#this was a good little exercise to loosen up and not put so much pressure on myself while making edits ☺️

[ourstaturestouchtheskies]

five songs i've been loving lately (inspo)

The Magdalene with the Smoking Flame – Georges de La Tour // Firestarter – Haley Blais

Place de Rome at Night – Theodore Earl Butler // Beside Myself – Lights

Calypso – Henri Lehmann // Barbados – Lizzy Farrall

Joan of Arc Series I: The Vision and Inspiration – Louis-Maurice Boutet de Monvel // If It’s Not God – Maddie Zahm

Seascape – Charles-François Daubigny // As I Walk Into the Sea – Allie Crow Buckley

[whimsicallyreading]

For Rowaelin Month day 17

 “A sick day”

CW- PTSD, mentions of violence

Aelin considered herself a fortunate person.

She has survived genocide, her family's murders, losing loved ones, slavery, torture, and the Great War. Now she is a queen, a mother, a beloved Mate.

Her life had changed since those bleak days where she'd wondered if she would ever escape captivity—the days when Aelin didn't know if she would ever be free or find love again. Every morning she woke up curled into Rowan's side, and while she drank her morning tea, Aelin could count on her young daughter snuggling into her lap.

Yes, she was swamped most days, but that was normal for a queen. But even the moments between boring meetings brimmed with life and laughter. Rowan's hand on her thigh beneath the table. Fenrys' theatrics when conversation spiraled off-topic. And even the hardened lords thought it was hilarious when their three-year-old princess barged into councils and demanded her mother's attention.

Her family gathered for dinners at the end of every day. Aelin's little family, Fenrys, Emrys, and Malakai were the regular attendees. Aedion, Lysandra, Elide, and Lorcan joined when they were present. It was a time reserved for family only, and it was by far Aelin's favorite part of the day.

Aelin had a good life now. Her family was growing, and her country thrived beneath her rule.

So it always took her by surprise when a bad day came.

She had woken up fine. Delly had slammed open the chamber door with a gust of wind and squirmed herself between her and Rowan in the early morning. Usually, Aelin treasured the moments when her daughter joined them, but being pregnant again had taken a toll on her sleep.

Rowan tried to stop their child before she entirely collapsed onto Aelin but was a moment too slow. Delly flopped onto her mother's chest in a disarray of wrinkled nightgown and golden curls. Soft sobs were sputtering out of the tiny figure.

I'm sorry. Rowan whispered into her thoughts. He knew how hard pregnancy was on her and took his mate's comfort very seriously. It troubled him that their toddling daughter woke Aelin so abruptly.

Aelin blinks the sleep from her eyes and sends him a happy smile to assure him everything is fine.

"What's wrong, Dell?" Aelin soothes a hand up her baby's quaking form.

Adelia sniffles harder, unable to talk through the tears. She'd started to have bad dreams in recent weeks, but never had she been so inconsolable.

Aelin shifts as Adelia's arms tighten uncomfortably around her bump. Rowan sees her discomfort and reaches around to pull Dell to him instead, but it is met with resistance.

"No," Adelia finally wails. "Mama. I want Mama."

Rowan frowns. Adelia was a daddy's girl to the bone, and this was the first time she'd ever refused to go to him. Their daughter squeezes harder and burrows her face into Aelin's torso.

"Dell," Rowan leans next to her and whispers, a cool breeze brushing against her flushed cheek. "What's wrong little love?"

Adelia lifts her head, and Aelin's heart contracts painfully. Her cheeks are red and swollen from the intensity of her crying, little sobs still stumbling from her chest as Rowan settles her down enough to speak.

"Mama was gone. She was hurt, and she couldn't see me." Dell sniffles, her green eyes glassy. "Can you see me, Mama?"

Aelin tugs her daughter in closer, unable to stand the sight of her so sad. "Yes, of course, I can. I'm right here."

"You were in a box. She wouldn't let me see you," Adelia whimpers in a small voice. "She told me she was gonna keep you. I don't want you to go, Mama."

Aelin's face blanches. It wasn't possible. Her little baby couldn't possibly have seen what was coming to her mind. She looks at Rowan, and his face is pinched with worry.

"It's not real, Dell." Rowan uses a thumb to wipe the tears off her cheek.

Adelia flinches. "Uncle Ress told me it was. He told me Mama had got stollen and put into a box by the bad lady and that she should have stayed there."

Aelin's heart stops. Nausea crawls up her throat, and Rowan tugs Adelia away just in time for her to crawl out of bed and gag into a potted plant. The sickness grips Aelin, the shudders in her arms only growing worse with her daughter's mumbled cries.

"Daddy, I want Mama to stay here." Rowan hushes her and murmurs quiet reassurances. "Don't let her get stollen."

Ress had said that? In front of her daughter? Aelin tries to close her eyes against the visions creeping into her mind. The places her scars used to be ache, and her hands pulse with the remembered pain of reconstruction.

The baby in her womb squirms under its mother's stress, and Aelin throws up again.

She should have stayed there.

Cairn brings the hammer down onto her frail knees, the ringing of cracking bone splits the air.

She should have stayed there.

Aelin opens her eyes to endless darkness. Sweet smoke wafts through invisible holes and sends her to sleep- leaving her mind vulnerable to Maeve's manipulations.

She should have stayed there.

More and more memories swarm behind her eyelids until a pair of grounding arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Fireheart, you are home. You are safe. Can you breathe with me?" Rowan sighs loudly behind her shoulder, and Aelin tries to force her own breath out.

Breathing in is harder, but Rowan's scent fills her nose and loosens the binds on her lungs. Soon, Aelin is doing the exercises independently, and Rowan nuzzles his face into her neck. His hands snake under her bump and lift some of the pressure, easing more of her tension.

"There you are," Rowan kisses her cheek as Aelin comes back around. "Are you okay?"

Aelin shakes her head and sinks into his arms. "Can you take me back to bed?"

Her legs feel like jelly, and her stomach is weak from turning. Rowan lifts her with ease. His arms are warm, and he murmurs sweet nothings into her ear as he carries his mate back to their bed.

"Adelia?" Aelin looks around for their daughter.

Rowan pulls back the duvet and reveals the sleepy from nestled right into the middle of the pillows. "She fell back asleep quickly."

"I can't believe Ress told her those things," Aelin can feel a tear slipping down her face. Ress had never forgiven her for her days as Celaena. Darrow had grown to accept her, but Ress never warmed up to having Aelin as his queen despite her efforts.

She hadn't realized the extent his hatred went.

Rowan scowls as he lays Aelin down next to their daughter. "Ress is young and foolish. I have forgiven a lot of his hostility and ignored most of his juvenile antics, but Aelin, I can't forgive this."

"He should never have said those things to Dell." Ress's words linger in her head. She tried to do right by her title and live up to her parent's legacy. Aelin took a lot of pride in listening to the demands of her people and tending to their problems personally. But the odds of Ress being the only one to feel this way are slim. Did they wish she'd never returned? Was she arrogant to take the crown just because it was her inheritance? She'd never had the formal training as ruler and relied a lot on Rowan to help manage foreign affairs. Despite the loss of her fire, many still feared her and considered her a murderer. No matter how hard she tried, Aelin's history as Adarlan's Assassin proceeded her.

Tears burn Aelin's eyes, and Rowan's scowl deepens. "He should have never spoken of you like that at all."

Aelin shakes her head, "It's his right to think what he wants. Maybe he has a point."

"No." Rowan growls, and Dell flinches in her sleep. Taking a deep breath, Rowan softens his voice. "He's wrong, Aelin. Ress was wrong to scare Dell, and he has no right to demean everything you've sacrificed. You've suffered for your people."

"I closed the lock because I had to Rowan," Aelin argues. "That doesn't automatically make me a good queen. What if I'm failing?"

Rowan pulls their duvet up to Aelin's chin, and Dell instinctively snuggles to her mother's side. Her daughter was a leach for warmth, and Aelin could feel her remaining flames writhing in her veins agitated.

"You are a wonderful ruler, Fireheart." Rowan bends down and kisses her lips reverently. "I've met my fair share of emperors, kings, and queens. None of them have given up so much to better the lives of their people. They care for you in return."

Rowan steps away from the bed, and Aelin makes a displeased noise. "Where are you going so early in the morning."

"I'm awake now. I feel like a flight through Oakwald. Go to sleep, and when you wake up, I'll bring my females breakfast," Rowan pulls on a plain white tunic. "Sleep, love. You both need your rest."

Rowan can read her too well. Aelin can feel her eyes drooping despite how much she wants to deny it. "Very well, but there better be tea and pastries."

As Aelin drifts back to sleep, she swears that a mischievous smile passes across her mate's face.

~~~

"Aelin," Maeve twirls a lock of blonde hair in her fingers. "Where are the keys?"

Cairn twists the blade in her thigh again, and Aelin screams, "screw yourself."

Aelin writhes beneath the pain and the dark queen's gaze. Her torturer goes to twist the blade again, but Maeve holds up a hand. "Wait. There is a smarter way to go about this."

"I won't tell you anything," Aelin gasps, the blood seeping from her thigh pools onto the table. "There is nothing you can do."

"Not even to spare the princess?" Maeve smiles as the cell door opens. Connall walks into the room, a squirming girl in his arms.

"Let me go," the girl screams, and the air in the room turns frigid. Her blonde hair whips around as she twists and fights. The little girl's head turns, and she freezes when she catches sight of Aelin. "Mama?"

"Adelia?" Aelin asks, confused. "You can't be here. You aren't supposed to be here." With renewed energy, Aelin thrashes against her bonds and bares her teeth at Maeve.

Maeve takes Adelia from Connall and strokes her hair. "Such a pretty one."

"This isn't real," Aelin hisses. "I wasn't pregnant when you took me. Adelia was born in Terresan."

Maeve hums a sympathetic note, "It seems you're confused." Aelin fights as the dark queen sits with a frozen Adelia in her lap. "Begin again, Cairn."

A hot iron is lain against Aelin's neck, and Adelia's screams rattle the stone chamber.

~~~

Aelin wakes with a gasp. Her chest is seizing in uncontrollable fits, and little hands cup the sides of her face.

"Mama?" Adelia's concerned face hovers over Aelin's. "Why are you crying?"

Relief washes over her at the sight of her daughter, safe and sound. She tries to take deeper breaths, but her body fights against her. The baby in her womb squirms uncomfortably. Aelin feels guilt that they are so subject to her moods. She tries to open her mouth to speak, consol her frightened daughter, but Aelin can't get any words out.

"Daddy!" Dell screams, frightened tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

Rowan bursts through the door, "Dell?"

Adelia sniffles and kisses Aelin's face sadly, "Daddy, what's wrong with Mama?"

Aelin grabs at her chest, trying to ease the tightness there. She was scaring her daughter. What kind of mother would do that? Rowan sits beside her, and a cool wind goes up her nose and fills her lungs.

"Fireheart," Rowan lifts Adelia and sits beside her. "Is this a sick day?"

It was the code they'd come up with for the days when the past came back to haunt them. When the turmoil in their mind forces their bodies to rebel, and they can't seem to put on their usual facades. It used to shame Aelin, the days she couldn't rise from bed and do her duty. But her mate's unwavering love soon cracked that lie and eased her burden. Rowan had convincing arguments. Aelin's people needed their queen at her best, and on sick days, she wasn't able to give that to them. Their court was strong. They wouldn't allow Terresan to fall while she recovered. Aelin deserved time to heal.

Rowan must have been able to tell that she wouldn't be able to settle herself this time as his winds continued their push and pull in her chest. "Yes," she rasps dejectedly.

Dell buries her face into Rowan's shoulder. Her mate rests a hand on the side of her face and soothes her cheek. "To whatever end, Aelin. We will get through this just as we do everything else."

Rowan kisses the side of Dell's face. "Little love, do you think you can go to the kitchens and have someone bring Mama tea?"

That fae instinct to fuss rears its head in their child. Adelia perks up at the opportunity to do something useful. "Yes!"

Rowan sets her on the floor, and she takes off in a blur of untamed hair and swishing skirts. They wince as a gust of wind slams the doors of their chambers against the wall.

"She's a handful," Rowan talks, aware of the soothing effect his voice has on her. "But we always knew our children would be. I can't wait to see what kind of chaos our son brings into our lives."

Aelin wraps her arms around him as the remnants of her dreams finally fade away. "You think it's a boy?"

"I know so," Rowan pinches her side, and Aelin smiles. He'd also been confident that their first child would be a girl. His smugness after Adelia's birth was unbearable.

"Rowan," Aelin whispers. "Can we just lay here today?"

"I could never deny you anything," Rowan leans against their headboard and kicks off his shoes. "You don't need to ask, Aelin. It's okay to take time for yourself."

"What if I'm just proving Ress right?" The insecurity slips from her lips before she can stop them. "What if there is someone more capable?"

"Ress won't be a problem anymore," Rowan rests a hand against her bump, and the baby withing kicks at it, bringing a smile to his face.

Aelin narrows her eyes, "What have you done?"

"Nothing that anyone will blame me for," Rowan assures. "He would be in a lot more trouble if the rest of the court learned what he said in front of Dell. Ress should be grateful I didn't do a lot worse."

Aelin sighs, "I don't understand why I can't just let it all go. Why do I allow myself to be so haunted?"

"It's not that simple," Rowan shakes his head. "I'm hundreds of years old, and no matter how many years pass, there are things from my past that haven't healed. The mind is different from the body, and sometimes it takes longer for it to recover. There is nothing wrong with that. You gave up everything for the people you loved."

"Because I had to," Aelin contradicts.

A hardness comes over Rowan, "because no one else could."

Rowan rolls over her body into a plank and looks deep into her eyes. "No one else that day would have made the same sacrifices out of love. Not even me. I was too selfish to let you go. You gave up everything, and by the strength in your soul, you came home to me. In all my decades, I have never met someone so remarkable, and I never will again. Take as many years as you need to recover, Aelin. This world owes a debt to you, and I will make sure it pays. You deserve every happiness."

His hand threads through one of hers and drags it up to rest on the bump between them.

Happiness.

Dell darts back into their room, a cup of tea sloshing in her hands as she runs. "Daddy, I put extra sugar in it. Uncle Fen is coming with more cups, but I made this one special."

Rowan pulls away from her, and the laughter on his face is contagious.  

Aelin smiles and accepts the tea from Dell's hands. She even manages a few sips without cringing from the sweetness. Fenrys follows behind her shortly and sets a fresh cup covertly on her bedside table.

There may be hard days, Aelin realizes as her family gathers around her, but the love they showed her every day made it all worth it.

[daydreamingatnight209]

Okay so this was a passion project that I really wanted to write, I probably won’t do another and I still don’t feel comfortable writing smut for other people so please do not request it!

Minors please do not read or engage with this post as it is for 18+ only!

Also a big thank you to @erin-bo-berin for helping and encouraging me to continue this project!

Feedback is always welcome! ✨💕

“Alpha-Male Bullshit”

Part 1

Azriel x Female Reader - Part 1

Fandom - ACOTAR

Warnings - Violence, sexual themes, 18+ only, minor spoilers for ACOSF, angst and fluff! 💞☁️

———————————————————————

Lucien Vanserra was a terrible flirt; not because he wasn’t good at it, but because he was constantly flirting with me.

In the beginning I went along with it; I was bored and felt lonely. Cassian had Nesta, everyone knew Rhys had Feyre and Nyx their sweet baby boy, Elain kept busy with her garden and I barely saw our spymaster.

I split my time between training and reading in my chambers.

So, what harm could a bit of flirty banter do between friends?

I didn’t think it would do anything, but Lucien is certainly consistent.

I had a rare free day and found myself in a quiet corner of the library ran by the High Priestess ,Clotho.

It was one of my favourite places to be. The noise in my head stopped, all the pressure and responsibility’s for the court just faded away. I am transported to a land far away.

I was halfway through a steamy romance that Nesta had given me a couple of days ago. We stayed up most nights talking about books and how Cassian had made it his mission to try each technique in the book for Nesta’s pleasure. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he was doing, Nesta made that very clear but it was certainly good fun. It made me laugh but it also flushed my body with an incredible sadness. These books were about as close of a love life that I had.

I was lost in my head and the fictional visions that I created with the words on the page when I heard a familiar voice. It made me jump slightly and I heard his deep laugh.

“I knew Nesta loved smut, but I didn’t think your innocent little mind liked it...but then again, I’m sure that pretty little mouth isn’t all that innocent is it?”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn to face him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, my dear”

I smirk and snap my book back open.

“Are you hoping to live out some of those scenes in those books of Nesta’s like she now is?”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. A moment passed and I feel his breath on my neck.

“If so, you know where to find me.” He whispers in my ear, before pressing a nimble kiss on my neck and spinning on his heel to walk away.

I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and groaned in frustration.

Placing my bookmark back in between the pages, I rose from the chair and left the comforting walls of the library, waving goodbye to the passing priestesses.

I wander aimlessly around the property, taking in the cool atmosphere. The training ring was empty, or so I thought. As I approached it, I spotted a familiar stature. His shadows swirling around his figure as he went through his training exercises.

I sat on the rocks beside the ring as he comes to a stand-still.

“Are you okay Y/N?” He asks softly.

I smile and rub my eyes.

“Yes, I’m just hiding from Lucien. He’s definitely spending way too much time with Rhys and Cassian. He sounds exactly like them.

But , maybe flirting with him could be fun. No one else pays much attention around here to me anyway”

Wherever Azriel goes in his head, my remark seemed to snap him away from his flyaway thoughts.

His eyes blazed and he took a warrior stance. He chest puffed and looked ready to fly at a moments notice.

“Do you need me to have a word with him?”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his overprotective response.

“No Az, it’s okay. I don’t think he fancies losing his other eye. Thank you anyway”

He just nods and returns back to his exercises.

I take this as my cue to leave.

————————————

Nesta finds me in my room later that evening and informs me that Rhys has planned a family dinner and I am required to attend.

She then prances off to her own chambers.

I rummage through my closet and pick out a gown that had fallen down the back.

It was a deep blue, that sparkled in the correct light. It plunged, exposing more of my breasts than usual and the slit started just passed my thigh, with the material of the dress hugging my body tightly.

Mor had gifted it to me last winter solstice but I hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet. No time like the present, I suppose.

I didn’t have time to style my hair dramatically, so I let my long light brown curls fall loosely down my back.

I fiddled around to find a matching bag and heels before slowly descending down the glass staircase.

All eyes were on me as I entered the dining room. The room was eerily silent.

Panic slowly begins to envelope me.

“It’s not too much is it?” I squeak.

Lucien stands and almost knocks down his chair.

“Absolutely not! My god Y/N I thought the wine would be what loosened my tongue tonight, but it looks like that dress is what’s gonna do it instead.

Unbeknown to me, Azriel’s shadows swamped around, doing their best to keep my modesty protected from Lucien’s lewd comments.

“All bark, no bite Lucien. What a shame” I shoot back and take my place beside Elain.

Azriel was seated across from Elain and did his best to contain his rage against Lucien.

I noticed this sudden shift of tension in the room between the two males but decided that now was not the time to bring it up. Especially not in front of the family.

Elain however didn’t seem to have this incentive and piped up.

“Are you okay, Az?” She asks sweetly. She attempts to take his hand. Azriel lets her hold his hand for a millisecond, before quickly pulling away.

I knew he was insecure about his hands and how they have seen years of battle, yet that wasn’t what bothered me most.

What bothered me most, was hearing my nickname for Azriel fall out of Elain’s mouth so casually.

It wasn’t that I disliked Elain, in fact I was happy for her. She is happy and healthy, was quick to adapt to the ways of Fae and everyone in the court had watched her confidence grow tremendously.

Yes, I was happy for her. Yet every time I caught her talking with Azriel, a wave of jealousy would come over me.

Elain didn’t want Lucien and Azriel didn’t want me, not in that way at least.

Everyone was on their way to a happy ending... everyone but me.

I let out a small cough and continue with the evening. Lucien kept up with his filthy ways and I kept up my responses. Cassian laughed with Rhys and Feyre discussed baby clothes with Nesta.

It felt as time had stopped, as I drunk in moment.

Eventually everyone slid off one by one. Amren and Varian first and soon the rest followed.

Mor invited me to her room so that we could spend some time together. I respectfully declined, desperate to climb into my bed.

——————————

Azriel couldn’t sleep. He stood on the balcony and stared into the distance. It was a clear night, the stars shined brightly above him.

As trained as Azriel was, he was still no match for his High Lord’s stealth.

Not that he would admit it to anymore, but his heart missed a beat when he suddenly heard Rhysand’s voice boom behind him.

“Okay Az, what the hell is going on around here? Seriously I have Elain basically drooling over you, Lucien Vanserra flirting with y/n and she’s flirting BACK, and you’re strung tighter than an Illyrian bow”

Azriel wasn’t ready to admit the truth but if he didn’t soon then he had no idea how the hell he would cope, especially after seeing you at dinner earlier. It took all of his strength to remain seated and not knock Lucien from his seat. His cock had strained against his pants so much that it had become painful. He felt Ferrell and you didn’t have a clue.

So Azriel turned around, folded his wings, and stood straight.

“Y/N is my mate”

It took Rhysand a moment to adjust to what he had just heard.

He clapped his brother on the shoulder and cheered, but his celebration was short lived when he saw the sour look on Azriel’s face.

“Okay ... so why do look like you’ve just been slapped in the face with a fish?”

“Because she’s absolutely oblivious! You’ve seen it yourself, the way she is around Lucien. Just because his mate doesn’t want him doesn’t mean he is entitled to mine!” Azriel explodes and doesn’t give Rhys a chance to respond before he launches himself into the night sky.

He spends the night flying around the city before returning at early dawn.

He is surprised to find Y/N stood outside his bedroom door.

She spins around before he could call her name.

You flash a smile that could bring him to his knees.

“I felt your shadows behind me.” You giggle.

“Anyway, I am only here to tell you that Rhys and Feyre are heading down to the cabin for the night. I said we would look after baby Nyx. Is that okay?”

Azriel tried to focus on what you were saying and not your scent. He just nods in response and as you hop towards him. You fling your arms around him and hug.

Azriel just prayed to the saints that you couldn’t feel his member begging to be released beneath his trousers.

————————————————

Nyx was certainly a handful, he was growing quickly and wanted to explore the world. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to crawl which meant keeping him away from pretty much everything in the house. I was just glad he hadn’t learnt how to use his wings yet.

Eventually he powered down and settled in my lap, he was fed, clean and happy. Meanwhile I learnt that I definitely wasn’t ready for children yet.

“How is he?” Azriel yawned as Nyx’s eyes slowly dropped shut, his thumb in his mouth.

I cradled the small boy in my arms as Azriel sat beside me.

“I will go put him to bed in a moment, he just looks so peaceful” I whispered.

Az just laughed.

“You weren’t saying that before when he was destroying the place”

I roll my eyes and gently lift my body up from the sofa before walking to the nursery.

When I entered the living quarters again, I found Az with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Want one?” He asks.

I shrug. “Sure, why not”

We sat in a comfortable silence before I was brave enough to speak up.

“So, are you going to tell me why you have been so uptight lately? Is it work?”

Azriel’s comfortable posture, stiffens and he is back on high alert.

Seeing this, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

I shouldn’t force him to talk, it’s not like he’d want to open up to me anyway.

I decide to change the subject.

“Is it true that the bigger a wingspan, the bigger the dick?”

I watch as Azriel splutters and does his best not to leak his drink over the cream coloured carpet.

“I erm... what?!”

I laugh at the reaction and start to inch closer to him.

I’m high on liquid courage, no way would I ever do this sober.

“Feyre told me that fae wings are super sensitive”

I wrap my legs over each side and place myself down on his lap. He grips me in place and grunts slightly but doesn’t say anything.

I delicately run two fingers down his right wing, they are soft, almost like velvet, yet they shine when the light is right.

“Nesta even said that some men cum from a single touch... if in the right place” I whisper in his ear, placing small light kisses down his neck as my fingers continue to dance over every individual feather. His hips buck upwards involuntarily, and I smirk.

“Well it was something like that anyways”

I remove myself from his lap to drink from my wine glass. Azriel sat grinding his teeth, showing incredible restraint.

I head over to the kitchen and place the empty dishes and glasses in the sink, staying in just the right places so Az still got a full view.

He suddenly springs up from his own seat and follows me into the kitchen. He corners me and I try to remain stoic.

He picks me up like I weigh nothing and rests his body in between my legs.

He uses one hand to brush my hair out of my face and the other to casually trace patterns on my thigh.

His voice was low, and his shadows danced behind him.

“Rumour has it, the bigger the wingspan the bigger dick, right? Well Rhys likes to claim he has the biggest but one drunken night we measured... I’m forbidden to tell anyone this but… I won” he winks and suddenly pulls away acting so very nonchalant.

“The wing thing, I personally don’t know because apparently I haven’t had the right bed mate for that”

There was no stopping me after that. I hook my feet around his knees and use all my strength to pull his body back to mine.

Our faces crash together as we kiss and our tongues battle for dominance. My hands roam his body as I slip them under his shirt. His hands copy my actions and I couldn’t help but groan into him as he gets familiar.

Eventually we pull away for air and our eyes lock for what felt like forever and a day. This unfamiliar feeling of euphoria rushed over my body, attacking my senses. It attacked every inch of me. It felt as if my soul would burst open for the world to see.

The sudden panic that came straight after snapped me back into reality. I broke away from the male in front of me as I gasped for air. Silent tears ran down my face.

I pushed Azriel away with force and ran from the room.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry I can’t-“

I ran to my room and collapsed down the back of the door.

What was happening?

———————————————————

PART 2 is on its way!!

[ashbrea381writings]

Flying Blind: Chapter 2, Meeting the Bats

“Bunnyx? Should I be concerned?” Ladybug asked, turning to look at the person behind her. Bunnyx was obviously a good five or so years older than the rest of the team, and Batman would have shrugged it off if it weren’t for the next words from Bunnyx’s mouth.

“Nah, I wanted to be at this meeting since current me wasn’t.” Bunnyx pulled up a chair and flipped it backwards to sit on it that way. “To explain, Batman, I can’t tell them too much or the timeline would become unstable, and that really isn’t good. I help where I can and where they are going astray from the correct timeline.”

“Who is to say the correct timeline?” Robin asked. “Couldn’t you nudge it into a more favorable outcome?”

“Not without disappearing. Back to the Future style.” Bunnyx commented bitterly. “Been there, almost disappeared, it sucked. But I can tell you this, LB, it’s okay to trust them with the info you’ve got so far. They’re very helpful.”

“Thanks Bunnyx. Sticking around?” Ladybug asked, handing them a plate with some pastries.

“For the best pastries in Paris for free? Yes, for sure.” Bunnyx started laughing as they took the plate and took a few steps back. “I’m probably gonna let you all strategize without me though, I just wanted to hear the convo I missed the first time ‘round.”

“Oh please, you know they would feed every one of you guys for free if you asked. Unless you’ve had a falling out in the future I don’t currently know about?” Ladybug teased, loosening up more than she had so far.

“Nah, but at the point I’m at, I’m trying not to drain them, you have no idea how much time travel makes you hungry.” Bunnyx chuckled. “Besides, with the rest of these guys stopping by constantly, I’m surprised they even manage to make any money.”

Ladybug shook her head but didn’t comment, turning back to Batman and sighing. “We also have a friend who cannot always help out in battle for civilian reasons. That is Tempest, who has the ability to transform into three different forms; lightning, air, and water.”

“And you’re all about the same age?” Batman asked, his frown deepening.

“More or less, within about a year and a half from oldest to youngest.” Chat confirmed as Ladybug nodded. “We try not to advertise our real ages for both identity reasons, and to try and control just how many people don’t want us doing this due to our ages.”

“And you have no mentor? No Adult to pull you out if things get rough?” Batman’s voice was incredulous, and he sat up even straighter in his seat.

“Unless you count Bunnyx who jumps back from the future now and then to check in.” Chat joked, poking said hero in the ribs.

“Watch it, Kitty-Cat, I can and will send my younger self something embarrassing about you.” Bunnyx slapped his hand away, but sounded bored.

“Who gave you your powers then? You said before that you got your abilities from items?” Robin asked, leaning forward and bracing his arms on the table.

“Like I said, he gave up his memories to protect more of the artifacts.” Ladybug sighed, “The items in question are individually called the Miraculous. There is a box that I have custody of that usually holds them. I won’t say how many there are. Right now I’m letting each person here use one, Chat and I were picked by the former Guardian. When Hawkmoth found out the identity of the former Guardian, he attempted to find out our identities too and wanted to steal the box for himself.” Ladybug stood and began to pace slightly in the little room there was. “During the battle, Chat and I were able to retrieve the contents, and the former Guardian transferred his title to me. The magic of the Miraculous wiped his memories to keep the secrets of the Miraculous from ever being taken from him.”

“So not only are you a superhero as a teenager, but you guard a set of ancient artifacts that each hold incredible power?!” Batman stood abruptly. “If there is some sort of title involved, who gave that title to your mentor?”

“People who are a combination of long gone or not welcome here due to antiquated ways.” Ladybug snapped harshly. “Do not presume to know what is going on with us. Age does not mean wisdom, just that you assume you know what is best for other people.”

Batman took a step back and sighed. “I am angry on your behalf that you were put under this amount of pressure.” He took a moment to calm himself and shook his head. “Am I correct to assume that Hawkmoth is of a similar age to me?”

Ladybug studied Batman for a few moments, sharing glances with a few of the other teammates who all made some sort of gesture or facial expression that they understood among themselves. “Roughly, yes, we cannot be precise but I would judge you and him to be within 3 or so years of each other.”

“What other information do you have? We might be able to help figure him out.”

“It will be difficult, the magic of the Miraculous makes it difficult to pinpoint an identity, and tends to make you want to drop the search. Although, there are some exceptions. Rena figured Carapace out after meeting him in the mask twice.” Ladybug pointed out. At that comment, Rena chuckled and elbowed a blushing Carapace.

“Not fair, LB, you know why it was that easy for her to figure me out.” Carapace muttered, pulling his hood lower over his face.

“My point is, maybe someone with an outside perspective would be able to push past it.” Ladybug shook her head at her friends. “Here, this has everything we’ve observed about Hawkmoth, and information that will help you to identify him more easily. Some of that information covers Miraculous holders in general from our own observations about ourselves. Don’t look into our identities with this, just Hawkmoth.”

“What kind of information?” Batman asked, taking the flash drive.

“How much of a height difference we have when we transform, how much things like hair and eye color change, Chat is an exception for the eyes part.” Chat gave a bow as Ladybug said his name. “It also has Hawkmoth’s approximate measurements from what I’ve been able to figure out the few times we’ve seen him in person. He’s a very tall, slender man.”

Batman handed the flash drive to Robin, who plugged it into a screen on his glove, asking quietly, “Hmmm, how accurate are these measurements and how did you get them?”

“I’m good at sizing people, there’s a civilian reason for it that I won’t name. I could probably give you yours if you wanted.” Ladybug chuckled.

“She’s nearly dead-on, actually, I’ve seen it in action.” Chat added, smirking. “Like that time she figured out who was who at a costume party.”

“That was one time and it was a bet, King Monkey should have known better than to challenge me, he’s known me for years.” Ladybug sniffed. “Besides, it was a good team-building exercise for me to identify you guys in the crowd while you switched costumes.”

“Team building exercise?” Batman seemed unconvinced.

“We’d only just decided that we all needed to know who each other were. So we went to a big costume party with several quick change outfits and tried to identify each other so we’d always know who was who even if we switched Miraculi.” Ladybug explained.

“You all know each other as civilians?” Robin asked, looking shocked.

“After what happened with the former Guardian, I was rather… Stressed and didn’t have a way to tell anyone why it was so bad, so I confided in Rena, and she basically told me that it was time we all knew each other. She’d known Carapace from the start and he found out about her shortly after, so it was something that just made sense. We coordinate better now and know what’s going on in each other’s lives and can adjust for it.” Ladybug shrugged. “We know if one of us is sick, or busy, or can’t get away from civilian life long enough to handle Akuma’s now. We’re more coordinated in our plans and can cover for each other both as heroes and civilians.”

“Do your families know you’re all doing this?” Batman asked quietly, seeming to think about the situation.

“One of us has parents that know, I won’t say who.” Ladybug crossed her arms and stared the Bat down.

“And what do they think?”

Chat chucked, “They’ve basically adopted everyone who wasn’t their kid already and told everyone to stop by anytime. They also keep an eye on the news and give excuses for the one that’s their kid to make sure they get to be at Akuma fights when they’re needed for it.”

“They also offered to patch us up if there’s ever an injury that the Cure doesn’t fix. We haven’t run into that problem yet though.” Honey Bee added, making a gesture like she would start touching up her manicure before being stopped short by her gloves. “By the way, Bug, you need to teach us how to adjust our suits manually, you said there was a way.”

“That’s an entire Saturday on it’s own, Bee, save it for the next girl’s day.” Ladybug waved her off casually.  “Now, I’m sure you guys have what you need to start the investigation with you?”

“Yes, we’ll keep you posted.” Batman held out a comm unit to Ladybug. “The batteries last three days, if it takes longer than that I can meet you here to switch out. It’s also undetectable while you’re wearing it and muting it and turning it on and off is intuitive.”

“MmmmHmmm, I’m willing to bet it’s also a tracker. Pegasus, take a look?” She passed the device to said hero and he plugged it into a small tablet he pulled out of a pocket.

“There is the ability for it to track movements, but that was disabled before I even touched it.” Pegasus handed it and Ladybug tucked it into her ear, testing the settings a bit before leaving it muted but on.

“I know how important secret identities are, the tracker is only in there because it’s the same type as what Robin uses and I’d rather not have him injured somewhere and not be able to get ahold of him.”

“I still don’t like the tracker either, B.” Robin muttered, causing the Miraculous holders to chuckle.

“We can track each other when we’re suited up.” Ladybug swept a hand around the group. “It’s useful to know when each other is on the way or where someone is when you need to meet up.”

“Anyway, we all have places to be, so we’ll check in once and a while through LB to see how it’s going.” Chat said, cleaning off the table and tucking the dishes back into the baskets they came from. “Bee, here’s yours, I think you’ll be missed sooner.” He passed one off the Honeybee who promptly zipped away on her top, waving as she passed over the building. “LB, delicious as always, I need to convince them to teach me their ways.” He sighed, handing Ladybug a basket.

“Don’t be shy, if you ask I’m sure they’d show you. They don’t have anyone willing to take over when they retire, and it might be good for you to have a job like a normal person.” She laughed, taking the larger basket and setting it on the ground before wiping down the table with a cloth she’d pulled out.

“Don’t think I won’t… Next time I’m home alone for the weekend, I’m there.” He laughed and collapsed the table after she wiped it. One by one, the other Miraculous holders put away the chairs and helped Chat wrangle the table into it’s storage shed.

“How often do you guys do this?” Robin asked, watching as the other heroes took off in separate directions.

“As often as we have the time and can get away from our civilian lives. Since we all know each other, it isn’t as hard as it was.” Ladybug shrugged, ruffling Chat’s hair.

“We keep it to a reasonable amount of time and not everyone is always able to make it, but it’s always a nice way to get in some bonding time with the team.” Chat added, pushing Ladybug’s hand off of him. “We’re basically family to each other at this point, so we don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t spend time together. I gotta run, it’s almost time for my next thing.” He sighed and launched himself up with his stick, waving at them and running across the rooftops.

“We’ll be in contact, and I’ll be listening on the comm.” Ladybug pointed to her ear where the device was invisible to any who didn’t know it was there.

With that, the rest of the remaining heroes left, leaving Batman and Robin in a closed-off alley with a beautiful garden and a small shed. “Want me to check what else is in the shed?” Robin asked after making sure his comm was muted.

“No, there was nowhere to hide anything, it’s only big enough for the stuff that’s in there and they left it open the whole time we were talking.” Batman sighed and looked at the sky that was going pink with dusk. “Let’s get to the hotel.”

[writing-in-april]

The Five Stages of Grief

Stage five: Acceptance (5/5)

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer’s POV)

Thanks to @zhuzhubii who helped me so much with this series and made this gif for me 🥰

Summary: Spencer going through each of the stages of grief after the death of the reader. Stage five is acceptance.

A/N: Can’t believe my first series on here is done!!! I’m not gonna lie you guys this chapter is super emotional for me- I no joke cried the whole time while writing it and while rereading to edit. I basically have been going through the same thing recently with my Nana. This chapter is very close to my heart and is definitely the most personal chapter for me. The whole series is actually heavily inspired by season 3 episode 19 -one of my favorite episodes of criminal minds- and I also used elements from season 3 episode 15. This also kinda helps explain a lot of my writing choices throughout the whole series if you’re curious. I did my first real attempt at foreshadowing in this series, I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for all the love and support on this series- with a special thanks to @spencerreidsmiles and @andiebeaword -you all have been so lovely and amazing.

Warnings (All warnings for the whole series are on series Masterlist): Sad Spencer, References to past drug use, References to past suicidal behaviors, Small panic attack, Hopeful Spencer, Unreliable narrator (much less so in this chapter)

Main Masterlist | The 5 Stages Masterlist Word Count: 3.5k (longest chapter)

It’s been a year; One full year since they had died in my arms. One full year since they had been shot so cruelly by a heartless unsub in an alley. One full year since I had been graced with their presence and the sound of their voice.

The elements of my emotions were extremely complex according to my therapist, and surprisingly I found myself starting to feel the benefits with them more every time I went to an individual session or a group session. It was hard for me to realize that I would have to learn to accept my situation.

It was hard to learn how to understand my own emotions when I had been so willing to shut them out, to try and convince myself that they didn’t exist.

I had begun to learn that I carried around the water that felt like I could drown in, the fire that burned so hot that anyone near it would get burned, the earth that I had wished would bury me with the pebbles I had chosen to cope with, and even the polluted air of my sadness around with me everyday. But, now I somewhat accepted the fact that they would always be with me, or at least I was trying to.

I had to learn to accept.

Even if it hurt I had to learn to at least try.

The next goal I had been given by the therapist was the most daunting of my tasks yet in my opinion. Trying to convince myself to open the boxes in the corner of the bedroom I had once shared with Y/N was harder than trying to get clean. The thought that had propelled me forward into getting clean was that I felt as though I would be disrespecting Y/N by not staying clean. They had been the reason all those years ago that I had spilled the clear liquid down the toilet and I needed to do it again, if only for them.

The boxes were something that were easier to ignore. I could ignore them by turning my back to the stack of boxes, choosing instead to stare at the painted walls of my apartment instead. There was no reason for me to stop ignoring the boxes, no one was trying to pressure me to open them besides my therapist. Everyone else in my life had no expectations for me to open them at any time, if ever, including Y/N’s family.

But, it had begun to feel like maybe I could try to attempt to open the boxes. I wasn’t sure what had finally prompted my brain into thinking that perhaps it would be a good thing to stop ignoring it. I stopped trying to understand why my mind works the way it does long ago, I had poured enough time into my life thinking about that.

I had felt this overwhelming urge to be able to look back at things that once belonged to them with some semblance of peace. I wanted to enjoy the memories we had together once more. I was tired of letting the memories get soiled by the unsub, I deserved to still think back on the one that I loved with a smile. I deserved to be able to preserve their memories with happiness and not let them sour with sadness. I wouldn’t let the unsub be able to kill something else while he was behind bars, my memories.

I was ready.

I was ready to open those boxes.

I was ready to at least try.

I was ready to try and look back at the memories.

I wasn’t going to let their memory die too.

My first attempt to open the boxes in the corner of my bedroom consisted of me staring for two hours at the stacks. I knew that I at least wanted to try to attempt to open a box, even if it was the smallest of the bunch.

That day I had gotten the lid of one of the boxes open. That was as much as I could handle emotionally in that moment. There was a small part of myself that wanted to push myself to look inside the box, but I couldn’t do it that night. That night I laid down on the bed, again facing the wall, unwilling to look at the boxes. I knew if I did I’d feel as if I had failed and I had to keep trying to convince myself that small progress was still progress.

I tried again despite the swirling anxiety in the hole in my chest.

I was still willing because I still wanted to have my memories unsullied by sadness.

I still knew that I deserved that despite my volatile elemental emotions threatening to push me into another toxic loop.

The next time I tried to look in the box I had previously opened just a little I immediately got choked, recognizing the contents sat at the top surrounded by other smaller insignificant items. I only managed to grab one of their old tchotchkes that used to sit on their desk in the bullpen. It was insignificant enough of an item that it didn’t make me fall into an endless loop of my emotions. I clutched it all night while I tried to sleep, though I still faced away from the boxes.

I hadn’t given up yet I still wanted to try, if only for them.

I would still try for them, even if I didn’t succeed, I still felt better for trying.

It had taken me awhile to muster up the courage to look at the box again, even though I still wanted to try I was scared that the contents would be too much for my fragile psyche. What I had gotten a glimpse of at the top of the box was something that used to be important for Y/N.

The next time I tried to look I successfully managed to pick up the item that had triggered the painful memory in my mind. It was ironically, it was another box.

The box wasn’t something that was explicitly tied to memories that we shared together. I knew it to be a music box from their childhood, given to them by someone that had meant so much to them. Out of curiosity I cranked the knob on the side and slowly opened the lid, wondering if I could handle the sounds of a song that I had often heard every time they had opened it to listen to the twinkle of the box they cherished.

As soon as the beginning notes of Swan Lake floated into the air I slammed to top shut, unwilling to open up the box of my emotions all the way just yet. I knew I couldn’t get rid of it, it was too important of an artifact in Y/N’s life. Though I knew that this wasn’t something I could keep to myself, this belonged to Y/N’s family. I clutched the box for a second in my arms when I came to the realization that the trinket should be with someone else as if it would be cruelly ripped from my arms right then and there. I felt a little fire being stoked in my belly at the thought of people taking it from me, even though there was no one there in my lonely apartment with me.

I started a breathing exercise that my therapist had told me to use when I felt like this. No matter how much it pained me to admit it, it did help immensely in snuffing out the emotions when I could feel them begin to spiral out of control.

I couldn’t let myself fall into an endless loop of volatile emotions again. I had worked hard to get clean after I had started to write my amends. It had been a hard uphill battle even after I had written down my amends, my grief hadn’t magically gone away that day. Getting clean had been much harder without my rock and the person who had helped me get clean the first time around. I wouldn’t disrespect their memory by going back to dilaudid again.

Once the initial fear began to fade and my breathing had grown steady I forced myself to loosen my grip on the music box. I then carefully set it down in a place that would be suitable enough for a stack of things I’d pass off to other people that had been important to them. I hoped I’d soon be ready to make a donation pile despite that I despised the mere thought of giving something away that belonged to them to a mere stranger.

It was already too much for today, I could only bear looking at the one item. I didn't know how I’d be able to handle it if the box was filled with more trinkets that were important to them. I did however find myself thinking when I laid down on my bed for the night after a hot shower to relax my mind. I found my mind thinking about the trinkets they’d had an affinity for collecting. It still brought tears to my eyes to think about giving away their stuff, even if it was to people who also mattered in their life. But, I found myself thinking about their old cute little trinkets without as much pain, though it was definitely still there.

Maybe tomorrow when I try, I’d do better.

The small box that I had begun to unpack over a series of days didn’t hold anything else seemingly important to Y/N’s life. Besides the music box I had found prior, the small box was only filled with unimportant trinkets that thankfully didn’t spark much meaning in my mind. It was obvious that when the team had initially helped me to put their stuff away until I was ready that things had been put away in a slight haste. They must’ve done it so quickly as a way to try and help me. The animosity that I had held towards my team for the last year because of Y/N’s death had been slowly melting away over time. I still wasn’t as friendly as I had been before, but I knew my frigid nature after the event hadn’t been justified. I knew now that they had only my best interests at heart, even if they didn’t always pinpoint what they were correctly. I had even begun to regain some of my desk duties once I had gotten clean. It had felt good to feel somewhat normal even though the sight of their desk directly across from mine and their still empty round table chair still made my heart pang with grief.

I had even begun texting them more frequently again, though I was still aversive to text, so I guess it still wasn’t that often. Some things really do never change despite the fact that my life had turned on its head in the past year. I had even begun to write letters to my mom again.

I knew I was lucky to still have people by my side, even if it wasn’t the one I knew deep down I still wanted with me.

I thought I could have at least done the box without crying anymore.

That was until I found something at the bottom of the box that made the dam holding my memories back in my mind break to flood my mind. The book would probably seem inconsequential compared to the rest of the items that I knew sat in the other boxes. Most people would assume after just looking at the surface level what items of Y/N’s meant most to me, the ones I wanted to keep. The black paper back was well worn around the edges, almost like if I read it too frequently and I wasn’t too careful that the spine would break. I ran my fingers up and down the battered book as I began to willingly reminisce. To other people the book would’ve looked beaten already beyond repair, maybe as if it had not been loved enough, battered perhaps because of neglect.

But, just like me I knew that Y/N had loved the book more than most people would be willing to.

I knew that I wanted to keep this book, no matter how painful I knew their contents would be for me. I hoped that I’d be able to read it so much that I’d be afraid for the binding of the book, just to be able to feel close to them again. Though I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to dig up this particular memory, it might still be too painful for me.

I remember they had bought this book for us after I had connected with a grieving father on a case. He had specifically quoted a poem to me that stuck with me for weeks after. Once I had told them of the excerpt quoted to me they had immediately grabbed a copy of where it had originated from, a long Wordsworth poem. The book “Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood” became their favorite quickly, in fact it used to take residence in the top drawer of their nightstand. They had often loved to read me their favorite excerpts at night just before bed when my eyes couldn’t stand to focus on the pages anymore.

When I opened the well worn book it flipped open to where they had set their bookmark last, I recognized the excerpt immediately. My breath got caught up in my throat when the words danced around in my vision. I wasn’t sure if I could face this specific excerpt quite yet, or even be able to read any part of the poem. The book held so many memories of them. This specific poem held so much meaning to the both of us.

However, there was something in me that wanted to try. I wanted to be able to read the poem again and remember the memories we shared fondly. I wanted to be able to enjoy my memories with them. I had come to realize over the past year that their memory deserved to be nurtured with fondness not overwhelmed with sadness.

So, I decided to try.

The memory’s attached to the excerpt immediately began flooding back even as soon as I read the beginning words. The bookmark had landed on the page that had been quoted to me by the grieving father, the words holding even more meaning in my life now than ever before.

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my-“

The tears in my eyes blurred my vision, so much so that I had to stop reading for a moment to wipe my eyes. I didn’t know if I wanted to continue, just those first few lines were already weighing heavily on my mind. I was already focusing on the radiance that had left my life forever. A radiance that was once so bright, but was now snuffed out, forever taken from my sight. My sorrow was creeping in with small little waves in my mind, I just had to hope that it wouldn't drown me. I didn’t want to get stuck on an endless loop of emotions again, I had just gotten fully clean a little while ago.

Even though I was feeling intensely emotional over just the first few words I wanted to keep trying. I wanted to read this poem and smile. I wanted to be able to look back at our memories with love, to take back what had been polluted by the acts of a heinous man. Once I had somewhat collected myself and my thoughts I began to read again from the beginning of the excerpt-

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower,”

My entire being could not help but ache as I read the words, still aching for the presence of the one who had been forever taken from my sight. When I reached that part that I remembered asking the grieving man about all those years ago, the words held an even deeper meaning to me now than I ever thought possible. There was nothing I could do to bring back the hour where I was still in my lover’s embrace. I wanted to be back in the moments of splendour in the grass and glory in the flower, I knew that soon I’d have to fully accept that it wasn’t possible.

Again I had to wipe tears from my eyes before continuing to read the stanza. This time a few tears dribbling down onto the pages, marking them with my sadness forever no matter if it dried into the parchment or not. I continued to read the page despite the saltwater that continued to drip down my face,

“We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind”

I felt a small watery smile creep onto my face, it had been so long since I had remembered to smile with sincerity. I was thinking about some of the times they had read this to me as I tried to drift off into a most likely restless sleep. Though I had always slept better when they read to me. At the time the words hadn’t meant as much to me as they did now, I now had a permanent connection to the feeling of grief that would never be erased. For the first time in a long time thinking about them didn’t hurt as much for a moment, I actually smiled, even though it was rather watery. No matter how small or sad the smile was, I was still smiling. And, I knew in that moment that Y/N would’ve been proud of me.

I pondered on the stanza’s meaning in a deeper way than I had done before. The things stated in the stanza about how I would gain strength from this situation made me contemplate what Y/N would’ve wanted me to do after their death. They wouldn’t want me to give up as I had done before, they had always wanted the best for me. They would want me to gain strength from the situation.

They would want me to grow from the pain that sat in my chest.

They would want me to move on, to accept.

I didn’t know if I’d ever find someone else that I’d ever love as much as I loved them. I didn’t really ever want to, I had found my true love already. Maybe one day I’d find someone to fall in love with again and if I did I knew they would be happy that I was able to move on with someone else. Even if I ever did move on with someone else there’d always be a part of my heart that belonged to Y/N. For now I was ready to move on in a different way. I was ready to live my life without them, by myself.

The trauma of losing them would always weigh heavily on my soul, I’d carry that with me until I rejoined them in the earth. But, I was now ready to keep living, if only for them. I felt less guilty now since I had grown to realize that they’d want me to try and live the rest of my life as fully as I could. They’d want me to try and find happiness. I didn’t know if I would ever truly find it again, whether it was on my own or with someone else.

They may have been forever taken from my sight, but I found comfort in the fact that the radiance they brought into my life would always reside in me. Instead of letting the deep hole in my chest gape until the hour of my death, I’d let it fill with the radiance of their memory.

I was ready to try.

I was ready to try even if I knew the water that felt like I could drown in, the fire that burned so hot that anyone near it would get burned, the earth that I had wished would bury me with the pebbles I had chosen to cope with, and even the polluted air of my sadness around with me everyday would sometimes take ahold of me again no matter how hard I tried.

I’d always carry those emotions with me, but I knew I was ready.

“Nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower.”

I knew I was ready because their memory would always be with me to give me strength and to guide me. They’d always be there to help me try to live the rest of my life peacefully.

When I slept that night I faced the boxes while clutching the book to my chest.

Even though it still would always hurt on some level, I was ready to live in a reality where I could accept.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

5 stages of grief:

@joonie-centric @tatesimper @half-blood-dork @mcntsee @illuxions-x @rainsong01 @nomajdetective @loveheathens @day-n-night-dreamer @reidbuck

[rightsockjin]

Timbs part 2

Hello beautiful people! Merry Christmas and Happy holidays! Since this blog has grown so much even during the time of our temporary hiatus, and this story (Timbs from the dynamite series) continues to get attention, I thought that I'd listen and write a part two! Happy Christmas Y'all! Also, I do want to address some stuff that is in this pic. First off, as a group, the writers at right sock decided to give each member of BTS a permanent girlfriend. So basically, nicknames which will make it easier to refer to other girls. This is the first real place you will see that. Y/N is nicknamed Bunny in this. But Y/N is used as well. Just incase it confused you.

Anyway! On to what we all came here for!

Summary: After your last encounter with your best friend and the words exchanged, you aren't sure where you stand... but maybe you should focus on where you lay...

Rating: M! Big M!

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff. All the good stories are hehe.

word count: Drum roll please....7,378!

Warnings: Stalking, being eaten out, mentions of blowjobs, kink talk. someone walks in during the deed....kinda. Jealousy. General meanness. Naked people y'all. nipple stuff. I think that’s all??

Part one

Master list

He closed the door behind him. It thudded thickly in the small apartment of his that you frequented. It was in the same state as you had seen it the last time you had been over. Boxes were still packed, dust covered the old furniture, save for the couch that had been a combined gift from all of his friends as he was the last to move out, that had come with the appartnemnt appartment, and heaps of bubble wrap and packing peanuts littered the floor. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

Your nose itched and you could feel a sneeze coming on. With a slight shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your best friend the look. Eyebrows slightly raised at the center, a light smile teased your nude, mint chapstick coated lips. A hint of incredulity mixed with “really?” and some other emotion that you tried to snuff out completely. Something akin to fondness perhaps?

Jungkook had his black shirt covered back to you. His hair was grazing his lower ears and lightly ruffled as he turned to look at you after checking that the door had indeed locked as he forgot to lock his door constantly which made no sense because it was an automatic lock, but somehow, he had already gotten people accidentally walking in on him in less than opportune moments. Namely, this girl who lived near by was always accidentally walking into his apartment thinking it was hers, but you surmised that she couldn’t possibly be that stupid and was coming in purly because she thought Jungkook was cute and single.

You knew this because one time, you had been over and she “accidentally” walked in while Jungkook was in the restroom with a cute little confused face on which fell as soon as she saw you lounging on the couch eating a particularly stringy mango. She stumbled through an awkward apology before quickly closing the door and going to her actual apartment.

But Jungkook was convinced that she was just very lost and very new to the building. You couldn’t bear to break it to him. Or maybe you didn’t want him to realize that she most likely had a crush on him. A creepy, stalkery crush… maybe you should tell him...

Jungkook’s mask sat slightly under his nose. His eyes widened when he noticed you staring, completely zoned out from your light flashback. He blinked in confusion, frozen for a second before he slowly crossed his arms and raised his own eyebrows at you.

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows at him then. Your hands held up in question. A stance that clearly said “what are you looking at me like that for? I’m the one judging you here.”

Again, with mirth in his eyes and his nose scrunched slightly, signaling that he was smiling under his face cover, he mimicked your stance. He leaned down slightly to get on your level. His mistake. You would think he’d learn by now.

You smacked the side of his head lightly enough that you were sure it didn’t hurt but also hard enough to get him out of this weird theater mirror exercise thing he was doing.

“Ow? What the fuck, Bunny,” he questioned, closing one eye tightly and rubbing the spot on his head you had tapped as if you had bruised him.

You rolled your eyes but reached up and patted his head lightly before giving his hair a small scratch that you knew he loved as an apology. Without fail, he smiled down at you with squinty eyes and a scrunched nose. The fondness in his eyes reached your own body. A sense of calmness. Your body relaxed.

You made to remove your hand from his hair, but he put his own hand over yours, begging you to keep it on his head for a second longer. You complied, only because you liked to mess with his hair almost as much as he liked for you to mess with it.

Jungkook ripped his mask off as you mused his hair gently. His breathing slowed and he let himself take yet another step closer to you. The scent of sweet pea flowers danced around him like a lullaby.

He was tired. He hadn’t realized he was tired until that very moment, since your outing hadn’t really been something to tire him out. He was usually fairly energetic around you and lunch was hardly an activity that would make him feel tired, but now, a nap was sounding really nice. He wondered if you would nap with him if he asked.

But then your hand was off his head and you were stepping away and the peace was lifted. He snapped his eyes open, a pretty pout decorated his pink lips which went ignored by you.

“You should really unpack all this stuff Kookie. The dust is really obnoxious.”

And then you rubbed the underside of your nose and sniffed aggressively. Jesus, how were you this...breathtaking? He felt the emotion building in his chest. It compressed into his ribs and pressed on all his organs. It grew bigger and bigger until it felt like he would explode. Almost like the weeks before when you had your head between his legs with your saliva dribbled down his cock and onto his-

AACHOOoo!

Jungkook was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of his sneeze. Instantly, the pressure in his chest loosened a bit but not entirely. Not enough. He blinked down at his body, feeling betrayed.

He could already feel his nice slacks starting to squeeze around his middle. He could only stand there in shock as he watched blood flow to his third leg. He had really thought that he had gotten past the phase of his crush on you where every little thing you did turned him on.

But then again, sucking him off while he fingered you in a barely lit room wasn’t exactly a little thing. It was huge. And he wasn’t just talking about his dick.

If he was a braver man, he would have made something of that first encounter. Maybe asked you where you stood. Maybe confessed that as much as he thought you were beautiful in every physical way, he was highly attracted to you. Just you. The you that barged into his room whenever she felt like it. The you that texted him every morning with a synopsis of your crazy dream and used the word dick as a verb, a noun and an adjective at any given point.  The you that liked to bitch at him for every little thing he did because it was out of affection.

But no. You had left that day and neither you nor him had mentioned it once while you hadn’t rejected any of his date invitations, he couldn’t muster the courage to actually ask what your relationship was. Not even in passing. He was starting to wonder if it had actually even happened or if he had imagined it, but every time he goes for his laptop and sees the dent on the edge where it hit the floor, he is forced to recall the sweet scent of flowers and your dripping center.

He had to stop that. If he kept letting his head wonder this way…

Well, he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, which is why he hadn’t brought it up. Or that’s what he told himself.

“Well bless you,” you said with a slight giggle, “That sounded like it hurt.”

Jungkook forced his awareness away from his crotch, realizing that if he wanted you to not see it, it would be best to not draw more awareness to it himself and the limb that was awkwardly sticking to his left leg.

“A-a little. Maybe you’re right. I really should sweep this place. I just haven’t had time since i’ve been spending so much time out with you.”

You scrunch your nose at him. His cheeks were a little red, though you assumed it was from the cold outside since the tip of his nose was also a bit red. Then, he pushed his hair out of his face, you noticed that so were his ears.

Weird. He only ever got rosy ears when he was embarrassed? Well he should be. His apartment was a mess. He probably shouldn’t have even moved out. You doubted that he knew how to clean his own ass let alone do his laundry. You were going to tell him exactly that, sass locked and loaded but something- maybe it was the way his pants fit or the way that his chest protruded through his shirt or the muscles in his arms- told you to look down.

His thighs were always your favorite part of him. So strong. Rideable. How could you not when he spent so much time making sure that they were solid as a rock. You could salivate, in fact you were salivating thinking of the last time you had your mouth anywhere near those legs and his dick deep in your throat.

If you really focused, you could fool yourself into thinking that he was hard in that instant. But no. Wait. Was it? Was he?

You snapped your eyes back to your friend. Your friend that you wanted to be more than that but you refused to say so, to see that he was looking around the apartment thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you go home for today, Y/N? I should get started on-,” he cleared his throat and visibly swallowed, hoping that if he got rid of you quickly enough, then you wouldn’t have a chance to notice the log that was in his pants.

You on the other hand weren’t sure what to do. His suggestion made you do a double take. Your boundary issues had not been resolved from last time. And this was evident in what you said next.

“Gonna beat it to the last time you got a real blow job instead of asking for one or what? Small dick energy.”

And who else could that have been than you? Your brain caught up to your mouth a second too late to take anything back. The words floated out in the open like an invitation. Well, wasn’t it? Isn’t that what you had meant? Probably. Your brain tended to go that direction when it came to Jeon Jungkook but had you really just offered him a blow job?

There was a second in which Jungkook’s face steadily turned the color of a cherry tomato and he began to sweat slightly. His eyes were wide and he was looking at you like he must have misunderstood. Were you speaking the same language?

His body tensed and blood pumped predominantly to his cheeks or his nether region. He felt a little faint even. Was the room spinning? It felt like it could be.

You watched him reel and try to compose himself. This was similar to the last time you guys had partaken in activities that weren’t usually shared by platonic friends. And like that instance, you felt the urge to run. To get out before he had a chance to don his other persona. The one that makes you weak in the knees and something of a brat.

“Is that like an offer or are you being an ass?” he asked, sass dripping from his tone. He pushed both hands into his pockets, the tips of his fingers grazed his hardened rod, already sensitive despite it not being entirely hard.

You crossed your arms, not sure if you wanted him to take you up on your invitation or if you wanted to retract it.

Jungkook took a step closer to you, waiting patiently for you to find your voice. He wasn’t going to pressure you. As much as he had enjoyed it last time, he couldn’t live with himself if you did something just for his sake.

You leaned against the back of his couch, the head rest was pushed slightly against your lower back, grounding you.

“No pressure, Y/N,” he assured, suddenly feeling like the playful tone that this activity had taken on the last time may seem a little pushy if you really didn’t want to partake once again.

But this solidified in your mind that as much as he seemed turned on, he clearly had enough respect for you to make sure you really were into the situation as much as he was. This was enough to push any feelings of unease aside and focus just on what was being given.

“I mean… honestly, don’t you kind of owe me for last time? I basically did all the work and you just sat there like a rock.”

Jungkook gaped at you, he put a hand over his heart and scooted slightly closer so that there was only a foot of distance between the both of you now.

“You were the one calling the shots babe. If you wanted me to do something more than just shake that,” Perfectly sculpted and hard work evident, “ass then you should have said something.”

His vibrato dropped for a second, his eyes met yours, “I’d do anything you ask of me, Bun.”

Your heart palpitated wildily in your chest. The words he had spoken to you that night came back to you then. You dreamed of those words. Hoped he would say them again in a different setting but never had even acknowledged that it had even happened, so you were left only with dreams and foggy memories of the way your name sounded on his sweet lips and the three words that you craved to hear.

He’d probably said it in the heat of the moment. The emotions were high and your climaxes had just...well climaxed so maybe it wasn’t that he L-worded you. It was that he L-worded what had just happened.

The issue then was that you did mean them. You meant when you said that you L-worded him so the blow of your relationship staying exactly the same as it had been before, nearly made you want to cut ties with him completely out of pure embarrassment. But you couldn’t. Because he didn’t let you. Any time you didn’t answer your phone, he was at your door. Any time you avoided set dates, he’d find you. The jerk wouldn’t let you leave, and you were too weak to let him go anyway.

But then there was that sparkle of...something, in his big eyes that made him seem so genuine and willing. Subconsciously, he licked his lips and you could only imagine those same lips on you. His head between your legs.

Could you take his offer? Did you have the courage to ask for what you wanted?

“A-anything?”

Junkook’s teeth made an appearance before he chuckled lowly, “Do I make you nervous? Is- is that’s what’s going on here?” He asked, gesturing between you two with one finger. Confidence poured out of every pore.

Instantly, you scoffed. Because no. Jungkook, baby boy, bunny teeth Jeon didn’t make you nervous in the slightest. But then why did your voice get stuck in your throat? Why did your mind go blank? Why were you fidgeting incessantly?

Jungkook hissed, a laugh chimed deep in his throat, “Who would have thought that the only thing I needed to do to get you to shut up was to offer to do you? Wish I would have known this years ago! I would have offered more often.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles flexed against his shirt. Your body thirsted at the sight. What would he look like on top of you? Pinning you down?

Your eyelid felt heavy. Lust coursed through your body. If you could just speak-

“So what will it be? Want me to eat you out? Fuck you? Spank you? Or are you more of an orgasm denial type of girl? You know, if this is going to work out, we should really talk about those kinks. Maybe think of a safe word? Or are you not that kinky? Cuz I’m pretty kinky so we should definitely talk hard limits as well-”

You watched him monologue in complete shock. Did he think that this was going to be a common occurrence? No. You didn’t usually sleep with guys just for the hell of it unless you were never going to see them again, and Jungkook clearly did not fit that criteria so no. You couldn’t just casually sleep with your best friend.

You opened your mouth to tell him this when you suddenly tuned back into the conversation.

“-and I mean… I know it might have been a bit fuzzy but I’ve had fun on our dates so far so I guess it’s natural that we take this to the next level? If- If that’s okay with you! Mama always told me that a gentleman never rushes his woman. Not that you’re mine! Or like that I own you or anything like that! No, no, I just mean that I like you and well you like me and like… the dates? So we’re like together? A couple? Should we have that conversation as well? I don’t know… what do you think, Y/N?”

You blinked at him in complete shock. Had you been dating Jungkook for the last couple of weeks and hadn’t noticed?

In hindsight, he had been paying for some of your meals and while he had done this on occasion, it had become more of a regular thing. He’d also been a lot more clingy than he had been. He’d even tried holding your hand  a couple of times only for you to panic and pull away.

All of this information seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. Oh my God… You had been dating Jungkook! How the hell did you miss that??

When you didn’t answer, combined with the horrified expression on your face that he had no way of knowing wasn’t complete disgust at the idea of him touching you, Jungkook feel like a total idiot.

To him, it seemed clear that the last thing you wanted was for his nasty hands anywhere near you. Couldn’t he take a hint? Clearly not, because you hadn’t so much as tried to kiss him on the cheek and now here he was offering to eat you. Talk about jumping some steps.

He took a step back, trying to give you some room so as not to force himself on you but he could feel his heart constrict. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna- oh…

Tears pooled in his pretty eyes. They burned with emotion and he really wanted nothing more than for you to leave and never speak to him again while at the same time wanting to jump into your arms and be comforted.

Regardless of his feelings, he stayed rooted to the spot he was standing in, his hands folded neatly before him as he bowed his head in a small apology.

“Oh...I uh… I overstepped. I’m so sorry, Y/N… I didn’t mean to- to make you uncomfortable.”

He balled his hands into fists trying to distract himself from the emotional pain of the blow you had dealt.

You on the other hand, were struggling to come to terms with what was happening. How did you stop this from spiraling further? And.. was he crying? No! He couldn’t be crying! You had to stop this. He may be obnoxious and a baby but he was apparently… your… obnoxious baby!

Without thinking much, you closed the distance with one big step and wormed your arms around his torso. You shimmied your head under his chin. Jungkook seized for a second. Unsure what he should do.

But as the shock wore down, he let his body relax and wrapped his strong arms around your body as he was shocked with emotion. At the end of the day, you were his best friend and if he was going to be consoled after a girl broke his heart, it would be you who would do it, even if that girl who broke his heart… was you.

But then, why were you kissing his neck softly? Was he imagining it? No. Because in the next second, you were grabbing his chin with your thumb and forefinger- they were ice cold- and you were pulling his face to look up at you.

When your eyes connected, your heart shattered. The pools of tears turned to streams in the mountains of his cheeks then conjelled at the valley between his collarbones.

Of course, on top of his good looks, he was a pretty crier. That was so unfair. Almost as unfair as the beautiful fan of eyelashes that caught his sparkling tears. And the voice that could only belong to an angel that he possessed.

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crossed your chapstick lips and the fond scrunch of your nose before you closed the three inches or so of air that divided you. When your lips settled onto his, you felt rather than saw him freeze for the third time that day.

His lips were a little salty and a little minty. Vaguely, you remember him applying and reapplying his chapstick all day. Now you wondered if he had been doing it out of nervousness.

Then his hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, balled at the nape pleasantly. He was breathing hard. Like he’d run a marathon or danced a full concert.

His lips were pressed so firmly onto yours that you were sure they would swell and bruise after this. You let all semblance of control be taken from you. One of his hands slid down to the arch of your back tentatively. Like he was scared to break you or that you would tell him to get off.

You arched your back with his hand, pressing your high necked cotton shirt into his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his own shirt and the muscles that covered it.

With a sigh, you opened your mouth as he opened his lips and sandwiched your top one within his own.

You could feel that he was still crying, but you weren’t exactly sure why. You could ask later. Right now, all you wanted, all you knew he needed, was for you to kiss him and make it all better. To fix whatever it is you had done. You could piece him back together if you tried hard enough.

So when he began walking you backwards towards the couch, you didn’t fight. The hand on your back moved over to your hip. His lips were connected to yours, open wide, his tongue explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Teeth clashed awkwardly, the kiss was out of sync. You let him maneuver your head whichever way he wanted with the hand that was still firmly in your hair. He leaned over you. His body seemed to completely incompace yours. Your back was arched almost forty five degrees. It wasn’t painful at all. Instead, it pushed your hips flush against his.

His member, which had shrunk significantly only seconds before, was now growing again, filling with the erotic arousal that pulsed in his veins. A hulk in disguise was being pulled from the Bruce Banner you were so used to. And you were all too eager to let him show you this side of him.

Like a man on the brink of drowning, he pulled his mouth from yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes. In a split second, he leaned down and picked you up from the knees. You wondered if he would carry you to his room or throw you over his shoulder, but he sat you down on the back of the couch before he placed a quick peck to your lips.

Then, like the sadist he was, he pulled away again, smiling up at you through red eyes. He wasn’t sure what this meant. If this was a sign that you too were too scared to bring up the relationship and the conversation that could change everything, but that could wait for another time. Right then, all he wanted was to show you, with his tongue, with his mouth, with whatever limb you let him, that he was falling for you. Hard.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. A sigh escaped your lips. If you opened your eyes, would it be over? Would he ask you to leave? Would it once again go back to how it was for the last couple of weeks?

Eventually, you did open your eyes. Jungkook could see the fear and unsteadiness in them. The red around the brown made you hurt deeply in your soul. A tender hand reached out to cup his cheek. The light scratch of your freshly done nails was pleasurable to his senses. Goosebumps. Then a strong shiver. And he felt himself melt for the girl he had known for so long. And you for the man whom you had watched grow from a frightened boy.

“Are you going to touch me or are you going to punish me for all the times I left you high and dry,” you laughed. Even in this tender moment, you couldn’t hold your tongue, but Jungkook didn’t mind. The engine of his brain was whirring and he could hear, all he could see and feel, was you...you...you. Nothing but you and the way your hair hung under your chest and covered your left eye. Nothing but your chest rising and falling and the smile on your kissible, bruised lips.

How could he help himself? The answer? Would always be you.

He kissed your nose, then your cheek. An eskimo kiss. You giggled. It was the most beautiful music to his ears.

“You want me to Bunbun?” Internally, he cringed at his overly affectionate name but you smiled brighter and the insecurity left as soon as it came.

“Is that my name now?”

“If you want it to be, or you could choose another one?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, now that you were almost level with his eyes- though now you were a bit taller than him. You shrugged.

“I like it. Bunny, Bun, BunBun, any variation.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Who knew you were this cheesy, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you opened your legs so he could slot himself between them. You pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. A mischievous smirk crossed your lips.

“What’s with the face,” he asked, sniffling a little.

“What face,” you asked, feigning innocence.

“This face,” he countered, gesturing vaguely at your eyes.

“Oh this? Ah well you see,” and then without ending your thought, you let yourself fall backwards with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around his frame. He was much heavier than you and clearly more muscular but with the weight distribution you were able to pull him over the back of the couch and twist both yourself and him so you landed on the cushions. His body atop yours.

By the look on his face, he clearly had not expected you to pull him, nor did he expect for his center to land directly on yours, but the shock gave way to the joy and fun that tended to encompass your everyday encounters.

His high pitched giggle of a laugh made an appearance which caused a multitude of butterflies to flutter through your intestines and chest. He relaxed into you, laying his head cautiously onto your breasts, pushing his middle away from your heated core. (yes, he noticed)

He could hear your heart beating against the- hehe squishy- lump of fat on your chest. Instantly, he knew that he could spend eons on your bosom uninhibited and satisfied.

But the pulse of his confined member made his head swirl with thoughts less than innocent.

When your nails lightly scratched at his back and the smallest, lightest moan left your lips, he knew you must be on the same page. Or at least, he hoped. Spurred on by the heavenly shapes and your inquiry from a couple seconds before, Jungkook picked his head off your chest and hovered over your left breast.

There was a question in his eyes as he looked between your boob and your face. One which you couldn’t answer verbally as your heart rate picked up and the lust poisoned your veins.

With the slightest nod, he had everything he needed to lean down and lightly nip at the mound through the thin material of your beige shirt. The warmth of his breath traversed the stitches easily. It sent pleasant shivers through your body, settling in your core.

He nibbled softly around what he hoped was your nipple, before he kissed the center of the mound with tender lips. His eyes stayed looking up at yours, searching for any signs that he should stop. You bit your lips and took a deep breath, dropping his questioning gaze and letting him take the reigns once again.

Jungkook felt you relax into him. Relief flooded his chest. With a little more confidence, Jungkook looked with his mouth for the hardened bud of your breast and pulled it softly between his teeth. He was rewarded with a moan, only slightly louder than the one before and he realized, he wanted you screaming. He wanted you to moan his name. Hear your voice penetrate through the walls of his apartment and disturb the neighbors. This was his new goal.

“Y/N,” he said softly trying to get your attention. Instantly, you looked down from your position, your pupils were blown wide. A beautiful sight.

“Is it okay if I-” and then his confidence waned and so he gestured to your shirt with his eyes a couple of times. You smiled at him.

“Mhm, go for it Kookie.”

Was this what it felt like to be called a good boy? Because Jungkook loved it. He needed more. More. More.

Eagerly, Jungkook untucked your shirt from your pants and bunched  it up right under your boobs. The expanse of skin that he had exposed seemed like an oasis in a desert. He couldn’t help the pull of gravity that connected his lips to your stomach. They were not soft, nor gentle. They were fast and more pecks than anything. They tickled your skin as he tried to cover every single open spot with his love.

He worked his way up and nudged your shirt higher with his nose.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jungkook?” You asked exasperated.

“Can I take this off?”

You groaned, “Yes. Take it off. All of it, my shirt, my pants, my underwear. Whatever you want. You have my permission.”

Sheepishly, Jungkook obeyed. You raised your arms over your head and arched your back to make it easier for him to undress you.

He pulled it off swiftly, ruffling your hair in the process. He tossed the shirt aside, excited to see what he was unwrapping. He wasn’t disappointed. Had you known you would be undressing for someone today? Or did your undergarments always consist of lavish fabrics and sexy shapes?

Jungkook didn’t care. He just felt honored to be able to see it. The see through fabric held together by underwire did little to hide the prize behind the clothing. Your nipples stood pert and puckered under it all. Begging to be released. He wondered if your underwear matched.

It was weird. The things one noticed when something monumental was happening. Like the golden stiching that held the bra together, or the way that the underwire dug into your skin to hold your perfect breasts in place.

Then in a second, he was moving again, frantically unbuttoning your pants and ripping them off your body without hesitation. He must know. It was life or death for him   to know if your underwear matched.

He tossed the pants in the opposite direction of the discarded shirt. He watched it fly over a lamp and land on a box that he thought had his art supplies. With bated breath, he turned to look at you. It felt as if his whole life had been leading to this moment.

And yes. The answer was that you were wearing a set. His mouth salivated as the scent of your arousal hit his nose. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your folds and die.

But he slowed down and took in every inch of your body. He wanted to remember it. Every freckle, every curve. He wanted a picture to hang in his bathroom or to draw you on his ipad so he could use it to jerk off when you weren’t around because after this, he knew that no other image would do it for him. Not anymore

He watched your chest heave. He looked up at your face again, asking for permission even though you had already given it to him.

“Jungkook, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds I’m gonna bite your dick off,” you growled.

Oof… that was not one of his kinks, thank you very much, but it was the last push he needed, because he slithered down your body and pulled your legs around his shoulders staring at the promise land between your legs.

He could already see a bit of your natural lubricant running down your lightly covered slits.

You watched him, entranced by how hypnotized he seemed by your entrance. A laugh gurgled at your throat.

“Wow, if I knew that all it would take to shut you up was for me to wrap my legs around your head, I would have done it sooner,” you teased.

But the laughter died on your lips as jungkook opened his mouth wide and licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. Even with the fabric in between his tongue and your skin, it felt like heaven.

“Fuck, Jungkook…” your hand flew to his hair, tangling in the locks of deep noir that you loved to braid when you two sat together watching a movie.

He kissed up and down your lower lips lovingly, lickig his lips as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life.

He hummed, sending a long vibration to your core which clamped around thin air as if trying to stop it from leaving.

“I can’t wait to really taste you, Bunny… fuck you’re delicious…” Every word was like a strike to your center. Arousal gushed from your entrance that made jungkook’s eyes sparkle in earnest enthusiasm.

Without asking, he pulled your underwear to the side, and buried his face in your juices. A bit of self consciousness wormed its way into your brain. He could be lying about how it tastes. Did it smell okay?

But the devilish sounds of him slurping and sucking at your folds pushed the thoughts away. He held your ass up, pulling you closer and closer to his face. He never felt like he was quite close enough. His nose brushed continuously against your clit and when he noticed the way you screamed under your breath every time it happened, he made it his mission to continue to do just that as he laved at your pulsing hole.

You had been hiding all of this from him. The paradise between your legs. The treat at your center. He wouldn’t let you hide from him any longer. He’d rather perish than to go one more day without your center at his lips.

Short, consecutive moans fell from the petals of your lips. Your orgasm built slowly at first, not coming to a head- both literally and figuratively and he could tell. He pushed his tongue into your entrance. Your walls closed on it, trying to keep it inside. His name came from your lips like a prayer. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted you to scream his name. To never be able to think of another doing what he was doing to you in that moment, so when your eventual crash came, he was less than satisfied.

You were breathing heavily. Your legs twitched. Jungkook ripped his face from your core only because you pulled harshly at his hair. From his nose to his chin, he shone with your cum. If there was anything hotter than that you couldn't picture it.

But then he was standing, and he ripped his belt from the loops and began to undress.

Looking over his shoulder as he pulled his pants down he said, “Take off your bra and underwear. Are you on the pill?”

Shocked, you followed his demands, though they were given loosely. You shook your head no and he gave you one nod of confirmation.

“I have condoms. You’re not allergic or anything right?”

Again you negated his question with a shake of your head and he half smiled.

“We could stop if you want-”

“Don’t be a fucking tease, JK,” you rolled your eyes and spead your legs, hooking one on the head rest of the couch so he could see your abused lips which were dripping for him.

His eyes widened only for a second, but then he tore his shirt off and scrounged for his wallet where he kept a condom. He ripped it open with his bunny teeth and pulled his underwear off unceremoniously.

You watched in fixed fascination as his cock sprang free of its confines, so hard that it looked painful. It was bound to feel good.

He rolled the condom on carefully before he situated himself between your legs and wiped your juices from his face. He was partially on his knees and partially standing. It was easy to find your entrance with your legs spread so wide.

When his head pushed in, you let your head fall back. Maybe it was because you already had one orgasm under your belt or maybe Jungkook’s dick was just a good fit but pure pleasure filled your body. He watched your reaction, gritting his teeth as your walls clamped down  around him, resisting his entrance.

“Does it hurt?”

You gurgled something that you couldn’t make out but Jungkook seemed to understand because he nodded and pushed in farther, slowly. He bottomed out, his balls gently hit your ass and your vagina clenched, feeling every ridge of his member within you.

“Fuck… Y/N… I… I don’t know how long I can last…”

It was so sensitive. Every little twitch of his dick felt monumental. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could last either.

“Move,” you managed.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled out slowly then slammed back into you. Your skin clapped loudly in the mostly empty apartment. You whimpered. Your back arched. He pulled out again, then slammed back in. His pace was marked. Timed. It made your boobs jiggle as he grabbed your hips to help you meet his movements.

Cute little ‘ah’s filled his ears. They got higher pitched as you neared your end. Jungkook couldn’t believe his luck. You were so tight. So wet and the way your walls closed around him made him grow close to his end much quicker than he ever had by hand.

“Y/N… I’m gonna… I’mma…”

But you beat him to it. Your pussy clamped down and fluttered around him as your second orgasm crashed upon you.

You moaned his name as he continued to pound into you. Whines and pleas went unheard as he sped up. He needed you to know who you belonged to… in like a totally consensual way.

You were so sensitive, but the pain of over stimulation gave way to pleasure far too soon and a third orgasm consumed you.

In pure shock, Jungkook grunted and moaned, your vagina got even tighter around him. And he came violently, with his dick mid thrust and his name bouncing off the walls in the tone of your exhausted voice.

Spurt after spurt of white, hot cum spilled from his member and into the condom. He was so caught up in his pleasure that he didn’t notice nor hear the front door open.

Both of you heard a gasp and footsteps. Jungkook, mid orgasm, snapped his heavy head to the sound. To his complete surprise and embarrassment, there stood the aloof neighbor that was always walking into the wrong apartment.

At first, you were embarrassed, being naked was not something you did frequently in the presence of others, but then you were upset. Angry. How stupid could one girl be? Shouldn’t she learn that this was not her place after a billion and one mistakes?

For a second, all three of you were frozen. Jungkook’s orgasm finished and his cock quickly deflated. He jumped to action quickly, throwing his body over yours to cover you before he looked back at the neighbor and said, “this isn’t your apartment!”

Over Jungkook’s toned shoulder, you watched her eyes dart to his exposed ass before they filled with tears.

“Oppa…” she said under her breath, before the tears streamed and she turned on her heels and hurried out.

Your blood boiled. It seemed you were right. She wasn’t stupid at all. She had a crush on your… person? Whatever he was. He was yours- in a ‘I want to be yours and like it’s totally okay for you to say that’ kind of way, and you were not going to put up with some random girl who clearly didn’t have boundaries.

Jungkook looked down at you, his cheeks were red and you could tell he was extremely uncomfortable.

Carefully, he pulled his softened member from your core and made a show of removing the condom then disposing of it. You began to put your underwear and bra back on, watching him walk around his apartment butt naked. Would he say something? Or would you have to bring it up?

After minutes of silence, you decided you would have to be the one to break the awkwardness.

“So uh… do you know what her actual apartment is? Maybe we can put a note on your front door for her to remind her,” you half joked, standing to find your shirt and pants, but settling instead for the button up he was wearing before.

Jungkook pulled his shorts on, his back was to you. There was a tenseness in his muscles that wasn’t going away and something in the air struck fear in the pit of your stomach.

“She lives next door.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel like it was a confession of sorts. It made you want to run.  But instead, you sat in his shirt as he rifled in his boxes for a pair of more comfortable pants before you decided to drop it for now, knowing that whatever it was that was hanging in the air around you wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Jungkook, where's your broom?”

“Uh…,” there was a hint of a laugh in his voice and some of the pressure lifted from the atmosphere, “was I supposed to buy one?”

You rolled your eyes for the millionth time that day and berated him for not having bought the basic necessities for his home. Everything felt lighter, but still like you were trending on eggshells. It felt like instead of taking a step forward, you had taken six steps back. You were no more clear on what you were or what to do than you had been the last couple of weeks.

You helped him unpack that day, because you knew he wouldn’t do it on his own. He joked with you as if nothing had happened, and you sassed him all the same but something was off… and you didn’t know if it could be fixed without it first breaking you both.

[ageoldamateur]

Introduction to my OC (Full story release!)

I think I should at least try to post the entire story now that I finished writing it.

While this is my first story posted here and my very first G/T story I have ever written, I have to apologize anyway for the way this story is set out as I do not know enough about Tumblr to formulate them into the same style as other writers here (Canadian policy, I must apologize to keep my citizenship). I don’t know how to bold letters or put symbols up, so I will just write as I would normally.

Also, while this is the first introduction of my Tinysona until Pixie draws me, this does not mean that I will not change anything later when I grow more comfortable with my Tinysona.

TW: Pre-vore, Safe/Soft Vore

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

I guess I need to introduce myself, should I?

You can call me Spartan and 2 months ago, I was a normal person. Just about to turn 22, I was thin and healthy and should have been happy with my life.Then I meddled with magic and ended up as small as the average finger. However, that spell also granted me strength, agility, and endurance many times that of my previous self, which I believe is a good enough trade off. Still, I needed food and safety, so I went looking for a place before getting taken in by Rose, another human who seemed to be completely fine with having a tiny living with her. I will later find out why later...

Rose sat at the table, a large hardcover book sitting in front of her. One hand held her chin while the other lightly wrapped around Spartan, who was using her fingers as hand holds so that he could see the pages. This was the third book of the series and both of them were concentrating, leaving the air still in the morning rays.

Standing on Rose’s shoulder with one of her fingers pressing against his collarbone, Spartan finished the page and set his head down on the finger. He had only known Rose for 2 months now, but it felt like a lifetime. He only had to live a life alone and shrunken for a few days before he found comfort in Rose. Of course, he had scared the daylights out of her when he first got her attention, but the bruise faded the next day and he was able to talk to her as an equal after that.

Now, they lived as a couple, or as much as you can when one of the people was the size of a finger and thus couldn’t work a job or around the house. It infuriated him, but Spartan tried to make it up by working on her computer and organizing everything there while Rose did her job. There were only sparse moments where she would read with him, so he treasured them and hoped that she didn’t mind that he couldn’t handle the books she owned.

Spartan spared a glance towards Rose, her green eyes steadily following each line on the page. If he was regular size, he highly doubted he would have landed anyone like her and even now still wondered why she let him stay. Sure, he did some tasks around the house, but nothing she couldn’t do faster and more effectively than him. Maybe there was something he wasn’t seeing.

Looking back down, his eyes focused on the finger that was closest to his head. Spartan was no stranger to the weird impulses that he got (autism never made anyone normal), but he took some time to ponder what the impulse was before acting on it.

Rose just finished the last paragraph of the page when she felt a soft pressure on her finger that held Spartan. Confused, she glanced down, using her freed hand (the one not holding Spartan) to brush aside her hair. Sure enough, Spartan was gently biting the side of her finger; in no way close to hurt, but much life how a dog holds something in his mouth. Rose was close enough to notice how Spartan’s eyes were unfocused, a sign that he was dissociated from the world around him.

“Are you biting me?” Rose asked skeptically. Snapping back into the real world, Spartan quickly let go.

“No! No, I wasn't biting you. I was just resting my mouth on …” His excuse died on his lips as he realized that he really did not have one other than an impulse, which sounded as hollow as the one he just said. Rose just stared at him for a moment longer, Spartan blushing and looking away, then slightly shrugged and turned the page.

***later that same day***

Spartan woke up the phone and checked the time.

7:37. He still has over half an hour until he expects Rose to leave work. Perfect.

Spartan quickly unlocked it and picked his playlist: a collection of sea shanties and folk songs. While Rose knew about the playlist, he never played it for her; different music tastes were perfectly fine in a relationship as long as they understood what the other wanted to listen to. Spartan usually listened to the playlist while working or in this case when he was finished and wanted to belt out songs.

As he picked out a song to start the playlist on, he mentally checked the list again, even though the physical copy was lying on the table in the kitchen, marked by himself. He did all the preparations for Rose’s taxes, organized the cabinet and the food within, and made sure Rose’s makeup was up to date. He had also given Chilly some exercise even though that wasn’t part of his list; though the cat understood Spartan’s place in the household, it still didn’t stop the kitten from chasing him around the house whenever she got the zoomies.

Spartan finally settled on a classic; “Home Boys Home,” by the Skullduggers. Pressing play, the music blared out of the bluetooth speakers; not loud enough to cause a noise complaint, but probably too loud for his ears health. Spartan sprang onto the coffee table and began to sing at the same level of the music, arms singing by his side as he paced around and followed the music.

As the song changed, Spartan would take a moment to recall the lyrics, then bounced to the beat. He didn’t know how long he sang for (he knew almost all of them by heart), but he had eventually grown tired enough to sit on the table, hands behind him and legs outstretched. He couldn’t see the clock, but suspected Rose to arrive home at any moment. When he heard the door open, he would turn off his music.

Spartan felt the warmth before the teeth met his chest. He flinched out of fear, letting out a manly squeak as they gripped his torso and lifted him off the table. Rose held Spartan sideways in her mouth much like a cat would a fish she caught and flopped down on the couch, turning off the music with a tap on the phone.

“Jeepers, Rose! I didn’t hear you come home!” Spartan said, his free left arm keeping Rose’s lips from suffocating him. He wasn’t necessarily stuck, he was much stronger than he appeared to be, but he still didn’t know how much his augmented endurance could endure should Rose bite down. “When did you arrive?”

Rose loosened her mouth, letting go of Spartan so that he tumbled off her chin and landed on her chest. “About an hour ago, before you began to sing your songs. I had a short day today, but decided to climb in through the window cause I didn’t want to deal with Gabe’s smoking in the hallway again.

“You really didn’t notice me gathering snacks and getting ready for movie night?” She asked. Spartan blushed, noticing now that Rose’s arms and hands were full of treats. That would explain why he ended up in her mouth, though the way she did grab him (sideways so that his head wasn’t in her mouth) meant she would have had to have craned her neck at an awkward angle in order to grab him.

“Sorry Rose, I guess I was quite invested in my music.” Spartan said, stepping a little closer to her collarbone, if only to get away from the potential awkwardness of being sandwiched in her breasts. “What movie did you pick?”

Rose grinned and pointed towards the TV where the DVD was sitting. Spartan bounded over and took a glance. “A Sizable Matter”, directed by Rogers Phill <fictional, don’t need to look it up>. It was advertised as ‘safe and fun for the whole family with stunning action and a romance of unusual proportions’. Ratings appeared good, but Spartan knew not to trust those. Before he shrunk, he had seen the critically acclaimed “5th Element” and thought it was terrible and sexist in a modern standard.

But, this was another one of those times where he could hang out with Rose, so he popped it out and slid it into the player. He hopped back as Rose began working on some gummies. Spartan chose one for himself and began munching; he wasn’t much into sweets on the regular but hey, he could treat himself if he wanted to.

The movie was actually really good, alternating perspectives between the race of Giants and humans. The main character was known as a Shifter, which meant they could alternate between the size of a giant or a human. It was their duty to solve the conflict between the two races with the help of several side characters.

Both Spartan and Rose were invested, Spartan resting on Rose’s throat, only slightly distracted by her swallowing. Eventually, the movie reached a close, the Shifter and their friends having almost finalized a treaty before a full fledged war happened. However, the main villain triggered a trap that sparked the war to happen in earnest. Just as the Shifter and their allies were about to head off again, the movie ended.

“Oh, are you kidding me?!” Spartan shouted, falling off of Rose in the process of reacting to the abrupt ending of the movie. Rose didn’t react to the same effect, she wasn't as invested in films like Spartan; yet she did utter a grunt of annoyance.

Rose watched as Spartan fell off the couch, thudding onto the ground and lying there splayed right beside some fallen Gummy bears. “I don’t know about you, I really enjoyed the movie.”

“Same here, but my goodness, there needs to be a sequel made immediately!” Spartan said, grabbing one of the gummies and hugging it to his chest. “The Shifter was the best character! They were so wholesome and adorable; the moments where the movie decides to slow down and let us watch them just cuddle their friends were perfect breaks in between all of the combat scenes!”

“I agree,” Rose said, reaching down to grab the gummies around Spartan, “they were the ideal hero. Though if I am to be honest, I grabbed the movie because of one scene shown in the trailer.”

“What scene was that?” Spartan extended his arms towards Rose with the Gummy in hand.

Rose smiled. From the floor, Spartan suddenly got worried as he saw his friend from a very different perspective. “This one.” She said.

Her fingers reached past the extended Gummy and grabbed Spartan’s chest, wrapping gently around him. Popping the other Gummy bears into her mouth, she raised Spartan over her head and gave him a good view of the inside of throat. She swallows, Spartan watching as they disappear down her gullet. He dropped the one he was holding, it landing on her tongue and then joining the others in her stomach.

Spartan knew the scene of which she was referring to. A giant monster had nearly eaten one of the Shifters' friends much like the predicament he was in currently. However, Spartan assumed that no hero was going to be saving him from this maw.

With no more gummies to eat in her mouth, Rose closed her mouth and locked eyes with Spartan. She smiled at him and Spartan returned it, though a bit confused as to what was happening. She lowered him down towards her mouth, still smiling. Spartan closed his eyes.

And Rose gave him a kiss, her lips almost sucking his face off before she pulled him back. “Oh, don’t worry yourself, I won’t be doing anything to you. After all, you are the only man who has ever cared about me.” She set him down on the coffee table and let her arm hang off the couch.

Spartan, still a little confused at the sequence of events that had just happened, sat up and watched Rose settle down and cover her eyes with her right hand. He crossed his legs and listened as Rose spoke.

“Before you scared the living daylights out of me, I hated my life. My job felt like it was draining me of energy and there was only Chilly at my home which felt more like a burden than a blessing. I had no one who I felt like cared about my interests, checked to make sure I ate, and accompanied me when I went out. I honestly felt like there was no reason for my life.

“Then you appeared, asking for my help. And once I got over my shock of your appearance, I realized that I could help you, I had a purpose again. Now whenever I get home, I can look forward to hanging out with you to read my favourite book or play chess or just talk and chill. It was like having a boyfriend that never demanded sex or asked for favors. It was like a dream come true.

“In more ways than one…” Rose mumbled.

“You are into vore?”

Judging by the silence of Rose, Spartan thought right, though her example kind of gave it away as well. Spartan stood up and hopped back onto the couch, crawling onto Rose’s stomach. Rose raised her arm to look at him.

“Rose, I have been so blessed to have been able to meet you. It boggles me to think that if I didn’t cast this spell I would not have met you or even be able to get to know you. I wouldn’t have been able to know that you enjoy mystery and steampunk stories, or that your favourite colour to wear is red because it reminds you of Autumn. I wouldn’t know that you were mistaken for a boy all the way up till grade 11 and you learned how to cook from your older brother.” Spartan said, walking up towards her head.

“You said your life got a purpose once I entered it. Well, I didn’t know what I was missing until I began to live with you. I found that I was capable of love and was worthy of affection. I was allowed to be weird and helpful and now that I have learned that I have helped you? I feel like I have actually done something for you now.” Spartan allowed himself to fall forward onto Rose’s cheek, giving his giant friend a hug to the best of his abilities.

Rose closed her eyes, feeling the closure of her tiny friend. She allowed her mind to wander and thought about a scenario where she could have met Spartan when he was the same size as her. Rose probably would not have spared him a second glance at a man just going through the motions. But because of a happy little accident, she had a person who shared feelings with her sitting on her face.

“Soooo… this vore thing.”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing! Forget about it!” Rose said quickly, picking up Spartan and setting him down on the couch, sitting up as well.

“No, no, I am sorry if it is too awkward to talk about it!” Spartan said as he was set down. ‘It’s just… I also might be into it.”

Rose froze, mouth slightly opened. Spartan continued, “Of course, I have only used my imagination, so I have no clue if I would actually enjoy being swallowed, feeling the warmth of someone I love surrounding me.”

Spartan looked up at Rose, a flush creeping across his cheeks. “I never thought there would be a chance for me to make it a reality. Actually, that sounds quite selfish. I never thought I would be given the opportunity to experience it. Er, or that you would offer. Wait, you didn’t offer, I was just rambling, or am rambling, or just talking to myself-”

Rose poked him in the chest, pinning him down with her hand and her finger covering his mouth. It covered most of his face, leaving just one eye to lock in on hers as she leaned down towards him.

“You’re so lucky you are cute,” Rose said softly, “or else I would never be able to stand you.” Rose smiled and Spartan could see the warmth in it; despite the teasing, she really did care for him. Adjusting her grip, she picked up Spartan, holding him up towards her face.

She sighed, “I am actually going to do this, aren’t I?” she said more to herself, looking Spartan up and down. “Do you consent to being swallowed up by a hot and beautiful girl?”

Spartan looked around. “I don’t see one around, is she hiding?” He smiled at his joke as Rose scoffed. “I consent to be swallowed up by a hot, beautiful, intelligent, and amazing girl.” Spartan said slowly and clearly, locking eyes with Rose.

“Well, since I’m the only girl in the room, I hope that means me.” Rose said nonchalantly. Taking a steadying breath, she put Spartan into her mouth feet first. He fit without too much difficulty, squishing comfortably past her teeth as he was pushed all the way in.

Rose didn’t know what she expected to taste, but it certainly didn’t taste as exhilarating as the fics she had read led her to believe. Also, he was quite large now that he was in her mouth; normally she wouldn’t notice but because she didn’t dare chew, all she really did was move Spartan back and forth in her mouth.

Spartan was holding his breath just in case he realized that he couldn’t breath in there. Other than that, he absolutely enjoyed his time, rolling over and over again across the sticky surface, occasionally bumping into the teeth. He could feel that Rose was trying her best to get comfortable with him, but was struggling.

“Ugh, ‘ow ‘o ‘hey ‘ake it ‘ook so easy?” Rose said, opening her mouth to speak and give Spartan some fresh air. She let her tongue rest and felt her throat relax as well. Getting a spike of courage, she started to tilt her head back.

“That’s the same question I would expect some newly weds would ask.” Spartan said, his voice barely making it out of her mouth.

Rose snorted, then gagged as Spartan’s bare feet hit her tonsils. Still chuckling and coughing, Rose spat out Spartan into her hand and turned away to cough into her elbow. Spartan sat on Rose’s hand, curled up with his knees to his chest now that he was out of the warm environment.

“*cough* You really said that at the *cough* worst time, Spartan.” Rose said, starting to recover. She looked back at Spartan sitting in her hand, worrying that she had hurt him when she convulsed. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, though I feel like I just got out of a nice warm hot tub.” Spartan said honestly. “I don’t know if you are comfortable with this yet, though. I might be too big for you to go all the way with, no offence.”

Spartan stood up on Rose’s hand, eyes towards the ground to hide his disappointment. “I did enjoy being in your mouth, though. It was exactly as I imagined it to be; warm, comfortable, and the closest I’ve been to you bef-”

Rose, in a surge of frustration, shoved Spartan not too gently up and then down, effectively overriding her natural gag reflex through sheer speed. She swallowed hard, feeling Spartan slide down with ease before catching her breath. Then she realized what she had just done.

“Oh heck… I really did just eat him,” Rose said softly, looking down at her stomach. She jumped up, rushing over towards the bathroom. Just as she opened the door, she heard Spartan.

“Rose? You sound panicked, is everything okay?” His voice was muffled, but clear enough to understand. The voice was definitely coming from her stomach and Rose could feel Spartan shifting around to get comfortable. Rose sighed, leaning up against the sink and looking at herself in the mirror.

“Yeah, I am feeling better now that I can hear you.” Rose paused. “How do you feel?”

Silence. “Like I am safe and secure. I feel like I am getting a full body hug. Though, the Gummy bears in here kind of ruin the moment…” Spartan said.

Rose laughed. “Sorry about that. Next time, I will make sure your cuddle buddies aren’t as sticky and sweet. I wasn’t exactly planning for this when I got home from work today.”

Rose closed her eyes, feeling Spartan’s movements and a surge of parental protection. She could feel his limbs against her abs and could picture him in her stomach. She had been looking at the entire idea of vore the wrong way; She felt more protector than predator and it was amazing.

“As much as I would love to stay like this forever, I feel like we should think about how I will be getting out; I don’t know how safe this is. I think it’s because of my heightened endurance from the spell that has allowed me to breath so far, but I don’t want to press it.”

“Well, I think there is only one way for you to exit,” Rose stated, leaning back over the sink.

“Technically, there are two…”

“Shut up.” Rose said, then tried to trigger her gag reflex. After a while of trying, Rose felt Spartan shift around and reach up and suddenly it became a lot easier. She deposited Spartan into the sink and turned on the faucet for him.

“That was an amazing experience, Rose,” Spartan said, sticking his head in the water. “I just hope that you enjoyed it as well.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Just got out of me and already jumped to the initiative in taking care of me.” She reached into the drawer beside the sink and pulled out a washcloth. She set it down next to Spartan, then stepped out of the room to give him some privacy.

“Well, did you? You asked me how I felt when I was in you.” Spartan said. There was a moment of silence as Rose thought about her answer. “I just realized how much of an innuendo this can be seen as. Should we pick a name for this experience? Something tamer?” Spartan added.

“Maybe later,” Rose sighed, putting her back on the wall and letting herself slide down until she was sitting on the floor. She rubbed her eyes, the memory of the experience still quite vivid in her mind. “To answer your question, I don’t really know yet.

“I went into it with an expectation, as most people do, and had those expectations quite subverted by reality. It was scary and surprising, but after I committed to it, it felt… comforting. I liked the feeling you gave me; it was as if I had hidden you away from the entirety of the world, all of the harm and hardships couldn’t reach you anymore.”

Rose rested her hands on her stomach, remembering Spartan cradled within her. “I already miss it, even though it hasn’t even been 2 minutes since you were there.”

“Well, you can always look forward to the next time those cravings hit.” Spartan said, strolling past the door wrapped up in the washcloth and viciously rubbing his hair. “Though, maybe without having eaten a ton of gummies beforehand. I think I have turned permanently sticky!”

Rose laughed, then scooped him up. “Come on, sticky boy, it’s almost 12. I need to get to sleep so that I can make it to work tomorrow.” She put him in his alcove, then disappeared into her room with Chilly.

Spartan got settled down and thought back on his day. He smiled. It was a pretty good day.

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

I think I need a break from vore, I don't know how I will top this for a while. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my… interesting writing style compared to the other writers on this website.

[the-writers-bookshelf]

What is a good writing exercise for someone writing fiction for the first time? I went to college so I have a lot of practice writing essays, but when it comes to fiction, I don’t know where to start. I have a really hard time with dialogue but also in general. I feel like I have the skills I just don’t know how to use them, if that makes sense.

Great question, anon!

My three recommendations would be:

1. Write some fanfiction!

This way, you can experiment with fiction but you don't have to come up with everything on your own. You have some guidelines! Fanfiction can be as short or as long as you want it to be too, so it's low commitment, low pressure, and high on enjoyment!

2. Just start writing whatever comes to mind!

You might be experiencing a slight block when it comes to writing. You're comfortable with the essay format, with it's nice, neat rules. But when you hit fiction, maybe you panic because omg what dO YOU DO???

Relax! :)

Writing fiction is VERY different from an essay. You get to make up details instead of citing facts! (most of the time, except maybe historical fiction) Try not to overthink it and just write whatever random scenes, characters, settings, etc. that you have in your head! Freewriting like this is a GREAT exercise to loosen you up and get the words flowing! (And many authors use freewriting, so you're already practicing good writing habits :)

3. Try writing short stories!

I would definitely recommend writing short stories! They're less intimidating than a full novel because you don't have to deal with so much plot. Depending on the length of the short story and how much you can write, you can finish a story in one sitting! It's also perfect for experimenting and discovering your personal style!

Ray Bradbury founded his writing career on short stories, which later morphed into full length novels. If you want to read more about his process, check out Zen and the Art of Writing. It's a little dated (I can say that because the book was published the same year I was born :P ), but it's a short read!

On a more personal note, short stories helped me get comfortable with writing fiction. I did NOT know how to write when I started. I checked out a thousand books on how to write, but the ONLY thing that helped me was writing one short story after another.

There is no writer training better than putting your words on the page! :)

[twoidiotwriters1]

Post-credits scene II (Iron)

Words: 1,931

Chapter 11  Chapter 12

Masterlist

2011

Part of the deal to train Lily is for an agent to be aware that each aspect is carried out according to the directions of S.H.I.E.L.D. The little girl, hearing this, did her best to make that agent just be Natasha. Although she did not imagine what she was waiting for her.

The thump of her body against the ground is not so loud, but that doesn’t mean it was less painful.

"If this had been real, you would be dead,” says Nat looking at the girl.

"I can't feel my body,” she complains she dramatically.

"Time's up," says Tony arriving at his new home gym. He approaches the ring. “Come on, Kid. It's movie time.”

"I can’t, I’m dead.”

Nat laughs, Tony watches her.

"I know you and Fury are trying to turn my daughter into James Bond, but even I think this is too much."

“We’re not trying to turn her into nothing. This is just for her to be prepared."

“Whatever," replies Tony, Lily is slowly exiting the ring. "C'mon, spykid.”

After a bath, Happy, Pepper, Tony and Lily get ready in front of the TV to see the next Star Wars movie.

"Have fun!" Nat yells as she walks out of the room.

“Wait!" says Lily getting up from the couch. She runs to the redhead. “Don't you want to see the movie with us? We have popcorn.”

"Honey, I think Natasha has things to do," says Pepper.

Lily looks at Nat with a pout. She laughs.

"Which movie?"

"The return of the jedi.”

"Star Wars?"

Lily nods.

“You'll stay?"

“Sure."

Lily takes her hand and guides her to the individual chair, hands her a blanket, and goes back to her place.

"Why doesn't it surprise me that the Starks are geeks?"

"Hey!" Tony exclaims. "I'm just trying to teach my daughter culture,” He excuses himself when he sees Nat's mocking smile.

From that moment on, movie night has been held twice a month and Natasha is always invited, regardless of whether it is training day or not.

***

"I'm not sure about this," says Lily shivering on the edge of the pool. She has floaties on each arm.

"Easy, I'll be with you,” affirms Happy.

Lily's heart is pounding, she can hear it. She had never been near a pool before.

She slowly sits on the shore and tucks her legs in, feeling the warm water.

“We'll go little by little,” says Happy taking her hands. He pulls and she falls into the water.

"No!" She squeals clinging to the man's body.

"Lily, calm down, I won't let you go, I promise…”

"Class is over,” She says.

"We haven't even started!”

"I see that we’ve progressed,” says Nat walking towards them.

"C'mon, Smarty. Don't you want to show Nat how great you are?" Happy tries to cheer her up.

"I'm not a little girl anymore,” She complains, moving away a little. "And I don't need to prove anything to anyone," She frowns.

"Well said," Nat adds.

“Okay," says Happy defensively.

Lily nods, but then she remembers where she is. She squeals and hugs Happy again, making him laugh. The abrupt movement makes her a little dizzy.

"C'mon, Lils. The floaties will help,” encourages Nat.

"I don't think it's a good idea," She answers, blinking. Her vision begins to blur.

"Trust a little," continues Happy.

Lily sighs and loosens her grip on him. Little by little Happy takes her away to know how to use her arms and legs. She holds onto the shore while Happy swims to show her his movements.

She sighs, shakes her head trying to focus her gaze, thinking that it was her nerves that caused that.

"Your turn,” says Happy.

Lily gets into the position and with awkward movements begins to swim slowly, she smiles.

"I'm doing it!" She squeals. Nat and Happy celebrate behind her, but her excitement ends as their voices grow farther and farther away until they are replaced by a high-pitched, piercing beep.

She gasps and stops. This time, she feels a pressure in her chest, which started with a strong heartbeat, now it seems that her heart is getting weaker.

"I don't feel good," She whispers. Her eyelids weigh down on her and she loses her vision fast. Her weakened body slips away.

"Lily?" shouts Happy when he sees her still in the middle of the pool.

Nat frowns and walks to the other side, she kneels when she’s in front of Lily.

"Lils?" She calls her.

Both adults panic when the girl stops moving. Natasha jumped into the water to help her, Happy swims towards them. The redhead takes Lily and climbs her up, neither wasting time to get her out of it.

The door of the mansion is open, Tony runs to see Natasha trying to make the girl react.

"What the heck happened?" Tony demands kneeling on the other side.

"She was swimming and suddenly she didn't move,” explains Happy, upset.

"Jarvis," says Tony.

“Apparently her body had a reaction against the water, sir. Her pulse is stable now, but I register a drastic change in molecular compounds,” reports Jarvis.

Lily slowly opens her eyes.

"Kid?" Tony calls. She turns to see him. She inhales deeply and exhales trying to speak. He leans in to hear her better.

"I can't move,” She whispers.

"What?" Happy asks.

"Do you put any other chemicals in the pool?" Nat asks.

“No, and that doesn't make sense. You would also have some reaction,” He answers confused.

He takes Lily in his arms, the four enter the mansion.

Thanks to Tony's technology and intelligence -with the help of S.H.I.E.L.D.- They discover that Lily cannot be in large amounts of water. The pool, the sea, she can't even spend a long time in a tub.

"I told you it was not a good idea,” says Lily taking the mug of hot chocolate that Happy gives her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was going to be so bad," He says. He sits on another bench next to her.

"Don't worry, I didn't know it either,” She adjusts the blanket that surrounds her.

They both drink chocolate, waiting for Pepper to finish scolding and asking Tony a thousand things. Ever since she found out what happened, she hasn't stopped yelling at Tony and hugging Lily.

***

"Fix your eyes on the mannequin," Nat says behind the girl.

Now both are in a special room of S.H.I.E.L.D, something similar to a shooting range, the difference is in the fire extinguishers in the back.

“Now," Continues the redhead. "Imagine flame in your hands, feel it, do not stop the tickling.”

Lily sighs and obeys. A soft flame spreads in the palms of her hands.

"Don't limit yourself, nothing bad will happen," She assures.

The flame increases in size.

"Concentrate and launch it towards your goal.”

Lily takes her time. She pushes the invasive thoughts away from her. As if it were baseball, she throws the fire at the mannequin. The projectile hits the target's chest directly. The girl smiles satisfied, she turns to her left, meeting Nat's smile.

“Again."

**

"I was thinking.”

"I hear you,” answers Nat.

“The guns are supposed to have a spark. They can produce fire.”

“Correct."

“So, do you think I can stop the bullet from coming out? As soon as the spark is produced, make the bullet explode?"

Nat frowns.

“We could try, with certain measures, but not for now. What made you think that?"

“You’ve told me that this is all to defend myself,” She shrugs. “Many times someone will try to hurt me with a simple gun. I did some research on the structure of one and came across that."

“It’s good to learn things about your enemy.”

"How do you know who your enemy is?" She looks right into her eyes. “You've told me that I should not trust anyone except my family, but how do I know that someone is my enemy and who wants to be my friend?"

Nat sighs.

“For now, I can help you with that and I know Tony will too. It's not easy, Lils. That's why I told you not to trust anyone. It’s complicated, but you should always be aware of who tries to enter your life. We will not always be with you, so you must keep an eye out.”

The girl nods, processing.

"C'mon, just one exercise and you can take your break.”

“Finally!"

***

Outside the facility, Natasha looks closely at the girl.

“I saw the video in a workshop where you made something similar to a shield. I want you to do it again,” demands Nat from the other side of the glass.

“But I don't know how I did it."

"What did you think when it happened?"

“Well, the armor was going to explode near me. I thought: I don't want to die!"

The agents monitoring the exercise and Nat laugh.

"That works. Think that again. We have practiced, now I want you to imagine fire as protection.”

"That makes no sense. The fire only hurts,” replies Lily.

“Fire also serves as survival, light, warmth, and protection. Imagine a shield, remember what you told me about that night.”

“Good," the girl sighs.

She closes her eyes, remembers the orange particles around her, the thin layer that protected her from the big explosion.

"Good girl,” says Nat.

Lily opens her eyes. The shield surrounds her, almost touching her skin, but it doesn't last long.

“Again."

***

“Kid, come to the workshop. I have a surprise for you,” says Tony from the intercom in Lily's room.

"Did you make me an armor?" She sits on her bed quickly.

“Nice try, but no."

She follows his voice and enters the workshop.

“What's the surprise?"

“This," says Tony standing up from the chair. In his hands he shows a black suit, similar to what surfers or divers wear. She frowns without understanding. Tony rolls his eyes. “I designed it to withstand high temperatures. I could see the expense on my card when replacing a half of your clothes.”

"They were accidents,” She defends.

“Well, they won't happen anymore. Try it on,” He says, holding out the suit. She goes to the bathroom and in minutes she comes back. She caresses the soft, flexible material. “How is it?"

"It's comfortable,” She says moving.

"Are you trying to burn it?"

She looks at him in surprise.

“You sure?"

“You're supposed to have it under control now, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah,” She answers nervously.

"Just try to burn the sleeve.”

Lily concentrates, makes a small flame and puts it on the opposite sleeve. She waits a few seconds and then pulls it away from her. The material of the suit resists.

“It’s a good start. I did several tests, I guess in time we’ll know for sure. I’ll ask the super agents to do more.”

"Do I have to use it all the time?"

"If you don't want to burn your clothes, yes.”

“Fine,” She looks towards her desk. "What are you doing?"

“Investigating," He answers returning to his seat. She follows him.

Desktop screens display many pages and reports along with some photos of a WWII soldier.

"Who is he?"

“Steve Rogers. Captain America. Fury gave me some files on a possible team."

“But he was in the war. Why do you want him now?” She asks without taking her eyes off the files.

Tony watches her, he knows that face. He knows that won't be her only question.

"Sit down, Flower. It's time for a lesson.”

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace​​​​ @yourbonesareinmybody​​​ @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles​​​ @hufflepuffzutara​​​ @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs​​​ @heavenlymistakes​​​ @my-love-of-books​​​ @dielgonacoffee​

[glassworkspiderlilies]

cordial

Genshin Impact | @albelumiweek 2021 Day 7 | Free Day | AO3 Summary: She makes a fist without being asked, and he gives her a faint smile before he opens his mouth, offering a brief view of his pointed incisors before he bites down. Lumine does not flinch, not anymore. She watches serenely as he feeds, ever polite, ever elegant despite the nature of the process. Notes: Ending the week with a vampire AU!! thank you everyone who’s followed along for the week, and thank you to the mods who hosted!!! <3

.

.

.

Albedo is soundless when he slips through the door, but Lumine has grown more used to registering his presence and looks up in time to see him crossing the space to her desk. He smiles at her as he approaches, and she merely looks back down at the paperwork she is going through as though she were not interrupted. 

"That time already?" she asks idly, and she feels rather than sees him take a seat. 

"Yes. But I will wait," Albedo replies amiably, and gives him a grateful arch of her brow.

It takes a little longer than she would have liked to reach a good stopping point. She sets down her pen and leans back in her chair, rubbing at her eyes, though she doesn't get very far before she feels a feather-light touch on the back of her hand. 

"That's not good for your vision," Albedo says softly, and she looks up at him blearily, putting her hands in her lap with a sigh. 

"Neither is staring at paperwork for so long," she says ruefully, looking a little despairingly at what she has left. 

"Then perhaps now is a good time for a break, to indulge me?" 

"I would hardly call this an indulgence." 

But she holds out her hand, and Albedo trails a finger down the length of her forearm. He chooses a vein, then loosens his cravat to tie it tightly around her arm. He taps at her skin, then glances up briefly. She makes a fist without being asked, and he gives her a faint smile before he opens his mouth, offering a brief view of his pointed incisors before he bites down.

Lumine does not flinch, not anymore. She watches serenely as he feeds, ever polite, ever elegant despite the nature of the process. He has always treated this so...medically that even during the first time, it never felt wholly wrong. 

As she watches him this time, however, a thought floats up to the forefont of her brain, a stupid curiosity that she is voicing before she can stop herself. (Later, she will blame it on her fuzzy mind, a result of overworking.)

"Do you ever drink from elsewhere?" she asks, and Albedo lifts his head, blinking in surprise, his teeth still red. 

"I...well, yes, sometimes," he says, glancing down at the punctures on her arm. "But the arm is...easier."

"And the neck?" 

"The neck?"

"Yes. Like in the classic stories." 

Albedo tilts his head, eyes a little wider, almost innocent, though there is a particular gleam as well. 

"Why...are you asking?" 

"Curiosity, I suppose. Your method is very different from the stories, from what I've seen."

He chuckles a little, then bends back down to swipe the blood surfacing from his bite with his tongue. In the next moment, he's wrapping a clean bandage around her arm.  

"The neck can be easier in other ways," he concedes, his focus on his task, "But it can also be...dangerous."

"How so?" 

"You've larger and more important veins there. They require more pressure afterwards, and if you are not terribly careful with the bite to begin with, then you could very well kill someone. It is why the classic stories feature it thus, as we...did not care about being careful."

Lumine taps her fingers a couple times on her desk. 

"And that is why the Hunts against your kind became so fevered."

Albedo inclines his head.

"Just so." 

They are silent for a moment as he finishes wrapping her arm, the extent of the bandage a little more excessive than usual. Lumine does not pull her hand back when he finished, and nor does he remove his own.

"But it's possible?" she says, the question seeming too loud in the air, "To drink from the neck, without killing."

Albedo sits back, his eyes narrowing a little.

"Most things are possible," he says, the implication of but that does not mean they should all be attempted clear. 

Lumine hums, considering.

"I'd like you to indulge me," she says, and he draws in a sharp breath.

He stares at her, almost in disbelief. She can tell that he is mapping out the reasons why she offers—there's a few, really. At present, he needs to feed often from her, and she can tell from the amount he takes at a time that it is not quite enough to satiate him. When he does feed, it's always from the arm, which makes for a sore spot due to the frequency. If he were able to draw from her neck, while she might be more tired after, it would sustain him longer. And...it's an exercise of trust, yes between a vampire and the Lightbearer, which would go a long way in repairing reputation.

But most of all, it is an extension of trust between them as individuals. 

Even so. Such a thing favors Albedo wholly, and he gazes at her, trying to determine what the benefit is for her.

She smiles, understanding the unspoken question.

“It’s a secret,” she says, only a little mischievously, “Are you willing to find out?”

His brow furrows lightly, and he leans forward, highly hesitant. But she begins to unbutton the high neck of her dress, pulling back the collar to reveal her slender neck, and he will not pretend disinterest; he cannot hide the hunger that lights his eyes.

“Be gentle, will you?” she teases, and he tilts his head.

“Am I not always?” he asks, and her eyes crinkle.

“Yes,” she says, quietly. “Sometimes, too much so.”

It is silent between them again.

Lumine pulls back her collar even further; Albedo meets her eyes again, then looks to her neck. He trails his fingers down its length as he did with her arm, then hovers his lips just above her skin.

After a moment, she feels wetness of his tongue, then the slight prick of his teeth before they sink in entirely. She lets out a small noise—it is a new sensation, in a new location—but Albedo does not pull back.

He drinks.

The new position is exquisitely intimate, and the longer they stay that way the faster she feels her heart beat. She begins to feel dizzy—though she doesn’t know whether it’s from the heat flushing her body or blood loss. She doesn’t know how long his lips have been on her neck, but it’s not in protest when she reaches up a hand and twines her fingers into his hair.

She feels it when he drinks deep, and a gasp escapes as he does so. In the next moment he’s pulling back as though ripping himself from her, putting a hand over her puncture wounds and pressing down, reaching for bandages again.

She’s a little dazed. Lumine allows him his ministrations, but there’s a stiffer manner to him now, as though he is relying on the politeness rather than extending it the natural way he usually does.

“Was that enough of an indulgence?” he asks quietly as he steps back, and it takes a minute for Lumine to answer him, distracted by his lashes, the way he won’t look at her, the way his own pale skin is suffused with just a hint of color.

“Perhaps,” she murmurs. “And for you?”

He looks at her sharply, his brows knitted in what seems like irritation or confusion. But she smiles. He can be distant, yes, and may be lacking in interpersonal skills. But he is a smart man, too, and she can tell that he is coming to realize just what it is she’s gained from the interaction.

A break in his defenses.

“You walk a dangerous line,” he says quietly, his hands curling into fists before he hides them behind his back.

“I always do; it is part of my work.”

He says nothing, looking at the ground. She is not offended by his reticence and leans back in her seat, glancing out the window at the shifting night that never lifts.

“The years are long, Albedo,” she finally says, her voice soft, “And very empty.”

He goes still at the familiar sentiment voiced aloud. There are not many as long-lived as they.

It is only now that he comes to realize their meeting may not only have been a miracle to him.  

“…They are,” he says soberly.  

There is no more room to hesitate, he supposes. He’d thought to allow her space where he could, when he’d already occupied her body to sustain himself—but she continues to draw him.

And creatures such as him are greedy—though such is his own nature, as well.

He gives a defeated sigh and walks back to her, perching himself on the arm of her chair.

She looks up at him, holds out her hand. He bends down and presses her palm to his cheek, then turns his lips to the inside of her wrist.

“It does not have to be,” he murmurs, and her laugh is a little choked, as well.

He presses a kiss against her lips—chaste, too gentle. She sighs against his mouth, and leans into his side after they part.  

They sit there for some time, still and silent, holding each other’s hands, taking comfort that they no longer have to walk through the darkness alone.    

[prettywordsyouleft]

MonX Hospital | Kihyun

Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x reader

Genre: ENT doctor – hospital au / romance / musical actress au

Warnings: medical terms and recovery, slight suggestive tone at the end

Word count: 3579

Index: Shownu | Wonho | Minhyuk | Kihyun | Hyungwon | Jooheon | Changkyun

“He’s the best of the best,” your manager Dot had urged, her tone too excited for something so serious. “You’ll be back to singing in no time. In fact, you’ll be singing my praises once it’s all over and done with!”

You hadn’t appreciated Dot’s enthusiasm one bit but you couldn’t deny as you looked at the oak door before you that her glowing recommendation had you more than a little hopeful for today’s hospital appointment.

You needed to see the best ENT specialist if you wanted to recover and return to your headlining spot as a musical actress.

“Miss L/N?” a well-presented nurse called out and you perked up from your seat, watching her reach for the handle of the oak door and welcoming you inside. “Doctor Yoo is ready for you now.”

Stepping inside the office, you took in the wall of accolades appreciatively and then sat in the seat the nurse directed you to in front of an expansive desk. Looking at the various medical models upon a shelf near another door, you jumped when it opened suddenly and a young doctor entered the room.

This surprised you greatly. You had expected someone much older if he was the best in this field.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Doctor Yoo, your specialist for today,” he greeted with a broad smile that curled up his eyes behind his circular glasses.

Smiling curtly as you slipped your hand into his outstretched one, you greeted the handsome man quietly as you battled with the conflicted thoughts within your mind. You wanted a doctor who could help you, not someone who looked as if he had just graduated from medical school.

Doctor Yoo then perched on the front of his desk in front of you, still smiling comfortably. “Are you nervous? Don’t be. If anything, it should be me who is taken back in your presence. I’ve seen you perform a few times. I never expected I’d be treating you for a vocal cord condition, however.”

“These things happen,” you mentioned politely whilst silently berating yourself for the umpteenth time.

You knew better than to overdo it. The warnings from the professionals working for your production team had been there all along. Your voice was what had earned you just as many accomplishments as the doctor had upon his wall. You were a rising star, a household name in affluent circles. Your roles had surpassed all your childhood expectations and now you were headlining the biggest acts each year.

Your greed was what led you to sitting in front of the specialist today. You craved to be better than your last performance every time. And now you couldn’t even sing one simple line, let alone talk without your voice breaking and feeling hoarse consistently.

“Of course, I’ve seen it countless times, so you’re in good hands.”

“I can’t help but notice your appearance doesn’t quite match what I expected when hearing you’re the best in this field, Doctor Yoo.”

“There’s the honest side to you that I was waiting for,” he mentioned with a grin as he rounded his desk and sat behind it. Somehow, this shift in position did seem to change the power within the room. He looked more like a doctor to you now as he scanned your file on the computer screen to the left of the desk. Doctor Yoo then nodded grimly. “These symptoms don’t sound pleasant.”

“I’ve had some preliminary testing done and-”

“The laryngoscopy results were inconclusive of either suspected vocal cord nodules or paralysis.”

“Hardly the latter, don’t you think? I can still talk and paralysis sounds…”

“Permanent?” the man offered and you nodded. He shook his head immediately. “It is a concern to treat any of these in someone who needs their voice for their career as some damage is hard to repair. But it’s not impossible to overcome with the right vocal therapy and treatment. Shall we get to business? So, you know, I can exercise my expertise and show you that being one of the younger doctors in this profession doesn’t make me incompetent.”

You bit back your flustered response, swallowing roughly before nodding. “That’s why I’m here, Doctor Yoo.”

It was a long two hours in and out of Doctor Yoo’s office. He did testing with you in person, asking for you to complete various exercises using your voice and throat, and then took you in to get some further images of your larynx. Not only was he thorough with his examination and took more time with his assessment than the last two doctors had, but you could also sense his superiority in skill. You appreciated him the longer you spent time in his company, able to tell just how dedicated he was to his patients and his skill.

You felt you were within very capable hands.

“So how was that?” Doctor Yoo mentioned when he had you seated back in front of his desk, a sly smile tainting his otherwise impeccable professionalism.

“I’ll express what I think when you’re done telling me the official results of the tests, Doctor.”

“Well, that seems fair.” He steepled his fingers together upon the tabletop of the desk and sighed. “It’s as I expected in beginning, you have a condition referred commonly to as Vocal Cord Paralysis.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“With the symptoms present and the way you performed through the examination, it was evident that you had-”

“Are you sure?” you interjected, panic rising within you. Admittedly you had hoped for a nodule, or two. Then you could simply undertake surgery and then vocal therapy and get back to work within a couple of months. You’d seen celebrities battle vocal nodules and their turn around from injury to comeback stage wasn’t that bad. You could hardly tell the difference in their vocal tone as well.

But this prognosis held greater risks. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know this. You had researched the condition, fooling yourself that despite the list of symptoms you weren’t in this category as it was usually a cause to an underlying medical condition. Aside from your vocal injury, you were in the best health you had been in years.

The doctor’s expression was unchanged. Resolute. You knew Doctor Yoo wouldn’t be telling you this unless it was the only outcome of his findings. Blinking back tears, you darted your focus towards his accomplishments, feeling insignificant within their presence.

“It’s not all bad news, Y/N. I know it’s not as simple as you no doubt imagined, but we can get through this together. For one, your condition is a mild case, which will respond well to treatment and heal faster than if it were more severe. I don’t think this is a cause of misuse of your vocal cords either.”

“What? But, that’s ridiculous. Why else would I be here? I’m a musical actress; my job is to perform every night for two months at a time. I’ve been yelling, singing and putting pressure on my vocal cords for a great deal lately and-”

“You were in a car accident earlier in the year, were you not?”

“Yes, though it was minor and I only suffered whiplash from it,” you stated, the doctor now tapping in further notes. “Surely that wouldn’t cause this kind of damage.”

“One of your vocal cords isn’t opening and closing as it should. We typically see this condition in patients with some sense of trauma to the area. And whilst I know firsthand the type of demand on your vocal cords you would have every day in your profession, I don’t think it’s entirely your fault.”

It was overwhelming to hear this. You had spent the last few weeks with the rapid decline in your ability to even speak clearly blaming yourself for everything. Could it have been more out of your control than you had thought? Glancing up at the doctor waiting on you to process his words, he smiled.

“Either way, we know what is wrong with your vocal cords and I’m certain we will have you back to singing again, Y/N.”

“But not within the next couple of months.”

He nodded softly. “A fair bit longer. But I promise, my time with you will be worth it.”

Doctor Yoo hadn’t been wrong. The second test results confirmed his diagnosis and after some bulk injections to strengthen your vocal cords, you started vocal therapy with the doctor. You would mostly meet with him in his private clinic away from the hospital and you happened to like this space much better. It was still professional, but not as intimidating as his office in the hospital.

You also loosened off a little within these sessions.

“You once said to me that you knew firsthand what vocal cord troubles felt like.”

The man before you demonstrating the next exercise soon chuckled. “Memory skills are not lacking with you.”

“Of course not, I have to remember my lines as if they’re embedded into my very soul. I could recite my first musical role to you if I had to.”

“Impressive,” he replied and motioned for you to start the breathing exercise. “I used to sing.”

“Used to?”

“Focus on your exercise,” he warned, checking the air filling your diaphragm. Satisfied you were stable, Doctor Yoo continued. “When I was a teen I actually belonged to a musical theatre club too. I was stupid and dumb about my talent and got vocal nodules. Most people recover from this condition but for me, I was so used to belting out my notes that I could never reach the range I was known for again.”

“You were a theatre kid?” Blinking in confusion, you peered at your doctor more closely. “Did we ever cross paths?”

He smiled to himself knowingly. “I guess you could say that.”

“Where?”

“Next exercise,” Doctor Yoo instructed and left you puzzled until the very end of the session.

Of course, you went straight online to research the doctor. You knew his first name was Kihyun, though little results appeared outside of his already rather detailed medical career.

At your next appointment, you attempted to ask again, and he deflected your interest, seemingly enjoying being an enigma to you. It infuriated you but if there was one thing he wasn’t prepared for, was how diligent you were to find the answers to any problem you held within your heart or mind.

“You went to the same theatre program as I did, didn’t you?” you mentioned two weeks later, and the man smirked.

“Still trying to figure this out?”

“Well, you’re supplying very little information, Doctor Yoo.”

“Please, if you’re researching me this ardently, call me Kihyun. I’ve been on a first-name basis with you from the beginning; we should really level this out.”

You pursed your lips together and nodded. “Will you answer me?”

“Will you work very hard on strengthening your vocal cords today?” he shot back and you rolled your eyes.

“Isn’t that why I’m here?”

“I don’t know, sometimes I think you’re too interested in finishing your puzzle.”

“I knew you were tormenting me on purpose, Kihyun!”

He grinned, thrilled with the use of his first name. “Well, it’s been fun having you as my patient. Even better knowing that your memory skills fail you somewhat.”

“Excuse me?!” you exclaimed and then stopped, glaring at the smug doctor as you dealt the strain on your larynx. “Did you not praise my skills recently?”

“Oh yes, but they’re still lacking. Until you fix them, I don’t know if I should give you the answers you want.”

“You’re infuriating!”

“Now now, the doctor knows best and I think it’s more important we focus on this week’s session, don’t you?”

It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did, but Kihyun’s lack of answer drove you insane. You were more than convinced the doctor was simply messing with you, but it had gotten to extreme measures and now before you were all the yearbooks from your theatre school days. You started at the latest editions, looking through the clearer memories since you were older in age then. However, it wasn’t until you reached your fifteenth-year-old self that you realised just how much you had forgotten.

There, next to you, in your first lead role in a Romeo and Juliet musical, was a guy with longer hair than he sported now, reminding you of a whole lot more than just the musical theatre life.

How had you forgotten Yoo Kihyun like this?!

Embarrassment flamed your skin as the annoyance seeped throughout you. Of all the people, this child had grown up to be your doctor? You almost scoffed at how improbable this all seemed.

And then you remembered Kihyun’s sudden disappearance.

The reason he had departed from your world and turned to partying, and other teenage behaviours you had no interest in at the time, was because of his vocal nodules? Your heart panged with sadness that he had chosen that path instead of reaching out for help from you. Then again, you were prickly back then, even worse than now. Would you have been approachable for your co-star? You smiled sadly with the silver lining that Kihyun had grown up from his rebellious youth into someone as competent as he was.

You were more subdued at your next appointment because of your discovery, however.

Watching you carefully as you performed the exercise he asked for you to do without little complaint, Kihyun sighed. “You remember, don’t you?”

“How could I forget my first kiss?” you shot back and Kihyun grinned. “The prompt in the script was to pretend, not full-on kiss me as I lay there!”

“Is that why you forgot about me? Because you wanted to erase how your first kiss went? In all fairness, not a bad first kiss to have.”

“In front of a full house, with my parents there, no less?” you pointed out and Kihyun shrugged loosely. “I actually wasn’t that mad by it.”

“Then why did you-”

“Your disappearance. I guess when you gave up on theatre, after I got over my initial annoyance from having to work with your understudy for the remainder of the season, I must have stopped giving you space in my mind.”

“You knew where I was.”

“Partying, drinking, and doing god knows what else.”

“Suffering alone,” he concluded and your eyes softened when your gaze connected with his. Kihyun chuckled, though it wasn’t as connected as before. “Don’t pity me, Y/N. I got over it and realised I was being an idiot. I chose to become an Otolaryngologist to help others so they don’t lose their chance for something they want to keep in the future.”

“You can’t sing anymore?”

“Not powerfully. But I’ve improved. My interest is no longer there like before. I’d rather execute a medical surgery with no complications than worry about stressing out my falsetto too much.”

“I don’t know what I would do without being a musical actress,” you admitted and Kihyun nodded, patting your upper arm gently.

“The good news is, with how much you’re progressing, you won’t have to think about it.”

It had taken an entire year to make it back to standing on a practise stage. Even longer to be strong enough to sing as you once had. Your voice tired more easily, and whilst you wanted to headline your comeback stage, you knew it was more practical to take the second lead role.

Your vocal therapy ended eight months into your recovery, and you hadn’t seen Kihyun since. It felt strange to not visit his office anymore, and sometimes you found yourself standing in front of it, not realising you had driven there until you were parking your car and getting out.

So many times, you wished to go up to the eighth floor and visit the office again. Or book an appointment just for extra treatment. But you knew it was pointless. You had parted ways amicably, with the loose promise that Kihyun was looking forward to your return to the big stage.

Maybe that was why you had worked so hard to make sure when you returned that it was in your best possible condition ever.

“Are you nervous?”

Glancing at your manager standing in front of the promotional poster for this musical, Sun and Moon, you nodded. “More than I was to take my first Broadway stage.”

“Really?”

“Coming back from my vocal injury is a big deal. I’ve already been interviewed four times this week about it, remember,” you mentioned and Dot smiled.

“I’m sure you’ll remind them why you’re a formidable actress.”

“I just hope to make it to the end without making any noticeable vocal mistakes.”

You had made peace with yourself over the weeks of rehearsals that you couldn’t be perfect anymore. Your voice would lead the way, and you could only work with what it best offered you. Still, the interviews had made your nerves skyrocket, and you wrung your hands together in your lap as you stared back at your made-up complexion.

You would do well and that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t long into the first act that you completely relaxed into your role. Acting was now a second skin for you to slip into. You became one with your character and by the end of the performance, you had almost forgotten about the audience.

You were just having fun dancing, singing and acting on the big stage again.

The applause brought you back to reality, and as you lined up with your co-stars for the final curtain call, you felt yourself growing anxious again.

Was Kihyun really here?

Looking as best as you could past the flashing lights and up into the multiple rows of the full house, you searched the crowd for his familiar face. Your hopes dashed when you couldn’t find him anywhere, laughing a little at how much you had anticipated him being here for your first stage back.

After changing out of your final act’s outfit, you joined the rest of the cast out in the foyer to meet with those grateful of your performance tonight. You thanked several familiar patrons for their support and then turned when someone called your name, your eyes widening when you connected with the person.

He came. He was here.

Kihyun smiled brightly as he approached you, thrusting a large bouquet of flowers in your dazed direction. “Congratulations on your comeback, Y/N.”

Soul searching his expression, you shook your head; blinking even to make sure the doctor was still standing before you. Kihyun helped you out by shaking your stupor off. You let out a shaky breath. “You’re really here.”

“I told you I wouldn’t miss it. I mean, your recovery is down to my expertise. I had to see how my hard work paid off in person, didn’t I? You were exceptional.”

“Are you complimenting me or yourself right now?”

Kihyun chuckled. “There’s the Y/N I know well.”

“Do you really?” you shot back and Kihyun’s humour faded. “I don’t know if you know all about me yet.”

“How so-”

Your lips pressed to his quickly, your eyes snapping closed as you tried to shut out everyone else around you. This, this was why you had been searching for Kihyun all this time in your world. You hadn’t realised until seeing him again that your reconnection with him as his patient had led to a rise in feelings within you.

You knew now that back when he very first kissed you that you had liked him then as well.

When you pulled back, it was Kihyun’s turn to look stuck, his mouth still slightly ajar as he contemplated the impromptu kiss. Swallowing visibly and tucking his jaw back up, Kihyun cocked his head to the side. “Is that payback for me taking your first kiss without warning?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s not very professional of me to be locking lips with my patients, Y/N.”

“Ex-patient,” you corrected and Kihyun couldn’t hide his amused smile. You nodded with his previous comment, however. “You’re right. It’s not very professional of a musical actress to get involved with her ENT doctor either.”

“Ex-doctor,” he refuted, sharing a grin with you. “Right now, I’m off the clock so I’m not technically breaking any laws.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm,” he hummed, stepping closer to you and running his hand gently over the side of your neck. “Maybe you need more training.”

“I do?”

“Well, I haven’t heard just how well you can control those vocal cords of yours yet. I think maybe I should take you out for dinner and we’ll see if I can get a private performance later.”

“How bold of you to assume I wish to give you one,” you stated, though your heart was thudding in your chest with anticipation. “Haven’t I performed enough tonight for you?”

“Maybe you’ll get to hear what’s left of my falsetto too,” Kihyun enticed and you laughed, resting your head on his shoulder affectionately. He wrapped his arms around you as you smelt the flowers he had gifted you.

“You know, I have often wondered what you sound like now.”

“So I have your interest in another puzzle of mine?”

“I’m always interested in you, Doctor Yoo.”

“I thought we resolved this a long time ago,” he responded with a wicked smile, holding you close enough to kiss you again. “Call me Kihyun.”

_________________

Next: Hyungwon

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[MONSTA X Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 15

Oooh, Audra's deepest darkest secret becomes known and puts her that much closer to danger of entrapment while the Voyambi's have to admit the ugly truth of their current view of their own heritage vs their station in English society.

@punkhorse96 GURL. Buckle up Buttercup because we are almost getting to the peak of this roller coaster. Because the Komoba battle will be the peak, the court case- the fall and then it's the throws and twists and lurches to follow.

Also Stregabor from the Witcher? Who else could play the most devious of mages? Who else I ask you? Who?

Blood For Gold

Chapter 15

“Oh there you are Axal, I need you for just a moment.” Yalin insisted as she saw him leave his rooms, having waited outside of them for the last half hour for him to emerge since she had gotten up extra early to catch Axal at the earliest moment possible.

“Is everything alright?” He asked as she grabbed ahold of his hand and drug him down the hallway.

“Yes, yes, of course, it’s fine, I just need a private word with you.” She did her best to reassure him but Axal could sense her panic before she pulled him into a spare room and dismissed the servants in the hall so their ears could not eavesdrop.

“Do you have any affection for Ramsey? I need you to be completely honest and transparent.” Yalin pressed.

“I do.” Axal slowly nodded as he frowned deeply in confusion at her, not knowing where she was going to go with such a line of questioning.

“Then I need your help to find him a wife as soon as possible.” Yalin insisted.

“Uh, I don’t..quite..” Axal frowned deeper.

“Axal, I will be perfectly frank and honest with you, Gregori has long had his eye on your sister Audra for Ramsey ever since Ramsey said that she was the only one for him at her wedding to Count Edward Morrigan of all places.” Yalin began. “And it is clear that Audra has no interest in him and I have already given Audra my word to protect her from a marriage of convenience but little love and I fully intend to keep my word, but before Gregori has a chance to pressure her into a match she will find no joy or happiness in, I need to find another for Ramsey. Do you know of anyone, anywhere, in any court who could both be a lady of good wealth, breeding and most of all availability?” Yalin pressed him as Axal simply blinked in surprise at her as realization seemed to dawn on him.

“I must be clear, I have no issue with you having affection or attachment or romantic entanglements with Ramsey. And Audra seems happy for your happiness. And I know she must love you. And I know she would rather much leave Ramsey’s heart to your care than her own. But Gregori has his mind made up and I need someone who will satisfy Gregori’s need for an heir from Ramsey, so that leaves your sister free to pursue a union with another who can give her the love and care she deserves without the expectation of an heir because such endeavors would endanger her life, but...you see what bind we are in.” Yalin expressed.

“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I have already reached out to Lady Octavia Lafronze, she’s only 27, she can still bear a child or a few even, she has a companion who can pose as my own wife if we need to keep a ruse going for the public. She will be here only the day before the Komoba battle. She’s on her way already. Audra knows of my attachment to Ramsey and until Octavia can get here, she has agreed to “play along” until then and even Ramsey has agreed to switch his “interest” when she does arrive. And Lady Octavia will fill our need. We just need to be patient.” Axal revealed.

“Oh thank the heavens.” Yalin breathed in relief as she leaned against a nearby table and clutched her middle.

“Ok, so here is the other thing. Audra’s case against the Morrigans, I don’t know if it would be best to go forward. I fear it may be more troublesome than it’s worth and whatever justice that Audra has already gotten, I fear that is all she may ever receive.” Yalin hinted.

“Audra prizes her peace. She may not want to revisit the past and rehash and open up old wounds. I will feel her out on this.” Axal reassured her.

“Thank you.” Yalin nodded as she blew out another breath of relief before Yalin gave him a reassuring squeeze to his hand before she hastily made it out of the room and quickly went down to breakfast before an attendant came and handed Axal a note, instructions to him written by his grandmother as Axal nodded and quickly asked for directions to where he had just been instructed to meet with the rest of his family before he went back into his room to get redressed in the approrpriate attire.

By the time Yalin got down to breakfast, hardly anyone was there.

“Where is everyone?” Yalin asked as it seemed that only the Voyambi’s and the Raymonds were at breakfast before Jane came into breakfast and sat down next to Charlotte.

“Jane dear, do you know where Audra and her family are this morning?” Yalin inquired.

“Yes, Audra’s grandmother got her up quite early this morning and they asked for breakfast to be brought to the gardens, they are all preparing for the kamoba battle. Apparently they all plan on participating.” Jane answered.

“Ah, that...that does explain it.” Yalin realized as she sat down as she noticed all the Voyambi youngsters seem to eagerly inhale their food before excusing themselves from the table, Ramsey and Charlotte included, leaving just Jane with the Duke and Duchess Voyambi and Gregori and Yalin.

“Do you not wish to see the training yourself?” Duchess Voyambi asked her curiously once Jane was invited to sit closer to them towards the head of the table.

“No, for the last two years I have watched Audra continue her training in private, although my parents forbade her from actually wielding any weapons, she was able to practice with sticks in the gardens and practice the drills in her room after waking up and before going to bed. Mouras take physical fitness to an extreme, even the women are trained like soldiers.” Jane explained.

“Like the orcish shield maidens of old.” Duchess Voyambi noted to her husband with a grin which he soon mirrored.

"And warchieftesses too." Duke Voyambi grinned.

“It is quite the spectacle. I remember watching my Dearest train for hours before the battle, even the exercises are quite intense.” Gregori noted with a sweet adoring smile to his wife that she did her best to return but Gregori could see something in her eyes and that her smile did not reach them as he gave her a curious look before she quickly looked away and blushed just a little under his scrutiny.

“Well it’s been ages since I even tried the exercises, I think it would do me good just to try to see how much I still remember.” Yalin said as she excused herself from the table after eating only a few bites, to get redressed into the more appropriate attire as Gregori got up and followed his wife before Jane excused herself from the table as well, leaving the Duke and Duchess Voyambi to sit in bewilderment.

“What is troubling you Dearest?” Gregori asked as he helped loosen the ties of her corset and untie her dress from her body.

“You are.” Yalin confessed.

“How do I trouble you?” Gregori asked before Yalin turned around and faced him.

“Audra drank a gallon of mourkatili. A gallon of it Gregori. With such a dosage, it is a miracle she is even alive. She is tainted and poisoned beyond repair. She can not bear Ramsey heirs and Ramsey needs a legitimate heir and woman of good breeding and nobility to give it to him. Likewise, Audra deserves a mate who can be loyal and faithful to her and I know her well enough that she will not put up with disloyalty in her marriage mate. She deserves faithfulness and devotion in all things. She has suffered more than enough as it is and before the ball at Havenfield, she came to me at the Gold Finch and asked me to guide her to a match who would treat her with kindness, respect, reverence, loyalty, devotion and faithfulness.” Yalin insisted.

“Do you think Ramsey incapable of giving such things to her?” Gregori posed.

“Yes, because he is already giving those things to her brother, which Audra is actually happy about. It would make her miserable to know that Ramsey would have to choose between Axal and herself and she would much rather have Axal be with Ramsey privately. But publicly, she can not be expected to act the perfect wife in public but in secret to know that she would share her husband with her brother of all people. And separating Axal from Ramsey would hurt all three of them. You and Ramsey both need to give up on the idea of Audra being Ramsey’s future wife and we need to consider other possibilities and I gave Audra my word that I would guard her against a marriage such as that and I have every intention of keeping my word. She is not the same woman who her master makes her out to be. She has suffered and changed too much at the hands of the Morrigans and she can not produce heirs. She is of no use to us, she is a dear girl but she is a lost cause.” Yalin maintained, choosing her words carefully.

“Oh I disagree, I think this palace is the perfect place for her and she’s plenty useful still, I think she’s finding her stride here and just because she can’t have heirs, doesn’t mean she can’t mother Ramsey’s illegitimate heirs to adopt them and make them legitimate and Axal is free to stay and keep Ramsey company as long as Audra plays her part publicly. She can have whatever affairs she wishes to have, because such seed taking root is obviously null and void.” Gregori readily shook his head no in friendly disagreement.

“How?! How in the world, is she still of use to us?” Yalin demanded.

“Dear, did you not get enough sleep last night? You aren’t thinking this through or not seeing this clearly then. We can use her treatment from the Morrigan’s hand to win over all of their fortune to her in court. You read the letter from the Mage, we have more than enough proof to string them up in the town square. She’s still an heiress of a great fortune and breeding.” Gregori insisted.

“But what of Jane? Of young Count Edward the third Morrigan? Jane is only a teenager and the young count is still a child. What would become of them?” Yalin asked.

“Audra has a good heart, she has affection for Jane, she will make sure Jane is taken care of and of course Jane, by Audra’s insistence is innocent. Besides Audra’s brother seems to like her enough. I’m sure he could always play the hero and take her and her little brat of a brother with him back to Dorierra to live happily ever after and save her from her monstrous parents and the Morrigans can be made an example of. Think of all the gossip papers you will sell telling everyone all about it.” Gregori incited.

“But what if Audra does not want that? Doesn’t want to be in our family? We can not force her to marry Ramsey just because you want her wealth and the court may not do as you say, we can’t afford to buy off every judge and juror to win it in Audra’s favor and the Morrigans have enough wealth to appeal it to the highest of courts where such measures are forbidden.” Yalin pressed anxiously.

“Oh once she sees all the benefits of being in the second most powerful family in England, no woman can resist. A life of lavish luxury with only having to smile and wave and play the tiniest of parts to enjoy it. The komoba battle will reawaken every moura instinct she has, she will see reason and see that our family is the only family she needs or should want to be a part of.” Gregori insisted as he kissed his wife’s knuckles sweetly before he called for her attendants to help her get dressed as she stood there in only her shift, her clothes long since fallen off to the floor.

“I’ll see you down in the gardens Dearest. Don’t worry about a thing, I have it all under control.” Gregori reassured his wife sweetly as Yalin just stared in thinly veiled horror at his back. She knew her husband well, he was not going to be easily swayed and she feared of what other measures he had already taken in the endeavour.

Gregori left and immediately went down to see you in particular as Demsey and his own brothers had gotten changed into appropriate fencing attire so that they could participate as well since Demsey and his siblings, his brothers especially had done nothing but gawk at you and the other mouras in small, very form fitting white work out clothes and bits of white leather armour in places in the outfit.

Demsey had thought he had walked into a fevered dream, watching you wield a sword and a small shield like a true shield maiden and every orc instinct had been screaming at him that at last, he had found a true warchieftess and he needed to show off to you his own fighting ability, as limited as it was compared to the other fighting styles you were clearly displaying. Being in high society, he was used to fencing and shooting, but that was the extent of it. Some of the common orcs still held brawling battles with the weapons of wars of old, like battle axes and broadswords and the like in the clan halls, but such things were seen as unseemly to the orcs in higher society and seen as barbaric and Demsey and his family as well as the other orcs in high society had made efforts to distance themselves from the “common” orcs in such things in order to be accepted by the rest of the gentry.

But now- seeing the style of which mouras fought- the style similarities were clear and perfectly natural. However the manner of the komoba fighting was much more aggressive and meant for a battlefield, meant to actually slay and kill your opponent, with the match only ending when it was clear that the opponent would be one pass from a weapon away from decapitating or dismembering the opponent with blows that would kill the other in quick succession. It was both beautiful in it’s violence, devastating in efficiency but yet had a dramatic flair that was impossible to resist being drawn in to see how each match would play out, where fencing played out on a thin strip of space, this was set in an octagon shape. The spaces lined out with paint in the grass itself.

One had to have a keen eye and lightning fast reflexes to strike and counter strike and the weapons, although these were made of wood or very dull metals, they were dipped in paint to show all the blows and strikes and “kills” that shown up on the white leather armour of the participants with barrels of water and cloths to wipe away the paint after each match with buckets and buckets of paint for the weapons to be painted in- in every color of the rainbow and then some.

Your paint color of choice was a brilliant turquoise and Demsey had watched with eager anticipation how when sparring with your grandmother- whose color was a brilliant copper orange- how your grandmother who was clearly the master and teacher of the group, all others taking instruction from her.

At first she had simply gone over the drills with you, all of you sitting in grid pattern, doing the exercises and drills with your grandmother staying close to you, using surprising gentleness in her critique, offering just as much praise as she did censure about your form of the various stretching poses and fighting poses as she was the first to spar with you, seeing how much you had remembered and how much your body remembered and how much you had lost over the last two years of neglecting the practice.

At one point she had blindfolded you and had short staff and a longer one in each hand and walked around you and occasionally would gently tap at your body to signify attacks, some of them light, some of them more forceful, to see how you reacted, evaded and counterattacked, leaning on your other senses besides sight to do so and Demsey had never seen anything more captivating and it made him ache and yearn to be a part of it, thus, the fencing attire, he and his brothers now sported.

Not even boxing fighters in a ring had so much contact with their opponents as this style of fighting did. Sometimes the key was to keep the enemy at a distance, other times it was to get as close as physically possible to deliver the devastating blow, sometimes it even involved grappling and pinning the other to the ground first. It struck Demsey to see the methods and philosophy behind each move and style of fighting and how it seemed to encompass everything and style and way of thinking and how there was clearly an array and a scale to it. Some of the styles were very simple, others- much more complicated but when blended made something awe inspiring.

Gregori had watched the match with your grandmother until she noticed that Gregori seemed to be waiting to speak with you and ended the session for the moment so that you could speak with him in private.

“Yes?” You asked Gregori as he pulled you aside and took your arm into the crook of his elbow after you had wiped off all the copper paint from your body so that none would get on Gregori or his clothes.

“How are you liking things here at the palace?” Gregori asked.

“It’s a palace, everything is exquisite.” You answered pleasantly, already on guard as you could tell Gregori was about to try his best to sell his son to you as a husband.

“Has everything been to your liking so far?” Gregori asked.

“Yes,” you nodded as you smiled politely.

“Could I speak candidly with you?” He asked politely.

“Please do, I thoroughly enjoy honest and candid conversation.” You encouraged him.

“I understand that from partaking in mourkatili, even with as high of a dose as you have been forced to partake in, that your reproductive abilities are hindered.” He began.

“That...is true.” You nodded, even though in truth you had tried to take pains to use eastern medicine to recapture it. But you could not be sure of your results.

“I want you to know that if you and Ramsey were to ever enter into a romantic attachment that you should know that we would never, ever, expect you to mother heirs. Your life is worth more than any hiers you would risk your life trying to bear.” Gregori assured you.

“...ok.” You blinked in surprise as you frowned in confusion, which was utterly adorable.

“You see Ramsey has had several lovers and already has many illegitimate heirs and if you were to ever marry, you could always save those illegitimate heirs and make them legitimate by adopting them. It would bring them out of poverty and give them the lives they rightly deserve but yet, Yalin and I, our hands are tied so to speak to do any better for them than we already have.” Gregori explained.

“And I understand that your brother and Ramsey have already become attached and it would only be right that he should remain by your side, to live out his days to make sure that you never again suffer and both of you could live perfectly comfortably and happily here with us.” Gregori offered.

“But such a life...it would not be honest,” you began to softly and gently counter.

“But it would be fair. So far the investigation with the Morrigans have found solid evidence and proof of their attempts to murder you. The courts will surely award all that they have to you for recompense. We have the power to make that happen. We can elevate you to that of Dauphine in English society and as a Dowager among the stables. We can get you justice and revenge for what you’ve suffered. We had a mage help with the investigation. He found your scene catcher spell, with the password, we can have all we need on Agnes and Richard.” Gregori revealed as you blinked in surprise as fear seemed to bloom in your chest. If they had already broken the password, you could be finished.

“But Jane and I corrupted some of the feed. The moment of Edward’s death, he was in the act of…” Your voice broke as even now tears came to your eyes at the horror and violence of the moment came flooding back to your mind. “He was in the act...of raping me and he had….he had a heart attack and died. It was so horrific. I had Jane help me strike it from the record. So just by that alone, it’s corrupted and it’s been tampered with. It won’t hold up in court.” You confessed lowly as your big gold eyes welled with tears.

“Just that admittance alone is enough to justify why that isn’t in the record, the judge will allow it and allow the rest of it to stand on its own and it will be taken as gospel and if there is anything else that you would like to keep from it to preserve your own integrity and dignity. That will be allowed as well. You are a lady after all. Not everyone needs to see every little thing, this investigation is to expose the Morrigans, not you.” Gregori reassured you.

“But what about Jane and little Eddie?” You asked.

“It is clear that you wish to protect them, that is truly amiable despite their parent’s treatment of you. I believe your brother Ocearian can save Jane from the shame of what her parents have done. She is, as you say, innocent. Ocearian I’m sure will happily take Jane home to Dorierra and with her- little Edward.”

“What if I want Jane to have her fair share of her family’s wealth? I don’t want to leave her or her brother with nothing and no choice but to flee to Dorierra. What if they wish to stay here in England. Could I at least leave Broadcove to Jane and Edward?” You asked.

“If that is your wish. Of course, it will be all available to you do as you wish with it.” Gregori agreed.

“Do you need my answer now, or can I think it over?” You asked him.

“Think on it as long as you need to, no rash decisions need to be made today.” Gregori reassured you gently which you greatly appreciated.

“Then do you have a piece of paper?” You asked him before he produced a small notebook and a small pencil.

“This is the password to most of it, it should give everyone all they need for the court case.” You said.

“Excellent, I shall get my best men on this, you will get justice and your just rewards for your pain and suffering, I swear and promise you.” Gregori grinned victoriously as he kissed your temple the same way his own daughter before he left again and you returned to the others.

“What was that about?” Axal asked you.

“Gregori asked for one of the keys to my ace. I gave a small one to him.” You hinted as you dabbed at your eyes as you steeled yourself for what was to come, both in the battle and in the court case afterwards.

“So you’re going through with the court case? What about your precious peace?” Axal asked.

“I’ve had a year of it. After this court case, I’ll have a lifetime of it.” You said as you got your wooden weapons redipped in your preferred paint.

“But what was his price for it?” Axal asked.

“That IF Ramsey and I were to ever get married, that I would consider adopting his illegitimate heirs and share Ramsey with you, whereas you would get to live with me and “protect” me from further abuse here. I didn’t give an answer one way or another and all I told him was that I would carefully consider it.” You reassured him before you got into sparring positions with Axal.

“And when Octavia comes, I’m sure she’ll happily comply with those terms as well.” You offered as you blocked his attack and counter attacked with ease. “Just make sure Ramsey knows to put on a good show of being captivated by her and wanting her and only her when she does come so I can get off clean.” You insisted as you dipped and dodged his attack and struck a gut blow with your shorter “dagger” on his middle.

“I will.” Axal reassured you.

“And what will you do with your hundreds of thousands of pounds?” Axal asked.

“Share them with Jane so that she is taken care of as well, hell I’ll even give Octavia a share of it, if it means I don’t have to marry Ramsey and you for that matter so that you can care for Octavia’s lover as your own wife.” You readily offered.

“Because I’m sure Yalin and Gregori only wish to see Ramsey happy, and once they see that I can not make him so and that you and Octavia can in all respects, then that can settle the matter.” You insisted.

“But what about Duke Demsey, won’t he need an heir?” Axal questioned as he used his shoulder to knock you away and off balance before you regained it.

“He does, that is what gives me pause. I do not think his affection for me may outweigh his own obligations and duty to his family. But we are still only friends. He may not wish for anything more from me. There may be another he has his eye on anyway, I will just have to wait and see. For all I know, I’m offending him even now. Proper English ladies do not participate in hunting or fencing or anything like that. It’s unladylike. So the fact that I know swordsmanship may be turning him off of me as we speak, look, even his own sisters sit by the side and only watch and do not participate themselves.” You mused as Axal and yourself finished your own sparring to rest and take a breath of air as you sat in the shade of a nearby tree and watched the others spar as you sat side by side.

“He’s an orc, his orcish heritage means shieldmaidens and warchieftesses are coveted. If anything I think you’re turning him onto you now more than any other. You were too focused on sparring with Grandma to notice how he was practically drooling and because of that, he was the first to insist that he dress in fencing attire to properly take part in all of this. He’s a decent swordsman, but that is all he is. He has no other skills, at least any that I can see.” Axal mused as he watched Demsey and Sierge fence each other in the very English style.

“In this society, he doesn’t need any other skills besides those, and even though they have that past, clearly they don’t embrace it in the present.” You shrugged as you again nodded over to where Amara, Kiera and little Callie watched on.

“Do you like English society?” Axal asked.

“It has its quirks and moments, rules of etiquette are extensive and date back to the medieval period for most of it and they like to pride themselves for having “polite, civilized and polished society”. But with industrialization, their business practices can be barbaric and ruthless, some men make or lose their fortunes in weeks or months, bask in the sunlight one moment or be shattered on the rocks the next with the tides. There are terms like “old money” and “new money”. The Morrigans have the old noble heritage even though most of their wealth has been amassed fairly recently, just in the last two generations. But the Morrigans are considered “old money” and the Voyambi’s are considered “new money” only because they’ve had their noble title and wealth within the last three generations. Their classed society makes movement restricted and women are property of their fathers then their husbands and I’ve seen women in this society choose peace over their dignity because while they are expected to be at home and run the home, their husbands are expected to bring income yet can splurge most of that income into gambling or whores or misstresses of plenty, even Richard has several whores, his favorite lives in Broadcove and his little bastards are being trained as stable boys and game keepers or gardeners, he keeps her to her appartment of rooms like a parrot to it's cage and his illegitamate daughters are being brought up to be ladies maids in the house in fact my first paid companion was his eldest illegetimate daughter came with me to Mirador as my own maid because I felt sorry for the way Agnes always treated her, in fact most of Richard's bastards followed me to Mirador because I treated them like people. Who had no power over who their father was. It is wholly barbaric in of itself. But because that is the norm, it makes competition to find a gentlemen in both name, status and breeding important, but of character- with how polite society and it’s customs dictate, it’s a gamble and true happiness in marriage is a chance. Not a given,. And what a man may be like in public may not be the same kind of man in private. Yalin and Gregori seem to be the exception, not the rule.” You admitted as Axal blinked in surprise at your revelation.

“Do you think you’d be happy with Demsey though?” Axal pressed.

“I honestly don’t know, we get along and we are friends and we have moments where possibilities threaten to ignite but something keeps it from actually doing so. I tried feeling him out last night to see if he would be open to anything and he...he was withdrawn and wouldn’t...he would not make himself available in spirit, he was...he was closed off to me, even with drink in hand, I could feel it in his energy, he was missing someone. He really had to push himself to stay with me mentally- in the moment. Which makes me think that there might be someone else that has caught his mind and heart, who is not Kate Whitesale, or me. But someone else, someone in the past. Maybe one of his workers, maybe one of his secretaries, maybe his favorite maid at Whydah. But polite society means I can not ask him about any of it or even his sisters who would be offended at me implying anything by asking while being none the wiser and completely unaware of their brother’s private lives and are purposefully kept in the dark about almost all of it." You sighed in defeat as Axal just stared in bittersweet fondness at you.

"And who am I to demand answers to such questions from him? He has made no declaration of intent towards me other than friendship. He has only stated that he wishes to be my friend. That is all he has said. And that is all his actions have said as well, at least so far. And I have no choice but to take him at his word. But the longer Demsey and his brothers participate but his sisters do not, makes me think that the same applies even in their family, even with them being orcs, notorious the world over for their proficiency and fierceness in battle even evenly among the sexes, which again leads to be believe that I offend him in the knowledge that I can fend for myself physically.” You confessed lowly to Axal before Demsey approached.

“You fence well Demsey.” You praised as you noticed he was drenched in sweat already and smelled wholly delicious as the very inappropriate thought of licking some of that sweat off of him popped into your head before you tried to swish it away mentally as you damned your own body for it's natural physical reaction to him.

“Thank you, I didn’t know if you had noticed, I know my skill can hardly compete with your own.” He praised which surprised you.

“Well you could always spar with her. See for yourself.” Axal suggested as you turned and looked at Axal incredulously.

“I would be honored.” Demsey readily agreed.

“Are you sure?” You asked Demsey.

“Yes, I’m sure I could learn several, if not dozens or even hundreds of things from you, if you would be willing to teach me.” Demsey insisted as you blinked in surprise as your jaw fell, leaving your mouth just slightly agape, just a little as your mouth ran dry as your brain once again was eager to supply all of the things you’d like to teach him, like making love to you right for starters, before Axal practically pushed you towards Demsey who offered his hand to you to help you up off the ground before you took his hand and let him help you to your feet.

“You would not feel emasculated or embarrassed if I bested you?” You asked. “I do not wish to embarrass you, especially in front of your family or mine.” You whispered to him as you walked with him back to the group.

“Not at all. You are granddaughter to the Great Saharan Viper, and her most prized pupil, how could I possibly be embarrassed to lose to such a champion?” He flattered you as you blushed and smiled bashfully and had the ground had the slightest bit of unevenness, you probably would have tripped and fallen straight onto your face.

“But my skills are rusty, I have not held a sword in two years. I may have forgotten most of it.” You tried to excuse.

“Audra, you will not hurt my pride, do not disparage yourself. I was watching you, you have retained more skill than I think you give yourself credit for. It’s like riding a horse, once you learn, you never fully forget and the style is most intriguing to say the least, so what color should my weapons be dipped in?” He encouraged you as he stood with you in front of the other buckets of bright color paints.

“Whichever strikes your fancy, and whichever you like best.” You shrugged before he chose a wonderful purple color that was a nice contrast to your own turquoise.

“Are you sure you want to try this? The rules of komoba are wholly different from the fencing you are used to. Because all those rules that fencing prides itself on- get thrown out and no longer apply, the object is to strike down your opponent by any means necessary, using everything you have to your own advantage and what can get you disqualified in fencing get you a win in komoba.” You gently warned him.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, komoba is...everything a proper fighting sport should be, realistic with real battlefield applications, fencing is pointless on a real battlefield.” Demsey reassured you and once again those butterflies started fluttering in your stomach as your heart fluttered delightfully as your smile turned bashful once again and your cheeks flushed beautifully. It seemed Demsey’s own reserve the night before- had seemed to vanish now as a new boldness seemed to take hold of him and you adored it.

“Then why don’t you use the battle axes that orcs are supposed to be so fond of?” You questioned only to see him falter slightly.

“Um, well, I’ve...never had an opportunity or reason to wield one before. My grandfather’s from the war- they along with his armor hang on the wall, and the late king gifted my grandfather a golden enamelled set but they are strictly decorative.” He revealed.

“So...you have no experience with any other weapons besides the swords of the fencing variety?” You asked him.

“Not even broadswords or longswords or…” You asked him in confusion as Demsey’s shoulders sagged in shame as his head dropped a bit as he had to shake his head no.

“No, the commoner orcs still practice such things in the clan halls and of course soldiers do. But since my family and others who are in the gentry, we do not partake in such things and take pains to distance ourselves from such things for fear of others in the gentry to view us as “barbaric” too.” Demsey confessed lowly.

“But do you think such things are barbaric?” You asked worriedly because if Demsey thought komoba was “barbaric” you were going to force yourself to lose interest in him because you were sick of having to divorce yourself from your own moura heritage, you had done it enough with the Morrigans, never again would you do it, you had sworn yourself an oath.

“No. I think it’s part of our history that we should be proud of. In fact I insisted that Whydah have a proper gymnasium to take up the practices again, granted in private because to do so publicly would damage our reputation.” Demsey tried to explain as his cheeks flushed into a deep pine green.

“But komoba is by far the most elevated form of fighting in the world. And it’s a sport I wish I had much more experience with and I wish I could build a proper komoba battle ground at Whydah so that we could take up the sport there too.” Demsey offered, trying his best to not to sound as hypocritical as he felt.

“Well, I’m biased but I feel the same way, that komoba is the best form of fighting however I can understand the need to protect one’s reputation. The Morrigans forbade me from holding any kind of weapon, often instructing the chefs to serve my dinner to me precut so that I would not wield so much as a dinner knife because they thought my komoba training was unladylike and uncouth and would tarnish the Morrigan name and wished to divorce me from it and any other parts of my moura heritage that didn’t fit the more proper “English” lifestyle.” You explained.

“And such measures are an egregious sin, no one should be so divorced from their own heritage, especially when such a heritage is so rich in tradition and color and splendor.” Demsey tried to praise as you just shook your head because clearly Demsey had done the same to himself and his own heritage.

“So, obviously, you clearly resent their efforts in thus.” Demsey realized from your tone since it had sounded pretty resentful to him which gave him hope that he could seperate himself in your mind and make himself as appealing as possible because he wanted to accept you and your heritage with open arms.

“I do. Which is why I’m surprised you asked to spar with me.” You noted.

“Why?” He asked curiously.

“Because while you are eager to learn the komoba style from me, I see that your sisters sit on the side lines, watching with eager eyes and jealousy to watch Benny and Calla and their siblings as well as myself and my own siblings of both genders take part in the komoba training. And it makes me wonder if you or your parents would be taking the same stance with them learning it as well. Orcs are known to have shield maidens and warcheiftesses do they not? Or does your family also wish to distance itself from that history in order to embrace the more proper “English” ways? Especially in it's womenfolk?” You questioned as Demsy looked at you in shock yet realization as he looked from you to his sisters and back to you again as once again, shame and embarrassment began to eat at him.

“Audra, please, please forgive me, I didn’t even think...or consider...any of that. If you will excuse me for just a moment, I need to rectify this, immediately.” Demsey realized as he put his weapons down in the grass and immediately left and went over to his sisters who were sitting under a canopy to protect them from the morning sun.

“What’s wrong? I thought you looked to be just about to get your wish and get a chance to spar with Audra?” Amara asked curiously.

“I was...until she brought it to my attention of how unfair it is that Sierge, Tzane and I are trying to partake and participate but that you and Kiera and Callie are being excluded and it isn’t right. You all should feel just as welcome and just as included to participate in this as we are.” Demsey insisted to his eldest sister.

“Thank you! Finally!” Kiera exclaimed exasperated before she got up and went over to Benny and asked if Benny had an extra set of komoba clothes as Amara smiled happily and did the same with Calla as Callie bravely went up to you as you readily agreed to let her borrow your own spares as all of you re-entered the castle to get redressed just as the Duke and Duchess Voyambi left the palace to join everyone in the gardens as Yalin also emerged wearing her own day komoba battle clothes from her youth, although she did have to be squeezed and cinched into them because her body had changed a fair bit since her youth.

“So where are you ladies off to?” Yalin asked.

“Oh the Voyambi ladies wish to also try to learn komoba with us, we were going to be lending them our spare day clothes for it.” You readily offered as the Duke and Duchess were surprisingly pleasant with the news.

“Oh of course. With such masters of the sport here, it would be a shame to not take advantage of such an opportunity.” Duke Voyambi reassured his daughters who practically squealed in delight.

“Thank you Papa,” they thanked their father with a kiss to his cheek before you all eagerly went back to your room to change.

“Thank you for saying something to Demsey.” Kiera thanked you as you finished with Callie’s suit and then turned your attention to Amara.

“You’re welcome. Whenever I see injustice and unfairness, if I can equalize it, I like to try.” You answered her.

“Women in English society are restricted enough just in the wearing of our corsets and being “polite” in society, especially on the train to gentlemen who feel entitled to converse with you and invade your space. No need for much more than that is there?” You giggled as you laced up the covers over Amara’s forearms.

“No truer words have ever been spoken. That’s why we never go anywhere without our brothers for that very reason.” Amara confessed.

“So in Dorierra, how young are you when you first learn komoba?” Callie asked.

“Three. As soon as we learn to walk and don’t fall over just trying to walk from one end of the house to the other as young toddlers do.” You answered her.

“Three?! That’s when orcs of old used to learn to fight too!” Callie offered.

“Speaking of, have any of you ever learned any of the old ways?” You asked them as Kiera, Amara and Callie all shook their heads no.

“No, once grandfather got the Duchy, he forbade our father from ever learning any of the old ways. Because the gentry turned their noses up at us and the other orcs, trolls and the like who had gotten into the nobility at the same time were our only society. But at the same time, the common orcs who fought side by side with him in the war, would not socialize with us either, thinking that because we had the duchy, that we were too good for the likes of them. And they wouldn’t even let us go to the clan halls, thinking that we would take them over with just our nobility instead of honoring the old ways of tradition. They would allow father and grandfather into the fencing houses but as soon as they would enter, the other patrons would quickly leave. It wasn’t until Demsey and Sierge were born and were brought to the fencing places that others found that they had no skills whatsoever, and would lose almost every match that they accepted Demsey and Sierge and then Tzane until they got to be proficient. But the moment any of them use their full strength, they get disqualified for “overpowering” their opponents. It pushes them to walk almost impossibly fine lines and it’s only when Demsey championed for the unions that we got welcomed back into the clan halls again, but only for meetings to discuss clan affairs, never for the fighting or anything like that.” Amara explained.

“Oooh, that, that explains it then. I know what that is like. The Morrigans forbade me from even wielding a dinner knife, much less any other kind of weapon. Because they didn’t want any parts of my moura heritage to tarnish their Morrigan name and proper English sensibilities. And I know what it’s like to divorce yoruself from your own heritage to survive. So your family has my sympathy and empathy in this matter.” You offered before you left the room.

“Yeah, that’s probably why I’ll never settle on English soil then.” Benny confessed to you and Calla as you left the room and locked the door behind you.

“Oh poor Sierge, he’ll be so heartbroken to hear that.” You cooed to her sarcastically which got her to snort a laugh.

“When I had said something to Sierge about how it wasn’t fair for him to participate but his sisters were simply watching, he insisted that proper English ladies never should be allowed to participate, and no lady worth her honor in English society would even want to because it should serve as a distinction between the sexes’.” Benny confessed which made you and Calla gasp.

“But yet one word from you and Demsey had the opposite reaction.” Calla realized.

“What I’m curious about is, how you responded to Sierge’s comment.” You put to Benny since the Voyambi sisters had practically jogged down the hallway to get to the courtyard as quickly as possible.

“He couldn’t say much around the mouthful of golden yellow paint I put in his mouth with the short dagger stick before I put him into the ground so hard all the air got knocked out of his lungs, I think he’s probably still throwing up from having swallowed so much paint.” Benny proudly beamed which got you and Calla to bust up laughing.

“Put him in his place, I like it.” You offered with a mischievous smile.

“If he thought that way about proper English ladies, what did he think of us then?” Calla asked Benny.

“Oh he thought we were the exception because we were moura and would continue to be the exception because of it.” Benny answered.

“Double standards at it best I suppose.” Calla sighed tiredly.

“Well then let’s not waste this opportunity to show off how truly amazing mouras can be.” You insisted.

Meanwhile Bellfast, the Mage came to the Palace of Windsor to see Gregori personally, as he watched from a safe distance to see you and the other moura’s leave the palace for the gardens.

“Ah, Bellfast, my good fellow, Lady Audravienne has given me the password to the scene catchers.” Gregori happily said as he showed Bellfast the password.

“Yes, I already have divined it and the second and the third.” Bellfast reported with a meaningful look to Gregori before Gregori quickly led the way to a private office.

“And?” Gregori prompted.

“You need to see this.” Bellfast insisted as Gregori had ushered Ballfast into a private office as Bellfast cast the moment of Edward’s death onto a small mirror in the office as Gregori watched on intently. Frowning in disgust at the scene before a loud crash boomed through the room and Gregori gasped as his eyes went wide as he covered his mouth with his own hand and watched as the scene unfolded before Gregori’s own servants knocked on the door to make sure he was alight and safe which Gregori quickly reassured them and ordered them to leave immediately and to not say a word of the sound to anyone or they would be whipped and then dismissed immediately.

“Who else has seen this?” Gregori demanded of Bellfast.

“Only you, myself, Audravienne- because she lived through it, and Miss Jane Morrigan who came up with the third password to help Audravienne destroy it. It was completely struck from all the records so that even the sound of the crash was gone, the Morrigans were out to dinner and little Edward was asleep, but even the other servants heard it down into the basements. But Jane bribed them to keep quiet about it and old Edward’s doctor simply said he died of a heart attack and the bed was quickly set to be burned and was ash by the time the Morrigans got home. I can recreate the bed if need be.” Bellfast offered.

“No need right now. Do not let on that you know of any of this. I have my own uses for this. For now, only use the first password that Lady Audravienne has provided and compile all you can in a case against the Morrigans for time’s sake and make the second and the third passwords appear invisible and all that they contain inaccessable for now and do not use anything that is protected behind those other two. String everything else together in such a way that the poisoning of Edward is hung on the Count and Countess Morrigan so that they could fully inherit the estate sooner but make it so that it looks like they are framing Audra for it, which they clearly feel she did, and obviously their poisoning of Audra and all abuses to her by them and by the old Edward, I want any judge and jury to find Audra as innocent as the white dove she is and will continue to be and appear so, but also, if Lady Audravienne will not cooperate further, do your best to hang the Wolf Eye on her and obviously the murder.” Gregori instructed.

“That won’t be difficult to do. Also I have recreated all of Lady Audravienne’s mail and all four postmen are currently in prison and their confessions are on the record, as are all the servants who were involved in Lady Audravienne’s poisoning. But all the others who were involved with covering up Edward’s true cause of death are still free and Lady Audravienne's servants at Mirador that followed her from Broadcove are most intriguing." Bellfast said as he handed the latest report to Gregori who took it and read it over, almost giggling in his chuckle as he read it over.

"The Morrigans are of course panicked but claim they have the proof of the Wolf Eye coming from Audra, which other than coercing their own remaining servants to say so, the scene catchers clearly contradict which means we can pin insanity onto them and Dr. Rickets is simply awaiting instruction and of course is eager to say either way in order to keep his liscence to continue to practice his medicine, he claims he did something to the mourkatili to make it less lethal and less damaging to Lady Audravienne's person, claiming to the Morrigans that such measures were to "intensify" it's effect but in all actuallity it was only to protect your interests and claims that he can cure Lady Audravienne so that she can bear heirs without any ill effects and reverse the mourkatili, even at such a dose as was given to her.” Bellfast offered.

“Excellent.” Gregori beamed proudly. “How much is owed to you for such services?” Gregori asked as he went into his own box of funds in the room.

“Oh, for now my bill is with the Morrigans, but I will still happily take my agreed payment from you, however when Lady Audravienne wins her case, I’ll ask for a tip from her in her preference.” Bellfast began to chuckle darkly which Gregori soon mirrored as Gregori handed over a thousand pounds in a stack of bills.

“Yes, she will. I can’t wait to see what she is truly capable of. For now though she is hesitant and weary, let us win her trust and confidence first and only if she becomes uncooperative, then we can use this as leverage, but otherwise she has been a dream to work with and responds best with a gentle guiding hand and kindness, which considering the abuse- is no wonder to anyone. Yes, tender loving care will be all that is needed to pacify her and keep her happy and content. After the komoba battle, every moura instinct in her will be truly awakened and she will come to all of her senses that the Morrigans tried to dull. Oh and if I may request one more favor, just incase Dr. Rickets can not provide what he has offered, find the best mourkatili antidote you can with the added benefit that Lady Audravienne’s womb will be restored to her and her full health that she enjoyed when she left from Dorierra, just in case Dr. Rickets is not to be trusted.” Gregori requested before Bellfast simply took a very fancy glass bottle, wrapped in silk cloth to keep it safe, out of his coat pocket and unwrapped it before he put it on the desk in front of Gregori with a smug grin before handing over the silk itself.

“Only have her drink it after the court case, for now the mourkatili will still show up in her hair under blacklight, since it will purple, if it is still strong within her, it will also show up in her eyes under black light as well.” Bellfast instructed.

“Excellent.” Gregori beamed before he took it and rewrapped it and put it into his own pocket.

“Good work Bellfast, as always, you are the best Mage in all of Europa and I’m so happy that you answered my invitation.” Gregori praised him.

“Thank you for the invitation in the first place. I will happily use these funds to further my own research.” Bellfast grinned as he took his payment and tucked it away into the pocket the antidote had previously been put into before Gregori saw his guest out before he called his servants over.

"Do not let the Dauphine or anyone else know that the Mage Bellfast was here today, this report was sent by a messenger and there was no sound of a crash in the study, was there?" Gregori practically snarled at his servants who nodded yes as their knees had to be locked to keep from knocking together in fear.

"Yes your Grace." They answered obediantly before Gregori smiled victoriously and straightened up and returned to the gardens where your grandmother was now teaching all the Voyambi's, the Duke and Duchess included the basics of Komoba along with Yalin who he took aside and slipped the report into her hands.

"Just delivered just now from the Mage from a messenger." Gregori told his wife as she read it as her eyes got as large as saucers.

"Oh my, this is the scandal of the century." Yalin had to admit.

"And I can't wait to read all about it in the gossip collumns when the matter is brought up in court." Gregori incited with a scheming smile to his wife that she was powerless to resist from mirroring.

"Yes it will." She agreed before she got back into the grid to finish her own refresher course in kamoba.

[kyaada]

Thanksgorging Done Right

Prepare Get the balance right! Although you’ll need to start on an empty stomach to eat as much as possible, don’t be ravenously hungry.  If you’re starving, you’ll eat too quickly and not properly pace yourself.

Avoid fasting. Follow your regular meal schedule and stop eating five hours before the main event.

Exercising earlier in the day is also a good idea, especially if you’ve eaten a breakfast meal.  Physical activity stimulates the appetite.  Taking a short, brisk walk helps move food through your digestive system and empty out your stomach in preparation.

Finally, it's easier to eat a lot if you're relaxed. So immediately before the meal, take some deep breaths, listen to some pleasant music, think calm thoughts, and avoid anything confrontational or stressful.

Now’s a good time to weigh yourself and measure around your belly.  You’re going to want some data from which to later gauge your success.

Dressing Isn’t Just a Sidedish Choose your Thanksgorging meal outfit with significant expansion in mind.  If you must wear less casual clothing, wear an undershirt under a button-up shirt in case you end up stressing or popping buttons; also, plan similarly if the pants must be dressier.  Check to see if they can be unbuttoned stealthily and your belt has notches left to be loosened. 

Ideally, you’ll be able to wear a stretchy shirt and pants with a lot of give. If your belly typically swells immensely during large extended dinners, consider choosing a shirt that will cover most of your belly for most of the meal.  A tight hem riding up like a curtain can be sexy as it bares a fat spherical curve, but can be potentially distracting to other diners.  Unbuttoning too-tight pants late in a hefty meal is nearly universally expected, especially if the button is ready to pop.

Choose Wisely

Once you’ve girded your loins for the overeating challenge, there’s nothing to do but begin. The choices you make now will determine whether you fill your stomach to maximum capacity, or give up long before dessert.

If you’re a beer drinker, try to avoid beers right off the bat. Instead, have a couple shots of 80+ proof liquor to relax and put yourself at ease.  Skip the mixer, especially if it’s carbonated, as you want to maximize the benefit of the alcohol while minimizing the volume at this point.

If there are appetizers, consider your options carefully. Certain types of food makes you feel more full than others.

An over-full feeling isn’t just caused by a stretched-to-capacity stomach. Your body also triggers feelings of fullness by releasing hormones and enzymes as you eat. For example, the more you chew, the fuller you will feel. Stick with the mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, country rolls with butter, fluffy fruit salad, and delay the majority of fats and proteins until later.  Gorging on a pile of turkey will make you feel full sooner than the easier-to-stuff carbs. You can do maximal damage with carbs because they layer nicely—you can pack in more without feeling too full.

Once you start eating protein, the secretion of enzymes and hormones starts that satiety cascade, and having fat as part of the meal triggers satiety.   Delay your consumption of fiber-rich foods like veggies and whole grains. They fill you up faster because that fiber soaks up water and takes up more room. Liquids also occupy precious stomach real estate, so don’t consume a large glass of juice or bowl of soup right away. That said, fluids will help food move through your stomach as you eat, so sip some water or other liquids throughout the meal.

Gorge Yourself The human stomach is quite stretchy -- like a big latex balloon. If you cram food and drink into it, it will expand to a maximum volume of up to four liters—the equivalent of two 2-liter bottles of soda. Once you've stuffed your stomach to capacity, the meal is over—right? Absolutely not!

As fast as you put food into it, your stomach processes that content and starts moving it into the intestines. As soon as you feel like you can’t eat another bite, lean back in your chair. Relax. Breathe in slowly through your nostrils and exhale slowly through your mouth.  Let your abdominal muscles loosen and expand to allow your stomach to push out and become as round as possible. Using both hands, rub your belly all over in slow circles, concentrating on your very full stomach.  Try to push out any belches that might be taking up precious room in your filled stomach, using a tapping or thumping technique as though your gut were a drum. If you struggle enough with massaging your bloated belly, someone at the table may offer to help you -- let them have a rub as well for good luck.

Take a Belly Break If you’ve been concentrating on simple carbohydrates, you’re in luck: The stomach can empty itself of low-fiber carbs in a mere 30 to 90 minutes.  At this point, you probably feel bloated; perhaps, a little like a tick about to pop.  You might feel like all you want is to do is curl up on the sofa, holding your stomach, and groaning. Fight that instinct and get to your feet. Part of the digestion of food is movement. If you take yourself from a sitting to a standing position, you’re going to move food more quickly and feel less uncomfortable sooner than if you just sit down. After all, you just worked hard on that belly -- it’s time to show it off! Take the pop walk slowly around the dining room, into the living room, around wherever there may be an appreciative audience.  Stop by a full-length mirror and take a lengthy look at your fullness.  The nerves around your stomach are the ones that complain to the brain about how full you are. Once your body pushes that food from your stomach into your intestines, the uncomfortably full feeling should ease up. Adding liquid will also speed up this process. Drinking will help to move things down -- instead of everything sitting there going nowhere like a traffic jam.  Go for Bust Now, get back to that table and eat. Luckily, you don’t have to wait for your stomach to empty out entirely before you go back to the buffet. Even a little reduction in food volume can help. Give yourself fifteen minutes to a half an hour to recover, and you’ll find that you’re ready to pack in more chow. Just remember that less chewing means you’ll be able to get in a larger volume of food into your stomach.  Protein like turkey sticks to your ribs for much longer: it will take closer to four hours to pass through your stomach, and no one wants to wait that long to begin eating desserts.

Keep eating. Remember to lean back, spread your thighs apart, whatever it takes to give your burgeoning belly enough space to swell. It’s during this part of Thanksgorging where you hope you’ve chosen your clothes wisely.  If all has gone according to plan, the stretchy materials should be reaching their limit around your bulging midsection, and you’ll want to consider unbuttoning that pants button (if there is one).  Concerned onlookers may begin to make comments about the size of your belly, others may poke you in the stomach to see if there is any give, and the feeders in the group will be encouraging you to pack in another plateful.

Getting Fed If someone at the table wants to feed you on top of your already stretched-to-the-very-limit belly, then take a belly break before they break your belly. Get your fattened self up and do your best to wobble about for at least fifteen minutes if you left the table at the point where swallowing a whole mouthful of food became a time-consuming process. Once again, try to avoid laying down for any length of time, especially on the floor and on your back as you’ll be extremely vulnerable to being popped by those who could trip and fall onto your overstuffed belly.  Do not bounce anything heavy on top of an overfull stomach as it may burst from the compression.

Once back at the table, determine the safe word to be used so that the feeder knows when to stop stuffing you, then allow the feeder to shovel food into your mouth at your mutual pleasure. Choices such as “pop”, “burst”, “explode” are not recommended.  Use something like “diet” to communicate that the belly has attained maximum safe stretch and cannot accommodate the slightest bit more filling. 

Top it Off in Grand Style Wait one half hour after you’ve last shoveled dinner food in and then drink a small glass of warm water (at least room temperature and definitely not cold).  Slightly warm water helps break down food in the stomach and aids digestion. Now, begin the dessert stage of the meal.  Glucose (sugar) stimulates the relaxation reflex, and pressure on the stomach will be decreased, reducing the sensation of fullness.  A sweet dessert will allow the stomach to make room for more food, and you’ll be able to tackle several slices of your favorite pies.  Remember, they’re only good when they’re fresh, and you’ve earned rewarding yourself with as much pie as will fit in your stomach. Measure and Weigh At this point, you should find a scale and a tape measure to record the meal’s highlights.  After all, you need to know what goals you’re going to set for Christmas.

[thomasxsides]

Snake-Imposed Self-Care

Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: Thomceit Words: 2,425 Rating: M for Mature/X for Explicit/A for Adult (only read if you’re 18+) Warnings: reptile anatomy, smut Characters: Character!Thomas, Janus Sanders Additional Tags: fluff, “self-care” and by that I mean Janus is the one taking care of c!Thomas, handjobs, mutual (?) handjobs, Janus teaches Thomas how to touch him, thigh worship A/N: This is based on prompts sent to me by @theprincey​ and an Anon. I decided to combine the two (pictured) into one story. Enjoy :) Also, Janus’ lies are shown in bold. Please remember, reblogs get a lot farther than likes so if you really like my work, consider reblogging. Thank you! Feel free to send me a Thomas X Sides prompt! (only send NSFW if you’re 18+) 

Working out obviously had its benefits, but Thomas was regretting it as he had apparently pulled a muscle in his shoulders. Or maybe it was the way he sat for hours at a time working on editing, but he’d rather blame the exercise than the job he loved so much. His eyes were on the TV- Parks and Recreation, again- but his mind was on the pain as he tried to contort his arms like a pretzel to massage away the pain and he was struggling with it, gradually getting more and more frustrated.  Cue Janus. The half-reptile Side appeared at Thomas’ side, startling him. “Oh. Hi, Janus.”  “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” “At this point, I’m afraid to ask.”  Janus rolled his eyes a little to himself. “Thomas, you’re in pain. In a way that suggests you’re not taking proper care of yourself. You once knew me as ‘Deceit’, but I happen to also be your sense of self-preservation. Things like this are my responsibility.”  Thomas huffed softly. “Sure, I get that. I’m trying to take care of myself. But it’s my shoulder that’s bothering me and I can’t seem to--”  “You need a shoulder massage. Well, I can help.” Thomas turned to properly look at Janus finally. “You... you’ll do that for me?”

“Of course. Thomas, it’s... it’s just my job, I don’t care about you at all outside of that. As my host.” 

Nodding softly, Thomas turned his back to Janus a little. “Okay. Thank you, Janus.”  Janus hummed softly as if to nonverbally say ‘Don’t mention it’ and he moved in nearer to Thomas, closing his eyes briefly as he took in the inviting heat radiating from Thomas’ body. He placed his hands on Thomas’ shoulders and hesitated a moment before withdrawing his hands; he carefully, hesitantly removed his gloves and leaned over, placing them neatly on the coffee table out of the way. Thomas noticed but he said nothing, fearing making Janus self-conscious or insecure about it, but it makes his heart flip. 

Taking a breath at this new state of vulnerability, Janus put his hands on Thomas’ shoulders again, starting with a gentle pressure and being rewarded with a soft hum. He kept up this way for a moment before pressing into the muscles a bit more firmly, working them loose with dedication and care.  Thomas groaned quietly at the relief it brought. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone did this for him and Janus was particularly good at it.  With Thomas distracted and facing away from him, Janus let out another pair of arms to work on the rest of Thomas’ back, working deep into the muscles and loosening knots, releasing tension. Thomas noticed there seemed to be more than two hands touching him, but he felt so wonderful that he couldn’t bring himself to be repulsed or even really care. He closed his eyes and let Janus do what he’d offered to do, relaxing and groaning softly at Janus’ touch.  An innocent shoulder rub, maybe, but the sounds Thomas was making, even as soft as they were, caused Janus’ mind to wander a bit to the other ways he could take care of Thomas, relieve him, soothe his stressed and tense body and mind... It was only when he noticed that he was, in fact, erect that he withdrew his hands from Thomas’ body and moved away a bit, clearing his throat and putting his gloves back on as he returned to a two-armed form. “Well, then, Thomas... That should do it. I’ll be going then.”  A soft, warm hand wrapped around Janus’ own, still ungloved, and the Side turned to give his host a puzzled look. “Thank you, Janus... I appreciate you always taking care of me. You don’t... have to go if you don’t want to.” The air between them seemed to buzz silently with a warmth Janus was... not unfamiliar with, but unused to. Silent, save for the sounds of their breathing, though Janus wondered if the beat he heard was Thomas’ heart or his own. Loud, heavy, persistent, quickening by the passing second. Janus wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but they were pressed together, sealed by their lips and Thomas tasted of watermelon Jolly Rancher and strawberry lip balm, too sweet and not sweet enough at the same time. Addicting, comforting, enticing.  Together, they moved both too quickly and too slowly. A bowler hat and capelet landed on the floor, joining a pair of patent leather shoes and yellow gloves. Thomas made patient, steady work of the closures on Janus’ shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. It was Janus’ instinct to recoil, to hide, but when Thomas appeared unafraid and instead delicately ran his fingers over the scales on the left side of Janus’ body, Janus sighed, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  Seeming to have noticed Janus’ unspoken insecurity, Thomas captured his lips again gently as if in reassurance, making Janus melt. When they parted from their kiss again, Janus carefully, and with Thomas’ silent encouragement, pulled the T-shirt he was wearing up over his head and pressed slow kisses to Thomas’ soft, smooth, warm skin, moving down his beautiful neck and across his collarbone.  Thomas was receptive to Janus’ attention, making the sweetest sounds, encouraging the Side and running gentle fingers through his hair, down the scaly half of his back. Janus pulled away almost reluctantly. “May I touch you,” he asked, not wanting to go any further without Thomas’ explicit consent.  “God, Janus, yes please...”  Janus smirked a little, his eyes brighter than usual, as he opened the button and drew down the zipper of Thomas’ jeans, working them off his hips and thighs as if unwrapping a present. And it was, in a way, a gift: this intimacy, this trust, this affection; just the two of them and no one else. Just a Side and his gorgeous, generous, warm Host.  Thomas leaned back against the arm of the old sofa that so often seemed so uncomfortable and yet now was the most comfortable place in the world. He spread his legs and the sound that left Janus- desperate and awed- made him laugh softly. Hands- one of them scaled- caressed the outsides of Thomas’ thighs as softly trembling lips pressed reverent kisses of adoration to the insides. A forked tongue made an occasional appearance to taste the warm flesh of the human’s thighs; teeth grazed and sank in gently and love bites began blooming over the pale skin, leaving barely an inch untouched, unappreciated.  Neither of them had any idea how long Janus’ brazen worship of Thomas’ thighs had gone on, but it left Thomas squirming. Unwilling to let Thomas go another moment uncared for, Janus finally sat up and curled his fingers in the elastic waistband of Thomas’ boxers, pulling them down and off, discarding them on the floor with the rest of their garments. Thomas flushed as he was fully exposed, his cock hard and pink, twitching occasionally with need and throbbing in time with his elevated pulse.  “I’m going to take care of you, Thomas,” Janus promised. With a snap of fingers, a bottle of lubricant appeared in Janus’ left hand and he poured a small amount into the palm of his right hand, setting the bottle on the coffee table. He was left handed, but he felt Thomas would be more comfortable being touched with flesh than scales. He wrapped his hand around Thomas’ cock and began slowly, gently stroking him, finding a good pace and establishing a rhythm. Thomas’ head fell back against the arm of the couch and he moaned softly, but encouragingly. The sound ignited Janus’ own blood, but he remained patient. Thomas was his priority. He gave a slow, experimental twist of his wrist and Thomas’ cried out in unmistakable pleasure.  Soon, Janus had sped up and established a rhythm that had Thomas’ moaning and his breath hitching as his thighs tremored with euphoria. He moved steadily and quickly from head to base and back again, twisting his wrist on occasion, enjoying how much that made Thomas gasp.  “Ja-Janus... I’m... I’m close, I’m gonna...”  “Shh. I’ve got you. I’m taking care of you. Let yourself go for me, Thomas.”  And let go he did. Thomas went slack against the sofa, moaning out almost constantly between panting breaths. Janus watched with delight as his face flushed bright red and the muscles in his stomach and thighs tensed just before he came, arching slightly off the couch cushions, toes curling as he moaned loudly, unrestrained. “Janus... oh! Oh... ffffuck... Janus...” Thomas’ hands clenched into fists and relaxed again and he pushed his fingers into his own hair, unsure what else to do with them as the waves of his orgasm continued to pulsate through his body. His moans finally quietened as his orgasm began to subside and Janus finally stopped stroking him, not wanting to push him too far into overstimulation.  Slowly, Thomas opened his eyes to stare up at his ceiling, his mind whirling and his heart racing, pounding heavily against his ribs as he tried to catch his breath. Janus smirked to himself as he cleaned off his hand and gently, carefully cleaned Thomas’ stomach, cock, and thighs. “Can I touch you now?”  The question caught Janus off guard. “What?”  Thomas sat up and looked at Janus, repeating his question: “May I touch you? I... I want to return the favor.” “Well, Thomas, I was supposed to be taking care of you. Self-care, you know.” “I know, but... I *want* to.”  “I...” Janus sighed. “Okay, but... there’s something you need to know.” He didn’t see a way around this. He could either tell Thomas and prepare the man, or Thomas could be unpleasantly surprised. Either way, it was likely to frighten him off. And this way was easier to accept rejection. He took a deep breath. “My anatomy is... not... average.”  Thomas neither moved nor spoke.  “You see, because I am half snake, I have... a... ‘hemipenis’. It is not scaled. It’s made of flesh, same as yours, but... it looks...” Janus ran a hand through his hair, huffing in frustration at his own nervousness. “It looks like I have two. They are... identical. They sh-share a... base and... an internal... system, though I do still have external testicles. They are... well, for lack of better description, they are side by side. I just... didn’t want to scare you off.”  “Oh.” Thomas took a second to process this information, not sure what he should have expected. This felt a little like a paper bag marked Dead Dove, Do Not Eat that contained an actual dead dove. Janus was half snake. Of course he would be different. “Okay,” he said at last.  “Okay?” Thomas nodded. “I think you might have to teach me how to touch you, but I still want to, Janus.”  A little blown away, Janus nodded and leaned in for another kiss. Thomas cupped both sides of his head gently and held him there a moment longer before they parted again. Janus removed his own slacks and underwear, revealing his hemipenis. The scales on the left side of his body continued down to his toes, but just as he’d said, his cocks and testicles showed no sign of ever having had scales. The human half of him was hairless much to Thomas’ surprise, but it wasn’t anything more than surprising, and he’d already been prepared for the surprise.  “Wow,” Thomas whispered. “And you can use both at once?”  “Yes. It feels best that way.” Janus gently took Thomas’ hand, but he didn’t move beyond that. “You still want to touch me?” Thomas licked his lips and nodded once more. “More than anything.”  “Then, I will teach you.” Cautiously, in case he still decided to recoil and retreat, Janus guided Thomas’ hand to his cocks and showed him just how to touch them, stroking first one, then the other. He then taught Thomas how to take both of them into one hand with a firm grip and stroke.  At first, Thomas’ touch was barely there, uncertain and insecure much like Janus himself in that moment, but he built confidence and started a rhythm like he’d done this a dozen or so times before. Janus moaned softly and mostly let his hand fall away since it was clear Thomas could handle it on his own. “Yes, Thomas... Mm, that’s it, darling. You’re doing... ooh-- perfectly...” He moved his hand down, touching the delicate folds of skin between his cocks at the base, stroking them and moaning loudly as it increased his pleasure fivefold.  Awed, Thomas couldn’t look away; he watched his own hand moving over Janus’ cocks, aided by a generous amount of leaking precome. He watched Janus touch himself in what was evidently a very sensitive area. It was thrilling to experience something so new, so unheard of, and it caused a shiver to run down his spine.  “Kiss me, Thomas. Please. I long to taste you again.” Without hesitation, Thomas captured Janus’ lips with his own once again, swallowing down his sweet, indulgent moans as he continued stroking his cocks, speeding up steadily. The feeling of Janus’ forked tongue brushing against his lips and then moving into his mouth and gently moving against his tongue made Thomas moan softly. Janus’ free arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close even as he broke the kiss. “I’m very nearly there, Thomas. Please... please don’t stop.”  Thomas continued determinedly, stroking Janus’ cocks firmly and quickly until the Side began to tense and moan louder between gentle gasps for breath. “Oh god, Thomas... Oh--” Janus lifted his hips from the sofa, his eyes rolling back and falling shut as he came hard, making twice as much mess as Thomas as he spilled over Thomas’ hand, his own hand and thighs, and his own stomach. He let out one last moan and shuddered as the final wave of his orgasm passed through him like a tidal wave. Thomas slowed to a stop before gently releasing Janus’ cocks.  Lazy and orgasm-dizzy, Janus waved his hand, making the mess disappear from both of them without a trace and he gave Thomas a sleepy smile. “That was marvelous, darling.” He pulled Thomas in for a soft, sweet kiss. “Thank you for letting me take care of you.”  “Thank you for being willing to be taken care of in return. You’re important to me, Janus. I love you.” 

[mithranqueersmusings]

5 Star Man I

Chapter: 1/3

Rating: E (Smut Warning)

Summary: Dennis has been gone for a long time, Mac misses him dearly and finds himself rooting through his old sex tapes.

Tags: Smut

Pairing: Mac/Dennis

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Mac didn't suppose he'd ever become adjusted to the newfound quietness of their apartment, or his apartment to be more accurate. Dennis leaving out of the blue like that had shocked them all, within a day or two they started to realise that it hadn't been some strange joke or scheme of some kind. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it hit Mac the hardest of all the gang. Their relationship had been complicated to say the least, never truly being defined or talked about properly, and this disappearance hadn't made things any clearer.

It was another solitary night for Mac, debating whether to actually do something productive with his evening or just slide into bed and hope for sleep to come. Most nights he'd just spent exercising, something in his mind wanted to believe that if he got into better shape somehow it would make Dennis come back. After weeks of hearing nothing, and having no way to contact Dennis after he misspelled a digit or two on the phone number he'd given to Mac, it didn't look like his best friend was ever going to return.

He was already fairly drunk, nothing too eventful was happening in the bar ever since Dennis' departure, and his head was beginning to ache. All the medication was always kept in Dennis' bedroom, Mac had questioned this a thousand times but only ever got strange and evasive answers, and even though Dennis was gone he hadn't moved any of his things around. Mac traipsed into Dennis' room, flicking on the light reluctantly and letting out a groan with the new pounding in his head. The main reason Mac thought Dennis was coming back some time soon was that he'd left all of his possessions behind; one or two things wouldn't have been suspicious but he'd left everything. Even some of his most prized possessions: his Steven Winwood CD collection, the RPG Mac had bought him for Valentine's Day and his expansive sex tape collection. The latter was definitely the most confusing, Dennis had spent years upon years creating those tapes and to leave them behind without any thought didn't sit right with Mac at all.

As he trudged over to where Dennis kept the medicine - there was so much in the drawer that Mac had never even heard of before, but he never questioned it - the tape collection caught his eye. He didn't feel like he was intruding, after all he'd sat with Dennis - and Charlie and Frank on occasion - and watched the tapes together, just like every ordinary group of guys do. Popping some pain killers into his mouth and swallowing, the dryness of his throat itched, Mac bent down and started rifling through the tapes. Even in today's world, Dennis still recorded them on VHS (something about the nostalgia of it all, he'd said), each of the title's scribbled in Sharpie alongside a star rating. Dennis took these ratings very seriously, and he rarely ever gave a girl a 5-star rating, as far as Mac knew he hadn't actually ever given one. Perhaps it was the boredom, or the alcohol, or the missing of Dennis that spurred Mac on to search through more of the tapes curiously in search for any that could boast a full rating.

Some of the names sparked memories for Mac, especially since he'd usually be in the apartment when Dennis would bring the girls home. He was careful taking them out of the box and laying them gently onto the floor, after all if Dennis did ever come back he didn't want to risk sending him off again because his tapes had gotten all smashed up. Tape after tape and not a single girl had impressed Dennis enough, which didn't surprise Mac at all, yet he continued to search as though he was somehow still connecting with Dennis through it all.

A countless number of tapes later and Mac considered giving up, he hadn't even gotten through half of them when his eyes suddenly light up; there was one! The excitement this caused Mac wasn't entirely justified, he knew that it was a little strange what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. This feeling shifted dramatically when Mac was able to bring the tape closer to read the name:

Dennis ★★★★★

Mac blinked dumbfounded. Was this some kind of strange coincidence? Surely there were no women in the world named Dennis, although Mac wasn't someone to go around judging the ridiculousness of people's names. But then what was it? Surely Dennis wouldn't have filmed one of just himself, the whole point of the tapes was to look back on his past conquests with pride, but then again he was never the most humble of people. Continuing to stare at it, Mac decided there was only one way to find out and that was to watch it.

The excitement of the whole ordeal was beginning to spread across his body, Mac told himself the erection growing in his pants was merely a side-effect of the alcohol, as he walked over to the VHS player and popped the tape in. Fumbling around for the remote desperately, Mac finally found it and settled down at the front of Dennis' untouched bed before turning the screen on.

Starting up, the video looked the same as all the other tapes with the all-too-familiar angle of the camera positioned towards the bed. Dennis was there, judging by the look of him the tape wasn't actually that old, which surprised Mac somewhat. The lighting in the room was low, a few candles lit around the space to help set a mood. Mac waited for a girl to show up as he heard Dennis saying something he couldn't quite make out, but no girl came into view. Mac shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, his pants were getting increasingly tighter, as he watched Dennis turn around to stare directly into the camera.

"Hello." He said in a low voice, one Mac had heard a thousand times before on these tapes, and even though he knew Dennis wasn't actually talking directly to him, it still felt that way.

Mac gulped as Dennis' fingers moved up to the buttons on his shirt, circling around them loosely before actually undoing them.

"I'm so glad you could join me." Dennis smirked slightly as the checked fabric slid off of his body and onto the floor fluidly "We can finally be alone together."

Mac raised an eyebrow subconsciously, this was only getting more confusing as it went on. Dennis had been known to talk to himself, even referring to himself in the third person sometimes, but making a sex tape of himself for himself was reaching a new level of narcissism, even for him. No matter how strange he thought it was, Mac couldn't deny that was completely enraptured by it and didn't think for even a second about turning it off. He'd seen Dennis naked countless times, but this felt more personal somehow, like it really was for him.

Next Dennis moved to work on his belt, slim fingers loosening the buckle and pulling the leather out until he held both ends in his hands; he gave it a quick pull and winked at the camera before tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Mac felt his mouth drying up as he eagerly watched Dennis' hands slide down to unbutton and unzip his jeans. The denim slid down his skin effortlessly, revealing that he was wearing no boxers underneath.

"You like what you see?" Dennis asked with a low chuckle, standing entirely naked in front of the camera unashamed.

Mac felt compelled to answer, as stupid as he knew that was. His own jeans were getting far too restrictive now, he had to loosen them just to relieve the pressure, that was all. Dennis took a few steps backwards then seated himself on the bed, sitting on his calves in a way which almost made him look delicate. Mac couldn't help his eyes fixating on the way Dennis' hard cock bounced as he adjusted his position. To think that Dennis was doing this on the very bed Mac was sat on now only spurred his excitement further, he idly brushed his thumb over his clothed erection and let out a quiet hiss at the much needed contact.

"God, you're so hard, aren't you?" Dennis' voice got softer as his hand slowly curled around his own erection "I think I can help with that."

"Shit..." Mac unintentionally whispered, Dennis' sultry words going straight to his cock.

"Why don't you take that hand and put it to good use?" Dennis let another quiet laugh, but his eyes were piercing "Just watch me."

Dennis began to follow his own words, slowly pumping his hand up and down his length, letting out a high-pitched moan which caused Mac to flutter his eyes shut. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd made the decision, but he'd hastily pulled out his hard cock and began touching himself too; following Dennis' rhythm closely.

"Feel good?" Dennis asked, his tongue poking out slightly to run across his top lip.

Mac found himself nodding slightly, his head was beyond hazy at this point.

"You look amazing." Dennis spoke in a whisper again as he began quickening his pace, throwing his head back gracefully as moans began to pour of his mouth.

Instantaneously, Mac followed suit and jerked himself faster, he'd awkwardly shuffled his jeans and boxers down to his ankles so that he could spread his legs more freely. His mouth was hanging open, low groans spilling uncontrollably as he watched Dennis slowly become undone. This was far from the first time he'd seen Dennis like this, but something was different this time; rather than watching Dennis dominate some random woman, instead Mac felt like he held the power this time and it was severely messing with his head. Dennis never submitted to anyone, in any situation whatsoever, so it naturally made sense that he'd only be submissive to himself. Mac knew he was never supposed to see this, that he was encroaching on Dennis' privacy, but he'd gone too far now and it felt far too good to stop.

"I feel so empty without you." Dennis moaned, his neck arched as he began thrusting into his hand "Need you to fill me up."

Mac felt himself sobering up as he watched Dennis' idle hand, that had been pressed loosely against his thigh, curl round behind him to pull his cheeks apart. His eyes widened dramatically, this certainly wasn't where he'd been expecting it to go. Mac didn't follow Dennis' actions this time, but he wasn't entirely sure why; after coming out he'd been no stranger to such activities, even though he'd never really done it himself. The sight of Dennis slowly pressing a finger into himself was incredibly mesmerising, Mac almost stopped altogether just to watch him.

"Fuck..." Dennis breathed out heavily, Mac couldn't exactly see what was going on behind him but judging from Dennis' expression he'd forced another finger inside.

Mac's hand grew more erratic and sloppy as he watched Dennis penetrate himself, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to last. Dennis' eyes had been shut tightly for a while now, the raising of his eyebrows and soft sounds falling from his lips was the only indicator of how he was feeling. A third finger was hastily inserted, Mac could only tell because of the pained expression that quickly spread across Dennis' face but it soon melted into bliss as he too started to lose control.

"So big..." Dennis groaned, beginning to ramble "You're so fucking big."

The volume of his own moans shocked Mac, he'd never really allowed himself to come undone so freely in the apartment before through fear that Dennis would hear. Thinking about Dennis not being there distracted from the blissful feeling, Mac tried to shut it out and focus entirely on the display before him, as though Dennis were truly here.

"Getting close..." Dennis gasped, Mac wasn't entirely sure how many fingers he was thrusting inside at this point, his tousled hair sticking to his forehead in places "I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum for you."

Mac was almost over the edge at this point, if this had been any other porno he would've let go long before this but something inside him wanted to wait until Dennis was ready too, so that they could finish together. His wrist was beginning to ache, his lip bleeding where he'd bit into it deeply without even thinking. Dennis snapped his head forwards, his eyes opening once more as he stared deep into the camera with longing eyes.

"Are you ready?" Dennis' voice wavered slightly "I want to you to cum inside... I know you're close too, I can feel your cock throbbing inside me."

Mac was at his breaking point, he'd slowed down ridiculously just to try to stretch himself a little bit further but he could feel the wave of pleasure beginning to wash over him. Before he closed his eyes, he savoured the image of Dennis so wrecked and desperate, throwing his own head back as he managed to catch Dennis' final words.

"I'm gonna fucking cum!" Dennis almost shrieked "Cum inside me, please. Give me your cum, Mac."

Before he could even fully register what had been said, Mac was already too far gone as he felt himself stuttering and his vision departing completely. For a moment or two images flashed in his mind of Dennis riding his cock, kissing him deeply as they came. Falling back lazily onto the bed, his hand and stomach sticky, Mac lay there for a few moments debating whether he'd actually heard what he thought he had. Surely not. It was just one of those strange moments, that was all. By the time he felt ready to sit back up again, the tape had finished and the TV continued to hum quietly with the screen a faded grey. One thing Mac certainly wasn't going to do was think about the fact that he'd just touched himself too to a video of his best friend fingering his own arsehole, what good would that do? Instead, he kicked off his jeans and boxers and waddled off into the bathroom to clean himself up.

At least his headache was gone now, he thought as he splashed his face with water. There was nothing better to get you ready for bed then a good orgasm, Mac smiled to himself as he slunk into his own room and fished around for a relatively clean pair of boxers to wear to bed. Since Dennis had left, his overall togetherness of life had doubtlessly decreased, but as long as he never descended to Charlie and Frank's level, Mac didn't see what the problem was. He threw off his shirt into a corner of the room and was able to clamber into bed before he heard a sound: the front door opening. Mac scoffed and rolled his eyes, it wasn't unlike the gang to barge in so late at night but he certainly wasn't in the mood for it right now. He debated pretending to be asleep, but it didn't take long for him to realise that it would've been pointless. Letting out a huff, he stomped over to his bedroom door and threw it open, sticking his head out in anticipation of finding some strange events unfolding in his living room, but instead the gang wasn't there at all.

"Hey, buddy!" A voice called out excitedly, it was Dennis.

Mac was flabbergasted, still grasping onto the doorknob as he stared at Dennis in alarm.

"You alright? Didn't give you a scare, did I?" Dennis asked with a grin, he'd thrown his keys onto the coffee table like everything was normal.

"Dennis?" Mac finally asked, taking a couple of steps into the living room to get a better look at him (was he dreaming again?) "What are you doing here?"

Dennis let out a hearty laugh "What am I doing in my apartment? Well, living, for a start." He gave Mac a confused look before turning to face his room "You been in here?"

Mac felt his heart sink, granted he probably should've cleaned up in there - at least turned the light off - but Dennis was the last person he'd expected to see tonight.

"Uh..." Mac hurried over to Dennis who was walking back into his room casually "No, no I-"

"Oh... I see." Dennis tutted sarcastically "Been going through my tapes, again? Can't really blame you, there's some pretty good stuff on these. So who'd you go for? Brittany, Ellie? Ooh, what about Stacey, that one's a classic!"

Mac began to panic, his brain could hardly think of a coherent thought let alone figure out some kind of excuse. This had to be a dream, a nightmare would be more accurate, as he watched Dennis eject the tape from the player and hold the VHS in his hand.

Silence.

Dennis stared at the tape, all the joy that had been on his face wiped away in an instant as Mac stood there feeling his face heating up in complete and utter shame. After what felt like a lifetime, Dennis finally looked back up to Mac and though he was trying to mask what he was truly feeling, Mac could see right through it.

"You watched this?" Dennis asked, his voice had gone cold.

Mac's eyebrows knitted together, he began biting his lip again nervously "Dennis, look-"

Dennis' eyes began to scan around the room, fixating on the bed which was ruffled and dirtied "You touched yourself, to this?"

If only he could wake up from whatever hell this was. Mac scrambled for something to say, anything, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. Dennis' face shifted again, the anger melting away into something softer yet still somewhat sinister.

"What did you think?" Dennis began to smirk, the exact same one Mac had seen on the tape.

[creativenostalgiastuff]

Last Words

Summary: Roman is just about to get married to the love of his life, Virgil, when he gets a phone call from Patton. Part of my Prinxiety Human AU. Angst to fluff prompt. Hurt/comfort

Pairing: Prinxiety (romantic), hinted logicality (romantic/platonic)

Warnings: mention of homophobia, weddings, anxiety attack, misplaced anger, manipulation mention

Word Count: 2303

Author’s note: Ha, finally got through writing something. This is so much fluff. 

Roman inspects himself in the mirror, turning side to side so that he can admire the craftsmanship of his suit: the red pants fit him correctly as to accentuate his assets, the matching jacket holding just enough flare in the color that the classic fight looked perfect. He gives himself a smile as he continues his inspection. Today he had to look perfect. 

Today, Roman is going to marry the love of his life: Virgil. 

It had been a long road to get to where they are now. The two of them had started out as friends. Okay, that wasn’t true. They started off hating each other. Roman had first noticed Virgil giving him what could only be described as death glares from the back of the bus when he got off at his stop. Eventually Logan, who was Roman’s lab partner turned friend, had introduced him to Patton, and Patton’s friend, Virgil. Virgil had seemed just as cautious with Roman as he was with him, which just frustrated Roman even more. Eventually, after getting locked in the choir room together, the two had blown up and finally cleared the air between them. A few months passed before Roman realized he had fallen for the Emo. At the desperate plea of Logan to “stop pining and just do something”, Roman took his courage and asked Virgil out. The rest, as they say, was history. Here they were, five years since that initial meeting, on their wedding day.

Roman’s smile drops as he finds a piece of hair out of place. He starts to mess with it; it needs to lay flat but not so flat that it loses its volume. Perfection was the goal. Besides, he didn’t need to leave his apartment for another hour in order to make it to downtown in time. 

Bzzzzz. Bzzzz.

Roman picks up his phone from the table next to the mirror and glances at the caller ID: Patton. He slides his finger across the screen and puts it up to his ear as his eyes fall once again on the mirror, “Hey Patton! Whattup?”

“Oh thank goodness, Roman,” Patton’s voice comes through the phone in a harsh whisper, a hint of relief as he says his name. 

“What’s wrong, Pat?” Roman asks as he turns away from the mirror. 

“Its Virge,” Patton answers, his words coming quick and desperate. 

“Is he okay?”

“His family called,” explained the friend. “I don’t know what they said, but we can’t get him to calm down.”

Roman clenches his fist. Virgil’s family was only bad news. They didn’t accept him being gay. So them contacting him on the day of his wedding could only be assumed to be a ploy to manipulate Virgil as they had done in the past. 

“I’m sorry for calling you, Ro,” Patton continues. “I know you two want today to be perfect. It’s just… we don’t know what to do. Logan has been trying to lead him through his exercises, but it just isn’t working. And you always seem to know how to help him. I know you two hadn’t wanted to see the other until it was time...”

Roman walks to the door, grabbing his keys off of the hanger on the wall, and heads out, “No, it's important. I’m glad you called. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in four. Can I talk to him?”

“Sure, let me go back in,” Patton says. Roman hears the door open on the phone and Logan murmuring quietly in the background as well as heavy breathing that could only be coming from Virgil. Roman listens as Patton talking in a soothing voice, “Virge, you wanna talk to Ro?”

The gasps slow for a second before picking up.

“Put me on speaker,” Roman demands as he takes off on a brisk jog; Logan’s apartment, where Virgil was staying for the day, was just three blocks away. A car would just slow him down. 

Virgil’s breathing gets easier to hear, signalling to Roman that Patton followed his request. “Hey there, Dark and Stormy Knight,” Roman says, trying to keep his breathing even. “It sounds like you’re having an anxiety attack, but it’ll be over soon. Just follow Logan’s breathing.”

“I know what to do,” Virgil spits out. “It just… I can’t… This isn’t what you wanted today...”

“If you put your hand on my chest it may be easier…” explains Logan.

“Really?” shouts Virgil, his breathing picking up. 

“I want you to be okay, whatever it takes. Can you put a hand on Lo’s chest?” Roman asks forcing calmness into his voice, ignoring Virgil’s misplaced anger. “For me?”

There is a pause before Roman hears a shuffle on the other side.

“Thank you,” Logan praises. 

Roman continues his jog, loosening his tie. He looks around and notices the local bakery as he crosses another street. “When was the last time we all went to the bakery?” Roman asks. Logan had once said that distractions could be useful and Roman knew that the last memory here was a good one.

“Two weeks ago, wasn’t it?” Logan answers, his approval and understanding coming through to Roman. 

“Oh right,” Patton pipes up. “They had just taken those chocolate chip cookies out of the oven!”

“They’re always better when they’re warm,” Roman agrees. “We’ll have to go back this week and see if we can get lucky.”

“Perhaps there is a schedule as to when they make them,” suggests Logan. 

“Maybe,” muses Patton.

Roman sighs as he turns the corner and can see the door to the apartment, “I’m just outside.”

“Door should be open,” Patton says before hanging up.

Roman jogs up to the door and goes into the familiar apartment.

He finds the three men in the kitchen. Patton is standing in the doorway, holding his phone. When Roman approaches, he steps to the side.

Roman’s heart sinks when he sees Virgil and Logan. Logan is kneeling, his face soft while his eyes seem calculating behind his glasses. He’s holding Vigil’s hand on his chest, softly so that Virgil can pull away without fighting. Logan’s shoulders are moving with his exaggerated breathing, his voice low as he counts the exercise.

Virgil has one hand on Logan and the other wrapped around his knees. His hoodie is draped over his shoulders with the hood up, but his arms aren’t in the sleeves, meaning either Logan or Patton had tried to use it to help distract and comfort their friend. His purple bangs stick out from under the hood, helping to hide his eyes. 

Roman takes a moment before he addresses them, “Hey there.”

“Roman,” Logan acknowledges. 

Roman kneels next to the two as his eyes scan, noticing Virgil’s tense grip on his legs and in ability to make eye contact. “How are we doing?” he asks, his eyes never leaving his almost husband. 

Virgil buries his face into his knees, pulling his hand back from Logan. 

Logan sits back and looks at Roman, “It’s a process.”

Roman nods, his mouth dry, “Right. You wanna talk about it, Virge?”

There is no response. Roman runs a hand through his hair before he looks at Logan and Patton, “Can… can you guys give us a minute?”

Logan nods, stands up, and walks over to Patton. Patton gives Roman an encouraging smile, taking Logan’s hand and leading him to the hallway, leaving Roman and Virgil alone on the kitchen floor. 

Roman sighs and scoots towards the cabinets. He sits with his back to them, his knees propped up in front of him. He leans his head back against the cool wood and looks at the kitchen light. 

“Okay, Doom and Gloom,” Roman starts, closing his eyes. “You’re not ready to talk about it, I get it. But whatever happened, I promise it is something we can work through. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be right here.”

He can sense eyes on him, so he opens his own meeting Virgil’s. Roman can’t help but smile, “There are those eyes.”

Virgil shifts across the floor, getting closer to Roman, while still maintaining his ball like state. Roman flattens his legs out, understanding that it was almost inevitable now that they were alone that Virgil would end up in his lap. And sure enough, Virgil lays down with his head in Roman’s lap still curled in the fetal position. 

Roman moves to take the hoodie off of Virgil’s head, laying it like a blanket instead over him. He then starts carding his fingers through Vigre’s hair, slowly and careful to apply just the right amount of pressure. Roman can’t help but smile when he hears Virgil sigh and watches as the tension starts to leave him. “That’s right, Dark Knight, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure of that?” Virgil asks, his voice quiet. 

“Of course,” Roman answers, his brow creased. “Pretty sure that when I asked you to marry me, it meant I wasn’t going anywhere.” 

“You could always change your mind.”

“Do you honestly think so little of me?” asks Roman. “After all we’ve been though, you think I would just change my mind? We both know many people have tried to get either one of us to change our minds. Yet we’re still here, together, after all of these years. We kept choosing each other, again and again. And we still will. Because we are strong.”

“But D said…”

“Forget your family,” Roman snaps before he catches himself. He takes a deep breath, “I mean, don’t worry about what D said. Do you want to marry me?”

“Yeah.”

“And I still want to marry you. Forget the others. We’re doing this for us, right?”

“Right.”

“We’re gonna finish getting ready,” Roman explains with a smile. “We’re gonna go downtown with Logan and Patton, as our witnesses, to the court. We’re gonna stand in front of a justice of the peace. I’m gonna gush about how amazing you are and promise you the stars. You’ll put up with it because you love me and honestly find it sweet even if you don’t want to admit it.”

That earns a smile from Virgil as Roman continues, “Then you’ll get your turn to say whatever you want. There’ll be some legal signing of things that I am sure Logan will find the most romantic of us all because god he’s such a nerd he would get excited over paperwork.”

“Be nice,” Virgil warns as he sits up, putting his head on Roman’s shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Roman admits before continuing, “And they’ll pronounce us husband and husband. And we’ll then go party with our family and friends, our real family and friends. Not your parents and brother, but our found family. And we’re gonna eat some good food and dance to whatever songs you want and just have fun celebrating us. Does that sound like fun?”

Virgil sighs and looks at Roman with eyes that just melt Roman’s heart, “Yeah. It does.”

“Great!” says Roman as he stands up and offers a hand to Virgil, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do you trust me?

Virgil rolls his eyes as he accepts the hand and gets pulled to his feet, “Seriously, do you know any other Disney pick-up lines?

“Is that a challenge?”

“Of course not,” Virgil laughs as brushes a piece of hair out of Roman’s face, causing Roman to blush. 

Roman can’t help himself. He takes his fiance’s hand and spins him once before pulling him close, placing his other hand on Virgil’s waist. Virgil shakes his head with a smile as he allows Roman to dance with him for a moment. 

Roman starts humming as he dances Virgil around the room, lost in his own little world. He was really going to marry this guy in an hour. Granted, the two of them had been together for so long, it just sort of seemed natural to make it official at this point. And now that they were old enough and independent from their disapproving and homophobic families, there was no reason to wait any longer. 

“What are you thinking?” Virgil asks after a moment.

Roman snaps back to reality, “Nothing.

Virgil chuckles, “Really? You’re humming Stronger Than You?”

“Hm? Oh sorry,” Roman blushes. “I guess I was just thinking that  I don’t care what your family said. I love you. Now and Forever. And they’re just jealous of what we have.” 

“I love you too,” says Virgil. “And you’re right.”

Roman spins Virgil and dips him with a dramatic flare, “I’m sorry can I get a recording of that?”

“I hate to interrupt,” Logan calls from the hallway. “But since it sounds as if things are okay, I thought I should notify you that we need to leave in five if we wish to remain on time.”

“Thank you five,” Roman answers before he turns his attention back to his partner and sets him upright again.

Virgil surprises Roman by pulling him in for a kiss, causing Roman’s heart to flutter. Sure, when dating, over time the butterfly feeling became less frequent. It was completely normal. But every once in a while, Virgil would find a way to get the response from Roman, making him fall head over heels in love again. And again. And again.

Virgil pulls away again sooner than Roman wants, tying his tie for him. Roman smiles and straightens Virgil’s shirt. After another moment of fussing over one another, Roman takes Virgil’s hand, “Okay, let’s go get married then. Any last words?”

Virgil smiles as he shakes his head, “You say that like marriage is a death sentence.”

“With you, my darling, it is anything but,” Roman says as he kisses the top of Virgil’s hand, causing the Emo to laugh lightly. “Let’s go start writing our happily ever after.”