. 

No one could have missed the quick sigh of relief she let out when meeting Ctimene’s gaze. 

“Help me close the bag!” Penelope ordered her sister. 

“But ma’am, it's too late.” Ctimene answered instead of acted. 

Penelope, while still trying to close the bag with her own meager strength, glared at her second-in-command in response to her question.

“We can save whatever wind is left to use another day! Come on!”

Ctimene, finally realizing her captain’s intention, wasted no time and sprung herself to action. 

The sisters worked together to quickly close the bag: Ctimene used her immense strength to keep it steady despite its overwhelming power while Penelope wrapped the string tightly around the bag’s opening. Once she was sure it was nice and secure, Penelope pulled on both ends of the string. 

The open flaps of the bag shut in unison with the rainbow string’s pull. 

Just like that, no more were the winds stronger than their sales. The ships halted in place, no longer driven by the forces of nature. The dark, stormy clouds that had infested the skies quickly dissipated. Though not as blue and clear as it was moments ago, as light-gray clouds still littered the sky and continued to spill a light drizzle of rain, it was definitely an improvement compared to before. 

However, there was something still off with the waves below; they weren’t as treacherous as they had been whilst in the middle of the divine storm, but something was still making them uneasy, raging… 

None of the women noticed this yet. 

Every single crew member, both on the main ship or one of the other 11, let out a much needed deep breath. She would either have a hand placed over herself, hovered over the body part of a nearby friend, or was performing a combination of the two. 

Penelope and Ctimene were no exception to this. 

The captain and her second in command had not parted from the other’s side since completing their objective. Penelope had one hand over her knee to maintain balance, the other placed carefully in front of Ctimene’s torso to keep her sister from toppling over while the ship immediately steadied. Ctimene, in turn, had a hand placed over her chest to forcibly relax her breathing, with the other placed firmly on Penelope’s shoulder to keep the other secured after everything that just happened. 

While catching the breath escaping from her lungs, Penelope assessed their surroundings to devise a quick game plan in her head. Things obviously didn’t go as planned, that was for sure, but hope hadn’t died just yet!

The first thing they would have to do is figure out where they were! Though nothing looked particularly familiar in any direction she gazed, it was likely that with a little sailing they would be treading recognizable waters in no time!

Next, Penelope would have to find a way to gather resources that served both as sustenance and maintenance (no doubt the ships took quite the beating after being navigated purely by wind and wave). She would need to be careful, especially considering what happened last time they looked for sustenance, but as long as she remained vigilant and logical it should all be okay! 

Sure the “plan” barely counted as a plan to begin with, not to mention the “simple” tasks were anything but. Still, even if it sounded daunting at first, Penelope knew as long as each of the 528 women worked hard and did her part they would have nothing to worry about. 

As long as nothing else happened, they would be able to set course back home as if nothing happened in the first plac-

“Penelope of Ithaca!” A woman’s voice, deep, angry, and very much powerful, yelled out from the deepest depths of the sea herself. 

Penelope’s breath stilled, her blood running so cold for a moment she thought herself to be a corpse. 

That- that was her name, wasn’t it? 

Her and more than 500 pairs of eyes turned towards the direction of that voice. Penelope saw a pair of glowing blue orbs hidden within a cloud of foggy mist. 

The unnaturally choppy waters were much more noticeable now… 

“Do you know who I am?”

[auspicioustidings]

The Gentle Duchess

Blue Blood Part 4

Summary: Continuation of the Blood Druid. Johnny finally teaches you about the things you want to know.

Word Count: 3.3k

CWs: Smut, just shameless smut (which I am still a beginner at so my sibling in Christ temper your expectations)

“Aye, I can teach ye. Good students dinnae yell at their teachers like that though, dae they? I ken ye’ll have been raised with all sorts of those nice gentle manners, so ask again nicely hen” Johnny said, looking down at you sat on the bed with no end of heated mischief in his eyes. 

You had been raised with those nice, gentle manners. You had a reputation as such, the Gentle Duchess who was rarely ever seen at social events but always mild tempered when she did appear. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Powerful father so a decent prospect for marriage, no brothers. You had been ok with that, it wasn’t a bad thing to be known for being gentle. But right in this moment you understood the call to bloodlust that men at war held. You wanted to strangle this strange creature.

“Good teachers do not tease their students sir” you replied, curt and proper. 

Something of an animal came across him when you had called him sir. You had meant it to be mocking, anyone of good breeding would know it was an insult being said in such a tone. But it affected him in some way that was frighteningly exciting. 

“Ye want tae know whit it’d really be like if I wis teasing ye my lady?” he replied, voice seeming deeper now, the last two words coated in syrup. 

He had leaned forward, putting his hands to either side of you and caging you in. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a confusion in your blood, fighting to rush to either your cheeks or between your legs. Johnny watched in delight as you naturally leaned back, not even realising you were doing so until you were braced on your forearms, him continuing to follow to stay right in your space. 

It was delicious watching you rebel for what was probably the first time in your life. He had met many women from the nobilities of these silly little Kingdoms, none quite as sheltered as you. And yet there was such a fight in you wrestling to get out. He knew it had always been there, knew that this was destiny for you to fall into their laps. He would bring out that fight, let you sharpen your nails on his skin and whet your teeth on his blood. 

“Perhaps you should reevaluate your surety that you could truly tease me” you said, trying your best to emulate the way you heard the vipers of different social events speak. Polite in the most cutting of ways. 

“Such a sharp tongue on ye” he grinned, putting a firm hand to the centre of your chest and giving one strong push.

With a soft oof you found your back on the bed, arms no longer holding you up. He readjusted, bringing one knee to rest on the small space at the edge of the bed between your legs and bracing one hand beside your head. The other he brought to your lips, two fingers bullying their way past to massage at your tongue. 

“Cannae believe such a pretty wee mouth would gie me such an attitude” he cooed.

Your head may have been getting a little hazey, the sink into that floating space you had discovered this past couple of days feeling imminent, but you steeled yourself. You bit down, feeling a little satisfaction when he hissed and pulled his fingers away, shaking them out. Johnny was indulging you a little, he knew your bite had been controlled, gentle. You didn’t have it in you just yet to try to hurt him. He wondered if you ever would, but he thought it might be a good thing that your nature was more to be docile and gentle. He was more than sure he could push you to be mean, but for Simon a gentle love would be perfect. 

“If you are not going to teach me, then I would prefer you go and play with someone else.”

“You bit me, feral wee thing.”

You tried to stop from going bright red, not able to stop it. Feral wee thing. You had never dreamed anyone would even have a passing thought to think of you in such a way. It made you feel a rush of heady satisfaction. Is this how a pampered cat must feel when it finds cause to sink its claws into something? The reminder that under all those frills and laces and poise there was still a predator?

There was a desperate want in you. Oh how you wanted and wanted and wanted. You wanted to bite him again to see him hiss, you wanted him to bite you so you could feel the sting. You wanted him to touch you. Oh Gods you wanted to touch him. You wanted to stop fighting and beg to touch him, show him how gentle and compliant you could be and have him coo sweet praises at you for it. You wanted to fight and fight and fight until he forced compliance out of you. 

Johnny could see you at odds with yourself. He was pushing you he knew, probably too far too fast. How irresistible a temptation it was when it flushed you so, had you erratically grinding down on his knee without even realising it. Had your hands fisting the sheets, white knuckled in an attempt to keep from losing control and touching him. Touching yourself. Fuck, the little whine that had left you unbidden at his words had him painfully hard. 

But there was another feeling aching away in his chest. His brothers in arms were 3 men he loved fiercely, he would call down the Gods to burn the world for them. Simon Riley especially. The man who had understood what it was like to be looked down on. When Johnny had first let Gaz talk him into joining the Duke’s little team, he had only done it because he thought the Prince was a bonnie thing he wouldn’t mind corrupting and because he wanted to see more of the world. It was Simon who noticed the way people would treat him. Like some untamed savage.

He enjoyed it for the most part, but it got lonely after a while to have everyone be scared of you. And then the big eejit in a mask had started dragging him to spar with the other soldiers, had goaded him into bantering little arguments at dinner where the servants in earshot could hardly hide their laughter, had told fantastical stories to wide eyed children about how Johnny’s homeland had cù-sìths and kelpies and unicorns and all sorts of magic bubbling away that had them constantly bothering Johnny to tell them all about it. He admitted he enjoyed telling them all about his home, treating them with ghost stories and tales of grand adventure.

It was only when he realised all at once that the people around here smiled at him in greeting that he had been fully aware of Simon’s cleverness and quiet care. The man was a monster on the battlefield, but so few saw that he was also fiercely loyal and he protected those he considered his. Looking at you, knowing that soon he would be giving you to the man who so fully deserved you, had his heart singing. 

You would so perfectly compliment him, be the gentle place his heart could rest. Johnny felt such a rush of love for you then, the same warm light he got when communing with his Gods. He sent up a quick prayer, a thank you for sending you. 

“Your aroused wee yin, that’s what this is.”

“What?”

“Ye wanted teaching naw?” he said, steady and encouraging as the bitten hand was placed on your waist, giving a warm squeeze. “This feeling, it’s arousal. This divine wee body wants touching, needs something inside.”

You heard your little noise this time, a startled note. You had tried to put your finger inside, it had felt foreign and uncomfortable. The Prince and the Duke hadn’t… well there was the Duke’s clever tongue. It made you see stars. Did it need to be a tongue? 

“I tried that” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes out of shame.

You jolted when he pressed his lips against your jaw, kisses peppering over you and down to the neckline of your dress. The hand at your waist dragged leisurely down, rucking your dress up to your thigh before pausing there. He pulled his lips away.

“Look at me please.” 

He had asked so achingly sweetly that you had little choice in the matter, meeting his eyes. He was different somehow, no less intense but the intensity was different. Softer in a way that was terrifying for a reason you couldn’t name. 

“Fuck. Tha thu bòidheach” he said, almost breathless. 

“I don’t…”

“Let me touch ye. Let me show ye how to feel good.”

Gone was the teasing, he seemed so sincere now. And he wasn’t pushing you either, the hand on your dress paused. With the others there hadn’t been anytime to really think about it. You had been overwhelmed with sensation. But now he gave you time, gave you a quiet moment to decide if this was something you wanted of him. And still, still you wanted.

“...please” you whispered, not even sure if the word was audible.

“Ok mo leannan, I’ve got ye. Going tae undress you.”

And undress you he did, achingly softly, until you were bare on the bed. He moved you with gentle touches to be fully laid out so he could straddle you and press his forehead to yours with an affectionate headbutt that made you scowl and butt him right back, causing him to chuckle lightly and nuzzle on you.

“Still my feral wee thing.”

He started trailing kisses from your jaw again, this time not meeting any fabric to stop him from continuing down to the swell of your breasts. His hand was firm on your stomach keeping you pressed down into the plush bed as he swirled his tongue around one of your nipples. Your body tried to arch without your permission and you nearly choked on your own saliva at the sharp gasp of pleasure escaping your lips. 

“I… I can feel it between my legs. Ah! I-it’s like there is a path between them” you rambled, trying to fight against the urge to just lose yourself in the sensation so you could understand.

The wet pop of his mouth leaving you was obscene.

“Aye, to here” he said, hand coming to cup you. “Lots of names people call this.”

“His highness he- oh Gods I don’t- c-cunt! That’s what he called it.”

“Fuuuck. Never sounded so pretty a word before now. Whit did his royal pain in the arse call this then?” he asked, finger delving in to press at your clit.

“He called it my clit. Please!”

“Come on wee yin, use your words.”

“I - I don’t know!”

It was driving you wild, his fingers just sitting there pressing. Not moving. You were trying to wriggle as best you could with his other hand still holding you down, trying to get anything. You thought you might cry.

“Aye ye dae. Dinnae be a brat, tell me whit it is ye want.”

You lashed out, small hand grabbing at his hair and sharply pulling as you bared your teeth at him. You hated being called a brat and he had done it twice now. You were a Duchess, demure and proper. If anyone was being a brat it was him. He brought this out in you, this beast. If he was so determined to act like it was somehow you being the problem here then he could do something about it. Oh, wasn’t that a thought that got your blood hot.

“Move your fingers. Use your tongue. Do something!”

His pupils were blown out and he was panting like a dog at the little attack, baring his teeth right back with a feral grin. 

“I’ll allow it my lady, jist this once. After ye get married, ye try that again and I’ll bend ye over and fuck your arse silly while the Prince eats out your cunt. Ye’ll be begging for us tae let your husband come take whit’s his by the time we’re through with ye.”

You didn’t fully understand, but it made you want to fight even more nonetheless. He still wasn’t moving his damn fingers. Deliberate of course on Johnny’s part. He had really thought he could be slow and loving with you, but he adored you spitting mad like this. You were so haughty, refusing to beg him pretty. He knew that Simon and Price would probably spoil you completely, it would be him and Gaz who would work you up like this, get you fighting.

“You insufferable man! I will not beg anything of you” you snapped, yanking him down so you could kiss him.

It was a battle more than anything, all tongues and teeth. The sounds were lewd and you did not care, only relishing in a small victory when he had to move his hands from between you to balance himself and you could wrap your legs around him, rolling your hips to get that friction he should have just given you in the first place. He moaned loudly into your mouth and you felt a hard length pressing into you beneath the heavy fabric of his kilt. It startled you enough to loosen your grip on him, allowing him to pull his mouth from yours, both of you panting and staring at one another.

“Did Gaz teach you the name for it?”

“He… I think he touched it, but he wouldn’t let me see.”

“Selfish Prince hm?”

Your legs tightened around him when he went to move off of you, not understanding. He gave your neck a small nip with his teeth which made you yelp and he used the distraction to pull away and stand. You turned to your side to look up at him in what you had wanted to be anger, but was more akin to looking like a kicked puppy. When he started to unwind the fabric covering him, you watched with fascination. 

You could not look away from the heavy weight between his legs, hard. He wrapped his hand around it and you saw that it was leaking, his thumb catching on that liquid to slick himself up.

“Cock gets hard like this the same way that pretty cunt gets all wet,” he said, fist continuing to pump slowly. 

“May I…?”

You weren’t sure how to ask exactly, but your curiosity had cooled some of your fight. You wanted to touch him the way he was touching himself, see what it felt like. You swallowed thickly, salivating with the image of putting your tongue on him. Would it feel for him the way the Duke had made you feel? He held his hand out to yours and when you took it guided you to hold him. 

It was velvety, hotter than you thought. Sticky. His low moan made your bones rattle. You could die to hear him do it again. You shifted forward to taste it and the noise you were rewarded with made you believe in his old Northern Gods. 

“Fuck, pretty little tongue feels perfect. You’re perfect” he groaned. 

For some reason those two words made you squirm far more than any filth that he could have come out with. He carded a hand through your hair and moved your head back from him, groaning.

“Turn around mo leannan.”

You didn’t follow the instruction immediately, confused and stubborn. But you didn’t resist when he just took your body and turned it as if you weighed nothing to him. You were laid on your side facing away from him and his body joined you, chest against your back. His arm landed heavy on your hip, hand coming around to finally touch you like you had wanted. 

“Touch yourself the way I’m doing, I’m going tae move my fingers to put them inside. Need ye tae relax.”

You wanted, you wanted, you wanted. If he was going to give you what you wanted then you could do what he said without complaint, fingers bumping against his sweetly as you took over. He readjusted your legs, pushing his cock between your thighs making you moan at the heat of it. When he was able to rut slowly he finally dropped his fingers to your opening, pushing one inside.

It felt different to when you had done it. It felt so hot and tight and wet and you could feel your walls trying to milk his finger. 

“So tight. So hot and tight and perfect. Fuck taking it so pretty aren’t ye mo leannan? This was made for a cock, that’s whit I meant by saying I wisnae going tae take your maidenhood. The first cock in ye should be yer husbands in this Kingdom. Fuuuck, bunch of bastards. If ye were from the Northern Isles wouldnae be a problem for me to be inside ye before ye married.”

Everything felt blindingly intense, but it felt like you were on a thin line between that and a fuzzy softness. Like if you just gave in to it, you could leave your thoughts to the wayside and just feel. You resisted, too busy buzzing with the singular thought that one finger was already making you feel desperately stretched and full. A cock inside you?

“I’d die if you put it inside me, s’too big. Feel so full already” you whined, grabbing one of the pillows to press your face into.

He was picking up the pace, the sound of his hard cock sliding between your thighs combined with the sound of his finger pumping in and out of you wet and only interrupted by both of your desperate noises. 

“I know, so tight. We’ll help ye, me and the Prince and the Duke. Get ye ready and excited,” he said, his words spoken right into the flesh of your shoulder where he had buried his head. 

He added another finger and you swore, not something very lady like but fuck you wanted, you wanted, you wanted. Your own fingers bumped against his again, dipping down to get more of that slick to make everything feel better. He kissed at your shoulder and you thought you could die from such a sweet little gesture.

“So good, taking it so good. Feels better already hm? Ye know that ye were made to take our cocks, can feel ye clenching thinking about it. Would ye like that? After Simon gets ye nice and full with a child let the rest of us have ye. Never going tae want for anything wee yin, we’ll take such good care of ye.”

He reminded you of Gaz, the words seemingly being spoken for himself more than you. The idea that he would find it pleased him thinking of you being taken care of was going to give you heart problems. 

It was only after you came with a scream that he really showed you how much this was affecting him. He fucked your thighs with a fury, leaving your breathless. You had taken your fingers away, choking a sob when he pulled his out and then just crying out incoherently when instead of removing them entirely he went back to your clit, the overstimulation dragging pleasure out of pain. 

“J-Johnny I can’t!”

“Ye fucking can! Cum for me again my lady” he growled.

Turned out you could and the way you howled had him cumming as well. You felt ropes of sticky fluid make a mess of your thighs and you were too boneless and dazed to question it. That was a lesson for another time, on the balance of things you reckoned school was out for the day.

[puer-aurea]

Divine Intervention (Mouthwashing AU)

Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here) ive decided to call this au Divine Intervention cz i think it sounds cool and is sorta fitting? it wont be mentioned anywhere in the fic cz it doesnt happen but their rescue takes place the day before everyone dies in game. so she saved them at the last second basically

After a brief introduction to the rest of the crew, Arabella is led to the med-bay to meet the previous captain. Anya and Jimmy accompany her while Daisuke and Swansea pack some things. The old captain looks their way and seems to freak out a little when he sees the new person.

"It's okay, Curly... She's here to help." Anya walks up to the man.

He looks near death, hardly alive enough to be called a man. If it didn't feel wrong from a medically moral standpoint, Arabella would've considered him a walking corpse in her head. But he was alive enough to move, make noise, and hurt, so he was alive enough to be saved. Jimmy stays by the doorway while she walks towards the old captain and the nurse.

"Hello, Captain Curly-"

"He is no longer captain." Jimmy interrupts angrily, like the one thing he has is being taken from him.

"Well, Jimmy, I'm afraid neither are you-" she turns to face him- "since your crew agreed to board my ship and be rescued, whoever was captain, legally or acting, is absolved of their duties. From now until we land, you are all patients under the care of No Boundaries Search and Rescue team member Arabella Inara. Which is me, if you can't tell."

She waits for Jimmy to respond if he decides to. He looks like he's trying to be intimidating. When he figures all eyes have been on him for long enough, he mutters a 'whatever' and walks away. "I didn't think he would just leave? He's distrusting but doesn't seem to care enough to ensure I can be trusted." Arabella states.

"He is... not a very good man." Anya explains quietly.

The half dead captain struggles and groans on the table, seemingly freaking out again. The girls turn their attention back to him and Arabella pulls a small med-kit out of her suit pocket. She places it on a nearby table before pulling out a vial and a syringe. The sight makes Anya and the dying captain panic slightly.

"W-what are you doing?" Anya stands in front of him defensively.

Arabella gives a confused look before realizing she didn't explain her intent.

"Oh, don't worry more than you need to. It's morphine to put Captain Curly to sleep while we move him to my ship and get everything situated. I figured it would be easier on both us and him. Since you would technically be his leading caregiver as the Pony Express nurse, you can decide if I should give him it or not."

Anya looks nervously at the syringe and Arabella. She thinks for a moment before sighing and relaxing, moving out of the way.

"Go ahead..." She hangs her head low as if she's admitting defeat. "Okay Captain Curly, if you can accept this shot gracefully, then when we get you on my ship and you wake up, I will have a proper conversation about my plans to get you all home. Well, about as proper of a conversation as we can." Arabella stands over him with the syringe, waiting.

After a moment of no indication of a response, the captain simply turns his head to the side and up a little, as if he was offering his neck. Actually, he was offering his neck. A silent agreement to Arabella's words. She places the syringe up to his neck and pushes it in as gently as possible. He fidgets slightly from the pain but remains mostly calm. When it's in far enough, she pushes down so the morphine goes in and removes it as carefully as she put it in. It was fast acting and the old captain was unresponsive quick enough for Arabella to store the syringe in vial back in the med-kit before the rest of the crew approached.

"Are you all ready to go then?" Arabella asks.

"More than ready! I'm so homesick!" Daisuke responds in a cheery tone.

"Great, if one of you could carry Captain Curly to the loading area then almost everything is good to go. I'll help Anya get her stuff and take whatever is still of use from here. Can never have too much medical supplies." Arabella gives the order to no one in particular but Jimmy still scoffs and does it as if he was the one who was asked.

The crew, minus Anya, headed off to the loading area while Arabella and her worked on gathering whatever supplies weren't ruined. When they seemed to be far enough out of earshot, Arabella abruptly stopped.

"Where is your cockpit?"

[mwolf0epsilon]

After a conversation with @gaeasun I have decided to incorporate Tup's chip being a nuisance well before his deployment in more ways than the occasional migraine, into the overall story of the FIAU.

By this I mean, even as a cadet random orders would fire off occasionally, but not to the extent where they completely overwrote whatever he was doing or his personality. Rather, he would sometimes just go nonverbal (Order 6), stop listening to his trainers in favour of someone else that seemed like they knew what they were doing (Orders 4, 5 and 65), snitched on his fellow troopers for the most minor things (Order 37), and other such oddities that seemed a little out of character for him compared to his usual friendly and helpful disposition.

You'd think this would have raised suspicion that something might be off with Tup early on, but this is where the second part of the headcanon gets a little more tragic: No one ever suspected a thing because Dogma went out of his way to overcompensate his own behavior (acting incredibly strict and very persnickety to the point where it got extremely annoying) to keep attentions off of his brother.

Over-time acting this way just became natural to Dogma (because he did it so much and he also took a little pride in being a good exemplary soldier) who's loyalty towards Tup and Perfect Soldier™ act certainly helped to divert people's dislike/ire towards his "infuriating boot-licking" ways. He wasn't one to really care for big crowds anyway. He was content having a friend in Tup rather than please the masses.

To rub further salt in the wound, after Umbara it becomes very obvious to Tup how much Dogma used to cover for him. He hadn't ever realized his bouts of migranes and "quirkiness" were so troublesome until he found himself having to hide it all by himself...

It certainly puts into perspective how much he took Dogma's dedication for granted.

[kupidachillea]

Achilles x You x Patroclus hcs

Author note: This is sorta self indulgent, please be nice in the comments. I understand this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but just be nice about it and have an open mind.💕

TW: None, this is mainly fluff. Besides the mentions of wounds and training (fighting)

-🌿 When you first meet them, it’s not really what you expected. You had moved to Greece and were staying with Chiron until he suggested that you could stay with his former students. And you agreed.

-🏺 You found yourself in their home as their new housemate. How odd, but you brushed it off as something akin to a roommate and you hoped you could get along with the two former warriors.

-🌿 At first Achilles was skeptical of you, not entirely on board with the idea of living with someone other than his companion..but Patroclus managed to get him to calm down enough to accept you as a new friend into their space.

-🏺And for the most part, things were good between the 3 of you. You mainly tried not to be a bother but also tried to engage with them every once in awhile. As well as doing basic house chores.

-🌿 Besides that you’d watch the boys train together and occasionally patch them up from their little fights. It was more so harder to get Achilles to accept treatment but he’d always give in..mumbling that your touch was “So soft..” every time you’d clean up his injuries.

-🏺Patroclus was actually quite thrilled that he wouldn’t always have to be tending to his own wounds after training (or deal with Achilles’ scrappy bandage work). It meant he could relax while you asked about how training went and how he’d respond. The boys seemed to grow to enjoy your company each week.

-🌿Not that you noticed it at first, but they’d start to do little things for you. Before they’d never really make breakfast for you but now you’d come downstairs to your breakfast already made for you and a sweet note from Patroclus to your surprise.

-🏺 Even when you stay up late nights, Achilles will walk by your room or wherever you are and frown when he sees that you’re still up. You’d give him some excuse but he didn’t care..he’d pick you up despite your protest and place you in bed.

-🌿 If you still didn’t want to sleep he’d call Patroclus and they’d both stay in your room with you until your fall asleep, ultimately causing them to fall asleep with you in the bed in a sweet cuddle pile.

-🏺At first Achilles would never want to admit that he was starting to have feelings for you, because he didn’t think it’d be possible since it’s been years..but as soon as Patroclus pipes up saying he’s developed feelings for you too- he ultimately admits it with a defeated sigh. At least he knows they’re both on the same page.

-🌿 Of course they’re both conflicted at first, but then they decide to own up to it- I mean- if they can handle the war they can handle courting…right?….right?

-🏺It’s a bit of a task but they start getting more touchy with you, sleeping on your lap or resting against your back with their weight. This obviously confuses you- and if you’re easily flustered they’ll lightly tease you for it. Achilles with his smirk and Patroclus with a sweet yet knowing grin.

-🌿 They’ve taken it upon themselves to start giving you nicknames: like “Dear”, “Darling”, “Love”, or in Achilles’ case; “Doll” or “Dollface”. At times you’ll call them nicknames too like “Achi” or “Patro”..but nothing like what they say since you’re not sure if they’d appreciate, but deep down they’re aching for you to call them a silly lovey nickname.

-🏺 At some point though over the course of the months you’ve been living with them, Achilles gets impatient and sick of you not getting their hints and they both end up confronting you just as you were about to settle down and do you own thing-

-🌿 Achilles was about ti accuse you of playing around with them until Patroclus chimed in, cutting off the words of his companion and speaking for them both. Basically confessing that they have liked you for some time now…He would look at you with a pleading gaze in his beautiful green eyes..patiently waiting for a response from you while Achilles scanned your shocked expression.

-🏺You being you, you were trying to play it safe..but seeing how serious they were about being a “Throuple” with you was not something you expected, but you eventually decided to give them a chance when you saw even the proud Achilles look at you in almost a pleading manner.

-🌿 They were over the moon- Achilles wasting no time in pulling you in for a heated kiss, his lips colliding with your and making you blink in surprise before kissing him back..When he pulled away he was grinning like an idiot.

-🏺Patroclus was more gentle, asking his he could kiss you before pulling you into his arms and being a little more passionate about it. Though he did bite your bottom lip teasingly.

-🌿 You were pleasantly surprised to say the least and soon enough they both ushered you to the sofa to cuddle and watch some movies. Achilles laying so that you were laying in his chest and Patroclus snuggling between your legs, his face resting on your chest too while you blushed and thought about how this relationship would progress.