#over the garden wall my ass i am over the wall through the forest and into the fucking river

[villalunae]

*grabs david lynch* do you know what you have fucking done to me

[sunnisurrealism]

Hi Timmy. After the very depressing post of yesterday I want to lift our spirits! I am fully stepping up to my responsibility of being the communicator in this relationship (though I still INFINITELY appreciate the 1227.1995 and MB posts hehe VIEL DANK 😍🥰😘) and it is very important to me that I ensure our nervous systems are regulated, especially after the immense turmoil of the past few months 😔 I am doing a full apology session for the next usb, and for now I want to give you hope by sharing next my ideas, only to compliment your own, for the book! Again it is the brunt of your destiny to figure out how to balance my and your ideas. It is for this reason I need to make it clear that my ideas are only inspiring ideas, and none of them “ought to be” in the book. I will fully flush out these ideas in the next USB, and to explain them all here would be quite overwhelming, nevertheless I want to share overall ideas to give you hope and excitement during our constant difficult times!

-Félix has “baptism” in magic mirror fountain and his hair turns fuchsia! Sunnï is so utterly delighted by the infinite cuteness that she cannot help it like her body feels no choice and she jumps from the wall into the fountain with him and kisses and licks him all over like a happi happi puppy and… they have sexy times in the sacred fountain 😅😍😛 ultimate make up sex vibes.

-Félix and Sunnï are high on lyfe chirping away while walking through the norty neature forest feeling happi happi happi and very secure and bonded. More sexi times. Sunnï quite distracted accidentally eats the wrong mushroom, even though she is usually very good at identifying correctly. She goes into coma seizure frothing at mouth. Félix panics freaking out. She mumbles weird things about the gods and visions. In pain. Then! SPROUTS ANTENNAS! she comes back, and tries to explains visions of the gods, but doesn’t know much other than that believing they are real. Félix is frustrated that she saw things he didn’t, but knows his own connections to questioning reality is real too (the colours, the secret coin, the pursuit of this knowledge is the purpose of their quest). Sunnï is exhausted and he nurtures her and they rest.

-The are bombarded by the Literal Bad Ass Shitey Donkz Shit Lords of The Shartel and are both, for absolutely no reason, utterly literally sharted on by the Shitey Donkz Donkeys. (Backstory on USB).

-Frog Mage (like memes) comes to comfort them and explain that random bad shit (literally) sometimes happens in lyfe and we just gotta deal. It occurs to Sunnï that Frog and Toad were her secret guardians (by under the guise of whom and how did they know and why?) Frog Mage tells them to go to magic greenhouse pond to cleanse themselves? (Original 2020 artwork). Maybe they are washed down first. Sunnï and Félix play hide and seek in botanical gardens and when Félix sees Sunnï on pillar (2020 artwork). They go to bottom of pond in greenhouse, Félix gets hooves stuck in mud (?). Félix officially gains merman transformation powers. (Ps. I’m not sure when you want to integrate sunglass metaphor from Das Booboe Zwei but that scene also somehow has to be included).

-Upon Félix officially gaining merman transformation powers, they want to go to ocean. As mermaids they hella explore and have good time, making friends with sea creatures. Somehow, for a second when they are looking either way, Sunnï is captured by: PIRATES! When she is lifted onto their boat she turns back nÿmph. Leader of the pirates is Captain Manu. They all threaten raping her. She is terrified. Félix (is he Mrinmöy now idk, seems like that identity comes later with more growth), absolutely freaks out. Maybe he feels her scared mood telepathically in a certain colour? Right when Sunnï is about to get raped somehow she is saved, either picked up by the wind or by a Pegasus (that would be cool - don’t forget the gods are in forms of animals). Sunnï is brought to land, Pegasus tells her to trust why she is being separated. Pegasus would be male. On land Sunnï is delivered to The Last Unicorn, where they bond as symbolizing her pure femininity. Meanwhile, merman Félix finally sees the boat and tries to do something sneaky on the pirates to distract / mindblow them (like Willy Wonka he would never be violent, social surrealism to shock people out of their ways, idk what you wanna do, I like an imagine of them somehow all wearing pink flower hats or crowns or something? Maybe in faun form he somehow uses his magic tail. Again no violence allowed ever from Félix or Sunnï in the book) but Félix learns too late Sunnï was saved by Pegasus. He is thankful and knows the gods are somehow on his side, but very concerned about knowing how he will find her. He swims as merman away utterly distraught when he stumbled upon Darby Johns, the The Dood son of Santa Clause and Davey Jones, who delivers all the mermaids their Sea Weed across the 8 Seas for Xmas. Darby is a stoner bro who tells him to chill and trust the flow of lyfe (the big Lebowski equivalent). He calms Félix/Mrinmöy down by sharing the Sea Weed. Darby Johns takes Félix/Mrinmöy to the secret far away 8th Sea to meet The Mermaids, and Félix/Mrinmöy explains his situation with Sunnï??? Timmy idk who or how thee mermaids would work in the book, but we know this was coming. Who are they? What are their backstory? Are they secret keepers of wisdom (EI?). Mermaids are diverse in every way. Race, body shape, expression, skills. The arw so diverse in physical appearance they are practically alien-like. Way more physical diversity, and tbh beauty!, than human diversity on earth. Overall tho they are probably very peaceful chill, like they got life figured out. Probably kinda rasta. Probably egalitarian but lyfe is still interesting (?). If there are leaders of the mermaid civilization they would probably not be majority white (important to show in book). I highly respect black rasta mermaid vibes (think alien rasta memes) but also please include all ethnic groups from earth. What would their civilization be like? What would he Mrinmöy’s connection to them? Would they have a prophecy with him and Sunnï/her mermaid ascendant name that you have chosen like in Dune? Are they like the fremen? How are they connected to the giant Maracuja flower and the 7 cities? They would definitely be wiser and keepers of ancient wisdom secrets. What to they have figured out that the land folk do not? Do they have connections to the land folk? Did they ostracize themselves from the land folk? Félix/Mrinmöy should probably go into an initiation with them as they are impressed by his transformation journey. Perhaps it is very strange that a nymph and faun have the ability to turn into mermaids. Is there a prophecy? Does the prophecy have to do with The Godz? What should we avoid from lessons from Dune? Please write carefully 😌

-Merfolk and Mrinmöy make magic plan to find Sunnï. Upon describing Sunnï life story the Merfolk are reminded of the inadvertently lonely last unicorn, and believe Sunnï must be with her (due to similar solitary life stories). Then, somehow the mermaids use the narwhals to connect with the magic unicorn. The leader narwhals creates a rainbow out of its horn connects with the horn of the last unicorn. Mrinmöy turns back into Félix and the same Pegasus comes and he rides the Pegasus flying the rainbow all the way to Sunnï and the last unicorn, who were chilling and cuddling on the beach. Sunnï and Félix reunite utterly happi and crying happi tears. Félix tells her all about how he met the merfolk in the secret 8th sea, and Sunnï tells him all about how the last unicorn taught her to protect and never be ashamed of her sacred divine feminine. Then, after Félix and Sunnï had some quality time talking with the last unicorn together and Félix learns about the protecting the divine feminine, they both fly back to the 8th sea on the Pegasus and I guess now as mermaids Mrinmöy introduces Sunnï/whatever her ascendant mermaid name is, to their merfolk, and they all discus how peculiar it is that a nymph and faun have gained the abilities to turn into mermaids and what it means. Maybe as Félix explains that he gained merman transformative powers when he hooves were stuck in the mud they give him Mrinmöy sacred merman name (similar to Muad’Dib). They are surprised and curious about Sunni’s antennas, but she explains to them she can’t control them. Sunnï also explains to them how she got mermaid transformation powers (Timmy you can decide that one 😅). Overall maybe The Merfolk had a prophecy that The Gods are coming back to Trollita and they see Félix and Sunnï strange and never before seen transformative powers into Mermaids as a sign. Again, avoid bad parts of Dune.

I love this! They needed to meet the mermaids somehow, and I like dune reference. Perhaps there was no "chosen one" prophecy but the merfolk and nevertheless extremely flabbergasted that a nymph and faun got mermaid transformative powers. something strange is going on in the nature of reality, the main quest of knowledge in this book! 🕳️🐋

Edit: the mermaids have probably self-ostracized themselves from the landfolk because the landfolk were of lower emotional intelligence ie. were violent / had war. Perhaps they realized they lived in more peace and *safety* in the secret far away 8th sea. Was there a big event that happened when they self ostracized? when the book escalates into the destiny of the planet sharing the gifts of the cities and transplanting the giant flower, the mermaids will probably finally share their divine wisdom with the landfolk, with the ideas that if they get over their violent tendencies then they will all benefit from the sharing of the gifts and necessary transplant of the flower and may all be rewarded with contact with the gods (ancient prophecies of gods being real are seemingly true, the final crux point approaching!). have to be worthy somehow vibes. the mermaids are never violent. *it will never be Sunnï or Félix who are the sharers of this wisdom, it will always be the OG mermaids themselves. In this way it is not like Dune, and in this way the diversity of the mermaids represents the oppressed groups of earth being the divine and wise tbh more emotionally mature leaders of change* the mermaids were always on a higher (in this case lower in the ocean) level. They understand the secrets beneath the surface. Whatever mermaid character ultimately does share the higher wisdom to the landfolk in the later book, probably the last one, should probably be black. If you want it could be Kid Cudi, because he is a Chosen One and he is very very wise. It's up to you!

Ps. Please see recent additions to the book folder on Pinterest for mermaid aesthetic vibes of this chapter. Very diverse beauty! Mermaids SLAY effortlessly 💅🏻 all of this is obviously inspired by the latest little mermaid movie! Ily Halle Bailey. Can’t wait for the new animated show! Made in Vancouver and my friend worked on it! I’m gunna have to ask my dad to get Disney plus again just for that hehe!

Edit: I forgot to include, before Sunnï eats the mushroom Félix is somehow gifted his Magic Flute from Pan equivalent animal (goat?). He wears it in sheath on back like sword but flute. He plays it for himself and Sunnï to calm their nervous systems. Maybe he plays it when she has seizure and it brings her back to. I’m really sorry Timmy but I will not be sending you the flute irl right away because I want to record with it!!! I’m so sorry! But it is safe. :)

Edit edit: if you include Kid Cudi as The Chosen One Merman, maybe he is their magic musician. Maybe he is a flute player like Félix! Maybe Félix’s magic flute works underwater and him and Merman Cudi realize they are both flute players and hella bond and play.. duets together! That would be so graceful beautiful. Two aesthetically beautiful mermans playing flute duets to calm the seas and world :’) just an idea. Originally I thought Cudi would be a flute wizard. I guess he could be a WIZARD MERMAN! His magic is music that influences the flow of the tides and water and fish and critters. Oh I like that. I like that a lot.

[poptod]

Would u be up to writing a crack fic where Ahk eats some dodgy food and gets violently ill from it and in his food poisoning induced delirium starts to like hallucinate and think that gods are against him and hanging out with him and stuff. so yeah. (also omfg never noticed the ostrich part in NATM!!!)

notes: YEA that fucking ostrich is hilarious and YES this sounds fun. u didn’t say if this was xreader or if this was in egypt or in the museum so i took some liberties, hope that’s alright! i also really ran with this so apologies for the length WC: 2,222

+

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Now, now, that’s no way to refer to your husband,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You are not - we’re not married,” you hissed.

“Not yet,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. Ahkmen wasn’t King yet, but you still held the position as his advisor, placed there by both Ahkmen’s choice and his father’s insistence.

Now, however, you were focused on a different, more pertinent issue. An entire bag of almond date rolls had been thrown away for Ahk to find, opening the sack to find them untouched. Since he had little to no self control—which was why you were there to begin with—he immediately began eating them.

“There isn’t anything wrong with them,” he said through a mouthful.

“You don’t know that,” you said, still glaring up at him.

He swallowed before promptly stuffing another whole roll in his mouth.

“Stop that!” You said, and batted the sack out of his hand.

The cinch released and the rolls went flying down a sandy hill, reaching the river outcrop at the bottom. Ahk watched, miserably, as they disappeared.

“You have access to date rolls anytime you like in the palace,” you reminded him.

“But it’s such a long walk back, and I like it here,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the forested hill overlooking the Nile. Shade stretched over your bodies and the reed blanket beneath you, allowing the wind to cool your sun-beaten skin.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you said, leaning back to lie down.

“How funny, then, that you are my life,” he said with a grin, following you till he propped himself up on his elbow, his free hand resting on your chest.

He stared at you, scanning you as you half-glared at him.

“What do you want?” You asked, looking up unimpressed.

“A kiss,” he said, puckering his lips.

“Shut up!”

You shoved him onto his back, laughter wracking his body.

A little while later you found yourself once more obeying Ahk’s whim, though his father had warned against that, and followed him in short steps down the tall dune. Solidified, plant-filled earth gave way for free falling sand that drifted off the slope and towards the riverbank.

The water during this time of year was at a steady but slow pace, flowing from south to north as the sun’s rising and setting indicated. Wind that once cooled you now brought hot air, exacerbated by the overzealous sun, who you imagined could burn even your ink-black skin. Sand avalanched around your still feet, landing you at Ahk’s side.

“Luncheon will be soon,” you reminded.

“I’m aware,” he said flatly. “Can’t I simply enjoy myself for once?”

“No.”

He waded out into the water, his shoulders tensing at the chill and only releasing as he went deeper. Once the red water reached his knees, just barely soaking the edge of his skirt, he called to you.

“Come join me,” he said, offering you his hand.

“We should go back to the palace,” you said.

“Come now, it’ll be hours before lunch,” he whined.

“It’s one hour. And you can’t be wearing that,” you said, gesturing to his outfit that consisted of no more than a skirt, partially torn and covered in dirt.

“Then take it off me,” he said with a sly grin.

You scowled at him, going over your options for a moment before you acted.

Once you decided, you waltzed into the river, soaking your sandals as you approached him. Satisfaction filled his gaze as you came closer, his hand still outstretched to you.

At last you took his hand, tugging him forcefully towards you. He let out a grunt, but before he could say anything, you reached forward and released the clasp keeping his skirt on him, allowing it to fall in the running water and drift away.

“Hey!” He cried, attempting to go after it, but stopped by your hand still in his. He turned back to you, a shocked look on his face as he said, “what was that for?!”

“Dawdling. Let’s go back to the palace.”

“Like this?!” He yelled, gesturing to his naked body. You snorted.

“You don’t mind. I know you don’t. You just want to be mad at me,” you said in a definitive voice.

“I don’t-“

“Come on, Prince,” you said, tugging him past you so he stumbled towards the shoreline. As he just barely got his standing you slapped his butt, pushing him forward further.

Ahkmen fell silent—as he rarely did—after he’d been dressed and was on the way to the garden, where the Pharaoh had arranged a feast he made and placed for himself, his family, and the ambassadors visiting from Punt. You were not invited, but you watched from above alongside the youngest Prince’s manservant. Ahk’s room was placed right above the western gardens, large arches within allowing a plenty good sight out, which you and Naguib took advantage of.

“He’s squirming an awful lot,” Naguib noted after several minutes of silence.

Naguib laid on his stomach, his chin propped up on his palms, in turn resting on his elbows on the stone floor. You sat nearby, leant against one of the arch pillars with a tablet of baked limestone on your lap.

At his comment you looked over the ledge, easily finding the trademark golden crown Ahk bore.

“How so?” You asked.

“Look at his legs,” Naguib said, and your eyes turned to his fidgeting crossed legs, “and his hands.”

His fists were clenching and unclenching.

“Should we check in on him?” He asked gingerly.

“.... nah,” you said after a moment. “I’m sure it’s fine. He’s probably just upset I slapped him on the arse.”

Naguib choked on his own spit, bursting into manic laughter.

“You slapped the prince’s ass??” He asked incredulously through gasps of laughter. “How’d he react to that?”

“He stripped me,” you answered, returning to your tablet with little waver in your voice.

“What -“

“That might’ve been because I took away his skirt, though. In that case, he just looked at me really strangely,” you said.

“How so?”

You twisted your expression to reflect what you remembered, a strange mix of confused, angered, and one feeling that was almost always at the forefront of Ahk’s mind—horny. Naguib burst into another round of laughter.

Several minutes later, after your conversation died down, Naguib looked back over the ledge and frowned.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Who what?”

“Ahk, he isn’t there anymore,” he said, pointing to the empty cushion where Ahk had been sitting. You shifted to see.

“Huh. What do you think happened?”

Bursts of metal latches and swinging hinges interrupted you before either of you could think of an answer, followed by the wooden frame of the door slamming against the other wall. Both of you darted to look behind you, finding several different servants entering, a limp Prince in their arms.

Instantly you jumped to your feet. Naguib joined you, though much slower, and you both made your way to his bedside once the servants set him down.

“What happened?” Naguib asked, a hand on the bed as he looked up to one of the servants.

You set your hand over his forehead, testing his temperature, and using your sense of magic to reach into his veins, searching for a perpetrator.

“He hasn’t got a fever,” you noted, earning a nod from the servant tending him.

You made to search again before Ahk moved, groaning softly as he curled into himself, clutching his stomach.

“Ahk? Are you alright?” You asked—probably too quickly—as you knelt at his side, panic pounding its way into your heart.

“Ugh,” he grumbled, just barely wheezing out his breaths. “Alive. Right now.”

“What are your symptoms?”

“Stomach,” he breathed, halting as he flinched, his hands moving to slap over his mouth.

“Bucket!” You said to the servant, who nodded and rushed for one of the buckets in the nearest closet. “You’re going to throw up, its alright. Get it out.”

“Ughhh...” he mumbled, convulsing forward again as he attempted to hold it in.

In a flash the servant returned, rushing to set the bucket down beside the bed. You held it up, helping him scoot dizzily forward before he hurled.

Things continued in a similar fashion until the setting of the sun, the western rays finally sinking beneath the distant mountain horizon. Crickets and firebugs chirped, bringing in the cool breeze of evening, sending shivers down Ahk’s sweat-sheeted shoulders and back.

You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping to raise the curls off his heated forehead, but he raised his hand to stop you.

“No,” he slurred, “too sick... repetitive.”

“Alright,” you said softly.

His dizziness persevered from the evening into the night, but his vomitting had luckily stopped, though he did try to retch on an empty stomach twice. By then he was passed out from exhaustion, still shivering in his sleep. You stayed at his side without fail, raising his sheets up to cover him, and removing them when he broke out into another sweat.

At midnight, his eyes fluttered open.

The first thing he saw was you—surrounded by a halo of brightly glowing stars, colored in red, yellow, and purple. His sickness had faded but the delirium remained, and he reached out blindly for your face.

His fingers dragging across your eyes and cheeks brought you back from your meditation, shocked at his consciousness.

“You’re awake,” you said with a relieved sigh, your knees digging into the cold stone beneath you.

“Hathor?” He mumbled weakly, his eyes still half-closed.

“No, no,” you said, taking his hand down from your face and clasping it in your own hold. “Piye. Remember? How do you feel?”

“Am I dead?”

“Not as far as I know. You exhibit all the tell-tale signs of being alive,” you said, chuckling.

“... Bastet?”

“Also no. Piye.”

“Peets....” he mumbled before promptly falling back asleep.

The next time he awoke was a little later on, towards the very, very early morning. He once again broke you out of your meditation, this time with words rather than smothering your face. His state of aberration had yet to improve.

“Piye?” He asked softly, a husk of a voice.

“Yes,” you said, smiling. He remembered your name. “How do you feel?”

“When d.. you’re... you’re glowing,” he murmured.

“I what?”

He reached forward, and you flinched away, stiffened by a soft touch that traced down your jawline.

“You’re... glowing,” he said, louder, drawing in a deep breath as sweat began to bead on his forehead.

“Calm down, Ahk,” you warned him, pushing the hair off his forehead. “You’re going to work yourself up.”

“No,” he said with a strange sense of urgency, holding your face in the palm of his hand. You subconsciously leaned your cheek into his touch. “No, I need to see you.”

“I’m right here, with you.”

“Not in my dreams,” he breathed out, the words brushing his parted lips, now paler than ever.

Fever.

Vomitting.

Fatigue.

Gagging. Weakness. Dizziness. Chills. Sweating.

What would your father say?

He didn’t need to consult the numerous stacks of books shoved into his office to know what Ahk suffered from, but he was far away in Thebes, and you wouldn’t dare leave the Prince’s side, in fear of his condition and the wrath of his father should he suffer grievously.

“I told you not to eat those date rolls,” you chided, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. That must’ve been the cause—sickness carried through infirm food. You could think of nothing else.

He didn’t say anything. Not for a little while, at least. He continued to blink, albeit slow, and stared unceasingly into you.

“He is in your eyes,” he whispered, his own eyes flickering between yours. “And... speaking.”

“Who do you see?” You asked softly, suddenly reluctant to blink.

“Heka.”

Not a God of magic, but the personification of it. The genuine representation of healing and enchantments. His fertile, black skin made of the Nile’s silt was reflected in your own complexion—darker than night, flanked by eyes that appeared to glow against the midnight of you.

“What is he saying?” You said, readjusting yourself beside his hand, a seriousness edging your tone. Claims of Heka were not to be taken lightly.

“Pledging.. love.”

“For who?”

“... me,” he whispered.

“Beloved of...”

“Beloved of you,” he interrupted before you could finish your thought, a smile creeping at the edges of his pale lips.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to stroke your thumb over the back of his hand. He was returning to a saner state of mind.

“Perhaps so,” you murmured.

[thran-duils]

Nowhere to Run (P.2)

Title: Nowhere to Run (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Stony. Reader was caught unknowingly stealing from the capitol harvest and is drug to the capitol for punishment. She is offered an option to go to trial or accept work in the main government building. Upon her tour, she ends up in trouble and catches eyes of two of the Master Council that decide she needs to be broken in by their hands. Words: 6,130 Warnings (for this chapter): Non-con, servitude, forced orgasms, verbal and emotional abuse, double penetration, unprotected sex Author’s Notes: Definitely biting Mother Gothel vibes when Tony says, “No? Oh...” Also, sorry that this got so long but also not sorry.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The courtyard between the villas was swathed in flowers and shrubbery. Despite how scared you were to be here, you came to a stop in the pathway, looking around in awe. This kind of garden was one you dreamed of to have and lay in, soaking up the sun. Your hands came up to your sheer hood of your robe to push it back — before leaving the Capitol you had been given a robe, a symbol of your assignment. It was white and embroidered with flowers and upon seeing the garden, you spotted the flower it was based off of. You had not seen it in any other part of the Capitol yet and surmised it was specifically here and therefore, the reason for the embroidery choice. It was deep blue, weaving in vines around the pillar. You reached out, rubbing one of the petals between your fingers gently.

Tsu snapped his fingers in your face, getting your attention once more.

“We don’t have a lot of time. The Masters are in a council meeting, and they’ll be expecting you to be settled in and starting your tasks by the time they return. Now I was told you will be assigned primarily to Master Rogers and Master Stark.” He leaned in close and hissed, “And please heed my warning: obey. They are not known to be forgiving.”

He looked serious and you nodded, “Noted.”

“I hope so. They won’t be lenient about back talk. Do not repeat what you did at the capitol building.”

Tsu turned on his heel and continued on, taking a path towards one of the villas. “This is Mr. Roger’s.”

It infuriated you that they all had such large houses just to themselves. Many around the country shared the houses with multiple families and they were nowhere near the size of these.

And being inside, you were even more upset seeing how lacking homeliness there was to the place. It was all marble flooring, minimalist, and cold, really. He gave you direction about the rooms, nodding in acknowledgment when you passed a couple of other servants. They nodded quickly back before moving on to continue their tasks. Your eyes lingered on the large, canopied bed in the master bedroom. Why someone needed that big of a bed just for themselves was beyond you. But the Capitol was greedy, and it was so because of the council members living above their actual needs.

Your mouth watered as you were led to the kitchen; dinner was being prepared and it smelled delicious. The cook himself was skinny and you wondered if he was ever rewarded with the fruits of his labor. You were to attend to the morning tasks specifically and the cook showed you where the coffee was — a delicacy that apparently Master Rogers enjoyed every morning — and where he would leave the prepped food for you to cook for breakfast. On top of preparing his outfit for the day to lay out and getting his toiletries ready for after his shower.

“Am I to do the same at Master Stark’s as well?” you asked Tsu, who nodded. “How can I be expected to be in two places at once? Who is first?”

“They will work that out amongst themselves and inform you. Come now, over to Master Stark’s. Apparently one of his maids has fallen… under the weather.” You furrowed your brow at the hesitance and Tsu leaned in, “We shan’t expect to see her for probably nine months.”

You felt bile swirling.

“It happens from time to time with the Master’s maids. Why, Master Wilson had one just last month.”

“Charming. I’m so glad that’s a common occurrence that no one bats an eye,” you muttered.

Tsu wagged his finger at you, “That’s that attitude I was talking about. I’m not going to be here to remind you to keep it reined in. You’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

Master Stark’s house was across the courtyard. His house was just as unwelcoming and darker in interior design. There were many sky lights, a huge one over his sunken living room. You stepped down, looking at the plush couch and the large flat screen mounted on the wall. Again, so much space for just one person. His bedroom was facing the forest with a bed as large as Master Roger’s and you walked along the windows, staring out as Tsu led you to show you the master bath. You stared at the shower, taking in the floating shower head above and the wooden bench along the wall. That must be relaxing.

“Servants quarters are downstairs. There’s some in every villa. I’m not sure which one you’ll be in but again, they’ll let you know.”

He was leading you back through the hall, pointing out an office and a library. You stuck your head inside the library curiously, your mouth falling open at the walls of books. Back home, you had the pleasure of a collection, but it was not even a quarter of this.

“Come on, Y/N. We don’t have a lot of—” he stopped hearing noise downstairs, the front door slamming it sounded like.

“Matilda!” A man bellowed.

“Shit. He’s back already,” Tsu hissed before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the library.

Coming along the exposed hallway, you looked past the glass railing over the living room. A woman was in front of who you assumed was Master Stark. He was sneering at her already, “You forget yourself, Matilda. I told you to have my bath ran by the time I returned. Perhaps missing dinner will be in order for you.”

“I’m sorry, master,” she said looking nervous, her head bowed.

Master Stark was dark haired and handsome. He was dressed smartly in a fitted suit, you still able to make out the tautness of his body. The movement at the stairs caught his attention. He took his sunglasses off seeing the pair of you coming down the stairs.

“Master Stark,” Tsu greeted as you approached. He gave a curt bow, and you followed his lead.

Chestnut eyes followed your movement, and you did your best to avert your own gaze. You instead looked at the other woman, seeing the red in her cheeks at being berated.

“I was just showing Y/N around yours and Master Roger’s homes to get her acquainted.”

“Right. The new wench,” Master Stark remarked. You bristled at the term ‘wench’ and shot him an annoyed look. His lips twitched seeing your expression before you averted your gaze again, knowing you had let your temper get the better of you. “Leave us. I can take it from here.”

Tsu nodded and gave another bow. “Good day, Master Stark.”

He left without looking back and you suddenly felt vulnerable without him.

“Girl, come to me,” Master Stark said, snapping his fingers at you like you were a pet. To Matilda he ordered, “What are you still doing standing there, you idiot? Get upstairs and start my bath! Do you wish to miss breakfast as well?”

“No, sir,” she said shaking her head and turning to go up the stairs you had just come down hastily.

You closed the space between the two of you, standing a foot from him, your arms clasped in front of you.

“You were told you are to prepare my clothes and breakfast later in the morning than Steve’s?”

Steve must be Master Rogers.

“Yes, sort of,” you responded in a timid voice.

“Speak up. Muttering annoys the absolute fuck out of me.”

“Yes,” you rose your voice. “But I was unsure which house to be at first. Thank you for answering that for me. What time do you want me here, Master Stark?”

He sighed, “Steve is always up at the asscrack of dawn. Usually about five.” You held back at a grimace knowing you would need to be awake well before then yourself then. “I don’t usually get up until eight. That gives you a couple hours at least at his place beforehand. And you know, before this goes any further, let me see you. Strip.”

“Excuse me?” you asked mortified.

“Did I stutter?” Tony asked dryly. “Untie your dress.”

“No.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “‘No’?” He looked sinister, “Oh…”

“No, I mean you didn’t stutter,” you said quickly, trying to correct your misstep.

Amusement was still evident; he did not believe your lie. “Well, get to it then. As I’m sure you heard, I have a bath running and I would like it to be hot.”

Heat creeped up your neck as you reached up and untied the fabric at the back of your neck. He circled slowly, his fingers brushing at your side. You flinched away instinctively, and his hand latched tightly.

“Did I give you permission to move?”

“No,” you whispered.

“What did I tell you about speaking up? Are you daft?”

“No,” you said louder.

“Good girl,” he said, his hand loosening.

It was one thing to have him examining you like cattle at auction but touching you on top of that was humiliating on a whole new level.

His lecherous examination continued, his fingers following his circle he walked on your skin. He traced down from the nape of your neck to the curve of your ass. His fingers fluttered down and gave a squeeze. You sucked in your cheeks, tensing, but you did not say anything like you had at the Capitol. He held, as if he was waiting. When you stayed still, he made a hum of approval before he moved on.

Fingers ghosted along your shoulder. He was so close; you could feel his breath on you. He was frightening, his presence ominous. You fought to keep your eyes forward and not meet him. You had a feeling that would result in punishment.

He stepped away from you, his hand thankfully gone.

“You’ll do,” he said dismissively.

‘You’ll do’? That was more hurtful than outright telling you that you were not up to his standards. Or was he playing mind games?

“Dress yourself. Before you head over to Steve’s, go and straighten up my library. I had young Master Parker over earlier and he has a terrible fucking habit of not putting things back. I like authors by their last name. Don’t fuck it up, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

<><><>

You awoke at 4:30am and dragged yourself from your small cot. You took on the friendly advice given to you by the other servants to use the small glow stick like device to light your way without turning on the actual lights. There was no need to rouse Master Rogers from sleep before he awoke himself; that would piss him off.

Picking up your list that had been left by one of the head servants, you saw you were to pick out his outfit, sort his toiletries, mop the kitchen floor – where were those supplies? – prepare his coffee and breakfast, and lay out his newspaper for him. And wait for further instruction if there were to be any. The only order for his outfit was ‘casual’.

Master Rogers – Steve – was sleeping soundly still. You stared at his form for a few seconds, his muscular arms and chest that were exposed from his silk sheets. He was a large man, handsome too just like Master Stark, with a strong jaw. His blonde hair was splayed across his forehead from his tussling in the night. You were given little to no instruction for his clothing, and you went into his closet blind, holding up the small light you were holding. His room was shrouded in darkness from the curtains being pulled and you were grateful you had brought the light.

In his closet, you fetched a relaxed top and a soft cardigan with slacks. That was as casual as it was getting in his selection of clothes. You kept the hangers and brought them soundlessly out to his bathroom door, hanging them up. You went inside and began gathering the toiletries listed and separated them between the counter near the sink and his shower.

Down in the kitchen, you made first to find the mop and thankfully, it was in the pantry. It was fairly easy to mop the floor, that you were used to. But after that, you stared at the oven before clicking a button you thought was the correct one. It came to life. This was far more technological than you had dealt with, but you had to figure it out. You wished you had had more time with Tsu or the cook yesterday. It took you a moment to figure out where the skillets were, but you were able to get his bacon started and his eggs. His coffee was more difficult than you thought originally. He wanted a latte. You followed the instructions to make an espresso and then whisked the milk, pouring the espresso over it.

As if on cue, you placed the latte next to his plate on the counter as instructed next to his newspaper, and he walked in.

His eyes ran over you, and you gave him a curt bow as Tsu had done for Master Stark. “Good morning, Master Rogers.”

“We haven’t met,” he responded, coming over to his plate and grabbing his newspaper.

“Y/N, sir.”

“Hmm, right. I remember you.”

He remembered you from what?

“I’m to help you in the morning. I hope my outfit choice was appropriate.”

Steve looked down and shrugged half assedly. “It’s comfortable enough.”

Holding back your attitude, you asked, “Is there something I can do different in the future that will please you more?” His eyes flashed lasciviously, and you quickly added, “In regard to your outfit, I mean, sir. Just so I know what to choose.”

“I’m not sure I can teach a mountain girl anything about fashion on a whim. So, just watch the rest of the masters and the council members outfits. I don’t have the energy to try to explain it to you. I’m sure this long, halter gown is the fanciest thing you’ve worn and it’s merely a villa servant’s dress.”

How you wanted to knock him a good one for being so crass. It must have been evident in your expression because his eyes crinkled as he picked up a bite of his eggs, taking a bite.

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“No,” you blatantly lied. “How are your eggs, sir?”

“Fine, surprisingly. You made them quite fluffy.”

Steve’s hand moved in what seemed like a very deliberate movement, knocking his cup, and it fell to the floor. Ceramic shattered and his latte flooded around it.

You bit your cheeks to keep from screaming, staring at it. You had just cleaned the floor.

“Oops,” he said flatly, not sounding sorry at all. “Why did you place it so close to the edge?”

He was saying it like it was your fault. This pompous asshole. But you inhaled deeply.

“I’ll make you another one,” you told him calmly although you were screaming internally. He was not going to get a rise out of you that quickly and that easily. Tsu had warned you to obey and you were not going to risk being beaten or worse – time added to your sentence – over spilled coffee.

“Another one…?” He asked expectantly.

“Master Rogers,” you said stiffly.

You bent over and began picking up the shattered pieces first. Scooping them up you brought them over to the trash can and tossed them in.

Turning back around, you caught sight of him staring, his eyes focused on your hips before he met your gaze. He looked aroused and you knew he had been staring at your ass as you were bent over. Nonchalantly, he cleared his throat and looked back down at his newspaper.

You felt relief surprisingly when he said, “I’m sure Tony will be coming back from the land of the dead soon enough. You should hurry over there.”

<><><>

You cracked Tony’s door open and quietly slipped in. You saw two figures in the bed as you crept by towards his closet. You used the natural light coming in from the windows to guide yourself through the closet. He had said dark grey for his color scheme, so you did your best, matching the jacket, vest, and slacks but a white dress shirt. The socks and tie you chose were burgundy, a contrast. He had not asked for that, but you would see how that worked.

Quietly, you came back out of the closet and stilled when you saw someone slipping out of the bed. You recognized her in the light… Matilda. She stopped only for a moment, locking eyes with you before snatching her dress off the ground and bringing it up and tying it around her neck. She sneaked out of the room, more than likely going to start her chores. So, he forced someone he verbally abused to his bed.

Gently you walked over to the bathroom and hung up the clothes on the outside of the door. You moved inside and got together the materials the same you had for Steve and put the appropriate ones in the shower and by the sink.

When you emerged, Tony was stirring, and you moved quicker to get out of the room before he was fully awake.

But to no luck.

“Morning, little vixen.”

You stopped in your movement and turned back to face him, clasping your hands. “Good morning, Master Stark. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

His lips up ticked into a closed smile, “I’m sure it is time for me to be awake if I find my bed cold. Night is over and consequently the fun.” He threw the covers back and got back out of bed unabashedly of his naked form. Your eyes widened at his brazen behavior, all of him on display. You turned your head, avoiding looking at him and he chuckled. “You’ll get used to seeing this.”

Tony moved towards the door and eyed the suit choice. He shot you a look and said, “Look at that slight boldness of color. It’s subtle against the neutral but it’s nice. Good choice.”

He winked at you before going into the bathroom. You took that as permission to leave to start his breakfast.

<><><>

The whole first day you had put up with both of their antics. They were trying your patience and it was getting to you. You had never crossed two more pretentious men and they were so insulting to their staff. Steve had called you “pigheaded” for placing his newspaper on the right instead of the left of his plate this morning and you wanted to just tear it up in front of him.

You were currently in Tony’s office waiting instruction. There had been a task after breakfast to clean his office and before you started, you wanted more direction, so you did not make a mistake.

He walked in finding you still standing still, and he asked, “You know, to clean, you need to actually be moving?”

“My instructions said to dust but I was not sure what I should touch and not touch, Master Stark. I was waiting for you to give me direction so—”

He cut you off, “When it says dust, just dust. But, you know, I’m actually glad you waited so you’ll be in here longer.” He stalked over to his desk and opened one of his drawers, pulling out a box. He unwrapped it and you watched him pull out a pair of lace, barely there panties. Your heart clenched – he surely did not mean to give those to you? He placed a small device into the crotch of them and held them out to you.

“What’s that?” you asked slowly, not moving.

“I like some entertainment while I work,” Tony commented. “Put them on. They’ll be a snug fit, right up against what I’m sure is a beautiful pussy.” You stared back at him, and Tony returned a challenging look. “Are we going to have a problem?”

At loss for words, you stammered, “I… for what?”

“A problem ‘for what’? Yeah, that’s exactly what my question is. There should not be a problem when I tell you to do something directly. Come over here and fetch them and put them on,” Tony ordered you impatiently. “Before I lose my temper.”

As if you were moving against your own will, your legs moved forward, and you came to the desk. You reached up underneath your gown, his eyes raking over your exposed bare legs. Yanking down your underwear, you tossed them to the side by the desk and took the underwear from him. Hunger was swimming in his eyes, and you swallowed sharply. He was right; they were snug, the protruding part right up against your bud.

He clicked a button on the small remote and the underwear turned on. You grimaced your teeth as you felt the vibration, if only for a few moments.

Tony looked elated at the expression on your face. “Sweetheart, if you can dust everything here without coming, I’ll be so proud.” He leaned forward and winked, “But I’m going to make you work for it. Our work meetings are so boring, and I enjoy watching you women fighting against an orgasm.”

You hated this. You were to clean his office and he was going to be brushing your cunt with his toy.

He picked up the glass by his desk and opened the mini fridge, pulling out the ice cubes. He clunked some into his glass and poured some water over the top of it. Settling back into his chair he eyed you, waiting.

Swallowing your pride, you turned from him and began at the far end at the stacked bookcases. You shuddered as the panties worked at your clit, longer this time. He did not hit the button at regular intervals, so it caught you off guard every time. You would be holding a porcelain figurine and clench it, hoping to God you would not drop it. You were bound to break something the closer you got to coming undone. He was continuing on with his virtual meeting as if nothing untoward was happening to you. You bent to grab a book that had fallen off the shelf and he hit it again. You snapped back up and exhaled sharply, clenched as it vibrated relentlessly against you. You gave the book a quick brush over before placing it back on the shelf. You took a step and he hit it again.

Having had enough, you turned around and hissed, “You’re distracting me. How am I to work, Master Stark?”

He muted his microphone on his computer and blocked his camera before turning in his chair towards you. You saw the bulge in his pants and that only served to make you more upset with the situation. How much he was getting off on this was unbearable.

“That’s kind of the point of this. But, really, you’re distracting me, little vixen. With your hips and those soft sighs leaving your mouth every time I press the toy. It’s very beguiling,” Tony argued, relaxing back in his chair. You heard the ice clinking in his drink as he brought it to his lips. “And I’ll distract you however much I want to. Don’t you forget that. Get back to work. Now.”

He clicked his microphone and camera back on, resuming his meeting. His fingers were tapping the remote that was lying on the desk, teasingly. Pissed, you turned back.

It buzzed again only moments later, and you clenched, squeezing your thighs together as you brushed the bookcase.

“Ah ah. Naughty girl. Let me in,” Tony intoned, and you loosened. He took the opportunity and hit you again with stimulation.

You let out a frustrated noise and threw the duster onto the ground.

“Fuck this!” you exclaimed.

Tony hit the hide and mute on his computer quickly at your outburst, caught off guard. You got a small satisfaction out of that in the heat of the moment that you had thrown him off his game.

He turned towards you again, looking furious. That did nothing to throw water on your temper. You hastily tore the underwear off and threw them in his general direction. Tony’s eyes followed the descent of them to land at his black oxfords. “Send me back! I’ll take on an extra month — six even if I can just be back in the capitol building! This is torture!”

Tony drug his gaze from the panties back to you. His elbow was still resting on the arm of the chair.

Chest heaving, you watched him and slowly felt the dread creeping in. His eyes were hard, and you remembered who exactly you were dealing with. He had all the power in this relationship, and you had just lost your temper with him, outright disobeying something you had been ordered to do. And you may have embarrassed him in front of other Capitol council members in your outburst.

Tony stood from the chair and stalked over to you, peering down his nose at you. His voice was dangerously low when he said, “Go up to my bedroom and wait there for Steve and I. On the bed. Naked.”

Naked? You gulped.

Even you knew better than to argue with him with that scathing glare. You slunk away and you felt his glare burning into the back of your head as you closed the office door behind you.

<><><>

Curled in on yourself, you waited. It seemed to drag on forever, the waiting. You just wanted them to come up and belt you and get it over with.

When the door opened, you dared to raise your gaze, finding the both of them coming in. Their jackets, vests, and ties were gone. The top buttons of their dress shirts were undone, apparently have relaxed before this. Tony must have called Steve to his office and relayed to him what had transpired between the two of you.

You were doing your best to try to keep your breasts hidden, your legs crossed to hide yourself as well.

Tony came to a stop in front of you and he held out two fingers, pulling your chin up to force you to look at him directly. His stare was cold.

“You really pissed me off earlier,” he informed you point blank.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’m sure you are now. At the time, I know you meant every little ounce of venom you spat at me. And that I won’t abide. And neither will Steve. What goes on in one villa, goes on in the other. You will be well behaved in both.” When you did not say anything, his hand came to clench your jaw and you winced as he forced your mouth open as he mocked in a higher pitched voice, “’Yes, master. I understand’.”

“Yes, master, I understand,” you repeated, wincing against his tight grip.

“And we’ll make sure that sticks. We are in charge here,” Tony told you, letting go of your face and going to work on the rest of his buttons.

You had hardly noticed Steve had undressed himself to his briefs. You had been so focused on Tony’s imperious presence before you.

Steve was holding the panties you had thrown at Tony earlier. You felt sick as he told you, “Let me put these on you and don’t make it difficult.”

No. They were not going to beat you like you feared. They were going to do worse. Matilda came to mind being in Tony’s bed when you knew that was the last place she would have wanted to be and your eyes shot to the door before landing back on Steve who was coming close now.

Freeing himself from his boxers, Steve’s hand ran up and down his length. You cowered back, crawling back on the bed, tucking your feet to come onto your knees. You did not want to be in here. He smirked seeing your fight or flight kick in.

“Sweetpea, you know that’s not an option. Come back.” You tensed, shooting another quick look at the door. Steve’s expression melted from amusement to annoyance. “Now.”

You unfolded slowly, coming back to the end of the bed, your heart hammering. You had had sex before, but it had only been with the boy next door, the one you had thought once that you would marry before you had been brought here. Not like this. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you sat still as you could to let him slide them up and you allowed him to pull them all the way up. You spotted Tony still had the remote, a wicked grin on his face.

Steve was jutting out towards you, and you stared down at his length.

“Your hand,” Steve told you. “Wet it with your mouth.” You shakily did as he asked and he ordered, “More spit.” You did that as well. “Touch me.”

You felt humiliated but you did what he asked. He was thick and your hand slid up and down his length, wetting him with your spit. He moaned softly, his hips moving ever so slightly as you continued to stroke him off. The underwear vibrated and unlike before, they were not turning off. Tony was not giving you any reprieve. You tried to adjust so the movement was not directly on your bud but no matter what you tried, it was right there, and some angles made it worse, causing you to shiver at the direct contact. You caught Tony’s eyes and he was watching with heightened arousal, his erection evident in his slacks.

Steve was leaking precum in no time and you were short of breath with the stimulation on your cunt. You had shot a look at Tony finding him naked now, working himself up at the scene before him. You were getting the panties so wet and you wondered if that was going to affect the toy.

It reached a moment when Steve had had enough of just your hand. He stopped your movement and tossed your hand aside. You leaned back as he towered, his hands snatching at the sides of the panties and yanking them down your legs roughly, tossing them aside. You barely had time to react before he was picking you up in a fluid motion. You yelped at the airborne movement as he dragged you onto the bed with him. Steve laid down and pulled you in top of him, your hands planted by his head. His cock slid in with ease to your wet pussy, his lips sucking at your breasts.

The bed dipped with Tony’s added weight, and you heard him adjusting in between Steve’s legs, his hard cock brushing up against your tight ring. You realized fully what he was aiming for when his thumb met your ass and it was cold, covered in lube. You felt him squeeze some into you.

Having their way with you in your pussy was one thing but this was something else entirely, especially since Steve was already inside you. You had never had anal sex, let alone two men in you at once. This was their punishment.

Desperately, you begged, “Please don’t!”

Steve’s laugh was cruel. “‘Please don’t?’ Me? I’m not doing anything, darling. I’m just sitting here. Fully...seated... inside your tight cunt just enjoying it.”

You tried to look over your shoulder at Tony, “Master—"

But Steve grabbed your face and forced you to look back at him. “Relax…. Relax….” he breathed encouragingly. “You don’t want it to really hurt do you?”

There was no time for you to answer him as Tony started pressing in. It burned and you cried out. Steve was whispering in your ear to encourage you to relax, telling you to be a good girl. You choked on a cry, tears stinging as Tony continued to sink into your ass. You were so full.

“Aw, she’s crying, Tony.”

Tony sloppily kissed your temple, his hand tight on your throat. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You’re doing so well! Taking it like the little whore we knew you are. Take your punishment… you’ll be loving it in no time.”

He pulled out slowly before pushing back in, keeping a slow steady pace. You breathed, trying to focus on the way it was subsiding to pleasure. You sniffled, hanging your head as he continued using you, Steve still waiting inside. You were sure their cocks were brushing each other in that thin membrane.

“Well-behaved now too. Just gotta fill her with cock to train her. Make her needy,” Steve rasped. “Tell us how much you like it, you little slut.”

It was an order. And you were just a rag doll between them right now; what other choice did you have but to comply?

You could not lie to yourself either, you were being stimulated to a whole new level.

“I love it,” you breathed shakily, a sharp whine escaping as you felt them both rocking in and out. They had a rhythm going, like they had done this before.

Steve continued with his dirty talk, “You want it? You wanna be fucked?”

“Yes, I want it. I wanna be fucked.”

Tony groaned at your declaration, slapping across your ass as you rocked between them. The reverberation sent a tremor through you, further stimulating you.

Steve bit roughly at your nipple and you yelped. His breath was hot as he growled, “You wanna be used like a perfect doll. Right? You wanna behave? Because if you don’t we won’t finish.”

Every nerve was on fire, and you were losing yourself to the feeling. No, they had to finish.

You nodded fervently, “I wanna behave. I wanna behave.”

“You know how lucky you are to be filled? What women would beg to be in your spot? You should be thanking us!”

“Thank you for filling me up,” you cried as Steve buried himself roughly. The shame of your pleading and groveling was overshadowed by every brush of their cocks inside you, pushing you towards the edge to come tumbling down.

They were working you like the doll Steve promised you were going to be. Your breath was short, and you were beginning to shake on your arms.

You heard Tony groan, “There you go, there you go. Fuck!”

“I got her Tony,” Steve grunted, holding you tight as broken cries left you. “I’ll hold you, sweetheart.” You trusted him in your delirious state and collapsed against him as your body gave way. You shouted, stuffing a fist into your mouth. Steve yanked your hand away and you cried out. “Let us hear what we’ve done to you, you naughty girl.”

Steve held you in place as Tony sped up, thrusting quick. You continued moaning with the heat tearing through you.

“You’re gonna take every fucking drop,” Tony husked. “Perfect little cumslut!”

He groaned animalistically, his cum emptying into your ass. You sighed relieved and buried your face into Steve’s collarbone. Tony slid out and you whined pathetically feeling him spill out onto your thighs.

“Almost done, doll. You’re taking your punishment perfectly, shaping up so well,” Steve kissed along the side of your face. “Tony, you did nothing to help me stalling myself with those hard thrusts of yours. Felt every rib of your dick, you bastard.” You heard Tony chuckling as Steve resumed his own thrusts. You whined, so sensitive but he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, and he was finishing soon, spilling his seed into your aching pussy. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before he picked you up and rolled over to drop you onto the bed.

You laid there exhausted, bare in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

Steve was pleased. “I love that gaped, cum filled look. Especially on her.”

They sounded a million miles away, you still drowning in what had just happened.

Tony came into your sights, and you turned your head towards him, exhaustion in your bones. “Gather yourself and then come join me in the shower. I’ll give you that before you come back out here and strip my bed to clean the sheets. Can’t keep you off your duties for too long, can we? I won’t be giving you special treatment no matter how well that perfect ass of yours just milked me.”

He turned before stopping and then he added, “By the way, I will not be sending you back to the Capitol building. If we have our say, you won’t be going home any time soon.”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx

[the-fourth-knower]

Diary of a lost doe, part 1

A short fic where my character Annabelle writes in diaries

Fresh off losing her parents, Annabelle Flaches must contend with trying to fend for herself and her baby sister Angelica. And with Angelica talking to a mysterious green orb when she thinks Annabelle isn’t watching, things are only at the tip of the iceberg.

This is for me and Aquillis’s “half and half” AU, our ‘main’ AU. not to be confused with Aqui’s pack universe which is her underground re-write.

Due to the length I'm splitting this into two parts. This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Diary Enry 1, Day I dunno.

Okay here it is. First diary entry I guess. Gotta keep it brief, writing instruements are hard.

Been a few months since that day. We’re doing fine. Angie started another garden. Moved to a new spot.

Got some new things for the house. Old car door and a tire. Not sure what I’ll do with the tire gonna use the door as part of wall.

Finished roof this morning. Good thing 2, might rain.

Angie still sleps bad if not next to me. Writing while she’s curled up. Wasn’t for scars on ear and having to sleep in same clothes she’d look like we’re still home.

Gotta sleep now.

Diary Entry 2

Maybe got a job. Illegal probs but $ is $

Angelica talked more today. Good sign? Maybe she relapses back into not talking but progress.

I never thought i’d miss her annoying stupid “hey lets go explore a cave and not tell anyone bout what we’ll do” self. Never thought about losing mum and pa ei

Shit crying. Bye.

Diary entry 3

Diary didn’t get too wet yesterday.Don’t think bout mom and pa it ends badly.

I can’t afford to break down even if Angie’s sleeping

If I break down then Angie will get upset

I won’t put her through it

I won’t

…

Diary entry 54

Had to leave town but am 600 $ richer

Angie’s quiet again. But she didn’t complain bout us leavin

gonna go for a city maybe. more risk but more money and places to live.

Jadetown’s the city. Dunno too much bout it but mum liked it.

Should get there in maybe a cuple weeks or so

Angie’s sound asleep. No kicking or anything so that’s good

Hope the city’s okay. Angie hates crowds.

Need somewhere with not a lot of crowds to live at

…

Diary Entry 63

Been a hot second. Settling in Jadetown’s pretty hard.

Find a quiet spot in the slums. Pretty shitty now, but the two of us can make it work

Angie still isn’t talking, but she kept close to me while we made our way through the crowds. She seemed fine as long as she held my hand

Lost her a couple times, but not for long. She seemed upset bout it.

Sorry Angie.

I’ll do better. I promise.

...

Diary Entry 169 (it’s the morning but fuck it)

The nightmare happened again.

Angelica having her ear scared by those monsters. mum and pa being taken away in exchange for us being set loose

Only it loops around and around before it’s just cries and blood and knives and screams and crying and they’re all surrounding me judging me for just failing everyone because you’re a fucking failure

Haven’t had it a while. Don’t upset yourself, Angie needs you.

Diary entry 169? Night

Angelica almost killed some street thugs.

we caught some dumbass looking punks bullying some sort of chao. I think it’s a chao

I ran up to one like an idiot and gout in their face to know what they’re doin, and the things went dark. I got knocked out on my ass, apparenlty the big brute that led them butted me in the head. Asshole didn’t even let me get ready

I came to to Angie trying to shake me awake. When I looked around the punks were gone, there were plant vines all over, and the other kids that had gathered were a mix of crapped their pants and mouths on the floor

I asked angie bout it and she just said she took care of them and that the punks had run off

What the hell did she do? Usually I’m the one saving her? But she was having none of it today.

Oh the chao’s fine, weirdass chao though. Never seen chao that just cause flowers to grow around them or in their footsteps.

Made 30 $

Rib’s hurting and headache, Angie fast asleep. Time for bed.

Diary Entry 170

Chao’s bak.

Visited Angie’s garden for a while watchin me watchin it. It waved and left right around Angie gettin up.

Showed up again when we got back home. Angie hasn’t seen it yet. Good thing, she wanted to bring it with us. We can’t afford three mouths.

I don’t like it. We save its ass and now its stalking us.

Made nothin.

Ribs hurt less. Still a bitch.

Diary entry 171

Angie’s found the “chao”

She talked to it all morning when she thought i was napping. Couldn’t sleep, too afraid of bad dreams.

It doesn’t make chao sounds. Or it does but really weird ones.

Then it turned a green light ball for a bit and back into a chao

Angie liked that.

I don’t trust it. Even less.

Need to watch it.

Angie’s relaxed.

Made 5$.

Diary Entry 172 morn

Nightmare again

Diary Entry 172 night

Angie got excited, claimed that she “found Trevor”

he lived near us back in our old home

Had to tell her no, every red mouse we see is not Trevor.

She says that Trevor and his family were gonna move here, pretty inistent too.

Man she gets caught up on the smallest things

Made 20$

Diary Entry 173

Chao returned while i was working. Left Angie on her own

Shes seemed like she was having a fun time being able to talk with someone

She’s not made friends much. Maybe i’m being too hard on the ‘chao’

Still gotta watch it. It could be manipulating her

Haven’t told her I know bout the chao yet.

Should i?

Not now. Angelica is sleeping.

Made 5$

Diary Entry 174

‘Trevor’ spotting 2. Angie wanted to go bug the person. So we went and sure enough as we got closer Angie changed her mind. It was a rat, not a mouse she said.

How can she tell the difference?

No Angie and chao visit. Unless it was while i slept in. but why would she be secretive bout it?

Saw the punk bitch again today. Looked like he crapped his pants when he saw Angie and she glared at him. That’s my sister.

Made 60$

…

Diary Entry 364

Got a new diary. Last entry for this one. Things going well. Got a good thing going for myself.

Angie found a new plant today, and now she’s got it in her garden.

Loved the look on her face when I got it for her.

Made 50$

Angelica’s chatted with the Chao again. Sort of like, is her guardian I think. Or is that its name

Guess good bye diary 1. Really weird to do but it feels right.

Angie’s sleeping well enough on her own. She mumbles but that seems it.

Do I do a good job keeping her safe

Diary 2 Entry 1

Managed to find a new diary. Keeping the old one just cause, and because I have the storage. For a couple of street bum does, we’ve got a decent enough house going. Been able to put it together from bits and bobs lying around, Angie even threw in her hat and added her own touches.

Looks ugly as hell with the plants holding things together and it’s all a mish mash of junk and crap I found, but it’s our mishmash of junk and crap.

Also saved up enough and am making enough to afford more than one pen and even some pencils. So I can write more often. Just felt like writing

Angie’s started to get more vocal again. I think she’s catching onto the fact the way I’ve been making money is less than honest a lot of the time.

I’m not going to sell myself for it though. I’m not degrading myself with that and nayone who fucking tries is going to a hospital.

And if any of those freaks dare go near Angie there won’t be enough left for a morgue to pick up.

Oh, and the chao’s still around. I can feel it. Angelica loves it, I think. I don’t trust it entirely, yet. But, it hasn't been a danger for the past months. So I think it’s actually a good thing.. Angie calls it Guardian. Maybe it's our own Guardian Angel.

Made 65$ today.

Good journal entry me. You got talkative. Writative? Whatever.

...

Diary 2 Entry 23

Got into a fight today, that was fun. The punks from when I helped save Guardian decided to jump me when Angelica was at the house. Guess they figured they could jump me without little sis to back me up. Too bad for them, when I don’t get suckered I’m damn good at defending myself. Sent them packing. Got a bit bruised. Why is it always the ribs with those guys.

Admittedly. I didn’t have to beat the crap out of them. But talk shit get hit, I say. They shouldn’t have been trash talking me when I was walking by.

-

Angelica was upset when I got back. Should’ve expected that, really. Don’t know why I didn’t think she would notice me being hurt, she’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Always has. Kinda weird.

But, she did try and heal me a bit. Somehow, she’s gotten better at it -Ever since she's met Guardian, she’s gotten more control over that healing ability she has. I just need to make sure she doesn’t overdo herself again.

I don’t know anything much bout healing magic or whatever it is, but I don’t think what Angie has is normal. I think she uses herself for it. Whatever healing she tries to do just eats away at her. And whatever it was was enough to frighten Pa to move us in the first place

-

I think part of me might blame ANgie for it. For getting us out of the safety of where we lived near Agateton and moving.

But if we didn’t move would we really have been safe still. And it wasn’t Angie’s fault she did what she did, it was Pa who pushed for it and Mum who went with it.

So do I blame them? I don’t want to. The monsters that took them and hurt Angie are the ones to blame.

But they wouldn’t have found us if we didn’t move near that forest. But Mum and Pa couldn’t have seen it coming.

Ugh. brain hurts. Fuck this mind screw bullshite

Spent 123.54$ today. Groceries and supplies. Tampons are stupid expensive but I want to have a decent supply for when we need them. Also some food.

Made 13$. Gonna need to work more to recoup.

No idea if Angie talked with Guardian. She still thinks I don’t know anythin bout it.

At least, I think she doesn’t. She gets defensive and acts like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I wonder why she does that. Wonder if it’s tied with how I react to her saying she’s found Trevor for the umpteenth time.

Maybe I should press her bout it. But I don’t want to get her worked up over nothin.

Okay that’s enough, my mind’s getting wandering now and I stay up if I do that.

...

Diary 2 Entry 54

Someone showed up with a bunch of robots earlier. Cause quite the commotion, sent people running, the usual.

Apparently he set up shop in the rich quarter and is causing all sorts of troubles. People have been coming to and fro a lot the past few days.

Angie got worried over explosions. Had to calm her down, explain that whatever it was probably wasn’t coming here. She asked me bout the people there and if they needed help - told her that someone would take care of the rich fops. That’s what they do after all. Who gives a shit about two practically orphaned kids.

Not sure if she bought it. Gotta keep an eye on her. Might need to pull an all nighter.

And we don’t have any energy drinks or coffee. I could go grab one, no one is gonna give a shit if I do, not in this current environment.

Gotta stop for now. Gotta focus on Angie not some stupid book.

Entry 55

Angie’s missin

[in-tua-deep]

Hufflepuff Five is so good! Are the Hargreeves lives as students as adventurous like the main crew from HP? What about the Ministry of Magic? Would they get involved if someone caught wind of the sibling’s powers that weren’t just magic?

Their lives are SO wack honestly like, they just vibe. They just are going through their magical youth being absolute feral children who don’t trust adults as far as they can throw them while trying to hide their weird funky powers and also ravenously going through magical feats like they’re going out of style

Luther is every sibling’s go-to practice partner because apparently durability extends to being like? Slightly magic resistant? Basically if you hit Luther with a spell it will only be like, maybe half power? So the siblings use him as a magical shield half the time and an experiment the other half and Luther just Suffers Through This until it all goes wrong and he ends up as a werewolf, oops

(But at least Ben is alive! Honestly the only reason Luther wasn’t straight up mauled to death was a combo of his durability, Ben’s proficiency in healing magic, and Ben managing to befriend the acromantulas)

(Luther eventually gets a sense of humor about this after long years of working on accepting himself and constantly threatens to bite his siblings or makes comments about them looking extra tasty when they irritate him)

Allison is a quidditch star, super popular and athletic as all hell. She probably ends up being the Slytherin team captain, honestly. Allison is all glamor and charisma and in her later years of hogwarts has an absolute blast. Allison is very much functional passing so she’s usually the front man to get the professors off their backs, but she also is the front man for a lot of the shit that the family sell for extra spending money. Five and Ben might make potions, but Allison rules the underground black market in slytherin with an iron fist (which gets them into shenanigans involving other kids who Owe Debts)

Diego is on the gryffindor quidditch team and so him and Allison are constantly at each other’s throats on the pitch (Allison sometimes rumors him during matches when she gets within earshot which makes all of the siblings yell at him but she maintains that he gets to use his stupid powers to score points so she should get to as well). Diego gets roped into everything because he’s super soft. He starts a lot of fights because he has vigilante genes so he serves a lot of detentions. His house tolerates him losing them points because the man is a wizard with a quaffle

(Diego and Allison actually practice a lot together, which their respective teams are like HMMMM over but they’re siblings and slytherin knows that Allison would never hesitate to knock Diego off his broom and wave cheerily as he falls to his death, and gryffindor is aware that Diego can, should, and must throw a ball directly at Allison’s dumb face if she gets too close to him because of the Cain Instinct)

(Honestly Allison and Diego do a LOT for interhouse unity, showing that you can still be ride or die for each other while also wanting greatly to kill each other uwu)

Ben is too independent for his own good, which is what gets him into trouble. He likes gardening, and he likes herbs, and sometimes he’s just GOTTA go into the forbidden forest on a full moon to gather these very specific ingredients, c’mon. He also just. Likes spending time in the forbidden forest. He’s Hagrid’s favorite student because he doesn’t bat an eye at all the weird magical creatures, bc homeboy got an eldritch horror in his navel. Ben makes friends with the acromantulas (who have a healthy respect for him after the Horror ate a few of them), patiently avoids the centaurs, and bribes the pixies into giving him their shed wings through liberal application of jam stolen from the Hogwarts kitchens. 

You know what Allison is functional passing and Ben is distinguished passing, all their teachers assume that Ben is the most put together of them but they’re WRONG. They haven’t seen Ben at two in the morning yanking Vanya out of ben because if they don’t break into greenhouse four and help those poor fucking plants the first years are tending to they’re all going to DIE and that’s not fair??? ben is single handedly going to save all those poor plants (and all those first year’s grades)

Vanya is just VIBING, he ends up coming out as trans in fourth year and gets to be roommates with Ben which is pretty sweet. If only Ben didn’t drag him into shenanigans?? All the teachers are like “ah yes Vanya, such a quiet boy not like his siblings at all” but Vanya can will should and must climb onto the roof of the astronomy tower to play his violin because He Just Likes To Be Tall. Vanya once punched a snobby ravenclaw kid in the nose and then stared them down saying “the teachers will never believe you.”

Vanya steals Luther to practice his powers with in unused classrooms the most?? he’s durable. he’ll be fine if Vanya blasts him into a wall with his powers lol

Vanya’s solution to all their problems is “do you want me to blow it up with my powers?” or “do you want me to kill them for you?” 

(All of the siblings now refuse to duel with Vanya except for Luther bc Vanya is RUTHLESS. He WILL murder his siblings (almost) given the chance. They’re all so lucky that Ben is so good at healing and carries extra vials of healing potions on his person otherwise Madame Pomfrey would be VERY CONCERNED)

Five and Klaus probably get into the most shenanigans? Klaus gets less and less afraid of ghosts the more he runs into nice ones like Fred Weasley. Fred also lovingly nurtures Klaus’s absolutely terrible sense of humor and encourages him to prank the whole school. Klaus knows ALL the secret passageways thanks to Fred, a previous owner of the Maurauder’s map, so he’s just like. Constantly in the walls. He once dropped out of the ceiling to get to transfiguration in time and nobody even commented on it because Klaus is just Like That.

(A few people see Klaus’s boney elbows and knobbley knees and thinks he’s a good target for bullying just because he’s a slytherin and interhouse awfulness absolutely it at an all time high so recently after the war. YEAH his siblings step in and put the fear of god into any bullies, but Klaus fights like a cornered raccoon.)

Five is just way too smart and curious for his own good. He likes to poke around, figure things out, and also make money. Five does people’s homework, charges them for potions or rune work, tutors, dismantles shit in the chamber of secrets, ALSO explores the secret passageways (and finds some that weren’t on the map), is lovingly bullied into Friendship Activities with his housemates, breaks into the other houses’s common rooms for funsies, and keeps getting fed by the house elves who found out he can ‘apparate’ like them (without a wand) and have apparently adopted him against his will

Five is the sibling who has his fingers in like. ALL the pies. and just constantly pops up and drags them into things. Five will be helping Klaus with potions homework then glance up and tell Diego he’s cashing in the favor he’s owed for carving runes into Diego’s knives and that Diego now gets to break into Douglas Eddington’s room to steal back Lana Delwich’s diary so that Five can trade it to Lana for her rare Solomon Babik chocolate frog card which Five can give to Barnaby Beeson in exchange for a Large Distraction of Five’s Choice and a sketchy book on ward breaking which Five needs so he can break into the headmaster’s office to get a confiscated dark magic book that has some information Five needs to alter a potion that he’s probably going to make Luther drink later

Five is the sibling who is like “Ugh, I thought I was trading for some nundu ingredients but now i have a Whole Baby Nundu in the basement :/”

Which, of course, Klaus wants to keep despite the poison breath.

“This is literally one of the most dangerous magical creatures, we are not keeping it.” Luther says, unimpressed. However, he definitely has it cradled in his arms and makes kissy faces at it when he thinks no one is looking. (Apparently baby toxic nundu breath only makes Luther sneeze, so there’s that?)

“If you guys are arrested for smuggling I am not bailing you out.” Is Allison’s only decree about the matter.

Honestly I wouldn’t be shocked if someone DID eventually find out about one of the siblings’ powers - however, they would come to entirely the wrong conclusion about them?? Because this is a world of MAGIC and so everything magical has to have a magical explanation, right???

Luther is durable as all fuck???? Uhhhhh maybe he has some like. Troll blood or giant blood something back in his family line, obviously not something he would ever want the world to know about bc of species-ism

Allison can make you do whatever you want with her words????? Maybe she’s part veela? With that charm appeal?

Five is doing. Wandless apparation?? I mean, that’s rare as FUCK but wandless magic is,,, grudgingly accepted though it’s usually only used for small or very familiar spells and not usually something as complex as apparation but OKAY just sit him down and forbid him from doing it anymore bc boy boutta be SPLICED or some shit

Klaus can. Klaus can talk to ghosts. Who are not full ghosts. Hmm. huh. Maybe it’s?? A family ability??? a super rare one? like being a metamorphagus? (What the fuck??????? what the FUCK???????)

Primarily the kids started off paranoid because they believed that their abilities indicated that they weren’t the same type of magic, and they didn’t want to be returned to their father, and then it progressed into “these abilities might make people scared of us (looking at you allison, with your imperius-ass abilites)” or “we can’t afford that kind of scrutiny or curiosity about our powers (they might find out luther is a werewolf or something idk)” and “if we are ‘desirable’ children with ‘rare abilities’ the government might try to split us up and adopt us into weird pureblood families or something OR might try to lock us up (like where would they even put Ben??)”

honestly if ben ever got found out he’d just deadpan “it’s a curse, hand me the black wormroot would you?” and be like “oh yeah it’s under control i just go vibe in the woods every so often and rip up a tree or something. I think the horror wants to be the whomping willow when it grows up actually, so just don’t get too close when i’m in the horror zone. if you can live with a murder tree on campus you can live with me on campus”

someone sees vanya fuck something up with his powers and is like ???? and Vanya is just like “accidental magic lol” 

“aren’t you... a bit... old for accidental magic...”

“accidental. magic.”

[mimiplaysgames]

Terraqua Week Day 2 (Rivalry)

Summary: Growing up with your best friend is the greatest joy, the greatest nuisance, the greatest heartache. (The one where they kiss after their fight in Radiant Garden). || Word Count: 6,705

Read on AO3

A/N: My submission for the second day of @terraquaweek !! Title is from a quote from Eraqus from BBS. It’s pretty much the only line in the game that sums up Terra and Aqua, and it’s partly the reason why they’re so amazing. This whole rivals to lovers thing is so much like enemies to lovers and I WANT TO EAT IT ALL. I’m especially proud of this one - I had so much writing it!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

for when equal powers clash, their nature is revealed

CHILDHOOD

 It was a strange dream but she doesn’t remember it when she wakes up, just that it left her with a coppery taste in her mouth and a fog blanketing her thoughts. Something is coming, and she can’t prepare for it. 

Aqua decides to tell her best friend about it. 

Terra is waiting for her in the woods. They like to hike to the lake, to listen to the birds in the summer. They like to spar away from the training grounds of the castle sometimes, away from the Master’s eyes so they could practice without any scrutiny. She’s grateful to have Terra—he’s just as crazy as her when it comes to their studies. Books past midnight? Sign me up. Spar for five hours? Your ass is grass. Forgo an entire night of sleep to talk about outside worlds, about their worries, their pride, finally being a Master? We won’t be efficient for training tomorrow, but here’s what I’m thinking. 

She finds him at the mouth of the forest, a trail down from the waterfall. Terra is lobbing balls of fire, an excited grin on his face, itching to get moving. Too much energy for a fourteen-year-old in the morning. 

“What does that mean?” Terra asks her when she describes the dream.

Well, she can’t really describe it. Nothing happened. Darkness. Questions spoken in her head, worries that there was a darker darkness moving around in the shadows stalking her. A nagging suspicion that inside its mouth was something she should have pulled out. 

“Nothing’s going to get you here. You’re safe,” Terra says, though she doesn’t need reassurance. “Should we go back?” 

“No, please.” Aqua keeps her nose high. “The lake is a good place to rest.”

But they wouldn’t rest. They both love the thrill: training their magic, the thought of an upcoming exam two weeks from now, essays. They can’t help themselves. 

Terra punches the air, an energy blast shooting out from his arm. Another fire spell, his favorite. When he gets too involved though, too much, he becomes obsessive—obsessed with winning, obsessed with tripping her up, obsessed with outlasting her. The fury in how he builds his attacks is what makes Terra a dangerous opponent.

He’s perfect.

Aqua dodges and summons an ice spell to repel him, sweeping her kick so it spreads out. That’s the best strategy—tire him out, make him run after her, evade and exhaust, evade and exhaust, strike him when he’s almost done. 

Pull. She hears. Pull from it.

One of his attacks breaks her barrier, and she grins, twirling while she heals herself. Every moment she stumbles is another opportunity to learn how to beat him. They’ll talk about their duel after they finish. They’ll gloss over technique and how to improve. Every time they spar, their bond is reforged, connected, strengthened, unbreakable. 

Terra throws another blow. 

Pull.

This one catches her off guard. 

Aqua gasps and shields herself with her arm without a spell to protect her. Terra chokes on her name, too late to warn her.

A light explodes in her face, a flash of flower petals, a spell so instinctual she can’t articulate where it comes from. Her hand wraps around metal, as though an invisible hand has shoved it to her, strong but as light as her feet, a thrum deep underneath, a heartbeat. Its arrival blocks the attack with a barrier.

“A-Aqua?”

She holds her Keyblade in her hand. 

“Huh.” Terra grimaces, stepping back. 

The Keyblade is curved, striking at the tips, like a slice of movement. Blue and silver, a cool brush of a touch as chilling as snow on her fingertips but warm all the same, the feeling of a beloved embracing her. Aqua jumps in excitement, squealing. She had drawn images in her journal for what it would look like. This is better, much more beautiful.

“I don’t have a name for it, yet,” she says, laughing.

Terra doesn’t laugh with her. “Congrats,” he says, his enthusiasm on a chokehold, his hand rubbing his hip because it can’t find his pocket. 

Oh. He’s two years older than her, the first child to come to the Land of Departure, and he can’t conjure his Keyblade yet.

“Terra?”

“I’m fine.” He’s not.

“Wait.” She follows him into the thicket. He’s speedwalking, trying to get away from her. “Don’t be sad. Yours will come soon.” He doesn’t slow down. “Maybe I can help.”

Terra scoffs, scorched. At least he stops. “Or maybe not.”

Aqua fiddles with the tip of her wonderful Keyblade, rolling it onto her palm. “I was thinking how happy I was sparring with you. We’re best friends and I was thinking that…” Heat pools into her cheeks. “I was thinking we’d be best friends forever. Then she came to me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “That’s nice.”

“I summoned mine in the middle of danger,” she offers. “Maybe you need the same.”

He arches a brow. But he softens, blinking back tears. “You think that would work?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“We could tie you down. I can cover you in ice.”

Terra’s face contorts, as if stopping a snort. “That’s the best you can offer?”

“Should I hang you by your toes and put leeches in your shirt?”

Terra cracks a smirk and she sighs, relieved. 

Once he’s able to summon his own Keyblade, they could go home and declare the semester over. The Master will be so impressed. 

Aqua calls for an ice spell to stay near. With the Keyblade, it’s much more natural, as if the chasm she normally has to pray through is now a step away. “I won’t hold back,” she warns.

Terra brings his fists together, heat simmering off his skin as a fire spell starts to build. “Good.”

He is the first to strike. Aqua dodges as the flames lick under her shoes, swinging her Keyblade forward. Ice sparks out from its tip and shoots forward in a straight line. It’s so much easier to aim now. Terra sways his hands into a cupping motion, as if picking up dirt into a bowl. Flames burst out of the ground, creating a wall that melts the ice before it hits him.

But Terra has a huge disadvantage: because she’s faster at summoning spells with the Keyblade, she can race around him, dodging everything he comes up with. He’s stuck in one spot, forced to place all his focus on bringing his magic to him in order to pull from it, the worst kind of exposure in a battlefield imaginable.

He wants this, doesn’t he? To be pushed into summoning it?

“Don’t hold back,” he says when she hesitates. He throws a burst of thunder at her. 

“Terra, I don’t like this.”

“You promised,” Terra says, closing a fist. He takes several moments to meditate on a spell, and Aqua stops. He’s trying to summon ice, a weaker command for him. But Terra is smart and Terra is capable. He pushes what he’s conjured with a force strong enough to crush her into a tree. 

She clicks her tongue when he follows that immediately with a fire spell. It nearly singes her hair, and she retaliates in kind—ten fold. Her fire hits him directly on the shoulder, sputtering onto the bush behind him, spreading like wings on the greenery, blackening the tree nearby and jumping to others. 

“Aqua!” Terra grips his shoulder and gapes at the collateral, which is moving too fast to seem real.

“Terra, we have to—”

“Come on!”

Ignoring his injury, he scrambles towards the lake, Aqua following close behind. The forest fire beats heavy behind them, a nasty gray suffocating the sky. The heat molts onto them, the smoke thick and invasive, visibility covered by a layer of graininess. Terra throws himself into the lake and draws a circle on the surface with his good hand. The smoke is now black.

“You need to heal first,” Aqua says, coming up behind him and placing her hand on his shoulder, whispering a spell. Green petals kiss his charred shirt, and he can move his arm better, gathering the water into an invisible bowl to carry back. 

Aqua does the same. She tries sealing the fire with her Keyblade so it stops spreading so far. So much work that seems like it’s doing nothing. So much earth that Terra is throwing onto the fire when the water sizzles away. Aqua almost collapses from the adrenaline keeping her standing, from the sweat and soot filling her eyes, from coughing but no matter how much, she can’t clear her throat. 

The Master finally arrives and points his Keyblade into the sky. A storm cloud gathers, a wave of water to hush everything. Aqua doesn’t know what comes next, only that Terra is picking her up in his arms.

It isn’t until after she wakes up in the infirmary that she realizes what a shithole they’ve dug themselves into.

It’s raining, trickling down the small window that sits above the bed, behind the pillow. Wooden shelves line the walls, filled with potions that she can pronounce and ones that she can’t. Some are so expired the Master has never opened them. Flasks, beakers, needles, syringes, scalpels, gloves spread across the table. Medical books about the nervous system and the heart are plenty here. There should be two about herbal remedies, but they’re gone.

She hears the Master and Terra bickering on the other side of the door.

“Am I to believe,” the Master says, icy and sharp, “the day she summons her Keyblade for the first time and a sudden, devastating forest fire is to be simply spooned together as a coincidence?”

Terra is quiet at first. “No, Master.”

“Of course not,” he bites.

“I was angry, sir.” This shocks Aqua. “I couldn’t control my magic for a moment.”

That’s not true. He needs to say it was her fault. She didn’t know her own strength and she tried too hard—

The Master scoffs. “I am so disappointed,” he says, his voice shaking in a way she’s never heard before. “I do not have the words. I can’t bear to look at you.”

Her heart sinks. She can’t imagine. She can’t imagine how awful Terra must feel. 

The door opens, and Terra slips inside with a gathering of fresh herbs in his hand. His face is ashen and pale. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice brittle. He’s about to sob.

Aqua moves and flinches. Her arm. “Ugh.”

“Don’t move.” He rips the leaves off and stuffs them into a mortar. “Your arm is badly burnt. The Master already healed you, but you need longer term care.” Somehow, he doesn’t cry.

Aqua pulls the sheet over her down. Red splotches trail from the shoulder down to the elbow. The Master took care of the severe scarring, but it hurts like she’s still in a pyre. “The fire?”

Terra sniffs and mixes the herbs with the pestle. “The Master took care of it. He hasn’t given me my punishment yet.” Briskly, he approaches her, spreading the concoction over her skin. “This should work better than a potion.”

“Our herb master,” she says, hoping it would make him smile. It doesn’t. Terra has dedicated himself to potion making and teas, considering that healing spells are hardest for him. When he finishes balming her in the mix, he reaches for bandages, holding her by the wrist so he can wrap the entire arm. “You shouldn’t move this for a while.”

“Terra?”

He doesn’t look at her, pinning the bandages in place. 

“Thank you,” she says.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

Terra climbs into the bed with her. It’s a narrow cot, the mattress thin and overused, the sheets washed too many times that its threads fray. Terra holds her good hand, bringing it up between their faces. Tears roll down his cheeks and pool on the pillow. “You’re going to be okay,” he says, “right?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. The mix soothes the superficial burns but it takes its time relieving the stabbing pain that comes with such an intense injury. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

Terra frowns, staring at the folds of the pillow under his face. “I didn’t want him yelling at you.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow—”

“Nah.” He wills a smirk and it looks fake. “We should… celebrate your accomplishment, you know?”

For some reason, it makes her guilty. “Are you really that mad at me?”

“What? No.” He bites his lip. “No, I just… I’m stupid.”

Aqua stares at him. “You’re not.” 

He scoffs. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t fail at the most basic part of being a wielder.”

“Your Keyblade?”

He shakes his head. It’s not fair.

“Why didn’t it come?”

“I don’t know.” He sighs.

Aqua gives his hand a light squeeze. “Maybe I was wrong.”

“Pssh. Maybe?” He grins.

She would hit him on the shoulder, but she hurts too much. “Maybe my approach isn’t your approach.”

“Meaning what?”

“Maybe your Light needs something different.”

His smile falls, like that of a lost and abandoned child. “But I don’t know what it wants from me.”

“Hmmm.” Aqua thinks hard, staring at the way his eyebrows furrow as he thinks with her. “You like to protect.”

“Okay?”

“Maybe your Keyblade isn’t about connecting with others or making friends like mine is. Maybe you’re happiest protecting and taking care of them.”

Terra purses his lips, blushing. “I guess.”

“Look.” She lifts her bandaged elbow, wincing. “You took care of me.”

“I took care of a sap.”

“Who was the one crying over me?”

“My secret evil twin. He wants to make me look bad.”

“What kind of a joke is that?” She sticks her tongue out. “Sometimes, I hate your face.”

Terra laughs for real this time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

BEFORE THE EXAM

 The books she needs are not where they’re supposed to be on the shelf.

“Terra!” she calls. 

“Shhh,” she hears from the other side. Terra is sitting on one of the numerous tables in the library, a long, five-story ballroom with windows for walls, the ceiling a skylight. It allows for the sun to beam on them from all directions, on ornate gold-plated shelves with ladders on wheels for the books out of reach. Of all the desks he could have chosen, figures he’d be right here where she’s frantically searching, just to spite her. “We’re in a library,” he says, voice low.

Aqua refuses to whisper. “We’re the only ones here.”

“How rude.”

“To who?”

Terra gestures to the open book splayed under his hand. “I’m reading.”

He has seven other books stacked next to his parchment and pen. Preliminaries start tomorrow—the preliminaries that would determine their eligibility for the Mark of Mastery next year—and essays are due. 

On top of the stack is Darkness and the War for Light, right above The Stars As Your Guides and the ever-necessary Affairs of the Heart.

“I need those,” she says.

“You know the rules—”

“They’re arbitrary.”

“—first dibs, first reads.”

“You can’t read them all at once.”

“Watch me, I’m impressive.” Terra bites his lip to restrain a snort, those deep eyes waiting for her reaction, his strong cheekbones suspended in a smirk. She wants to punch him in the face. 

Aqua exhales. Without saying a word, she snatches the book at the top of the stack before he could stop her, bolting for the other side of the table. Terra scrambles out of his chair, tackling her from her behind so he could yank it out of her arms. She’s laughing under the weight of his chest, heat rising to her cheeks.

“You’ll have to fight me for it,” she warns. 

Terra snorts, his breath brushing her shoulder. “Really?” He grips the book and pulls. He’s stronger than her and they both know it.

The trick to defeating an opponent so much larger than you is to hit them at their most exposed. Aqua elbows him in the gut, and leaves Terra clutching his side so she could take a seat at the table, where her own unfinished essay awaits. 

“I guess that’s fair,” he groans.

“You sought a challenge, so accept your defeat.”

Aqua flips pages of Darkness—this year, it was especially important that they recognize signs of Darkness lurking near. Rage, scheming, impure intentions, greed, selfishness, fear. They’re present in subtle ways. Sometimes people act without realizing. Sometimes people are fully aware. Both are dangerous.

She grunts when she’s shoved over. 

Terra brings his parchment with him when he fills her seat, his hips so wide that she’s left with the corner. 

“It could be more comfortable,” he complains. His body is warm.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing my essay, but you took my book.”

The one he wasn’t using. Aqua inhales. “Terra—”

“I had first dibs. You broke the honor code, so you left me with no choice.” He smirks. His face is nose to nose with hers, and she imagines closing the gap. “We can share.”

“Fine,” she musters, averting her gaze. It’s awkward staring at him when his eyes look like they’re about to swallow hers.

They work. The book sits between their respective essays, the scratch of pen on paper the only noise filling the room, especially when he strikes long lines across words he no longer wants. He leans over her shoulder to read, his breath heavy on her cheek. If they were in different places, if he had her in an embrace, she could probably feel for his heartbeat. 

Though this isn’t something she should be thinking about right now, not when she’s trying to read the three tenants in combating the Darkness. Vow Number One: Do not give yourself to Temptation. 

“You’re very distracting,” he says, his voice so close to her ear that it sounds like yelling. 

She jumps. He took the words right out of her mouth. “Speak for yourself. You’re too big for this chair.”

“There’s one right next to you.” She could hear how much he loves this.

“I sat here first.”

He leans back and wraps his arm around the backrest. “I have to defend my space.”

“Then you can squirm.”

He huffs, and it suspiciously sounds like he’s pleased with that. Aqua reads a sentence, scans the current page, and flips to the next one.

Terra swats her hand and turns it back. “I wasn’t finished with that one.”

Aqua would scream if she already didn’t enjoy this. She’ll never admit that out loud. “So you’re just,” she starts slowly, “going to police how fast I read this book?”

“Depends on where I am.” 

“You’re slowing me down.”

“You’re not being considerate.”

“I can do the same thing.” She flips the page back to her spot. 

“Aqua,” he warns.

“Oh, you didn’t like that?” Aqua smirks at him. 

He eyes her and smiles. “You make me want to scream.”

Like a mind reader. “Don’t forget—we’re in a library.”

“Okay.” He pulls the book closer to him.

“Okay.” She pulls it back. 

Terra strengthens his grip on the book, leaning forward and wrapping his other arm around her waist. To use her as a counter-weight, to push off of her so he can claim the prize, Aqua knows this, but her heart jumps at the touch. He drives her crazy in the most delicious way. He’s addictive.

“Nice to see my students finding some time for leisure,” the Master’s voice says, approaching them from the entrance. “A healthy activity during such a time of stress, if I do say so myself. I commend the both of you.”

Aqua doesn’t know about healthy when she’s thinking about all manners of touching. Terra slips away from her. Is the Master being facetious? Should they move to different chairs? Or would that make them look more guilty?

“Terra is deliberately sabotaging my essay,” Aqua says, voice shaky, her sleeve coming up to cover her blush. Terra has his elbows on the table, both of his fists hiding the lower half of his face.

Eraqus tucks a binder under his arm, glancing over their work. Aqua isn’t sure if she’s seeing things, but she swears that’s a smirk underneath his moustache.

“Well,” he says. “These will be the last essays you will write, if everything runs smoothly tomorrow. Quite a reward for all these years of hard work, yes?”

Terra and Aqua nod. 

Eraqus nods along with them, as awkward as the collapse of clothes leaving you naked. “Don’t work too hard,” he advises, and Aqua wants to melt under the table. “Tomorrow will come regardless. Enjoy the time when it is good.”

The Master leaves the library with a different atmosphere. 

“Last essay ever,” Terra repeats, mumbling to himself. He’s frowning. They don’t make a move to a different chair, as if doing so would have admitted some secret neither of them even know but nevertheless, they don’t want anyone else to find out. “Then there’s next year.”

Next year.

Some of Terra’s pages have whole paragraphs crossed out. Maybe that’s why he’s better than her at essay-writing. He goes beyond. He’ll scrub out parts he’s already written when he realizes they no longer serve him, drenched in ink blots when he notices small errors. Even with a complete essay, Terra will rewrite it from scratch, to prepare clean pages with no mistakes. Aqua doesn’t consider herself lazy with essays. She just never had a difficult time writing something the Master will want to read.

But all the effort Terra puts into his work means that he considers angles she’s never thought of before. On the subject of Darkness and Temptation, Terra writes: The Master of Masters writes of Temptation: “To tempt a snake for its loyalty reaps safety in the future,” (Affairs of the Heart, pg. 236). Giving in to Temptation when a Light is about to expire harbors selfishness, and that beacons the Darkness to cloud our minds. If we are doubtful, we too welcome the Darkness. However, if we deny the very thing our Hearts want, when we should be following Them as our closest allies, then we are unable to persevere. I question whether Temptation can only have negative connotations. Our duty is to make sure the Light is in balance, and perseverance is key. How are we supposed to keep the Light bright if ours are too dim? Should we not enjoy our own lives as we see fit, follow our Hearts to bring us fulfillment? Should we not make love, or enjoy the dessert we bake? These trivialities are the very thing people hold dear and protect. It is not our calling to enjoy them, but if we are, then our Hearts are at peace. If happiness is shared, then it is Light worth protecting, even our own. It feeds our strength.

Aqua can’t write like that.

Tomorrow, they’ll spar under the Master’s scrutiny. If they pass, they’ll do it again next year and finish their studies once and for all. Ever since Terra conjured his Keyblade, he’s treated his fights like he’s a bulldozer. Tricky to outmaneuver, keeping her on her toes. 

He’s still the best sparring partner she could ask for, the best teacher when it comes to outlasting opponents. Her only equal.

“I’m nowhere near finished,” Aqua says. 

“Looks like we’re both pulling all-nighters tonight.”

Aqua sighs, and this prompts Terra to hold her hand under the table, interlacing their fingers together. She wants to curl into him, feel what it’s like to really hold him close. 

“We’re going to do fine.” Terra says, his voice soft, but he’s so close he fills her mind and every sensation in her body. He rubs her thumb with his. 

“All-nighters aren’t pleasant,” she says, thinking ahead to a yard of headaches and yawns. “We’ll need energy.” This is the first opportunity to stand up. “I can make coffee and tea for us.”

“And lots of food.” Terra stands with her. “Protein. Nuts are good for energy boosts. I can make us enough meals to sustain us for the rest of the night.”

They’re speaking with the intention to leave something behind that they don’t want to address, packaging their words away from the obvious. Aqua fiddles with her fingers.

Terra moves his essay over. “Maybe we should work on opposite ends of the table,” he says, clearing his throat. His voice is shy. 

“So we can focus.”

“Yeah.” He sounds desperate to agree but also…disappointed? “You can take the book. For now. Consider it my peace offering.” 

“It wasn’t an honorable battle to begin with.” She moves hers over too, measuring in her mind how big of a feast they’d fill the table with. They’ll need more, enough for Ven to pig out every once in a while.

“Says the cheater.”

“You were the one stealing my book!”

“You broke the rules.”

“It wasn’t a fair setup.”

“Aqua, I’m shocked.” Terra feigns displeasure, holding his hand over his heart. “I thought I knew you better.” 

She groans. She hates his beautiful, impeccable face sometimes. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

THEN...

 The conversation is a combustion she can’t prevent from happening. It isn’t supposed to be this way.

“And what is this dangerous task, Terra?” she asks, refusing to believe he’d test the teachings they both held so dear. After all these years. That he’d squander his chances at convincing Eraqus to give him the Mark of Mastery. “It doesn’t sound like what the Master told you to do.”

“It might be a different route, but I’m fighting the Darkness.”

“I’m not so sure. I’ve been to the same worlds as you and I’ve seen what you’ve done. You shouldn’t put yourself so close to the Darkness.”

Ven interjects. “Listen to yourself, Aqua. Terra would never—”

“You mean you’ve been spying on me?” Terra says, his eyes narrowing. To see his beautiful face this hurt—stars, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She should shut up. “Is that what he said to do? The Master’s orders?”

What is she to do? What else does he expect? “He was only…”

Quietly, he says, “I get it,” like the silence in a coffin. 

“Terra—”

“Just stay put! I’m on my own now, all right?”

“Terra, please! Listen! The Master has no reason to distrust you, really! He was just worried.”

Her words fall on deaf ears. Terra is not like this, he’s never like this, turning his back, walking away, leaving her to stand and watch him go. 

“Why?” Ven asks her. “Why would you do this? You’re letting this whole Master thing get to your head.”

Terra has never said that about her, even when pushed. They’ve been pushed and pushed, how is she supposed to mend the tear now? 

“I’ll be right back.”

“He’s really pissed.”

“Stay here.”

“I won’t.” 

Aqua stops. A lot is changing and she can’t keep up. “But Ven—”

Ven purses his lips. “I’ll give you guys some time alone. Then I’m going after him.”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. She is the odd one out, the one that shouldn’t follow Terra, the one that broke some sort of code by choosing to side with the Master. They should be on the same side. 

“Be safe, please?”

Ven nods, but he isn’t happy about it.

Aqua crosses the alleyway, opening an ornate gate that leads into the town square. Radiant Garden is pretty; they arrived just in time for spring, where the dandelions are yellow and the town is painted in herbal colors. But Aqua can’t get herself to enjoy the view. She can’t appreciate the architecture, the castle, the clock tower, the townsfolk selling their wares, the gentle sunset, not when her heart is collapsing into a growing, weighted pit. Nothing else and no one else exists in the seconds she dashes down the streets.

“Terra!” 

He’s heading towards the city gates, where she assumes he’ll summon his glider and fly away. 

Aqua speeds up as fast as she can, feeling she’s still too slow. He’s about to disappear if she can’t break her bones and fly. She grabs him by the shoulder. “Terra, please. I don’t want the conversation to end the way it did.” 

“Aqua,” he grunts, stepping out of her touch and crossing his arms. “Not now, okay?”

He’s about to turn on her. Don’t let this be the last image she sees.

She hugs him by his waist and buries her face into his shoulder. “Please don’t leave.”

He tenses.

“Please?” 

She doesn’t know what to say. Apologize? For doing what’s expected of her? Shouldn’t he know this?

Shouldn’t she understand on some level, after all these years, that sometimes Terra is way more important than her duties? That she should stand up for him when it’s called for?

When Terra finally wraps his arms around her, she squeezes him tighter, hoping the loss of words would translate. How many minutes does she have left before she has to let go?

Terra splayes his hand on her back, as if to prompt her to loosen up. “I need to go.”

“There’s so much we need to talk about.” Why is her heart pounding this hard?

“I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“I feel so awful for what I’ve said.”

Terra doesn’t reply.

Aqua doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she can’t trust in anything, let alone the faith that their bond is unbreakable when she is witnessing how it’s cracking under the pressure. She grabs his face and kisses him, the taste of his mouth unique, warm, sweet, more than she hoped for. 

Terra seizes her when he kisses back. He wants another. And another. He grunts. 

They part for breath, too exposed and in public. Terra takes her aside, into a shadowed alley between a house and the city wall, pushing her against the brick to kiss her harder. She locks his neck in her arms and pulls him in. He’s so enveloped in her lips and he’s so angry, his teeth sliding and nipping barely on her skin like he’s fighting to win, his pelvis on hers, his chest pressing her, squeezing her breath away. She doesn’t want him to let her go. 

He pulls away, his touch slacked. Heavy in breath, lips swollen, eyes watery, he trembles as if he’s done something awful. Aqua has her hand on his chest right over his heart, where it thrums quick and strong. He’s strong, he’s always been. She has to believe that.

“I don’t compare to you,” he croaks. 

Fear churns in Aqua’s stomach, and she reaches for his wrist. “You do. You—” She doesn’t know what to say. “You shouldn’t think that way.”

Terra pulls from her, snapping their connection, leaving it cold where he was warm. It hurts. “I have to do this alone.”

“Terra—”

“Master Aqua,” he says, and her heart drops. “Please, respect my wishes. This is something I need to do if I’m ever going to—” He doesn’t finish. Instead, he turns over his shoulder, the crown of his dark hair glistening in the light of the sun where he disappears past the city gates. He doesn’t come back.

Aqua wraps her arms around herself, caressing the warmth he left behind for as long as possible before it inevitably leaves her too. She wonders if there is meaning in what just happened, wonders what he’s telling himself that would set him down this path. She’s scared of what will happen if she follows him.

She has to follow him. She has to make sure he’s alright. She prays he makes the right decisions, that they won’t have to fight. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

NOW

At night, the library is surrounded by stars. Twelve years in the Realm of Darkness and Aqua has forgotten that the library is all windows, bookshelves suspended in a birdcage on the side of the castle. It’s drizzling, droplets appearing at random, with none of the weight to drip down the glass. The lights are off, a glow polluting in from the hallway.

Terra is here, lying on a gold and white couch, the stand ornate and the cushions embroidered. 

“Welcome to the insomnia party,” he says. 

Aqua sits by his ankles. Terra rests his head on his arms, and lets go of the stars above the storm clouds to watch her. He leans up on one elbow and offers her a smile, but it’s a mimic of one. Who knows the reason why he can’t sleep. She won’t ask.

“Can we,” she starts, bringing her knees to her chin. “Talk?”

“We are.”

On the spot, Aqua blanks. “I don’t know where to start.”

He scoffs and unhooks his elbow, plopping back on the cushion. “Pick a place. We’ll get lost together and have to backtrack anyway.” He sighs, rolling his head towards the floor. “I can’t look at any of these books the same way again.” 

Five stories of them, and not a single explanation for what happened. 

“When it got tough and I needed to rely on my knowledge,” Aqua says, counting words on her essays over the years: 20,000. “I found that none of it could help us.”

“I’ve had questions ever since I started my apprenticeship,” Terra says, staring at the glass ceiling. “Many of them are still unanswered. What was the point?”

“None of it was relevant in the Realm of Darkness.”

Terra rolls over into a fetal position, burrowing his face into his arms. “So what did help?”

“Thinking of you and Ven.” The thought right now makes her smile, a little thing, a blink in the darkness. 

“I thought of you every day,” he says, morosely, shyly, with a speck of hope and a mix of self-awareness. After twelve years, Aqua still knows him so well and she’s grateful he’s (almost) the same Terra she came home to.

The thought of that chokes her. “I didn’t want it to be this way,” she says. “Any of it.”

“None of us did.”

“I meant…” She pauses, watching closely. The outline of his shoulders, the shape of his brow. They’re furrowed. “Our dream was to become Masters together.”

His shoulders tick. “I should have congratulated you.”

“What?”

“When you were titled Master. I didn’t congratulate you. I’m sorry for being self-centered.”

After twelve years, that’s the last thing in her mind. “I was thinking of withdrawing the title.”

Terra shoots up, face to face with her. “Why?”

“Like I said,” Aqua whispers, now that he’s so close. “Our dream was to be Masters together.” 

“No way.”

“You’re quite passionate about this.” Aqua rubs her knee. A nervous habit, something for her body to do. It used to be natural to hold his hand. 

Terra slaps his forehead. “I can’t let you do that. Not after all the work you’ve done.”

“You’ve worked hard, too.”

“And everything you’ve survived.”

“What you did was not survival?”

Terra gapes. “I don’t know, but I need to own my mistakes. I should have accepted my setbacks and my weaknesses…I wasn’t a good friend to you.”

Aqua sighs. “Don’t tell me you don’t deserve it.” 

“I don’t want to think about what I deserve. I only know that you deserve better.”

Deserving and not deserving sound like arbitrary definitions, markers of work ethic and integrity when everyone deserves peace of mind. “Then it sounds like you need to work really hard in the next couple of weeks.”

He blinks at her sudden change of tone. “Doing what?”

“Passing the Mark of Mastery.” She looks at her knee. “If you want me to keep my title, you have to pass.”

“You’re keeping your title regardless.”

“Pass and become Master with me.” 

“Aqua,” he warns. 

“That is the only condition.”

Terra leans his elbow on the backrest, and laughs into his hand. Laughs. It’s a weak and unpracticed song. She forgot what it sounded like. “You drive me crazy,” he says, “but it makes me so happy.”

She swallows. “I’ll contact Yen Sid to schedule the date.”

“Don’t get cheeky. You haven’t won this conversation.”

“Yes, I have.”

When the chuckles shared between them fade out, Terra studies her face, starting at the tip of her forehead, running his eyes down her nose and lips. The quiet is unwelcome.

“Do I look different?” Aqua asks.

“Not really.” He blinks, and it’s too dark to tell if he’s staring into her eyes. “You don’t smile like you used to. It’s like you’ve dimmed the lantern.”

“I can say the same about you,” she says. He’s tired, leaning on the couch like he can’t sit up on his own. He needs effort to speak. When he smiles, they’re delayed, as though he’s lost and needs to be reminded that he lives in reality now. He’s still beautiful. Terra doesn’t ask her to elaborate, but she supposes he understands exactly what she means. She supposes it’s the same for her.

Terra takes her hand and pulls it closer to him. “I do feel better with you around.”

Aqua grips the fabric of her stocking. “The last real conversation we had shouldn’t have been a fight.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Oh.” She holds her breath. “Wait, I shouldn’t be sorry for the fight or…” The kiss? She can’t bring herself to ask.

Terra smiles into his knuckles, and a spark of flame ignites his eyes. That’s what it is. Their hearts are tired. No book in the library can teach them how to bring them back to life. How to give it an ounce of oxygen to fan the warmth. Or how to provide a touch of oil, a passionate something to make it burst and remind them what it’s like to really want to hold a Keyblade. Aqua wonders if Terra’s essay on the subject is somewhere in the Master’s old office. 

“You know what, I’m sorry,” Terra says, stroking his thumb on the back of her hand. “For that stupid fight. For being stupid enough to have issues with you being Master and for leaving. For being incredibly stupid for not staying in Radiant Garden with you and Ven.” He giggles again.

“Why is that funny?”

“I should have stayed and kissed you longer.” He blinks back tears, inhaling sharply in shock of what he just said. “I guess I needed to get that off my chest.”

Aqua snorts and brings a hand to her cheek. “Yeah, you should have stayed and kissed me longer.”

They say nothing else. Terra takes her face into his large hands and brings her to him, lips to lips, warmth on warmth, chest to chest, heart to heart. He breathes into her, pulling her waist in so she could lie next to him, his heartbeat loud and clear, eager and anxious. A fire grows inside her stomach—she’s forgotten she’s ever felt like this before, years ago when they’ve touched and never went further. It’s invigorating, it’s relaxing. Not a blaze born out of excitement but a gentle hearth, something more than a flicker of the flame in a lantern. Alive.

He mumbles into her ear. “By the way, I have every intention of being the better kisser.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just so you know.”

“We’re really going to be doing this with the kissing?”

“Doing what?”

“What we’ve always done.”

“There’s no contest here.”

“But you want to be the best kisser.”

“I will be the best kisser.” He smiles, digging his nose into her hair. “I must be good enough for you to enjoy it. Therefore, naturally, I have to aspire to be really damn good. That’s all.” 

Aqua giggles into his chin, soft and careful and excited when his arm curls around her waist, squeezing her into him. She loves that he laughs with her. She loves his beautiful, cocky face.

They exchange small words in between, a gasp of surprises, whispers about old memories, requests for what she wants, for what he wants. Two wicks to a single candle, held gently between their hands.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

I've been thinking about your Ruthari angst prompts and idk if that's even allowed 😅 but what do you think about a mixture of 3 and 11? 👀

Okay, so I wanted to play with the arranged marriage au for a bit, and these two lines landed like they might be part of negotiations. So here you go:

“What would you do if I didn’t come back?” and “How am I supposed to go on?”  

“What would you do if I didn’t come back?” Runaan paced slowly at Ethari’s side as they circled the fog-shrouded gardens of the Silvergrove Council House for the seventh time, matching the craftsman’s easy amble. The assassin had begun their negotiations with his hands clasped behind his back as they trod the well-worn path just inside the pale filigree wall that ringed the grounds. Now they hung loose at his sides, after over an hour of conversation that gradually found its rhythm. Ethari was surprisingly easy to converse with, so far. Runaan wasn’t certain he really approved of the taller elf’s playful mindset, but his easy forgiveness and acceptance had soothed away a lot of Runaan’s initial worries.

Runaan kept his face carefully forward as they walked, not wishing to indicate any weakness by glancing Ethari’s way too often, but he kept Ethari’s boots in the corner of his eye so he didn’t walk too fast and leave him behind.

I could. I could leave him behind. I’m faster, stronger. But my life has never been mine to direct. It belongs to Xadia. And so does my heart. Runaan took a slow breath as Ethari thoughtfully contemplated his reply, nibbling at his lip. My heart for Xadia. So, my heart for Ethari, as much as I can manage it.

“I suppose,” Ethari began slowly, “I would do whatever the council wished me to do.”

That was the best answer Runaan could have expected. Ethari had a deep sense of duty that overrode his personal feelings, just as Runaan did. Another thread of tension loosened in his shoulders. No one understood duty like an assassin, but the council had selected Ethari from among all the eligible craftsmen in the Silvergrove. He was the best they could find. But Runaan was the one who’d marry him, and he needed to be sure, too. And now, to his relief, he was sure. Ethari was willing to do his duty, no matter what.

Good. He’ll need that as much as I do.

“Would they make me marry the next assassin leader, too, do you suppose?” Ethari continued. He looked further ahead on their circular path, as if he could see such a dark future already looming.

Runaan blinked in surprise. He shifted himself out of the equation--an easy habit of long practice--and considered the idea. “It depends on what sort of match we have, I think.”

“How do you mean?” Ethari’s voice was carefully distant, unwilling to give any indication of interest either way.

Runaan pouted thoughtfully. “Well, if we match well in skill, if your crafting is of high quality and I perform admirably with your weapons, then the council will be inclined to match you with another assassin so you can continue to perform your valuable services.”

“Hmm.”

Runaan glanced over from beneath a single raised brow at Ethari’s noncommittal noise. “You don’t agree?”

“Does the council take feelings into consideration in situations like that?” Ethari asked.

“Feelings?” Runaan scoffed lightly. Feelings never protected anyone from anything. They were more likely to cause chaos than bring order.

Ethari shot him an uncertain glance. “Yes, feelings. What if...?” He looked away abruptly.

“You worry they would match you with a woman?” Runaan guessed.

A tiny smile flickered at the corner of Ethari’s lips and vanished. “That wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Oh. What, then?”

Ethari glanced across the gardens, to where the lacy arches of the Council House faded into the mist. “Can I ask you for a favor, Runaan?”

Runaan’s spine straightened. A personal request from his intended? This was the sort of thing he would be expected to agree to, wasn’t it? They were to be partners, allies, for the protection of Xadia and the Silvergrove. But soft subjects were merely practice for the important things. That was Runaan’s takeaway after Tiadrin sat him down and gave him a thorough talking-to, anyway. “Of course,” he responded. He had no idea what to expect, but he was intensely curious what could prompt Ethari to ask for a personal boon just then. “Anything you like.”

The craftsman’s eyes scanned the foggy garden until he spotted something that met with his approval. He held out a broad-palmed hand toward Runaan. “Will you come with me for a moment?”

Runaan stilled, studying the outstretched hand so easily offered. I suppose I should get used to this elf’s touch sooner rather than later, he reasoned. Slowly, he placed his gloved hand in Ethari’s, resting it there as lightly as a landing bird.

Ethari grinned warmly and gave Runaan’s hand a gentle squeeze. Then he towed him past a couple of short fruit trees that were just budding their spring leaves, until they were entirely hidden from sight, against the outer wall of the gardens. He pulled Runaan to face him and gave him a secretive smile. “Here, this’ll do.”

Runaan glanced around uncertainly. “For what?”

Ethari glanced down, suddenly bashful. “I, I thought we should kiss. To get used to it. They’ll expect it of us in public from time to time.”

Runaan’s brows lowered. “We don’t have to kiss.”

Ethari’s shoulders slumped a little. “Do you mean right now, or... ever...?”

Runaan’s expression tightened as he struggled with these unfamiliar notions Ethari was creating in him. “We are to be wed for the good of the SIlvergrove, Ethari. You are a craftsman of immense skill, and I am to become the leader of the assassins. Our union will stabilize the chaos of the past few years and ensure a brighter future for everyone. Kissing...” Runaan shook his head slowly, baffled. “Kissing doesn’t enter into it.”

“Kissing doesn’t--?” Ethari blurted. “Runaan...”

Perplexed at Ethari’s sudden outburst, the assassin took a moment to look him up and down, seeking some reason for his intense reaction. But he saw only a tall, frustrated craftsman before him, clearly in on some secret Runaan did not possess. It seemed he’d have to ask out loud for it. “What?”

“You fool.” Ethari’s hands were on his cheeks in a heartbeat, pulling him closer. Runaan’s sound of protest was trapped in his mouth as Ethari’s lips found his, hard and urgent, driving him back against the garden wall. Runaan backed into it with enough force to  draw a grunt from his chest.

Ethari chased him there, pressing himself flush against Runaan, pinning him with writhing eagerness. At the sound of Runaan’s grunt, he let out a low, grinding moan to match, sieving his fingers into the assassin’s hair.

Don’t stab him. Do not stab him. He wouldn’t understand. This is for Xadia. The thought flared red in Runaan’s mind, tangled and fragmented by a truly frightening amount of heated sensations that burst out of nowhere and swarmed him like a cloud of moon moths seeking escape, finding none. What is... what is he doing to me... what is this...

A stifled groan slipped through Runaan’s teeth. Instead of shoving Ethari away as he felt would be proper for such an uninvited assault, Runaan found his hands knotting in Ethari’s shirt and tugging him closer still. He wrapped a leg around Ethari’s ass and snugged their bodies together, lost in the grip of unreasoning neediness.

“Nnngh.” Ethari’s moan nibbled its way along Runaan’s jaw and nipped at the delicate skin beneath his ear. Runaan arched against his lips, tilting his chin up, bucking his hips forward with a soft cry.

Ethari steadied himself with a grip on a swirly amid the pattern in the filigree wall. His other hand teased beneath the lower edge of Runaan’s shirt, and his words rang breathlessly in Runaan’s ear.  “Runaan... I’ve always loved you... always... You make me so happy, this is a dream come true...”

“Aah!” Runaan tore himself away and stumbled a couple of steps sideways, panting heavily. His body throbbed in all the best places, his skin was flushed, his pupils blown. But he held out a hand to ward Ethari off. “You tricked the council?” he puffed. “You lied to them?”

Bereft, shocked, Ethari made an abortive reach toward Runaan and then stopped. “What? No!”

“They asked me if I had any attachments.” Runaan’s voice was cold, but why wouldn’t Runaan’s heart settle? It insisted on galloping across the Forest like a wild moonstrider. “I said no, so I was approved for consideration. And it was the truth.”

“I... Runaan, it wasn’t a lie! I’d never told you. There was no attachment to lie about.”

“There was in your heart.”

Baffled, breathless, desperate, Ethari took a step forward with his hands out pleadingly. “How is that a bad thing? I told them nothing of my feelings. I let them decide, for the good of the Silvergrove. And now that it’s decided, I’m telling you the truth! Isn’t that what couples do when they trust each other?”

Runaan’s brows drew down, and he thought searchingly through the wild storm of his feelings, seeking the hard edges of something reliable. Ah. There. He tucked his hands behind his back--the better to keep them off this deceptively charming elf before him--and straightened up into a formal assassin pose. “That’s just it, Ethari. I don’t trust you. We don’t know each other that well. And we’re not a couple. We’re a team--or trying to be--serving Xadia first and foremost. And you just admitted that you’re capable of deceiving the whole village council--and me--to get what you want. You told me you’d marry whoever the council paired you with, if I fell, but that’s not true, is it? You’ve put your needs above those of the many. And that, I cannot abide.”

Genuine fear bled across Ethari’s face as Runaan’s words sank in. “Runaan, please don’t... Are you calling this off?” His bottom lip trembled, and he pressed a shaking fist against his mouth. “Please don’t tell me I’ve ruined everything, please, please...” He closed his eyes and stood there, vulnerable, exposed. “You’re right. You’re right. It probably isn’t true. If I lose you to the humans someday, I won’t want to marry another. I just want to be with you. If...” His sunset eyes searched the mists for answers and flew back to meet Runaan’s stern gaze. “If I lose you--later, or right now--how am I supposed to go on?”

Runaan’s jaw worked as he stared at the pleading craftsman. His touch had been electric, dazzling. Runaan craved it again already. But such neediness would be an imbalance that could cost him in a critical moment--and if he fell, then his entire purpose was at risk. His head scrambled for distance even as his heart thrummed with eager heat. “I cannot trust you, Ethari. That must be the base tenet of this relationship, or we cannot serve Xadia as it requires.”

In true distress, Ethari grabbed his own horns and turned away, pacing erratically, muttering “No, no, no” through his teeth. Then he whirled back to face Runaan. “Please, I promise you, I won’t give you any further cause to doubt me. Let me prove myself. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what you need.”

Runaan stalked closer until they stood nose to nose. “I need you to give your heart to Xadia. Not to me.”

“Done,” Ethari blurted. His gaze clung to Runaan’s face, and he trembled with tension, his fate hanging in the balance.

Runaan’s gaze betrayed him, falling for a single moment from those urgent eyes to his intended’s full lips, before snapping back up. He gritted his teeth, tugged his shirt smooth of Ethari’s recent elfhandling, and added roughly, “And don’t you dare kiss me again. You’re lucky I didn’t stab you.”

Ethari looked down. “I’m sorry. It... won’t happen again.” His voice faded to a whisper like a wounded animal crawling into the shadows to die.

“How am I supposed to go on?” Ethari’s words echoed in Runaan’s mind, and he relented a little. “Wait. This is to be an alliance. I must consider your feelings, however... misguided, if we are to make this work, yes?” Ethari will make a solid ally, at least. I cannot say the same for every craftsman in the Silvergrove. I may never find an easier or stronger connection than this.

Ethari looked up from beneath his downcast brows, curious but not hopeful. “I suppose so,” he allowed uncertainly.

Runaan nodded decisively. “Then I’ll do the kissing, when it’s appropriate. You were right: they will expect it from time to time. Does this meet with your satisfaction?”

Ethari stared at him for a long moment and sighed dully. “I’ll take it.“

Runaan’s brows drew together. He’d expected Ethari to be delighted, grateful, that Runaan had considered his feelings and made allowances. Wasn’t that how these negotiations were supposed to work? Moon help me, I may just be making this worse... is it too late to take it all back and just let him kiss me again? That was... hnnngh...

Runaan opened his mouth to admit he was wrong, but Ethari spoke first.

“My heart for Xadia.” The craftsman offered his hand again, hesitantly.

Runaan studied that open palm again. Holding hands. A decent compromise in itself. He took it softly and nodded.

Together, hand in hand and worlds apart, the betrothed elves made their way through the mists to the Council House. For Xadia.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Eye of the Storm 17

Warnings: nonconsensual sex; paddling.

This is dark!Thor and dark!Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a new servant at the palace of Asgard but the job isn’t so easy as you thought.

Note: This is a lot of smut but I promise y’all, we are close to a conclusion. Don’t give up on reader just yet.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The door was locked. Loki barely said a word as he left you in the king’s chambers. Alone. You would have been thankful for the solitary in any other circumstance, but this was more penance than peace. Not only was the prince angered by your attempt at flight but he now held it over you. If he should reveal it to the king, you would surely face a wrath far worse than Loki’s silent brooding.

Several days passed, a week maybe. In a perverse way, your wish for isolation had come true. Only the maid appeared to bring your meals and to clean up the barely touched remnants. You didn’t do much but stare out the window or at the wall. You couldn’t decide which you dreaded more, Loki’s inevitable appearance or Thor’s foreboding return.

The prince woke you. As the first time he’d appeared thus, you were on the couch, in a troubled and tenuous slumber which he swiftly broke. You sat up slowly as you touched your forehead and your vision cleared slowly. You blinked away your fatigue as Loki paced back and forth behind the couch. You looked over the back at him and he barely seemed to notice you.

You turned your legs over the edge of the sofa and were startled as something slapped harshly against the back. You stopped and looked back. The wooden paddle rested threatening against the upholstered frame. A snake head was carved into its face and it’s long tail wound around the handle, gripped in the prince’s pale hand.

“Obedience.” He said staunchly as he turned the paddle. “That is what you must learn. While your little acts of resistance are entertaining they can be rather exhausting.” He brought the paddle to your cheek then slid it down under your chin and forced your head up. “Trust me, darling, this will save you much trouble. Not only with myself but my brother as well.”

“Your highness. I--” You stammered as he lifted your head higher. “I have thought on my transgression and I am so very sorry. I understand that what I’ve done--”

“You do not understand.” He insisted as he pushed on the paddle and you were forced back until you were on your feet. “You do not understand that the queen left because I allowed it. That she did invite you because I suggested it. That you fell into my trap because I knew you to be underhanded.”

“I was scared but I--”

“You be quiet,” He hissed as he brought the tip of the paddle to your lips. “I did not come to break that precious face.” He let the paddle drop as he stepped around the couch. “Only the last of your cursed obstinacy.”

Your lips trembled. You couldn’t understand why he would aid Calla. Why should he let her go and not you? Well, certainly he had more use in you than a wife not his own.

“Come on.” He slapped the couch cushion with the paddle. “Hands flat.”

You stared at him and he lifted the paddle. He brought it around your back and nudged you towards the sofa. You did as he bid and he leaned the wood against your ass. He spun it and rubbed it against you.

“I did not bring the queen to be an ally to the king. I chose her because I knew she would be an easy foe, especially with my oaf of a brother.” He slithered as he stepped closer and pulled up your skirts. “I don’t expect you to comprehend my methodology but surely you can guess my intent… my brother’s arrogance has always been his greatest flaw. He is a sore loser.” He bared your ass and stepped back. “Ever since we were children. And to lose to me… a greater tarnish upon his pride.”

“Please--” Your voice caught in your throat as the wood cracked across your ass and your legs gave out. You cried out as you crumpled to the floor and reached back to touch your tender flesh.

“Up!” He barked and jabbed you with the paddle. “Count.”

“Ow,” You whined. “I can’t. Please don’t--”

“I will double the mark, dear, so stand and take your punishment with some degree of dignity.” He snarled.

You rose, shakily, drawing yourself up with the couch. You bent over it heavily and braced yourself as your legs continued to quake. You took a breath as the wood met your flesh again before Loki pulled back. The next strike made you yelp, and the next, and the next. With each, you counted, pained grunts which barely left your breathless chest.

When you reached twenty, tears crawled down your cheeks and nose and fell onto the cushion below. You waited for twenty-one but it never came. Instead, Loki pushed on your lower back until you lowered yourself down to the floor, careful to keep on your knees as your ass reverberated with pain.

“I did promise my brother to keep you in line,” Loki said as he placed the paddle against the wall. “He did not clarify in which way I should do so but whatever is most effective, I suppose.” 

He neared and pulled you up by your elbows, your skirts falling over your legs once more. You were barely able to stand on your own strength and you sniffed back your sobs. You’d never felt a pain so intense and it lingered as your flesh was already bruising.

“You do know if you were to tell him of the ways in which I’ve kept you submissive, he will do worse.” He turned and sat on the sofa as his hands slipped your arms. “You must know that I have shown you mercy but you would rather not have him prove it thus.”

You scowled down at him, somehow numb and entirely agonized all at once. He grasped your waist as he drew you between his knees until your legs met the couch.

“So, what have you learned, darling?” He asked.

You stared down at him as his fingers crept up and down your sides. You choked as you searched for your voice.

“To listen. To be obedient.” You quavered.

“To be silent.” He added as he pulled you into his lap. “To do as you must, not as you want.”

He tore your skirt from beneath you as he slid you closer. He kept you on your knees, just above him as he felt around between your bodies. He unlaced his breeches as his other hand brushed your skirts back behind you. He freed himself from his pants and you felt him prodding along your cunt. He gripped your hip and forced you down impatient and sighed as he tossed his head back against the couch.

You sat atop him, your ass burned as you settled in his lap. His hand fell from you and he spread his arms across the back of the sofa.

“Do as you must,” He purred. “You’ve learned much, darling. Surely you needn’t my guidance any longer.”

You inhaled as you began to rock. You grasped his shoulders as the friction of your skirts against your ass caused you to tremble. He stayed as he was, watching you past his long nose, as you sucked in your lip, in agony and reluctant pleasure. Despite the fire in your veins, the singe along your flesh, you felt that familiar tingle. That one which wasn’t really you but that baser, instinctual weakness within.

You kept your pace slow but steady, afraid to further agitate your tortured ass. You hung your head, wishing, praying, for it to end. The listlessness, the loneliness, the purgatory of these chambers, you had taken it for granted. You hadn’t appreciated any of it and this is what came from it.

Your orgasm rolled through you but you only let out another pathetic whimper. You focused on keeping your hips tilting until as a flood of warmth filled you. Until Loki’s voice rose sultry and dusky around you. You stopped and without thinking, fell forward until your head rested beside the prince’s. Your breath came shallow and shaky. 

“Get off me,” He growled as he shoved you.

You sat up and lifted yourself from him, falling back on the cushion beside him with a grumble. It hurt worse than before. Not just the welt from the paddle, but your soul; your very being. He stood and strode away, ignoring your existence as he searched for something to clean himself with.

You remained on the couch, curled up in a heap, barely hearing or seeing him as he moved around the chambers. You only sensed his shadow as he came to loom over you.

“I will not be so patient again.” He bent and grabbed your chin until your lashes fluttered up at him. “Your novelty wears thin, my dear.”

🌩️

Loki did not return for another week. You were thankful he did not bring the paddle but his visit went as any other. The next day, the door was unlocked. You opened it but did not leave. Not for another week after that. More than a month since the king had left. You didn’t long for his return only for the similar absence of the prince.

You felt sick often, your stomach cramped most nights, and you’d begun to bloat. Was it stress? Surely the unending tension that encased your entire existence was wearing on you. That morning was worse than most. You were overtired, your head hurt, and your breakfast made you queasy.

So you decided it was finally time to leave the chambers. You needed some air. You needed to be free of the walls of your prison. You needed to forget, if even for a moment, a second. You could just pretend, just a little, that this all had been a bad dream.

You stepped out into the corridor. The guard stood straight and watched you as you passed him. He followed a few feet behind. Loki’s man? Thor’s? Did it even matter?

You went to the garden, the only place you could think of to go. The only sanctuary in this inferno. You passed by the flower beds around the stone bench and the low hedges near the front of the courtyard. The bushes got higher and higher and trees came to be framed by rose bushes and lines of tulips and lilies. 

You were a fawn, lost in a forest of wolves. You were a fae searching for the magic root that would free you. You weren’t you, you just were. Only the guard, your personal shadow, kept you bound to reality.

You knelt by a patch of golden daffodils and daintily felt a petal. The scent of pollen made you think of when you’d been a child. The bunches of violets you’d gathered and give to your mother as a present. You smiled.

“I wondered where you were.” Your heart caught at the deep tone; quiet but suffocating. You looked over your shoulder as Thor dismissed the guard with a glance. “I admit my greater fears did come to mind.”

You withdrew your hand and stood. Was it truly him? Was this some trick again?

“My king.” You breathed. “You’ve returned?”

“I was longer than I expected,” He said calmly as he neared. His scarlet cape was stirred by the gentle breeze, his expression was a mix of fatigue and frustration. “But I prevailed. Ormheim has been subdued and I return to you, pet, wanting.”

You lowered your chin as he came up before you. He took your hands in his and drew you to him.

“You look… even more delicious than I recall,” He hummed as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Did you miss me as I missed you?”

“Yes,” You lied. “Every day.”

“And night, I’m certain,” He grinned. “How long I’ve waited to see you again. To see this face.” His arm wrapped around you and he hugged you to him. “To feel you.”

You tried to smile but it felt more a wince. You recalled Loki’s warnings, the queen’s escape, and your own guilt. Even if he did not learn of his brother’s mischief, he would not be happy for his wife’s departure.

“I cannot wait,” He snarled as he leaned in, his large hand stretched over your jaw as he raised your head. “I thought to take you back to the chambers but my patience is little.”

He pressed his lips to yours and clung to you. You kissed him back, perhaps hoping to prolong the inevitable. Perhaps hoping to live in your delusion a little longer. He might be the keeper of your cell but you could pretend he was another. Pretend you wanted it so bad as him. You did want it; you wanted to leave it all behind. You wanted to be happy so why not fake it…

He bent closer and his arm slipped down your back. His other hand fell from your chin and he grabbed the back of your thighs. He lifted you as easily as he would a feather and wrapped your legs around him. He groaned into your mouth as his hand blindly searched your skirts, bunching them up in each other as he bared your ass.

You clung to his shoulders as he felt beneath you and tickled your cunt. His lips left yours and he bent his head into the crook of your neck. His mouth brushed along the collar at your throat and his warm breath seeped into you. He guided himself with two fingers to your entrance and he sank into you slowly. He gasped and dragged his lips along the skin that bordered the golden choker.

He impaled you completely and you moaned. You tilted your hips as you pushed your head back and he kept his motion with sharp, short thrusts. You let out pathetic mewls with each rock of his pelvis and you tightened your hold on him.

“You really did miss me, pet,” He rasped in your ear. “Mmm, all mine.” He purred. “The nights must have been long all by yourself.”

“Very,” You breathed as you let him use your body and turned your face up to the hot sun. “Oh, my king.”

“So sweet,” He groaned as he sped up, hooking his arm under your right leg and drawing it up as he hooked his fingers over your shoulder and his other stayed wrapped around your back. “Fuck, it’s been so long.”

You panted as you felt the pressure mounting. As the coil twisted inside of you and urged you on. As it pushed away every ounce of doubt and resent. As you forgot the sickness which had woke you early and the melancholy which had coloured your life. You exclaimed as your orgasm took over and you let yourself surrender to Thor’s body. Accept his gentleness while you could, his cruelty would not be far behind.

He slammed into you harder and harder. His growls grew deeper and louder. He snarled against your cheek and crashed his hips against you. He jolted your body as his motion grew sharper and more deliberate. He rocked through his orgasm as he roared in pleasure, fucking you until his seed was dripping out around him.

His chest rose and felt against you and he stumbled around with you still in his arms, still buried inside of you. He sat on a stone bench beneath a tree with great green prongs. He sighed and ran his hand up and down your back as he embraced you.

“I needed that,” He said. “Were you a good girl when I was gone?”

“Yes, my king,” You uttered as leaned against him. You felt his power, remembered it. Visions of his wrath tinted those memories and you shuddered. 

“Let us stay like this,” He played with your skirts as he spoke. “Just for a time. I’m not so ready to be king again.”

[booksforevermore13]

The monster within me (doesn't exist)

Summary: "Hate you?" Sirius pulled away and held Remus by his shoulders, "You ass, we could never hate you."

There's an unwritten rule in the stones that the Marauders stick together. No matter what. Remus learns that in his second year.

Author's Note: Just my version of how the Marauder's learn about Remus' furry little problem. Read it on Fanfiction if your prefer!

...

Remus had always loved the wind, for it came so boldly, rousing him to a wakefulness, an alertness, that let him savour each and every moment in the Forest despite the nearing torment.

In soft breezes, finer than silk, and smoother than water, it sang past the trees, sending the dried autumn leaves on a dancing funfair ride, hypnotic and beautiful. The warmth that had been in the wind just last week had either evaporated into the sky or leached into the earth, making way for the beguiling autumn breeze.

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself in his mother's garden, listening to the birds chirping away and the slight buzz of the bees come to suck the nectar from his mother's begonias.

But he wasn't there.

Remus grunted as a jolt of pain snapped up his back, numbing his shoulders and sending nervous tingles down his spine. He stopped in his tracks and doubled over as his stomach lurched. His eyes teared up as webs of pain started slithering up his body, flaring up whatever they touched.

He should have gone to the Hospital Wing. The pain had started weeks before it should have and he knew he should have gone and informed Madam Pomfrey as soon as the first aches had started, but he hadn't. He hadn't because James and Sirius had been planning a prank for the last few weeks and Remus couldn't find it in himself to lie to them again, to say he had the flu when it was far from that. He needed a chance at normalcy, a chance at actually feeling human, and in his ridiculously miserable life where things rarely lasted, he needed every chance he could get.

Remus felt his legs give out as he fell on his knees, sure that he had scraped the skin off, but he hardly noticed. A blinding pain had started pulsing in his head, moving across his forehead until it became a constant, growing hum. A shriek left his throat as he collapsed completely, clutching his head, clutching his body as his bones snapped and his ankles turned all the way around, as his spine cracked and he bent backwards.

And then all he knew was pain.

...

White walls and white ceilings.

That's what he woke up to.

How Dickensian.

Remus' eyes ached as he looked around his small confined space, hidden from view by scratchy, white curtains.

Normally, he'd wake up to Madam Pomfrey looking at him, her grey irises tinged with concern and underlying pity. She'd ask how he felt and he'd answer 'fine' even though he felt far from fine, and she'd start fussing over him, giving him a dozen potions one after the other, so that in the end he felt as if he was munching on wet sand and wanted to throw up all over her spotless white curtains.

This time, however, there were no grey irises, no condescending questions and no potions. Nothing even remotely similar to what normally happened.

Remus' throat closed up in dread as he remembered the events of the previous night. He hadn't made it to the Shrieking Shack. He'd… he'd collapsed and… and he had screamed in pain but that was all he remembered.

This… this shouldn't have happened. Had he hurt anyone? Had he hurt…would Dumbledore expel him, now that he'd messed up?

He'd messed up. Merlin, he'd messed up so bad. He should have gone to Madam Pomfrey as soon as the pain had set in. A person like him didn't deserve normalcy, and now due to his own careless whims, someone could have been hurt. What if he had bitten someone?

Remus' breath grew haggard as the thought crossed his mind. He wouldn't be able to bear it if he was the reason someone else got turned. If someone else had to bear what he had to bear every single month. He couldn't have, could he?

Merlin, he felt like a monster. He was a monster.

Remus heard the curtains open and his head snapped to the right, expecting Madam Pomfrey to come hurrying in, her voice drowning out his thoughts as she fussed over him.

Instead, he met with crescent-shaped glasses, blue eyes behind them, but they didn't have the twinkle he associated them with. There was a grave expression on Dumbledore's face and Remus knew almost immediately that he'd ruined everything.

"Did I do something… did I hurt..." Remus managed to croak out, his throat constricted with tears.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus breathed in shakily and nodded as Dumbledore took a seat at the edge of his bed. He couldn't trust himself to talk, or else he knew he'd fall apart for ruining whatever he had left.

"No one was hurt, in answer to your question," Dumbledore said, and Remus let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

"—but I believe this time, it was different. More excruciating, I suspect."

Remus nodded, "I'm sorry I didn't come here earlier, this… this could have been—"

"Mr. Lupin, you were found on the edge of the Forbidden Forest by the centaurs. You were bleeding profusely, and had we not got you here the moment we did, you would not have survived."

Remus gulped, his hands shaking. "Are you going to expel me, Professor?" he asked, feeling sicker by the minute.

Dumbledore looked at him through his glasses, as if he was deciding Remus' fate that very second. "Had a student found you there, then things would have been very different. Calamatic, even. The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, Mr. Lupin, and yet if you hadn't decided to take that certain path, then I believe there would have been casualties."

"There is no easy way to tell you this, Mr. Lupin, but the events that occurred last night could have gone very badly indeed. Kindly don't hesitate to refer to Madam Pomfrey if and when a situation arises not unlike this one."

When, he said when. Would this happen again?

Remus watched as Dumbledore got up from the bed, still peering at Remus through his thin glasses. He turned around to go, moving the curtains aside slightly, before facing Remus again.

"And no, Mr. Lupin, I will not be expelling you. Not today or anytime soon. We all make mistakes, Mr. Lupin, but this cannot be categorized as one."

Remus could have almost cried in relief, his chest lightening as Dumbledore stepped out of his corner, his robes trailing on the white ground.

Everything seemed to be white around here, much to Remus' distaste.

"I believe you have visitors," he heard Dumbledore's voice across the room, and he frowned, hardly registering what he had said before the curtains were yanked aside and he was met with a set of concerned grey eyes.

"Sirius," he breathed out, his eyes watering as the black-haired boy threw himself against him, hugging him gingerly as though he knew he was hurt.

He didn't, did he? There was no way he could.

"I was so worried," he heard Sirius say. "We met Dumbledore in the corridors and he was going to the Hospital Wing, and you were the only one there so we thought something was wrong and you had become sicker and he was coming—"

"Sirius, I'm fine," Remus said and Sirius let him go, pulling away as he took a seat beside him on the bed. James and Peter stood behind him, identical frowns of concern and question on their faces.

"Are you really?" they asked at the same time, and Remus laughed.

"I am now," he said and he meant it.

...

"Lily's reading the same book," James declared as he took a seat beside Remus.

"What?" Remus craned his head over to where James was sitting, the growing ache in his limbs dull and constant.

"Pride and Prejudice," James frowned, "She's always reading it."

Remus shared a look with Sirius, smiling as they looked at a very pondering James.

"It's her relief book," Remus said knowingly. He'd noticed it too, albeit upon James pointing it out to him, but he'd noticed it and once he noticed something, it became awfully hard for him to unnotice it.

"What's a relief book?"

"Everyone has one," Remus said, before correcting himself. "At least, all readers have one. It's something you turn to when you're stressed or sad or simply want to bash someone's head in a wall."

They were silent for a while and Remus turned to his book, his eyes scanning over the pages, yet nothing registering in his head as he waited for their response.

"What's yours?" Sirius finally asked and Remus frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"What's your relief book?"

Remus thought about it it, the question slightly blowing him off course before he raised the book he was reading.

"War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells," Sirius read off the cover. "What's it about?"

"Aliens." Sirius made a face and Remus hurried to explain himself. "It's about people from outside the planet and people from here, and uhh… it's about destruction and uhh… collateral damage.

Collateral damage. Maybe that's why he liked the book so much. There was a hell lot of collateral damage in it. He was collateral damage. His entire life was collateral damage from a bloody freak accident.

"—are you stressed then?" he heard Sirius ask and closed the book shut.

"No," Remus swallowed. "I just really want to bash someone's head in a wall right now."

"Yeah?" Sirius smirked. "Who?"

"No one you know," Remus replied.

"Is it James?"

"No."

"Is it Peter?"

"No."

"Is it me?"

"Oh, hell no."

"Then is it you?"

Yeah, Remus wanted to say. But he settled on, "No."

…

He didn't see them for hours at a time. He'd come out of Charms by himself, no Sirius joking about Flitwick's moustache, he'd go to lunch alone and there wouldn't be a Sirius urging him to eat an extra piece of chicken or offering him his share of treacle tart.

Remus half thought he'd done something wrong even though Sirius had told him he'd done nothing of the sort.

But he'd been distant lately, turning Remus down for a game of Exploding Snap, avoiding the Common Room when Remus was sitting there, doing his homework, not tagging along as Remus went to the Library.

He'd done something wrong, he knew. He always did something wrong. Messed up everything good that came his way.

He stepped out of the Common Room, sorely missing the company of the other three as he made his way to the Library.

He'd found himself spending less and less time there, for without the company of Sirius who was solely there to get ticked off by Madam Pince, the Library felt too quiet.

And yet, Remus found himself making his way there, his footsteps quick and silent, his shadow appearing to slink across the growingly dark walls.

He pushed open the wooden door, squinting as the golden-yellow rays of the sun fell directly over his eyes, and made his way to his designated corner of the library.

Remus had expected to be the only one there. He almost always was. He'd certainly not expected to come across three overly-familiar figures, two of them poring over a book while the third tried to look over their shoulders.

"Sirius?" Remus heard himself wondering out loud. "Peter? James?"

Their heads snapped over to him, Sirius jerking in surprise as the book fell out of his hand and landed near Remus' feet.

"What-what are you doing here?" Sirius asked, albeit a bit loud as Madam Pince shushed him from her desk.

"I could ask you the same thing," Remus said, hurt brimming in his chest as he bent over to pick up the book. His back ached as he did, and rightly so, because the full moon was approaching and Remus nearly recoiled as his eyes landed on the drawing of a werewolf and then of a man transforming into one.

Panic creeped up his throat as he looked at the three of them, his eyes directly on Sirius' as his mouth moved, but no words came out. "Wha-what's this?" he managed, the book thumping as it fell on the desk.

"Why are you reading about werewolves? It's not in our course yet. W-why then?" Remus asked, his words frantic as he looked at James, Peter and Sirius one by one. They each had a guilty expression on their faces, and deep down, Remus knew they had figured it out.

"It's not… Remus, we… we were just… just," Sirius stuttered. He never stuttered.

Remus breathed in heavily. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry, I didn't, I'm not… I am."

And then he ran out of the library, Sirius's shouts for him to stop unheard by him.

…

"We must remember what ruthless and utter destruction—" Remus's voice cracked and a tear slipped out of his eye, sliding down his cheek and falling on the ground, "our own species has wrought, not only upon animals—" and then he stopped and wiped his tears, but didn't make a move to get up from the ground.

He didn't know why it affected him so much, them knowing. Maybe it was because he didn't want them to know he was a monster, a killer, maybe it was because he didn't want them to be disgusted by him, even though he was disgusted by himself. Or maybe it was simply because after all these years, he couldn't stomach his own identity.

Remus closed his eyes, his eyelids spilling out the tears gathered at the corners.

The daylight had dwindled to a barely perceptible lighting of gloom, and Remus couldn't find it in him to get himself up. His shirt was soaked, the moisture from the moss seeping into his skin, sending slight shivers down his back. Dusk had set and he knew he had to go back but he didn't want to.

He wouldn't be able to bear it when he went back to the castle. Their stares, their terrified stares that showed they were revolted by him. Sirius looking at him as if he was a…a…

Dumbledore would surely throw him out now. He'd already messed up once. Now that they knew, he'd have no choice but leave.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he sobbed, his silent cries seeming to echo among the oak. He hardly heard his name being screamed out, or the footsteps nearing him until his eyes snapped open and he saw a frantic Sirius crouching beside him.

"Everyone's looking for you!" Sirius screamed before lunging towards Remus' lying form, pulling him up in a hug.

Remus flinched, his body tense before he relaxed into Sirius' body.

"Everyone?" he asked, his voice scratchy from all the crying. Everyone? Did everyone know?

Sirius sighed. "Just James and Peter," he said. "We've been looking for you everywhere! Have I ever told you you're an ass?"

And then Remus burst out crying, his sobs loud and torturous, tears rolling down his face and onto Sirius' shoulder. "You hate me now," he cried. "I ruined everything, I can't, I didn't mean to—"

"Hate you?" Sirius pulled away and held Remus by his shoulders. "You ass, we could never hate you."

Remus sniffled as tears fell on the cold, wet ground before he felt nimble fingers lifting his chin up to meet stormy grey eyes he would have recognized anywhere in the goddamn world.

"Remus," Sirius urged. "Remus, we don't care if you're a werewolf, we really don't. For all we know, you have a furry little problem you've to take care of once a month and that's that. Nothing more—"

"I'm a werewolf. You should stay away from me. I could hurt you, I could… I could kill you. You have no idea—"

"Remus, I've seen you in your bloody Mickey Mouse underwear. You couldn't hurt a cockroach if you tried," Sirius said.

"But—"

"If you say we should stay away from you one more time, I'm going to stab you with a rusty knife," Sirius said fiercely. "You are a Marauder. There's an unwritten rule in the stones that Marauders stick together. No matter what."

Sirius hauled himself up, before offering a hand to Remus, who looked at it for a few seconds before gingerly taking it.

"And going off to the Forbidden Forest? That sounds like something I would do, which means you shouldn't," Sirius said, before sighing heavily. "Your back is wet, did you know?"

Remus nodded, shrugging to get his wet shirt loose when he felt Sirius drape his sweater over his back.

"You need it more than I do," he said as Remus gave him a questioning look.

Remus gave a watery chuckle before they lapsed into a comfortable silence, navigating through the woods by the dimming light of the sun.

"We have a plan," Sirius said a few minutes later. "A plan to help you when you transform."

"It won't work—"

"Shh," Sirius glared playfully. "Why do you think we've been in the library all week? The library. Me in the library. People should pay to see me there."

"Sirius," Remus said exasperatedly.

"Shh," Sirius glared. "Don't be such a sour wolf."

"A what?"

"A sour wolf," Sirius repeated with the most serious expression Remus had seen on him yet. "And fair warning, if James decides to kill you for being an ass, don't blame me. I'm innocent."

Remus laughed, a real laugh this time.

"That's not fair at all," he said softly as the school grounds came into view.

Maybe he couldn't bear being a werewolf, maybe he was a monster and maybe he wasn't, but he had Sirius by his side, and James, and Peter, and as crazy they were, hell, he was crazy too but he was glad he had them. They were part of his life, and a colossal part too, but they were there and he was happy.

[thiswasinevitableid]

64. I didn’t know my ex moved so you find me curled up on the floor in front of your apartment door

Ot4, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Duck didn’t mean to fall asleep in front of her cave. But there was no one home and the rock in front of it is just the right temperature to coax him down into a nap in the spring sunshine.

“Um, can I help you?”

His nose tells him the voice belongs to another dragonborn before he opens his eyes. It’s just not the one he’s hoping for. Instead of blue scales and muscle, he finds blue eyes staring down at him while black and white scales glint in the afternoon light.

“Uh, I, uh, do you know the dragon who lives here?” He didn’t think she’d move on that fast.

“I am the dragon who lives here.” The other male adjusts the satchels on his shoulders, one laden with food and the other with books, “I moved in a week ago.”

“Well...fuck.” Duck slides off the rock with a groan, “sorry, didn’t know the place changed hands. Didn’t mean to, uh, crash on your front porch.”

“It’s okay. I was hoping to meet more of our kind here.” He writes a glyph on the door and it opens, “do you want to come in? I got some nice wine from town and, um” he scratches at the stone, “no one to share it with.”

“Sure.” Duck follows him through the familiar front hall and into the kitchen. The furniture is different, all clean lines and polished wood, and there’s new art on the walls. He reads the spines on the stack of history books on the table while his host pours them each a glass of wine.

“Thanks” he takes the goblet, “I’m uh, I’m Duck by the way. It’s a nickname.”

“Joseph.” The other dragon sits across from him, “I take your...ex lived here?”

“Yeah” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “we end things a month ago but, uh, I was missin her and I, uh, I, I, fuck, nevermind.”

Joseph sniffs the air, “surprise heat?”

Duck nods, “I was kinda hopin for, uh, for a pity fuck or somethin. Fuck, that sounds pathetic.” He rests his head in his hands.

“There’s no shame in wanting intimacy.”

“Guess not. Uh, enough about me, how’d you end up here?” He prays Joseph takes the hint.

“I travel around studying humans, trying to bring a greater understanding of them to our kind. My hope is it’ll help keep the peace, since we’re less likely to fear or attack things we understand. Kepler might be the place I settle; the town is a great mixture of dragon and human cultures.”

“So you just...study everythin they do?”

“Right now I’m focusing on technology. Hence the, um, the scars.”

“Oh shit” the white zigzags and bursts that Duck assumed were simply markings are, in fact, scars, “what happened?”

“Mostly minor accidents, like you’d get cooking or gardening. This one” he gestures to the white on his cheek, “is embarrassing; I was so engrossed in my research I didn’t notice the experiment I was running was about to go haywire.”

“Ouch.” He hazards a joke, “hate to see what your hoard is like, probably, uh, shock me.”

Joseph smiles, “I don’t really have one, it’s a pain to move it every time.”

“Not even a little pile?” Duck raises a brow; there’s a magpie-ish quality to the other dragon that suggests there’s a collection hiding somewhere.

A faint dusting of gold on his cheeks, “I do have a, um, a small stack of books.”

“Can I see?”

“Of course. This way.” He leads them to the master bedroom. A wave of unwelcome nostalgia hits Duck as he enters, and he’s about to excuse himself back to the kitchen when a giggle climbs up his throat.

“A small stack, huh?”

Joseph settles on the cushions at the center of three towering bookcases, each crammed full, “I don’t have that many. I once met a wyvern who had whole hills of books. I like them like this so I can actually find things.”

“Hate to say it Joe, but this is an honest to gods hoard.” Duck kneels near him.

“Joe....huh, I like it when you call me that. Normally I hate it. And it’s a library, not a hoard.”

“If you say so. Uh huh, what’s this?” He crawls to where a pile of puzzles toys and games is hidden between the bookcases, “seems like the makings of another ho--oh hell yeah” he grabs a box, “Minotaurs Riddle, I fuckin love this game. Haven’t played it in years, lent mine to a trio of centaurs and never got it back.”

“Do you want to play a few rounds? I, um, I don’t have anything urgent tonight but if you have things to do-”

“Nah, got all my shit taken care of early in case...uh, well, you know.” Humiliation at his earlier desperation rears its head.

Joseph drags a low table over, “Then it sounds like we could both use a night off.”

Three hours and two bottles of wine later, they locked in a stalemate, Duck scanning his cards for a way to break it. He’s never had this intense an opponent before and it’s so fucking fun.

“I play the hero's spear BUT” he flips a card facedown, “on my own chariot, which opens up the way for my chimera to attack.”

Joe’s eyes flick between his hand and the board, pupils no more than slits as he concentrates. Then he sets his cards all facedown, “I don’t have a counter-move, so you win.” His grin is fairytale perfect, “that was great! And now I know your method of play so I can beat you next time.”

“You wish.” Duck doesn’t mean to growl as deeply as he does.

“It’s not a wish, it’s a promise.” Joe boxes up the game without ever taking his eyes off Duck.

“If you say so. But if you break it” he curls his tail around to stroke black scales, “think I oughta get a prize.”

Joe’s responding click-growl is unfamiliar, could be anything from agreement to “leave me the fuck alone.” He starts to retract his tail only for Joe to close his claws around it.

“I think you should get one for your win tonight, too. You did come here in a, um, a certain state.”

“Ain’t you the polite one.” Duck shoves the table aside and prowls across the pillows, “offerin that stylish tail up for meWHOAH, fuck.” He laughs as Joe, lightning quick, lunges forward and traps him on his back.

“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since you got here. Gods” he undoes the wrap at Duck’s waist with a hungry growl, “do you have any idea how hard it is to think strategically with all of this” he runs his palms up Duck’s chest, “on display. Once I’m done give your body the attention it deserves, then I’ll put my ass in the air for you.”

“You drive a hard bargain Joe, but I’ll take it.” He grins as the other dragon gropes his thighs.

“Good. Besides, this is a proven way of getting over heartbreak.”

“Think that theory might need a little more testin. So get down here and kiss me.”

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

“Interesting.” Joe taps the bottle with a claw as he studies the ship inside it, “you really don’t know how they do it?”

“No fuckin clue. I can build model ships outside bottles, but this? This is wild to me.”

“I wonder if we-” Joe raises his head, inhales, and breaks into a dazzling smile, “dinner’s here! You can come in Barclay, we’re in the sunroom.”

Footsteps on stone announce the cook, who Duck usually sees at Amnesty Lodge down in Kepler.

“Didn’t know y’all did delivery.”

Barclay sets a bag crammed with tins and bottles onto the table, “We don’t usually, but Joseph’s a special case.”

Duck spots the blush on his friend’s cheek, “Oh yeah?”

“He, uh, he lets me test new recipes on him?” Two pink patches bloom under Barclays' beard, “there’s a berry custard tart in there today.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Joe’s tail is subtly twitching, “do you want to stay a bit and eat?”

“I’d love to, but I gotta get back before the dinner rush.”

“Right, right, of course, oh, right, your tip” the dragon darts into his study, returns a moment later with a small purse of coins, “here you go, thank you so much it, I’ll be ready for our cooking lesson on Tuesday and, um, it’s always nice to see you.”

Barclay pockets the money, smiles softly, “you too, Joseph. Bye Duck, see you in town.”

Joe watches him go long after he’s out of sight. When he turns around with a sigh, Duck smirks.

“You got it bad, Joe.”

“I know.” He slumps down in a chair, “I think he feels the same way but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Coming out to a dragon’s lair and getting hit on, all while you’re at work? It would stress me out if I was human.”

“You pay him for those cooking lessons?”

“No. I, um, I guess I could ask him then but dragon/human relations are understudied outside of things like midnight weddings. I’m not even sure how something like sex would work, if it would work at all. The books I have on it are out of date and, honestly, most likely written by dragonborns who never had firsthand experience.”

Duck stands, circles the table to drape his arms over Joe’s shoulders and nose his neck, “You could still just ask. Learn what he likes instead of fussin over research.”

“You’re right. I’ll ask. Eventually. Maybe.”

He chuckles and nips a sensitive patch of scales, “It’s a start.”

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

Duck’s busy in the back garden when the chanting starts. It sounds enough like an angry mob that he draws the thicket of brambles across the door to be safe before heading for the second floor and the window to the front yard.

The crowd isn’t from Kepler, people there know he isn’t much for offerings or other forms of intervention into human affairs. He inherited his position from a true dragon who was once considered a forest and weather god. It took years for humans who came to understand that while he could help them identify what was killing their orchards or blighting their fields, he couldn’t summon rain or quash frosts.

Not only do the humans out front seem unaware of those facts, they’re constructing a convoluted, cobbled-together, ceremony. There are offerings of food, but the chants have something to do with slaking his deep hunger. Which is weird, because when you offer food to a dragon it’s meant as a gesture of kinship, not fear. The music doesn’t match either of those dynamics, the robes on the elders are white, which indicates surrender in war, and the incense they’re lighting is too heady; if he eats with it in the air, all he’ll taste is myrrh.

Wait, those are the bundles of incense humans used to burn during weddings. No one’s held a midnight wedding in decades. And holding one when it’s not yet sunset is really baffling. He’s about to write it off as yet more cultural miscommunication when two men drag a bound figure, all dressed in black, out from the crowd and drop it near the door.

“Fuck.” He tromps down the stairs, peers through the thicket for a closer look. The figure is a young man, dirtied silver hair tangled across his face and shattered red spectacles on his nose. His ankles and wrists are tied, and when he tries to scoot back from the cave entrance the crowd jeers. The man looks sluggishly between the crowd and the cave. Resigned, he crawls Duck’s way.

The dragon sets a hand on the thicket to will it away and tell everyone to get lost when he scents blood beneath the incense. Members of the crowd are getting agitated, suggesting they light a pyre to hurry the process along. That’s not even remotely how a midnight wedding works, and were Duck a certain other dragon he might tell them that. Instead, he makes a gap at the bottom of the thicket, grabs an enchanted rope from his work closet, and whips it through the opening. Two seconds later he has a cheering crowd outside his house and a petrified sacrifice inside it.

He kneels, undoing his rope and the bonds. The humans brown eyes lock onto his claws.

“Please. Please just make it quick.” His voice is raw, his pleas continuous, but he doesn’t pull back when Duck cups his chin and touches his forehead.

“Fuck, you’re burnin up. Your eyes a pretty glassy too, wonder if-”

“Drugged. To keep me from running or fighting. Not like they needed to. They, they did enough before that.” He hiccups and Duck smells exactly what plants they put into the mixture. They’re meant to make the human body more pliant. More receptive.

Fuckers.

“Okay” Duck keeps his voice soft, “here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna take you somewhere you can lie down and look you over. Once you’re patched up, you can rest.”

He nods as Duck scoops him into his arms, “Need my strength.”

“Yeah, but not for, uh, for what you think.” He nudges the light with his elbow, illuminating the rumpled green of his bed. When he sets the human down on it, he tucks his arms across his chest.

“Can you get your shirt off for me?”

The man reaches one skinny arm under his back, whaps it about, then shakes his head. Duck eases him upright, let’s him slump forward onto his shoulder why he undoes the eyehooks and buttons. The sight that awaits him is grim.

“Fuck, what’d they have against you?” He counts gashes from four different instruments intermingled with bruises in every color.

“Outsider. Came looking for work. Angered the wrong person.”

“They get you on your legs too?”

A weaks nod.

“I’m gonna have to slice the pants off; got a bad feelin I might re-open wounds if I try to pull ‘em free.” He runs a clawtip up the outside of one leg; the human grips him, afraid, though when he runs a thumb soothingly up a newly-bare spot, he sighs happily. Duck’s instinct is right; there are half-healed wounds now oozing blood thanks to the man being tossed about. He instructs the human to lay on his belly, fetches his bandages and disinfectant from the bathroom, and starts water for the tea that will clear the potion from his system.

When he starts on the wounds on his back the human whimpers, weakly clutching the blanket.

“Shhh, it’s okay sweet thing. Know it hurts, but you’ll feel better soon.” He runs the claws of his free hand through silver hair, undoing tangles as he goes. He is sweet; long legs and wiry arms, a face that’s odd but impossible to look away from. Duck wishes he were a worse dragon than he is; he could slip his threadbare underwear down and relieve the effects of the potion another way. Instead he patches and cleans, tips tea between parched lips, and finds one of his smaller robes to protect the skinny frame from falls oncoming chill. When he’s done, the young man is asleep. So he draws the blankets up and goes to sleep in the garden.

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

His body feels like it’s been through a wine press. No doubt a result of the dragon “marrying him.”

No, wait. He’d taken him to bed, run his claws tenderly through his hair, but then he’d tended his injuries and let him sleep unmolested. Indrid rubs his forehead, wishing his foresight hadn’t been so weakened by his weeks in jail; it would be nice to know if this is a sign the dragon is harmless or if he just prefers his food uninfected.

The bedroom door slides open and a scaly figure walks in, nose firmly in a book. It’s not the same dragon as yesterday; this one is sleek, with midnight scales and long, narrow horns. The one who tended him was bulkier, with scales like a forest viewed from above, dozens of greens and golds melding together. His horns were shorter, Indrid remembers because in his fevered state he wanted to rub them. They looked soothing to touch.

“Oh, good morning.” The dragon closes his book, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just came in for some scale oil and I’ll be out of your hair.” He grabs a purple bottle from a shelf.

“Wait, please.” Indrid struggles to sit up, “can, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“We were sort of hoping you could enlighten us. From Duck’s description, your delivery was so garbled he couldn’t figure out what they wanted. Or, um, it was clear what they wanted done to you, but not why it should be or why they chose him.”

Indrid’s about to answer when a second voice drawls, “Joe, you better not be pesterin our guest with questions.”

The black dragon looks over his shoulder into the hall with a sly grin, “He asked me first.”

“Uh huh, a likely story.” The green dragon, Duck, steps into the room, pausing to kiss Joseph’s cheek. Oh gods, Indrid understands now; he wasn’t fucked or eaten yesterday because Duck was waiting to share him.

“Since you’re up we can--whoa, whoa what’s wrong?” Duck kneels by the bed as Indrid tries to scramble backwards.

Joseph sets his book and bottle down, “You still think you’re dinner, don’t you?”

“Wh-why shouldn’t I?” Indrid pulls the blanket up to shield himself.

“For starters, we don’t eat humans. And we sure as hells don’t fuck ‘em without them bein’ real eager. Even then, some of us stall.” Duck gives Joe a pointed look, “beyond that, someone dropped you here after torturin you. You need lookin after more than anything.”

“We should get these fixed too” Joseph picks up his shattered glasses, “I might have what we need in my workshop, or we could go into Kepler-”

“We’re near Kepler? Thank the gods.” Indrid slumps against the wall, “It was the last place I stopped before things went south. I should have just stayed there. Instead I got it into my head to keep travelling, find an enchanter to train under and got...well, you saw.”

Duck carefully sits on the bed, as far from Indrid as possible, “Yeah, I did. I promise, nothin like that’s ever gonna happen to you again.”

“And if you’re interested in learning magic, most dragons have some. I’d be happy to share what I know if you’re willing to assist in my research.”

“That means makin sure he don’t fall asleep too close to his experiments.”

Indrid has no idea what those experiments might be, but he decides he’s very willing to find out.

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

Voices echo from the back garden, so Barclay curves left instead of going to the front of Duck’s home. Joseph asked him to bring his next few meals here since he’s helping Duck with an “unexpected house guest.”

He’s anticipating another dragon, almost drops his cargo when he sees how wrong he is.

“Indrid?”

“Barclay! I, when Joseph mentioned we were getting dinner from town I hoped it was the Lodge but seeing you is better still.” The other man is in a thick sweater and is wearing one of Duck’s wraps as a makeshift skirt, “I’d get up to hug you but I’m a bit weak at the moment.”

“I got you.” He sets the bags down and leans in for an embrace.

“I’m glad you fellas know each other.”

Barclay remembers burying his fingers in fine, silver hair while Indrid kissed him and worked his clever fingers inside him, promising he’d make him feel wonderful. He did. Every time.

“Yeah.” He blushes, spots Joseph registering this information and--knowing him--storing it away for later.

He was already making frequent trips to see the dragons, but as weeks give way to months he finds that whenever he’s not working, his feet ache to wander up into the hills.

Tonight, he and Joseph made dinner for the four of them (Indrid’s taken up residence in Duck’s home, and the dragon seems deeply uninterested in making him move). The dragons are on dish duty, so he and Indrid wander back to the library where Joseph has lit a fire.

“You really ought to tell him how you feel.”

“Is it that obvious?” Barclay fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist.

“Very. Then again, I know what desire looks like on you.” Indrid bumps their shoulders together playfully.

“But he’s, uh, he’s got Duck. He wouldn’t want a human, no matter how much we like each other.”

Indrid wordlessly moves to the bookshelves, smile widening as he finds a tome bound in blue leather and brings it back to the rug, “I found this when I was fetching books for him the other day.”

“Holy fuck” Barclay stares at the drawings, faded and labeled with draconic runes but undeniably that of a dragonborn fucking the living hells out of a very happy knight.

“I believe it tells the story of a knight who agrees to take a fair maiden's place as an offering and ends up enjoying his new station in life. It’s clearly been read often, though the anatomy is off in places.” He indicates a drawing in which it’s obvious the human doesn’t have balls to go with his enormous cock.

Barclay wants to say something witty, but all he can think about is gripping Joseph’s horns while he twines his tongue around Barclay’s cock.

“Yes, it’s giving me ideas too.” In the firelight, Indrid’s uncovered, brown eyes are almost red.

“Yeah?” Barclay sets a hand on his knee, “I’m no dragon but, uh-”

Indrid leans in, kissing him gently, “While dragons have their appeal, you are what I want right now.”

Barclay lets himself be pulled to the ground and is suddenly very glad dinner required so many dishes.

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

“I didn’t realize you’d be taking notes while you did this.” Indrid smiles, amused, as Joseph scribbles something at the top of a fresh page. They’re heading down the hall in Duck’s home, Indrid having agreed to be the subject of a very exciting day of research.

“I’m not. Not, not that I’m uninterested but, um, since I need to be able to observe everything, Duck will be the one actually fucking you.”

Indrid stops dead, heart fluttering in his chest, “He...is he just doing this as a favor to you?”

Joseph smiles, shakes his head, and Indrid understands that he was reading all the times Duck looked him over with those green eyes correctly.

They reach the bedroom and step across the threshold wearing twin expressions of confusion; Duck forgoes nesting in favor of a bed, but the mattress, a dozen blankets, and every pillow in the house are now on the floor, the dragon busily arranging and rearranging them. Then he sniffs the air and turns, pinning Indrid to the spot with a toothy grin.

“Why the nest?” Joseph drags a chair across the floor and positions it between the pillows and the fireplace.

“Dunno, ever since you told me that today was the day, I’ve had the itch to build one. Gotta make sure you’re comfortable, sweet thing.” Duck holds out his hand and Indrid reaches for it.

“Not yet. Indrid, please undress so I can make some notes.”

“You’re killin me here Joe.” Duck growls as Indrid moves towards the chair, peeling off layers until he’s naked. Joseph scribbles some notes. Indrid would feel like a scientific specimen were it not for the way the pupils in those blue eyes dilate each time he looks at him.

“I just need some measurements.” He pulls a ruler from the pocket of the notebook and kneels down, gingerly taking Indrid’s cock in his palm.

“I, I should mention that is generally frowned upon when it’s just humans.” Indrid squirms as hot breath skates up the sensitive skin.

“Humans are touchy about size.” Duck adds, settling his claws on Indrid’s hips from behind. He’s good foot and a half taller than the human, which always makes Indrid feels safe in his embrace; those have been more frequent these last few weeks, Indrid using the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with the living furnace whose home he shares.

“Hmmm, if they have less genital variation than dragons, I could see how size would become the point of competition.”

“Variation?”

“Dragons got all kinds of set-ups” Duck grinds against Indrid’s ass, “Joe and I happen to have the same kind, where we can lay in someone and get, uh, laid in if we want.”

“Laying?” Indrid squeaks, “I, I’m not opposed but I’m not prepared either.”

“Nah, won’t do none of that today.” Duck blows hot breath down the back of his neck, “if you want, we can try some other time. Can even let Joe take notes. And if he’s good” Duck rests his chin atop Indrid’s head and looks down, “I’ll even save some for him.”

Joseph’s head snaps up, eyes wide, and for an instant Indrid expects to be sandwiched between two dragons, which sounds deliciously warm. Then Joseph collects himself, “Yes. I’d, um, I’d like that. But for now, I need one more measurement” his tongue flicks the air near the head of Indrid’s cock, “may I?”

“Please. Ohhhhhhhyes” He moans as Joseph licks his shaft, “that’s lovely, so veryOHgods” he bucks his hips as Duck digs his claws into the meat of his thighs.

“That’s very helpful, Duck, he’s getting wonderfully hard.”

“I aim to please. Now hurry up before I start fuckin him here and fuck up your data.”

“Just a second..there, done. Duck, please kneel, Indrid do the same but keep facing me.”

“Yessir.” Duck pulls them both to the floor. Claws spread his ass open and the tip of one pokes the base of the plug he put in earlier, “heh, you let Joe help you with this?”

“N-no” Indrid cranes his neck back for a kiss.

“I didn’t want to overstep.” Joseph replies matter-of-factly.

Indrid runs his mouth along Duck’s jaw, “next time I’ll make him warm me up with his tongue before putting it in.”

A moan from the chair as Duck rumbles, “good thinkin, he’s fuckin incredible with his tongue. But you better let me watch.”

“Of course.”

Fabric shifts behind him and then Duck’s wrap falls to the floor. The plug joins it and then a solid, ridged cock is teasing his cheeks.

“You ready, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” Indrid pushes his ass back, whines when only the first half-inch is pushed in.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the whole thing. Just gotta go slow, don’t wanna hurt my mate.” Duck pauses, “huh, sorry, that just came out.”

“I don’t mind.” Indrid sets his hands on top of the dragon’s.

“Fascinating.” Joseph scribbles more notes.

“You like the idea of bein my mate?” The question is shy, Duck hiding his face in Indrid’s neck.

“So very much. You make me so happy, Duck, you take such good care of meEEEoh, oh I see.” He snickers as Duck thrusts shallowly and laps at his throat, “you like being a good mate, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Fuck yeah. Wanted to, to do this months ago, wanted, when they gave you to me I wanted to climb into bed with you, fuck you sweet and slow and tell you nothin was gonna hurt you now, that you were all mine, keep this cute little body safe under the covers. Under me.” He thrusts several inches at once and Indrid moans, bounces in his lap in search of more, Duck click-growling each time he pushes down.

“Please, please, I want it all, Duck, pleasepleaseAH, AHhnnnngods” he grabs Duck’s arms as they wrap around him, the dragon bottoming out with a groan.

“Holy shit.” Joseph stares at them, and Indrid follows his gaze down to his lower belly, where the outline of Duck’s cock is unmistakable.

“Oh I like that a great deal.” He whispers, biting his lip as the outline slowly moves.

“Me too. Fuck, fuckin love how small you are, you barely fit on my dick and you’re still beggin for it.”

“How could I not?” Indrid purrs, relaxing against Duck’s chest, “this is going to sound very silly, sweetheart, but please, please” he tips his head up to kiss Duck’s chin, “take me?”

A tender, deep purr, then “anythin’ you want, sugar.”

Indrid lets his mouth fall open, spilling moans across the floor as Duck fucks him with abandon. It’s so much, almost too much, but it’s all he wants, to be taken and cared for by the magnificent, loving creature behind him.

The stretch and drag of Duck inside him is so intense he barely registers his own orgasm, though he cums hard enough to splatter some on Joseph’s leg. Then he’s holding on and whimpering as Duck spills into him, hotter than a human and so plentiful it drips down his thighs before the dragon even pulls out.

“Got what you need?” Duck pants, still holding Indrid to him.

“Yes.” Joseph is purring, gaze drinking in the two of them.

“Good. C’mon, sweet thing, let’s do see how my nest holds up to me mating the fuck outta you.”

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

Duck said it was fine to use the glyph to come in without knocking, so that’s what Barclay does. He sets the cake he made in the kitchen, wanders down the hall in search of the others. They weren’t at Joseph’s, so odds are good they’re here. Muffled voices direct him towards the bedroom, but when he arrives his libido kicks all sensible thoughts from his mind.

There’s a giant mound of cushions on the floor, at the middle of which he can see Duck’s tail, the spines of his back and, occasionally, his head. Indrid’s feet and calves are just visible, so limp he’d worry he was asleep except for the little moans he knows quite well. And sitting by the fire, watching the scene with an obvious tent in his lap, is Joseph.

Two scales snouts snap up into the air. Duck notices him, whispers something to Indrid, who waves and then pulls the dragon back down. The same can not be said for Joseph, who is licking his lips like he’s just seen a gourmet meal.

Barclay smirks, moves to the chair but stays standing, stroking one horn as he does, “I’m not interrupting research, am I?”

“Um” Joseph’s cheeks go golden, “yes and no. I, I really was making notes at first but for the last hour it’s been, um, hard to focus.”

“Wonder why. Wait, holy fuck, they’ve been doing this for an hour?”

“One hour and twenty-four minutes.”

“Knew Indrid had stamina but that’s impressive. Uh” he trails a finger up Joseph’s leg, scales as smooth as he’d hoped, “how long have you been dealing with this?”

“Most of that time.” Joseph’s breath catches charmingly as Barclay straddles him.

“Babe” he kisses the warm column of his neck, stopping to pay special attention to each scar, “I know you’re dedicated to your work, but I’m pretty sure they’d let you join them.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“My polite dragon” Barclay nuzzles his cheek, “you still deserve to be taken care of, you know that, right?”

Joseph nods, tips his head to the side so Barclay can nibble his throat while undoing his wrap. What he finds is spectacular; a pointed cock with circular ridges and, beneath it, a slit just begging for his tongue to tease it. But since he’s not done kissing him yet, he adjusts his balance so he can close one around the shaft and slide the fingers of the other into the slit.

The dragon makes a series of hurried clicks and growls, throwing his arms around him and kissing his face, “Barclay, you, you’re so wonderful, I never thought you’d want this, ohgoodgods.”

“I do, babe. I wanna know what my whip-smart, handsome dragon likes, wanna make you come apart” He squeezes lightly and Joseph growls.

“I did not wait this long to cum on you while you’re clothed.” Clawed hands grip his ass as Joseph stands and carries him to the nest on the floor, dropping him into it with uncharacteristic carelessness. Which he then remedies by methodically removing Barclays clothes and folding them into a pile.

“Mmmm, hello dearest.” Indrid turns his head to kiss him as Joseph rolls him to face the other two.

“Hey. Gotta say, you look really good like this.”

“Damn right he does.” Duck’s hips stutter and Indrid squirms happily, “heh, shoulda known Joe would pick that for you. He’s got a thing for thick thighs.”

“Huh? OH! Ohfuckyeah.” He moans as Joseph manhandles him to thrust his cock between his thighs. Teeth nip his neck as golden pre-cum streaks his skin. The scales of his cock rub wonderfully on the base of Barclays own, and soon he’s so hard he’s ready to promise Joseph anything he wants for the chance to cum.

Cool, human fingers encircle his shaft. Indrid grins, “I may not be able to move much, but Joseph seems to be more than capable of getting you to fuck my fist.”

Barclay dips his head forward with a groan to kiss his shoulder.

“You don’t gotta worry about movin’” Duck grunts, tongue darting out to Indrid’s cheek, “all you gotta do is lay here and take my cum like a good little mate whenever I say.”

“Yes, yes, oh goodness Duck please, take me, use meAHnnnnn” a whimper “so much.”

“Shhh, s’okay sweet thing, I’m almost done.”

Joseph purrs in his ear, “cum for me, big guy, cum for me while I coat your thighs and, gods, and Duck breeds your boyfriend into next week.”

“Fuuuuck.” Barclay spills helplessly into Indrid’s hand, holds tight to his shoulder and Joseph’s right arm as the dragon cums between his legs. There’s a muffled curse and an “eep” from beside him, then Duck rolls off Indrid and begins licking the humans cum from his stomach.

“I, I think you built a very sturdy nest.” Joseph curls his body around Barclay and drapes his tail over Indrid’s legs to brush Duck’s.

“Thanks, handsome.”

“I also think living with Indrid for months has made your mind assign him the position of partner, hence the nesting.”

“Makes sense.” Indrid murmurs.

“And--oh” Joseph sighs as Barclay kisses him.

“Promise you can share more theories later, babe. Right now, how about napping with your boyfriends?”

Joseph purrs deeper as they all cuddle closer, “I like the sound of that.”

[ecclais-fouoras]

Sometimes moving on is good

Chapter 10&11

(11&12 on wattpad)

Chapter 9 here

Somehow both of you had managed to get your vacation at the same time, and you were planning to surprise Diane with a trip during the two weeks off you both had.

She was collecting strawberries in her garden and you were watching her from the window like you usually did when she was out. This time you decided to have fun and go find her to help. It was the morning and your flight wasn't before the afternoon.

You dressed to go out and came out the house and behind her so you could surprise her with soft kisses.

Your hands pulled her hair to the side as you pressed your mouth against the back of her neck, moving further to her jawline nibbling her skin quietly as your hands caressed her sides greeting her by kneading both her breasts.

"Oh hello there...what are you doing ?" She playfully asked as she giggled.

"Well I Wanted to meet my neighbor  have you seen her anywhere ?"

"Haha very funny...are you single by any chance ?"

"Yes I am, just don't tell my girlfriend I said that."

She set her box down before turning around and pointing at her house

"I think she lives here but most of the time she spends at her girlfriends house"

"Oh really ? Her partner must be a very nice person"

"Not really she's quite annoying I've heard"

You pretended to be offended for a second before replying.

"hah babe ! I am not annoying..."

She kissed the pout on your face and rested her arms around your shoulders to hold you while yours circled her waist. You both held each other for a few minutes, or was it hours ? Just enjoying the feeling of your bodies against each other, being close.

Her head resting against your neck as the sun was heating her skin keeping you in a warm embrace.

"Are you done with the strawberries ?"

"Almost why ?"

"I'll give you a hand so we can go home quicker"

"Okay we'll get started then"

"I will"

She bent down to pick up the box filled with the red fruit and you smacked her ass as she yelped, "hey !"

"Oops I thought there was a fly right there, wait here it is again" you said before slapping her again before grabbing her by the hips and pulling her close. She moaned at the feeling of your leg between hers.

"What is it about strawberries that gets you going like this y/n ?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not the strawberries."

"Well.. what Then ?"

"It's the paints"

She got up and began picking the berries up and placing them in her basket. You caressed her butt one last time before adding.

"Yeah...it's definitely the paints"

"Get to work y/n"

You took your own box and mimicked her movements. Filling your box up you picked one and brought it to your lips to have a bite.

"Hey put that down"

"Try me" you ate the fruit, moaning at the taste of it.

"You didn't even rince it, that's nasty"

"No it's not, besides you don't put any chemicals in this, it's good for my immune system"

"Yeah it'll be good when you have a little worm growing inside you, y/n"

"Whatever you say babe... At least

Come on and have a taste"

You picked one up again this time holding it between your teeth and moving your head closer to diane's, pausing in front of her lips, waiting for her to bite down on it.

"It's silly y/n"

"Mmf...comMfe..on" after some esitating she finally tasted the strawberry before you spit out the leaves and kissed her softly.

She giggled the sugary taste making your kiss more special.

"I'm really not going faster with you distracting me"

You got back to gardening, and once there was no more ready fruits you both went back to the house, hand in hand except for the recipient you held.

After some washing and tidying up you floped down on the couch her upper body resting on your lap as you massaged her temples with on hand and played with her hair with the other one.

"Baby ?"

"Mmm?" She groaned eyes still shut.

"Sit up please I gotta fetch something reel fast"

"Okay.." she sat up and waited as you disappeared to your office for a second.

You came back with your keys and put on your shoes at the bottom of the stairs.

"Can you grab your coat and put on your shoes again ?"

"Wh..wh..what's going on ?"

"Just trust me babe ?"

"..the things I do for you"

"Take your phone and keys too and meet me in the car baby"

"Wait...y/n !?? Where are we going ?!"

Chapter 11

WARNING ⚠️ SMUT (very slight mommy kink nothing too crazy)

You were both driving to the airport and you had managed to get her to bandage her eyes for the trip, after waiting at the airport you finally had hopped in the plane your baggages in the hold.

The flight was calm and Diane didn't complain about being blinded, your hand was on her thigh, keeping her grounded through contact.

When you were almost there you decided it would be too stupid not to let her see the landscape from up here especially since you weren't sure it would be this sunny when you left. So you tapped her shoulder before whispering in her here that you were going to take it off. She blinked a few times at the sudden light around her, she confusedly looked at you before you said

"I couldn't let you miss this"

Pointing out the small window as you were passing the few lakes and swamps surrounding the colorful fields.

"Oh good...this is beautiful y/n...where are we ?"

"..well this is...ouh you almost had me... nice try baby"

"I had to try"

"You'll find out soon we're almost here"

The rest of the time was calm between the few kisses you shared and the ones you pressed to her neck while your fingers rode up and down her thigh.

When the flight was over you got back your stuff and found the car you'd rented.

You took of her blindfold and she gasped

"Y/n are we in france ????!"

"Really ? What gave it away ? Let me guess the car's plate"

"Well there's an F and the shops have french names"

"Then Yes we are "

"I don't even know what to say y/n...i.. I'm..thank you I guess"

"No need to thank me..baby i wanted to take you on a trip so here we are. Don't get to comfortable cause we are driving for an hour an a half maybe"

"We ? Oh honey you are driving"

"How come ?!"

"It's your trip and I don't know where we're going"

"True"

After driving for around 1h15 you arrived where you were staying, it was a small farm that you had rented, away from the city but not to far so you'd still be able to go visit some stuff. It was a quiet place surrounded by fields and Forests.

"My god baby this place is Wonderful, how did you find this ?!"

"My grandma lives a few minutes away, I used to ride my bike here when I was 5."

She looked saddened all of the sudden for some reason and you couldn't help but hold her in your arms for a second before asking her what was wrong.

"..will you teach me ?..how to ride I mean"

You pulled back slightly raising your brows

"You don't need any help riding me ?...Oh you meant the bike"

"Yes I did you pervert...m..my mother never took the time to teach me"

"Well it'll be my pleasure, surely we can borrow my grandma's we hen we go there tomorrow"

"Wait...what ?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise so you wouldn't be anxious but your meeting my family tomorrow, we're having dinner at their house".

"Why didn't you tell me !? Y/n ! You know how I need to prepare for these...do they know how old I am ? What are they gonna think ?"

"Diane calm down baby..they know all that already they don't care as long as you make me happy and I love you...now let's put these inside I want to show you around before we settle in."

You both put your things inside the house and got ready for a small walk outside.

You went buy the animals that were there, a few goats, donkeys, horses and normand cows all enjoying their grass behind the wooden fence. She looked around eyes shining with amazement, feeding the animals and holding your hand as you went through the small paths protected by the leaves, the sun shining through them leaving dots of light on her face and her bare shoulders. You found a spot near a small fountain where you dipped your feets inside the cold Water, snuggled together while listening to the sounds of birds chirping and animals running though the trees. Your eyes Met each other and you were both driven by the desire to press your lips together, bodies tightly wrapped against each other, you started making on on the soft grass, the green plants tickling her ears as you started prepping up on your elbows on both sides.

Lips trailing downward to her neck, biting collarbones, hands running over her body, curves finding her hair to cup her cheek lovingly. Her breath getting shallower by each pressing of your lips, each touch of your fingers against her skin, eyes flying closed as she enjoyed the feeling of having you have her here.

The sun warming up her skin and water drowning out her sounds, little whimpers fell out of her mouth as you took your breast in one hand, lips starting their way down her body. Taking of her shirt and bra, leaving her chest available for your wet attacks, sucking her nipples as she moaned against you.

Your hands playing with each of her buds while you went down on her, she shivered in anticipation when she felt you take off her panties with your teeth, before she opened her legs welcoming you with her dripping pussy.

"So wet for me my baby"

".. please...I'm close already"

You wasted no time devouring her, between the soft licks on her clit and the sweet sucking of her lips, you had her on the edge quickly, her hips grinding hard against your jaw, fist grabbing anything she could hold, the grass, your hair, her skirt.

"Does that fell good baby ?"

"Uh..uh B..BABE...Y/N I..I'm gonna cum ....AH.!!"

she came when you entered her with two fingers, curling them inside her clenching walls. Bending her back until she snapped shaking in your arms, Your teeth grazing the skin there, drinking up her juices.

You looked up and pulled her panties back on and her skirt back up before coming up and kissed her while whispering.

"I love you"

You walked back to the house after she regained some strength, settling your things in the room before fixing each other something to eat, after you were both finished you washed the dishes while she looked outside again, admiring the landscape.

"I'm done sweetie do you want to go in the jacuzzi ?"

"There's a jacuzzi ?"

"Well it's a hot tub, outside but still"

"Baby i don't have any swimsuit"

"That's a good thing I packed one for you then"

"Well in that case lead the way"

She put on the two piece you'd picked for her, it was a green color that complimented well her red hair, and hugged her curves perfectly. And you had your swim shorts with a bikini top.

"Baby you look so hot in this Diane"

"you know me well babe it's a nice color"

"Hop in then babe, the waters warm just how you like it"

You lented your hand to help her in and she settled herself on your lap, straddling your things.

"There was plenty of room not that I'm complaining but you didn't have to sit here"

"I can get off if you want"

"Well I'm not stopping you if you wanna get off on me like.. go ahead I'll be happy to watch."

"You know what I meant, I can get off of you"

"I don't want you to"

"Good, me neither"

She began kissing your neck while her hands untangled your bikini straps fingers dancing on your nipples as you moaned.

"Let me make you feel as good as you did mommy" she was shocked at the words that came out of her own mouth, never would you had thought it was something that turned her on but you have her a reassuring smile and went on.

"Well go ahead then"

Her hands went down while she kept nibbling your collarbones, underneath your shorts immediately circling your clit, digits dragging through your folds, she build up the pace and grounded her hips down on your thighs, also getting wet from the interaction.

"Go ahead...baby...fuck yourself on mommy's lap"

After a few minutes you both came moaning each others name, her hips grinding with force on your lap, her fingers stroking you in rythme. You rested your head against hers breaths evening out, hands caressing her hair.

"This is going to be a great vacation"

"I love you y/n"

"Me too baby..me too"

[raendown]

The first of my follower milestone gift fics! This one is for @rookie-d for the prompt word effete. 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2884 Rated: T+ Summary: Getting dragged along to places he didn't want to be wasn't new to Madara, not with a best friend like Hashirama. Meeting someone again that he hadn't seen in years and instantly falling in love? That one was definitely newer.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Grown, Possibly Matured

“I cannot believe I let you drag me out here.” 

Hashirama blinked over at him before smiling widely. What a doofus. Did he ever stop smiling?

“No need to be so grumpy, my friend. It’s a celebration! Enjoy yourself!” His ever-present smile grew impossibly wider as he snatched something off the tray of a passing waiter. “Don’t you want any food? It’s free, I checked.”

“Might as well. If I get nothing else out of this I’ll at least have a full belly without paying for it.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

Letting his sigh of disgust blow the hair away from his face, Madara snagged his own passing treat and let his eyes scan the gardens without much interest. It was a nice place. When he’d graduated from college a few years back the ceremony had taken place in the auditorium on campus but Tobirama’s university was one of those fancy big money ones that all the rich families sent their kids to for clout more so than an education. Of course they just happened to have a massive sprawling garden just perfect for outdoor spectacles like this one. He still didn’t understand how a family like the Senju could afford this school. Either Tobirama had the marks to get some very impressive scholarships or every member of their family had agreed to sell at least one of their kidneys to help him pay for it. 

“Why am I even here?” Madara shovelled the little morsel in to one side of his mouth and spoke from the other, ignoring a very prim looking woman in pearls giving him a horrified look. “I haven’t seen your brother since, what, high school? Earlier? I could care less about that knobby-kneed little asshole.” 

“Tobi hasn’t got knobby knees,” Hashirama protested. 

“He did the last time I saw him.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, he did get a little gangly when he finally hit that growth spurt, didn’t he? Ha ha! I remember now! Well he’s grown up a lot since then and I just...I just needed someone here to help me be proud of him!”

Since that was one of the stupidest things he’d ever heard there was no shame in saying so. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. If you want someone to come be proud of him wouldn’t you bring, oh I don’t know, family? You’ve got two other brothers. Or that woman of yours, isn’t she close to him too?”

Hashirama wilted like a flower, as dramatic as he’d been the day they met all the way back in middle school. 

“But our whole family is away on vacation because Tobi didn’t even tell any of us when he was graduating! I wanted Mito to come but she couldn’t get out of work on such short notice and he’d never say anything but I just know he’ll love it so much better when he sees there’s people here to celebrate with him!”

“What was he even in school for again? Something yuppie, obviously.” 

Because his best friend was an idiot who couldn’t read a tone to save his life, Hashirama practically danced off his own feet with pride as he crowed, “A double major! Oh I could just burst! He completed a double major in political science and international relations!”

Madara stared. 

“He went to school...for politics? He’s going in to politics?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Oh great. Wonderful. He was an annoying kid but that brain of his did have some potential. Now he’s gonna waste it.” 

Hashirama stopped bouncing to cock his head, bemused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you know, what good are politicians really? They all talk a big game and they all wear their fancy suits but I’ve never met one who wasn’t entirely full of shit. Every one of them is basically an over-refined waste of space.” 

“Didn’t you tell me once that you wanted to grow up and be the mayor?”

Face suddenly much too hot for the cool weather around them, Madara growled and gave his friend a mighty shove. “Keep your mouth shut!” 

“So mean!” 

Talking about someone he hadn’t seen since they were all still growing in to their own limbs wasn’t exactly Madara’s idea of a good time. Changing the subject to the plans they had made for a beach day that weekend was much more interesting. A little fast talking, a bit of wheedling, and it was possible he might be able to talk Hashirama in to camping out the night without that terrifying fiance of his. Mito was a strong woman, definitely exactly the sort of person someone like Hashirama needed. Madara still didn’t like her. He always got the impression that when she looked at him she wondered what her fiance saw in him and it made his skin itch every time. 

It took another half hour but finally the ceremony began and all of the gathered family and friends were invited to find a seat. Though Madara had been calling the area gardens inside his head it was more like an outdoor amphitheater of some kind with ascending rows of benches carved in to the natural rock. It sort of reminded him of something out of ancient Greece, actually, and he hated a little that it impressed him all the more for it. 

“Ooh, there they are!” Hashirama grabbed his sleeve in excitement, all but lurching out of the seat he’d only just settled in to point at the thick wave of black robed young adults all marching out of a nearby building. Well, not so much marching. Considering the heavy course loads they had all just finished over half of them looked more like they were shuffling along on the strength of their last cup of coffee. That much Madara could relate to.

“Which one’s your brother?”

“There! There he is! Hi Tobi!” 

Either Tobirama didn’t hear the cry from so far away or he was well practiced at ignoring such a fog horn of a voice but none of the faces that turned towards them had any sparks of recognition. From the audience there was mostly fond understanding. Most of the students that looked towards them just looked confused. It was kind of sad but Madara was pretty sure a lot of them had never seen anyone so enthusiastic about supporting their family before. Yuppie types, in his experience, weren’t really great at loving their kids.

He might have based that opinion mostly off his own estranged father. So sue him. 

“When they’re all dressed the same how am I supposed to tell them apart? I remember he’s got white hair.” Madara gave the massive group of black robed figures a half-hearted once over. “There’s got to be a dozen people in there with white hair.”

“That’s easy,” Hashirama said. “My Tobi is the best one!” 

“Alright, well, that doesn’t really help much but...you tried?”

Despite his friend’s utter lack of ability to describe one simple human face Madara did eventually figure out which one was Tobirama. Not that he had to put much deduction work in; all he needed to do was sit back and wait until eventually the name ‘Senju Tobirama’ was called and one of the white-hair-black-robe-graduation-cap people broke away from the rest to ponce across the stage with more grace than any disney forest animal could ever dream of. 

The distance between them was still too large to really make out any fine details but the one thing Madara picked up on had him scowling out of reflex, hunkering down in his seat with arms crossed while Hashirama practically vibrated out of his own skin trying to holler his pride for the world to hear. 

He’d gotten taller! That rat bastard of an albino must have had another growth spurt since they last saw each other. What the hell was it about Senju genes? Even from this far away Madara could tell he would barely pass the guy’s chin and there was just something fundamentally unfair about that. He was older! Didn’t he get to be taller than anybody? 

Izuna didn’t count. As the youngest brother it was his duty to stay short forever. 

Like the disgustingly emotional child he was, it took Hashirama several minutes after his brother had completely vacated the stage for him to finally sit down and heave a deep sigh, followed immediately by several quivering breaths. Madara dug in to one pocket and threw a tissue in his stupid face. He’d learned to carry those around years ago no matter where they were going after one too many of his shirts had been ruined for lack of anything else around to cry on. When it came to Hashirama emotions could attack at any time. And usually for the stupidest reasons. 

Waiting out the rest of the ceremony was somehow even more boring now that he wasn’t watching for anyone specific to walk across the stage. It seemed unfair to him that alphabetically ‘Senju’ was so far down the list that there was less than a quarter of the names left to call and somehow it all seemed to last four times as long as the rest of this stupid ceremony had. Finally, however, the entire audience was invited to stand for applause and Madara did so with a groan, shaking out his legs in the hopes that doing so would discretely wake up his ass, gone numb from sitting for too long. 

Hashirama turned to him with brilliant eyes the moment the ceremony was announced complete. 

“There’s more snacks and drinks in the hall over there,” he said. “I texted Tobi to meet us, come on!”

“I could go for another snack I guess.” Madara let himself be pulled through the crowd, grateful for once that his best friend was such a tree that people just stepped out of his way without question. His interest in heading across to the fancy hall looming over them may have had something to do with more than just filling his belly now but he saw no need to say so out loud. 

Once they were inside the sheer number of human beings here for today’s ceremony became much harder to ignore, trapped together between four walls that echoed the roar of a hundred different conversations back and forth until Madara was tempted to clap both hands over his ears. The semi-permanent scowl on his face deepened with every step they took, wading through the tight knit throng until at last Hashirama shot up on to his toes with excitement. 

“There! Look! Tobi, over here! Hey Tobi!” 

Madara sighed, pulling the ends of his hair away from the grasping fingers of someone’s poorly attended baby, then looked up when a shadow fell over him. Alright. So maybe coming here today had been a good decision. If nothing else it afforded him the chance to see this human adonis up close. 

Even with the traditionally ill-fitting graduation robe covering the finer details it was still easy to see that Tobirama had not only grown up, he’d grown up good. The height difference between them was even more than Madara had guessed and the sharp lines of his face had settled in to something like chiseled marble over the years, less the young weasel his classmates used to call him and closer now to what one would expect to find on a magazine cover. He’d even had tattoos done that accentuated his cheeks plus one running down his chin and neck to disappear in line with the buttons of his shirt. To his utter horror, Madara’s first thought was how very much he wanted to trace those lines with his tongue. 

“Congratulations!” Hashirama crowed, throwing himself at his brother with wet eyes and a beaming smile. Tobirama, impossibly, withstood the storm of affection without so much as swaying on the spot. 

“Thank you Anija,” he rumbled, oblivious to the involuntary whine that slipped out from between Madara’s lips. Thank all the non existent gods for the noise in here covering such an embarrassing sound. It wasn’t fair. He already looked delicious, did he have to sound like a wet dream too?

“You remember my friend Madara, right? Were you surprised? Surprise! We wanted to come celebrate with you!” 

One pale brow lifted as Tobirama detangled himself from Hashirama’s embrace with enviable ease. “Hardly a surprise when you called me last night to tell me you were coming, though I appreciate the sentiment. Madara...yes, I remember. Hello Madara.”

“Nng.” Oh very good. Very intelligent. Such a good showing he was making of himself. 

“Your presence here is more of a surprise than my brother’s. It’s been quite some time.” 

“Guess so,” Madara grumbled. 

Tobirama cocked his head to one side. “And what are you doing with yourself these days, Madara?”

He was only being polite, something that age seemed to have added since he definitely wasn’t polite as a little kid, brain too fast for anyone else to keep up with and constantly exasperated that he needed to slow himself down. It was an improvement for sure. One that Madara should have appreciated. It certainly wasn’t his fault that he’d grown up to tick off every box on Madara’s list of things that were physically attractive. Still, the attitude was rising and emotions he’d never liked in himself were prickling and there was no stopping the defensive tone spitting its way out of his mouth. 

“Something more useful than where you’re headed, that’s for sure. Politics? Really? I never took you for the lazy sort.” Madara, with what little wisdom he had, very much wanted to hit himself even as the words escaped him. He didn’t blame Tobirama at all for lifting that second too-perfect brow. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Everyone knows that politicians are all talk and no action, too caught up in looking all important and sounding all smart but they’re never really useful. Shame. You always had a good brain, too bad you’re gonna waste it cushioning your ass on the publics’ dollar.” 

“The only shame here”-oh but the fire in his voice would have been glorious all on its own even without the deep bass rumble of his voice-“is that you seem to have grown up with your head lodged inside your own asshole. If you think for one second that I intend to rest on my laurels then I invite you go fuck yourself with the sharpest stick you can find. The two of you used to talk big words about changing the word when we were all kids. Tell me, how many internships have you suffered through for the chance to do so? How many scholarships did you study for just to meet the right people and share your proposals with the right ears? Go on, Madara, tell me how many tax breaks you leveraged before you even made it all the way through university?” 

Madara swallowed thickly, barely feeling the pressure when Hashirama put a hand on his chest to separate the two of them. It definitely said something about him that he should be so aroused from getting such a thorough dressing down in public but he couldn’t bring himself to worry much about it. Not when he had more important things to concentrate on. Like the fact that he’d just fallen in love in the space of two minutes. 

“Sweet mother of fire,” he whispered. “Marry me.”

Both of the Senju brothers looked at him like he’d grown an extra limb. Hashirama coughed nervously, eyes flitting between them like a nervous rabbit. 

“Let’s all just calm down now, alright? Today is supposed to be a happy day!”

“Indeed it is. Thank you for coming, Anija. Perhaps you might make this a happier day for me by removing this trash from the premises.” With his final piece spoken Tobiraama lifted his nose in to the air and turned to walk away, striding through the crowd as easily as if the room were empty and exuding all the prim fussiness of someone who had spent a decade in the social minefield of politics already. 

Hashirama moaned dramatically and leapt after his sibling. “Wait, Tobi! Maddy didn’t mean it! Come back, we can all be friends!”

Several minutes passed in a haze before Madara even noticed that he was now standing alone in a room crowded with a bunch of uppity strangers, several of them staring at him as though worrying for his mental health. He couldn’t blame them. Not if the expression on his face was half as dazed as he felt. Considering how loud the place was it was somewhat of a miracle that he could still hear Hashirama’s voice booming from somewhere off to the left but he chose not to question his luck, only turned to float off in that direction, hoping Tobirama was still here. Following after them would almost definitely end with more insults being thrown at him.

And like the twisted man he was Madara could freely admit that he was looking forward to it. He’d never met anyone with half as much fire in them as Senju Tobirama. He wondered, dreamily, how long it was going to take him to convince the other man to take his proposal seriously. 

[one-shot-plus-size]

Home is where the heart is. Part 6.

Imagine : Clayton Cardenas meets Olivia Mazru, who is on vacation in the USA for the first time.

Chapters: 6/10

Each of the 7 chapters will cover 3 days of Olivia’s vacation, and 3 chapters will cover the time after returning home.

Part 5

Clayton took her for breakfast and then for a walk to Central Park. Their hands were all the time intertwined, they walked through the green area. All the time his hand embraced her, his thumb gently smoothed her skin. At noon, they took the food out of the pub and settled on the grass in the quietest part of the park - Sheep Meadow.

- And how do you like it? - Clayton was looking at her pushing pasta into her mouth.  

- I am not used to such noise, you know I live in the countryside. In a small house in the forest, I have a garden and a sacred peace. This city is vibrant with life, it also has its charm. But in the long run it would be tiresome - she smiled at it, putting a little shrimp in her mouth. 

- How is it where you live ? - he rested his hands on his knees. 

- I have a beautiful little house made of wood. I built it myself, my colleague is an architect. She helped me to put on paper what I had in my head, then she adjusted it to the building conditions in the area. The family helped me with the construction and in about two years my dream places were created. - She was looking at it. 

His eyebrows reached the hairline, he was surprised how resourceful it was. 

- I don't care about the picture - she pulled the phone out of her pocket. 

She searched the photo gallery on the phone until she found this one picture of her house. She turned the device in his direction, Clay looked at the photo.

- This is a photo a few days after the construction and cleaning up of the site. Now I have an access road, I've given myself a place where I park my car. A friend helped me to make a terrace at the back of the house and a porch in front.

- I will be honest, right ? - He was looking at it. 

- Sure - she nodded her head blocking the device and putting it away. 

- Marry me - he laughed - he has lived in this world for 33 years and I have never met such a resourceful and overwhelming woman as you. You have your own company, you work on a full-time basis and you have built a house with your own hands. I am in shock, the guy you give your heart to will be the happiest guy in the world. 

She snorted under her nose and twisted her head. 

- Poland is not like the United States. In my country, people like me are somewhat excluded. Maybe not excluded but more unwanted. There, people with colorful hair, numerous earrings and quite a lot of overweight are different, avoided. Guys want beautiful women, slim with normal hair color. Well I don't fit in, I've never been like most people and never will be. My introverted character doesn't help to meet new people. Some time ago I realized that I want to live on my own terms. This is my life, I am what I am and nobody can dictate my conditions. - She looked at it - I'm sorry, I'm talking nonsense.

Clayton was staring into the space in front of him, holding a box of food in his hands. His eyebrows were wrinkled in thought. 

- You don't say stupidity, people can be cruel without any reason. And how you handled all this is admirable. Wear yourself proud, because you deserve it - He leaned slightly and wet her on the cheek. 

- Thanks - she blushed. 

After the meal they lay down on the grass and talked about everything and nothing concrete. They simply enjoyed their company. After resting they went to METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART. 

- Do you want coffee? - Clay stood before her.

- With milk, please - she smiled and sat on the stairs.

- Good - he nodded his head. 

He put his hands on her knees and leaned on them. He leaned down and kissed her a little bit harder first. Her hand rested on his cheek and smiled slightly. He broke away from her, cmocked her in the forehead and went to the coffee shop. Olivia ran her thumb over her mouth and smiled like a fool. 

- It's good to be in love - a voice was heard behind her. 

She turned around behind her, saw a middle-aged woman with a smile from ear to ear. 

- That boy of yours must love you - she looked at him - you can see it from people, I used to be like that too. Please nurture love is the most important thing in your life. 

- Thank you - she smiled slightly. 

She turned her head when Clayton ordered coffee. She looked at him, his ass was perfectly exposed by dark jeans. The horizontal line shirt emphasized his shoulder muscles and slim figure well. Hair in total disorder added to his charm, he turned to her as if feeling her gaze. He smiled widely and returned to the woman in the booth with his gaze. When he smiled on his cheeks two sweet bouquets were formed on his cheeks like in small, plump children. The smile was spreading all over his face, he looked so charming then. She smiled to herself and let her head down. She wanted to have such a guy with her, all her co-workers' jaws would fall down. After a few moments, Clay fell down next to her giving her a cup of coffee. 

- Thanks - she nodded her head. 

She looked at the streets and the cars driving around, this city was really bustling with life. Crowds of people were walking the streets, people were hurrying. Businessmen in well-cut suits, women in perfect suits. Everyone was in a hurry, chasing for money. For a fortune which, after death, will be of no use to any of us. But each of us had different priorities in life, each of us wanted to experience them differently. 

- What are you so proud of? - Clay poked her on the shoulder. 

- Nothing concrete. 

He nodded his head slightly and stared at the space in front of him. 

- When do you start recording the second season of Mayan's MC? 

- In just over a month we start working on the set. 

- Cool, I watched all seasons of Sons of Anarchy on Netflix when I worked at home for some time. I was absorbed by this series endlessly, Kurt Sutter did a good job.

- Have you watched us? - He looked at her - in the sense of Mayan's MC?

- Of course I did - she was nodding her head - a bit illegal, but I had no other choice. 

- Oh - he laughed. 

- You know, in my country there is no such access to series and films as here. Sometimes you have to exercise yourself to get over something.

- He promises you that when we record the second season he will send you records with episodes so you don't have to break the law - he laughed.

- I take your word for it - she patted it on the shoulder. 

- SAMCRO's favorite character?

- Chibs - she laughed. 

- Why ? - He was drinking coffee by peeking at it.

- Throughout the whole series he probably went through the biggest change, even though he was broken so many times, he was hurt so much, he was still such a wicked Scotsman. Then I guess Jackson didn't quite understand the ending, but after a while I know that he was just being eaten by remorse. 

- And at Mayan's? 

- Honestly it's hard to say, this is only the first season, it's not known how the characters will develop. But if I were to say now it would probably be either Bishop or a young part of the club. Bishop because he emanates such strength, decisiveness and power. And young because there is a great relationship and interaction between them. Your role of Angela Reyes is really cool, you play him great.

- Thanks - he blushed on his cheeks. 

- You play really well, you are talented. 

- That's enough or I'll blush. 

- Too late - she laughed. 

- Shut up - he snorted at her. 

She leaned her chin against his shoulder. He looked at her and smiled slightly. 

- So where are you going to take me today, what?

- What would you like to see? - He finished his coffee. 

- I was planning a Time Squer in the evening. 

- So we will go there - he nodded his head - any more special wishes ?

- I guess not for today anymore, but I will come up with something for tomorrow. 

- How about if he plans a great day tomorrow, then we'll go to dinner in the evening. And we will spend the next day in bed ? You're out in a few days, and I'd like to give you some more pleasure. 

He noticed how he bites his lower lip. 

- If you want to, of course - he added quietly. 

Olivia put the coffee mug on the step between her legs, grabbed Clayton's beard and turned his face in her direction. She dipped him in the mouth without taking the look away from him.

- She wanted to - she smiled slightly. 

He leaned harder towards her, nudged her nose and kissed her lightly. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the taste of her as she opened her lips, he entered them with his tongue. He broke away from her and looked around him biting his lower lip.

- Come on - he squinted and rose. 

He dragged her behind him to the Museum building, walked quickly to the ticket offices. 

- Can we use the toilet? My girlfriend wants to pee terribly - he gave the cashier his company smile.   

- You have to buy the tickets - the cashier did not even look at them.

Clayton snorted under his nose, took the amount deducted to the counter. Then he dragged Olivia to the bathrooms. 

- What are you doing? - She followed him. 

- You'll see - He pushed her into the bathroom. 

He looked around again and followed her into the room. He locked the door behind him, pressed her firmly against the wall and kissed her. A moan came out of her mouth when he rolled his hips into her. She felt his penis pressed against his pants, her hand slipped down on his crotch. She rubbed them a few times, and he broke away from her. He leaned his forehead against her forehead and moaned.

- Do you like to do this in a public place ? - she looked into his eyes.

He smiled wide, his hands slipped on her pants. He unbuttoned them and slid his hand into her panties, he felt how wet it was. He slipped his fingers inside her, she moaned in his ear. He moved them strongly and quickly, stabbed his teeth in her neck. 

- Clay...- she moaned constantly. 

- Come on, baby - he whispered in her ear - he feels you clench, come on my toes. And I'll give you what you need. 

He moved faster and faster, she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. When she had an orgasm, she stuck her teeth into his shoulder, and he hissed. He pulled his fingers out of it and put them in his mouth, stared at her eyes. 

- You taste so good - he muttered. 

She grabbed his hand, slipped her fingers into her mouth. She braided them with her tongue and kept eye contact with him all the time. 

- Enough - he muttered.  

He grabbed her ass and led her to the sink, on which he had planted her before taking off her pants. When he kissed her, she was getting to him. She unfastened his belt buckle, button and lock. He helped slide them down to his knees together with the boxers. She embraced him with her hand and moved him several times. 

- Fuck - he leaned his forehead against her shoulder. 

She braided him with her legs at the waist and attracted to herself. He moved his penis along her entrance, irritated her for a while, and then finally went deep into her. 

- If they catch us it will burn - she moaned.

- A note of adrenaline - he laughed.

He did not brake, they did it quickly. Initially she was worried that someone might catch them having sex in the Museum bathroom, but as the pleasure grew, she did not care. She was sticking her teeth into his shoulder when she had a second orgasm, Clayton needed a longer time to come. He stabbed his face in her neck and grunted when he was falling down inside her. Olivia was smoothing his hair while he calmed his breath, raised his head slightly. He wetted her in the mouth and slipped out of her. First he wiped himself and packed into his boxers and pants and then cleaned her up. With a soaked towel, he helped her put on her underwear and pants. He pushed her to the door for a while and kissed her deeply.

- You are the first woman I have done such a thing with - he smiled at her mouth.

 - I am usually not like that. 

- Usually you are polite and laid out ? - she improved herself in the mirror. 

- So that you know - he nodded his head. 

He opened the door, slid his head through the door and looked around the hallway. When he saw that nobody was there, he pulled Olivia out of the room.  

- I won't believe you are a good boy - she laughed following him.

Part 7

[cyberhwas]

➳ pairing/characters: hercules! mingi x reader, wooyoung as terpishchore (muse of dance), seonghwa as erato (muse of love poetry), hongjoong as euterpe (muse of music), jongho as polyhymnia (muse of hymns), yeosang as thalia (muse of comedy), san as clio (muse of history), yunho as urania (muse of astronomy) 

➳genre: fluff, greek mythology au, inspired by hercules (the animated disney film), romance, angst, mutual pining, denial of feelings (reader is very stubborn hehe) 

➳ tw: mentions of death, slight violence, light swearing, soul-selling, servitude, mentions of bullying (nothing too intense)   

➳ disclaimer: may contain slight inaccuracies concerning dates, i also changed the story a little bit to make it a less bit intense, so there won’t be anything like what happened in the movie, which is honestly a bit intense? i mean, hercules goes to the underworld and retrieves meg’s soul after she gets crushed by a boulder so i won’t be including that outcome in this series. 

➳ rating: m, 18+

➳ wc: 5.8k

➳  summary:  after your first relationship had ended quite tragically, love was the last thing on your mind. however, after countless encounters with song mingi, the beautiful hero, being open to love again seemed possible.

 ➳ note: this was originally supposed to be a drabble, but i guess it’s a mini fic series now? oops? anyways, i hope you all enjoy this, and, as always, feedback is always appreciated💖!! i adore all of you so much and i hope all of you are staying safe and drinking lots of water!! please take care of yourselves my loves!! also this is my first time posting a fic on this blog, so it’s lowkey nerve-wracking but here goes nothing! 

“it’s too cliché, i won’t say i’m in love.” - megara (hercules, 1997)

( june 1, 1300 b.c.e) 

you sighed, wringing out your wet hair, gaze shifting to the muscular male a few feet away, whose cheeks were flushed with pink and looked quite embarrassed. “s-sorry about that.” he mumbled, blush deepening. despite that fact that you had just gotten splashed with water, you couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. “don’t worry about it, wonder boy. besides, you saved me from the nessus, after all.” 

he laughed softly at the nickname,  hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “it was nothing, really.” you rolled your eyes, fingers combing through your damp hair, ridding it of tangles. “you are too humble, wonder boy.” “i-it’s mingi, actually.” “hmm, it suits you, but i think i like wonder boy better.” you smirked, trying not to laugh at how flustered said male was, turning a shade equally as red as his hair. 

 out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a flash of pink and green, as well as a tendril of black smoke, and tried not to grimace at the sight. “well, i better go. thanks for saving me, wonder boy.” you turned to go, ignoring the dread pooling in your stomach at having to talk with hades again. “wait, can i at least get your name?” mingi blurted, stopping you in your tracks. you glanced over your shoulder, making sure to keep your expression as neutral as possible. “it’s y/n.” and with that, you disappeared into the heart of the woods, ignoring the erratic beating of your heart. 

you braced yourself for the annoying lecture you were going to receive from the god of death himself, watching as he took physical form, tendrils of black smoke filling the air. a few seconds later, hades stood in front of you; his two minions standing attentively at his side. “y/n, how was your first meeting with wonder breath?” “fine.” hades frowned. “that’s it?” “nothing, you know, dramatic happen?” you tried not to roll your eyes at how clueless hades was acting, as if he wasn’t the one that summoned the monster in the first place. “the monster grabbed me, i pretended to act like a damsel in distress, wonder boy saved me; i got splashed with water, that’s about it.” “so, he didn’t, you know, show a weakness that might help me defeat him?” 

“no, wonder boy’s as strong and unbeatable as they say.” hades’ dark eyes narrowed. “we’ll see about that.” he murmured, and you ignored the uneasy feeling in your stomach. “good work today, y/n. once wonder boy falls for you, then we can find out what exactly can break him.” you swallowed against the bile rising in your throat, and managed a weak nod. 

“don’t forget the deal we made.” you resisted the urge to scowl at the way hades’ lip curled at your reaction. 

centuries ago, you were a completely different girl, romantic and open to love. you had fallen in love with your then boyfriend at the time, only to have him taken away from you, permanently. a sickness had plagued the small village you lived in at the time, and your boyfriend had been unfortunate enough to succumb to the deadly illness, and died just a week after he had contracted it. you were desperate and heartbroken, and then during one rainy day, hades had appeared before you, offering you a deal. he would revive your boyfriend, but only if you would sell your soul to him, as well as promising years of servitude. agreeing to such a deal would be foolish and unorthodox, especially for a dead lover, but because your heart and mind were so broken, you had agreed to hades’ terms. 

hades had summoned a scroll and a black feather quill, and thus, your soul had been signed away. the god of the underworld had kept his word and revived your lover, but he had soon ripped your heart out by leaving you for another woman. you had never felt so foolish in your life, and from that day on, you swore off love, and built walls around yourself, refusing to let anyone in, afraid of suffering the same fate you had with your first love. 

“you’re my servant, don’t forget that. and what i tell you to do, you do it, unless you want to be thrown in tarturus, or maybe suffer the same fate as him?” you fought the urge to punch hades in his horrifyingly gorgeous face as you shook your head, careful not to let your anger show. “i don’t have any complaints.” hades smiled, seemingly pleased. “good, you know what to do, with wonder breath then?” you nodded, tearing your gaze away from his dark, soulless, eyes. 

hades gave you a mock wave as he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. when you were finally alone, you collapsed onto the soft, green grass, burying your face into your hands, sobbing. 

(months later) 

you allowed yourself a small smile at the dainty, white flower in your hand, the sweet-smelling petals invading your senses; the petals soft and velvety against your fingertips. it was a particularly beautiful day, with the sun shining brightly above you, the sky cloudless and a gorgeous shade of light blue. there was even a small breeze that tickled your skin and hair,  fresh air washing over you, relieving you from the otherwise unbearable heat. you were sitting on a stone bench in a garden, enjoying the great weather and admiring the flower in your hand. it’d been nearly four months since you had begun to flirt with mingi, and there were days where you had forgotten the reason you were talking to him in the first place. mingi was not only unbelievably gorgeous, with fiery red hair and forest green eyes that turned into crescents whenever he smiled, but he was also unfailingly sweet, gracious, humble, clumsy, and polite. 

mingi would also turn an adorable shade of pink whenever you would compliment him, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. you also tried your best not to stare at his arms, which were corded with muscle, as they were quite distracting. 

and over the past few months, you had found yourself becoming more and more intrigued and infatuated with mingi, of which you couldn’t help but scold yourself for. there was a part of you that was convinced the sweet words he spoke so often were sincere, but then there was also the part of you that thought otherwise. after all, your last lover had left you to wallow in your own sadness, without so much as a goodbye, even after you had sacrificed so much for him to be able to live again. 

suddenly, annoyance coursed through you and you threw the flower over your shoulder in disgust, not bothering to see where it landed. “y/n, seriously? you’re throwing away a perfectly good flower? it’s like you don’t even care about nature.” you fought the urge to roll your eyes. “wooyoung, i didn’t throw it away, i just carelessly tossed it.” “uh huh, sure.” you couldn’t fight the fond smile that tugged at your lips as you turned to look at the muse, who was standing behind you, mock disapproval on his face. beside him, a tall, silver haired male scoffed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “would you quit being a pain in the ass, woo?” seonghwa scolded good naturedly. aforementioned male pouted, the gesture nearly childlike. “you’re so mean seonghwa-hyung.” the older rolled his eyes, expression brightening upon seeing you. “hey, y/n, how’s everything?” you shrugged, ignoring how wooyoung’s hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion. “alright, how is everyone?” “oh, you know, being a pain in my ass, as always.” 

“ignore him, he’s been having writer’s block and has been moping about it for days, so he’d taking out all his pent-up anger on us by being a mother hen all the time.” “kim hongjoong, you better shut it right now before i throw you into tarturus.” 

said muse giggled, head popping out from behind a tall tree, blue hair falling in strands across his forehead. “hi!” hongjoong called out from his hiding place, small hand waving in greeting. “hi , joong, it’s nice to see you!” “likewise!” “what are you doing over there?” “o-oh, i was picking flowers, i was going to weave them into a flower crown.” hongjoong mumbled shyly, a light shade of pink settling across his cheekbones, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight. 

“you’re adorable.” “am not. i am older than you, you know.” “yes, but you’re as intimidating as a baby bunny.” “shut up, i am not adorable!” “fine, fine, whatever you say, joong.” “i hate you.” “aw, i love you too.” 

hongjoong sighed as he stepped out from behind the tree, a bunch of pink flowers in his hand, settling down on a patch of grass a few feet away, setting to work on his crown. “if any of you dare to annoy me while i do this, i will bite you.” “wow, cannablism much, hyung?” “san, shut up.” “wow, hyung, you’re so cruel! i just got here and you’re already insulting me!” “san, i swear to zeus, you better shut your mouth and let me weave this gods-damned flower crown before i strangle you.” “damn, someone has a-” “san, would you please just stop being a pain in the ass and listen?” “ok, ok, fine.” san plopped down on the ground next to wooyoung, who was busy admiring the flower in his hand, violet eyes shifting towards you, a smile breaking out on his gorgeous face, dimples indented in his cheeks. “y/n! i haven’t seen you in a millennia! how are things?” “alright, how are you?” “oh, you know, just trying to make sure wooyoung doesn’t get kidnapped or thrown in tarturus, the usual.” “why am i always being bullied?” “because you’re so easy to pick on, woo.” the blonde male gasped in mock offense. “san! how could you say such a thing? i thought we were friends!” said male only rolled his eyes. “quit being so dramatic, will you? you’re giving me a headache! and would you stop yelling? i’m pretty sure zeus can hear you.” “y/n, help me! i’m suffering!” wooyoung whined, falling dramatically into san’s lap, white chiton billowing with the movement. you laughed. “sorry, woo, i’m kind of outnumbered here.” 

wooyoung huffed in annoyance. “stupid hyungs won’t go away and leave me alone.” that earned him a finger flick to the forehead, causing him to cry out in pain. “san, what was that for? that fucking hurt, you know!” the former ignored him. “you should be grateful we’re even around to look after you, you big baby.” 

you rolled your eyes fondly at their incessant bickering, and settled down on the grass next to san, leaning your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. immediately, you felt an arm wrap around your own shoulders. ever since you had met the muses all those years ago, you had become extremely close with all of them, and they were not only your best friends, also the older brothers you’ve always wanted.  they always looked out for you, no matter what, and was there for you when no one else was, and had always treated you like a sister. 

“seriously, though, what’s up with you? you seem happier these days.” san’s tone was light, teasing, but the question was enough to make your face flush scarlet. “you’re as red as a tomato, are you seeing someone?” wooyoung asked, hazel eyes alight with curiosity. one of san’s perfect eyebrows raised in question. “well?” “there’s no one!” “liar.” seonghwa sing-songed from where he was sitting with hongjoong a few feet away, watching the latter with a fond gaze as the petite male wove flowers into a crown. “ok, ok fine, there might be someone.” you mumbled, immediately regretting it when san’s face practically lit up, green eyes twinkling with mirth. “oh? who is it? maybe we know him?” you hesitated, not sure if telling them about mingi was the greatest idea, but you decided to just do it, for you knew that the muses would keep pestering you about him for gods knows how long. 

“i-it’s mingi?” as soon as his name left your mouth, san and wooyoung gasped. “NO WAY! SONG MINGI??? AS IN THE HERO HIMSELF??!”  “yes?” san gave your shoulder a light shove. “how long?” “how long what?” “how long have you been seeing him for?” you blushed furiously. “we’re not dating.” “oh, so do you have a crush on him?” “what? no!” san chuckled, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “y/n, you’re not fooling anyone. you definitely have feelings for mingi, don’t you?” you sighed in defeat. “i really don’t know yet. i’m still trying to figure out my feelings.” san hummed in acknowledgment. “well, you didn’t confirm nor deny, which means that we have the right to tease you about your potential lover!” “say it a little louder, will you?” you hissed, a light shade of red settling across your cheekbones. 

seonghwa snickered, ducking his head down slightly so that hongjoong could place the now finished flower crown on his head. “there’s no shame in being attracted to someone, it’s normal.” “it’s not that i’m embarrassed, it’s just.. i don’t know if i’m ready or willing to be attracted to someone, not after-” san cut you off by throwing his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “don’t you dare finish that sentence. that jerk deserves to rot in tarturus for hurting you.” wooyoung nodded, expression darkening. “i really wanted to punch his face in that day.” 

‘‘we all wanted to.” seonghwa mumbled, crossing his lean arms over his chest, frowning at the memory. “i’m sorry for ruining the mood.” “oh, don’t you dare. you did nothing wrong, y/n. and you did not ruin the mood.” “i did though?” hongjoong shot you a look from across the garden, chestnut eyes flashing with warning. “y/n, please stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault. i hate seeing you miserable, we all do.” his voice was gentle, yet firm, and your heart clenched at how sincere he was. “i really don’t deserve you all as friends.” seonghwa scoffed. “i think it’s the other way around, y/n.” 

where’s yeosang, jongho and yunho?” “jongho’s probably forcing yeosang and yunho to listen to one of his newly written hymns. he’s very picky about them, you know.” “but aren’t they-”  “the muse of comedy and astronomy? yes, which is why yeosang and yunho always complain when jongho asks them for feedback, as they know nothing about music.” “yeah, that’s my forte.” hongjoong mumbled, a slight pout on his lips. “he never asks me for help on anything, hyung.” seonghwa rolled his eyes half-heartedly, reaching out to ruffe the younger’s hair affectionately. “it’s ok, joong, he’ll ask you one day.” “i’ve literally been waiting for a whole gods damn century, hwa!” 

seonghwa tried not to laugh as he pulled the younger into a hug, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “i know, i know, just be patient.” hongjoong huffed, but didn’t say anything after that, burying his face into the crook of seonghwa’s neck, sighing. “the day jongho asks me for help on one of his hymns is the day i will throw myself into tarturus.” “please don’t do that, joong. someone has to help me keep jung wooyoung and choi san in check, i can’t do it on my own.” aforementioned muses cried out in protest. “hey!” seonghwa ignored them, hugging hongjoong tighter. san rolled his eyes, falling back onto the grass, pulling you and wooyoung down with him. you laughed and closed your eyes, letting sleep take over.

mingi couldn’t help but smile as he tossed a stone carelessly across the smooth surface of the river, face flushing scarlet as it always did when he thought of her. cheesy and cliché as it was, she was truly unlike any girl he had ever met, for most of them practically fell at his feet, which made him highly uncomfortable, especially when they would propose marriage. he shuddered, remembering coming back from a particularly difficult mission, which had included killing the hydra, a three-headed beast that had begun terrorizing a small, defenseless village, and as he had walked through the streets once home, girls had tried to grab at him and even went as far as to chase him around the town. 

while mingi was happy that the village acknowledged him, the female attention was well, irritating. people had teased him for it, claiming that he secretly loved it and just was pretending not to like the attention. he really truly hated it, dreaded it even, and would breathe a sigh of relief whenever he managed to escape his very, very, enthusiastic admirers. 

you were different. while you were aware who he was, you didn’t know the “heroic” side of him, which was something that mingi could rarely keep under-wraps lately, and it both surprised and relieved him that you didn’t have a clue about his accomplishments. mingi always felt so awkward whenever people would constantly praise him for his bravery, heroic deeds, the like. he never knew what to say, as he didn’t want to sound arrogant or narcissistic. deep down, mingi hated it when people would talk for days on end about his heroic deeds, for it made him feel a bit uncomfortable. and yes, maybe he asked for all the praise and the glory when he had practically begged maddox to train him, in hopes that people wouldn’t see him as “different” or a “freak.” 

when he’d been living with his parents in the small village he used to call home, all the kids wanted nothing to do with him, for they thought the unnatural strength he possessed was scary and abnormal. after enduring their harsh words for years, mingi decided to leave home and try to find someone who would help him control his strength. 

at first, maddox had been reluctant, especially after all the past heroes he trained died tragically, but eventually gave in when he realized that mingi wasn’t going to take no for an answer. training was difficult, and there had been times where maddox was ready to give up on mingi entirely, to tell him to go back home, but mingi was determined, and he began to improve. 

the training had paid off, mingi supposed, as fighting was something that now came naturally to him. “still thinking about that girl, huh?” mingi fought to hide the blush that was spreading across his cheekbones. “n-no, what makes you say that?” maddox scoffed. “kid, please, you’re making it obvious. you’ve been spacing out a lot recently. plus, you always have that look on your face.” “what look?” “oh you know, the look that says i’m a fool in love, something like that.” “i-i’ve only known her for a few months.” “and?” “there’s no way-” maddox held up a hand, silencing him. “look kid, i know i may not look like the type who’d be in love, but i’ve been there. and you definitely look how i felt centuries ago.” “i mean, i guess i am, i don’t know.” 

maddox leaned against a tall tree, scoffing. “you are kid, trust me. i can see the way you look at her, you’re very much smitten.” “i-i guess?” “you’ll see for yourself one of these days.” mingi ignored how his face flushed at the thought of you having feelings for him, and turned away from his mentor, looking out at the smooth surface of the river in front of him, trying not to let his mind wander. 

“so, are you sure you’re not in love with him? not even a tiny bit?” yeosang asked, lifting a perfect eyebrow in question. you scoffed, placing the scroll you’d been reading off to the side of the large wood table in front of you. you and yeosang were currently in the spacious library that the comedy muse often occupied during the week, reading various scrolls. “did the others tell you?” yeosang rolled his eyes. “of course they did. well, it was mostly wooyoung. you know that little shit can’t keep his mouth shut sometimes.” “wooyoung may be loud, but he’s the sweetest and he means well.” 

“yeah, yeah. anyways, how’d you meet mingi?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “how much did wooyoung tell you?” yeosang chuckled. “too much.” “i will kick his ass later.” you mumbled. “i’ll help.” the former offered, lavender eyes twinkling with mirth. 

“he saved me from a nessus months ago, and from then on, we just kept bumping into each other after that.” “by coincidence? or by chance?” you shrugged, ignoring the pang of guilt that shot through you. “probably by chance. we just somehow end up seeing each other in the most unlikely circumstances.” yeosang hummed thoughtfully. “you definitely have it bad.” “what? what do you mean by that?” “y/n, even the dumbest person alive can tell that you are in love with him.” 

you threw your hands up in exasperation. “why does everyone think that?” yeosang reached out and gently patted your shoulder, as if to comfort you. “y/n, i love you, you know i do, but it’s kind of obvious. you’re kind of shit at hiding your feelings. even i can tell, and i’m the muse of comedy!” 

“he’s right, you know.” you turned to glare at the source of the voice. seonghwa was leaning against one of the white pillars that surrounded the outside of the library, golden eyes practically sparkling in the warm sun. “not you too, hwa.” aforementioned muse shot you a sheepish smile. “sorry, y/n, but it’s honestly undeniable at this point.” “but i’ve only known him for a few months!” seonghwa shrugged, pushing off the pillar with a sandaled foot, making his way over to the center of the room. “so? love is a funny thing, you know. you can realize you’re in love with someone in a short span of time, it’s not unheard of.” the love poetry muse plopped down on the chair next to you, hastily tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. 

“how you long were you standing there?” “not long. i was just passing by and happened to overhear your conversation.” “where are the others?” “they’re in the garden, doing gods knows what.” “is hongjoong with them?” seonghwa nodded. “yeah, but he’s probably making a flower crown and purposefully ignoring wooyoung and san’s antics.” “but, jongho is there, and he scares the shit out of those two, for whatever reason, so i trust that he’ll keep an eye on them while i’m gone.” 

yeosang huffed a laugh, picking up one of the discarded scrolls on the table, lavender eyes scanning the contents curiously. “so, what are you doing here?” “i needed a break from san and wooyoung, and well, i thought that, since i’m here, i can look for some inspiration for poems. like hongjoong mentioned, i’ve been having terrible writers’ block recently.” 

“do you want help? i’m not doing much today anyway.” seonghwa’s expression practically lit up. “you would do that? it’s not going to be a lot of fun, though.” you shook your head. “i love looking through scrolls, gives me an excuse to read.” “want to join us, yeosang?” said muse in questions shook his head. “i’d love to, but i have some errands to run. i’ll see you two later at the garden?” you nodded and waved him goodbye, smiling fondly as the blond male rushed off. 

“he was lying, wasn’t he?” seonghwa asked, an amused smile on his face as he scanned the massive shelves that took up a quarter of the other side of the library. you chuckled. “definitely.” 

hongjoong rolled his eyes fondly at the sight before him. jongho, wooyoung, and san were in a heated debate about which olympian god was the best, of all things. he sighed in exasperation and turned back to the flower crown he’d been working on for hours now, ignoring wooyoung’s petulant cries. it was nearly done, and all he had to do was string one more flower together. hongjoong furrowed his brows in concentration as he wove the last flower together, sighing in relief when it stayed intact after he’d finished tying it off. he’d always loved making flower crowns, as it was something that calmed him after a particularly difficult day, or when lyrics for a song just wouldn’t come to him immediately like they normally did. weaving flower crowns often made his anxiety and worries dissipate like smoke. the others often teased him for it, but their words never had any bad intent behind them.  he had been mocked for his favorite hobby in the past, and hongjoong was glad that he finally found people, a family, who accepted him for who he was, flower crowns and all. 

hongjoong hummed softly to himself, placing the finished flower crown onto his head, making sure it was secure, and laid back onto the soft green grass, letting the cool night air wash over him. he didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he felt someone shake his shoulder gently. “joong?” hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open slowly, and seonghwa was next to him, golden eyes twinkling with amusement. “did you fall asleep again?” hongjoong blushed as he slowly sat up, adjusting the crooked flower crown on his head. “n-no.” 

seonghwa rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond as he helped hongjoong to his feet. the former led him to a more secluded part of the garden, where the rest of their friends were waiting, gathered around a table of fruit and bread.

you waved at hongjoong, a sheepish smile on your face as he drew near with seonghwa. “it’s not much, and i know it’s not quail eggs or anything luxurious, but i thought i’d try and prepare something nice for once, since all of you have done so much for me.” wooyoung shook his head and pushed past san, bounding forward and throwing his arms around you, hugging you tight. “don’t say that, y/n! this is more than enough! and you really didn’t have to do this! you already do enough just by tolerating us.” you huffed a laugh, wrapping your arms around the muse of dance. “you guys are too kind to me.” 

“we love you, and you know that you’re like a sister to us. you never have to do anything for us.” “i wanted to, though.” “yes, and we appreciate it a lot, so don't you dare say it’s not anything special.” yunho declared from behind san, light green eyes bright with happiness. you fought back the happy tears that were threatening to spill and smiled. i love you all.” “aww, we love you too!! group hug!!!!” yunho shouted. a few seconds later, you were being squeezed tightly by seven muses, and you had never felt so loved in your entire life, which made you feel even more guilty for what you were about to do. 

after a light dinner of fruit and bread, you found yourself laying on the soft green grass of the garden that you now considered your safe place, surrounded by seven muses, staring up at the midnight blue sky, stars like tiny specks from afar. the night air was crisp and cool, and you allowed yourself a smile, leaning your head against seonghwa’s shoulder, who immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently. stargazing had become a daily thing after hongjoong had first suggested it after a practically exhausting day of work, and you had come to love it. 

suddenly, you felt a wave of sadness crash over you, and before you knew it, you were being pulled into a warm and firm chest, strong arms wrapping around you, comforting circles being rubbed on your back. “y/n, what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked, and you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was extremely worried. you didn’t answer, burying your face into seonghwa’s chest, feeling your heart ache with immense guilt. “i-i’m s-sorry.” you choked out, voice shaking. “darling, what could you possibly be sorry for? you’ve done nothing wrong.” you shook your head, reluctantly pulling away from seonghwa’s warm embrace, refusing to look any of your friends in the eye, instead focusing on a blade of grass. 

“i really don’t deserve to have you all in my life, and i am the shittiest person in the world. i-i lied to you all.” “about what?” you closed your eyes, turning away from the people you never deserved to call your friends. “about how i met mingi. it wasn’t a coincidence. it was all on purpose.” 

“what? what are you talking about, y/n?” yunho asked, and your heart broke at how confused he sounded. “hades.” you mumbled, voice barely audible, but you knew they heard you, from the way the tension in the air seemed to thicken. “what about hades?” seonghwa asked, voice deadly calm. “d-do you remember my past lover?” “the one that broke your heart into pieces? we’re familiar with him, why?” san asked, clear disgust in his tone. you fought back tears as you forced the words to come out. 

“w-when he died, i was so heartbroken and desperate for happiness that hades appeared to me and he offered me a deal, which was that if he would bring him back, only if i agreed to sell my soul to him and become his servant. and then, he wanted me to make mingi fall in love with me in order to discover his weakness. hades wants to kill him. i wouldn’t have agreed, but he then threatened to hurt all of you, and i- i c-couldn’t let that happen so i-” 

you couldn’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, and felt your knees give out from under you, your pale blue chiton billowing around you as you fell. you didn’t dare open your eyes, as you couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces. to your surprise, you felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you tight. you felt your eyes flutter open due to shock, and tears practically leaked out of your eyes. 

your friends, no, your family, were gathered around you, hugging you tight. san looked up at you, violet eyes glimmering with tears, smiling sadly. wooyoung, lips quivering, reached out and wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb. seonghwa had his face buried in your shoulder, crying softly, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing tightly. hongjoong was curled up  in your lap like a child,small hands gripping the fabric of your chiton, trembling as he cried. yeosang had his lips pursed tightly as he placed a gentle hand on your head, fighting back tears. jongho and yunho were both a mess, swollen eyes and flushed cheeks, resting their heads on each other’s shoulders. 

“h-how can you all forgive me? how can you all stand to even look at me?” “we could never hate you.” “b-but-” “you’ve gone through so much, darling, and you grieved in your own way. if i was you, i would’ve probably been desperate enough to do the same.” “i really don’t deserve to be forgiven.” that earned you a light shove to the shoulder. “shush, don’t say that. you could lie to us a thousand times over and we would still love you just as much as we do now.” you allowed yourself a soft, sad laugh as you buried your face in the crook of san’s neck and cried happy tears. 

after your shocking revelation and the tears had subsided, you lay back down on the grass with your head resting on san’s lap, letting him play with strands of your hair, while the others were curled up next to you. “thank you.” you whispered. “no need to thank us. just promise us that you won’t keep stuff like that from us again.” you nodded. “is anything going to happen to you?” “probably, you never know with hades.” “we’ll protect you.” you smiled sadly. “i know you all want to, but hades is too powerful. i don’t want any of you getting hurt.” “y/n, we would never be able to live with ourselves if anything happened to you!” hongjoong exclaimed, chestnut eyes glimmering with determination. “the same goes for me, if anything happened to any of you, i would never be able to forgive myself.” “don’t worry, y/n, we’ll figure out a way to protect you.” san reassured you, ruffling your hair affectionately. you returned his smile, but deep down, you weren’t so sure if that was possible. 

➳ a/n: this was part one, and i hope you all enjoyed this! let me know if you have any suggestions for the sequel! this was so much fun to write! what do you think will happen in the sequel? let me know your predictions! 

tagging: @deonghwa​ @subinily​ @hwacinth-main​ (ily all MWAH)

[siremasterlawrence]

Thor’s Articles Of Possession Part 2

Thor Odison freaking out beyond his own control.

Laughing out loud he tackles a group of his loyal followers.

His mind is breaking so fast he has no idea when he hit his bedroom.

The massive beauty of Asgardian Magic is quite actively shifting.

The room terraforms in to the palace itself as the rooms become walls expansion non stop.

The palace it’s explodes in to a rainbow of multicolor dust.

Asgard teleports out of its time of spacial time under my domain.

Thor cannot believe his eyes as his warrior armor bulks up.

The amor breaks out bulking into unknown muscular tone.

Somewhere in the midst of a gigantic forest area New Asgard is firmly planted.

Earth is transforming in to a beautiful botanic garden.

The grass grows reforming the world totally in to a garden of eden.

Soon every member of Asgard, earth and the rest of nine realms.

New Thor snaps a mirror in to existence as it pushes upward.

Finally, the gigantic mirror stands tall and matches Thors heights.

What a wonderful sight it is to see Thor now stark naked in all his beauty .

His neck immediately stretching to match his wide shoulders.

His height skyrocketing to the roof, and his muscles rippling to odd shapes.

His body now befitting of god Thor is so enchanted with himself.

Can’t stop his eyes from continuing to check himself over and over again.

“By the gods.” His mouth moves working it like a kid meeting a starlet.

Eyes widen just to see the mirror moving on its own.

The man in the mirror a doppelgänger of Thor but not him.

“Who are you?” Thor questions confusing himself.

“The real Thor.”

“Thee are a liar, I am Thor.”

“Same body punk ass.”

“Need not worry my friend.”

“I will make thy a worthy Thor indeed.”

“Mwahahahahahahahahaha”

“Noooooooooo”

“Stop you fiend.”

“Or what?”

“I-I-I thought so”

Thor blacks out as his mind completely erases.

“So much better this way.”

“Don’t you think?”

A multiverse of slaves rush from through out the broken realities.

They kneel covering the entire earth or rather New Asgard every inch.

All could ask is praise, worship, lick, suck and kiss my every nook and cranny.

The end.