#so hes just got the clothes / first mate garb on his back
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
had a dream about pirates but not about my pirate characters.. so i guess i have new pirate characters now
#dream was mostly following the first mate#who was a non op/non transitioned trans man#and the crew was totally fine and respectful of it#but others were Not#i dont remember how but they lost access to their ship and were grtting ready to catch a ride on a train to the next city/port#but the people running the train were like YOU need to sleep down w the rest of the girls#the captain wanted to square up for his first mate but he was like its fine its temporary just let it go#the women were like um this isnt where you sleep ? youre a man ? and hes like dont worry ladies i will be keeping to myself#but i DO need a bunk in the meanwhile so whos sharing#(he is very very handsome so there were eager volunteers)#also he (along w a lot of the lirate crew) had like. all of his things stolen#so hes just got the clothes / first mate garb on his back#also hes bisexual and speaks french#there was a moment in the dream where he noticed a frenchman too nervous to shoot his shot w a girl#and he was like ah well you know. i am not very impressive to women... down there#and the first mate was like dont worry man i assure you plenty of women love a man w a small dick#it was a nice convo and also all in french which is so weird i dont think ive dreamed in french before#i also remember him saying about the sleeping arrangements something like. well. dont blame me for#me for the consequences of putting a cock in the henhouse#he was just extremely cool and blase. he knows who he is and his crew knows who he is and that was enough for him#op#also i think the captain has a crush on his first mate
1 note
·
View note
Text
Drama Queen (Eris Week day 4) [Hounds]
Eris x Reader
Summary: You and Eris walk the hounds through the morning autumn sun
cw: nothing, except my attempt at sweet fluff and Eris being cheeky
This is the first tumblr week I've participated in. Of course it's for Daddy Vanserra, The Lord of Fire himself. Thank you @erisweekofficial ❤️🔥 🖤
Warm Autumn morning sunlight freckles your eyelids. Peppering solar kisses though the forest green curtains. Peeking open one eye, you're graced with the tall stoic form of your mate. Your husband, getting ready for his day. Most likey another day or long meetings, getting off on other high lords irritation, and political foreplay. Eris's bread and butter.
Lila, the hound Eris gifted you for your birthday, jumps onto the bed wagging her tail. This was the daily routine. Eris wakes up early, takes the hounds for a walk, does courtly matters, and would join you for the evening walk.
But right now, it was almost as if Helion himself was teasing your mate. Through crusted eyes, you feel nothing short of adoration as the High Lord of Day sprinkles orange rays across Eris's irridencent skin, enhancing his splattered brown flecks. The morning light engulfs him, mixing with his rich copper strands, casting him into an etherial vision of flame. The High Lord of Autumn. The High Lord of Fire. Eris Vanserra. Your mate.
Eris slides on his riding pants, squeezing his muscular legs into the tight fabric. Still shirtless, still glowing. "Come back to bed" your morning words rasping out of your mouth.
"I have to take the dogs out Princess. I'll be back before you know it." Kissing the top of your bedhead, Eris leaves. Maple burbon, nutmeg, and pumpkin linger in the distance he created between you.
You must have dozed off encased in your husbands scent. The smell of warm cinnamon and bacon taking it's place.
Rubbing your eyes, you assess the picture before you. Same orange lighting, Eris is the same riding pants and tunic... very different from his High Lord garb. Still ever as beautiful and full of detail.
"You could make a trash bag the next biggest trend."
Clutching at his chest, feigning pain, "I thought these pants made my legs look good."
Tossing a pillow towards him you laugh, "you're so dramatic"
"Say's the one who just threw a pillow at her loving, handsome, powerful, strong, big, thick-"
"Eris!" smacking his arm but careful not to spill any of the food or juice as he places the tray over your lap. "What time is it?"
Whatever he said was drowned out by the decidant hug of sugary cinnamon pancakes, covered in maple syrup, fresh fruit, and fresh whipped cream. A unabashful moan slipped past your ears, "Chef put a little extra soul into the flavors today. Remind me to thank him."
A sly grin slid onto Eris's lips, accompanied with his signature chuckle, "Chef didn't make it little fox." Sitting down on his side of the bed, he grabs a slice of bacon off the plate. "I did"
"Er!" Looking over to your handsome mate, long, layered, blazing hair cascading over his shoulders and chest like an angel. "See you can be nice" you wink as you take another bite.
Hand to his heart "You wound me my love. I've only ever been kind while I tease you daily."
"And you're usually a good boy, taking what I give you"
"I.. you got me there Princess." Kissing your cheeks, Eris gets off the bed and heads towards your closet. Pulling a pair of riding pants and a tunic he lays them on the edge of the bed. "When you're done eating you should come walk the hounds with me. Autumn is beautiful in the morning light. It would be even more beautiful with my light there beside me"
"Dont you have meetings to attend Mr High Lord?"
"Not today. I know I've been working a lot and I wanted to take time to be with my needy mate-" walking over to the full length mirror, Eris starts admiring himself, making insignificant adjustments to his hair and clothes. As if he could ever look bad. "But I can't blame you. Look at me. Even if I didn't have flames coursing through my veins I'd still be a fire hazard."
"So dramatic"
You've always loved autumn. An array of warm colors fill the trees. The scent of campfires and cinnamon. The sound of crunching leaves. If it wasn't for Eris you may have tried to wed the autumnal season itself.
Being the night owl you were, it wasn't often you got the see the court in the glory of the morning light. But dang it, Eris was right. There was just something extra magical in the way the gold and browns woke up. Almost like a glitter shaking awake all life.
Lila ran ahead to chase a couple of the puppies. You loved days like this. Picking up a good stick you throw it across the field for a few of the older hounds to run after. Dew covered leaves crinkle under their paws. A symphony of joyous barks flood the early autumn air.
"They love you, you know"
"Of course they do. I'm the one who feeds them while you ignore your children for meetings." Teasing him and you throw the stick again. This time gaining the attention of a couple of the smaller puppies.
"They're protective over you. Especially Hunt, and he tolerates me at best." On cue, and like the good hunting hound he is, Hunt srides over in long luxurious prances. Ever as dramatic as his father.
"Maybe that's because you two are too similar." You bend over to give the good boy ear rubs. Relaxing the pack leader into your touch. He licks your hands a few times, which you return with a boop to his nose. He may be a well trained hunting hound, but he will always be a puppy at heart.
"As if you're any different"
The sun in your face, sparkling across your skin, eyes twinkling... How could he not fall in love all over again.
From the moment you two met you had Eris captivated. Someone who can match his heat, spark his flame, humble him. It was you who made him a better male. Who gave him the hope needed to restore the court and be the male his father could never be. The male his father tried brutally for centries to beat out of him. You were his angel, his princess, his saving grace- and he would burn the world for you. Strutting though his inferno runway.
Walking over to where you'd found leasure under a shaded maple tree, "You're so beautiful my love"
"You're love keeps me young." With a smirk, you pull him down to the ground. Tackling him into a pile of crimson and deep yellow leaves.
"You're getting leaves in my hair!" The High Lord of Autumn complaining about his nature coating him- ironic.
"Drama Queen."
"I'm a KING!" Puffing his chest out like a child.
"How long have you been practicing that line drama KING?"
"I will not allow myself to be subjected to such ill treatment of your Lord."
"Yet if you insist on being the King of Drama, that would make me YOUR Queen, sir."
"Touche, my love. I'll give you this round."
"What's my prize for outsassing the Sass Lord?"
"You want a prize? I thought I was prize enough-" Pulling you into his chest, Eris lips find your ear. Leaving little love bites down the length of your neck, "I can think of a few rewards."
"Mmm...I love you drama queen." Turning your head to crash your lips to his. Tasting his cinnamon breath against your tongue.
"You're a pain in my ass too little fox."
"Oh I can show you a pain in your ass...... where did I put that strap?"
#fluff#erisweek2024#our favorite dog dad#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris vandaddy#eris x reader#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#autumn
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
Barracuda
Back in his cell, Alex pulls out the package June had slipped to him during her visit. It consists of two things; a box of condoms. There’s 12 inside, if he’s lucky, he won’t have to ask her for more. The second item is a note.
Good luck
-J
He’s going to need it.
Alex takes one condom from the box, blushing as he examines the little foil square. He slips it into his pocket and hides the rest of the condoms, along with the note under his mattress.
Mason should still be with Jake, seeing his boyfriend (Jake always seemed more like Mason’s plaything than his lover, but whatever) off. Jake was being released today, and Alex had plans to take his place.
Looking at the clock, Alex guesses he has maybe a half hour before Mason gets back. He needs to act quickly. He grabs some clean clothes and a towel.
Thankfully, the showers are empty when Alex arrives. He undressed and goes to the shower in the furthest corner from the door, praying nobody comes in.
He washes up, mentally preparing himself for tonight. It’s not at all how he wants to lose his virginity, but that’s all he has left to lose so…fuck it.
He takes his time washing, drying off, and dressing. His chest tightens with anxiety. A small part of his mine hopes that Mason would reject his offer and he wouldn’t have to go through with this. He forces that thought down.
Showing up to visitation with June and his family sporting a black eye had been mortifying. The saddened looks in their eyes had broken his heart. And that was the only injury the could see. There were dozens more hidden under his prison garb.
“It’s just sex,” Alex whispers to himself. “People have sex all the time, how bad can it be?”
Just suck his cock and let him feel you up, and the others will leave you alone and you’ll be out of here before you know it.
When Alex gets back to the cell, Mason is there. The gang-leader is sitting on his bed reading a book.
“I need to talk to you,” Alex says. Mason raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look up.
“I thought I told you not to talk to me,” he says bluntly.
“It’s important,” Alex says, stepping closer to Mason and sounding more desperate than he’d like to. “I want to make an offer with you.”
“What could you possibly offer that I’d want?”
“My body.”
That gets Mason’s attention. He closes his book and places it on their shared nightstand. He looks up at Alex, smirking, making the younger boy even more nervous than he’d already been.
“I noticed Jake left,” Alex starts,
“He was released today, yes,” Mason confirms. “Tragic, he was fun to play with but what can you do?” He doesn’t seem too upset though. Clearly Jason was not the love of his life. “I’m not gay by the way. I don’t like guys, but we’re surrounded by them and well, some of us have needs.”
Alex nods, listening.
“I will admit, you’re almost as pretty as a girl,” Mason winks. It sends chills down Alex’s spine.
“You’ll be needing someone new to replace him then?” Alex asks. “What if I replace him?”
Mason says nothing, just stares. Alex is burning with humiliation. Having just asked to essentially be this dangerous person’s sex slave sure can do that to a person.
“And what do you want in return?” Mason asks. “Surely you’re not offering to relieve my urges out of the kindness of your heart?”
“Your protection,” Alex says. “If I’m with you, the others-they’ll leave me alone. I know you know what’s been happening.”
Mason does know, he’s witnessed some of the incidents. His cell mate being jumped in the yard, groped in the hallways, denied food at mealtimes. He can’t say he’s too surprised by the offer. It isn’t the first time it’s happened.
“So you get free use of my body, I’ll do anything you want, but in exchange, protect me from harm,” Alex asks again.
“It’s not going to be easy, you know,” Mason finally stands. He’s got a few inches on Alex. “Being my pet. I’ll make you work for that protection you want.”
“That’s fine,” Alex hates the way his voice shakes. “I’ll do anything.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the condom, presents it to Mason.
Mason bursts out laughing.
“I see you came prepared,” he laughs, taking the condom.
Somehow, Alex feels his anxiety lessen. He got Mason to laugh. That’s a good thing right? Maybe he had it all wrong and Mason isn’t such a bad guy after all?
“Take off your clothes,” Mason interrupts his thoughts. “Now.”
Blushing hard, Alex does as he’s told, unbuttoning his prison jumpsuit as Mason watches, eyes boring into him. He tosses it in the general direction of his own bed and pauses, standing in his boxers and tank top.
“All of it.”
Alex grabs the hem of his undershirt and pulls the garment up over his head. The tank top joins his jumpsuit somewhere on his side of the cell and Alex squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as his fingers brush the waistband of his boxers.
“I don’t have all-“
Alex pushes his underwear to his feet and throws it with the rest of his clothes. He wants to cover himself up with his hands and arms but doesn’t.
Mason looks his body up and down, taking in the view. He cups Alex’s cheek and leans in close.
“I accept your offer.” Alex wants to cry in relief. “No one will hurt you.”
Mason then grabs a handful of Alex’s hair and shoves him onto his bed. It happens so fast, Alex can only yelp in surprise.
“Well, except for me.”
Alex turns onto his back and sees Mason undressing. The older boy leaves his own undershirt on though, further adding to the power imbalance.
Mason pounces on to Alex and straddles him, immediately going for his neck where he bites down - hard.
Alex stares at the ceiling and feels himself dissociating as Mason leaves bite marks and hickeys all over his body, his neck, his chest, his inner thighs. Mason flips Alex onto his stomach and bites down on his ass cheek.
Alex thinks he hears Mason say something. Something about wanting to be inside already. He hears the sound of foil crinkling and then he’s brought out of his trance by a sharp pain in his backside.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. So much so that he lets out a scream. A hand clamps over his mouth, pulling away only to stuff something inside. Alex realizes Mason had retrieved his tank top from its landing spot, balled it up, and shoved it into his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” Mason growls. “Did you forget where we are, you idiot? We have to be quiet or we’ll get caught. So pull that shit again and the deal is off and I’ll lock you out of the cell naked,” Mason whispers and Alex’s eyes fill up with tears. “I’m sure the other guys would love to have you and I have no problem handing you over.”
“I’m sorry,” it comes out muffled but Mason understands him. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Good pet. Let’s try this again, shall we?”
The pain is still excruciating as Mason enters him. The last thing he remembers thinking is ‘maybe I fucked up.’
———
When Alex wakes up, he’s in bed. Groggy, he sits up, realizes he’s still nude. Something feels wet between his legs and peaking under the blanket, he sees blood running down his thighs. Something on his face feels half dry and crusted over and he has an idea of what it is.
He turns to see Mason sitting on his own bed, watching him.
“For a virgin, you weren’t too bad,” Mason says. “I‘ll be looking forward to our arrangement.”
“Yeah,” Alex mutters, turning on his side, facing away from Mason.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Claws of Carnality | jjk (5)
Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader
Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au
Rating: 18+ / nsfw
Word Count: 8.7k we really out here getting longer with every chapter because a bitch is hungry
Summary: Privation looms lingeringly without your mate of whom hunts for you deep within the wood. In his absence, he still manages to fill the void even if it is only ephemeral. The sun watches while you fall prey to your desirous natures and it is only when the golden orb has begun to drip lower along the sky’s body that it is time for you to then be guided by the hands of other omegeans to prepare you for your mate upon his return even when no one yet knows, beyond you, who has already staked his claim on you. When the call of your alpha announces his incoming arrival through the forest beyond, that’s when you heed his howl and go to welcome him home, but what will you find when you get there?
Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scent marking, scenting, fingering, begging, praise kink, female masturbation, cunnilingus, breeding/impreg kink, character injury (someone gets hurt, but it isn’t serious)
A/N: My fingers are literally sore from writing so much. This one got pumped out in like a day and I’m honestly a clown because we really out here going from 1.5k with the first chapter all the way to 8.7k for chapter five. I think my hands are still shaking as I write this, but hey, this beast is finally out of the cage of my mind like it wanted to be! Seriously, this one did take some hours of sleep out of me in its need to be written, so please feed my soul and let me know that all this effort was deserving of the lack of sleep in the midst of it being midterm week at my university.
You guys have been so freaking sweet with your kind messages so far and I really am floored at how everyone seems to be enjoying this story, so please keep that up, y’all! I hope that I did justice to everything that has been written so far and more than anything, I hope to have been able to please you all with this next installment. Now, without further ado, I give to you part five of COC!
Part 9 Part 8 Part 7 Part 6 Part 4 Part 3 Part 2 Part 1
Feebleness fleetingly finds you under its clutches while it grasps you within the boscage of the woodlands.
It is commanded by the titillating tendrils of your alpha’s spiced scent and your fingers tug tightly around the fine furs without thought as you stare longingly at the mound of vestments that Jungkook had so torturously left in his wake, a whine releasing itself from the bowels of your body as you try to stand on dangerously debilitated ligaments that are still too weak to bear your weight after the satori that has swayed your entire being.
Too distracted in the pheromones of him that wrap yearningly around you, you don’t remember to pick up the abandoned silken necklace that your alpha had wantonly pulled off and away from you as your wobbling knees bring you to the forsaken garb he’d peeled so salaciously from his beautiful body.
Next to it are the shredded, tattered remains of the trousers he’d been wearing and, distantly, you wonder how many pairs he has ruined in the past through the multitudinous shifts he must have gone through as a purebred alpha that must have been so prone to surrender to his wolf and trade his human feet for the paws of his beast.
Your wolf bays at you to pick both up in the need to keep as much of him near to you as you can and, with embers in your mind burning only for him that are stoked by his redolence, you heed it as your knees buckle when you bend with effort to grab them.
Belatedly, it occurs to you that your alpha had not brought an alternative change of clothes given the state of his wrecked attire.
As you slowly run your fingers reminiscently over the destroyed fabric, there’s a thought that pushes at your conscience between a pair of golden irises that flash commandingly at you and through the smoke that hazes your mind, you remember what he’d told you.
“I expect my mate to be waiting for me before I let every wolf in this fucking compound know that you’re mine when I claim you at the ceremony tonight.”
The words melt away at your insides in the clear claim that they heat you with and you really can’t help it when you bring both articles that had adorned him close to your chest as you turn to tread through the woodland back from whence you came as your cheeks run hot with realization.
Your alpha would anticipatedly await you to receive him back from the hunt he was to lead in your honor.
He wanted you to be there to welcome him over all of the other bitches in the pack and, like the dutifully loyal omega you were meant to be, your mind had already set into its stone that you would later return to the greenwood upon the sun’s setting when all the alphas would rightfully reemerge from the forest’s foliage so that you could greet your own.
You would do so with open arms that would bear not only your warmly joyous touch, but also the mended clothing he’d damaged to hunt for you that would serve to preserve the modesty that he intended only to show to the pack. Beyond closed doors, you wanted him to shred it all only for you.
Beyond all of that, though, there’s the searing flame of possession that your wolf finds its rump sat firmly against in the calefaction of the emotion that is ablaze within you and you find that you’re willing to fuel it into a wildfire so that everyone will know that your alpha belongs to you should he wear the restored vestments that you would effortfully stitch back up with the hands that longed to caress and find themselves over his perfect aureate skin.
These are what have you promptly turn to leave with the flutter of bird’s wings beating against your bosom as you amble along in obliviousness to the pair of lupine eyes that observe you protectively in the distance.
It is only when you walk so far into the rays of the reaching sun that even your striking silhouette can no longer be beheld by them that their owner whirls around, his ears flicking toward the clang of antlers that must belong to two rearing bucks some ways off and without a moment to lose, he’s gone in the rush of the autumn leaves.
Lost in the sea of pheromones that wash over you as the spray of them pools around you while you press your nose greedily into his garment, you pay no mind to the mated alphas or betas walking about at the early hour.
What does demand your attention, however, is the sudden onset of sharp, panging pains that, with every step and breathe you take, sink their teeth deeper within the soft skin of your belly, a whimper caught in the fabric your mouth is held against as a vicious torrent of feverishness has your body temperature begin to lower without the warmth of your alpha as a vicious headache starts to pound against your cranium.
In the midst of it, your own musk pungently pervades the air only to draw the eyes of unwanted wolves to your sweet smell that is enhanced due to the starting symptoms that have already set your body off in the absence of your alpha that it pines for.
It is only when you manage to close the door to your chambers behind you, with your alpha’s clothes covetously pressed against your nose as if drunk on his ambrosial taste, that you shirk Jungkook’s furs from your body to throw them on your bed as your wolf yaps insistently to nest amongst the pelt until the scent clinging to it has rooted itself to your cot so that no part of it has gone unseeded by your alpha.
Once you’re satisfied with the assortment of dips and ripples of the blackened blanket of pelts that cover your duvet in its entirety, that’s when you lay down to nestle the furs, your baser being demanding that you lather yourself in its savory smell that you wish to soak in until you reek of your alpha.
The soft, downy pelage of the pelt caresses you against your exposed calves so very tenderly and, abruptly, the dress you wear is far too rough as it grazes against your skin in your movements as you quickly divest yourself of it. Somewhere in your maneuvers to take it off, your legs rub against each other only for you to widen both eyes at the sight that greets you.
There’s slick that all but drips from your sex and it glistens along your thighs in the thick coating that marks you there and you suck in a breath as you ascertain the afflictions your body has been wracked with.
You’ve just gone into the pre-heat acutely accompanied by a fever that every omega has intermittent interludes of upon finding their alpha.
As if to remind you of this, a sudden shiver falls over your skin in the frosted frigidity that freezes the air around you in how cold your boudoir has just become under your steadily decreasing internal temperature.
Without the physical comfort of your alpha, you whine, your fingers finding his garment that you’d thrown on the bed beside his furs to quickly lay it atop your bare bosom, your nipples hardening against the flocculent material that is softer than satin as it brushes against the sensitive buds deliciously.
You sigh shakily in satisfaction as the cloth along your chest coaxes your skin with its gentle warmth through its fibrous fingers while his furs embrace you as you silently thank your alpha for leaving such giving gifts behind to smoothly soothe you in his absence.
Your moment of respite is short lived, however, when an edged twinge of a cramp bites low into your abdomen as you grimace in pain, a fresh accretion of your juices finding your folds as you cry out the only name that could ever hope to free you from such sensations.
“Jungkook,” his name is whispered from your lips, an irrational need setting itself alight within you as the picture of your alpha half nude from the forest flashes provocatively through your mind.
He’d been so profoundly pulchritudinous under the morning rays and, with those dark eyes and wet mouth that had been so eager to welcome you to him, he’d only allured you more to him between his words of letch that had left you so parched after him. You can still imagine the way his hot tongue had laved at you, can still feel the deep press of his digit that had pushed down wantonly within your own lips as you’d sucked at it like a newborn calf.
His finger had been so obscenely long while his hands had been so lewdly lined with veins over the bones that bore so much strength and you wonder how those digits would have felt deep within your velvet depths while you ponder what those lustful lips of his would do to you if they found their rightful place along your neck. You cogitate how well his defined, chiseled body would fit against yours while he’d drive his cock without abandon into the silken home of your pussy while he’d utter lascivious indecencies to you born out of lubriciousness for you.
All of this has your hand sliding down your body without pause, your eyes closing as new need begins to burn hotly within your system in longing for your alpha.
Your fingers find your neglected bud of nerves while you imagine that it is him that stands before the legs that you spread without hesitation for him as hunger flares behind golden rises that sear cravingly into you. You envision that it is him that commands you to taint yourself this way as you breathe in the igniting incense of him that has the flint of desire smoke profusely with the heat that simmers there as he clouds your mind until there is nothing but him that lingers there.
“Touch yourself for me, pretty,” his hazily hallucinated voice demands within your mind.
Helpless to deny him even in your fantasy, you obey in the want to please him even within the imaginary realm your head concocts of him. Your brows pull together in concentration as a ring finger slips between your saturated sex to collect the slick that accumulates there before finding its place atop the neglected bundle of nerves that have been ineffective for years in relieving you of your deep desire that has only ultimately and uncontrollably grown throughout your years without the aid of the alpha that you belonged to.
Upon the first glide of a middle finger over your clit, you moan, your other hand closing compactly around the bed of furs beneath you as you envision that pink tongue of his darting delectably from his mouth to lick at his lips as he stares raptly at you before uttering,” Come on, my omega. Show me how those tiny fingers try to sate that pretty cunt that only your alpha could ever satisfy,” you imagine that he leans over you to plant two hands on either side of your hips as he sniffs, his eyes rolling back at your musk as he burrs, “Let me see how you’ve tried to give yourself the pleasure that can only be granted by the alpha you were made for, pretty.”
You shakily sigh in response in the thirst that implores the sustenance of him through another deposit of slick as one finger begins to slowly stroke your clit while your other dips between your generously wetted folds to circle and prod at the hole that woefully weeps its essence in the denial of what it craves most.
Helpless in the inability to disobey him, one digit breaches your sopping entrance while your other streaks over the bundle of nerves crowning your womanhood in a figure-eight pattern as you throw your head back while imagining that it is his lips that find your neck to leave behind marks that brand you as his.
“Gods, yes, alpha...please,” You cry out, your digits inadequate next to the ones that have sinfully set your soul alight.
Your finger sinks easily into your wet sheath as you drive it back and forth before your pace inevitably quickens, your hips pitifully trying to chase the elusive hand of pleasure as they begin to gyrate atop the bed while your other hand latches tighter onto the furs beneath you.
You envision that the mouth you wish would claim you as his travels torturously down your body until he’s peering edaciously at your glistening sex, the squelching sounds that grow louder in your fastening ministrations only beckoning him further in the drenched deposit of slick that amplifies it.
You envisage that he brings one plump lip between his teeth as he stares like a starved man at you behind eyes that glint with appetite as he hums, “Mmm, look at that cunt crying for its alpha. You really are desperate for me, aren’t you, pretty?” He lowers himself down to his knees to give you a piercingly hungry glare, “Tell me what you want, my omega, and I may be merciful and give you the release you want so badly. Obey this- obey me -and I will bring you to your end that was only ever mine to give to you, pretty.”
Your fingers hasten their movements as you bear more force down and over your rapidly engorging clit, the digit that lodges itself needlingly inside you still not enough as you whimper out, “A-ah…please, alpha. I want your mouth on me. Give me your mouth, alpha.”
The desperation for him flares as you imagine the smirk born of amusement before he descends down to your folds that shine with the sheen of your slick that has made a mess of your thighs and the bed of furs beneath you. You watch as craving of the likes in which you’ve never endured settles heavily across your abdomen only to coil tightly when, with his eyes still locked on yours, his rapturous tongue licks a long, languid stripe across the delicate skin of your inner thigh only to cause you to bite down on your tongue in effort to trap the sound of sin that yearned to escape you in the fervid felicity of that alone.
You envision your alpha lapping unmercifully at you until the only wetness draped across your thighs is his leftover saliva, your back arching with each flick of his tongue against the sensitive skin as you whine in spite of his teasing.
“Is my mouth all that you desire, pretty? I could do so much more to you with my fingers. I could fuck you so well with just my hands,” your alpha muses as one digit prods at your entrance unmercifully in the way that it nudges itself back and forth between the folds of your sex as you gasp out. It’s when he extricates it from you, with your juices still soiling his finger, that he takes it into his mouth as he groans only to have you throw your arm over your face as redness sweeps over your cheeks as you pule.
Your alpha releases his digit from his mouth with a ‘pop’ as heat winds you up when he urges, “Beg for me, my omega. Only then will I give you more. I want to see how much you need me.”
The words fall easier than the waters from a river as you visualize him smirking knowingly as he dangles your pleasure before you like bait on his hook as you babble, “Want your fingers, too, alpha. I want you to fill me up with them until I’m so full of you that I can’t think anymore. Please, Jungkook.”
Without warning, two fingers push pleasantly inside you as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape while your alpha licks at his lips, entranced in the sight of his fingers disappearing into your sex before he brings them backward only to bury them deeply within you again without prelude. Hot breath is blown over your pussy as he separates his digits in a scissoring motion that has your walls contracting around him as you press your lips together in effort to stifle the sounds he so easily draws out of you.
It’s when he furls his fingers inside you in a perfect motion to have your toes curling that your body trembles in the sensation, your alpha noticing this as he utters, “Take it, pretty. I know you can. You’re being such an obedient girl for your alpha. I fucking love it.”
The praise has you preening as you pant and when his tongue flattens over your womanhood to trail tortuously up so that no part of you is left untouched by him, that’s when you keen.
“Gods, you are so fucking delicious on my tongue. I could do this forever and never tire of your flavor, my omega,” you imagine that he replaces his hand with yours only to cause you to writhe when two fingers circle over your clit unrelentingly while he gives a light, chaste kiss to the innermost part of your left leg before, with lips still coated in your essence, he croons, “Because you’ve been so good in allowing your alpha to taste you, I will give you your reward, yeah?”
You hardly have time to think on the words he feeds you with before his lips are planted over your vulva, the wet muscle attached to the bottom his mouth sweeping along your slit while his thumb whorls over the bundle of nerves as his nose brushes against your clitoral hood to cause you to cry out.
“Alpha, please,“ Your voice waters down into a mewl as you envisage that Jungkook, without warning, pushes his tongue so far inside you that your eyes roll to the back of your head with a stuttered sound.
You envision that you can feel the way he grins knowingly as he watches you fall apart on him, his eyes narrowing heatedly as he plunges the appendage damningly with you as he utters, “That’s right, pretty. Call out the name of the only one who can make you feel this good. Gods, you’re so beautiful all spread out and bare for me just like you were always meant to be. Fuck, pretty.”
You do as he says, stammering out his name in labored breaths as you imagine that he thrusts his tongue into you without fail as the tip of it perfectly hits the cluster of nerves buried deep within you over and over again. Soon, your walls begin to clench tellingly around him and by this point, your knuckles have gone white with how tight you grasp the furs in the hand that you’re not using to sinfully stimulate all of this.
When you envisage that it is his fingers that splay possessively over one breast only to fondle it amongst digits that twiddle your nipple between them while he looks at you with a hooded gaze darkened only with the most carnal of desires, that’s when the coil of craving within you constricts as your alpha rasps, “You’re close, aren’t you, pretty? Fuck, when I take you, I can’t even imagine how you’re going to feel around my knot,” the last word has your walls closing threateningly around him as you moan out in the need your wolf bays at to be filled fully and completely by the only cock that you want to impel itself in your silken sheath and in response, he hisses, “What, you like that? You want my knot, pretty? You want to be bred until you’re swollen and round with my pups? Is that it, my omega?”
You nod, too far gone into your indecent illusion to care anymore as your back bows when he sucks your sex between his lips as you drawl, “Yes, alpha. Please, give it to me.”
There’s a devastating chuckle between your legs that has you trembling in anticipation and when the digits of his fingers roll your nipple between them as if he’s done this thousands of times before as he pairs it with an especially fatal propulsion of his tongue that strikes your g-spot so piercingly that it has your body convulse dangerously around it. It is only when you’re squirming that your alpha’s all-consuming irises flash commandingly as he growls, “You’ll get your fucking pups out of me only if you yield to your alpha,” he says with the eternal flames of voracity blazing through golden rises that devour you whole as he eats you like a deprived man while he professes,” Surrender to me, pretty. Submit to me and show me how bad you want your alpha.”
He pairs this with a catastrophic swipe of his tongue once, twice and three more times before you’re throwing your head back in blissful pleasure as you fall hopelessly apart while you plummet into your end that wracks you to a writhing mess atop soiled furs while your walls flutter fiercely around the two fingers you had unknowingly undulated against in your search for release.
When you extricate your digits from your body, a string of slick clings to your fingers and, longingly, you wish that it wasn’t your essence on your hand, but instead that of your mate’s.
Only your labored breaths break the silence that sets in the aftermath of your indecent deeds, your muscles aching from the awakening of new ones that have not been in use before amongst the old that have been afflicted after the strenuous strain that your alpha had wrought on your body.
It takes a few minutes to come down from your high and your headache is furiously fast in reemerging once the remnants of your climax have faded as you groan in effort to sit up. It is then that you notice the tattered trousers you’d neglected before in the ravenousness that had eaten away at you for your alpha and, with a new resolve that prickles past the prominent pounding of your head, you decide that now would be a good time to mend them so that you will have something to present to your alpha upon his return to the compound.
You stand on unstable legs that are beginning to become a familiarity to you in the wake of your alpha as you pull Jungkook’s garment over you and are completely content with the way the article of clothing covers your intimate parts as you fold it over your chest to tie it together with a silken cord that had been buried inside.
Finding your small sewing kit that you’d left abandoned in the corner of your chambers, you situate yourself along the cluster of plush pillows settled along the window seat as you set to work on fixing your alpha’s attire.
You try to mind your fingers that the needle had left you privy to numerously numbed fingers because of in the midst of the late hours of the night after stitching together the ripped remains of the clothing that the pups under your care would often tear with claws that protracted and retracted in the midst of their growing bodies.
It is a futile attempt, for the sharp spikes that shoot through your digits inflict themselves in you anyway. Your attention is far too focused not on the article of clothing, but on the one who had worn it.
You wonder what he might be doing right now and if he’s been thinking about you as profusely-or lewdly, mind you- as you have been about him, your wolf wanting to howl for him to beckon him back as you longingly caress the shredded trousers while you pine for the warmth of his skin and the radiance of his smile.
Sometime later, there’s an abrupt series of knocks at your door and you smile as you fold your finished work and place it on the table next to your window seat before rising with anticipation that energetically bounds through you.
It was time for you to be prepared and groomed so that you could be received by the alpha that no one yet knew had already staked his claim on you. Every omega went through this period before their Offering Ceremony to heighten the chances of finding them a suitable mate.
The door opens and in leaps your best friend, Niva, who was mated last spring as she happily greets, “Y/N! Are you so excited? Your time is finally here, darling!”
You laugh jovially at her energy as you easily question with mirth, “Good to see you, too, Niva. I am, very much so. Is it just going to be you that has the privilege of getting me ready?”
She enfolds you in an all-encompassing embrace and you mirror the sentiment, for it is in omegean nature to be close-knit and seek the warm arms of the dynamic that is known for their nurturing, compassionate nature.
You wrap your arms around her, but upon your best friend getting one whiff of the heavy pheromones soured by sex in every crevasse of the room, her nose wrinkles as her face twists, “Ew, Y/N, did you seriously already get bedded on the day of your ceremony? It stinks in here. Your grandmother is not going to take kindly to this. You’re supposed to be pure, remember?”
You stand back with a smile lifting at your lips, “I know very well, Niva. Have you considered,” you lift a brow, “that perhaps I am still the virgin you always like to mess with me about being and maybe that there’s an alpha who might have given me his furs so that I could have some kind of relief in his absence?”
Your best friend’s eyes widen in surprise, but that is soon replaced with a knowing glint of mischievousness in one eye as she takes in the visage of your disheveled appearance amidst the only article of clothing that is entirely too large in how it dwarfs your much smaller body as she queries, “Judging by the smell, whoever it is must be quite an alpha based on how strongly your room reeks of him. Judging by how that excuse for a shirt on you totally swallows you up, he must also be quite muscular and tall. Tell me,” she leans close, “has he touched you yet?”
Your cheeks turn red as the memories flash like moving pictures through your mind in a tale recounting what had just happened and all that had occurred before and within the greenwood.
You pull your lip between your teeth thoughtfully before you quietly admit, “In more ways than one, yes. Gods, has it been amazing, Niva. He is so…so attractively alluring in every way.”
Your best friend holds you close as she watches the emotion color your irises and, seeing that in combination with the way your very voice had lilted with the sentiments, happiness dawns on her as she cards a hand through your hair to declare, “Then I will endeavor to make you irresistible to whoever this alpha is, darling. When I’m done with you, your alpha won’t know what hit him before it’s too late.”
You blush when she calls in your other two omegean friends of whom carry a large assortment of oils, herbs and soaps before the three disappear into the lavatory through the adjoining antechamber in your boudoir to set to work on readying your bath.
You busy yourself in the meantime with thoughts filled only with your alpha despite the cacophony of chatter echoing excitedly off of the walls, your attention drawn elsewhere and when Niva comes to retrieve you, that’s when you look away from the window that you’d been trying to squint through in effort to locate your alpha that still hunts for you within the greenwood.
When you step into the copper basin that is much too large for your smaller body, the waiting waters wrap tenderly around your ailing body as the steam wafts around you in the heat of the fluid that births it. A long, drawn out breath leaves you as your tautened muscles loosen while your friends pour vial after vial of lavender, spruce and rosemary oil over you, the viscous solutions draping themselves over your skin to coax open your pores so that more of your pheromones are released to further attract prospective alphas with your scent.
Niva takes care to drizzle you in pink salt sold out of the exotic Himalayas that she’d acquired from an especially friendly merchant after being told it had the power to make the skin glow with the might of a goddess. After that, she then spritzes the waters around you with roses, passion flowers and red clover blossoms that decorate the watery landscape around you until its canvas has been painted a magnificent magenta while you’re lathered in the herbal bath, a sigh of satisfaction falling from your lips before your best friend starts her work cleaning your hair.
Usually, you would purr at the gentle glide of fingers over your scalp, but not today. Today, there’s only one pair of hands that you want on you and they are much too far away for your liking.
Once the suds of soap have been rinsed from your hair, that’s when you’re left to bask in the warm water that had been drawn especially for you, for each omega has their own variation of scents that they prefer to bedeck themselves with for their Offering Ceremony in effort to lure more alphas through an amplified air of pheromones surrounding them.
You ruminate on what Jungkook might do once he catches your naturally enhanced aroma that he’s already admitted to liking so much and, for good measure, your fingers find a floating rose and draw its soft petals over your shoulders before rubbing it along your neck.
When the water has gone cold and you’ve been immensely imbued with the essences of nature, that’s when your friends return to retrieve you from the depths of the basin that you’ve sunken into through your calming contentment.
Your hair is aired with oaken fans brought all the way from China before they twine and curl it around until it rests artfully in a braided bun along the crest of the back of your head, two twin strands nestled right in front of your ears to petitely frame your face.
You really wish that you could focus on the gossip that falls freely as leaves from the trees this time of year as they labor over you, but you can’t. Not when your head swims with thoughts only of your alpha.
Caught as you are in the tides of him that drag you along, you do not feel the bristles of a brush along your eyelids as Niva tips your head back to apply the powdery coloring that will accentuate your brilliant silver orbs before your best friend lines your lids with the blackened stick of kohl.
Even when a light smattering of the dust of crushed rose petals is painted over your cheeks, you do not look into the mirror, for your eyes are trained on the sliver of sun that begins to wane through the rays that begin to reach backward toward their parent as your wolf bays in expectancy to receive its mate.
Once Niva is done with her masterpiece, that’s when you’re made to stand and close your eyes before you’re walked over to the mirror that spans from the floor to the ceiling in the corner of your chambers as your other two friends produce the gown your grandmother had had made for you for this very day out of an ornately sealed box that had been left outside your door upon your return from the woods.
You hear the clicks of the chest that signal its opening, excitement enthusiastically running amok within you when there are three collective gasps behind you as they stare in awe at your gown.
It is lifted gingerly and delicately in its fragility and your friends help you into it slowly while slightly stiffened organza material skims your skin as it is pulled meticulously up and over your body. Once your arms have been lifted through the hollow holes and the pleated style sleeves rest atop your shoulders, that’s when the laces lining the back of the gown are pulled taut and the bodice constricts around you as you wince at the unyielding tightness that winds around your abdomen.
Once the ties to your dress have been neatly crossed over each other in a complicated complexity that you will never see, that is the moment that you hear the distinguishing groan of aged wood being opened in the form of another box. The contents within that are unknown to you, but upon the cold, heavy material that encircles your neck, you can surmise that it is a choker meant to conceal the area so untouchable to all but the alpha whose mark you would eventually bear in its stead.
Your best friend smiles fondly at her finished piece of artwork before stepping to the side to say, “Open your eyes, Y/N. It’s time for you to see how much the moon favors her most adored daughter.”
You open your eyes in questioning, but before you can turn your attention to your friend, the image in the mirror captures it first as your breath catches at the sight it bestows to you, your jaw falling open in wonderment.
Your skin all but glows under the gleam of sunlight that tries to tread over your radiance in its dimming dance as irises the color of moonlight piercingly stare back at you from under eyelids speckled with silver like the celestial body amidst the smudges of blended eyeshadow along the sides that beseech boldness in the color that matches the soils of the earth. It is set off by a cat-eye of kohl liner that is dappled thinly along the tips of your lids to demand attention in the way that it contrasts your irises. Even your lips have been streaked with the crimson of a rose to beckon beguilingly in the wish to be looked at.
Embellishing your neck is a choker made entirely of moonstone that is set between chromium on each side. Its base rests just above your collarbones and, its thickness, it extends about two inches upward to hide away your sensitive scent glands as it covers your skin.
Below that, though, that’s what really takes your breath away.
Your gown looks to have been crafted from the threads of the moon’s core in the white of it that adorns your body in its entirety. Layers of gossamer-like fabric compose your dress and set carefully between it all are specks that shine like grayed moondust in the light that glimmers off of them.
Your bodice is styled in a plunging ‘V’ that hugs your frame and is ceased only by the firm, fitted band that wraps around and hugs your middle well below your breastbone. Tied along its end is a very thin silver cord that twists into a knotted bow before your skirt loosely trails down and out, the train of it cascading like a sea behind and around you. Your arms are bare, but the sheerer and more translucent sleeves trickle over your shoulders and flow about to join the pool of fabric along your feet as you take a shaky breath.
The woman that stares back at you is one that drips with the waters of clarity in the confidence that she exudes as she stands tall and proud. She is every bit the omega you were always meant to be as she holds her head high, her hands clasped along her front as she angles her head at you to study you and you have to close your parted maw as you stare wondrously back at her, wholly unable to move at the sight of the stranger that has your body in the mirror.
When the familiar furs of your alpha are lowered over your shoulders, that’s when you look away, your irises finding Niva’s as she coos, “I don’t even think the ancient queen of the wolves could compare to you, darling. I really have outdone myself this time.”
You stutter, completely in awe of yourself as you tell her, “N-Niva…this is… how did you-“
Your best friend hushes you with a finger to her lips,” Shhh, that’s a secret, my dear. I cannot divulge my magics lest someone steal them away from me,” she teases as she puts both hands around your shoulders to encourage, “Look at yourself, my darling. You look positively radiant. Those alphas don’t stand a chance.’
You think that maybe it is all just a trick of your senses and that it is just a hallucination, for you surely can’t actually appear the way that the girl in the mirror does, right?
You find your visage once again on the mirror in an irrational need to confirm this only to widen your eyes at what greets you, for it is you that peers curiously back at yourself, your hand reaching out to run your fingers down the image of you that is set behind it.
Your friends step back from you when your hand lowers and you turn to them with joyous tears that threaten to ruin all the work they labored so much from as they quickly fan the air around you in attempt to keep them trapped within your eyes as you laugh, your arms shooting out to welcome them all in a warm embrace that you are sure to thank them incessantly within.
You enfold them in your arms until the sun’s rays strain to reach you, it’s descent into the night being announced with the raucously reverberating howl from the forest that has your blood singing in the familiarity that it is carried to you with.
It finds your ears even here and you perk up, your wolf barking in need to go and wait for the alpha that every fiber of your being tells you is near as your best friend looks to you in understanding as she says, “Go on, Y/N. Don’t worry about us. He’s waiting for you. Go to him.”
You need no further coaxing as your feet move of their volition, your fingers closing around the mended trousers while you pull the furs your alpha had given to you tight around you, for it was tradition that omegas were not to expose skin before the Offering Ceremony and to be wrapped in an outer covering that preserved their purity until they were ready to shed it upon commencement of the event and acceptance of their alpha.
The golden disk that once sat high in the sky now has dipped halfway below the horizon, but you need none of its light to locate the alpha that calls you forth as you tread tirelessly on until your nose brings you to the edge of the forest where an old trace of Jungkook still lingers.
You crouch to leave his fixed clothing by the bark of one aged tree as you walk on, narrowing your eyes as you attempt to see beyond the long line of browned stalks that stretch on as far as the eye can see.
Anticipation flaps with the fierceness of a black swan within you and when you hear the snap of a branch somewhere off to your left, you enter the thicket’s threshold without hesitation in your baser being’s need to relish in the warmth of your alpha.
The stench of death thickly layers the air as you wrinkle your nose and as you find yourself standing before the broken limb of the tree, that’s when the dark silhouette of a figure steps out from behind it.
The sun’s fading rays blind you to whoever you’ve found, but the voice that soon lathers itself all too heavily and viscously over your skin has your hair standing on end as it saccharinely presses, “Were you looking for someone? It’s okay, omega, you can tell me that you were trying to find me and profess your love to me. Everyone else does.”
You roll your eyes at his vain vanity, “Actually, Taehyung, I was just trying to find my alpha who happens to be nearby and if he finds you here, he’s not going to take too kindly to that.”
You turn away from the alpha, but Taehyung predatorily stalks after you and before you realize what’s happened, he’s in front of you to halt your movements, a twisted grin marring his features as he sniffs you, a tremor wracking his body as he does that has your blood running cold.
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, omega,” he tries to reach for you and you take a step back, not wanting his odor nor his filthy touch to stain you, “See, Jeon won’t be back for some time, sweet thing. He’s still on the mountain hauling back his kills that he’ll be too late to bargain for you with.”
Your stomach drops to the recesses of your body as you try to move away from the alpha that hounds after you while your fingers tighten over the furs that cover you from his roving irises that roam all over you, your skin crawling everywhere that his attention slithers over.
In the eyes that are glazed over from the onset of a rut, there is no care there. There is only gluttonous greed that bats away anything and everything that is not you.
Your omega harks for you to submit under the alpha’s penetrating gaze, but you resist it as your own alpha’s voice traipses through your mind.
“I will not tolerate anyone that attempts to take what is mine.”
It is that thought that has you pushing past the instinct to yield to the alpha before you now as you shake your head, the surety set in your eyes amusing Taehyung as you spew its fires, “I would advise that you move away from me before you do something that you will regret. Your pack alpha has already made his claim on me and will not hesitate to punish you if you tarnish what belongs to him.”
Your defiance has the alpha’s cock harden impossibly more amidst the divine incense you emit from freshly opened pores. No omega had dared to talk back to him before and it was inebriating.
“Stars, you really are lust if it had a form, she-wolf,” the shadow convulses with dark laughter that has goosebumps growing along your skin as you back away, “Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You smell sweet as fuck, too…I wonder if you taste just as good.”
Fear has your body begin to lock into place when your back nears the rough bark of a tree, “Do not do this, Taehyung. You will face wrath the likes of which you’ve never seen if you so much as lay a finger on me. I want nothing to do with you, do you understand?”
A grin curls with malicious intent along its edges as he takes a step forward until he’s only inches away from you as he taunts, “Oh? You want nothing to do with me? Perhaps you shouldn’t be striding around smelling like temptation and sex in that little dress then, huh? You omegas always have a flair for driving us crazy when you present, but fuck, Y/N, no one holds a candle to you. I think,” his eyes glint dangerously when your back hits the thick trunk of the tree, “that you should be claimed by a real alpha that can treat you better than Jeon ever could.”
“Taehyung,” you try through a dry mouth,” Stop. I don’t want this. Jungkook is the one I wish to bear the mark of, not you.”
Panic sets in and seeps icily across every vein when one hand comes to rest next to your head, his eyes burning a hole into your neck as he makes a sound of consideration, “Such a lucky happenstance that the pack alpha didn’t think to mark what was his if he didn’t wish for others to taint it.”
The alpha nears and the ache between your knuckles warrants the incoming protraction of unguis, but before they can make their appearance, there’s a raged roar born entirely of aggression that threateningly thunders through the woodland. It is stormed by the fury that is set between the crackling of claws fulminating fiercely over the trunks of trees somewhere behind you.
It takes only one inhale through your nostrils to know who has joined you, your heart pounding faster in response as your wolf cries for its mate while his scent thaws the ice within your body that Taehyung had foolishly frozen within it.
“I thought I made myself clear to you, boy,” the sound bleeds into a menacing snarl from behind you and Taehyung stops in his tracks, seized as he is by the overpowering command of the alpha ranked higher even than him as Jungkook’s brooding aura pierces him like an icicle in the coldness of the familiar voice,” She’s mine. I would advise you back the fuck away from my mate before I do much worse to you than break both of your arms the last time you felt it wise to try to fucking disobey me.”
In the chill of the frigid air that has his beast wanting to tuck its tail between its legs, Taehyung tries to ignore it as he dissentingly jeers, “Is she yours? Unfortunate that I don’t see your mark on her then, pack alpha,” Taehyung sneers, his eyes still settled on yours, though your attention is far from him at this point as you stare longingly towards the origin of where nails scrape furiously into the skins of the trees as he dares to challenge, “You are not the only wolf that thirsts for a she-wolf as parching as this one, Jeon. I could get drunk off her scent alone and you expect me to just sit back and allow you to take such an appealing aperitif away from me? Sorry, but I want to taste her myself and there’s nothing that you can do to-“
The rest of whatever the younger alpha had been wanting to say never makes it past the confines of his mouth, for there’s a blur of golden skin that flashes before you and suddenly, Taehyung has been launched several feet into the air only for his spine to collide into the back of an old, stocky evergreen tree.
The bark screams against the contact in the deafening series of snaps as the foolish alpha is slammed so forcefully into it that, like an arrow, his body shoots cleanly through the aged integument as the oaken pillar that has been broken in half falls to the forest floor with a thud.
Golden irises find you under their attention as your alpha steps from behind you, your blood warming at his heated touch when he grasps your chin between his fingers to assess you for damage before laying his forehead against your own as you reach out for him, the pads of your fingers lightly trailing tenderly along his jawline as you quietly whisper,” Alpha.”
Jungkook nuzzles you protectively before he rumbles out, “My omega. Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”
He’s like a furnace in the way that his skin is calefied with the intensity of the sun and you purr when he nudges at your neck as your palm finds its place where his heart beats like a drum against you as you tell him, “No, Jungkook. With you around to keep me safe, he never got that far. He was about to, but you didn’t let him, my alpha.”
Your alpha bristles at that, his irises dimming in light of your admission as he growls, “He nearly did. He would have if I hadn’t come when I did. I sensed your scent souring and it led me here. Had I been just a bit later, I nearly would have lost what was mine,” you watch in awe how his canines draw themselves out of his gums, captivated by the way that they lengthen and grow in size until they protrude out of his mouth in their large size that is much more massive than the average alpha as he pulls away from the nook in your neck to lay a callused palm along your jaw as he utters, “I need you to stay here for me, pretty. That fucking fool needs to be reminded of who is in charge here and I intend to jog his pitiful memory so that he never forgets it.”
He draws away entirely too soon as you whimper in his absence and you, with your eyes magnetized only for him, observe with interest the way that he strides heavily and imposingly through the cluster of trees to bear down upon the collapsed body that is a mess of tangled limbs under the broken arm of the oak he’d been forcefully thrown against.
Your alpha’s hair falls wildly over his face and, in the waning light of the sun, his eyes bear down balefully over the younger alpha as he stands nude save for the mended article of clothing covering his lower half that you had dutifully brought for him.
Fury is palpable in the way that it looms like a shadow off of Jungkook, in the way that it clings to his every muscle when he snaps with glistening incisors at the downed alpha as he seethes, “It seems that you’ve lost sight of who is at the top of the food chain, boy,” Your alpha towers intimidatingly over Taehyung, who hisses at him, “The one on top gets the pick of the fucking litter and that, Taehyung, has never been you. I am your pack alpha and I am the only wolf that can command all of you alphas beneath me. It’s time that I discipline you to make you aware of that fact.”
You hardly have time to process the popping sound of bones before your alpha has lodged five razor-edged, serrated claws deep into the recesses of Taehyung’s left shoulder as the younger alpha yowls out in pain that can be heard miles away in its dismal din.
Your alpha marvels at the crimson fluid that stains him as the red tears of Taehyung’s wounds pool around your alpha’s digits only to trickle sadly downward until they are one with the earth.
Jungkook snarls forbiddingly when Taehyung squirms underneath him to hound out, “What happened to that mouth you like to fucking flap all the time? Too scared now to use it, boy?” Your alpha leans forward with anger flashing in his eyes, “I would suggest that you don’t fuck with me again, little wolf. You’re going to get much more than the fucking claws next time should you be foolish enough to try.”
Your alpha draws his other arm back, your eyes widening in the darkness that is settling its dark shroud over him.
Before another set of claws can embed themselves within the younger alpha, you call for your own and through the cloak of negative emotion that has begun to suffocate him, your voice slips between it to caress the ire of his baser being.
When your smaller fingers enclose around the wrist of his bloodied hand, you gently coax his claws out of Taehyung, who crumples atop of the brambles along the woodland with a thump as you press yourself to your alpha’s back to offer with a soft voice, “Come back to me now, alpha. Your mate does not wish to see you so wracked by your fury. You’ve made your point clear to both him and to me.”
Jungkook inhales deeply only for his muscles to loosen while your sweet scent laces itself around him as he turns to utter, “My omega, it is because of my mate that I must resort to the animal within me,” You watch as the dark emotion recedes slowly from his irises as he imbibes you, entirely too parched of you for so long as an emotion you’ve yet to understand intensifies in its wake when he confesses, “I can hardly help that when you beckon me so, pretty.”
#werewolf!jungkook#werewolf jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#jungkook#bts#dom!jungkook#btsbookclub#bangtanarmynet#bts abo#alpha!jungkook#alpha jungkook#alpha omega bts#alpha jungkook x omega reader#jungkook hot
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I was going to wait until I had finished doing all the concept sketches for this but uh, I’m lazy so here take it as it is I’ll keep adding surely surely.
-LONG POST-
AU where the hermits fall into the boatem hole with no way to fly out because of some event that happens - maybe an apocalypse, maybe everyone just goes apeshit, who knows - and they all get messed up heads from falling in the void and passing out n fun stuff like that. They ‘land’ - idk how this would work without them dying lol - in a semi futuristic city which for now let’s just call it Boateqm (silent q). The hermit crabs would also fall at different rates therefore appear in the city at different times. So where do they end up?
Hospital gang:
Etho wakes up in a hospital bed with no memories - most of them will wake up with no memories btw - his doctor/nurse (this hospital may be understaffed) Tango asks him a bunch of questions then has to go see another patient. Etho is seen by a certain Bdubs who had just finished visiting his buddy Scar -will get to him next- in the bed next door. Bdubs walks back to notify Scar, a fashion designer, that the guy in the bed across would make a great model, just look at the striking hair! And the red eye! He opens the curtains on the side and Scar gets a look. He asks if Etho would like to be hired. Etho is to say the least very confused and on the verge of a panic attack that never quite seems to happen so he’s in a weird kind of limbo anyway it is now that his doctor/nurse Tango comes back and having overheard the conversation suggests it would be a good idea. The hospital can only take custody of Etho for so long, might as well start earning money now so he doesn’t become homeless. Etho is still very confused. So Tango just agrees to the job for him as his caretaker lol, and besides Scar comes here kinda often so Tango trusts him. Anyway Etho’s true passions he discovers are synthesisers, breeding horses with Bdubs and finding elaborate ways to do tax evasion. A simple man.
Scar is in the hospital because he got SCAR (hehe) from walking into a glass door in his super fancy house, which he owns because he’s a super fucking rich fashion designer of his own label Scara (this is not the first time he’s walked into a glass door). Scar refuses to go to a rich people hospital tho cause 1) he cares about healthcare and wants more funds to go to lower grade hospitals 2) Tango is his mate, and needs a goddam raise. But yeah, very successful, ran for mayor once but someone really didn’t like that which resulted in another hospital visit. Mans in the wars. One hospital visit he got really inspired by the fabric and stuff there so he had a line of clothes that were hospital inspired one time, in turn making hospital inspired garb very trendy for a bit. What a mad lad. Ideas man. Some would call him a genius if he didn’t keep on walking into glass doors n shit. Scar woke up in the back room of a small tailoring shop owned by a nice old couple who took him under their wing. He thanks them in every award speech, and whenever he’s in the area make sure to stop by and give them presents. His side hobby is gardening.
When Tango came to, he was lying on the footpath of a quiet street in the suburbs just out from the main city. Gorgeous day, golden hour, pretty houses, very aesthetic. He also had a leg injury, fuck. So Tango did what anyone would do: hobbled to the nearest house, asked in the nicest way he could under a lot of stress (so he kinda yelled) for a first aid kit, and performed surgery on himself atop the nice families dinner table. The nice family turned out to have called the police and an ambulance, who showed up just as Tango was wrapping up his leg with a bandage and took him away to the police on a stretcher. This debacle got him a leading story on the local newspaper: ‘Man performs surgery on himself after waking up with no memories and a leg injury’. After being questioned by the police, they decide they can’t really charge someone with amnesia and no money with anything like breaking and entering (he did knock and they did let him in) or property damage (blood on the carpet). The paramedics are stunned at his surgery, so they tell the police to take him to the nearest hospital and get him hired there, he could save so many lives. He gets hired by the head doctor after an examination of the surgery. The head doctor doesn’t really care that Tango doesn’t have any records or anything, the hospital is understaffed and Tango seems like an Angel sent down from the heavens to him. Tango is very very good at his job. So good that he gets offered a job at a far better paying hospital which he takes, then soon drops because he prefers the chaos of his old job much better.
Tango found Impulse extremely dehydrated, looking like death, wandering outside his flat one night, so he carried the man inside and saved his life. Now they are flat mates, and Impulse works in a tech store - an upgrade from working at a service station previously.
Bdubs woke up in an inner city park at night, homeless, broke, and in the company of other homeless and broke people. He built his way to success, got luckily hired by some rich asshole to mow their lawns plural - the rich asshole didn’t ask much questions, he just saw a poor man criticising the way a park had been landscaped to an old guy in a caravan and though it was good enough, seeing as the last one quit - and Bdubs didn’t mind too much, because the rich assholes property was really gorgeous. Once Bdubs was able to say he had work experience and wasn’t homeless he started babysitting the kids in the neighbourhood, pretty good money. Plus the kids love him, and everyone he meets loves him, he's just a nice guy. He met Scar because he had to purchase a suit for a kids birthday party, so he went to the cute little tailors shop he always walked past on the way to his favourite cute little gardening supplies shop. By now Bdubs had been promoted to part time gardener - the job is shared - and started working on and off at a building firm. They become besties, turns out Scar is also really into gardening etc etc. Eventually Bdubs becomes an architect, mainly designing for city contractors n such but occasionally designer homes, like the one he did for Scar.
Mumbo and Grian wake up in the hospital around the same time that Etho is still there, however Etho has been awake longer, and should really find a place to stay soon now that he’s got a steady job. Since - ok plot point here - the two are in the exact situation that Etho found himself in, he starts to feel like something weird is going on. Mumbo and Grian take a lot longer to recover than Etho did, and the two become hospital bed neighbor buddies. When they finally recover Scar offers them a temporary place to stay at his house while they find work. Tango gets Impulse to put in a good word for Mumbo at his work.
Nomads:
TFC is an old man who lives in a caravan off the money he made being a very successful miner, he now collects pretty shiny rocks and gems and stuff to give to kids. He’s like an all year round caravan Santa and wise old mystical figure. Dope.
Joe is a humble man who likes to wander. He’s never had a home, but if he needs anything he’ll go to TFC’s caravan or a homeless shelter or something. But he isn’t sad or anything, he really likes the freedom of being a simple wanderer.
Others:
Keralis is a business partner of Bdubs. Kerlalis is mega stonks. He was one of the first to land, had a big diamond in his pocket, bought shares in a company that blew up soon after and now he is really fucking rich.
Doc and Ren are the only ones who remember anything, and they arrive at the same time. Doc manages to keep his cool, but Ren loses his shit and gets thrown in a mental institution. Doc spends some time trying to get Ren out, and after a final success and laying low for a bit the two seek to bring all the hermits together.
Pearl ends up working in Bdubs building company.
Beef works in a music shop -sells records and instruments- and he starts up a record label out back after his boss retires and passes the shop onto him.
And yeah I don’t really know the other Hermits that well was hoping some of ya’ll could help me find places for them in this city :) don’t really know how to format this either so maybe some input would be nice, just wanted to get the idea out hehehe
#hermitcraft#hermitcraft au#ethoslab#goodtimeswithscar#tangotek#impulsesv#bdouble0#mumbo jumbo#grian#tinfoilchef#joe hills#keralis#docm77#rendog#pearlescentmoon#vintagebeef#hermitcraft fanart#hermitcraft fanfic#etho fanart#tangotek fanart
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rise of the Demon King ~ Epilogue
Rise of the Demon King
Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:
I spent that night cuddled close to Lucifer. After I bathed, he tended to my injuries and wrapped my upper back where my top set of wings once were. We layed in bed together, Lucifer holding me protectively against him as we fell asleep to the sound of our heartbeats, beating in sync. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 13 - Epilogue (3514 words)
“Mmm, Lu?” Gingerly, I opened my eyes. I had woken up to the feeling of someone nuzzling the side of my neck. Opening my eyes, I found that we had shifted into a spooning position in our sleep. His arms were wrapped around my waist and my hands were clasped over his. Lucifer was still asleep, holding on to me tightly. Carefully, I turned over to face him. His expression was relaxed. Sleep melted away any forehead creases making him look infinitely younger. His lips parted ever so slightly as his hair fell over his face, framing it just right. Carefully, as not to wake him, I lifted my hand to tuck some loose strands behind his ear and pecked him on the cheek. Being the notoriously light sleeper he is, Lu stirred at the movement. “Good morning Lu” “Mmm, good morning love” “Did you sleep well?” “Mhm.” Lucifer opened his eyes. The soft morning glow of the Devildom moon cast a soft light over him masking the demonic entity next to me in a celestial glow. His eyes were soft and docile, sleep still apparent. Not wanting to ruin the moment, but also not wanting to miss breakfast and see the rest of the brothers again, I started to shift away.
“Come on Lu, it’s time to get up.” “No. Just a little longer.” Lucifer immediately tightened his hold on me and buried his face into my chest. Letting out a small laugh, I brought my hand to his head and started stroking his hair. He sighed and leaned into my touch. “I’d love to stay in bed longer, but if we do that, Beel would eat everything.” Lucifer muttered something into my chest before pulling away and placing a kiss on my forehead. “We wouldn’t want that now would we? Come, let me change your dressings, then we’ll go.” It was then I remembered that I didn’t exactly have anything to wear. “Um, Lu? What am I supposed to wear?” Lucifer was already across the room getting the first aid supplies and a change of clothes out of the closet. He laid them out in front of me as I sat up. Spying the outfit, I realized it was my own, the one I would always wear when Lucifer and I spent our limited alone time. “Lu? Why do you have my clothes in your closet?” I asked with a raised eyebrow as he started removing my dressings and cleaning the wounds. A small blush appeared at my question. “It’ll be about 2 weeks before these fully heal.” “Lucifer, you’re avoiding my question.” “It will take you a little longer to learn how to fly with 2 pairs of wings instead of your usual 3.” I caught Lucifer’s hand in my own. He averted his gaze away from mine, his blush intensifying. “Lucifer.” “I-I couldn’t let you go. These reminded me of you, so I kept them. We still have most of your stuff in the catacombs. I just wanted these for myself.” When he finished, he was looking anywhere but my face. I held his hand and cupped a cheek with my other hand, gently turning him to face me. I leaned up and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You missed.” Lucifer looked at me with his signature smirk on his face. I put a finger on my cheek and tilted my head. “I did? Huh, that’s strange I never miss.” Leaning up, I placed a kiss on the opposite corner. “Now you’re just teasing me.” I giggled. “Yup. Now come on, we better get down there before Beel eats everything.” ~Dining Room~ Lucifer entered the room first, announcing that they had a visitor that would be staying with them. “Ooh, really? Yay! Another Spa mate!” Asmo clapped his hands excitedly. “Great, I don’t have time for another normie.” Levi went back to his switch not caring. Belphie was half awake and not really caring, giving the barest hint of acknowledgement. “Who are they?” Satan asked, putting his book down. “Well, we have met before. It would be quite awkward to have to introduce myself a second time.” I stepped around from behind Lucifer and looked to the brothers sitting at the dining table. Pin. Drop. Silence. A full second went by before I found myself under a pile of demons. “Y/N! You’re back!” “Y/N, I can’t believe this!” Asmo clung tightly to me, practically bawling his eyes out. Belphie was clinging to my other side with Beel wrapping his arms around both of us. Levi was hugging me from behind, pressing his cheek into my back. Satan waited by Lucifer for his turn while Mammon was still standing there in shock.
“G-guys! I missed you too but I still need to breathe!” “Alright everyone, Y/N is still sore from their fall. I know you’re all excited to have them back, but give them some room.” After Lucifer got his brothers off me, I went and gave Satan a tight hug. “Welcome home kitten.” “It’s good to be home.” After letting go of Satan, I made my way to Mammon. “It’s really you, ain’t it treasure?” “Come on Mammoney, who else would I be?” Mammon lowered himself to my level and tucked his head into the crook of my neck, holding on to me. “Ya dumb human.” “Not human anymore I’m afraid.” “That’s right! Darling, can we see your demon form please? I’m sure you look absolutely stunning!” “Not really much of a demonic form Asmo, but, well, you’ll see.” I stepped away from Mammon as the rest of the brothers backed up to give me some room. I rolled my shoulders feeling a swirl of magic surround me as I unfurled my wings and let my Nephalem form (A/N: That’s what I’m calling it. Don’t like it, too bad 🙃). I looked up at the shocked look on the brother's face. “You look stunning kitten.” “Your halo. It’s beautiful darling!” “You look just like him.” “I know Beel. I don’t know why my halo stayed. You guys can touch it, but Satan, I don’t know if you can yet.” “Y/N’s halo repels demons but doesn’t have an effect on beings that once held, or have traces of grace within them. Since you are born from me, you might have some trace, but we shouldn’t risk it. For now, just avoid touching it Satan.” “Will do, although I am curious. When the rest of you fell, your halo’s broke off and your uniforms changed completely, so why is it that Y/N’s outfit stayed Celestial, albeit with their colours, and they kept their halo, even if it is now a ring of black fire?” “I wish I knew Satan, although it might have something to do with my decision to willingly fall instead of being cast out by force.” Satan opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Beel’s stomach decided to make a guest appearance. “What, we stopped breakfast for this?” “Alright big boy, let’s eat, we can invite Dia and Barb and talk about this afterwards.” “Dad. What’s going on, and who's this?” I turned to the doorway where the voice came from. I looked as a young demon woman walked into the room. Her long black hair was braided down her shoulder. Serene coloured eyes looked me up and down. She wore a simple outfit consisting of dark blue denim tights with a white v-neck shirt, a black cropped jean jacket, and a pair of knee-high combat boots. “Who are you?” She asked again with her hands on her hip, eyes pinned on me.” I turned around to face the brothers. “Alright spill. Who’s the father?” I looked at the brothers with an equally pinning gaze as all eyes looked to Satan. “That would be me. Mezu, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my daughter Mezu.” “You had a kid and didn’t tell me?!” “When could I have done that? We literally found out you were alive not 3 minutes ago. Mezu, Y/N here is an old friend of ours. They were the one that brought our family together and sacrificed themselves for us.” “Nice to meet you Mezu.” I stuck my hand out for her to take. She didn’t. “Why do you don and angels garb and halo with demonic features?” Mezu looked at me with her arms crossed, distrust evident across her features. “Mezu, you can trust them.” Lucifer came and put a hand on my shoulder. Mezu looked unconvinced and took one more look at me before reluctantly letting the subject drop. “If you say so. Although I still want to know why.” “I’ll explain that all after breakfast when Diavolo and Barbatos get here. I look forward to learning more about you too Mezu.”
~After Breakfast in the Common Area~
“So, I guess I should start.” “What happened after the execution?” Mezu asked. “Mezu!” “It’s fine Satan. I figured that’s where I should start anyway. After the execution, I woke up in some sort of pocket dimension. Lilith was there, she says hi by the way. She explained this dimension that she called the “Void”. It’s a place where souls that have no destination but don’t return to oblivion go to. She presented me with two options. She didn’t have enough power to resurrect me the way she did before, so she told me that she could either make me into a demon and return to the Devildom, or make me a Seraph and take me to the Celestial realm. I wanted to return badly, and I almost did but I didn’t want to return as a demon serving under Abandon. I chose to go to the Celestial realm. I woke up in the House of Honors wearing, according to Michael, Lucifer’s old uniform. Needless to say, he was not happy about that. After he gave me something to eat, we headed to the palace to see your father. It was there where we struck a deal. Neither of us wanted me to be there, but I also didn’t want to return and serve under Abandon. No offence” “None taken.” “He took an interest toward my knowledge of Lucifer's old habits and position. He struck a deal with me, one I would have also struck if he had not suggested it. I was to serve as Lucifer’s replacement, as head of the council of 7, until such a time that King Abandon steps down and Diavolo rises to the throne. During my time as the Council leader, I was to fulfill my duties as Lucifer would have, not abuse my power, and make decisions based on the best interest of the realm. The period of the agreement ended yesterday when Diavolo was crowned. I-” “Y/N?” I turned to look at Lucifer. “Diavolo wasn’t crowned yesterday. He’s been king for almost half a century now.” My eyes widened. “You mean to tell me. That I could have returned HALF A CENTURY AGO?! I should have done more than sock that bastard while I had the chance.” At the last part, half the room doubled over laughing. “You-you actually punched him, in the face?!” Satan asked, clutching his stomach. “Yup. In Front of the entire council, right before I jumped. You should have seen their faces but I could only do so much within the element of surprise before I made my dramatic exit. I would have done it sooner if I knew Dia had been crowned. I just didn’t want to risk falling while his dad was still in reign.” “Darling, have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” “Only every day since we met Azzy. Anyway, back to the story.” ~A Few Hours Later~ “And that’s when I woke up in Diavolo’s garden yesterday.” “It seems like the past millennia had been eventful for everyone.” Mezu commented once I had finished. “How was everyone's time here? I really want to know the story behind Satan’s love life and what the rest of you were up too.” “Well, the first few decades or so were quite difficult. It was hard to forget that you weren’t with us. Eventually though, we all grew closer through grieving you. Your death opened a familial bond between us. Something we had a hard time admitting existed while you were here.” Lucifer explained. “Don’t worry, we still haven’t changed. Mammon still ends up hanging from the ceiling, Satan spends all day reading and coming up with ways to prank Lucifer with Belphie, Asmo is still as narcissistic as ever, Beel keeps cleaning out the fridge, and I still spend my days in my room.” “Although, I noticed you have been starting to come out of it more often Leviathan.” Diavolo stated “Well, yes. I’ve been visiting the catacombs whenever I get the chance to add something to Y/N’s collection by their casket.” “Uhh, if my dead body is still down there, could we, like, get rid of it? It’s a little creepy to live in a house knowing your dead body is in the basement.” “We’ll clean that out and bring your stuff to your old room.” Satan said. “Alright. Ok then. Your turn.” “Me?” “Yes you. Come on Satan, spill. What is this love story of yours? I want to know more about Mezu and her mother.” Satan scratched the back of
his neck, looking lost in thought, a longing look in his eyes. I looked around the room and noticed that the occupants avoided my eyes, some looking towards Satan with a pitying look. Only Mezu looked at me. “My mother died 50 years ago.” “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” “Of course you didn’t. You angels don’t care for any demon or their relations. You all think your so high and mighty yet-” “Mezu, that’s enough! Y/N is not an angel, not anymore. I assure you, they care more than you think.” Lucifer starred his granddaughter niece down as she sat back down. A scowl still present on her face. “I’m sorry Mezu, I truly am. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. Please forgive me.” I smiled at her. She looked away, almost guiltily before Satan broke the silence. “Mezu was named after her mother. She was killed by an angel when Mezu was 25. She was beautiful and the only one who could cool my wrath after you passed.” “Were you happy with her? Like truly happy?” “Truly.” “That’s all I need to know.” I stood and hugged Satan. He returned it, resting his head above my heart.
~2 Years Later. At RAD~
It’s been 2 years since I returned. My wounds have healed and I found my place among the demons once again. Diavolo appointed me as an official member of the student council. I served as a secretary of sorts to Lucifer to allow for fewer sleepless nights and to make sure he didn’t bury himself in his work. Because of my status as a fallen, I was considered a noble and given the title “Avatar of Loyalty. The 8th of the 8” by Diavolo himself. I returned to RAD as a teacher on angel studies and a student in demonic politics. Lucifer and I became an official couple. During long night grading, I found myself chuckling at my students' interpretations of the Celestial Realm. I reminisced about my time with the council. Michael was probably glad to have finally gotten rid of me. Luke was promoted as Michael’s personal protegé. The rest of the angels were probably too busy to think about me though. Having finished marking, I went to go get Lucifer to turn in for the night.
~The next day~
“Dia, not to sound rude or anything, but why did you want us all to meet so early? RAD isn’t starting for another hour.” Diavolo sat in his head seat at the table as the rest of us sat in our usual spots. All of us displaying varying levels of consciousness. Belphegor having fallen back asleep as soon as he sat down. Diavolo had a beaming smile on his face as he spoke. Never a good sign... “We have some new exchange students joining us today. I want you to meet them all and show them around RAD. This is an opportunity for the rest of you to mend some old ties” “My Lord, what exactly are you getting at?” Lucifer asked tentatively. Diavolo’s smile only grew brighter, but before he could say anything, the doors to the council room burst open. “Y/N!” Looking up, I managed to catch a mop of reddish-orange hair before I was buried under a pile of bodies. After I finally wiggled my way out, I backed up towards Lucifer; his arm finding its way around my waist. Standing in the council room were the 7 Archangels, all donning RAD uniforms, all smiling sheepishly save for Michael who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed. Looking at the rest of the brothers, I found that Bell was now wide awake as the rest of them looked a tad bit uncomfortable. Lucifer had a displeased frown. “What are you guys doing here?” “It was Father's idea to have us participate in this program. He thought it best to-” “Don’t kid yourself Michael. We volunteered to come. We missed you Y/N. Especially Michael. He wouldn’t stop talking about you after you left. Things weren’t the same after you fell. He also really wanted to see Lucifer again.” Raphael cut Michael off mid-sentence. Looking around, the brothers each had a murderous look in their eyes. “Ok, first off, you volunteered, I got dragged into this. Second, I did not miss Y/N and I did not talk about them after they left. If anything, I was glad that they were gone, especially after that little stunt they pulled before they jumped. You didn’t think I’d forget that Y/N, did you?” I loosened myself from Lucifer's grip and made my way over to the angels, giving them each a hug in turn. “Aww, I missed you guys too. Mike. What did I say about your pride? Honestly, for someone who used to adore the Virtue of Humility and claims to hate the Avatar of Pride, you really seem to take after his sin. Besides, you didn’t deny wanting to see Lu again.” The occupants in the room started snickering as Michael’s face started turning a lovely shade of beet red. Lucifer looked taken aback at the revelation but lightly chuckled into his fist as well. “I’d be careful Mike. You wouldn’t want to lose that angelic status of yours for something as childish as misplaced pride.” Lucifer said with a smirk on his face. Michael started stuttering, trying to defend himself. “I-I didn’t! I-I don’t have any Pride I swear! Besides-” “Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Gabriel stepped in to save Michael from any more embarrassment. “It’s true, we did miss you and saw the exchange program as an opportunity to see you again. That’s why we volunteered to come.” Gabriel stopped in front of me and hugged me, much gentler than before. “We really did miss you Y/N. Things up there were too quiet without you.” “Oi! Hands off Y/N!” Mammon jumped up from his chair and pushed Gabriel away from me. Levi had shifted into his demonic form and wrapped his tail around my waist. “Y/N Belongs to us, not you normies.” “NORMIES?! I’m hurt that you think of us like that Leviachan. It is nice to know that you still kept your love for the Japanese animation even after you left.” Azrael said as he turned to look at Levi. A hand on his chest and a look of faux hurt in his eyes. This time, it was Levi’s turn to turn beet red. His self conscious not being able to take the attention. I was pulled away from Levi by Lucifer who placed a quick kiss on the top of my head. A prideful smirk on his face as he addressed the angels.
“Now then, there is no need to fight over this. Y/N belongs to me. Isn’t that right my love?” One cannot describe the look of utter hurt, shock, betrayal, and jealousy that overtook the features of everyone present in the room at Lucifer’s bold statement. My own expression being that of shock before all bloody hell broke loose. Everyone started arguing over who I belonged to and who I loved the most. I stood there trying to calm everyone down but alas, my voice was never heard over the shouting. “It seems the exchange program is becoming quite the success, isn’t it Barbatos?” “Indeed My Lord, although perhaps we should put a stop to this before someone loses control?” “No need Barb. Let them talk among themselves. I know, how about some tea while we wait?” “Of course My Lord.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And there we go. It's done! Thank you to everyone who stuck through reading this until the end. Thank you to everyone who left comments and Likes.
For those who are wondering about the candle and magical energy that surrounded Y/N, the energy is the magic used to take away their angelic status and made them into a Nephalem (Demon, Angel Hybrid). Their candle kept changing itself because it needed to form a new substance to match Y/N's new physiology.
#obey me: one master to rule them all#obey me#obey me x reader#lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer#mammon x reader#obey me mammon#leviathan x reader#obey me leviathan#satan x reader#obey me satan#asmodeus x reader#obey me asmodeus#beelzebub x reader#obey me beelzebub#belphegor x reader#obey me belphegor#obey me micheal#OMFIC
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
New York
Another modern au, but this time, the whole crew shows up.....and they show up in New York, a hub of modern technology and culture. Aided by your friend, you help them acclimate to life in modern times. As if that wasn’t enough, the crew tries to set you up with James, who is, admittedly, one of your fictional crushes. For @shadowsingeraxolotl
@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @paljonkaikenlaista @viper-official @wordsinwinters @groovyfluxie
~3350 words
~~~~~~~
New York was a hub of activity, people flitting about from place to place in the early evening light. The diversity between people was staggering; hipsters walked on their way between stores, the well-dressed made their way to music halls and theaters, tourists took pictures of everything in sight, and tired-looking students drank their weight in coffee at each Starbucks.
You, however, were just going home. You’d spent the day on Manhattan’s waterfront, and you looked forward to coming back to tour the middle of the city later. You lived in Brooklyn, and spent some of your free time exploring the various sections of NYC. No matter how long a person lived in New York City, there was always more to see.
You passed a small group of people who looked to be dressed in costumes. They looked like they’d come straight out of a history book. Each of them were staring up and around at the surrounding skyscrapers with wide eyes, and you wondered if it was part of the act. One noticed your curiosity and beckoned you over.
“Could you tell us where we are, love?” He asked. Dreadlocks hung to his shoulders, and he had on a costume like a pirate. In fact, he quite looked like Johnny Depp, and you wondered if there was a production of Pirates of the Caribbean going on nearby.
Wouldn’t have missed that for the world, you thought. How did I not see any advertising? “Why, you’re in New York.” You played along, though you felt a bit shy around the strangers.
“New York?” Another man sputtered. He stood just behind you, and you turned to see a man in naval uniform.
You smiled to yourself. The stricken expression on the man’s face was quite convincing. A good actor, I bet. Then you looked him over again, and you were sure all the color drained from your face, because he was the spitting image of James Norrington. Did I eat something, or am I just dreaming?
“Wonderful.” This came from a girl standing next to you, and you turned to see a girl who looked exactly like Elizabeth Swann. She was staring with wonder up at all the big buildings, eyes shining.
And Elizabeth would like it, too. There was another, and you knew before looking that it was going to be Will Turner. He looked awkward, looking around with clear anxiety in his eyes.
You swallowed. “You must be lost.” You could feel your own anxiety skyrocketing. This is insane. I’m insane. This can’t be real. Instead of saying any of that, though, you said, “Do you need a place to stay?”
“That would be wonderful, love.” As calm as he was trying to sound, there was some tension in Jack’s voice. You couldn’t blame him.
“We can get an Uber. Or two. Or….” It might just be best if I called a friend. No driver could take five people in the small cars Uber drivers usually had, and they certainly wouldn’t fit in a taxi. “I’ll just call a friend.”
It felt odd, standing there, in the middle of the street, with a bunch of strangers dressed in eighteenth century garb, waiting for your friend to show up. They had a van, and you could count on it to fit everyone.
You had to wait a long time. Traffic in Manhattan was something else; the crush of cabs, busses, and cars made driving through the area a nightmare. You tried quietly convincing your new companions not to stare at things. The statement went both ways. You wanted to gape at the little group, but you knew it was rude. Still, they literally came right out of a story. I think that warrants for staring a little.
In your peripheral vision, you could just see Norrington’s coat sleeve. Norrington. A man that you’d had a crush on since you’d first watched the series. You could feel yourself fidgeting in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the safety of home. Then it struck you: I’m going to have all these people in my house. The one place where I can retreat from people. You sighed. This’ll resolve itself. It has to. Right?
Finally, your friend arrived. They pulled up to the curb, the window to the driver’s side rolling down. “You owe me, fam.” Your friend called out. “What was so import—oh.” They stared at the little gathering.
You ushered the group into the van, instructing them on how to properly use seatbelts. You hopped in the passenger’s seat, looking over to your friend with what you knew were dazed eyes. “Yeah,” you said. “I owe you.”
There was a collective gasp as the van drove off. You could hear dull thuds from where the characters had thrown out their hands. Elizabeth, at least, was smiling. You could see her in the rearview mirror, her face pressed up against the van’s tinted windows, fingers splayed against the glass. Clearly, she was enraptured. James, on the other hand, had drained of color. You felt badly for him. This definitely wasn’t what he’d signed up for upon entering the Navy.
You pulled into the parking lot of your apartment, ushering everyone inside. The less people saw of your visitors, the better. You had them gather in your small living room while you pulled your friend aside into the bathroom.
“I just found them on the street,” you explained. “And you can see them too, which means I’m not insane.”
“Yeah….Still not sure what we should do with them. Should we turn them in to the police or something?”
Somehow, the thought didn’t seem right. “The police will probably try to put them in a psych ward.”
“You might be right on that one.” Your friend sighed. “I don’t know where you plan to keep them. This isn’t the roomiest of places.”
“It’ll have to do.” You shrugged. “And thanks. For helping me out. For going along with all this.”
They smiled. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
You stepped back out into the living room to see four expectant faces staring back at you. You had to explain a lot to them, and the task was daunting. You didn’t even know where to start. “I’m guessing that you’re all a little confused,” you began.
“That’s an understatement, mate.” Jack picked his way across the room, looking at your furniture, electronics, and decorations. He poked and prodded at a few things, making the ridiculous facial expressions he was famous for.
“As I told you earlier,” you continued, “you’re in New York City.”
“This certainly isn’t how I remember the Colonies.” Norrington looked around the small room, a frown in place.
“And I’ve seen some strange things, love, but this can’t be New York,” Jack added.
“Well….you also happen to be….” Even the thought of it sounded ridiculous. Welcome to the twenty-first century! Here are three hundred years worth of war, politics, culture, and technology to catch up on! “You’re also a couple hundred years in the future.” You watched worriedly for their response, but all you got were four sets of eyes.
“A couple?” Norrington was white as a sheet.
“Three, I think.”
“Three.”
You all stared at each other, including your friend, who looked around the room with concern. It was at this moment that Will flipped the lightswitch, causing everything to go dark. There were exclamations from the four pirates. Pirates. Probably shouldn’t bring that up. For all I know, Jack is still the only true pirate here, and the rest hadn’t fallen in yet before they got here. Suddenly, Will flipped the switch again, and your eyes had to adjust back to the light. The panic subsided—for the moment.
“Electricity,” you explained. “We don’t use candles anymore.”
“Convenient.” This came from Will, who was squinting at a lightbulb.
“Yeah. Might not want to stare at that, though.” Will nodded at your suggestion, but kept glancing back at it as if it would suddenly change.
At some point, Norrington must have regained his composure, despite the slight pinch he gave the bridge of his nose. You expected that it was a common gesture for him, what with his line of work. “You must be overwhelmed, having us here. You’ve been very kind to take us in. If you can think of anything you might need help with, we’d be happy to help you.” He gave a sharp look to each of his companions and an awkward smile to you.
You nodded, indeed feeling quite overwhelmed. The realization that you’d have to keep them in your apartment and feed them did nothing to help. You eventually figured out sleeping arrangements, though you felt badly about the lack of space. Elizabeth would share your bed with you, and the boys would take the living room. Your friend left to find suitable clothes for everyone, and you thanked them profusely.
You woke up early the next morning, full of stress. You padded softly through the living room into the kitchen, trying not to wake anybody, looking for food to make everyone. James stirred as you passed him. He was laying on the couch, though it was too small for him, and his feet were dangling over the edge. He shifted, yawning a little and stretching out. He’d doffed his wig and hat, leaving his hair to poke out at all angles. You found it adorable. He looked up at you with tired eyes, and you looked back with what you knew was equally messy hair.
“Morning,” you whispered.
“Good morning.” He gave you a small, soft smile and stood up from the couch. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Do you know how to make crepes?”
“Unfortunately not.” He looked a little awkward, but it was clear he wanted to help.
“You can help me fill them.” You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, and he followed you into the kitchen.
It was strange, to have company in a kitchen that usually only held you. It was nice, too. James was a welcome presence, spreading jams, peanut butter, and nutella across the crepes you made. You gave him some ham to add to them, too, in case someone preferred a savory option. Crepes could, in your opinion, get overly sweet.
You caught a smile on James’ face. “This reminds me of times gone by,” he admitted. “When I was a child in England. I used to watch the women in the kitchens preparing food. They’d give me small tasks to do, sometimes. It was,” you watched him search for the right word, “nice. It still is.” He looked over at you, a little blush tinting his cheeks. You felt yourself blushing right back, though you couldn’t say the feeling was unpleasant.
Breakfast was eaten with gusto, and though you’d feared it might be awkwardly silent, the group had a never-ending string of questions. Elizabeth voiced her desire to explore, and you figured it couldn’t hurt to take them back to Manhattan. The world had seen stranger things than supposedly enraptured tourists.
Your friend stopped by with clothes and volunteered to go with you so they could drive you in their van. You were more than thankful for it. You let the group change, smiling to see modern styles on them. Elizabeth was a sight in particular, wearing a lovely little floral dress. The boys looked at her with varying degrees of embarrassment. They weren’t used to seeing ankles, much less knees.
You changed into your own clothes. You almost found yourself looking forward to playing tour-guide. I planned on going back to Manhattan anyway, so why not with some others? You knew it would tire you out a little, but you were growing more and more excited to properly get to know the group. They were some of your favorite characters, after all. This is like a child’s Disneyland dream come true.
The first place you stopped was, of course, Times Square. You wanted the group to see the extent of today’s technology, the overwhelming lights blaring at you from a thousand different screens. There would be a crush of people, as usual, and the towering buildings always made you feel small. You could only wonder at how your group would feel, so new to all these sights and sounds, and so far from home.
Your friend found a parking spot a couple blocks away, and you all slid out of the car onto the concrete. You noticed how Will immediately took Elizabeth’s hand, and how even Jack walked alongside your friend.
“That leaves you with our host, Commodore,” Jack called, clearly amused.
You could see that James was embarrassed, but he offered you his arm all the same. “Shall we?”
Equally embarrassed, you accepted. The two of you strolled arm in arm behind your friend as they led the group into the square. James stopped when you entered, looking up at the ads plastered across screens and billboards, and at the skyscrapers encased in glass. You found the wonder on his face to be enchanting.
“Technology really has progressed,” he managed to stutter. “More than you could ever know.” You looked out at the bright screens promoting movies, musicals, and all different sorts of companies. We changed so drastically in such a short amount of time.
The rest of the group had stopped as well, staring with the same awe and reverence as James.
“I’d been to New York, once,” said James. “We had to stop in for supplies on the Dauntless. It was large then, but now…. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so small.” Color dotted his cheeks.
Ah. He’s a man used to being comfortable in any situation, to being in control. You smiled to yourself. Though maybe not social situations. “It’s nothing like the past,” you agreed. “Though not everywhere is like this. Just big cities.”
“Is London like this?” Elizabeth asked excitedly.
“Very. But all the older architecture has been kept around, so there’s a massive difference in styles.”
“Speaking of styles, we have a cathedral here from the nineteenth century. It might be cool to check that out.”
The group agreed. It was a neat spot, surrounded by skyscrapers, strictly contrasting the modern styles. As you walked back to the car, you passed a group of teenagers. One girl looked up at you and James, smiling. “You’re a cute couple,” she said as she passed by.
You and James both blushed, and you opened your mouths to protest that you were not, in fact, a couple, but she was gone before you could get a word out. Too embarrassed to look each other in the eye, you stared at the ground. When you looked up again, you could see the smirking faces of the rest of the group, your friend among them. Even Will was giving you a little smile.
When you got to the car, Jack hopped in the passenger’s seat as your friend drove. That left you to squish in next to James, and you could tell by the look on Jack’s face that he’d meant for it to happen. Your friend turned the radio on, saving you from having to make awkward conversation. James was pressed right next to you, his thigh and arm against yours, and you fiddled with the bottoms of your sleeves to keep your mind preoccupied. Not that it works. James, too, was using a similar tactic, though you could tell he was acutely aware of your proximity.
Finally, you found a place to park near the cathedral, and you slipped out of the car, thankful to be out of an awkward situation, but missing the warmth of James’ body against yours.
St. Patrick’s Cathedral looked short compared to its neighboring buildings, though you still had to crane your neck up to see the top of the spires. It was heavily decorated in the Neo-Gothic style, and you were sure that most of your group had seen the like before. The Gothic style had been around for centuries, and though the Neo-Gothic style had some of its own features, the two were very much alike.
You toured the cathedral in pairs, walking silently through the echoing nave. “I’ve never been much one for religion,” whispered Jack, “but these churches do command a certain respect.”
That was true enough. Even to the nonbeliever, a cathedral demanded respect and reverence. The air in them was different, somehow, heavier. Every sound was magnified. Every careless footfall echoed throughout the chambers like a rockslide might echo in a canyon.
“It reminds me of England,” James said. “My family used to go to Canterbury for Christmas. The cathedral there was much like this one. Bigger, perhaps, but similar.” He stared with sad eyes up at the arches and stained glass. “It seems so long ago, now.”
You gave his hand a squeeze. “We’ll find a way to get you home.” The words sounded unconvincing, even to your own ears, but James smiled appreciatively all the same.
Your third and final stop of the day was the Statue of Liberty. One of the most iconic pieces in America, you figured the group had to see it. You explained that it was a symbol of liberty and freedom while in the car.
“Freedom?” James asked.
You knew you had to break it to them sometime, and you supposed that now was the best time to do so. “From Britain. We’re not colonies anymore.” Your friend parked the car in a space where you could see the statue from across the water.
“What happened?”
“We had a revolution. Britain was taxing us unfairly, so we decided to start our own country.”
“Avoiding taxes?” Jack grinned, joining the conversation. “Sounds like something a pirate might do, love.”
“It was more complicated than that.” Still, you couldn’t suppress a smile. “It was taxation without representation.”
“If you say so, mate.”
“The world must be very different,” said James. “New borders, new countries. And Britain has probably lost many of its colonies, by now.” He looked sad, worried, even.
“Yes, it has. But it’s still a strong country with a good economy, and is looked to as a world leader. The world may change, but the powers remain, taking power in new ways.”
He nodded. “They always are.”
You returned home afterwards and talked to your friend about what you should make for dinner. They smiled at you. “You should get Norrington to help you. The two of you are adorable, and I think he likes you.” They leaned in. “Besides, I know you’ve had a crush on him ever since you watched those movies.” Your friend winked, leaving you alone to blush as they went on to talk to the group.
When you got to the kitchen, you saw that Jack, Elizabeth, and Will had had much the same idea for James. He stood there, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “Today was lovely.” He looked at you bashfully, and you couldn’t help giving him a small smile back.
“Thank you. I….” You didn’t really have words, so you trailed off into awkward silence, grabbing the ingredients for dinner.
James helped, getting things out of the fridge for you, though he stared at it like it was from an alien planet. To him, it is.
He passed the food to you, but his hand lingered on yours, and you felt yourself blush. You set the food down, turning back to him. Gently, he took your hand in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but clearly couldn’t think of anything.
You stepped forward, a little uncertainly, and kissed him on the cheek. He went red, and so did you. You stepped back, returning to your cooking. He watched, helping where he could, and you settled into a comfortable silence, goofy smiles across your faces.
Living with this group has its upsides, I suppose. James, I think, accounts for ten of them.
#potc#pirate#pirates#pirates of the caribbean#James norrington#norrinton#commodore norrington#modern au#au#fanfic#potc fanfic#x reader#self insert#potc x reader#drabble#drabbles#request#requests#writings
124 notes
·
View notes
Note
Headcanons for the greek gods as omegas?
(I assume you mean as Omegaverse and not for them all to be Omegas cus there’s no way Ares is Omega lol)
This is gonna be the 12(.5) Olympians and the royal couple of the underworld
Zeus: Alpha, a very obvious Alpha. Leader of the Olympian pack. If we're going with the personality he has in the myths then he's the kind of douchebag Alpha who thinks it's his right to go around knotting whoever he fancies; I imagine his pheromones are pretty powerful too. Like, send-you-into-an-surprise-heat kind of powerful. If we're going with how the ancient Greeks actually saw Zeus though he's the absolute best provider. Big dad vibes towards everyone who's even a little bit younger than him (which... y’know, given that he's a god is almost everyone).
Hera: Omega. The kind of Omega that has a dominant, leader's streak; the kind born to be the leader's mate. She has that Omega's need for love and attention (which Zeus really needs to work on giving her smh) and likes to pamper her body (see: pool that she bathes in every night that somehow magically makes her not a virgin anymore... yeah idk either, blame the ancient Greeks). She does, however, lack a natural maternal instinct (see: yeeting baby Hephaestus off of mt. Olympus), so I feel like she could potentially also be a Beta.
Poseidon: Alpha. Originally he was actually the leader of the Olympian pack (no that's not a headcanon - the Macedonians actually considered Poseidon to be the head of the Olympians). I imagine him to be a kind of rugged-looking Alpha - like an strong old fisherman with rough palms and speckled grey hair - with an air of calm and control that can switch to chaotic and aggressive in an instant's notice - like the ocean itself.
Hestia: Omega. Absolutely 100% Omega. The kind of Omega who's very presence makes you feel soothed, her hugs are warm and soft (not just because she always wears fluffy cardigans), her nest is absolute perfection - beautiful, calming to be in, and cosy - and she's always got something divine (if you'll excuse the pun) in the oven. Always purring kin the kitchen. Absolute biggest mama vibes. She smells like a bakery; chocolate and pastry. Holy shit I love Hestia.
Demeter: Alpha. Considered her, perhaps, as an Omega on account of her being a fertility agriculture goddess but she just doesn't strike me as the placating, gentle type. Quite the opposite. She fought stubbornly for her daughter to remain at her side, and she's the goddess of law too - she's not the rolling-over-showing-her-neck type at all. I picture her as an absolute Unit; muscles for days from all the years harvesting crops. The no-nonsense kind of Alpha.
Aphrodite: Omega. The hypersexual kind of Omega. I believe I've seen them called 'Pack Omegas' - the type that do best when they're in a relationship with lots of people, practically (or literally) a whole pack. Also the beauty-obsessed kind of Omega. Takes ten hours to get her clothes, hair, and makeup done yet somehow she turns the whole process into a mesmerising dance. She turns everything into a mesmerising dance. Another I imagine with knock-out strong pheromones that have Alphas falling to their knees for her. She smells like roses.
Athena: Alpha. Another leader-type Alpha - literally has Athens named after her, and she's very proud of her people... despite some of the absolute nonsense she's had to witness from them throughout the ancient years. A very adept and skilled fighter and strategist - likes to know everything about a situation before rushing in. She's an incredibly supportive and wise lead Alpha, the kind that the pack feels they can go to with whatever problem they might have. I feel like she could also easily be a Beta, but she's got such a strong sense of being dominant and in charge it's hard to see her as anything but an Alpha.
Ares: Alpha. Less of a leader-type Alpha, lbr, more of a team player. The kind of Alpha that runs into things without thinking, relying on instinct and, on the battlefield, pure rage. Your average Aggressive Type Alpha who's ready to kill for anyone in his pack. Can come across as a bit of a meat head... and can be a bit of a meat head at times... Yet I imagine him as a really loving, doting mate, which initially surprises a lot of people; seeing this big burly 6ft< Alpha who smells like fire and blood smiling dopily as picks out the perfect dainty jewellery for Aphrodite.
Hephaestus: Beta. My poor poor bastard boy. Very crafty and creative (see: trapping his mother in a beautiful trick throne he built as revenge for yeeting him off the mountain as a baby). Likes to think his creations through and plan genius contraptions. He could very easily also be an Alpha, what with the fact he's a blacksmith, which is a rather Alpha job. But I guess I lean towards Beta because, even though he's a bit of a social outcast on account of his leg and general appearance, he's clearly desperate to be more socially involved with the pack and doesn't want to be a lone wolf.
Artemis: Alpha. Surprisingly nonsexual for an Alpha. Very much a lone wolf. Loves spending her days out in the forest. You wouldn't think she's an Alpha to look at her, but she'd surprise you with how strong she is. Also very good at using her opponent's strength against them. Because of her build, she's considered the protector of Omegas; most Omegas would feel very safe in her presence. She's got this mysterious edge to her that just uncontrollably draws you in... like the moon.
Apollo: Omega. Ah, sweet darling disaster bisexual... I just imagine him being very soft and sensitive (not that he can't kick ass on a battlefield, see: his involvement in the battles of the Iliad). He has an artist's soul and an angel's voice. His serenades are totally his courting gifts. I imagine him revelling in being doted on, and always eager for fuss and attention. He has a beautiful Omegan frame, and he loves decorating himself in luxurious garb and crowns of flowers and leaves. He smells like laurel and somehow also sunshine. No one knows how this is possible but he does.
Hermes: Beta. And nooo I'm not just saying that because he's my favourite and that's the dynamic I best identify with (>_>) He really is such a Beta though. I've a headcanon that Beta's love travelling and exploring and he's literally the God of that so y'know. He's also so quick thinking and witty: represented himself in a what was basically a godly court case where he was guilty of thievery and won when he was literally a baby. He's hardly ever submissive to anyone but he hardly ever uses aggression or physical force to get his way/get out of trouble. He smells like ripe strawberries and the metallic tinge of coins.
Dionysus: Beta. The eccentric, outgoing, party type Beta; wants to be surrounded by friends having a good time all the time. He smells like booze; in the morning it's a little off-putting, but in the evening its literally intoxicating. I imagine his mortal Maenads needing only his scent to drive them into a frenzy. Not the kind of Beta you'd expect to also have the Supportive Beta streak, but he absolutely does; he lives to support his friends and gives the kind of advice you don't realise is advice at first and later hits you like an epiphany, and it was exactly what you needed to hear.
Persephone: Beta. Difficult one, but I had to go with Beta because she strikes me as a very gentle, delicate goddess of spring that could easily have her classified as Omega, but in winter she's the no-nonsense, dominant queen of the underworld that could have her classified as an Alpha. Overall, I think this shows her adaptability, which is a very Beta trait. Also, she's not really as needy and dependent as an Omega traditionally is. Things might have happened to her beyond her control, but she very much took back control and has both Hades and Demeter wrapped around her little finger. Of course, she smells like pomegranates, and spring blossom.
Hades: Omega. I have such a soft spot for soft!Hades. But he's kind of the reverse of Artemis in that you would not think to look at him that he's an Omega, you'd assume he's an Alpha, especially considering his position as ruler of the underworld. But he's a softy at heart, and adores material possessions (which I consider a bit of an Omegan trait). He mopes all the way through spring and summer at the lack of Persephone's presence, cooped up in his nest the whole time until autumn rolls around and she comes back into his life. He has a very earthy scent.
bonus:
Hermaphrodite: All three! Thought I'd include Hermaphrodite because they flashed through my mind and I wondered what might be classified as intersex in a/b/o. Of course, that depends on how you hc biology for the dynamics but I thought what would perhaps make Hermaphrodite an outcast/outlier could be their body, scent, and instincts being a mix of all three dynamics.
thanks for the ask 💞
#omegaverse#a/b/o#alpha/beta/omega#oemgaverse dynamics#a/b/o dynamics#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#omegaverse headcanons#a/b/o headcanons#alpha/beta/omega headcanons#greek mythology#greek gods and goddesses#omegaverse theoi#a/b/o theoi#omegaverse greek gods#a/b/o greek gods#long post#ask#anonymous#mine#does hermes know i would take a bullet for him??#probably actually. he'd probably let me take the bullet as he sipped a juice box
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love After the Fact Chapter 1: Binary Stars
Neither Keith nor Lance want anything to do with what’s about to happen, but neither of them have a choice.
First Next
“I want my knife back.”
“Perhaps you can talk to the prince about it.”
Keith shifts awkwardly. He’s uncomfortable. These Altean clothes are so stiff. He can hardly bend his spine. That's reportedly the point, which is horrifying in its own right. How is he to fight if he can hardly move?!
He inspects the heavy, gold-stitched clothes. The Altean who dressed him had made massive fuss over his refusal to wear the gloves. The argument had ended when Keith had let them put the stupid things on, then immediately extended his claws, effectively ruining them. The Altean had been very upset. Keith doesn’t care. They took his knife, so he needs his claws. If something as silly as gloves ruins the ceremony, it's on them. Not him.
He has much bigger problems you worry about.
“You know,” Shiro began, leaning up against the far wall opposite. “You didn’t have to be mean. They were only trying to help. Gloves are part of the ceremony.”
“They insulted my gender. They deserved it.”
“They didn’t understand.”
“I’m a man. It’s not hard to understand.”
“You do have an... unusual arrangement. By their standards.”
“And look where that’s got me. Being traded like a choice cut of meat.” Keith sighs, leans against a pillar. Time was, his ‘arrangement’ would have given him the undeniable right to choose his mate. Now, it makes him a commodity.
Times have changed.
“It won’t be so bad,” Shiro murmurs. The large Galra pushes himself off the opposite wall, lays a hand on his shoulder. “The Prince is... eccentric. But he’s held in fond regard by his people.”
“Yes, because the money he spends in brothels keeps this planet in gold.” Keith’s ears wilt. “I suppose it hardly matters.”
Keith’s tail curls on the floor. He’s not ready for this. He’s still about a decaphoeb from maturity. He’s just a kit. He has no desire to mate, or even find one. He still sleeps in a den with his mother! Or he would, if she were here.
“Shiro, I-” Keith breaks off. He knows there’s nothing Shiro can do for him. The poor captain can’t stop this, can’t protect him, can’t change anything. He tries to keep his fear to himself.
It doesn’t work, of course. Shiro knows him too well. The large Galra pulls him into an embrace, warm and kind. Keith nuzzles into it, purring as he wraps his tail around one of Shiro’s ankles.
“It’ll be okay, Keith. I promise. I’ve asked around. The prince is a good man. I think he will be good to you. Or, you know, we’ll kill him and blow up the planet.” Keith laughs weakly. He knows his adoptive littermate means it. Shiro really will kill this silly, perverted prince if Keith comes to any harm.
“Keith.” Keith turns, finds the emperor standing there, arm-in-arm with his mate, Honerva. “Wife,” as the Alteans call it. “We will be entering in a few minutes. Please prepare yourself. Do you remember what you must say?”
“Y-yes.” Keith lets out a nervous chirp, a vestige of his childhood not yet quashed by his first season. His ears twitch with embarrassment and he clenches his jaw as he threatens to chirp again, announcing his discomfort, seeking help from his pack.
Emperor Zarkon frowns, though not necessarily disapproving. Probably more sad. He only has one child, and he’s already given him up for this supposed alliance. Keith is resolved, despite his fear, to bear the rest as his emperor wishes. As his people need.
Shiro’s hand finds his shoulder. The large Galra leans down. “It will be alright. I’m right here. If they try anything, we’ll rip them apart and I’ll take you right back to our den.” Keith nods. Shiro’s offer is likely what he wishes would happen. Shiro doesn’t want this for him. No one would. Not Galra, at the very least.
All of the full-grown Galra in his presence (all two and a half of them) would much rather protect him from this than offer him up. But here they are.
Keith glances to Princess Allura, who’s chatting happily with her husband. Romelle wasn't well enough for traveling at the moment. They're happy. He doubts he’ll get that lucky and find friendship with his own prince.
“We’d best line up,” Zarkon murmurs. “We’ll be called any minute.”
Keith takes a deep breath and unwraps his tail from around his brother’s ankle. He has to let go.
He prepares himself for a fight unlike any other.
Lance heaves a sigh, fiddling with the sleeves of his garb, with the long, gossamer fabric attached to his stiff clothes at the shoulders and wrists. The gold chains crossing from his waist on the right to his left hip chime as he moves. He resists the urge to roll his painted lips, settling instead for twisting the bracelets on his wrist.
He resolutely ignores the courtiers hovering on either side of the long carpet dividing the throne room. They whisper, spreading rumor, gossip, utter lies, and general nonsense among themselves. Nothing new there.
“Prince Lancel, please do not sigh when you meet Lord Yorak. In fact, please do not sigh at all for the rest of today.” Lance glances to his father, standing next to him on the royal dais. “I understand your position, truly, and I am grateful to you for agreeing to this arrangement, but please behave.”
“It’s not like I had much choice, Father.”
“You and your sister both had a choice.”
“It wasn’t a choice!” Lance hisses, turning back to face the throne room, all of his bitterness falling away as quickly as it rose. The courtiers murmur and gossip in the background. “Either marry a stranger or risk our peoples falling back into war. What kind of a choice is that?”
“It is a choice, dear son, that not all would find as easy as you did.” Lance agrees with that. The Altean high court is full of fools and fops who will do anything for their planet... unless it inconveniences them. “We’ll have to be careful of him. We can only hope that he is of good intent-”
“We must ensure that he is safe, as well,” Lance interrupts. “He will be in danger while he is within our planet’s boundaries. At least until we can find a way to endear him to the people.” A heavy hand finds Lance’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He lifts his gaze to find his father looking down at him, eyes gleaming with rare pride.
“Well done, son.” Alfor finally smiles. “Your mother would be proud, and your fathers are.” Lance bows his head, the gold chains dangling from the cuffs in his ears tinkling as he moves. His body feels heavy. Alfor’s praise is hard to come by, and Lance is far from perfect. Granted that’s partially intentional, but still.
A side door opens and Coran hurries up the dais. “My love, they are ready. They will be in shortly. Lance, your hair.” Coran gently removes Lance’s circlet, carefully rearranges Lance’s wavy white hair. “Are you ready for this?”
Lance shakes his head, fear taking his voice momentarily. Coran carefully replaces the circlet, fussing with his hair a bit more, straightening his clothes, rearranging the gold chains, inspecting his face, the lining around his eyes, the paint on his lips. Lance lets his step-father reach out to his quintessence. He allows Coran to feel all of his fear and sadness and anxieties. His resolve.
He feels Coran pour a little of his own quintessence into him, making his hair a bit more lustrous, skin glistening with life, the scales on his cheeks (and everywhere else) glowing a soft blue. It’s one of Coran’s silent ways of showing his care, ensuring his son is the most beautiful thing there. Lance loves the man for it.
“Everything will be alright, son. Don’t you worry. And if it’s not, we’ll crack a few heads and call it a day-”
“Coran, please,” Alfor practically begs, even as fondness edges its way in. Lance smiles. He barely remembers his mother, Melinor. He only knows her through what his family has told him. For as long as he can remember, Coran has been his second parent. His fathers have a great dynamic, always loving. But Alfor often ends up being the disciplinarian since Coran doesn’t have a hard bone in his body.
“Right. Yes. We will do the diplomatic version of cracking heads.” Coran reaches back to pinch his husband’s rear. Lance laughs, giving his step-father a brief hug. He knows the man can still sense his maelstrom of feelings. “Even though it’s much less fun... He’ll be presented any minute now, so-” Coran kindly leads him to his throne, to Alfor’s right, gently guiding his unsteady footsteps. All the silly gold on his clothes, wrists, and ears jangle and chime as he moves. “All you have to do is be your usual, stunning self. Everything else will come with time.”
Lance looks up at his step-father. He knows what Coran means, but he still has his doubts. The dark-eyed man smiles, then hurries to take his place to Alfor’s left.
He stares at the double doors, waiting to meet the man he's expected to spend his life with. The throng of fools whispers with rising excitement, and Lance's heart swells with fondness.
He loves these silly little people. He'd do anything for them. Even this.
#LoveAftertheFact#LAtF#klance#galtean au#altean lance#galra keith#adashi#altean adam#galra shiro#voltron legendary defender#vld
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Big Day Part 1
Pairing: Joe Anaoi X Reader (Roman Reigns X Reader)
Synopsis: Although Joe hasn’t kept the destination a surprise, he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve, and one knocks the Y/N off her feet.
Warnings: Nothing. Just fluff and mention of a bad childhood.
Who the hell uses an alarm on vacation? I thought to myself as Joe’s phone beeped until he grabbed it and stopped the alarm. He rolled over and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in until we were spooning. As he settled back down, Joe grumbled for a second before quickly remembering what day it was and popping up excitedly. “C’mon babe. We’ve got big plans today.” Joe hopped out of bed quickly and tried to pull me up. Just as I was going to protest, there was a knock on the door.
“Out of bed, sleepyheads!” Dwayne yelled out. “Vanessa is here, Joe.”
Joe called out, “Do you ever sleep, dude?” We heard Dwayne laugh. “Be out in a minute.”
We quickly got dressed and were getting ready to join the others when Joe wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to a stop. I turned around to see what he wanted. “Now,” he kissed the tip of my nose. “Today, we are going to a Samoan Independence Day celebration, and you’re going to need a traditional, Samoan dress. Vanessa and Lauren are going to take you to a special store to get it.”
I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know Vanessa was here, and I’d only met her once. I knew the Samoan Independence Day was a big celebration. That must be the reason Vanessa, Dwayne and Joe came here. “Is this some sort of reunion?”
Joe nodded, “Yes. In our family, Independence Day is also a time to return to the land of our ancestors to reconnect to the land and each other.” I accepted his answer, but something was still off. He wasn’t telling me everything, but I trusted him. “They’re going to take you shopping now, and then we will meet you back here so we can get ready to go to the celebration.”
=============================================================
I’m not sure what I expected. The words “family reunion” conjured up a picture of people huddling in pavilions of parks with plastic tablecloths flopping in the wind and tacky matching t-shirts. Honestly, I’d never been to a family reunion, but this wasn’t what I expected to see.
We’d parked in a church parking lot and made our way to a giant house across the road, but instead of going in, we went around the side. As the party came into view, I was blown away. The ocean was just a couple hundred yards away from the house. A tent large enough to house a small village was set up in the middle with a small temporary stage under it. Another gargantuan tent was filled with tables, and food, set up in a buffet style. More giant tents dotted the beach between the house and the ocean. There was beauty everywhere. Honestly, it looked like a luau. Tiki torches, floral leis, rattan, flower arrangements on the tables and people dressed in everything from traditional Samoan clothing to shorts and t-shirts. There had to be at least 100 people there, and I’m pretty sure we were in someone’s back yard.
“Um. I forgot to bring a dish.” Joe admitted.
Dwayne put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I got ya covered.” He passed Joe to go greet people and called behind him, “We bought the pigs. You owe me $400.”
Joe put his hand on the small of my back chuckling, and explained that in Samoan culture, you never show up to a gathering empty handed.
“It’s Fa’a.” I smiled at him, and he looked surprised. “I’ve been researching Samoan customs since we got together.”
He grinned in delight. “Are you ready?” I wasn’t elated at the prospect of being around this many people, but I nodded yes. Joe kissed my forehead before we walked toward the party.
=============================================================
“Leati!” Joe’s dad greeted us with a surprised look. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He wrapped Joe in a giant hug.
“Thought I’d surprise you.” Joe beamed at the older man. “I brought a few people with me.”
“Dwayne!” Sika said as he hugged the bigger man. “Where’s your family?”
Dwayne called out to Lauren and she walked our way. “Lauren is here, and my daughters will be here soon.” His daughters would be here soon? I didn’t know that. “They’re coming with mom.”
Sika and Lauren greeted each other, and then the older man’s eyes fixed on me. “Leati, you’ve brought a young lady?” There was a deeper meaning to the way he said it.
Joe’s face lit up in the brightest smile, and he leaned over to whisper to his dad, who nodded back. Joe turned to me and introduced me. “Dad, this is Y/N.”
“Y/N, this is my dad Sika and stepmother Patricia.”
I gave them the warmest smile I could, even though Joe was keeping a secret from me. “It’s an honor.” I shook hands with them.
“Vanessa is here, and mom is coming today too.” Joe explained, and as he did Sika’s eyes got wider.
“We’ll have a fine time.” He smiled at me.
We stayed close to Sika and his wife as we ate, and that allowed me to relax and get used to everything. We didn’t start mingling until Joe was sure I was ready. He really was the sweetest.
=============================================================
We spent the first few hours talking to everyone. I knew I wouldn’t be able to remember everyone’s names, but Joe assured me it was ok. It didn’t take long though, before everyone knew my name. I gathered this was the first time Joe brought a date to this.
We ate, drank, talked, played with kids, and laughed. A variety of music played over a speaker system I couldn’t see; both what I’m guessing was traditional Samoan to current R&B hits and everything in between. There was a lot of laughter and good times. Everyone was so welcoming, that my normal social anxiety began to fall away.
As the party went on, more and more people arrived, including Dwayne’s daughters and Joe’s mom. I gave up trying to count. There were people everywhere. Children played freely, watched by all the adults. The elderly were waited on hand and foot, and everyone was having a great time.
The sun was low on the horizon when everyone took their seats. On the stage was a row of chairs with a larger, throne type seat in the center. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but there was an energy running through the crowd.
Joe guided us to a table off to the left side of the stage, and we waited as the guests settled down, some at tables, some on blankets laid out in the sand. “Vanessa,” Joe pointed to the other side of me. “Sit here, please.” She did and Joe’s mom sat on the other side of her. “Vanessa is an expert on Samoan culture and is way better at the language than me, so I’ve asked her to translate and explain the show for you.”
I turned and thanked Vanessa before asking, “What did he have to trade for your services tonight? She and I both laughed.
“Tickets to Super Bowl,” she answered.
“Nice!”
Men in traditional Samoan garb got on stage, and drums began to pound, bringing cheers and applause from the crowd. The men on stage lined up into two rows and began to dance. Vanessa leaned toward me, “They’re starting tonight’s program with a Fa'ataupati or Samoan slap dance said to have evolved from the moves involved in slapping away mosquitoes.”
=============================================================
We sat enjoying drinks as the show went on. Three dances later, and the seats on stage began to fill up with elders of the family. Vanessa translated as the high priest prayed for the island, it’s people and the state of the family.
3 young men and one young woman all in traditional clothing took the stage and lit batons on fire. Vanessa explained that in the past Samoans were explorers, who brought light and love to islands around the South Pacific, and the family honored them by sharing their light with us. The performers were amazing, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them, but as they began to throw fire batons to each other, I was mesmerized.
After the dances, everyone calmed down. The high chief sat on the throne type seat and greeted the crowd. Vanessa translated the whole thing. He began reciting the history of the family from generations ago until now. I listened intently while Vanessa translated. I’d done a lot of research on Samoan culture, but there was no way I could find out the history of the family, so I drank in every bit of information I could. After his opening speech, the dancers did 2 more dances.
The High Chief stood and addressed the crowd again. “It is tradition in our family that when a Samoan warrior finds his mate, the couple shall come to the elders of our family for a blessing on the union. Each elder will talk to them and counsel the high chief. After the elders, a witness can advocate for the couple. Then the chief takes that counsel and decides if the union will be blessed.” The high chief called a name out, and a young Samoan man dressed in traditional garb came to stand before the chief. He spoke a few words in Samoan, and then the chief called out another name. I watch as a stunning Samoan woman in traditional dress came forward, joining both hands with the man standing before the chief. She spoke a few words in Samoan. “What did the couple say?” I whispered to Vanessa. “They are declaring their love, much like wedding vows. Each person writes their own.”
Next, an older woman came to stand next to the couple. She looked just like the young lady, leading me to believe she was probably the woman’s mom. She placed her hands on the couple’s and spoke. Vanessa translated, “My beautiful daughter has grown to womanhood, and is ready to become a wife and mother. I am proud of the woman she has become, and Rangi has been a blessing to her. I feel this union will strengthen the family. I beseech the elders and our high priest to bless this union.”
The chief dramatically pondered, finally raising a staff like stick and pounding the bottom against the ground 4 times. The whole party erupted in rowdy cheers and applause. Immediately, two young girls no older than 6 or 7 came forward with leis they placed on the couple.
Then the chief came forward. He wrapped another lei across the couple’s hands. He laid his hands over theirs and began to speak. Vanessa was quick to translate, “The chief says that the elders of the tribe have observed the couple, and feel that the union will be a blessing to the family, and it is his honor to bless the union.” She paused for a second as she listened to him speak before smiling and saying, “As a family, it is our responsibility to mentor and counsel this couple as they journey through life. It is the family’s responsibility to help them raise the next generation of Samoans. He’s asking the tribe to pledge their support. I listened as the whole crowd recited something.
Finally, at a quiet word whispered by the chief, the couple kissed. Without warning, the young man knelt at the foot of the lady, catching a ring box tossed to him by a member of the family, and although I couldn’t hear them, I could tell he proposed. Her hands flew to her face and his smile lit up the whole party as she said yes.
Everyone went wild. There was applause, wild war cries and stomping and loud drums. After a few minutes, the chief banged his staff against the floor, causing everyone to settle down. “Settle down. Settle down. We will celebrate in a bit, but we have more business to handle.” I don’t know if I was more shocked that he was speaking English or that he was able to take control of the rowdy crowd so easily.
As the crowd took their seats again, he began speaking Samoan again. Vanessa translated, “It is our responsibility to care for those who are alone. I have been alerted that there is an orphan who is seeking admittance into our family. Please make your presentation.” Joe rose and took place in front of the chief. He began speaking Samoan, and this time Vanessa didn’t translate. Wait! Was he? Was he talking about me? Joe wanted me to join the family? Before I could even think about everything that meant, the chief called my name.
“Y/N. Please come stand by Leati.” He said in English. I did, feeling a bit of my social anxiety again, but when he took my hands and stared in my eyes, I relaxed. “Leati, you have asked that the counsel consider accepting this orphan into our family. Y/N,” the chief turned to me. “Have you parents to care for you.” The question was weird. I’m an adult… not a child, and yet, the answer was no. “Members of the family have observed you. Who in our family would like to accept Y/N?”
I was shocked as Joe’s father stood. I hadn’t noticed he was seated on the stage. He was an elder. Behind Joe, I saw his sister, Dwayne and Lauren stand. Then I noticed others standing. I scanned the room to find Joe’s mom, The Fatu brothers and Naomi, who I didn’t know were here, all standing as well as many of the people I’d met today. I hadn’t even seen The Fatus arrive. My heart swelled as the high chief smiled at me. “Y/N, it seems there are a number of family members who wish you to join our family. “Elders, what say you?” He turned to face the row of seats behind him. Answering one at a time, each member said “Ioe.”
Joe smiled at me and said, “That means yes.”
I was all smiles now. This show of support was beyond heartwarming. “Y/N. Our family is offering to accept you as one of our own, to care for you when needed, to support you when warranted and to love you unconditionally. Will you accept our invitation?”
“Ioe.” I answered and the crowd got rowdy again. The applause was drowned out by the cheers.
When the chief settled the crowd, Joe looked expectantly at him. “Leati has also asked for a blessing on this relationship. Do the elders agree to this blessing?
I listened as each one said “Ioe.”
“And who among the family will stand up for this couple? Suddenly a chorus of voices rang out yelling “Ioe. Ioe. Ioe.” I looked to find the Fatu families yelling the loudest, and I smiled sweetly at them. Sika stood, coughing to get the attention of the Chief, before saying, “Ioe”.
“Then it is an honor to bless this union.” The two young children came out to put leis on Joe and me before the High Chief laid a lei across our hands and spoke the same words he’d spoken with the other couple.
There was a terrifying moment as I wondered if Joe was going to propose as the first young man had, but when the Chief was done, Joe led me back to our table. Everyone stood for hugs and congratulations. I hugged and thanked everyone for their support. The Fatu families joined us now. “I can’t believe you’re here!” I said as I went to hug Naomi.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” John said to me. “Welcome to the family Sister Uce.”
Joe wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and pulled my body against his chest. “Welcome to the family Sister Uce.” He whispered in my ear.
I turned to face him. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
“This is the family you deserve.” He kissed me softly.
Then I heard a voice I knew, but there was no way….. I found Jimmy had his cell phone pointed at me, and I realized we were in a group chat. Seth, Becky, John Good and Renee were all on the screen cheering me.
“Guys? You knew?” I grabbed the phone.
“Yeah! Dis is w’at we were hidin’ from ya’” Becks laughed.
“Well, you did it. You all really shocked me. Thank you!”
@mindofasagittaruis @lclb13
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt #9: Lush - “Barstool Acolytes.” - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor
“The logic of avoiding “up well” leverage proved valid enough. The doctrine of Three Degrees was Benjimir’s most basic tenant. You never, ever present in battle or prior to it a means which you do not already have the means to detect, defend against and defeat. Here, it was also to avoid tipping our hand to foes we had not identified or assessed as yet. That did not mean however we weren’t observed for other reasons which would cost us dearly later on.”
~Bondermir Exidines, “Seven Stars to the Horizon.”
(Revised 9/20 for clarity, spelling and low fat content.)
“So she pushes that antique cart all about the city serving drinks?” Benjimir asked Bondermir as they road the elevator down from the Dapper Mariner.
“Nightly, twice on Saturday’s and festival weeks. She may or may not own the bar, I honestly don’t know. But it is sure as Chocopoo her cart.” Bondermir said as they stepped off the elevator. As they did, a disheveled Miqo’te stumbled past nearly running into them. “Business must be good for that.” Benjimir said as the Miqo’te took a long swig from a bottle in a paper bag. “What a lush.” Bondermir remarked. As they passed the Quicksand bar, Benjimir paused for a moment. Looking at the large doors, Benjimir turned to his brother. “You heading to quarters?” he asked.
“Yes, an hour talking contract terms with the Twinkinrykers takes a lot out of you. You thinking of getting a night cap? Bondermir asked curiously. “An actual drink?” He probed. “Of, you know, liquor?” He ribbed.
Benjimir adjusted his glasses with his middle finger. “People watching, maybe something to wash that down. I’ll see you in the morning.” Benjimir told his brother. Bondermir smirked, clapped his brother on the shoulder and said “Good luck in there.”
As he approached the doors to the Quicksand they popped open. A Hyur exited with a auburn haired…..or furred, he was still unsure which term to use, Miqo'te woman draped on his side strolled out. Both were oblivious to everything but themselves. Benjimir side stepped them passed through the doors as they began to swing closed. Pausing inside he surveyed the bar.
The Quicksand was like theater in the round. The room was bordered by an elevated concourse along the outside edge of which was hosted the hotel and services desks, bar, and innumerable people perched along a marble railing. The concourse sloped down to the level of a seating area in the middle.
What Benjimir noticed first however was the smell. Pungent. Deeply perfumed from the assembled inebriating masses. The masses were made up of a self mocking mix of extremes vying for one another's attention. There was a rich variety in modes of dress. Scantily clad females of several races, individuals and in groups. Entirely unsubtle males unconvincingly confidant clad in their leather or other machismo garb. Benjimir instantly recognized the patterns of people watching and being watched, the mating rituals, and the scattering of those present for none of it.
He made his way to the entry to the seating area, amused at the sights. The Lalafell woman with her drink cart, painted and inscribed like a childs toy chest with “Super Momo’s Cart!” passed him as she returned for her evenings drink run. Benjimir turned his mind to finding a place to sit.
Benjimir observed most of the other tables hosted more than one party. A couple of people appeared to be alone or apart from the group they sat near. He singled out a female of the Xaela race alone at a large round table, stirring a drink absent mindedly as she gazed around the room Benjimir approached and made a classic if dated gesture of touching his fingers to his chest, lips and forehead.
“May I trouble you to take one of these seat?” Benjimir asked. The Xaela looked up at him impassively but finally offered a polite smile and made a sweeping gesture with the drink mixer.
“They are free to be taken.”
Benjimir sat and looked around a moment. “Is there table service here?” He asked.
“New here?” the Xaela said, ‘Usually you are better served going up to the bar, but wave at Momodi long enough, she’ll get you setup.” she finished.
“The one with the cart, I see.” Benjimir replied turning around and looking for the Lalafell who was returned to her stool at the bar. He began to wave but his attention was drawn back to the Xaela. “So are ya?” the woman said.
“Oh, yes, I am. Never been here before.” Benjimir said. The Xaela allowed for a shallow smile, taking stock of her tablemate seriously now.
“Not a drinker either, are ya?” she asked rhetorically. Benjimir considered for a moment the possibility that this truth might actually be written on his forehead. “No actually.” He offered.
“Yeah, drinkers here know to get a drink before sitting, otherwise you seat goes away. You got a name mister sobriety?” the woman said smirking a bit as she resumed stirring her drink with the mixing stick.
Benjimir was unsure if he was entertainment to his tablemate or being preemptively setup to be shot down. The thought restored his focus as he realized the woman was a Xaela, few here in Ul’Dah and he knew very little of their race.
“I apologize, I’m Benjimir Thursby.” He said.
“Orbei.” Benjimir’s tablemate replied mater of factly and continued on without pause. “So where you from Benjimir originally, beyond ‘not here. What brings ya here?” Orbei asked.
At the table next to Benjimir and Orbei sat an auburn hued Miqo’te woman. Either from Orbei’s voice carrying or the momentary lull in chatter about the room she took notice of the conversation.
“Good to know you Orbei. I’m new to these shores, not really from anywhere really, I was….” he paused a fraction of a second, “born at sea.” Momodi passed and came to the table. She took a drink order from Benjimir for what essentially was a mineral water with fruit punch mixed in, Orbei ordered “her usual.”
“I am the chief of a trade and mercantile company. Business brings me to Eorzea. Curiosity to the Quicksand. I feared I’d miss something if I didn’t come here at least once.” He said.
Orbei nodded. “I see. So tell me Benjimir,” she leaned forward, “do ya fear death?” She said. Benjimir paused but responded. “Death is but a new lifes dawn.” Orbei smiled and nodded approvingly.
“Touche, very nice. Usually that scares people, but they normally have a few drinks in them. Not gonna pull that off with you I think.” Orbei said, amused and pleased she was not in the company of another dreg seeking what she was not offering. Benjimir, feeling the banter being on an even basis now took a discreet look over Orbei. Black horns, dark blue skin. She was a follower of the Dusk Mother, which was maybe as much as he knew with certainty. They could be found only sparingly, along with the kindred race, the Raen. The passenger manifests had shown him few were traveling by way of air or sail ship either with Maelstrom or the company fleet.
Orbei was quick to pounce on the minor pause and Benjimir’s look, more inquisitive than salacious she noted. “I’ma Thaumaturge, we do stuff and things, worship Thal. They have Thaumaturges at sea?” she asked.
“Maybe by another name. Do all of you people worship Thal?” Benjimir asked. The red Miqo’te at the adjacent table perked her ears as he spoke. Now she edged her chair about some to see the man she was eavesdropping on.
“Oh, pity. I study at the Arrzaneth Ossuary. Everybody there honors Thal. So you were born at sea, that make you a Hy-sea or something?”
“I don’t know really, just a man, of the race of men. Your one of those Xaela, are all your people hued as you are? I’ve not met one before.” Benjimir said.
The Miqo’te’s ears twitched.
“Not a lot of us here so far. I knew a few when I first came. Some of us are this color, others not. Lots of different people at the Ossuary though.” Orbei answered and continued. “Thal is the god of death and darkness. Ya didn’t really answer my question though, do ya fear it?”
“I don’t see reason to fear it. Regret it maybe. Every people have their myths and faiths about life, death, gods. People are entitled to what they choose to believe.” Benjimir said. The Miqo’te rose from her seat and as she walked toward the table. Orbei chuckled at her approach. The female whipped the chair between Benjimir and Orbei around and saddle rode it she put her drink on the table. With a stern glare she spoke to Benjimir.
“You people, those people, all you people. What makes you ‘ayfaluten’ Hyur-at-sea-or-whatever types blow into Ul’Dah and start riding down anybody with a tale or whose under the table tall?” the Miqo’te laid into Benjimir. Orbei suppressed a snicker.
Benjimir smiled politely if with a slight of sarcasm and with slightly portion of it asked the Miqo’te, “I’m anything but rich, thank you, I have never met any of Orbei here’s race, or your own, whom I’m honoring by acknowledging as a people. And whom in whatever your own people call hell are you by name to presume it is your affair?” The nearby tables and people lounging on the concourse rails above discreetly took notice and gave ear to exchange.
The Miqo’te was taken aback for a moment. Orbei took the opportunity to introduce her friend. “This is Smathlyn. She’s a Miqo’te…...no horns.” she said and pointed to her own black horns.
Benjimir nodded in acknowledgement. Smanthlyn continued, if with a hair more restraint. “We get enough Hyurs coming into Ul’Dah, all rich from cashing in on the calamity, taking over farms, selling stuffs and things for a months pay. They come about here, treating Lalas, Miqo’te, all of us that aren’t all cute skinned and super-boobed like bad waiters. Poke’n fun at our gods.” She finished and took a sip of her drink. Orbei leaned forward and spoke.
“Smathlyn’s sorta our mother hen here. She doesn’t suffer fools in nice cloths.” she said. Orbei looked at Smathlyn “He wasn’t offending just asking. And his cloths aren’t that nice.” Smathlyn listened but continued to cast a skeptical eye on Benjimir.
Benjimir looked down at his clothes. “Thanks. And I’ve spent my life at sea and far from this place. I wouldn’t know a Miqo’te from a Xaela until it was pointed out to me. As for your god, I honor it. Never get between a person and their faith, nothing good can come of it. And I’ve my own spirituality. Orbei and I were just talking and she was being nice enough to teach me a thing or two. Learning about other ways adds to my appreciation of my own” Smathlyn looked over to Orbei who nodded and stared back at her friend.
“Well alright then. If Orbei says so. If you are wanting to learn something then you should visit the Ossuary, it is a place of peace and meditation.” Smathlyn said. “You going tonight Orbei?” she asked her friend.
“Figuring’n too. You want to come Benjimir the non-aflu’nt?” Orbei said and asked, turning to Benjimir.
“Ladies. It would be my honor, pleasure and education.” Benjimir said.
*******
Authors note. This was a fictionalized but inspired entry based on my very first night RP’ing in FFXIV, when Benjimir went to Quicksand, struck up a conversation and a bystander actually misstook what I said and launched into me. For a month people there remembered the discussion. It actually proved an amazing night of RP. Names have been changed because, well, I can’t remember who it was. But hey, good times.
#ffxiv#ffxivwrite#ffxiv write#ffxivwrite2019#ffxivwrite2020#crystal rp#FFXIV crystal#ff14 FFXIV#ffxiv crystal dc#ffxiv rp crystal#crystal dc#crystal-rp-ffxiv#ffxiv balmung#scionsofnumenor#yvainethorneathidrial#tessariel-aerlinn#sonsofnumenor#fanfiction#ffxivwriters#ffxiv writers#ffxivfanfiction
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Undertale choose your Adventure
A Crack Story, Originally written and posted on Wattpad. Dream was on a walk.. and then it went weird.
So originally as said, was posted on Wattpad where at the end of each chapter there was a set of Votes. The Story finally finished but you can still find the original stuff on Watt. Here is the completed version minus the votes. If you want to join in future Adventures, please keep an eye on my wattpad account under the same name.
It was a beautiful day in the multiverse, singing flowers blooming birds... no they actually were.
Its not a misprint.
And a Skeleton was making there way through the area.
Dream Thought it was a beautiful day.
No battles.
His brother wasn't causing issues, and Ink for once wasn't driving him up the wall.
Nothing could make this day go badly.
Then he saw someone ahead.
Standing there was Error, The Destroyer.
Ink rival..
Dream was on his own, and his attacks would only do so much.
So... what if he changed what he did.
Taking a deep breath Dream walked towards the destroyer, who was apparently snacking on chocolate.
"Hey good looking," Dream said with an easy grin.
Error blinked and looked at the gold garbed skeleton.
"What are you on Dream?" Error asked.
"Who said I was on anything," he purred back.
Error glitched a bit more then usual.
"What's Inky's plan now," he growled.
"Just my plans," Dream said leaning up.
Chu
Error fell down with a thud as Dream kissed him.
"Um..." Dream said as Error started rebooting.
"Get away from him Dream!" a voice growled.
And there was Nighty, looking as evil and goopy as always.
"Aw come on, he might be evil but at least he's cute and has a soul. Why do you always stop be from getting a boyfriend!" Dream pouted stamping his foot.
"Because your an immature idiot and think Ink for brains is a good choice half the time," Nightmare replied smugly.
Meanwhile Error had rebooted and hid in the bushes.
"No way! He just wants me for emotions! So let em have Error!" Dream cried.
"No way! Do you know how hard it was to get to the friend zone! I have to make it to the boyfriend zone next!" Nightmare snarled.
"So we both want him!" Dream said drawing his bow and arrows.
Error ate popcorn in the bushes.
It was nice to be wanted.
"We'll decide in a battle!" Nightmare called.
They leapt forward, attack on attack...
And somehow created a pentagram shape.
And activated it.
And Blinked.
"Blue?" Dream asked bewildered, as the other star sans seemed to appear in the pentagram.
"Wasn't I just making Tacos?" Blue said looking around a tray of food in his hands.
"I knew it!" Nightmare cried pointing at Blue.
"Knew what?" Dream asked.
"I knew Blue had to be secretly evil!" Nightmare yelled dramatically.
Error fell over laughing in the bushes, scattering his popcorn everywhere.
"Its is something I'm wearing?" Blue asked looking down at his clothing.
"EVIL!" Nightmare hissed.
"Brother... I'm sure this is a misunderstanding," Dream sighed, trying not to think of the weird thing Blue did.
"EVIL!" Nightmare cried.
"Can you guys send me home, the ovens still on," Blue asked with a sigh.
"He has to be evil, because he made friends with Error!" Nightmare protested, Blues eye twitched.
"That's jut the power of friendship, after all your Error's friend," Dream pointed out smugly.
"EVIL!" Nightmare ylled which was starting to get annoying.
"SEND ME HOME NOOOOOW!" Blue said in a warped voice an Error symbol appearing in one eye, the twins eeped and hugged each other.
When no return summon had happened, Blue got mad.
"So your just going to cry like babies," he said, voice still warped.
"Run you fools," Error said from his spot.
"Ha ha ah, I'm sure we'll be alright.. were friends right?"Dream asked nervously.
"We're going to die," Nightmare shivered.
"I'm sure it will be fine, after all Blue.. was the most innocent one right?" Dream said shivering.
Right?
Multiverse...
Stars darn it.. why did the multiverse only 4th wall break for Blue.
"Well then... I'm guessing you both need punishment," Blue giggled a bit insanely, voice glitching even more.
White bones shifted, Errors appeared around his body.
"Why aren't you running yet?" Blueberror smiled, voice fully glitched like Error now.
Only for a Taco to land in his hands.
Nightmare and Dream stared.
It was a fully cooked fresh taco.
"Oh! A Taco!" Blueberror said, and ate the Taco.
Magically he seemed to turn back into normal Blue.
"Your just not you when your hungry Blue," Error said, putting away his 'In case of Blueberror box' back into its magical hiatus.
"Thanks Error," Blue said all smiled and sparkles.
"Evil..." Nightmare whimpered.
"Soo... whats going on?" Blue asked putting his tray into magical space.
"Wait a minute," Blue said, eye lights blazing "Were you asking out my Error on a date!"
"Your Error?" Dream said faintly.
Nightmare looked ready to have an Error type crash.
"Of Course! We've been dating for years," Blue said happily.
"You did get the wedding invites right?" Error asked confused as he stood beside Blue.
"Wedding..." Dream said wild eyed.
"Invitations!" Nightmare squeaked.
"After all I don't share, Error's mine," Blue said with a wicked grin.
Error smiled happily.
Ink sulked in the bushes, everyone was having so much fun.
And they hadn't even invited him!
Him.. the Creator!
Why hadn't he gotten an invite to this drama yet, or even the wedding.
"Um... you got invited," a voice said.
"Don't I have any friends," he sniffed.
"Hello?" the voice said.
"He's totally not paying attention," a second voice said.
"Time to forth wall break!" the first said gleefully.
"We're already breaking it!" the second said.
"Time to join the party!" GumdropWolfYT gleefully shouted, as he picked up and Ink and threw him towards the other four skeletons.
ObsessiveFangorl facepalmed and dragged the other away, quickly closing the forth wall behind them.
"Ahhhhhh!" Ink shouted as he went flying
Crash
Fate held up a scoreboard with a 9 out of ten.
Error, Blue, Nightmare and Dream had slammed across the area from Ink who had suddenly bowled them over.
It was clearly a Ten Fate.
Fate?
Fine ignore me.
Hmph...
"Owwww," Blue said, he quickly got up and rushed to Error to press the 'Yes to Reboot' button.
"I see starrrs," Dream giggled clearly knocked over silly.
"I'm sooo done!" Nightmare said, opened a portal and left.
"Wait.. where did Ink go?" Blue said, looking for the resident soulless skeleton.
And Blinked when he spotted him.
"This.. is hilarious!" Reaper laughed taking pictures with his camera phone, he hadn't expected to come across Ink boi embedded into a hill side in a skeleton made crater.
Seconds made a dying sound.
"Hello Reaper!" Blue said happily, from beside the downed Error and Dream.
"Hey Blue, I see the moron was being a moron again," Reaper said.
"Nah, just a badly patched forth breaking," Blue said cheerfully.
"So normal as usual then," Reaper cackled.
Suddenly Reaper paused, and stared.
“Is everything alright Error?” Blue asked, Error groaned and slowly got up.
“Geno..” Reaper whispered.
“Whoever Geno is, can take a number after this migraine,” Error said rubbing his skull.
“No, your Geno!” Reaper said shocked, his mate had vanished eons ago.
One minute there, the next nope.. cya later reality.
“I think I’d know if I was someone else,” Error said, after all Fate had said they’d created them from the anti-void.
Meanwhile Fate was trying to hide from Destiny’s glare.
“Yeah... you know what,” Reaper said with a smile.
“What what?” Blue asked bewildered.
Who was Geno?
“See ya, sorry you’ll have to cancel the wedding as I have I waifu to claim!” Reaper grinned, suddenly beside Error. He grabbed the destroyer who crashed, then both vanished.
“Get back with my Error!” Blue screamed going super sai.... I mean Blueberror and vanishing also.
Dream twitched.
Ink blinked and looked around wondering where everyone went.
If Reaper was anyone else, he’d be biting his fingers in frustration.
He’d found his Geno.
Geno so changed.
Geno.. who clearly didn’t remember him.
Yet... his soul pulsed, he could feel the link between them as soulmates.
What had broken Geno, his wonderful stubborn Geno.
Geno and himself, who had been discussing if they wanted children.
“Can you stop staring at me,” Error said grumpily, they were in Reapertale in Reapers home. Why Error hadn’t left yet, Reaper had bribed him with chocolate.
One of the things that apparently not changed between Error and his past self.
“Sorry... it’s just, I never figured out I’d find you this way,” Reaper said unhappily, after all how did one react to ones mate becoming the destroyer.
“As far as I know, Fate created me as Ink’s counterpart. I’m linked heavily to the Anti-void. If I’m gone to long, I’m pulled back. I don’t know how I can be your Geno,” Error said sipping a giant chocolate milkshake.
“Anyway, you can prove it?” another voice said, Reaper and Error blinked as suddenly as Blue was there eating a Taco at the table.
“How did you get here!” Reaper said shocked, only he himself and Grim should have been able to enter without an invite.
“Technically I’m an error a glitch in the system,” Blue chirped, his form shifting to his other self then back.
Right... Geno use to walk through security like it wasn’t there also.
“And what do you plan to do if you find out he is my waifu?” Reaper asked.
“Well Share him of course, Error is the only one I ever wanted. And at least your cute too, my glitchy error codes would protect me too,” Blue said wickedly.
Reaper and Error blushed heavily.
“Right,” Reaper said shakily... we have a few ways to do this.
“And?” Error asked, interested either way.
“TIME TRAVEL!” TK!Sans shouted appearing in a flash of time travel.
“Out! When I find out how you keep getting in with time magic this better stop!” Reaper said annoyed, stupid time kids.
“Oh! Look at the time. Gotta go!” the time tot said and vanished, leaving Reaper grumbling.
“You were saying?” Blue said giggling.
“I have a gem that sends us back in time, out of phase so no one can see us and we can’t change anything,” Reaper replied. “We go back, tag Geno as he’s taken and follow!”
“Why didn’t you use it in the past?” Error asked.
“You need three people to use it, and every time I get someone to agree they start arguing on where they should go first,” Reaper said dryly.
“Lets do this!” Blue cheered.
“Welp. Lets do this,” Reaper said, pulling a weird grey gem from a shelf.
“How does it work?” Error asked.
“Oh, were already there,” Reaper cackled, and all three of them faded away.
Fate sputtered as her toy vanished.
OoOoO
Three figures appeared with a Zomp sound.
Yes, a Zomp sound.
No were not going to describe it more.
Anyway...
“The world looks grey,” Error said looking around.
“And there is Geno, the day he vanished!” Reaper said pointing to a bloody glitchy skeleton.
“Does this have a speed up option?” Blue asked as Reaper tagged Geno.
“Sure,” Reaper said and slammed the gem into a tree.
“Cool!” Blue chirped as the world sped up.
Suddenly strings zoomed out of nowhere like a lasso yeeted Geno out of the area.
“Not my strings,” Error said, “looks like fates.”
“Right, lets follow!” Blue said, and they quickly followed the tag on Geno.
“The Anti-void!” Error said as they appeared in endless white.
“And there is Geno!” Reaper smirked.
“Hey you, Glitchy boi!” a voice yelled in the voice.
“Yeah you!” the voice yelled as Geno pointed at himself.
“I need a destroyer, you’ll do,” the voice said.
“That’s fate...” Error said dryly.
“Um.. no thanks, I kinda have to tell Reaper something important,” Geno said.
“Who said you got to say no?” Fate asked.
Womp!
A giant hammer fell from nowhere and hit Geno, covering the area with a cloud somehow.
“Um...” Reaper said at the scene.
“...” Error said as the dust cleared.
“Now my minion! Do your job!” Fate cackled.
“Riiight... lets go home,” Blue said sweatdropping.
BOIIIING
“What’s with the weird sounds it makes?” Blue asked.
“No clue,” Reaper said.
“...” Error said.
“Error honey?” Blue asked in concern.
And crashed and rebooted.
“That’s new,” Blue said as the reboot stopped at 99% with a new choice.
‘Download and install Original Data YES/NO’
Blue quickly pressed yes.
“Thank you for choosing The Origination Reincarnation Station, please sit back and relax” a gentle female voice said, then Error exploded.
“What the stars!” Reaper said as they were knocked back.
“Error!” Blue cried.
“And welcome back the migraine,” a voice said, a non glitchy voice.
“Geno babe!” Reaper said happily.
“I need to sit down,” Error.. no Geno said getting up, Reaper quickly helped his spouse to a chair.
“Are.. you still Error?” Blue asked worriedly.
“Yes...” Geno said.
“Good, just because you got your old body isn’t stopping my wedding to you two!” Blue said smugly, the married couple blushed.
“You had news for me... when you vanished,” Reaper asked softly.
“Ah..” Geno said blushing heavier.
“Ohhhh.....” Blue said giggling suddenly.
“I... was kind of pregnant when Fate grabbed me... and still am, now that this body was freed,” Geno said summoning his ecto body, which was quiet far along.
“How did we not notice!” Reaper said in shock.
“ Well... I never summon my ecto body, and my glitched state hid any signs. Also.. I’m half dead and your Death,” Geno said dryly.
Meanwhile Blue started having millions of baby thoughts, Error/Geno was a beautiful Skeleton in both forms. And the three of them would make adorable children, he wondered how long it would take to talk Reaper to get him knocked up too.
“Heh heh heh... Blue said lost in his own head.
“I’m sorry...” Geno whispered holding Reapers hand.
“For what, your alive,” Reaper gently said, he leaned forward and touched there foreheads together.
“But... I cheated on you as Error,” Geno cried.
“Shhh... that doesn’t matter. You had no clue you were anything but what Fate said love. And I can see you truly love Blue too.. he’s not bad, and if that’s the price I pay for you I’ll pay it a million times,” Reaper promised to his teary eyed love.
“It won’t be easy, I’m stil l th e Destroyer. The Error,” Geno said.
“And I’m Death, Death and Destruction go together,” Reaper smirked.
“Idiot,” Geno said.
“And Blue can be the Chaos,” Reaper giggled.
“Crap...” Geno suddenly said.
“Whats wrong?” Blue asked, coming out of his daydreams.
“Well... Its time, guess the baby got tired of waiting eons to be born,” Geno said wincing.
Thump
Reaper had left the building.
Okay fainted.
“Gahhh.... oh my stars!” Blue panicked and ran around like a headless chicken.
Pow
And there was Blue meeting the wall.
“ Why...” he cried through the pain.
OoOoO
The sound of crying.
“Take it easy, your magic will b e over stressed for th e next few weeks,” a voice said, yes.. Sci’s voice.
“ I will, thank you for allowing me here,” Genos voice came.
“No problem, was hilarious to see you rushing in using magic to carry Blue and Reaper,” Sci cackled.
“The Baby!” Reaper said coming fully awake.
“Over here,” Geno said amused.
Apparently there were in at a hospital, Blue was just coming too.
“Reaper.. meet our son,” Geno said happily, held in his arms was a tiny Skeleton with one eye light typical to a sans type.
“He’s perfect,” he said raspy voiced in awe.
“What’s his name?” Blue asked wide eyed.
“I think his proud papa should choose,” Geno said.
“Goth, taking parts of both our names,” Reaper said happily, here he was gettinga happy ending.
Death and his glitch.
Death and Destruction.
With Chaos at the side.
“Hey Geno, next kids mine,” Blue smirked.
Geno sputtered.
Reaper laughed.
“You have quiet the future kiddo,” Reaper told the newborn.
He couldn’t wait to see it.
END
#Undertale#Crack#do not take this seriously#fanfic#Dream#Error#Nightmare#Blue#Ink#Reaper#Geno#afterdeath
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Adorned in Green
Thanks for the ask @sehuntema . Hope that you like it!
Shikamaru leaned against the wall hidden in the shadows scowling annoyed and upset. He was sure that he was supposed to be mingling and promoting unity and peace between the nations and whatever other bullshit a state representative was supposed to do. He couldn’t find any motivation within him to even act interested in such things. His mind was solely focused on the vision of emerald and gold just beyond his reach. When Naruto had told him about Suna's state dinner he was so excited to see his Sand Goddess that he had failed to remember that she was their Sand Princess. Tonight Temari played into that role quite well. She was a dream draped in the finest silks of jade that tried to compete with the green of her eyes. Precious jewels complemented the gold that naturally crowned her head. She was in her element, in a position and place that was worthy of her.
She was regal, gracious and welcoming to people who had come from all over the five great nations. She’d explained to him how important it was for Suna. This was their opportunity to show how much they’d progressed as a nation under Garra's leadership. She also wanted him there as moral support. She was very good at rubbing elbows with these people but hated it all the same. He should be right there next to her whispering words of encouragement but right now he was sulking in the dark.
This was better for both of them because if he had to watch one more Lord, head of state or whoever stare, fuss and fawn over her he would start an international incident.
There was a particular one that was asking for it. He looked like a squid which made sense because he was someone from the Land of Waves. Besides, he looked slimy. He watched as the squid reached up one of his tentacles to touch her exposed shoulder but was stopped in his tracks. Temari turned immediately towards him leveling him a stormy look but Shikamaru wasn’t moved, he was annoyed and upset and he wanted her to know it. The Lord seemed confused about why he was suddenly stopped and Temari took a step back excusing herself. She passed by Shikamaru wordlessly to the balcony. Once she was outside and out of his clutches, he released his shadow causing the Lord to fall forward on his face. He smirked then followed after her.
“That didn’t last long.” Naruto laughed to the redhead Kazekage. They'd been watching this play out for a while.
“Well that particular Lord deserved it. He’s been inquiring about courting her for a while, incessantly, despite Nara’s claim. And the fact that he’s old enough to be our father.”
“It’s been pretty amusing to see all these confused people coming to dead stops around her.” Any person that came within a foot of her that Shikamaru didn’t know found themselves trapped in his shadow jutsu. The Hokage wasn’t sure whether his friend realized that he was doing it or if it was a gut reaction to keep her safe.
“Hopefully once they’re married this will be less of a problem.” Temari could be just as jealous and he'd seen her have some not so friendly conversations with different women all night.
“I doubt it, Hinata and I have been married for a while now but I still find myself sending clones to watch her from the shadows but I'm pretty sure that she knows by now."
They shared a laugh but ultimately Garra was happy for his sister. She’d found someone who would love, care for and protect her, it was the most that he could wish for his sister.
“Want to explain to me why you’re being such an asshole tonight?” Temari demanded the wind whipping around her. Even while in the throes of her anger she was still so dazzling. He’d been rendered completely still and speechless when he’d first seen her that night. He was used to her wearing her regular Shinobi garb. Delicate fabrics wrapped tightly around her, priceless jewels, and exposed skin were overloading his senses. He wanted to tear off that green dress for a number of reasons, but also because it was replacing all his images of her and that would be distracting in his daily life. He'd always known that she was gorgeous with her sandy blonde hair and teal eyes but to have it so highlighted and on display tonight was killing him. It only made him more annoyed that other people got to behold her beauty like this, which was meant only for him.
“Why? Did you want to dance with that guy?” He replied harshly leaning against the wall. He really wished that he could smoke.
She glared at the response. “Are you serious right now? Do you think that I'm enjoying this? I’m Suna’s Princess, this is part of my job. Besides if you weren’t sulking in the corner you could have been right there with me instead of trapping everyone in your shadows like some petty child.”
Surprised she was caught in his shadow and placed against the wall his warm body caging her in. She knew that she had pushed him and that he was upset but a part of her was thrilled to be 'trapped' like this. She could overpower him if she wanted but she was safe and she wanted to see what he would do.
“Yes, you may be their princess, but you’re mine. Call it possessive or chauvinistic if you want but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine and no one else gets to touch you.” In any other situation with any other person, she would have destroyed him but this was her Shikamaru, her usually calm, lazy nin. To see him so fierce and passionate, his normally soft eyes firey only made her feel wanted. She reached forward his shadows allowing her to move so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.
“Shika, I love you, only you. These other people, Lords, shinobi or whoever doesn’t matter to me. I’m here with you, I'm wearing your clan’s crest sewn into this dress against my heart. You’re mine, just as much as I am yours, never forget that.” He picked her up to pull her into a kiss her legs wrapping around his waist, desperately needing to remind himself that no one could take her away. They’d been through too much together to ever be apart. He’d happily start a war if he needed to, just to keep her.
He scattered kisses along her neck in apology not caring if they left marks for the world to see. “I’m sorry. You’re an important figure to Suna and I’ll have to share you sometimes, but it doesn’t mean that I have to like it. But, I can learn to handle it better.” He mumbled knowing that he was being childish and that this wouldn't be the first time.
Her hands gently played with his hair. “That’s why I wanted you here. I want people to know that you’re the most important person in my life. That I chose you and I’m proud to stand next to you.”
“Really?” He asked unsure.
Temari kissed him sweetly. “Baby, we’ve gotta work on your confidence. You’re the Hokage’s adviser, you’re from a storied, respected clan, your jutsu is strong, your contributions during the war are known far and wide. You are good, kind and loyal. I had to put my claim on you before someone else tried to take you from me. Never think that you’re less than anyone in that room. I’m lucky that you’re mine.” She assured him kissing him fiercely and possessively. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen the ladies of Suna eyeing him while he pouted and sulked. He looked incredibly handsome tonight clothed in a fitted suit that she had specially made for him that incorporated traditional Suna fashion. She was glad that he didn’t realize how attractive he was or else she’d have a lot more talking to's by the council because of her behavior.
After a few more kisses, and shared promises about what the night would hold for them after the event they returned to the ballroom and he remained steadfast by her side. He was charming and intelligent, his presence only elevating the guests’ feelings and experiences in Suna. He wanted Temari to shine and so he reflected all the greatness and glory that was within her. His hand was warm and ever-present on her back, his figure looming over her like a shadow. She felt safe and protected under his watchful gaze and no one dared cross his path. He may not particularly enjoy politics but he knew how to play the game well. By the end of the night, no one could question her choosing him, a ninja from another village with little title or status, as her mate.
“I think that we’ve gotta invite you to these things more often Nara. People were impressed.” Kankuro toasted him before they both took a drink. The guests had all left but the Konoha delegation remained along with the Sand siblings for the after-party. Temari seated comfortably in Shikamaru’s lap playing with his hair while the group enjoyed more food and drinks relaxing by a fire under the desert sky.
“I had to pick up a lot of broken hearts after they found out you were with my sister and after she threatened to exile them from the country,” Kankuro added with a grin knowing that she’d take the bait.
“Shut up Kankuro.” She growled about to jump and attack her brother till Shikamaru’s arms wrapped around her waist pulling her back into his lap.
“Didn’t know you felt that way about me Trouble.” He teased her and Kankuro took that as his opportunity to get out of harm’s way.
She pouted and blushed before ducking her face into his neck.
“I wasn’t jealous.” She mumbled. He just chuckled before turning her gaze back towards him. She couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes shined in amusement. He was very much her Prince. While she had no illusions of what being a Princess meant for her she couldn't help but feel that she had earned him and their fairy tale.
“I love you.” He told her simply and while she’d heard those words many times before they always filled her such an immense feeling of joy.
“I love you too.” It wasn’t always easy being with the Suna Princess, famed Sand Kunoichi and wind mistress, but he wouldn’t trade her for the world.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393019
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dancer Chapter Two
Part Two coming at you right away, because I’ve been sitting on a monster version of this draft all as one for the last day or so!
More of Eggsy, Emotions, Booty Shorts, and Working to Save the World! A bit of a mini interlude to cut this down into chapters better, and to ease us into Chapter Three, coming as soon as I can finish it (as well as the rest of the chapters, since I’ve no idea how long this might end up being yet!)
Again, here there be NSFW things, particularly re: sex (violence will be coming later, it is a spy tale after all). Per usual, if that isn’t your thing no worries, but maybe skip this one!
My love to all who read/like/reblog!
Eggsy slipped inside, shut the green room door, and his eyes as he relaxed against it. He needed to decompress, to take in all of it, most of all Boniface...
“Well then. He is handsome, isn’t he? And lovely lips, among other things.”
Evan’s voice made him jump.
“Jesus! What are you doing in here?”
“Giving you your clothes back,” Evan said, and handed over the mesh top. “I already put our pieces away in the closet for you. I was going to say let’s get you dressed and home, but it looks like you’ll need a minute to calm down.”
Eggsy knew very well what Evan was speaking of, but didn’t want to address it. The aching of his cock was very present, he didn’t need to look down to know he was hard as a rock, despite never having really swung that way before. At least, not in a way it mattered. There had been the occasional crush on a good-looking friend or two, but none of them happened to be gay or bi or pan or questioning or queer in any way, so even if he’d wanted to explore, there hadn’t been the chance. Then he’d met Tilde, and he truly did love and was attracted to her, but this-
This presented the need for some thinking. And considering. And maybe a wank once he was in the safety of his new apartment in town.
“I didn’t mean to-I mean, I’ve never, with a man. I’m not against it, don’t get me wrong, I just never got a chance to try-God, I am saying a lot of things,” Eggsy stuttered.
Evan just smiled. “I’ve got to change too, so you just sit on that towel of yours here on the couch, and...think of England, or something. No judgement, I still have my moments with him where I just-”
Evan shivered, and shed his robe, letting it drop to the floor. “Almost. I told him never again, once I accepted this new title. And he was fine with that. But some days...let me put it this way. Normally, this would be illegal and just nasty, right? Fucking your employer. But he isn’t brutish, he doesn’t demand it. He does expect it, but he won’t do anything if you tell him no; he’ll just ask again the next night. I don’t know if that’s that much better, but it could certainly be worse. And wait until you have him; he knows what he’s doing.”
“I’ve never-” Eggsy started again.
“Even so,” Evan interrupted as he gathered his robe from the floor, and continued to strip out of his club garb, and into an Adidas sweat suit. “Just let him know that, and he’ll take things slow. He’s a romantic at heart anyway, so slow fits him just fine.”
“Good,” Eggsy replied, and gave up on ‘calming down’ as he grabbed new underwear, the sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and his Adidas from his bag. It made getting dressed interesting (and made Evan giggle) but he couldn’t get Boniface’s gaze out of his mind. On the stage, it had been predatory, but in his office? Sweet and soft and warm, and he didn’t know what to do with that.
Once he had his make-up off and his things packed again, he let Evan lead the way out.
“So, turns out we’re neighbors! All the better, I’m sure Boniface told you his rule?”
“No one leaves the club alone,” Eggsy replied. “Are people around here dangerous or something?”
Evan giggled. “No! But, if you do well enough, you gain fans, and having a second person there helps keep them at bay usually. They mean well, but they can get a little overbearing. After all, they won’t say they know you from the strip club, even though everyone in the neighborhood knows that’s the case. No, you’ll be ‘an old friend that just moved to town, and they’ve missed you for so long, wouldn’t you like to catch up?’ and shit like that.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Eggsy remarked, and looked around the dark streets. “Quiet now.”
Evan nodded. “Every town has something about it, you know? But I like it here. Warm enough that even the winter is mild, a good job, a nice apartment, and good people all around.”
“And friends?”
Evan nodded again, slower this time. “Yeah. I mean, most of the other dancers were my friend until I took the management position thing. Now...well. You know how it is. Even an office that isn’t like, an office, has that workplace politics bullshit. So, they’re all not talking to me really now, unless it’s work-related.”
“Well, I think you’re a great manager,” Eggsy said softly. “And, I’d gather a good friend too. I mean, we’ve just met, but, I don’t know. You helped me, and you probably didn’t have to. Thank you for that, by the way. The clothes, and hyping me up when I was out there on the stage. It made it all easier.”
Evan pulled him into a hug as they walked on. “Thank you. It makes me feel better, hearing that. I don’t want you to feel like you have to say it just because I’m like, the mother hen of the dancers now-”
“Not at all,” Eggsy interrupted, and he meant it. “I truly just think you seem like a nice person, who I’d like to get to know.”
Evan kissed his cheek, and smiled. “Okay. But just friends. I know he told you, and you probably don’t even see me that way, but just to clarify...I mean, he won’t let you have a boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever, while you work for him. He wants your mind on the work, the club, him, at all times. He’s a workaholic, but to a good end result. So it’s worth it, I promise.”
Eggsy nodded, and followed Evan up the stairs of a white building, and into a hall that led finally to their doors.
“See, I’m 206, and you’re 207!” Evan chirped, and handed Eggsy a key. “Keep that safe, they don’t let us make copies. Now, I’ve got to head in and get some beauty rest, but I’ll be up for a bit yet. So if you have any questions, concerns, or if you need to talk some more about you-know-who and his effect on you, just knock on my door.”
“Thank you,” Eggsy replied, and waited for Evan to go inside before opening up the door to his own apartment.
The inside was fairly bare, but it had the basics: a couch, a TV, fridge, stove, a not terrible looking mattress on the floor of the one bedroom, and a bathroom that seemed to be in working order.
He dropped his bags in the bedroom, but not before taking the earpiece back out and turning it on. “Merlin? You awake?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. Just waiting for your call, actually. Watching some soap opera thing or something, I’m not really sure what the whole plot line is but I’m invested now,” Merlin replied absentmindedly.
“Good. It’s all gone well, so far. He likes me, and I start with the floor work tomorrow night. Er, later today, I guess,” Eggsy said, catching the time on the clock as he sat on the living room couch.
“Glad to hear it. Keep the earpiece in your bag, and keep that somewhere safe, just in case you need my help,” Merlin said. “Now, did you need to talk at all? I know earlier, you were a bit panicked, so if you need-”
“It’s a lot,” Eggsy sighed heavily. “And half of it, you really shouldn’t have to hear. I don’t know who I should tell, if anyone.”
“But you need to talk it out to someone,” Merlin said. “And I’m offering myself up for it. I know you can’t hear it, but I just clicked the TV off. Go on, spill.”
“I don’t know where to start,” Eggsy muttered. “Tilde is pissed at me for this mission for just...every reason. I have Roxy staying with her, to keep her safe and to show her, well, that I love her. That I want her looked after while I’m gone. But she wouldn’t even talk to me before I left for the shop, and it’s been like this ever since the mission first came up. She wanted someone else to go, not me.”
“Is it just the stripping she doesn’t like?”
“I think so,” Eggsy answered. “But...I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to. But I’ve occasionally fancied a mate here or there, right, whatever, never...played about though, I met Tilde and that was that. This club owner, Boniface, expects us to fuck him to keep our slot as a dancer, and I thought that would end that mission right here, but no, he kissed me tonight and-”
His breath caught in this throat. “I’m still thinking about it, and I’m still half-fucking hard from it. I’m not saying it means I don’t love Tilde or find her unattractive, I just-”
“You weren’t expecting it,” Merlin interrupted softly. “You thought any feelings like that were pushed away because you have Tilde. And now you’ve been fighting with her, and someone’s treating you romantically and kindly and it riled you up, and you don’t know what to do about it.”
“Yeah.”
Merlin cleared his throat, and sighed. “It might just be as simple as you like more than just girls, but it sounds like you already know that and have known it for awhile. And that doesn’t have to affect your marriage, and I know you know that, but I’m going to say it anyway, because I think you want to hear it. You’re worried that if things go sour with Tilde-”
“Things changed,” Eggsy interrupted, desperately. He’d been dying to talk to someone, anyone about it all for months, and now that the flow had started he couldn’t stop it. “I mean, we’re still great friends, fantastic friends. We have fun together. But...sex just sort of stopped. She claimed she just wasn’t feeling it, and I guess I haven’t been either, and it isn’t like that should break us up, there’s more to relationship than that. But if she’s lying to protect my feelings, and she really just isn’t into me as anything other than a friend...”
He shrugged. “She deserves to be with someone who can give her everything. Friendship, sex, and who can be a proper prince too. She wants so badly for me to be able to go out and be at events with her, but if I do that, I couldn’t do this. And I can’t just sit in a palace, Merlin. I love this, and I can’t ever see giving it up. So I can’t be seen, I can’t go out to events where someone could somehow recognize me or I could be made a target, and she gets it but at the same time...she doesn’t, if that makes any sense.”
He couldn’t see Merlin, but he could envision the sage and slow nod he did whenever he was thinking through a problem. “It does. So, let’s say you do divorce after this mission. Let’s say worst case scenario: the strip club thing is a deal-breaker for her along with everything else you’ve just mentioned. What do you feel about that?”
“I’d miss her,” Eggsy murmured. “I’d still want to be her friend, to hang out with her and do our usual things. Our movie nights, and board game nights and all that domestic shit that we both make fun of but we both love. But if she’d be happier...if it would mean not arguing with her...it would hurt, I can’t say it wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t stop her. I’d just ask that. To still be her friend.”
“Do you think you will sleep with him? Boniface?”
Eggsy found himself shrugging again, though he knew the answer. “I have to, I think, in order to keep working there. To get close to him, to get the formula and any other intel I can.”
“Okay,” Merlin said slowly. “Do you want to? Like, say he told you that you wouldn’t necessarily have to, but he offered it anyway. Just a fun fling, even.”
Eggsy opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then, a flood.
“I don’t know I mean...if Tilde was asking for a divorce at that point, then probably yes. I mean, I couldn’t cheat on her like that, even though she knows what these missions sometimes entail, but she really doesn’t like it and who can blame her? Anyone else would react the same, I’m sure, but if her and I were...done, I guess, back to being just friends who also failed a marriage, Jesus Christ how terrible does that sound, then yeah.”
He sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. “Oh my god. Yeah. I’d say yes. He’s gorgeous, Merlin, if I could only show you a picture.”
“He’s got a picture of himself on the club website,” Merlin said. “I can see what you mean. I mean, I’ve got my type, you know that. But it’d be hard to kick him out of bed, eh? Very pretty, with the lips and the eyes like that. Are they really that blue?”
Eggsy nodded, then remembered Merlin couldn’t see him. “They are. His lips are so soft; oh my god what am I saying. This isn’t fair to Tilde; I should just call her now and...I don’t know. What would I even say?”
“For now, I think you just need to sleep,” Merlin replied gently. “You’ll do what you have to for the mission, Tilde knows that as well as any of us. If after, there are...more feelings and things to deal with, you’ll deal with them. You and Tilde will talk, and figure out what you both want and need, and go from there. Okay?”
“Okay,” Eggsy said, but it felt anything like okay. He felt something like light-headed over it all, not sick but off-kilter. It was so much at once.
“Alright,” Merlin said. “Get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow after your shift, unless you need me sooner. Sleep well.”
“You too.”
He went to change into something else, then realized their wardrobe had been so low on things appropriate for the mission, that he hadn’t found anything to wear for pajamas. He’d completely forgotten about it, in fact.
So he checked the mattress for bed bugs (clean, thankfully) then stripped, and flopped onto it naked before setting an alarm on his phone for later in the day. He tried to will himself to sleep, to think of anything but what was running through his head.
The last argument he’d had with Tilde before she’d stopped talking to him completely.
The moment onstage when he’d first caught Boniface’s eyes.
The feeling of Boniface’s lips on his and the way his hand had touched his jaw.
The last one was too much, and he could have screamed at himself for getting hard again. It wasn’t that it was for another man, but that it was for a villain of the world who happened to kiss like an angel, that he had a wife at home who maybe didn’t want to be his wife anymore, and this certainly wouldn’t help convince her that they should stay together.
The lube in his bag was not meant for this, it was meant for any situation but this. And he felt bad about using it, but more about what he was thinking about while he got himself off.
Boniface, in that gorgeously cut suit, but with his cock out and Eggsy on his knees in front of him. Mind, he’d never sucked cock before, but in his head Boniface was kind about it, telling him what to do, praising him for every motion. A hand in his hair, holding tight, but not so tight as to hurt. That same hand on his ass when he stood back up, kissing Boniface hard, the other reaching for his cock and stroking ever so gently and-
He was glad he’d brought the towel home with him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, but he also hadn’t really checked for sure how many he had in the apartment, so it was handy to have now.
He cleaned the cum off of his stomach while his chest was still heaving. As good as it had felt, he didn’t want to think about it anymore.
Sleep came easy then, and he hated that it did.
2 notes
·
View notes
Photo
(Cover by me)
Lady Rackham: An Unusual Tale of Piracy, Romance and Swashbuckling Upon the High Seas by Alydia Rackham
Prologue
St. George’s Channel
April 1st, 1744
"Good lord, she's been blinded."
"Belay that please, Doctor. Get your kit and bring it to the captain's cabin, if you would."
The first mate, after issuing that quiet order, turned away from the doctor and grabbed the arm of the woman next to him. His pulse hammered, but he ground his teeth and said nothing. He didn’t dare do what his arms screamed to do: scoop her up and carry her—
For, though a lady—she was also his captain.
The cold night wind gusted through his shoulder-length, chestnut hair, and restlessly tossed her tangled ebony tresses. He lifted her over the rail—her boots clunked as she landed on the rocking deck.
He ducked his head and urgently searched her features by the deep orange light of the lamps. Her hat was missing, and mud caked her long coat and trousers. The tie of her white tunic beneath lay undone, and her belt hung sideways.
But his heart skipped a beat when he saw what the doctor had spotted:
A deep, vertical cut that began above her right eyebrow and trailed down somewhere across her right cheek. He couldn’t find where it ended, because blood coated almost the entire side of her face. His throat closed.
The ship's doctor hurried off to his own cabin to retrieve bandages. The first mate glanced warily out past the railing to the empty sea beyond, heard only the restless waves lapping softly against the hull—so he turned back and took hold of his captain’s elbow.
She nudged him away, and proceeded on her own power, head high. He darted ahead, opened the cabin door for her, and stepped out of the way as she passed.
He entered after, then quickly strode across the rug past her to light the lamps. The flames soon illuminated the plush room, filled with finely-carved furniture, tapestries and scarlet pillows and drapes—and now he could assess the state of his captain better.
She yanked off her soggy coat and tossed it aside, revealing more of her slight but knife-like form, clothed in a loose shirt, figure-keeping leather bodice and trousers. She yanked off her boots as well, and threw off the bandana that covered the top of her head. The first mate stood to the side, watching uneasily as blood dripped from her chin and onto her white sleeves.
A knock at the door.
The first mate hurried over and opened it. The bearded doctor stood there, brow knitted, holding a wooden box and a bowl of water.
"Reynolds," the first mate nodded. "Come in."
"I don’t need that doctor," the captain growled from behind. The first mate glanced back over his shoulder to see her flop down in a chair behind her chart table. The mate's brow furrowed.
"Is there harm in having him look at you, Captain?" he asked quietly. She didn’t look at him, for she kept her right eye mostly shut, but she shook her head.
"I don't want him right now. Bring me the kit."
Ducking his head, the mate took the box and bowl from the doctor, shut the door, came back and set them down on the map. He hesitated, waiting, but she didn’t say anything. So he turned to go.
"Stay, will you, Mr. Young?" she asked, her voice softer than before.
Mr. Young paused, then nodded.
"Yes, Captain. If you wish."
However, she didn’t offer him a chair, so he stood, his head slightly bent, his ragged hair brushing the shoulders of his doublet. He folded his arms, and absently ran his hand back and forth against his short beard. And he watched her.
She opened the box and pulled out a clean rag, and with practiced hands, dipped the rag in the water and gingerly began wiping away the blood. She started with her eyelid, and the tender skin around it. Mr. Young held his breath. Slowly, the mess came away enough so that he could glimpse her long black eyelashes…
And then both of her bright, ebony eyes flashed up to meet his. She smiled crookedly.
"I lost my hat."
Mr. Young let out his breath. He lifted an eyebrow.
"You almost lost your eye."
She grunted and squeezed her right eye shut again, starting on her cheek. Mr. Young's gaze drifted over her features as she slowly uncovered her soft, tanned skin, along with her comely nose and the corner of her mouth.
"You look pale, Mr. Young. You’ve never seen blood before?" she muttered.
He closed his fists.
"Why did you not let me come with you?" he demanded. The captain snorted.
"Come now. What would I say to your betrothed if I had to hand her back that ring she gave you and tell her I got you killed?"
The rag strayed into the center of her wound, and she suddenly hissed. She threw the rag down with a slap, and her shaking hand twitched back up toward her face.
Mr. Young reflexively started forward—then instantly stopped himself. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his head further and settled his hands on the edge of the table.
She took a tight breath, her jaw clamped, and a hand bedecked with rings drifted down to rest on the parchment map.
"I had him, Young," she muttered, her black eyes burning as she stared at the wall of the cabin. "I had him. And then one of his rats shot at me from above. I thought I'd been killed. Then he sliced my face open. I stepped back and fell into a ravine. It was too dark for him to find me." The captain snatched the rag up, dipped it to try again, glancing blackly back up at her first mate. "One thing I did learn: he’s heading to the Caribbean, after he takes on cargo. We’ll fly ahead of him and lie in wait. In my own waters, in my own tides and islands." She squeezed the excess bloody water out on to the map and bared her teeth. "I'll have him yet."
Chapter One
Portsmouth, England
May 11th, 1744
"Not so tight! Luellen, not so tight!"
"'ow many times 'ave I told you, Mistress? It's got to be tight to show off your form!"
"I won't have any form left if you keep...ah! If you...If you keep pulling those stays!"
Lady Gwendolyn of the House of Montgomery held tightly to the post of her elegant wooden bed, trying to keep from being yanked backwards as her red-faced, plump maidservant gave another hard tug on her corset stays. Luellen huffed, finally finished, and tied the bindings.
"There now. I've kept you a notch looser than yesterday. You can thank me." Luellen slapped Gwendolyn's corset, but Gwendolyn couldn’t even feel it through the thick, hard material.
"Thank you. You're very kind," Gwendolyn grunted, trying to stand up straight and wincing as she did. Though she was nearly nineteen, she had always bucked the idea of wearing a corset. Most of the other young ladies she knew had been tightened much further by now and professed to be quite comfortable—though Gwendolyn didn’t know how that was possible.
She glanced about her sleeping quarters. She had two tall windows facing west, and each housed a plush, red velvet window seat. Long, lace curtains hung from golden rods up above the open windows. She liked to smell the salty freshness of the nearby sea.
Luellen huffed again as she dug through Gwendolyn's largest piece of furniture: a beautifully carved, oak wardrobe that had belonged to Gwendolyn's mother. Gwendolyn stood in front of the mirror, waiting, absently touching her corset and bloomers and wishing for the days of her childhood when she could just run around in a sack and bare feet.
Thoughtfully and a bit sleepily, she ran her hand through her long, light-brown hair and wished for a thin, cotton dress to match her blue eyes…
"'ere now. 'ow about this one?"
Gwendolyn blinked and turned to find a slightly disheveled Luellen holding out a voluminous red-and-gold gown. Gwendolyn made a face.
"Ugh, no. It is far too warm for that one. Besides, we're not expecting any company."
"Well, I’m tired of choosing every day, only to have you tell me no!" Luellen cried. "Which do you want?"
Gwendolyn stepped past Luellen to peer into the wardrobe. She fingered each rich dress, and at last she reached to the very back and pulled out a simple, sky blue dress that she had not worn for months.
"This," she decided.
"But that’s no longer in fashion at all!"
"I don’t mind," Gwendolyn smiled. "I’d much rather be cool than in fashion."
Sighing and rolling her eyes, Luellen helped Gwendolyn on with her petticoats and other undergarments, then pulled the blue dress over the lady's head and smoothed it down. A very simple dress; no frills or laces, elbow-length sleeves, a slight bolster, and, most importantly, made out of a linen fabric that breathed.
After Luellen had fastened it in the back, she bade Gwendolyn to sit down in front of her white vanity to do her hair.
"Don't make a fuss about it today," Gwendolyn urged. So Luellen pinned Gwendolyn's hair up in a loose bun that allowed some strands of hair to fall loosely down. Gwendolyn didn’t even put on any jewelry, for she didn’t want to go out today. Instead, she felt like finding a place in the shady library, ordering a cup of tea, and continuing the book that had engrossed her all week.
A knock at the door—three sharp taps.
Gwendolyn gasped and stood up, banging her knees on her vanity and rattling her perfume bottles.
"Come in, Jonathan," she winced.
The latch worked and the door swung open. A stiffly-dressed, wigged old servant with a wooden expression, bowed shortly.
"My lady, your father bids you to the grand entrance immediately."
"Thank you.”
Gwendolyn did not wait. She shoved her stool out of the way and followed Jonathan out the door and down the spacious, airy corridor, lined with decorative tables and solemn portraits. Despite Jonathan's age, he moved swiftly, and Gwendolyn rustled along behind him, trying to breathe enough to keep up.
They hurried down several flights of winding stairs and finally emerged into the tall, marbled grand entryway, beneath the glimmering crystal chandelier.
Her father stood there by the tall front door, garbed in his finest Navy uniform and bedecked with all of his medals. He wore his white wig perfectly. But his sea-weathered face didn’t turn toward her as she entered. Which was good—for all the blood drained out of her head at the sight of other person in the room.
A young nobleman, straight as a beech tree, wearing a beautifully-embroidered blue riding suit, a plumed hat under his arm. Handsome and placid; his dark eyes focused on her father, his brown hair pulled back in a black ribbon.
Jonathan stopped, and cleared his throat. Both her father and the nobleman turned to look at Gwendolyn.
Instantly, her father's blue eyes pierced her. The nobleman's face remained unchanged.
"Come here, Gwendolyn," her father ordered, motioning to her.
Johnathan stepped out of the way, and Gwendolyn cautiously stepped up to her father's side. He did not touch her.
“Gwendolyn, may I present Lord Gregory Bucklin, a cousin to the king," her father introduced. “Lord Bucklin, this is my daughter, Lady Gwendolyn Lilia of the House of Montgomery.”
"It is an honor," the young lord bowed politely.
Gwendolyn's throat closed. She had heard this man’s name mentioned many times during her few stays at court. And all of a sudden, she felt stupid for standing in the presence of royalty wearing an old dress, messy hair and absolutely no adornment or even perfume. She blushed.
"I am equally honored, my lord." She curtsied, trying to hide her face.
"Would you come sit with us, Lord Bucklin?" Her father gestured to a room off to his left.
"Thank you, my lord," Bucklin replied coolly, straightening. Lord Montgomery then proceeded into the parlor, and Lord Bucklin indicated that Gwendolyn follow her father first. Getting the slight sensation of walking in a military escort, Gwendolyn managed to keep her face blank, and step into the smaller room.
A couch and three chairs of floral upholstery and dark wood waited for them. Lord Montgomery motioned for Gwendolyn to sit in one of these chairs, and he and Lord Bucklin settled into the other two.
The three of them chatted casually for a few minutes about the roads, the weather, and the state of the Royal Navy. Gwendolyn mostly listened, only speaking when her father or Lord Bucklin asked her a question, which they did not do very often. At last, her father cleared his throat.
"Well, now I suppose we should discuss the true reason for this house call,” her father began as he leaned back into his chair. “Gwendolyn, you know I have always looked out for your happiness. And it is for that reason that I have invited Lord Bucklin to our home today. A few months ago, he sent me a letter very honorably indicating to me that you had caught his eye during your stay at the royal court this past winter. Although he did not obtain an introduction, he found your manner to be amiable, beautiful, refined, polite, meek and worthy. Isn’t that true, Lord Bucklin?" her father asked, unable to hide a smile.
"Yes, my lord. Quite right,” Bucklin acknowledged—though Gwen saw him frown slightly. Gwendolyn tried not to swallow.
"Thank you, my lord," she replied.
"He also indicated to me that, though he is nearing his thirtieth year, he has not yet married,” her father went on. Gwendolyn looked at him sharply. Her father continued, smiling.
"In fact, he went to the court this spring with the intention of searching for a wife, as he is the only son of the aging Lord Andrew Bucklin. Correct, sir?"
"Yes, my lord,” Bucklin said, glancing at Gwendolyn carefully. Gwendolyn felt as if her corset were tightening of its own accord.
"Therefore," her father said, with an air of finality. "If you will have him, I have found that he is a good and amiable man who can make you happy and protect you quite well, and have given him permission to court you with the intention of marriage. I thought that I should make sure that you are satisfied with the situation."
She stared at him blankly. But the moment hung there, and so she made herself draw in a breath.
"Thank you, Father," was all she got out—and even to herself, her voice sounded unrecognizable.
"So," her father slapped his thigh, which made her jump. "My work is done; I'll leave you two alone for a moment, and then we shall have tea." The seaman rose to his feet, winced at an old pain in his back, then strode out of the room, leaving the door open.
Gwendolyn swallowed again, watching him go, then turned back to Lord Bucklin. However, she soon directed her gaze at her folded hands.
"I am sorry about this," Bucklin said quietly.
Gwendolyn managed to lift her eyes, her brow furrowing.
"Pardon?" she murmured.
Lord Bucklin shifted, then stood up, clasping his hands behind his
back, and stepped toward the window.
“When I saw you at court, I confess that I was pleased with your manner, your appearance, your beauty…your laugh,” he said hesitantly. “I had hoped to find a suitable time to be introduced to you, but no opportunity seemed to present itself.” He turned and faced her, his eyes bright and earnest. “I had no desire to make this seem like a business transaction—but the bluntness of your father’s presentation compels me to utmost honesty with you, trusting that you will understand what I say.”
Gwendolyn hesitated, then nodded carefully. Lord Bucklin shifted his weight.
“My uncle, Lord Andrew, has been placing considerable pressure upon me to find a wife to suit my station once I inherit. He has given me liberty to choose who I may—but he has restricted my time to choose to six months. I have already spent three of those in vain, and therefore I find myself in dire straits. My only good fortune seems to be the happenstance that you, the one who has caught my eye, are an honorable and good-hearted lady, and might tolerate such a union.” He glanced at the door, then lowered his voice, and tilted toward her. “I shall endeavor to make myself worthy of you, madam. And if you will have patience with me, I am certain we shall make the best of all of this, and in the end, be quite happy.” He tried to smile at her. “Shall we try?”
Gwendolyn’s heart pounded against her corset. She opened her mouth—
"Excuse me my lady; my lord,” Jonathan interrupted, stepping halfway into the parlor. “Lord Montgomery invites you to the luncheon room for tea.”
Lord Bucklin ducked his head, then glanced at her and held out his arm for her to take.
Listlessly, as if watching herself from a distance, Gwendolyn stood, took his arm, and followed after Jonathan.
The tea went much the way that the earlier conversation had gone: small talk about nothing of significance, mostly between the two lords. Gwendolyn simply tried to swallow her drink without being ill.
Finally, after about a quarter of an hour, Lord Bucklin rose to go, explaining that he needed to see to some business at the docks. Gwendolyn and her father rose to their feet, escorted him to the door, and Gwendolyn permitted Lord Bucklin to kiss her hand. He then gave her a polite, quiet smile, and took his leave.
After the door had shut behind him, Gwendolyn's father turned to her.
"Well? What do you think of him?"
Gwendolyn drew herself up and fought to control her voice.
"He is...courteous."
"Indeed, indeed,” her father nodded, clasping his hands behind his back just as Lord Bucklin had done. “That is exactly what I thought. Very amiable, agreeable man. And, he has excellent connections, a worthy family! His estate is old and prosperous, and he needs a son. A perfect match, dearest. A perfect match. You are a fortunate girl!”
"Yes, Father,” Gwendolyn whispered, but he wasn’t listening. He drew himself up and strode purposefully out of the entryway and toward the library, already deep in another thought.
Slowly, Gwendolyn turned around and trudged up the stairs—but soon her footsteps quickened, and before she knew what she was doing, she raced up the stairs, pelted down the hallway, burst into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Her breath rasped in her throat because of her corset, and she felt ready to faint.
"Mistress! Mistress, what's wrong?" Luellen yelped, throwing down her laundry and hurrying up to Gwendolyn.
"They've arranged... " Gwendolyn panted, feeling tears burn her eyes.
"What? What are you talking about?" Luellen took her by the shoulders.
"Father and...Lord Bucklin," Gwendolyn rasped. "Father would have me marry him."
Luellen's hands slowly drifted down and away from her as Gwendolyn leaned heavily back against her door.
"But mistress…You can't marry 'im!" Luellen said fearfully. "You're...."
"I know, I know," Gwendolyn gasped, her face twisting. “I'm already engaged."
Chapter Two
Gwendolyn shed her fine shoes, put on a pair of common work boots and then wrapped a ragged shawl of Luellen's around her shoulders. Carefully, after forcing Luellen into an oath of silence, Gwendolyn opened the door to the servants’ staircase, stepped through and quietly closed it behind her.
A single gas lamp flickered in the darkness of the spiral staircase, and she tripped down the stairs, avoiding those that squeaked loudly.
After several more twists and turns, her way lit by occasional lamps, she pushed on a thick, crude wooden door and found herself outside. The brilliant day made her blink. The fresh scent of spring hung rich in the air, and the breeze warmed her skin, playing with the loose strands of her hair and her skirts.
She closed the door, glanced about to see that no one was outside, and raced across the emerald grass to the tall, stately stables and darted inside.
Panting, she shut herself in, the wind instantly stopping and the sweet scent of hay surrounding her. She then made her way to a stall where she hurriedly saddled up her favorite mare. After once more casting a wary eye out the small window to see that no one occupied the yard, she shoved open the wide door with great effort, climbed up on her horse and urged her into a swift trot.
They instantly broke out of the stables into the sunshine and wind. Gwendolyn sought the wooded road, where she knew she could not be seen from the house, and at last her horse's hooves pounded against the soft dirt of the wagon road that led to the harbor.
Soon, Gwendolyn left the woods behind her, and spectacular, rolling hills surrounded her. Jagged, rocky cliffs plummeted to the sea just to her right. She could hear the distant roar of the breakers now, and the bustle of activity within the nearby city of Portsmouth.
After three more bends in the road, the bun in her hair almost completely undone by the whipping wind, the road turned to cobblestone, and small, quaint homes and businesses rose up on either side of her.
All manner of people walking quickly up and down filled the streets, tending to business—some sweeping about in cloaks or uniforms or fine dresses, others trooping by in dirty work clothes and leather, tricorn hats. Others rode, and quite a few drove carts or wagons that rattled hard against the stones. Gwendolyn forced herself to pull back on the reins and slow her mount's speed, but her heart kept pounding.
She glanced up. Ahead, down the hill and by the sea stood the tall port buildings, and wooden docks jutting out into the silvery, churning sea. Sunlight sparkled blindingly against the water, turning the ships to black silhouettes.
Three ships floated in the wide harbor: two rather small ones and a very large merchant vessel. Gwendolyn bit her lip. She could just see the hardy men hefting the loads of boxes, barrels and sacks back and forth along the docks.
After an impossible half hour, she finally broke out of the loud, hustling masses and took a side street that ended very near the docks.
At last, she burst out of the little alley and trotted up to dock ten, where the largest, grandest vessel lay moored.
She had never seen a ship like it. Painted black and red—a forty-gunner. As she dismounted and tied her horse, she marveled at the height of its three masts, the beauty of its carved, teak wood, the length of its thick body, the pride of its forward thrusting bowsprit, and the vast shadow it cast upon the water. A fierce queen, a sword held straight forward in one hand, formed the magnificent figurehead. Clearly, this ship had been constructed for traveling over the broad Atlantic.
Gwendolyn pulled her attention down from the massive ship to the line of workers hauling the supplies up and down the creaking dock, urgently searching their faces for a familiar one.
There.
He stood near the gangplank, giving orders to the men trudging up and down it, a ledger under his arm. He was short; perhaps just three inches taller than Gwendolyn. He had fair skin, a sharp nose. He had ginger hair, and a strong, nimble form. He wore a white shirt that had sleeves that came down to his elbows, a brown waistcoat, a battered tricorn hat, and a thick, tan trousers that came down to his knees, and white hose. His simple buckled shoes had seen too much wear. And ink stains marked his pointing hand.
Gwendolyn stepped around the weather-beaten dock building and hurried out onto the wooden dock, careful to avoid the workers. Halfway to the gangplank, she shouted:
"Shea! Shea MacCaulay!"
The young man instantly stopped and turned to her. A sparkling grin flashed across his face, and his eyes, the color of the sea behind him, sparkled.
"Gwendolyn!" he crowed, put his ledger down on a barrel and dashed up to her. Before she could say anything, he had swept her up and twirled her around, laughing, and his hat fell off. After he had set her down, he withdrew a bit, the breeze fluttering through his wild hair. He grinned at her in delight.
"I'm so glad you came today!" He reached down, snatched up his hat and stuffed it back on, then clasped her soft hand in his calloused one. “Just look at her!" He swept his other hand grandly to draw her attention to the magnificent ship.
"She's beautiful,” Gwendolyn managed, trying not to tremble, and holding on to his left hand with both of hers.
"Your father's just hired her," Shea told her, glancing at Gwendolyn. "She’s a brigantine. Her name is Annabella. In three days, she'll be carrying shipments of supplies and ammunition all the way to the colonies in the Caribbean."
"Shea,” Gwendolyn said—or tried to say. All that came out was a strangled whisper, and he didn’t hear her. Her grip on his hand tightened and her shivering grew worse.
How was she supposed to tell him?
She moved closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as he studied the splendid vessel. She felt him take a deep breath.
"The West Indies and the Caribbean," he said breathlessly. "Can you imagine that? The West Indies! I've talked to sailors that have been there; they told me that there's more gold than you could wish for; and that the water is a color of blue that you've never seen, and it's so clear and warm that it's like bath water. There are also jungles and mountains and huge fish and parrots and things like that...But mostly there are…pirates." He chuckled. "I must go there someday."
Gwendolyn backed up slightly and looked at him, his unruly hair blown in the salty wind, his cheeks ruddy, his eyes alight as he stared at that ship, the grin on his face broadening.
She could not tell him. Not when she knew it would wipe that wonderful expression from his face—the expression that had made her fall in love with him.
He blinked and turned to her, a shadow crossing his sunny visage.
"Something wrong?"
Gwendolyn instantly gathered herself and put on her best teasing
face.
"This place sounds quite dangerous."
He cocked an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his
mouth.
"Are you saying that I shouldn't go?"
"Not at all.” She glanced down at their hands and fiddled with the broad, coarsely-worked Irish ring on his right hand—his only bit of finery— then lifted her head and smiled at him. “I merely insist that you take me with you.”
He laughed out loud and kissed her forehead.
"We'll see."
Chapter Three
May 27th
Gwendolyn sighed and glanced at the little white-and-gold clock that sat on the wooden mantle in the library. She had been reclining on the couch, endeavoring to read, all morning and early afternoon. It was now nearly three o'clock; Lord Bucklin would be calling soon. Gwendolyn bit her lip and forced her attention back to her book.
It had been two weeks since his courtship had become official, but during Lord Bucklin's daily house calls, Gwendolyn had managed to be evasive enough not to allow a wedding date to be set. However, he came so often and stayed so long that she could not escape to the docks.
She had been praying so hard. Every night for hours and hours she knelt beside her bed, beseeching God to show her what she should do.
She had not yet received an answer.
Two low taps came at the door. Gwen paused, her head coming up.
It had to be Beth, one of the maids.
"Come in,” Gwendolyn called, adjusting the pillow beneath her elbow. The door creaked open and the slight girl edged inside, holding a small, paper-wrapped, square package.
"This parcel came for you, madam." She stepped toward Gwendolyn and held the package out. "Jack went to town today, to the bookstore to see if Lord Montgomery’s maps had come in yet. The shop keeper said that this had been left for you."
"Thank you, Beth. You may go,” Gwendolyn murmured, sitting up and taking the package. Beth curtsied, then left the room and shut the door behind her.
Gwendolyn's hands trembled. Nothing had been written on the brown paper. Quickly, she untied the twine that bound it, pulled off the paper—and found a small blue book in her lap.
"The Islands and Surrounding Waters of the Caribbean and West Indies, and All Manner of Man and Beast That Dwell Therein," she breathed the gold title to herself. She opened the front cover. An envelope slid out. She snatched it up.
Nothing had been written on it either. She quickly broke the wax seal and tugged out the paper within.
May 13th, 1744
My dearest lady,
I have been given a great opportunity.
Your father, a faithful and generous master to me always, has hired me as one of the crew of the Annabella, which sets sail today. But I enlist not just for a regular crewman's sum. Your father has spoken to the captain, and he is willing to put me in charge of several important duties which will require more pay—and as a result, I shall be paid more in one voyage than I could earn in five years as a shipping clerk.
That means that when I return, I will be able to marry you.
I desperately want you to know that this is the only reason that I
would take hold of this opportunity. Leaving you behind is proving to be one of the most difficult experiences of my life. It is made even more difficult by the fact that your father has kept me so busy that I have been completely unable to find a way to see you, and thus I had to settle for sending you this note, which at the very least is completely inadequate.
I want you to know, Gwen, that I love you.
That is why I go. And indeed, even the prospect of seeing the West Indies does not sound so appealing since I cannot say goodbye as I wished. But the entire journey is truly more valuable to me than any riches or adventure, because it will enable me to gain what of late I had thought was unattainable.
Pray for my safe voyage. I shall be thinking of you always—imagining my lady in the lovely countryside of England, fair and unspoilt as a rose.
I shall be forced to winter in the Caribbean and shall return home in perhaps August of next year.
Yours,
Shea Benjamin MacCaulay
P.S. This is the most detailed book that I could find about the Caribbean, and also sailing ships; different pirates and pirate ships. There is also an excellent map in the fore pages, on which I have taken the liberty of drawing out our route and the days on which (approximately) we shall be stopping at each island. I thought, in that way, that you might almost feel as if you could see through my eyes.
SBM
Gwendolyn couldn’t breathe. She sat frozen on the couch, every muscle taut, the heat draining from her face. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth.
The next moment, her father and Lord Bucklin walked in.
"Dearest, Lord Bucklin has arrived,” her father announced—too loudly. Lord Bucklin, as handsome and neat as ever, strode in, bowed, and held out a handful of colorful flowers, a smile lighting his face.
Gwendolyn didn’t look at either of them. She stared straight out the broad western windows, out at the rolling hills and the gray, tossing sea. Her hand fell into her lap.
The date on the letter.
He had been gone for two weeks.
Two weeks—and she had known nothing about it.
Her stomach lurched.
"Gwendolyn?" The cheeriness had vanished from her father's voice. She didn’t move.
"Father,” she rasped. “Father you...you sent him…"
"What?” Lord Montgomery stepped toward her quickly. “Are you quite all right? You’ve gone pale!”
She dragged her eyes up to meet his. He watched her intently, his brow furrowed. She swallowed.
"I've just heard...” she whispered. “I've heard that you...you've sent one of your...one of your shipping clerks to the West Indies."
"Of course. I do that almost every year," her father said. "Is something wrong?"
"Shea,” Gwendolyn murmured. “You...You sent Shea MacCaulay."
"Yes,” her father said gravely, straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes, I did. "
Gwendolyn stared at him, feeling as if she had never seen him in her life.
"Why?" she wondered dimly. He looked down at her sharply, then glanced up in thought, cleared his throat, then returned his gaze to her.
"Very well, it is time I made you aware.” He took a deep breath, and raised his eyebrows. “I sent him away because I now know what he has been doing with his leisure time."
Gwendolyn sat up straighter, and folded Shea's letter close to her.
"What are you talking about?" she asked. Her father paced over to the window. Lord Bucklin still stood in the doorway, dumbly holding the flowers, his brow furrowed.
"The other day, I found Luellen weeping, and I asked her what was troubling her," Lord Montgomery began frankly. "She told me that you were engaged! 'Engaged,' said I. 'Of course, to young Lord Bucklin.' 'Nay,' said she. 'To a shipping clerk of your employ, a one Shea MacCaulay.'" Her father turned around and faced Gwendolyn squarely. "I realized then that you'd been led astray, my dear. Deceived by the romantic promises of a seaman." He smiled gently at her. “And I forgive you for that. You aren’t acquainted with these sailors the way I am. I know full well how they can capture a girl’s imagination with tales of adventure and faraway lands. But believe me—they each keep one such girl in every port!"
Gwendolyn struggled to draw breath, to answer, but her mind spun. Her father took a few steps toward her.
"And there's something else you should know about that young Shea MacCaulay," he said slowly. "The monk that raised him told me all about his past. I kept it quiet for twenty years, graciously providing him with employment, giving the lad a chance to clear his blackened name—but now that I have discovered that this scheming devil had designs upon my daughter, my conscience is clear enough that I may let the entire world know that Shea MacCaulay is the son of a pirate—a pirate that went to the gallows for his crimes."
"But he's coming back...” Gwendolyn remembered weakly.
"No.” Her father shook his head. "At the moment, he may believe that. I offered him a handsome pay. But the captain has orders to find him a situation in one of the ports, perhaps in the slave market. Mr. MacCaulay always spoke so glibly about the Caribbean; I would wager it will suit him much better. And he will find a much more profitable use for his time.” Lord Montgomery clapped his hands. "So, that clears away that particular problem quite neatly. Now we can set the date for your blessed event. What say you?"
"No. "
Lord Montgomery went still.
"What?"
Gwendolyn lifted her eyes and met his.
"No," she repeated.
"No what?" her father repeated, bewildered.
Slowly, clutching Shea's book and letter to her chest, Gwendolyn stood up.
"No. I won't marry him. I will not marry Lord Bucklin. "
Lord Montgomery glanced at Lord Bucklin.
"What do you mean you won't marry him?" Lord Montgomery demanded, his voice rising.
Lord Bucklin's brow furrowed.
"My lady, I thought we agreed—"
"I agreed to nothing,” Gwendolyn said flatly.
"Dearest, I have been completely fair," her father insisted. “I even asked you if you approved of this worthy young man. "
"Yes, you did.” Gwendolyn lifted her head, though her bones trembled. "I have no qualms with this gentleman as he is—I have no doubt he is honorable and kind. But you never asked me who I loved."
Her father's eyes suddenly flashed with fury.
“What?!” he roared. “What are you talking about?" He gestured violently. "Flinging yourself at some common shipping clerk! If your mother were alive, she’d wish that she never bore you!"
Read this book: https://www.amazon.com/Lady-Rackham-Unusual-Romance-Swashbuckling-ebook/dp/B071ZZFSZS/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Lady+Rackham+Alydia+Rackham&qid=1572897680&sr=8-1
#pirates#pirate#piracy#swashbuckle#swashbuckling#pirate romance#caribbean#pirates caribbean#pirates of the caribbean#adventure#sailing ship#1700's#king george#female captain#female hero#heroine#forced marriage#arranged marriage#defiance#cover#cover design#book cover#book cover design#cover art#artwork#art#alydia rackham#novel#book#romance
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ch8 - Operation Grandpup Drop (A SitBoy Discord Crack Fic)
Warning this story is M bordering NSFW Chapter 8:
Stormie Like Weather08/15/2019
InuKimi lifted her long leg, and with one angry stomp, she laid out the foolish servant, "Jaken, you know your place. Do not force me to remind you a second time." Her darkening gold tinged eyes glared down at him, promising suffering, "I allowed you to come here for entertainment, not for disturbances. Now." She clapped her hands together and Juken suddenly appeared, "Your betrothed wishes to copulate, take him away before you no longer have a future husband."
Juken's eyes filled with little hearts and stars. "Yes, Lady InuKimi. It will be my pleasure."
InuKimi kicked him through the doorway, and he slid until he met Juken's bare pink painted webbed feet claws. InuKimi, allowed her poison to drip over the fake staff of two heads, "You no longer need this ridiculous weapon."
"Very precise My Lady, I do not intend to allow Jaken to leave our love next for many weeks to come." She began dragging his concussed body theough the halls and down the stairs. "The chains are ready my love!"
She hadn't been kidding. The 'love nest' looked more like a torture chamber. Before he could resist, Naraku as Jaken found himself hog tied with a mask on that blinded him and allowed very little room to breathe.
"There." Juken stepped back from her work, "Just how you like it, Jakey Wakey."
Walter20508/15/2019
As many times as he had gotten drunk and absorb poison or miasma through his wind tunnel Miroku had built up something of a resistance, meaning that he was the first to awaken of the three in the room.
"Oooh my head...Naraku!" yelled Miroku as his memories returned alongside his wit. He was up and about in a moment looking for the toad but all he saw was Kagome largely naked in the bed and Sango topless on the ground besides him. He inspected his love and his anger grew as he saw that she had been partially undressed by someone who obviously had short small hands.
After laying Sango in bed with Kagome and covering the both of them with a sheet he locked the bedroom door behind him and stalked through the Sealed Castle, finally hearing toady sounding voices in a small chamber near the kitchens. He busted into the room ready for action but instead found two toads, one being Naraku Jaken tied, bound, and naked and then the being earlier identified as Juken, wearing some kind of a revealing black garb (Miroku doesn't know about spandex yet) and holding something akin to a whip in one hand, with chains and other torture devices.
Juken chastised Miroku for interrupting the two of them but noticed Jaken becoming increasingly agitated at the presence of the monk. His agitation seemed to increase tenfold with eyes going wide when the monk raised his hand, clenching prayer beads.
Miroku knew his mind would forever be haunted by what he saw and decided that it all had to go. He opened his wind tunnel and sucked in everything; Jaken, Juken, the chains, the whip, the torture devices, it all went bye bye. He went to close down his wind tunnel after the room was clear, only to notice his wind tunnel shrinking until it went away entirely.
'Huh, so that was the real Naraku then?' Miroku wondered in surprise, before vomiting a big jet of black blood as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
Stormie Like Weather08/15/2019
InuKimi had only been gone a moment to gather new clothes for her guests, yet when she arrived the door was locked. Sensing only the Slayer and Kagome inside, she decided to meddle elsewhere. With a pounding headache, Kagome decided she must have gotten drunk at some point. Something soft rested against her cheek. She kept her eyes closed against the painful light and held her throbbing temple, burrowing her face into the softness for comfort. Only did she open her eyes when a soft moan came from someone other than herself. "Ah, Kagome if you were interested I wish you would have mentioned it before I married the monk."
Walter20508/15/2019
Inukimi arrived at the largely vacuumed room where she had left the two toads, finding the Monk unconscious on the floor next to a pool of foul smelling blood. Knowing what had been in the room beforehand and seeing that the Monk's cursed hand had been cured, she was quickly able to come to a conclusion that resolved the confusion concerning the events she happened upon in the other room earlier.
She carried the monk like a purse as she summoned Inuemi to hurriedly clear off the dining room table, before depositing the Monk there on his back and stripping him down to reveal the burn scars along his arm and chest. Using the powers of her inter-dimensional necklace once again, she reached into the pocket dimension that Miroku's Wind Tunnel had used and brought back Jaken, Juken, Naraku, and the completed Shikon Jewel back into this dimension. Instantly the burn marks disappeared and Miroku started to heal, as Inukimi suspected the poisonous nature of the Jewel was responsible.
When she brought the beings back, Naraku was bound in sealing chains, while Jaken and Juken were brought back in their normal attire, all three now sitting or restrained in the dining room chairs. Because Naraku had died a legitimate death (versus faking his death in at least one previous occasion) Miroku's Wind Tunnel was thankfully still gone. He awoke, before declaring Naraku's name again as he got into a fighting stance, before Inukimi whacked him upside his head with her fan.
"Tsk Monk, I thought I made my rules very clear. We are here only for mating and mating only, no killing or otherwise harming of the Castle Occupants is permitted. Is that clear?" asked Inukimi as she glanced between both Miroku and Naraku before the two of them nodded, Naraku realizing just how much more powerful Inukimi was that she was able to bring him back from Wind Tunnel Purgatory.
"Good. Now I shall hold on to this," she indicated the Jewel, "And whoever wants it may fight over it after they leave."
imjaneees08/15/2019
Meanwhile with Kagome, she was lamenting over how her life has turned out the past few hours. Her eyes turned up, "What did I do to deserve this?"
High above, beyond human comprehension, a woman glared heartedly at her brother, who fidgeted on his feet.
"When you told me you wanted a mate for your greatest masterpiece as a birthday present, I generously had her made. A few hundred years in the future yes, but I made sure she would find her way to him. And THIS is how your creations treat her?" the beautiful woman hissed.
Tsukiyomi raised his hands in a human gesture of surrender," Hey, hey, hey, it's not my fault you made her too perfect and now everyone of my children wants her!"
Amaterasu's eyes narrowed to slits," So this is my fault then?!"
Back down to earth, Kagome sneezed the mother of all sneezes. She reached for a cloth to wipe her nose," That's one hell of a sneeze. I wonder who's talking about me."
Only the cloth turned out to be a sleeve and she nervously looked up to just whose clothes she wiped her snot on.
Walter20508/15/2019
"Thanks, Kagome," muttered Sango. She had been putting her top back on, but now that it was drenched in snot she chose to take it off entirely and discard it off to the side of the bed.
"Sorry Sango I...when did you get in here?" asked Kagome dryly, as she was now suffering from the effects of repeated miasma exposure.
"Uhh, me and the Monk had gotten drunk and were trying to find someplace to get...sloppy...when we stumbled in here and found you and...Jaken...," Sango recalled, realizing that she was no longer drunk or tipsy. Had so much time passed or was it a side effect of inhaling the miasma?
"Oh god, thank you thank you so much for stumbling in here. I don't know what was up with Jaken?" wondered Kagome after profusely thanking their accidental intervention.
"I think he might've been possessed, I remember hearing Miroku mention something about Naraku and his evil aura before we were doused with miasma from the toad's staff. Oh Kami, I wonder where the houshi is, I have to get back to him," said Sango as she started to get up to leave.
"Wait Sango! Before you go, I'm sure Miroku is fine with Sesshomaru and Inukimi in the Castle. Actually, I wanted to ask you a few things concerning...mating...and demon rituals...if you knew anything about them...," said Kagome, jumped up to grab her arm before casting her head down with a growing blush while making her request.
"Huh, oh sure I...wait are you thinking of? Heh, well here's what I know, first thing you don't let them push you around, as the female you have all of the power...," Sango explained as she got excited while sitting in bed with Kagome, the monk now completely forgotten as Sango thought of the prospect of Kagome and Sesshomaru.
Stormie Like Weather08/15/2019
Having left to run off some of his wooing Kagome stress, as soon as Sesshomaru reentered the Shiro, a growl rumbled from his chest and he ran to where he could smell both Naraku and Kagome's scent. The door collapsed from his youki alone, the angry energy lashed out like flames around him. The scene before him however instantly quelled it all. His mind blanked. There before him, the object of his desire was tweaking the nipples of the Slayer and asked, "Are you sure men like this too?"
Walter20508/15/2019
The two of them glance up and shrieked before gasping at the sight of Sesshomaru standing there, eyes glowing red, surrounded by his red demonic aura, sword held at the ready. For some reason he was perspiring heavily and was not only armor less but also shirtless as well, wearing only his hakama. Sweat glistened off of his bulging abs, pecks, and bulging shoulders, causing both women to almost immediately start drooling.
"Mate...Naraku...Trouble...Come...Slay...Find...Friend...Sexy...Mate," Sesshomaru growled out loud as he dropped his sword on the ground while advancing towards the bed. He seemed to have considerable troubling controlling himself as a very noticeable bulge formed down under and Kagome looked to her friend in sudden alarm.
"Sango, run, go get help!" Kagome urged her friend while pushing her off the bed. She was the one Sesshomaru wanted (and honestly, in this moment she wouldn't mind having him as well) but he wasn't in his right state of mind.
The Tajiya ran out of the room still half naked, Sesshomaru letting her go with only a side glance before reaching the foot of the bed.
Although she was now more inclined towards Sesshomaru, she was still 50/50 on the whole mating issue. Still, from when she had talked with Inuemi earlier, she knew Sesshomaru in his current state of mind would instantly cut down any male that came into the room and any female would be in danger as well, which is why she had told Sango to run get help, just to get her friend out of harm's way.
She had hoped for better circumstances, but it looks like decision time was now. Gingerly, she held out her hand for him and he grasped it as he jumped into bed with a single leap. Behind him the door slammed close.
On the other side Inukimi placed several locks, a few lengths of chains, and about a dozen seals and barriers over the door.
Stormie Like Weather08/15/2019
"As the female I have all the power..." Kagome reminded herself. Instead of feeling intimidated by the beast of Sesshomaru, she urged him forward, staying just out of his reach but not acting as prey. Small steady hands caught his shoulders. He felt rigid beneath her touch. She did the only thing she could think of, and nuzzled the side of his jaw until he grew less tense. He hadn't shaved since that morning, his prickly jaw teasing her lips as she moved her mouth over his skin and to his ear. "Lay down Sesshomaru." Her fingers ran down his arms, catching his hands so that they maintained contact, and he couldn't grab her, she helped him follow her wishes. His eyes flashed gold for a moment, and she hoped what she was doing would work as she straddled his waist. Only his hakama kept them apart, but it was enough. She leaned down and held his face in her hands as his captured her hips. "I will not be mating you at this time Sesshomaru, not with you so out of control, but I don't mind helping you calm down." And with that she helped him in ways she'd never touched another man.
Walter20508/15/2019
His breathing return to normal along with his eyes as Kagome moved off slightly to the side after helping him to calm down.
"Hnn, that was...I've never met, known, or heard a female that could or would do something like that," he whispered in an (for once) awed voice.
For her part Kagome was no longer as thirsty but now had the lingering taste of salt in her mouth as she cleaned her fingers with her lips, much like a cat.
"It's decently common where I'm from," she replied softly, as she waged an inner war with herself, a battle to jump him now that he was back to his old self versus saving herself for a more suitable time. Sesshomaru saved her the trouble by suddenly pulling her over to him and flipping her end for end.
"Now Mik...Kagome, I shall honor your wishes not to mate at this time, but know this, I shall not let your favor go unreturned on this day," said Sesshomaru before his mouth became preoccupied.
Soon enough Kagome found herself to be thirsty all over again, along with growing increasingly hoarse.
Stormie Like Weather08/16/2019
Chest bouncing, Sango rushed into the dining hall for help. InuKimi was trying to peel an man, that looked just like Naraku, from her legs as she hissed, "I do not care that you think you are powerful, I've seen nothing impressive from you in the past and you will not be getting into my skirts."
"Uh, help?" Sango blinked over at the sight of Miroku staring into his palm, the one that usually was covered and sealed... "Miroku!?" She ran to him, her breasts flopping about as she caught him in a hug and grabbed his open hand. "The tunnel is gone!?"
InuKimi used her fan to slap Naraku away, the thin scratches it left in its wake were already healing, "I have a room to seal." She snapped, stalking off. When one thing went her way, something was bound to go the opposite, like Naraku's sudden infatuation. Hmph.
imjaneees08/16/2019
Inukimi inwardly grimaced. Oh the things she did for her dream of having grand pups. She could still faintly smell the blood on her claws when she killed the witch she commissioned for the lust incense she had put up in hidden corners of the Palace. Idiot thought she could swindle the Western Lady. Amateur. The incense might have been a tad too strong though since everyone but her seemed to be affected. Children these days, such low endurance.
Suddenly there was a crash and in came Kagome with nothing but her strange white neko undergarments. In her hands were a fistful of the incense. She pointed an accusing finger at Inukimi, "You! YOU!" Were the only words the poor miko seemed to be able to form.
Inukimi sighed, "I was hoping you would not notice until after you have been pupped. I suppose I would just have to try harder in my next attempt then."
Walter20508/17/2019
With Naraku taking up residence within the Sky Castle the Band of Thirteen ended up arriving back there as well since they had been wanting to take out the pestering spider hanyou for their groundbreaking first mission together.
Inukui was the first to enter, declaring that she was no longer a part of the Band of 13 and that wasn't what she had in mind when she signed up for the adventuring group. Everyone in the welcome home party was bewildered as to what she meant until in walked Inuyasha with a swollen belly, accompanied by Kouga and Bankotsu.
"I keep telling you it's mine. You were with him only twice whereas I took him nearly every night!" exclaimed Kouga as he laid a hand on Inuyasha's left shoulder.
"You wish! It'd only take one night for me to pup anyone's belly, that's just how great I am. You're probably too impotent as a scrawny wolf," countered Bankotsu with a hand on Inuyasha's right shoulder.
"Keh, guys it doesn't really matter, we'll all be raising my pups, together," Inuyasha replied to the both of them as he patted his belly affectionately before patting each of their hands in turn.
Later, now that the whole group was together again, the girls ended up having a girl's night out at the artificial Castle Hot Springs. Inukimi was still banished due to her Inucense Incident but everyone else was present and having fun with fruits, cheese, spirits, and fun times.
After everyone started getting bombed they start with the silly contests, with the older of them (Inuemi, Inukui, Kagome, Sango, Ayame, Kikyo, Hitomiko, Kagura, Yura, Eri, Yuka, and Ayumi) comparing chest sizes first thing, with the two Inu sisters coming out on top (Inuemi) and bottom (Inukui).
For her part Kagome was just having a great time, her anger over the Inucense forgotten since Inukimi allowed her to use her Inter-dimensional Necklace to bring her friends over for a visit.
Stormie Like Weather08/17/2019
After a rousing game of 'who can bounce the most cherries into Kagome's mouth off thier boobs', again InuEmi being the victor, Kagome finally thought to ask the question that had been on her mind throughout the entire evening, "I wonder what Sesshomaru is up to?" While none of the ladies there knew, on the opposite end of the Shiro, Sesshomaru was being berated for letting his half brother become a father first.
imjaneees08/17/2019
Sesshomaru, with his fce still stuck in the default setting, wondered idly if his choice of resurrecting his father's side hoe was a good idea for the nth time. His father was there, which is a plus, less work for him, but at what cost?
Toga, for his part, was wondering just where Sesshomaru got his perpetually indifference countenance. "Boy, just what is it that's the problem? We both know you desire Kagome, you're practically spelling it out for her. What isn't working? Do you need some pointers?"
Sesshomaru sighed, at what cost indeed.
Stormie Like Weather08/17/2019
As Sesshomaru remained quiet, Toga took his silence to mean he needed all the tips of the trade. Beginning with how he'd won over InuKimi, the three nearby villages' woman, all the mermaids of two of the coastlines, Izayoi, and ended with how he'd managed to bed all the female oni of the underworld. "It's just that easy, son." Inuyasha shouted from his belly rubbing groupies, "There ain't nothing to it! I don't know how you could suck so badly asshole!"
imjaneees08/17/2019
Sesshomaru took a deep breath, "Unlike either of you, my miko is neither a brazen hussy nor a vulgar cretin. She.... Cannot seem to comprehend my signals."
Back in the spring, Kagome sneezed.
Stormie Like Weather08/17/2019
Inukui put her hand to Kagome's head, "You don't feel especially hot for a human..." Shrugging it off, Kagome sighed, "It must be allergies. I'm not sick, and there's no way this many people are talking about me." Eri, Yuka, and Ayumi splashed their way over, "What if they are!?" Eri giggled, "Yeah, there are so many guys here!" Yuka and Ayumi both spoke at once, "And just what is going on between you and the 'killing perfection guy'? He sounds so dreamy!!"
imjaneees08/18/2019
Kagome's lips pursed up in thought, "I'm sure that's not it. I mean, sure he's gotten more physical with me in the past few hours than in the entire years I've known him but maybe it's just the season? I mean, some youkai are affected by the season right?"
Walter20508/18/2019
The four of them were interrupted for the ever increasing next round of naughty games. Now they were having a breast milk judging contest, seeing who had the best tasting milk between those who were currently lactating, the contestants in this instance being Kagome, Sango, Inuemi, and Yuka (who was now married with a child in the present). All of the contestants were blushing madly while the "tasting" phase was going on, with Kagome thinking it was a very good thing that everything below her waist was in the water.
In the end Kagome won surprisingly enough, the others chalking it down to her miko powers causing her to have 'Pure tasting milk'.
"Well we wouldn't know anything about youkai or mating seasons," replied her friends who had only been in the past for a few hours now, "But you two seem to have some real chemistry between you two. Y'all seem like a great match."
"You really think so?" asked Kagome as she gave her friends the gauging side eye with a little blush.
Stormie Like Weather08/18/2019
Eri nodded, "Much better than that two timing bad boy you were after before!" At this, InuEmi's eyes widened, "You were into someone other than my brother, Kagome!?" "Well... not exactly..." She sputtered and took another drink of sake.
Walter20508/18/2019
The peace and quiet of the party was interrupted when Bankotsu suddenly burst into the private spring, causing most of the ladies present to scream and cover up their chests. He had to dodge a few dance of blades, strands of lethal hair, and a wind scar from some of the quickly armed ladies before he could make a placating gesture.
"Ladies I'm really sorry for the intrusion, but Inuyasha has gone into labor and we need some of the towels in here," explained Bankotsu as he grabbed a few of the rags and ran back the other way, closing the doors in his wake. But now Kagome was curious along with some of the others so they hurriedly dressed in towels and went to see the commotion for themselves.
When they arrived in the dining room several of the men were seated there, including Kouga (who was wringing his hands), Sesshomaru, Jaken, Juken, and a few others.
"What's going on?" asked Kagome as she came to stand dripping next to Sesshomaru.
"Exactly as it looks. We were enjoying steaks and games when Inuyasha crapped his pants. We thought it was an upset stomach but it turned out to the male version of his water breaking. He's in labor now with Toga acting as the head nurse with Inukimi, Bankotsu, and Naraku providing backup as midwives," Sesshomaru explained, just as Toga himself burst out of the room. It must have had a sound barrier placed over it because as soon as the door opened they all could heard Inuyasha's pained cries and yelling along with his accusations at both Kouga and Bankotsu.
"I hate to neuter my own son, but we're going to have to do a scrotarium section to get those pups out of there," he said as he wiped blood and poop from his formerly white apron and surgical mask, "Sesshomaru, excuse me for a second but I'm going to borrow Tensiega in case things go south. Naraku, I'll need another spritz of miasma before making the insertion...,"
Quietly, Kagome and the other girls headed back to the hot spring party.
imjaneees08/18/2019
Naraku pinched the bridge of his nose, "And you people ask me why I rarely visit."
Still thinking it bizarre to have Naraku around without something or someone dying, Kagome went back to their hot spring party, still as confused as ever.
High above, the Gods weren't fairing any better with both Tsukiyomi and Amaterasu now wondering where it all went wrong because nothing is happening as it was went to and Kagome still wasn't anywhere near getting mated to the youkai she was made for.
Stormie Like Weather08/18/2019
"Inuyasha... Are you sure you didn't mate with any..one else?" Toga asked his youngest as he pulled back his mask. "I'd never betray the Band of thirteen!" His Father's brows rose, "You're going to have to come up with a better lie than that, son." He chuckled, showing the singleton half in hanyou half worm to his son, "You're going to have to do some explaining..." Inuyasha'who eyes were wide than they had ever been. Naraku, who had been assisting the birth, burst out laughing as he pulled the privacy curtain back and shouted to InuKimi, "Darling! My grandchildren are much cuter than yours!" InuKimi shoved him to the side, "I am not your darling! Now what is this about!?" There wriggling in Toga's arms was a large pink crying work with furry dog ears.
imjaneees08/18/2019
Peeking out of the hotsprings, sensing imminent dismemberment, Kagome reached out and grabbed Naraku by his hair, "Okay, you've got some explaining to do, starting with what the hell you're doing here and how anyone hasn't tried killing you yet." Never mind that she's dragging the hanyou into an all girl's hot spring. Her want to answers is more important than her modesty at the moment.
Inukimi, on the other hand, was giving Toga a long, hard look. "Toga.... What is the meaning of this?"
Walter20508/18/2019
"Why my dear Kagome, I've come here to sow my wild tentacles. Haven't you heard? This is the hottest mating party this side of Honshu," replied Naraku as his hair grew and wrapped around her grabbing arm in return.
"He...Hey!" Kagome exclaimed in protest as he moved closer to her vulnerable form.
"Now supposedly I'm to look for a suitable mate in the last female available for the Inu family, that being Inukui, but I'm just as interested in anyone that meets my fancy, including Kikyo's half-witted hair-brained copy. If Sesshomaru rejects you, then you're fair game," Naraku said both sarcastically and seductively as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, his tentacles coming out of his back to nearly engulf her as he embraced her in a hug.
"Stranger...Danger....," gasped Kagome as Naraku was bear hugging the breathe right out of her.
"Once you settle down, perhaps I can take you to a back room so we can become more...intimately acquainted with one another?" Naraku asking that was the last thing Kagome heard before she blacked out under his squeezing embrace.
Moments later, Sesshomaru saw Naraku carrying Kagome bridal style into one of the back rooms. He knew something was up immediately as she wasn't moving, but when he caught up to them the door to the room was locked and barred from the other side, leaving him growling.
imjaneees08/18/2019
When Sesshomaru managed to finally bust the bloody door open, which was a few hours or so later, the sight that greeted him wasn't what he was imagining. He had expected either blood everywhere or something of the sort but not....this.
There Kagome was, on the hanyou's lap, but not in the sense it was meant for. The girl was bawling her eyes out as Naraku handed her what seemed to be the 20th piece of cloth judging by the amount on the floor. She accepted it and blew her nose.
Kagome sniffed, "And, it's like, all i ever wanted was for someone to love me for me, you know? Not because of who I was before and all that shit, or because of what I can do for them? Is that too much to ask? I mean, I don't look that much like her do I? Like my face is rounder, my eyes are blue," she looked down at her chest," and I'm pretty sure these things are already a cup bigger than hers and I'm not even a full grown adult yet!" and thus more tears ensued and the dark haired hanyou rubbed her back in comfort.
Walter20508/18/2019
"My poor Kagome, all Inuyasha ever wanted you for was a replacement for Kikyo and all the others ever wanted you for was for a shard hunter. Even Sesshomaru just wants you as a pup factory, using your powers as the Shikon Miko to grant himself powerful offspring," soothed Naraku as he rubbed the miko's back.
Truth be told, all he wanted her for was to find where Inukimi was hiding the Shikon Jewel from him at, but Kagome didn't need to know that just yet, not before he had converted her over to his side.
"Yes yes it's all true I'm so worthless they don't want me for me they just want a detector and a pup factory and a replacement," Kagome sobbed even louder now as she blew her nose on one of his tentacles, which used its suction feeder to absorb the snot. Naraku noted that it had a particular taste, sort of like vanilla yogurt.
"There there. Hate them, it's only natural, a normal human reaction. You used to hate me back in the day so you should hate them all now, don't feel bad about it. Hate them, Hate them, Hate Them," Naraku whispered in her ear as he used his fabled St Hakushin conversion method.
Sesshomaru had enough has he stepped forward into the room.
"That's a lie, while I do want Kagome to help produce powerful offspring for me, I love her for who she is, not just what she can do for me. I've had such feelings ever since she had the courage to stand up to me alongside my brother and those feelings have only grown over the years. Since spending the last two weeks with her I've become convinced that those feelings are not misplaced," declared Sesshomaru loudly and boldly.
Naraku was sneering and jeering at his declared attempt to thwart his conversion but Kagome was staring at Sesshomaru wide eyed with her lips trembling.
Slayer08/18/2019
"I believe I can meet all of your requirements Ka Go Me." Sesshomaru said as he walked up to the pair. He pulled Kagome off Naraku's lap and bent her back in a breath stopping kiss.
Slayer08/18/2019
"Stability marriage and love? Yes, I shall have the monk marry us you cant get more stable than me and I love you Kagome." He whispered against her lips.
imjaneees08/18/2019
Naraku was starting to feel all weird with all affection in the air-he summed it up as some form of indigestion -and wondered idly where this sudden very open version of the Western Lord is coming from, but then his eyes landed on the side window and he almost felt sorry for the young, pretty, blue eyed miko.
"Eyes to the window Sweetheart, apparently you missed a few," because there, sitting innocently, were some of the incense Inukimi had commissioned.
14 notes
·
View notes